And with that he turned and walked away from me.
31
I WOKE UP the following evening shivering from cold and hunger. The previous night I’d walked and walked. A wild thought about greeting the sunrise had even entered my head.
But then I’d thought of Mum and Teegan and Andrew . . . and I couldn’t do it. I’d never been a coward, and I wasn’t about to change now, but guilt gnawed away at me like a starving dog with a bone.
I’d been too angry to let Pete explain about our broken date; I should never have accepted the drinks Julius gave us; I’d hurt Mum and upset Teegan. My life was a mess and, like a contagious disease, it seemed to be infecting all those around me.
At first all I could think about was how Andrew had lied to me and cheated Pete. Maybe I should’ve been flattered by what he had done, but I wasn’t. However, when I sat in the still of the night and honestly analysed my feelings, in the end I wasn’t sorry I’d gone out with Andrew. And after just one night away from him, I knew I never would be.
I’d needed the time alone, though. The trouble was, I couldn’t think straight when Andrew was near. Being with him confused me. Now at least, I’d finally worked things out. I knew how I truly felt about me and Andrew. I loved him, and he loved me. And maybe, when you got right down to it, that was all that really mattered. The rest would take care of itself if we could just get that right.
My trouble was that I was always looking backwards, not forwards. But no more of that. It was time to accept things as they were, not as I wanted them to be. Andrew wasn’t perfect. Neither was I.
We were blood drinkers, destined to be with each other. We had no choice but to drink to survive. And we had to do our living by night. I’d probably never see the sun again, or a blue sky or a white cloud, and that made something deep inside me ache . . .
But it was time to accept that fact and move on, with Andrew. We’d find a place of our own. Somewhere we could be together, a place to call home. And I could still study, by correspondence classes or maybe the Open University.
There are always ways, I told myself, always alternatives. It would work out, if we really wanted it to, if we fought hard enough to make sure it did.
That’s what Dad always used to say and I realized now that he too had found the words and the actual deed difficult to reconcile. That’s why I’d never really forgiven him. He’d said one thing, then done another, and it’d taken me until last night to finally realize that Dad and I were a lot alike. Maybe too much alike, but I was determined to get this right. And it hadn’t taken me as long as it had taken Dad to sort myself out – he’d have been proud of me.
However, my first priority was to get out of the basement of this derelict office block where I’d spent the day. Sleeping alone hadn’t been much fun. I’d go to Mum’s and have a shower. Then I’d find Andrew and we’d both feed. Suddenly I knew what I was doing and where I was going. And it was a wonderful feeling.
What would Andrew say when I told him how I felt? Would he feel the same? Would he agree with me? Or would he be so sick of my moods that he wouldn’t care? No, I couldn’t believe that. I remembered the way he’d looked when I’d told him I wanted to be alone. He loved me, and once I told him what I’d finally decided we’d be OK. Better than OK. Andrew and I would make it through this together.
What was the saying? Today was the first day of the rest of our lives.
32
‘HELLO, CAROLINE. HIYA, Ben. Has either of you seen Andrew?’ Ben and Caroline were alone in our gang’s usual booth and they didn’t welcome the interruption. Tough!
‘Hi, Jayna. Er . . . he was in here briefly about half an hour ago,’ Ben replied.
‘Do you know where he went?’
‘No idea,’ Caroline said. ‘He and Pete had a brief conversation and then they left together.’
Icy fingers began to tap at my spine. ‘They left together?’
Caroline and Ben nodded. I didn’t know what to make of that. Maybe Pete and Andrew had made up? I hoped so. They’d been such good friends before. So why did I feel so uneasy? After all, why shouldn’t they leave together? What had happened all those months ago was now just water under the bridge. Wasn’t it . . .?
‘Oh, all right. Thanks, anyway. I’ll leave you two to it, then.’
Ben and Caroline didn’t argue for me to stay. I left the Burger Bar trying to summon up the courage to visit the Harrison household.
Eat first. Face Mrs Harrison on a full stomach, at least! I thought.
