Savannah screamed and threw her hands in the air like Rose had just let loose a cage of rats.
“You’d better go get a mop then, hadn’t you?” Rose said. She turned and marched from the room, tears burning her eyes.
Chapter Twenty-eight
As Maali approached the City Farm she glanced down at the index card in her hand. Lakshmi might not have been able to give her any tips on how to talk to Ash, but wikiHow had been brilliant – it had pages of advice, which she’d condensed like a set of revision notes:
• Use his name frequently
• Comment on the weather / surroundings
• Ask him for help – men love to help
• Smile and thank him
• Compliment him
• Ask interesting open-ended questions eg., if your house was on fire what would you save?
• Listen more than talk
• Ask for a pop culture recommendation
• End on a high note – like a joke (maybe dinosaur one?)
Maali stuffed the card back in her pocket. She knew it off by heart – she’d been studying it in every lesson that morning. Then she felt a flicker of doubt. What if Ash was on his lunch break too? What if they missed each other like star-crossed lovers, doomed by fate and badly timed lunch breaks never to meet? Aaargh!
Maali took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. She had to get a grip. Rose wouldn’t act like this. When Rose wanted to work in a cake shop she just marched into one and asked for a job. So Maali was going to march into the farm and ask Ash for some tips on pigs. She’d decided to pretend she was researching pigs because a) she’d last seen Ash feeding some pigs, so he must know something about them, and b) there was no way she could tell him the real reason she was there.
Maali stared up at the rusty sign and gulped. It’s fine. There’s nothing to fear. Ignoring the churning in her stomach, she made her way over to the pig enclosure. He probably wouldn’t even be there. He probably—
“Hello again.” She felt a tap on the shoulder and spun round. Ash was standing behind her, grinning. In the pale winter sunlight his brown eyes were flecked with gold. Oh, Lakshmi, please don’t let me faint. She quickly looked away.
“Hello – I…”
“Yes?”
What had wikiHow said? What was on the card? Her mind had gone completely blank. It was as if Ash had some spooky power over her, the power to wipe all words from her mind like a human white-board eraser. A human white-board eraser! What am I doing? What am I thinking? She had to get a grip. Say his name. Ask for help, her inner voice yelled.
“I need your help, Ash.” No! That sounded all wrong. It was way too serious, way too soon. Talk about the weather. “Lovely weather,” she added.
Ash half-grinned, half-frowned, like he couldn’t decide if she was funny or deeply troubling. “What? Oh. Yes, it’s nice to see the sun. So, how can I help?”
“What?”
“You said you needed help.”
“Oh. Yes. Yes, I do – Ash. I need help with pigs.” I need help with pigs. Yep, that sounds really attractive.
“With pigs?”
“Yes. For something at school.” That was better. That was slightly more sane.
Ash nodded. “Ah, I see. Of course – I’d love to help.”
Maali said a silent prayer of thanks to wikiHow.
Ash did up his scuffed leather jacket and rubbed his hands against the cold. “But I’m on a half-day today. I’m just off to college.”
Maali’s heart sank. They were doomed!
Ash took a woollen hat from his pocket and put it on, making his cheekbones even more pronounced. “Is there any chance you could come back tomorrow afternoon?”
“Yes! Of course.” Maali took a deep breath and tried not to give any hint that right now a choir of angels was singing a rousing chorus of “Hallelujah” inside her head. “What time?”
“Four?”
“That’s great. Thank you so much, Ash.”
“You’re very welcome, Maali,” Ash said, an amused twinkle in his eye. “See you later.”
Maali turned and headed back out of the farm. A lone blackbird perched on top of a spindly tree gave a long, piercing squawk, but to Maali it sounded as sweet as the coo of a dove.
Rose took a gulp of her drink and felt the vodka burning a trail down her neck. The music in the club was so loud it was reverberating right through her. Usually she liked this because it helped to blur the edges between her and the music, but tonight it only added to her nerves. What had happened earlier with her mom had completely thrown her. She’d been feeling so calm when she’d been baking, almost happy, but now it was like the world had tilted slightly off its axis and nothing was quite as it should have been. Matt, for instance. He should have been all over her by now so that she’d be able to sneak her hand into his jacket pocket and fish out his phone, but instead he was standing with Jasmine and Will, swigging from his bottle of beer. Rose took another gulp of her drink and adjusted her skirt. She hated wearing skirts, especially ones this short, but it was a price worth paying if it helped get Matt’s attention – if it helped get Matt’s phone.
