by Sant, Sharon
I’m beginning to realise that there’s a whole other Bethany I don’t know at all.
‘What did you do after I left you at lunch?’ she asks.
‘I wandered around a bit.’
‘It must be boring.’
‘It is. Do you think there are rules to this?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, like about where I can and can’t go?’
‘Can’t you go anywhere?’
‘Well, there is only one place in the whole village anyone’s supposed to have seen the plague kids.’
She nods.
‘Why don’t they go anywhere else?’
‘That’s just a story,’ she says slowly, ‘there are no ghosts there really.’
‘How can you say that when I’m sitting right here with you?’
‘I just feel like you’re different.’
‘But what would happen if I decided to leave the village? Do I have to stay here to exist? Would I disappear like smoke on the wind if I didn’t?’
‘I don’t know,’ she replies thoughtfully.
‘I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this. Maybe one day I’ll be so fed up that I’ll try to leave to see if that happens. Maybe I won’t care if it does.’
‘I’d care,’ she says.
‘You wouldn’t be here, you’d be at university, or living in London, or Leeds, or Edinburgh doing some amazing job and living some amazing life, and you’d have forgotten all about me. Even if you ever remembered I’d be so faded that I’d hardly be there at all anyway.’
‘Don’t say that.’
‘Why not? I’m fading, Bethany, I know it. I think that’s what happened to my dad, that’s why I can’t see him. One day I’ll be so see-through that you’ll forget I was ever here, just like everyone else has.’
She’s quiet for a moment, staring into the darkness, ‘I think we should go and see Raven,’ she says finally.
I shake my head.
‘Why not?’
‘She’s a fake. I went to her and she couldn’t see or hear me, just like everyone else.’
Bethany looks at me with a frown. ‘Maybe she has to do something first, like a séance or something?’
‘Even if she does, she’ll want paying.’
‘How much?’
I shrug. ‘Probably loads.’
‘That could be a problem.’
I look at her hopefully. Her frown deepens.
‘Sorry,’ I say, ‘that was a stupid thing to ask after how mean I’ve been to you. Why would you give me your money?’
‘It’s not that,’ she corrects quickly. ‘I just don’t get much spare cash. I can’t think of anyone else who might be able to help you, though.’ She stares at the black expanse of the fields. ‘If we just went to Raven and explained everything, maybe she’d feel sorry for you and help.’
‘You think someone who cons upset people by pretending to see their dead family members is going to help for nothing?’
‘We haven’t even tried,’ she says. ‘You want to know what’s going on, don’t you?’
‘Course I do. I just don’t think it will work.’
‘I googled earlier,’ she says. ‘There was loads of stuff on there but you can’t ever know what to believe on the internet, can you?’
‘You have a computer?’
She laughs. ‘Don’t sound so shocked. We’re not that poor.’
‘Is it a good one?’
Her eyes open wide. ‘Some things never change, even when you’re dead. Does it matter what computer I have?’
I can’t help but grin. ‘I suppose not.’
‘But it is pretty crap,’ she laughs.
‘What sort of stuff did you find out?’
‘Mostly loads about unfinished business, people not ready to go, some stuff about bearing grudges –’
‘I don’t have any grudges.’
She looks at me with a knowing smile. ‘You don’t have any grudges? I can name a few. And you do have some unfinished business.’
I open my mouth to argue but then I realise that she’s right. ‘Ingrid… But that’s never going to happen now.’
‘You saying that’s never going to happen doesn’t mean you can let it go,’ she says. ‘But the stuff on the internet also says that sometimes the dead person’s spirit attaches itself to a significant living one and it’s only them that can hear and see the spirit. If that’s true, how come Ingrid isn’t having this conversation with you instead of me?’
‘Maybe because Ingrid would freak as soon as she saw me and you don’t?’
‘It still doesn’t make any sense, though. I mean, we practically never even looked at each other before now.’
