by Susan Lewis
Molly already knew that, because she’d seen her a couple of times before, around the village, or in Chippenham with her friends from the private school. Molly used to go to private school too, in London, but when they’d moved here her mum couldn’t afford to send her to one again, so she was at the comprehensive in Chippenham now. She hated it, because everyone hated her. They called her a stuck-up bitch who thought she was better than everyone just because she talked posh, had a mother who was like, so not famous, and had gone to some snooty school before getting dumped on them there.
Allison released her long red hair from a scrunchy, then tied it back again. ‘Why do you come and sit here all on your own?’ she asked.
Molly shrugged and looked down at the stream that was flowing beneath the bridge Allison was standing on. No way was she going to tell her, because it was no-one else’s business, and anyway, it was embarrassing.
‘I mean, like, it’s a really cool place,’ Allison said. ‘You know, like pretty and that … Don’t you have any friends?’
Molly’s face tightened, her eyes stayed on the water.
‘I could be your friend,’ Allison offered. ‘I can introduce you to Cecily and Donna too. They go to my school, and they’re like, really cool, and we’ve got this like, amazing thing we do … It’s kind of secret, so I can’t tell you about it, unless you’re part of our group.’
Molly’s eyes wandered along the banks to where the stream rounded a bend.
‘You don’t say much, do you?’ Allison remarked. ‘I didn’t think you’d be shy.’
‘I’m not,’ Molly told her. ‘I was just thinking, that’s all.’
Allison shrugged and checked the belt on her really low-cut jeans, that were the same as the ones Molly had, but better. She even had a ring in her belly button and loads of make-up, and a totally cool crop top.
‘My mum doesn’t write in the paper any more,’ Molly said.
Allison’s eyes widened. ‘Why not?’
‘She just doesn’t. Actually, there are a lot of things she doesn’t do any more. She’s been like, sick and that, and …’ Her eyes went down again.
‘Is she better now?’ Allison asked.
Molly nodded shortly.
‘So what other kinds of things doesn’t she do?’ Allison wanted to know.
Molly didn’t answer, because no way was she going to make herself look stupid by telling Allison how her mum didn’t come and walk in the woods with her any more and think up things to put in their dream box. It was all just stupid stuff anyway, because no way was she, Molly, ever going to be a famous singer, or a supermodel, or go out with Justin Timberlake. Nor was her mum ever going to be a pole dancer, or go tiger-spotting in India, or do some dumb waltz in Vienna.
‘I can’t stand my mother,’ Allison confided. ‘She’s like, so embarrassing. Even my dad doesn’t want to be with her, so he stays in London most of the time. She’s always drunk, like all day, and makes herself look really stupid with my brother’s friends. Oh my God, you should see her … Toby, that’s my brother, he hates bringing anyone home because of what she might say or do. He goes to a boarding school in Devon, but he comes home sometimes at weekends, and in the week if they’ve just got like, study groups and things. He’ll be eighteen in November, the same week as I’m fifteen. How old are you?’
‘I’ll be fifteen in January.’
‘You look older.’
Molly liked the compliment.
‘Cecily and Donna can’t stand their mothers either,’ Allison prattled on. ‘Cecily’s ran off and left them a couple of years ago, and hardly ever comes back to visit, and Donna’s prefers her older sister so just completely ignores Donna. That’s like, what our group’s about really. We’ve found someone better than our mothers. Someone really cool and like, totally out there.’
Molly’s interest was piqued.
‘Trouble is, you can’t really join unless you hate your mother,’ Allison told her. ‘She’s got to like, really get on your nerves, or have done something terrible, like mine and Cecily’s … What’s your mother like?’
Molly’s expression closed down again. She wasn’t going to say she hated her, because she didn’t, but she didn’t always like her very much, and she’d really like to be in Allison’s group, because she was loads more sophisticated than the other girls round here, and anyway, it was boring and horrible not having any friends.
‘Toby’s home at the moment,’ Allison said as they started across the field together. ‘Cecily’s like, really mad about him. They’ve snogged and stuff. She says they’ve gone even further than that, but I don’t know if that’s true. She makes things up sometimes, but she’s like, so amazing. She’s got this really wicked imagination … She’s the one who came up with the idea for our group. She’s quite brainy, and knows all kinds of weird stuff. I think you’ll like her. She’s coming over later, with Donna. Have you got a boyfriend?’