The band finished playing and, in the split second of silence before the shouts of applause, she heard Jasmine’s fake laugh ring out like a siren. She watched as Jasmine brushed a floppy lock of hair from Matt’s face. No freaking way! Rose was not letting that happen until she’d deleted the photo. She strode over to them. “Hey,” she murmured in Matt’s ear.
“Hey.” He looked at her and looked away. Shit. But then it came. The double take. He looked back at her, eyes wide. The extra make-up and low-cut top had clearly paid off. “Hey,” he said again, circling her waist with his arm. Rose glanced at Jasmine and felt a stab of satisfaction at the flicker of disappointment on her face. “You look amazing,” Matt said as Jasmine turned away. His breath was hot and beery on her face. Rose tried not to flinch.
“Thanks. So do you.”
Matt nodded. Arrogant asshole.
The band started playing another song and a loud screech of feedback rang out round the club. Rose flinched as it pierced her eardrums.
Matt pulled her closer. “Do you want to go somewhere quieter?”
“Like where?”
“Seb’s.”
Matt’s friend Sebastian lived just off Camden High Street, about two minutes from the club. Maybe she should go there with him. Maybe if they went back there it would be easier. She could get him to take out his phone. Then wait for him to need to use the bathroom, quickly delete the photo, make her excuses and leave. That would work, wouldn’t it? Her brain felt fuggy from the heat and the noise and the vodka. She didn’t like feeling like this. She liked feeling sharper and more in control.
“Why not?” she murmured in his ear.
He looked at her, surprised. “Seriously?”
She nodded, then made herself kiss him.
Matt quickly put his beer down on a nearby table. “OK. Great. I’ll get his keys.”
Rose took out her lipstick and quickly reapplied. She wished she could shake this unsettled feeling. She shouldn’t have had so much to drink before leaving home tonight. Why did her mom have to be such a crazy-maker?
“Come on,” Matt said, slinging a heavy arm around her shoulders.
“Where are you guys going?” Jasmine shouted over the music.
“Private party!” Matt yelled. Again, Rose saw the flicker of disappointment on Jasmine’s face. As of tomorrow Jasmine could help herself, but right now she could go to hell. Rose gave Jasmine a forced smile and put her arm round Matt’s waist.
Seb’s house was at the end of a narrow residential street. Matt paused before unlocking the door and pulled Rose to him. Their teeth clashed as he kissed her hard on the mouth. She pulled away, trying not to shudder.
“What’s up?” he said.
“Nothing. Let’s go inside.”
He nodded and fumbled with the key in the lock. Finally, he got the do
or open and they stumbled into a darkened hallway. Matt flicked on a light switch and led her into the living room. It was like stepping inside an Ikea catalogue, all pine floorboards and white-washed walls and furniture in every shade of taupe. Rose willed Matt to sling his jacket onto an armchair and go to the bathroom. But instead he headed straight over to a drinks cabinet in the corner. “Whisky?” he asked, waving a bottle in the air.
“Sure.” Rose wracked her brains trying to think of some way to get his phone. It was like sifting through treacle. “Hey, have you seen that thing on Facebook?”
Matt sloshed some whisky into a couple of glasses. “About your mum?”
Rose’s heart skipped a beat. “No. What about my mom?”
“Getting dropped by that cosmetics firm.” Matt brought the drinks over to the sofa and sat down.
So that’s why Savannah had been in such a rage. She’d lost the contract. Her major contract.
“Come and sit down,” Matt said, holding her drink out to her.
Rose perched beside him and took the glass. She couldn’t think about Savannah now, she needed to get the photo. “No, I meant the video that everyone’s talking about on Facebook. The one about the – the kitten. Do you have your phone? I can show it to you.”