As bad as it makes me feel she has a point. ‘That can’t be right, then, can it?’
‘Which is why we need to talk to someone who knows this stuff. I’ll go and see her. It’s got to be worth a try.’
I stare at her. She looks different tonight, but I’m not sure why.
‘You seem like you’re not even sure you want to go on to where you’re supposed to be,’ she says.
‘I can’t hang around like this forever, it’s driving me crazy. But I don’t know what’s waiting for me either.’
She nods. ‘It’s pretty scary, I suppose.’
‘Terrifying.’ Saying it even takes me by surprise.
‘It’s ok to be afraid,’ she says.
I don’t know what to say, so I look out across the fields. You can’t see what’s out there beyond our little circle of light. My hand creeps along the bench and rests next to Bethany’s. She looks across at me and smiles as she puts her hand on the bench through mine.
‘We don’t have to do anything,’ she says quietly.
‘We don’t,’ I agree, ‘but I’m even more scared of being alone forever.’
‘I’m sure there must be other people like me, who can see you,’ she says. I know she’s just trying to be encouraging and I wish I could feel better for it.
Suddenly, she sits up really straight and cocks her head to one side. ‘Did you hear something?’
I listen for a second. There’s absolute silence, not even the distant whoosh of a car on the road, not the tiniest breeze stirring the grass. But then I hear a sound, like the rustle of fabric. Bethany leaps off the bench and squeezes herself in a corner beneath a canteen window. She waves her hand frantically at me to join her.
‘No one can see me,’ I say. ‘Wait here, I’ll go and look.’
She nods silently, her wide eyes reflecting the security light.
I round the corner of the building and the main yard opens out in front of me. There’s something strangely exhilarating about not having to be scared any more and I stride across the grounds. The yard is in gloom but I see two silhouettes flit past the fence towards the main building. They don’t look like kids, at least, not little ones. I watch for a few moments but the yard is still and silent again. Whoever they were, they’ve gone now.
I run back to Bethany. She’s still in the corner, her breathing shallow, eyes darting everywhere.
‘You need to go,’ I whisper. ‘And you need to be really quiet.’ I don’t know why I suddenly feel like she needs to go. And I don’t know why I’m whispering but I can’t help it.
She doesn’t question my instructions but scrambles up and makes her way silently along the wall, keeping as close as she can. I follow her. We reach the edge of the canteen wall, and the only way to get to the fence now is to break cover. In silent agreement, we start to run towards the gap in the wire. From the corner of my eye I see a shadow and before I have a chance to warn her, another figure steps forwards and blocks her way. A squeal dies in her throat as she stops dead and stares up at the dark shape.
‘Who’re you talking to?’ the boy asks. I recognise the voice, but I can’t place it.
Bethany shakes her head but doesn’t speak. ‘Who’s with you?’ he says. His voice is steady but it sounds like he’s losing his te
mper beneath the steel in it.
‘Tell him you were talking to yourself,’ I say.
She throws me a sideways glance. I can’t see her expression, it’s too dark, but I’m guessing she’s really scared.
‘Nobody,’ she says in a small voice. ‘I was just messing around, talking to myself.’
She says it and I suddenly realise that it’s a bad idea.
The guy steps towards her. ‘You sure?’
She nods.
‘So you’re on your own?’
This time she just stares up at him. I think she’s realised the mistake too. He grabs her arm. She starts to pull against his grip, trying to wrench free, but he takes hold of her with both hands and starts to drag her towards the cover of the alleyway behind the science block.
‘Bethany!’ I shout.
She squeals but it’s a high pitched half of nothing and nobody would be able to hear it, even if they were in the next room. ‘No… please…. let me go,’ she whimpers.
I run after them; my brain’s working like crazy to try and think of something to help, something I can actually do. Suddenly, a name comes to me.
‘It’s Gary,’ I shout to Bethany. ‘Gary James. Call him Gary. If he thinks you know him he might think twice about doing anything to you.’ I don’t know if she’s heard me or not, she’s crying so much.
