‘You couldn’t make it up,’ Charley smiled weakly. Aiden caught on to the gloom in her voice; he could tell she was scared.
‘I’m not going to let him hurt you, Chambers. Whatever happens, trust me, I’ll keep you safe.’
‘I know,’ she whispered, and he pulled her close, stroking her cheek as she let her head rest on his shoulder.
‘So, now are you going to keep your distance?’ Aiden said, squeezing her arm. She was quiet for a moment.
‘Maybe that’s not the best idea.’
‘What?’ He tilted her chin up so they were face to face. He looked mad.
‘Well, if he does know, or does suspect something, wouldn’t it be better to carry on as normal? He’ll know something’s wrong if I suddenly start ignoring him.’
‘He already knows something’s wrong,’ Aiden said sharply.
‘And besides, this way I could find out what he knows – find out more about him. Let’s face it, we don’t have the first clue about the guy. This could work to our advantage.’
Although he hated to admit it, she did have a point.
‘I don’t like it, Chambers.’
‘I know you don’t.’
‘I don’t want to put you at risk.’
‘You won’t. I can look after myself.’ Aiden raised his eyebrows. ‘Anyway, I’m sure you’ll never be far away,’ she added with a smile.
He sighed. ‘Okay, you win. I guess you’re right. What is it they say? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.’
Charley didn’t like thinking of Marcus as the enemy. It didn’t feel right. But she knew things couldn’t go back to the way they were before.
‘Everything’s happening so fast,’ she said. ‘I only just found out about all this . . . magician stuff,’ – Aiden snorted – ‘and now I’m about to go all double agent on the new kid because he may or may not know what I really am.’
‘I wouldn’t go as far as double agent,’ Aiden laughed, ‘more of a second-rate spy.’
‘Excuse me? I’d make an excellent spy.’
‘You’d make a terrible spy.’
She tried to keep a straight face, but it was almost impossible. Instead, she put a hand on his cheek and turned his face towards hers.
‘Kiss me,’ she whispered.
‘As you wish,’ he smiled.
They sat for a while – kissing, talking, holding each other – completely unaware of the eyes that were watching them from behind an oak tree in the distance.
A figure stood, hand resting on the soft bark of the tree trunk, observing the two teenagers closely. She stayed there for a while, her long hair blowing in the wind’s soft breeze, until finally she gave up and began to walk back towards the road. Her boots made footprints in the soft mud and she bent down to wipe them clean with the cuff of her sleeve.
‘Did you hear something?’ Charley asked, as Aiden played with a strand of her tangled hair.
‘Nope,’ he murmured, ‘was I supposed to?’
‘No. I just thought I heard, I don’t know . . . humming?’
‘What?’ he laughed, tugging a knot from the lock he’d been playing with.
‘Must be my imagination.’
‘Indeed,’ he said. She snuggled into the crook of his arm. ‘Don’t get too comfy.’
‘Why?’ She sat up again, wondering what he was up to.
‘We’re jumping. You ready?’
Charley looked up, her eyebrows coming together as she frowned unintentionally at him. ‘I thought you said jumping from here was stupid?’
‘It was when you were with Marcus.’
‘Aiden–’
‘Come on, you don’t think I’m going to let him have all the fun, do you?’
She thought about it for a second. It was the first time all day that he wasn’t mollycoddling her. He was telling her to do something daring – something dangerous.
‘On the count of three?’ she said excitedly. Aiden nodded and she began to count. ‘One, tw–’
And then they were away, falling from the edge, hand in hand. As they hit the water, a huge clap of thunder sounded in the sky, and then it began to pour.
‘Look to the left. Good girl, now the right, please. Excellent, now follow the torch. Again. Smashing, I think that will just about do.’
‘So what’s your verdict?’ Linda asked the doctor as Jess sat quietly on the end of her bed.
Linda had come home to find her daughter unconscious on the floor, pulse racing and eyes shut, though she could see the frantic movement underneath. When Linda had tried to wake her, Jess had begun to shake, as if having some sort of fit.
‘To be honest, I can’t say. Everything seems normal.’
‘She was burning up,’ Linda said, shaking her head at his lack of concern. ‘She was having a seizure, I watched it myself. You must be able to give her something.’
‘How can I prescribe her medication, Mrs Chambers, if there is nothing to be cured? She seems perfectly healthy. If you have any further questions though, please don’t hesitate to call me.’
Linda sighed as she let him out, cursing as she shut the front door.
‘I’m fine, Mum,’ Jess said from the top of the stairs. ‘Please don’t worry.’
‘Jessica . . .’ Linda stopped, wondering what it was she had intended to say. ‘Go lie down and I’ll make you some soup.’
‘Are you mad?’
‘I’m tired, Jess.’ Without another word, she made her way to the kitchen, grabbing a can of chicken soup from the cupboard and filling the kettle with water. Just as she was about to spoon some coffee into a mug, Charley bounded through the door, soaked to the skin, strands of wet hair stuck to her rosy cheeks.
‘Hello, Mother dearest,’ she chirped happily, grabbing a biscuit from the tin.
