Roadkill (LiveWire)

by Daisy White

  “She isn’t here,” I say with disappointment, after a prolonged study of the blogs.

  “Don’t give up so easily, look I found Kelly again,” Leo pulls her blog up and I read about an endless round of beach parties, crazy LiveWire dares in the Santa Monica mountains, and her ambitions to be a model or actress. Just a regular all American girl.

  I smile again, in her energy and enthusiasm she sounds a lot like Rose. I can see why they messaged each other. “Wait, if they were messaging and Rose did have an alias can’t you find it?”

  He taps deftly, frowning as a list of names flashes up on screen. “Got it! Look Farlan. Weird name. It links to Rose’s hotmail account.”

  Pain stabs me like an arrow in my heart, and the heat of the day, the roar of the excited crowd, fade to background noise. I am ten years old again and my big sister is filling out an entry form. One of the hundreds. I forget what it was for; gymnastics?

  “Rose is a boring name. You know when they announce you coming out, and everyone looks just at you?”

  I didn’t but I nodded anyway, swinging my legs, and drawing animals on my sketchpad.

  “I want them to remember me,” she chewed the end of her biro, black hair sleek in a high ponytail, thinking hard.

  She decided on Rose-Farlan because she said she’d seen it in a film. Farlan was, she told me, a cool name.

  Wanting to please her I chirped up “Then when you win it’ll sound really…um..cool.” My sister looked slightly condescending, but a smile hovered over her full lips. Purely for show (mum and dad were reading on the sofa), she said “I might not win.”

  She didn’t believe it anymore than I did, and I hastened to fill my usual cheerleading role, assuring her she always won. It was true, she always did, except maybe that one time. When it really mattered.

  Chapter Six

  She called herself Rose-Farlan all summer, then got bored with it and went back to ordinary old Rose. Except my sister was never ordinary. I slide a hand into my purse and touch her photo, smoothing a shaky thumb over it.

  “Caz? Come back,” Leo is waving a hand in front of my face.

  “Sorry. Yeah that has to be her.”

  The competition is still going full throttle in front of us, but there has been a mass exodus in pursuit of the pro team, who are signing autographs next to a Red Bull tent. The remaining spectators are families, or hard core knowledgeable fans who talk knowingly about half pikes. And us, looking for my sister’s murderer.

  Something niggles me about the whole thing and I hunch back on the hard wooden seat, stretching cramped legs, watching the flickering laptop screen without seeing it. Then it hits me, just a little thing, but it jars.

  “Leo don’t you think it’s weird it was so easy to find out all this LiveWire stuff?”

  He has put on his geeky huge prescription sunglasses, so I can see only myself reflected where his eyes should be. I look pale, and tired.

  “What do you mean?” he stops tapping at the computer.

  “Well …um….. It was so easy to find this stuff in her diary, and follow the link…..like we were meant to do this. Like its fate or something?” I don’t really know what I mean actually so I trail off and he stares at me, black glasses dwarfing his pointed face.

  “Forget it! Can we go in the shade Leo? My head is killing me,” I scrunch my coffee cup and aim half heartedly for the bin.

  He looks surprised, pushing the glasses awkwardly to the top of his head, “Of course. What you were saying though. Maybe it is meant to be. Seeing this whole LiveWire thing might be just what you need to give you closure on Rose’s death. We don’t have to do this now you know.”

  I stare at him, “You still don’t believe Rose was murdered do you?”

  Leo sighs, fidgeting with his bag, slipping the laptop into its leather carry case. “Honestly no. I think she was coming home and just misjudged the traffic. Sure whoever hit her should have stopped but I don’t think there is any great mystery. Sorry.”

  Aware I sound tearful, I quickly stand, take a breath, “Maybe the police missed something on the forum. They might not even have seen the blogs. We need to find out what the hell she was doing at 2am on a bloody motorway.” Even to myself I sound like a broken record, but the more people tell me to leave it alone, that there is nothing more to know….It just makes me surer that there is something. Call it instinct or just plain stroppiness, but I will find out who drove that car and why.