Matt looked at her and laughed. “There’s only one thing I want you to show me,” he said, his voice slurry from drink, “and it’s not on Facebook.” He took a swig from his glass, then shifted up close to her. As he moved in to kiss her Rose blocked her mouth with her glass. She took a slug of whisky and almost wretched. It was vile. But it was better than kissing him. Anything was better than kissing him.
“We don’t have much time, you know,” he said, leaning forwards to put his drink on the floor. “Seb will be back soon.” He took hold of her hand. “I can’t believe I’ve finally got you alone. I was beginning to think you were just a tease.”
Rose took another mouthful of the vile drink. How could she get hold of his phone? Her head began to pound. Matt took her glass and put it down on the floor. “You drive me crazy,” he whispered, right in her face.
“I – I need to use the bathroom,” she said. His face clouded over. “Before, you know…” His expression lifted.
“Sure. It’s down the hall, last door on the right.”
Rose stumbled out into the hallway. She looked longingly at the front door. She could leave right now, but then she’d never get the photo, so she turned and headed for the bathroom. It was like walking on a ship. With every step the floor seemed to lurch and roll away from her. Rose staggered into the bathroom and over to the sink. She. Had. To. Sober. Up. She splashed some cold water on her face, then looked in the mirror. Her reflection was out of focus, as if the mirror were covered in steam. Rose sat on the edge of the bath and took a deep breath and then another. Finally, when she was feeling slightly more together, she made her way back to the living room. Matt was standing, his jacket flung on the floor. “I need to go now too,” he said. “Back in a sec.”
Through her vodka-haze Rose felt a sharp stab of relief. Heart pounding, she crouched on the floor and fumbled in his jacket pocket for the phone. What if he’d taken it with him? What if he’d put it in his jeans pocket? But he hadn’t. It was there. She typed in the passcode. He’d told it to her one time when he’d asked her to take a photo of him playing rugby. She clicked on his text messages and started scrolling through, but her message wasn’t there. Why wasn’t it there? He must have moved the picture. He must have saved it to his phone. She opened the pictures folder and started flicking through selfie after selfie of Matt. In his rugby kit. In the mirror. On the beach. On the ski slope. Where the hell was the picture of her?
“What are you doing?” Matt stood in the doorway, glaring down at her. She wasn’t sure if he was swaying or the whole room was.
“I was just…”
“What?”
She stumbled to her feet. “I was just going to show you that video on Facebook.”
“On my phone?”
“Yes. I left mine at home.”
They stared at each other for a second. Matt carried on frowning. He didn’t believe her. Shit. Rose took hold of his hands and pulled him towards her. Something else flickered in his eyes and his frown softened. “Come here,” she whispered.
And then he was up against her, holding her so tight she could barely breathe, his mouth sucking on hers like a leech.
He wouldn’t let her come up for air and she felt as if she was falling, falling down into darkness. Rose staggered backwards towards the couch. “I need to sit down.” Matt nodded. His eyes were glazed and he was panting like he’d just run a race. She blinked and gasped for breath. And then she heard something clink: a belt buckle. He was undoing his belt and walking towards her. “No, I…” Her words felt like fluffy balls of cotton wool clogging up her mouth. “I don’t…”
“Rose,” he whispered, pushing her back on the couch. She heard him panting in her ear. It was so loud it was like he’d crawled inside her head.
“I can’t, I…” She started pushing back against him.
“What?” he said, pulling the strap of her top down over her shoulder.
“I can’t do this,” she said.
“Don’t be silly,” he said. And then his mouth was crushing down on hers, bringing with it the sour taste of stale beer. The weight of his whole body was pressing down on her now. She tried to push him off, but his arms were pinning hers. She tried to kick out, but her legs were pinned down too. He was so heavy. It was like being trapped beneath a boulder. Fear ricocheted through her body and bile burned at the back of her throat. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t escape. Then he let go of one of her arms and started fumbling with her skirt. She brought her hand up into his face and pushed it away. “I said no!” she yelled.
He slammed her arm back down. “Are you serious?” His face was right in hers now, angry and flushed. “What the hell is wrong with you? You send me those photos. You come back here with me and then you don’t want to do it.”