Linda did not return the greeting. Instead, she made her coffee, handed Charley the tin opener and said, ‘Heat your sister some soup up, will you? I need some air.’
She slipped her shoes on and wandered out the back door, coffee in hand, leaving Charley standing, bewildered.
‘What was that about?’ she said to herself, pulling a face and putting the soup into the microwave. Once it was ready, she carried it up the stairs, cursing herself for not bringing a towel as the scorching bowl began to burn her fingers.
‘Ow, ow, ow. Jess, open the door!’
‘Leave me alone,’ Jess called from inside.
Charley wasn’t waiting; her hands felt like they were on fire. She managed to turn the handle using her elbow and shoved the door open, hurrying into the room to put the soup down.
‘What did I just say?’ Jess asked, scowling at her from the bed.
‘Don’t choose now to be stubborn. I just got blisters helping you.’
‘I never asked for soup.’
‘Well, I got asked to make it, so the least you could do is say thank you.’
Charley sighed. Why did her sister always have to be so difficult? They’d been so close once, years ago, when they were both small and carefree. Jess had always looked up to Charley, idolised her in a way no one else ever had. There was only two years between them, although it used to feel like more. Now it was starting to feel like much less.
Charley couldn’t remember when they’d grown apart, or why. It had just sort of happened with no real warning. They’d gone from being sisters, best friends, to two people who lived in the same house yet barely spoke. And when they did, well, it was usually to insult one another.
‘Fine, eat it, don’t eat it. See if I care.’
Charley tossed the spoon on to the floor and stormed towards the door, stopping for a second when she heard a sob.
Brilliant. Turn on the waterworks.
‘What’s wrong, Jess?’ she asked sternly. ‘You treat everyone like crap, yet you wa
nt to be treated like a bloody saint.’
‘You aren’t exactly an angel yourself,’ Jess retorted.
‘At least I’m not an ungrateful little cow.’ Charley wanted to take the words back. She knew she couldn’t, but she wanted to. Yet she said nothing. Neither of them spoke for a moment.
Eventually Jess whispered, ‘It’s not like that, Charley.’
‘What is it like then? Tell me. Give me some idea of what it is you’re going through. Because I’m dealing with a few stresses of my own, Jess, and I don’t give you grief every time I set eyes on you.’
Charley’s head was beginning to hurt. She didn’t know why – the arguing, perhaps? She felt dizzy, and for a moment she was sure she was going to be sick. The nausea passed quite quickly, but it still left her feeling unsteady. She moved closer to Jess and took a seat on the end of the bed. She was still soaking, and for a moment she thought Jess was going to chide her for getting the duvet wet. She didn’t.
‘Talk to me,’ Charley said, gently this time. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ Jess murmured. ‘Everything. Something’s happening to me, and I don’t know what.’ Charley was listening more intently now – could Jess be . . . ? Surely she would have realised?
‘Something, as in . . . ? I need a little more than that, Jess.’
‘I don’t know, weird things. I keep blacking out, having hot flushes, that sort of thing. I have no energy, my whole body aches, and the screaming . . . the screaming’s the worst part.’
‘Screaming? What do you mean, screaming?’
‘Never mind.’
‘Jess?’
‘I want you to leave now, Charley. I need some sleep.’
‘Jess, what are you talking about? You’re scaring me now.’
‘Go away, Charley. Thank you for the soup.’
‘Jess . . .’
But Jess had already turned over, humming quietly to herself. Charley walked out of the room and closed the door.
The wind was strong and Charley struggled to keep the hair from her face, continuously tucking a long, persistent strand behind her ear which was determined not to stay there.
She’d phoned Aiden after leaving Jess, but when he didn’t pick up, she’d gone for a shower instead, immediately relaxing as the hot water made contact with her ice-cold body. Why she kept insisting on jumping into water so painfully cold, she didn’t know. Yet she didn’t regret it for a second.
She scuffed her trainers on the edge of the kerb as she walked, pulling her large khaki parka tightly around her middle. It seemed to be taking forever to get to his house.
Eventually, she turned the corner to see Aiden’s – or rather, his parents’ – familiar mansion, standing looking like something from an Edwardian period drama. Charley climbed the steps to his front door and rapped the knocker several times, a heavy brass ring that probably cost more than the door itself. There was no answer, so she tried again. Still nothing.
She took out her phone and called him, putting it to her ear as she nosily peeked through his sitting room window.
Stop it, Charley, she thought, imagining his mother’s face if she ever caught her snooping. The thought made Charley giggle. And then she thought better of it.
‘Chambers?’ His voice caught her off guard, even though she’d been the one to call him, and she just about toppled over the metal railing beside his door.
‘Aiden! Hi,’ she said, sounding flustered.
‘What’s up?’
‘Where are you? I came round to see you but you aren’t here. Well, obviously you know you aren’t here, because you’re, well, wherever you are. Where . . . are you?’ She was aware of how stupid she sounded, but sometimes she was just incapable of forming a coherent sentence around him.
‘I’m busy at the moment, can it wait? I’ll call you when I get back.’
‘It’s pretty important. I guess it can wait though.’
‘Okay, I’ll call you.’