  “Well yeah….Look whatever you want to do I’ll help okay?” My best friend wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead, pushing back the lank straw coloured hair. “LiveWire is probably our best link so we can go back to checking out the forum and stuff?”

  I smile gratefully at him as we clank down the stands, quickly bypassing Ratz, which is packed. Stopping to grab a hotdog each from a mobile stand, (food poisoning here I come I think, then tell myself to get a life, I sound just like my mum), we dodge the crowds and take up residence underneath a huge gnarled oak tree.

  I kick off my flip flops, and remember with a pang the last time Rose and I hit the park. The day before she died, we spread out a towel right over there and just chilled out, all evening. Of course it wasn’t just us, there was a huge entourage of about eight, and Ashley sitting on Rose’s other side, bending to whisper to her, so she smiled.

  Pretending not to notice their flirtation, I was used to it, I studied the park, spotted with footballers, dog walkers, picnickers. Some younger kids were climbing the oak tree above our heads, dropping acorns into my hair. Two pairs of dusty bare legs, red nailed toes (Rose had as usual insisted on giving me a ‘makeover’ for the party later) stretched out in the low evening sun.

  Leo and I flip onto our tummies and read Rose’s blogs. Luckily she doesn’t give any explicit details, in fact she hardly mentions Ashley, except to mention she and her pro boarder boyfriend are training for an ultra in November, before heading off to climb Kilimanjaro. Oh yeah, then they were off to build a school in Kenya.

  The really interesting stuff is when she starts doing the LiveWire dares, egged on by insanely competitive Kelly.

  “Look, her first time. That’s April sixteenth. She got a win on her first go,” Leo sounds impressed.

  ‘Freaked about tonight, but really looking forward to it.’

  Then afterwards, at 4am the next day she was back, obviously buzzed;

  ‘The biggest high ever! Bring on the next one (and that’s not the shots talking!). I can’t believe what a buzz that was – Keila you are awesome!!’

  “Keila?”

  “Search me – shit! Look what she did….” Leo whistles and I just stare.

  Even though I have grown used to looking at all kinds of crazy stuff on LiveWire watching my own sister do this crap is heart-stopping. There are a few blurry photos, obviously uploaded from mobiles, and a minute or so of video, which was shown as a live feed.

  The location looks vaguely familiar, “That’s Higham Cement works!” I exclaim, recognising the derelict, graffitied chimneys, nestling into the cliffs about twenty miles from here on the coast road. The LiveWire participants are scaling a chimney that stretches maybe a hundred and fifty feet into the air, inching up to the top, and clinging to a rusty guard rail. For a moment I think that’s it and actually think it’s a pretty easy dare compared to some of the ones I’ve watched, then I realise there is a metal beam, I guess originally fallen from the rusting crane that dangles from the cliffside, high above the brick chimneys.

  The beam has come to rest, or maybe been positioned, between the two chimneys, like a terrifying high wire. Or a gymnastics beam. One by one the kids inch across the metal rod, some crawling, one faltering step at a time. A girl is crying, and I can hear the chink of glasses, which, in the video, they then hurl off the edge, along with the bottle of vodka, which smashes on the rusty machinery far below.

  I can identify Rose immediately, instead of shaking or crying she steps confidently onto the beam, and halfway across, t
o screams of horror and delight, swings into an easy handstand. Her dark hair brushes the beam, dangling into space. Oh my god…

  The last photo shows a couple of lads, and my sister, posing for the camera, sticking out their tongues, giving a thumbs up. I wonder fleetingly what happened to the crying girl. Did she make it, or did she give up and climb down. No wonder Rose won that one. I will see her in my nightmares, caught in the glare of a security searchlight, silhouetted against the inky sky, laughing. Always laughing, especially when there was danger. Was my sister ever scared? Even that last time…

  *

  The party is buzzing, and to my vague surprise I am almost enjoying it, except for the small fact that it’s at Anita’s house. After the competition we hung out in the park, then Leo and I sort of drifted along with the mob, and luckily ended up right next to Ashley and Matt.

  “What are they doing here?” Anita snapped, her straggling black hair cascading in ringlets, highlighting her scrawny too tanned shoulders.

