by Bankes, Liz
I practically skip over to the next table. Being the tea lady means everyone is pleased to see me. I give Ron his tea with a supportive eye roll after Clint has just walked past and said, ‘Keep it up, ladies.’ Georgie and Tina are mid-rant when I get to them, so I agree with them for ten minutes that it is outrageous that Clint has reported them for talking when they are supposed to be working. Deborah beckons me closer when I deliver her tea and informs me that Toby in HR has a drinking problem and Piers in Accounts has a face like a ham. I don’t know who either of those people are, but I nod. And I work out which one Piers is anyway when I take tea to Accounts later.
And it gives me time to think. About the end of the summer. How everyone’s nervous about it, but also excited. And I’m dreading it. Actually dreading it. And it’s not because I always dread things and I should just be brave and face up to it. It’s because this path isn’t right. And for the right path I could be brave. And for the right person.
I get a bit carried away with my imaginary bravery and walk the tea trolley into a pillar. But I think I’m a bit closer to working out what I need to do. Or at least the next step. After I’ve mopped up the tea trolley and the floor.
Rosie has joined the conversation.
Rosie: I need to talk to you!
Rosie: Cal and I had a huge argument after I accused him of cheating on me, but it turned out he was actually going to be kicked off his course and he didn’t want me to know.
Rosie: Then he turned up at my birthday meal drunk and said he loved me but I just sat there like a heartless lemon.
Rosie: Then I went out and kissed someone called Paedo.
Rosie: And fainted down some stairs.
Rosie: But now I want him back.
Rosie: (Cal, not Paedo.)
Rosie: I also want to drop out of my course and do something else but I don’t know what!
Gabi: OMG x 6!!!
Mia: Well this is a lot to take in!
Nish: This is Nish’s mother I do not know how to stop these messages.
Nish: I hope you are well Rosie.
Gabi: You sent it to Nish’s old number you tit!
Gabi: I mean ‘you fool’. Hello Mrs Lakhani! Just tap on the list of names at the top and select to leave the conversation.
Nish: Thank you Gabi goodbye girls.
Nish has left the conversation.
Mia: Brilliant.
Mia: Anyway, WHAT?! Are you okay?
Gabi: You should have told us! We would have come to Ox to cheer you up!
Rosie: I know. But sometimes it’s hard to admit when everything’s gone wrong. But I’m going to talk to him after work and tell him that I love him and that’s what matters, not the course he does.
Mia: That’s awesome Let us know how it goes.
Gabi: I’m gonna weep!! It’s like something in a film!! Apart from the kissing Pervert bit.
Mia: Yeah maybe don’t mention that in your heartfelt speech.
Rosie: I don’t know – I think I should just tell him everything. There’s been too much hiding things recently.
Mia: Okay, but don’t open with it.
Gabi: ARGH I’m so excited. I didn’t even know you’d broken up and now there’s going to be an EMOTIONAL REUNION.
Rosie: Thanks guys! I’ll let you know how it goes.
Mia: So what kind of course do you think you want to do then?
Rosie: I don’t know. All I’ve got so far is something that involves working with people. Which I know is most jobs. But something where I was helping them would be nice.
Mia: You’re good with kids.
Rosie: Am I??
Gabi: Yeah, when I tried to read a story to Max and Cal’s evil little cousins they said ‘The pretty curly girl does it better’.
Rosie: They’re not evil – they’re just a bit spoiled!
Gabi: George bit my leg and growled, but whatever. Anyway, children – yes!
Mia: A job taming evil children?
Nish has joined the conversation.
Nish: My mother says you’ve had some sort of breakdown.
Mia: Not a breakdown – a break-up, but it’s all going to be okay!
Gabi: We’re helping!
Rosie:
Chapter 35
I have a couple of hours’ data entry and then it’s time to go home. I also get Nish to assure me that her mum won’t tell my parents about me changing my course. Our parents aren’t friends or anything, but in my head all mums are in a secret network where stuff like this is instantly broadcast to the group.