I started the walk to Andrew’s house. A gentle breeze whispered across my face. It carried the faintest scent of blood in it – fresh, sweet blood. My mouth instantly filled with saliva and my stomach rumbled hungrily. Licking my lips, I stood perfectly still and sniffed. Now that I was concentrating on the smell, it was stronger.
The aroma came from the darkened alleyway beside the Burger Bar. Gingerly I began to walk along it, picking my way through the mounds of burger cartons and split black bin-liners. There was no light in the alley, except that which filtered through the frosted-glass windows at the side of the restaurant, but that was no problem to me nowadays. The smell was getting stronger all the time. Pungent. I licked my lips. My teeth were beginning to extend. Even though I’d already fed on a cat I’d found in the derelict office block, the smell still made me hungry.
Then I saw him ahead. Pete. He was sprawled on the ground on top of a pile of rotting, stinking rubbish, his head tilted to his right. The tiniest stream of blood had collected to the side of his slightly open lips, but his neck was a wide open gash where his throat had been ripped out. Very little blood had pooled beneath him, though. My hands flew to my mouth. Pete stared with unseeing eyes at the wall in front of him, and I strained to hear a heartbeat but there was none – no sound at all from him. Just the rumble of the traffic on the main road and the clatter of pans and pots from the Burger Bar kitchen. My breath caught in my throat. I didn’t need to get any closer.
Pete was dead.
I wanted to scream, to vomit. I couldn’t get the smell of blood out of my nostrils. It hung in the air, surrounding me, and I could almost taste it.
Pete . . .
Footsteps approached and I looked round. The alley was a dead end. I mustn’t be found here – there would be questions. Questions that would last through the night and well into daylight . . .
Opposite the restaurant was a wall, four metres high. Without hesitation I bent my knees and leaped onto the top of it. Had I stopped to think about it I never could’ve done it. The footsteps were nearer. Crouching low, I turned to see who it was. A man and a woman who worked at the restaurant, each carrying a large black bin-liner.
‘If that woman says one more thing to me . . .’
‘You’ve got more patience than I have,’ the woman’s companion said sympathetically.
‘Patience? It’s not patience. If I didn’t need this job . . . Dave . . .? Dave, what’s that?’
‘What? I don’t see anything.’
‘Over there. By the far wall.’
Gingerly they walked forward, almost on tiptoe.
‘Karen, someone’s there,’ Dave whispered.
‘Oh, I see now. Leave him. He’s probably drunk or something,’ Karen replied with distaste. She and Dave carried on moving slowly forwards.
‘I . . . I don’t think so. He doesn’t look too good . . .’
‘Is he OK?’ Karen whispered. Then they reached Pete.
‘Oh, my God!’ And Karen screamed.
I didn’t wait to hear any more. I straightened up and ran along the narrow wall. Pete . . . What had happened? His neck . . . it must’ve been Andrew. Why? He had no need to do that. But yesterday, when I’d learned the truth about my non-existent first date with Pete, I’d seen the look in Andrew’s eyes as he regarded his friend. And now Pete was dead.
Oh God! Pete was dead.
Why had Andrew done it? Because he was stronger, because he could. I should have been ther
e to stop him, but I’d been away holding a pity party for one, thinking only about myself. To think I used to love it when Andrew was jealous. I’d thought it was romantic. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
And now Pete was dead.
And Andrew was a killer.
My boyfriend had drunk Pete’s blood. The lack of blood beneath Pete’s body had screamed that out. I had to find him – I couldn’t rest until I did. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. Sand burned my eyes and filled my throat and I felt sick. Sick because I hadn’t been sick. Sick because until I’d seen it was Pete lying there, I’d been salivating at the prospect of fresh blood. What had I turned into? What had we both turned into?
Something vile and rotten and repulsive. Something no longer human. Not the super-humans Andrew said, but something less than that. Much less than that.
And I had to do something about it.
33
‘OH, IT’S YOU.’ Mrs Harrison’s face fell. ‘What do you want?’
‘Is Andrew in?’