  Ashley shrugged and shoved us ahead of them, “Guess you must have invited them.”

  “Hey Anita,” Matt smiled his devastating slow smile, distracting her further.

  “Hey Matt.”

  Puke, I exchange looks with Leo, but we head out through the French doors (Anita’s house is a mega six bedroom palace); a far cry from the Estates. Lots of kids I vaguely recognise are dancing, drinking, and chucking each other in the shimmering swimming pool. Wow.

  There is however, a reason we are gate crashing this party, and after grabbing a violent looking red cocktail (Leo) and a vodka shot (me) I whisper to Leo and we agree to split up, working the garden. We decided, in the unlikely event it wasn’t a LiveWire dare that killed my sister, we would check out the kids from college, and from the skate park. It was Leo’s idea and he was so into spending a night playing detective I didn’t have the heart to talk him out of it. Also, although I couldn’t bring this up for obvious reasons, I was dying to talk to Ashley. At the inquest it was kind of hard on him, as he was the last person to see her alive.

  “Caz, don’t get mad but you should be careful round Ashley okay?” Leo is looking all adult and concerned and my heart starts to thump faster.

  “Why? Something I should know?”

  He shrugs and sips his drink, “I think he might be hiding something. That skate kid Red Bull stuff is all for show, he’s smart, and you said he’s taken drugs. What if Rose found out and…..” he tails off, “I’m just telling you what I think.”

  “Come on Leo, you have to be kidding!” He might as well have accused my mum.

  “It’s fine. I’m just saying what I think Caz. Don’t get upset. Meet you later by the pool.” He squeezes my arm, while I stand like an idiot, trying to process this information. What is he implying? That Ashley, and by definition Matt, I suppose are some hard core drug dealers and Rose knew about it. No chance. I think back to the call Ash took while Matt was, what? Distracting me? What were they really doing down by The Road….

  Ouch. I gulp back the alcohol and it hits the back of my throat, burning, making me cough. That is crap, there is no way Ashley was involved. Against my will I remember the papers tried to make out Ashley had something to do with her death, you know, a lovers’ tiff, he ditches her for the long walk home, changes his mind, blah blah… But Mum and I knew it was lies, and we sat with Ashley’s parents just to make a point.

  “Caz! You ok?”

  I whip round and see Melissa waving at me across the barbeque, out the corner of my eye I also catch a glimpse of Leo hastily losing himself in the crowd and suppress a giggle.

  “I was meaning to come over and see you, but I…um,” she looks embarrassed, I take pity on the poor girl. It was the same when Dad was killed, nobody knew what to say, avoided us or crowded us, too much pity or too little. You can’t ever get it right when someone dies, you just have to follow your instinct. One of The Vultures told me I shut everyone out after Dad’s death, she said to avoid the loony bin I needed to make an effort to re connect with my friends and family this time.

  I expect you can imagine what I said, well shouted actually. Anyway, the point is I like Melissa; we hung out a couple of times when Leo wasn’t around. She’s cool, blonde and tall with very white teeth, like a mouthwash advert.

  “That’s alright. I’m ok, really.” Stupid but I feel a bit shy suddenly, aware that I haven’t been to a party like this without my sister. This gathering is missing its star attraction, although Anita is desperate to fill the limelight, working it in her denim mini and pink sequin crop top.

  Melissa grabs another drink off the garden furniture, which looks expensive but is now littered with half empty bottles and broken glass. “God that Anita is such a bitch! Do you know what she just said to me?” Without waiting for an answer she continues, waving her glass for emphasis “Oh Melissa that top really suits you, it hides all the fat bits! Can you believe that?”

  “Unfortunately yes, she said pretty much the same to me the other night. But at least you won’t have to see her after this summer. Are you still going to Liverpool?”

  “If I get my three A’s. Forensic Science here I come! You’re doing Biology right? And Chemistry? Good choice.”

  “Um…,” Straight answer yes, answer I really want to give, no. The closer I get to reading any sort of sciences, with the prospect of becoming a teacher, a doctor, or being stuck in a lab somewhere like Mum, the more I want to scream and run away. Surprising myself I give her the truth, “I kind of wonder if I could apply to art school instead, you know like St Martin’s in London?” Just to pluck a random name out the air, not one I have dreamed of the whole two years at college.