‘Gary, please, don’t hurt me,’ she manages to squeak out. ‘I won’t tell anyone you were here if you let me go.’
He slows his stride, just for a second, as though he’s surprised to hear his name.
‘How do you know who I am?’
‘Tell him everyone knows him,’ I say.
‘Everyone knows you around here,’ she says. ‘But I won’t tell anyone about you.’
‘You won’t tell anyone anyway,’ he says. ‘Because little sluts that tell get what’s coming to them. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun before you go home, does it?’
He drags her down the alleyway and shoves her against the wall. She just manages to keep her balance but I can see that her legs are shaking so much she’s barely staying upright. He gets close and pushes his whole self up against her. I stand at the opening not knowing what to do. I want to scream with frustration for being so helpless. She’s in bits, just sobbing. It’s dark down there and I can’t see what’s going on properly but my mind is playing all sorts of sick images to me.
‘For God’s sake, Beth, just knee him in the nuts or something!’ I shout, but she carries on crying.
I have to get in closer. I’d take a deep breath if I had any, but I steel myself and make my way to them. He’s slobbering all over her face as she turns it away from him. I get right close to Bethany’s ear.
‘Listen to me,’ I say in the calmest voice I can manage. ‘Stop crying and listen to me.’
Her sobs start to break up into sort of stuttering gasps. His hands are making their way down her body and I have to stay calm myself because I feel like I could gag.
‘Get your finger,’ I tell her, ‘find the place at the bottom of his windpipe… there’s sort of a hollow, at the bottom of his neck before you get to his collarbone, just under his Adam’s apple – put your finger in there and press as hard as you can and don’t stop no matter what he does.’
She lifts her hand and starts to trail her finger down his neck. When she gets to the place I tell her. ‘That’s it. Now push!’
She shoves her finger in hard and the shock makes him back off, grabbing for his throat. He goes to smack her face but she has enough room now to bring her knee up between his legs. It’s only a puny kick but it’s enough to make him fall away with a howl and she starts to run like a newborn gazelle up the alleyway. We break out into the open together and I look round to see that Gary’s mates have now joined him.
‘That little bitch kneed me in the nads,’ Gary shouts and they all start tearing after us.
‘Beth, run!’ I scream. She glances behind her and then turns her face back to me for a second. In the white security light I can see she’s terrified and her legs are shaking as she runs. But she finds more speed and bolts for the gap in the fence, ripping through it without a thought for the wire that razors her cheek bringing a jagged line of blood. Then we’re out on the field, making distance between us and the boys chasing after, the darkness swallowing us a little more with every desperate stride.
‘I know somewhere we can hide,’ I call and I veer to the left. Bethany looks across at me and follows.
There’s an old drainage tunnel buried on the edge of the fields and hidden by shrubs and weeds. Matt and me have hidden from Mr Allen there enough times for me to know its location well. As we’re almost on it Bethany realises my intention. She stops and stares at me, her chest rising and falling like she could never get enough air again.
‘Get in,’ I tell her.
For a minute I think she’s going to say no but then she climbs inside the metal tubing and scrunches herself up as small as she can. I sit on the ground outside and listen to her harsh breathing, which seems to echo across the frozen fields, but Gary and his two mates don’t hear and they run right past.
After a few minutes Bethany whispers, ‘Do you think they’ve gone?’
I break through the cover of the shrubs. The moon has come out from a bank of cloud and the frosted grass glints in its silver glow. The fields look empty. I walk back to Bethany.
‘I think you can come out.’
She clambers from the tube. Her jeans are filthy and her face is tear-stained. I can see she’s still trembling. She looks up at me and I know the question without her asking.
‘They must have been trying to break into the school,’ I say.
‘What for?’ she whispers.
I shrug. ‘For a laugh.’