I had no time to be pleasant to this unpleasant woman. I’d run all the way from the Burger Bar and I’d already been round the back of the house and up to the attic but Andrew hadn’t been there. I needed to find him. I kept thinking about the way Pete had looked when I discovered his body. He hadn’t deserved that – no one deserved that. I would find Andrew if it took me all night.
‘You know more about his whereabouts than I do,’ Mrs Harrison said bitterly.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘You heard me. Ever since he took up with you I’ve hardly seen him. And now he’s moved right out. I hope you’re satisfied.’
‘Is he here now?’ I repeated impatiently.
‘Well, he could have come home and gone straight up to his room while I was in the sitting room. He barely talks to me these days. That’s something else I can thank you for.’
‘Do you mind if I check?’ I stepped past her before she could stop me. I didn’t give a toss whether she minded or not.
‘Well, really!’
‘Andrew!’ I shouted out from the hall.
Mrs Harrison closed the door before turning to face me. ‘Do you have to shout like a common fish-wife?’
‘How would you like me to shout, then?’
‘Must you shout at all?’
‘Andrew! Are you up there?’ I yelled even louder. Mrs Harrison closed her eyes as if in pain. ‘Andrew!’ I turned back to Mrs Harrison just in time to see the look of disgust on her face. ‘Don’t look at me like that, you stuck-up snob. And I’ve never seen anyone who had less to be snobbish about!’
‘I’ll never know what my son sees in you.’ Mrs Harrison shook her head. ‘Novelty value, no doubt. I can only pray that the novelty will wear off soon.’
I stretched out my fingers. I didn’t need this. Not now. Not tonight. ‘Maybe he wanted someone who was as different from his mother as he could get,’ I suggested.
Andrew, you didn’t have to do that to Pete . . .
‘Now that you know Andrew isn’t here, please leave.’ Mrs Harrison’s eyes narrowed.
‘Listen, Mrs Harrison, I know you don’t like me and that’s fine ’cause I don’t like you either,’ I said quietly, my fingers stretched to the point of breaking.
‘At least that’s something we both agree on,’ Mrs Harrison muttered under her breath.
Every word rang in my ears like a bell. I glared at her. ‘It doesn’t matter what I say or do, does it? And it never will,’ I said. ‘I don’t dress in designer labels, I don’t speak with the same cut-glass voice as you, and most of all, you can’t get past the fact that I’m black. You’re not the slightest bit interested in who I am or what I think and feel. Well, here’s a hot newsflash, I’m proud of what I am. I wouldn’t change even if I could. So you can go straight to hell, you and your Mercedes-Benz!’
‘How dare you! Contrary to what you so obviously think, it’s not your colour that concerns me, it’s your class – or complete lack of it.’ Mrs Harrison’s face turned puce.
She wasn’t the only one drowning in fury at that moment.
‘I am so tired of you and your snotty attitude. You’re no better than anyone else, Mrs Harrison, you just think you are. It’s thanks to you that both your sons think they can do what they like and get away with it. They both think their opinions are more valid than anyone else’s, that they can do whatever they like with impunity. Your whole family makes me sick.’
With a start, I realized what I’d said – about both her sons. I hadn’t meant to say that, the words had just slipped out of my mouth. Was that what I really believed? And then I knew it wasn’t a question of what I wanted to believe any more. The truth was the truth. Even Andrew – my Andrew – was as arrogant as his mother in his own way.
‘Get out of my house.’ Mrs Harrison moved towards me.
‘With pleasure. I regret ever setting foot in this mausoleum.’
‘Where you are concerned, that makes two of us.’
Something . . . say something to hurt her, the way she’s hurt you, I told myself. Say something . . .
‘Yeah, but I’m not the only one who can’t stand this house, am I? Andrew couldn’t wait to leave here and live with me, Morgan spends as much time away from this place as possible, and Mr Harrison can’t be working late every night. Everyone but you knows he’s been having an affair with his PA for at least the last three years—’
Before either of us could think about it, Mrs Harrison raised her hand and slapped my face. I could see each movement frame by frame as it came, but I was rooted to the spot. As if I couldn’t believe, wouldn’t believe, that she would really do it.