  “Art school – wow! Don’t you have to have A level art though?”

  Another stumbling block, “Well I checked and they accept you if you have a promising portfolio. I didn’t want to do sciences, but my mum wanted me to do a ‘proper’ subject, and I kind of felt I had to, you know what with my dad dying and everything.”

  A particularly piercing scream and a huge splash indicates Anita has kicked off the skinny dipping. Melissa is nodding wisely, “I know what you mean, I didn’t have a clue what I wanted to do, and it’s all serious, like you can’t change your mind. Then one night I was watching CSI and it just clicked. My dad’s a vet and he wanted me to do animal science, so he’s kind of happy, but it shouldn’t be about him should it?”

  Hmmm, I’m not sure watching a crime show and bang deciding on a career is the best idea, but I like her style!

  I can see Leo signalling over Melissa’s shoulder, geeky glasses glinting in the flickering light. But I am quite liking the feeling of having a normal conversation. Proving to myself, I can still survive socially without Rose.

  “Hey Caz!”

  It’s Matt and my poise shatters. The same honeyed tones he used on Anita, and Melissa is showing no sign of leaving, winking at me in a go-for-it-girl kind of way.

  Chapter Seven

  “Can I get you another drink?” He is standing close and our arms touch.

  I jump like I got an electric shock and mumble some rubbish about having had enough, then inwardly curse myself for sounding like an old woman.

  “We were just saying about next year, you know uni and that. What are you doing Matt?”

  His eyes crinkle when he grins, and his messy black hair is just a bit too long for style, but it suits his laid back demeanour. A land- locked surf bum. “I got an offer of a place at Durham to read English, and one at Imperial for Maths.

  “Wow!” Melissa exclaims. It seems to be her catch phrase and is kind of endearing, “That’s really diverse. What are you going to choose?”

  His eyes sparkle, holding mine a little too long, making me flush, glad it’s dark out here. But he doesn’t make the mistake of ignoring Melissa, “I just got the offer of a place on the Red Bull team as well. A chance to go out to Mexico for a promo tour. Not sure I can turn that down.”

  “That’s amazing! You
must go,” Melissa beams, then tips me another of her very conspicuous winks, “I just have to go talk to Tracy over there. Call me Caz and we’ll fix something up.” She raises a hand in farewell, and vanishes into the heat and the crowds, and I look at the ground giving Matt a chance to escape. He doesn’t.

  “I’m so sorry about your sister, Caz.”

  “Yeah, you said,” I hastily clear my throat, “Sorry that wasn’t meant to sound bitchy, and thanks…..” I’m suddenly aware I don’t want Rose to dominate the conversation.

  “She was great you know, Ashley was really into her. Thought they would wind up married with kids.”

  “Hmm. After they conquered the world!”

  We laugh, and I swear he moves closer, but a couple of congaing lads bash into us sending me flying into a garden seat.

  “Idiots! You okay?”

  “Fine. They’re just pissed.” Leo is signalling again from the other side of the pool, looking annoyed, but I can’t tear myself away. This is only the second proper conversation I’ve had with Matt and its giving me a buzz.

  “Well you must really miss Rose. I mean you two were like best friends. My sisters always fight.”

  Confused, I wonder if I’ve misread him. Perhaps he fancied Rose too. Of course he did, they all did. And best friends? She was mine but would she say the same about me? Lately I’ve started to wonder….

  “So what’s with you and Leo?” He downs the last of his drink and looks at me in a way that makes it clear I have misread nothing.

  “Nothing, we’re mates.”

  “Come on, you guys are practically joined at the hip,” he teases.

  “He’s gay!” It’s out before I realise it and jeez, Leo is going to kill me.

  Matt scoffs, grabbing a bag of crisps from the pile food laid out on wooden trays next to a lounger, “Yeah right Caz. He fancies you.”

  I take an offered crisp; salt and vinegar, my favourite, but I’m getting agitated, “What’s it to you anyway?” Bizarrely I feel a bit teary.