She drops to the grassy bank below the pipe and sits holding her head in her hands. The blood on her cheek is congealing already so I suppose the cut wasn’t too deep. She puts a hand up to it and runs her finger gingerly along the length of the wound. Then she lifts her head and glances down at her dirty jeans.
‘Dad’ll go nuts when he sees me like this.’
‘What are you going to tell him?’ I sit down next to her, keeping a close eye on the landscape, though the kids that I think were chasing us will probably look for their kicks elsewhere now.
‘I’ll have to tell him I fell over or something.’ She throws a small smile at me. I’m not sure if she’s feeling better now or she’s just trying to make me believe that she is. ‘Thanks,’ she says.
‘For what?’
‘For being there.’
I look away. Neither of us says anything about the fact that she wouldn’t have been in trouble at all if it wasn’t for me.
‘Do you know them?’ she asks.
I nod. ‘I don’t know them, exactly, but I know who they are. Gary James left school two years ago. Don’t you remember him?’ She shakes her head. ‘He used to hang around with Tom Delaney and Callum Peters,’ I remind her.
‘I think I might remember them vaguely,’ she says. ‘They don’t live in our village do they?’
I shake my head. ‘No. It was definitely Gary, though, so it’s probably those three that chased us. They wouldn’t have done anything serious, they always liked to pretend they were harder than they actually were.’ That’s not true, but I tell her that anyway and hope that it makes her feel safer.
‘It didn’t feel that way when he got me against the wall,’ Bethany says staring out over the fields. She shivers and pulls her coat tighter around her. ‘I daren’t go home now, in case they’re waiting for me.’
‘I don’t think they will be.’
‘Are you sure?’ she asks doubtfully.
‘I’ll go down and check they’ve gone if you want to wait here.’
She shakes her head fiercely. ‘No, stay with me.’
I wonder what good staying with her would do and she probably does too but I don’t argue. ‘If we sit for half an hour, they’ll p
robably be long gone, then you can go home.’
She nods and her hand goes up to the cut on her cheek again.
‘Does it hurt?’ I ask.
‘A bit.’ She pauses. Then she asks in a timid voice, ‘What did it feel like… when you died? Did that hurt?’
I think about this before I answer. ‘I suppose it did when the car hit me. After that I can’t remember. It must have done.’
‘Kids at school said you were really smashed up.’
‘How did they know?’
She shrugs. ‘I suppose someone told them. Word gets round pretty fast in this village.’
‘I suppose so,’ I say. ‘It looked bad.’
‘You saw?’
‘Yeah. I stayed with my body for a while. I didn’t really know what was happening at the time so I felt like I didn’t dare leave in case I wasn’t dead and I could climb back in, y’know, like they do on films when they realise it isn’t their time to go.’
She looks thoughtful. ‘Maybe that’s what did happen. Perhaps you’re still here because your body wasn’t actually ready to die but you didn’t get back in? And now it’s too late because your body is buried and you’re trapped.’
I shake my head. ‘If you’d seen the mess I was in, you’d have known there was no way I was going to survive that. I was definitely dead.’
‘What happened to the car?’ she says.
‘It drove off straightaway.’
‘Did you get a look at it?’
‘Not really. It was black, pimped job, that’s about all I can tell you.’
‘So it was a hit-and-run?’
‘I suppose it was.’
‘Perhaps you’re here to solve the mystery of who hit you then?’
I consider this. ‘I don’t think so. It’s not like it changes anything for me whether I know who did it or not. Besides, what would I do about it if I found out?’
‘We could go to the police,’ she says.
‘And tell them to arrest someone on the strength of what a dead boy is saying to you?’
She pushes her hair back from her forehead. ‘Maybe not.’
As she says this I can see what looks like a bruise on her temple. She catches me looking and drags her fringe back down over it. It’s dark where we are and I can’t see all that well, but it looks too black to be from tonight. The way she covers it up, though, it doesn’t seem like she wants me to mention it.