But she did.
I scowled at her. My temper flew out the window.
‘Why, you—’ I raised my hand and slapped her back. The force of my blow lifted her off her feet and sent her sailing through the air. I watched horror-stricken as Andrew’s mother hit the banisters side-on at least two metres off the ground. Her head hit the balustrade with a sickening thud and she crumpled up and fell to the ground like a bag of bricks.
And there it was again, the smell of blood.
34
I RAN OVER to her and crouched down. Her eyes were closed but she was still breathing. Just. I picked up a hand by the wrist to feel for a pulse, then the sound of the front door opening had my head whipping round. Morgan and Andrew stood in the doorway. We all froze.
‘What the hell—’ Morgan was the first to break the spell.
I looked down at Mrs Harrison. I was still holding her hand. I dropped it immediately and stood up. ‘Andrew, it’s not—’
‘You bitch!’ Morgan ran over to his mother, pushing me aside.
‘Andrew.’ I stepped forward. ‘I . . . it’s not what you think.’
One look at Andrew’s face and everything I wanted to say died in my mouth. He stared at me with disbelief. And as I watched, disbelief turned to anger and anger turned into something far, far worse.
‘Andrew, it was an accident,’ I whispered. ‘She . . . I . . .’
‘Andrew, phone for an ambulance,’ Morgan said urgently. ‘Mum’s still alive but her pulse is weak. I don’t want to let her go.’
Andrew didn’t move. He didn’t take his eyes off me.
‘For heaven’s sake, Andrew,’ Morgan said with fury. ‘We’ll deal with her later. Right now, we have to get Mum to hospital. Fast!’
When Andrew still didn’t move, Morgan swore and reached into his jacket for his own mobile. I took a step towards Mrs Harrison; I only wanted to help, and I knew some first aid. Morgan tensed and Andrew moved like lightning to grab my arm.
‘Don’t you go near her. Don’t you touch her,’ he hissed at me.
‘I was only trying—’
‘I know what you were trying to do,’ Andrew said.
‘The same thing that you did to Pete?’
What I’d meant as a question came out as a rationale, an excuse. I hadn’t meant it like that at all. But from A
ndrew’s face I could see he’d misunderstood me.
‘So you thought you’d get even?’ Andrew said softly. ‘Why wasn’t I listening for you? I should have known . . . I should have been listening.’ The harshness of his voice made me flinch. Behind me I could hear Morgan talking to the emergency services.
‘It wasn’t like that. It . . . it was an accident—’
‘Yeah, of course it was,’ Morgan interrupted, his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone.
I turned to him. ‘Yes it was. I swear—’
‘Don’t listen to her, Andrew,’ Morgan said fiercely. His attention returned to the phone in his hand.
I looked down at Mrs Harrison but all I could see was Pete. I tried to think of Pete but all I could see was Mrs Harrison. I was going crazy. The whole world was turning upside down and tipping me with it. I turned back to Andrew.
‘Pete . . . Andrew, why did you do it? Pete was harmless. How could you . . .?’
‘He deserved it.’ Andrew’s voice was ice-cold, ice-hard. ‘He’s the reason you left me. He split us up. Only now I see that you weren’t worth it.’
I flinched as though Andrew had struck me. ‘So what you did doesn’t matter? The only thing that counts is what you think I did to your mother?’
‘I was angry,’ Andrew shouted. ‘Pete and I were quarrelling and I forgot what I was and punched him. You were out for revenge. That’s the difference.’
No difference, I thought. No difference at all.
‘Punching him may have been in anger, but what about feeding on him?’ I said, not attempting to mask my bitter accusation in any way. ‘Tell me that was an accident as well.’
‘He was dying, as good as dead. And he deserved it,’ said Andrew with slow deliberation.
Looking at Andrew when he said that was like looking into the eyes of a lethal stranger.
‘Andrew, listen to me . . .’
‘No, I won’t listen. Not any more.’
I’d never seen Andrew like this before. I’d never seen that look on his face.
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