I wave goodbye to people on my way out and get some weird looks. They’re probably wondering why I’m so cheerful. Or who I am. But it doesn’t dampen my mood. The internship is suddenly quite fun. I might be getting somewhere on sorting out the course. Now for the relationship.
When I woke up in Cleo’s room yesterday Cal had already gone out to work. Apparently he’d taken the double shift last minute because he didn’t think I’d be celebrating my birthday in Oxford after what happened at the meal. Neither did I, to be honest. The day ended up being really nice, because the housemates took me out for a picnic. I texted Cal a few times, but I was asleep when he got in from work and then he was asleep when I left this morning, so we haven’t had the chance to talk properly. But I know he’s free tonight. Dan said that when he spoke to him, Cal had no plans this evening except ‘lying on the sofa in the nude’.
I redo my make-up in the work loos. I’m wearing the dress I wore on our first date. I get some food from the supermarket and text Dan asking if I could take over the kitchen this evening and possibly borrow some candles.
Wow, Rosie, you really know how to get on my wick . . . Jokes! Of course you can have the kitchen. Hope you guys have fun
And all the way home I’m practising my speech. I’m so flustered thinking about it that I almost don’t notice the envelope lying on the kitchen table.
Hey Rosie,
I’ve realised we just aren’t going to sort this out. We’re too different. You’re going places and you don’t want some drop-out who hasn’t a clue what he’s doing with his life dragging you down.
I’m going home for a few days to hang with my brother – think I need time to get my head straight and figure out what I want.
I’ve had an awesome year with you. You changed my life. Thank you for everything you’ve done and I’m sorry I couldn’t be the guy who deserves you.
I hope we can be friends.
Love you always, Bumhead.
Cal x
Chapter 36
‘So, guys,’ says Clint. ‘Even though it eats into our selling time, and so, into the profit the company makes, and so, ultimately into all of your wages, company policy requires us to have leaving nibbles and drinks for every departing employee, even temps.’
He lifts his small plastic cup and tilts his head at me.
‘So I’ve provided nuts, because you can eat them quickly and, ideally, at your desks. And —’
His assistant Mary leans over and whispers in his ear.
‘Except for Sue,’ he carries on, ‘who has a severe allergy. Sue, you should probably just leave the room because I have put the nuts everywhere.’
There’s a pause as Sue leaves.
‘You will also find bottles of fizzy grape juice, so as not to tempt any of you recovering alcoholics. So no slipping gin in it under your desk, Toby! Ha ha.’
Toby doesn’t laugh.
‘So everyone charge your cups and raise a toast to the temp,’ says Clint.
‘To Ian!’ calls Ron and he points at my chart on the wall, with its one hit.
‘To Ian!’ shouts everyone else. And then we all go back to our desks to eat our individual portions of nuts.
So that’s that. They end of my placement.
Simon and Arlo are both on their laptops and Dan is reading, while I wait downstairs in the living room for Cleo to get ready. We’re going out for a drink. It’s funny that she’s the one I’ve turned to no
w. I’ve spent most of the evenings of my last week in her room. She worked out quite early on that I didn’t really want to talk about Cal, so she didn’t ask me. We’ve been discussing my changing courses plan and have come up with something I’m actually excited about (along with the usual nerves of course). But rather than just scary it feels like a challenge. And something I could do.
It’s been a relief to talk about other stuff. It’s not that I’m not grateful for all the texts the other girls have been sending me and for all the lovely things they’re saying; it’s just that it’s a reminder of something I wish wasn’t true. And every reminder is like reliving the moment I found out.
Just then I get a message from Gabi about how she’s planned all these things to cheer me up at the party weekend and that boys are rubbish anyway. The pain goes sharp again. I sit there and wait for it to go back to just the dull, hollow ache and I realise Dan is looking at me.
‘Is Cleo okay?’ He frowns.
She has been in a bit of an odd mood since the night with Martin and the fainting. But I know she doesn’t want to talk about it so, like she does with Cal, I haven’t brought it up.