‘All right, bye–’ Before she could finish, the phone went dead. ‘Nice talking to you too,’ she said, making her way back down the steps and up the street, leaving the Cunningham residence behind.
‘Hello, dear,’ Mrs Gibbons said, ‘looking for Abbie?’
Charley smiled sweetly and nodded. ‘Yes, please. Is she home?’
‘I’m afraid not. She left about an hour ago.’
‘Did she say where she was going?’
Carol laughed. ‘Abbie? Tell me where she’s going? That’ll be the day. I’d give her a ring if I were you, that girl could be anywhere.’
‘Okay, thanks, Carol. See you later.’
‘Goodbye, pet.’
Charley didn’t know where to go next. The two people who she could confide in, tell anything to, were both away doing . . . well, she didn’t know what.
Could they be . . . together? Charley thought, but quickly dismissed the idea. Of course they weren’t together.
She did as Carol had suggested and called Abbie’s mobile. She answered after a few rings, speaking in a hushed voice.
‘Hello?’
‘Hey, it’s me. Where are you?’
Abbie coughed into the phone. ‘I’m just . . . out. With . . . Connor. You?’
‘I came by to see you.’
‘Sorry, Charles, we’ll catch up tomorrow, yeah?’
‘Yeah, all right.’
But even as she said it, Charley knew something was wrong. She didn’t know why, or what prompted her uncertainty, but she was sure that Abbie was lying.
‘Put Aiden on the phone.’
‘What? What are you talking about?’ Abbie squeaked. She’d never been able to react well under pressure.
‘Don’t give me that, Abbie, I know he’s there. Put him on the phone.’ The line went silent, and for a moment, Charley thought Abbie had hung up. Eventually though, she heard his voice.
‘Chambers.’
‘You lied to me,’ she said, her voice wavering.
‘I never lied–’
‘You might as well have.’
‘Chambers, it’s not like that. It’s not what you think.’
‘I told you I needed someone to talk to, I told you it was important. And you’re with Abbie. My best friend.’
‘And I have a good reason for being with Abbie. I asked her to help me.’
‘Whatever, Aiden, I’m not interested. Enjoy your night.’ She cancelled the call and, resisting the urge to launch the phone at a nearby wall, stormed off in the direction of Beaton Road.
‘Well, hello, firecracker,’ Marcus said as he opened the door.
‘Can I come in?’ He noticed how upset she looked and quickly became concerned.
‘Sure, what’s wrong?’ he said, ushering her inside.
‘I don’t want to talk about it. Well, I do. But I don’t.’
‘That’s okay, we don’t have to. You want something to eat?’
‘Not really.’
‘Not even chocolate? Charley, I’m disappointed in you.’
Charley let her lips curl into a tiny smile. ‘How could I possibly refuse chocolate?’
They hurried past the kitchen where his parents were sitting, drinking red wine and discussing English literature.
‘Shouldn’t I say hi?’ Charley asked, as he took her hand and pulled her up the stairs.
‘Nah, they’ll just assume you’re my new girlfriend and ask you a million questions. I’ll never hear the end of it.’ Charley giggled sweetly, causing Marcus to go weak at the knees. Everything about her really was perfect.
He showed her to his room and shut the door, quickly trying to grab the clothes that were strewn across his floor.
‘Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company.’
‘It’s fine, I don’t judge.’
‘So what yo
u wanna do?’ Marcus asked, handing Charley a Twix and a can of Coke from the mini-fridge by his bed. She turned the can over in her hand and he said, ‘Or would you prefer beer?’
‘What? Oh, God no. This is great, thanks.’
She put the can down along with the uneaten chocolate bar and began biting her nails, glancing up at him every so often. ‘I can’t do this,’ she muttered.
‘Can’t do what?’
‘This. All of it. The lies, the apprehension. I can’t do it anymore. It’s the not knowing . . .’
‘Charley, what are you talking about?’
‘What did you see today? Tell me. Because I know you know something.’
‘Charley–’
‘Don’t lie to me, please. I’ve had enough. I know he said it could put me in danger but I don’t even care. I need to know–’
‘Charley, calm down. Who said what would put you in danger?’
Charley tried to take deep breaths. In, out she told herself. In, out.
‘Tell me what you saw,’ she asked again.
‘I saw a bunch of street lights blow up.’
‘And?’
‘That was it.’
‘Marcus–’
‘You did it.’
‘What?’
It was what she’d been expecting to hear. She’d been goading him, begging him to say it, but it still took her by surprise.
‘You blew them up. You got angry and they smashed.’
There was silence for a minute, and then Charley said, ‘Oh no.’
‘It’s okay. You don’t need to be frightened, Charley.’
‘I should never have said anything. I should go–’
‘Wait, don’t leave. Don’t you want to know how I could tell? I knew you’d done it because,’ – Marcus unscrewed the light bulb from his bedside lamp and tossed it into mid-air – ‘I can do it, too.’
The light bulb stopped about an inch from his palm and hovered there, the same way Aiden had manipulated the baseball. It began to shimmer, the filament inside sparking as energy travelled along its length.
Charley Chambers Page 10