“I want the photo,” Rose gasped. “I want it back. Where is it?”
Matt raised himself up slightly and stared at her. “Is that why you were looking at my phone?”
Rose looked away. “I want you to delete it.”
He started to laugh. A horrible sneery laugh. “Oh, yeah. And what’s it worth?” he slurred.
“What do you mean?”
He narrowed his eyes. “What are you going to do to get it back?”
Something took hold of Rose, cutting through her drunkenness and fear. She wriggled and slammed her knee up between his legs. Matt let out a horrible high-pitched wail and keeled over to the side. Rose shoved him off her and stumbled to her feet. She staggered to the door, then glanced over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t coming after her. Matt was hunched up on the sofa.
“Come – back—” he gasped, pulling himself upright.
Rose turned and ran.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Sky lay on her bed, gazing out at the tree silhouetted against the glow from a nearby streetlight. She’d recently started talking to the tree in her mind. There was something so calming and wise about it. Something so solid. And she didn’t exactly have loads of other options on the conversation front at the moment – her dad was engrossed in Savannah, who seemed to be lurching from crisis to crisis, and Rose was clearly avoiding her at all costs.
“I’ve entered the poetry slam,” she said to the tree. It bobbed its branches as if to say “Well done”. Or was it “You’ve what?!” Sky frowned. Was she crazy to enter a poetry slam so soon? Was she going to make a total fool of herself? Although she hated to admit it, what Rose had said at the Moonlight Dreamers meeting about asking for work experience in the cake shop had been her main motivation. Sitting around and dreaming was good up to a point, but then you had to do something. “Do you think it’s too soon?” she asked the tree. This time its branches swayed from side to side, as if to say, “No, not at
all.”
She heard Savannah and Liam coming upstairs on their way to bed, but they were talking too quietly for her to make out what they were saying. They were too caught up in Savannah’s latest drama to realize that Rose had snuck out earlier this evening and still wasn’t home. Before Liam had got together with Savannah, Sky had had no interest in celebrities or their lives, but now she’d developed a kind of morbid fascination with what was happening to Savannah. Every day this week there’d been a new story in the papers and online about her age. Today Sky and Liam had got home from a trip to an art exhibition to find her sitting in the kitchen, flicking manically through Facebook and Twitter to see what people were saying about her.
Sky thought of the houseboat lying empty on the canal and felt hollow inside. Life had been so much simpler when they’d lived there, just her and her dad, the boat and the water. Now they’d got stuck in the middle of a horrible web of gossip and hatefulness. She looked down at her notebook, lying open on her poem-in-progress. Writing was the only way she had of making sense of it all. She didn’t know how Rose dealt with it. No wonder she hid away in her room most of the time.
Sky heard footsteps on the path outside and looked down. Under the streetlight Rose fumbled in her bag for her key. She looked terrible. Her hair was all over the place and her face was shiny, like it was wet – but it wasn’t raining. Sky burrowed back under her duvet and lay staring up at the ceiling. Had Rose been crying? She heard the click of Rose’s key in the lock and the door shutting very quietly. Sky lay motionless as she listened to the gentle creak of Rose’s footsteps on the stairs, then outside her door. Was Rose about to knock? Was she about to come in? She heard a muffled sound, like a cough, then the footsteps faded away. Sky rolled over and closed her eyes.
Rose half-opened one eye and looked at the clock. It was six-fifteen. Forty-five minutes since she’d finally fallen asleep. She’d been hoping that sleep would make what happened last night seem better, but it didn’t. It was a million times worse. Plus her head felt as if a marching band had taken up residence and her mouth was as dry as sandpaper. She pulled herself upright and staggered into the en-suite bathroom. When she’d got home last night she’d crawled into bed without undressing. Now, she wanted to tear off her clothes and set fire to them, to get rid of all trace of Matt – all trace of what had happened. She undressed and looked in the mirror. There was a dark grey stain on her shoulder. She rubbed at it and winced. A bruise. She looked down at her legs. They were bruised too, where Matt’s knees had pinned her down. Her stomach lurched up into her ribcage at the memory. She spun round and retched into the toilet.
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