‘Yeah, she’s fine I think!’ I say.
Dan narrows his eyes at me. He is about to speak when suddenly there’s a deafening, screeching noise from outside, followed by a thud and a strange cry.
We all look at each other. No one wants to be the one that goes outside.
Eventually Dan moves towards the door, but as he does a figure appears at the glass and the doorbell rings, making him jump.
He opens the door to reveal a middle-aged man in glasses who looks pale and shaken.
‘Did you have a pet cat?’
Chapter 37
When Dan comes back in with Nigel wrapped in a coat, Cleo is standing at the bottom of the stairs. I don’t know how long she’s been there. Her face is expressionless. Slowly she turns round and then she walks back up. We hear the door of her room shut.
‘She never liked Nigel,’ mutters Arlo.
We go back into the sitting room and Simon and I sink down into the sofa. Dan lays the bundle on the coffee table and sits on the arm of the chair, while Arlo hovers sadly by the window as if he’s hoping there’s been some mistake and Nigel is going to come running over and paw at the glass to be let in.
‘We should have a proper funeral,’ says Arlo, his voice choked up, and Simon nods in agreement.
I meet Dan’s eye. We both know that we’re the ones who will go along with everything to keep the others happy and that neither of us will point out that burying a cat in the garden might go against the tenancy agreement.
‘We should set her alight on a boat on the river,’ says Simon.
‘No we shouldn’t,’ says Dan.
‘And someone needs to tell Cal,’ says Arlo.
They all instinctively look at me, remember, and then look away awkwardly. Dan says that he’ll give him a call. Then he says he’d better go and check if Cleo’s okay as well. Arlo comments, ‘Don’t bother – it’s not as if she cares,’ but Dan ignores him and goes upstairs.
Arlo follows him out and starts throwing things around in the cupboard under the stairs. I assume he’s looking for a coffin. Simon and I stand in the hallway watching him.
‘She was such a good cat,’ Arlo says as he throws a shoe and a tennis racquet out of the cupboard. ‘Remember how she used to go round lapping up all the milk in the cereal bowls after breakfast so there wasn’t as much washing up to do?’
I can’t share as many Nigel memories, obviously. On one of the first nights I spent here I woke up and she was sitting on the pillow, about a centimetre away from my face, and I screamed. Cal said it was her way of welcoming me.
I mainly feel sad for them. Cal was always sending me pictures of him holding Nigel wearing some hat he’d made, or sending me videos of when he made her walk on her hind legs. If Nigel was anything, she was tolerant.
‘You’re never alone when you have a cat,’ says Simon suddenly.
Arlo and I raise our heads in astonishment, but we don’t have time to say anything because Dan comes back down the stairs.
‘Cleo’s gone.’
Dear M,
Everything I care about turns to shit.
Chapter 38
The window in Cleo’s room is wide open and the curtains are billowing in the breeze.
‘Maybe she jumped,’ says Arlo.
‘Or climbed down,’ I say.
Simon and Dan lean out of the window and look down onto the empty patio.
‘Maybe she fell and the body disappeared,’ says Simon.
‘Or she climbed,’ I say.
Dan turns to Simon. ‘She’s not Sherlock!’
‘Well, that doesn’t make sense,’ says Arlo. ‘Because Sherlock didn’t . . .’ He sees the look we are collectively giving him. ‘Okay, I’ll go and see if she’s anywhere else in the house.’
Arlo and Simon crash noisily down the stairs and a draught from the window sweeps through the room and I notice for the first time that there is a pile of paper in the middle of the room that is gradually being scattered.
I pick one up.
Dear M . . .
Dan starts picking them up.
‘Who’s M? Her mum?’ he says.
I’m halfway through reading one of them.
‘Um, I don’t think so. Unless they have a really odd relationship.’
‘Isn’t it more likely it’s a diary?’ says Dan. ‘I mean, she hasn’t posted any of them.’
Then his cheeks go red. I saw his name on quite a few of the pages.
I can’t make sense of any of this. I think ‘M’ must be Martin, but then why would she be writing letters saying she loves him?
‘There was this guy,’ I say slowly and Dan looks up at me. ‘I know him, sort of, and I was with him on my birthday when Cleo came to find me. He looked really angry when he saw her. And she says he’s bad news.’
Dan and I stand there, frowning as we look through the letters. None of this makes sense.
I decide to have a quick look on Martin’s Facebook to see if there’s any clue as to where he is.
There’s a cry from the front of the house. So we go out of Cleo’s room and into Cal’s, which overlooks the road.
Arlo is standing on the pavement. ‘My bloody car’s gone!’
‘How would she have got the key?’ says Dan, when we go down and stand in the porch.
‘I kept it under a plant pot in the front garden,’ says Arlo.
Dan looks at him. ‘Why?’
‘So I didn’t lose it in my room,’ says Arlo.
‘Why didn’t you tell me that?’
‘Why would I?’ says Arlo.
‘So I could tell you it was a stupid idea,’ says Dan through gritted teeth.
‘I knew,’ says Simon.
‘Yeah, me too,’ I say quietly.
Dan gives an exasperated sigh and goes and sits on the stairs.
‘We could get a taxi and go out looking for her?’ I suggest.
‘And tell it to go where?’ Dan snaps.
He’s usually the one calming everyone down, so it’s even more unnerving when Dan is wound up.
‘I knew I should have put that tracking device on her phone,’ mutters Simon.
‘Oh my God,’ I say.
‘Hey, calm down – I didn’t!’ frowns Simon.
‘No,’ I say, looking at the phone in my hand. ‘His sister died.’
Everyone in the room turns to look at me and waits for me to make sense.
‘That guy, Martin,’ I say to Dan. ‘There’s a link to her tribute page on his wall. Because Saturday would have been her birthday too. It says she died in a car crash. Cleo told me she was friends with his sister. Do you think that’s got something to do with it?’
‘Maybe.’ Dan looks up from the stairs, grateful to have something to go on. ‘What was his sister’s name?’
‘Marnie,’ I say and I hand him my phone so he c
an see the whole name.
There’s a tense silence as Dan looks something up. He’s tapping the side of his phone impatiently as he waits for a page to load.
‘I found an article from the local paper . . .’ He trails off as he scans the screen. ‘There were two girls in the car – Marnie was driving, but the other girl survived. It says they were both drunk.’
‘Does it say where?’ My throat is dry as I remember Martin’s face when he saw Cleo. He blames her.
‘It was on the M40,’ says Dan. ‘It says they were driving to London. You don’t think she’s gone there?’
‘It’s got to be worth a try,’ I say.
Dan gets out his phone to call the taxi, but I stop him.
‘I know someone.’
Chapter 39
Luckily there’s only one Dave in Oxford who’s a part-time rickshaw man, part-time taxi driver, so he’s not too hard to find.
‘Hiya, love.’ He grins, his handlebar moustache nearly at his ears. ‘Fella not with you today?’
I shake my head quickly and start to explain to him about Cleo. He looks around the group and his expression becomes more serious.
‘What are we looking for?’
‘A mint-green Ford Fiesta,’ says Arlo proudly.
‘And we’re about twenty minutes behind her?’ Dave says and we all nod. ‘Best hope the lass is a slow driver.’
I didn’t even know Cleo could drive, but I don’t think that would be the best thing to say. Either way I can’t imagine her being a slow driver.
* * *
‘Up ahead!’ shouts Dan, who is sitting in the front passenger seat. ‘In the lay-by.’
We all crane our necks to see. I’m wedged in between Simon and Arlo and have a very small range of movement.
There’s a mint-green blob up ahead. It looks like she’s overshot the lay-by though, and is on the grass verge at the side of the motorway.
Dave signals and we pull over. Dan gets out straight away and runs towards the car, and the rest of us follow.