Molly thought of Rusty Phillips, the ginger-haired, goofy-faced brainbox in her class who was always hanging around her, and was so rank she wanted to gag. ‘No,’ she answered. ‘Have you?’
‘Kind of. His name’s Miles. He’s one of Toby’s friends, at school. We’ve snogged a few times and I let him touch me up top once. It was a bit of a dare really, with Cecily. We kind of go in for that in our group, which is like, amazing. Oh God, I really hope they let you join, because I know you’re going to love it. Have you ever snogged anyone?’
‘Yeah,’ Molly lied.
‘Did you do anything else?’
‘A couple of things, you know.’
Allison nodded as though she did.
As they approached the gap in the hedge that opened on to the Fortescue-Bonds’ driveway, Molly was starting to feel quite excited. It was really cool to have someone she could talk to, so if she had to hate her mum to join the group, she could probably do it, because sometimes it really felt as though she did.
‘Who’s that?’ she asked, wishing she didn’t have her school uniform on as she spotted a group of boys over by what looked like the stables.
‘Oh that’s Tobes with his mates,’ Allison answered. ‘They’re motorbike mad, all of them. Tobes has just got a new one, so I suppose they’re all checking it out. Oh my God!’ she suddenly cried. ‘Martin’s here. I’ll have to text Donna. She’ll totally freak out, because she’s got this like, major crush on him.’ As she spoke she was pressing a message into her mobile. ‘I sent it to Cecily too,’ she said, when she’d finished, ‘so they’ll be over here in like, two minutes flat.’
It was about half an hour later that Cecily and Donna actually turned up, flushed and bright-eyed as they joined Allison and Molly on the grass in front of the house. The boys were about twenty yards away, apparently too engrossed in Toby’s mega new machine to notice they were being watched.
‘This is Molly Kiernan,’ Allison said, as Cecily plonked down with an ecstatic gaze in Toby’s direction.
‘Oh, your mum’s the one in the paper, isn’t she?’ Cecily asked, flicking back her mane of glossy dark curls. ‘Oh my God, Allison, your brother is like, soooo fit,’ she gushed. ‘He looks really cool on that bike.’
Cecily was so beautiful Molly was finding it hard not to stare.
‘Has Martin said anything about me?’ Donna wanted to know, her flaxen hair glinting in the sunlight, her flawless pale skin stained pink with hope.
‘He told Toby he thought you were cool,’ Allison answered. ‘And he hasn’t got a girlfriend, apparently.’
‘Oh my God!’ Donna gasped, clasping her hands to her chest. ‘He is definitely like, going to be the one I choose when we, you know …’
Allison’s eyes shot to Molly, but before she could explain the sound of another motorbike arriving cut her off. ‘Oh my God, it’s Brad Jenkins,’ she gasped as she watched it go past. ‘Molly, you wait till you see him. He is like, sooo fit. I mean, like he’s a god. I’m telling you, he’s even better than Justin Timberlake.’
Mo
lly was watching Brad as he pulled up alongside the others. In all his leathers and helmet it was hard to see what he was like, but then he took the helmet off and Molly’s heart skipped a beat. He was totally drop-dead gorgeous with his long blond hair, jet black eyebrows and tanned face. She would just die to have a boyfriend like that, and wanted to die anyway that she was stuck here in her bloody school uniform. How embarrassing was that? But he’d never be interested in her. She was too young, and he was bound to have a girlfriend anyway.
Next to her Cecily was grinning. ‘Bet you’d love to snog him,’ she whispered.
Molly smiled and blushed.
‘Imagine his lips and his tongue, and his hands going all over you …’
‘Cecily!’ Allison shrieked, laughing as she slapped her.
‘Yes she would, look at her,’ Cecily cried. ‘She’s panting for him already. Shall we tell him?’
‘No!’ Molly gasped.
‘Just kidding,’ Cecily assured her, and turning to Allison she said, ‘Have you told her anything about us?’
‘Only a bit,’ Allison answered, ‘but she’s got like, a real problem with her mum, in that she can’t stand her, haven’t you?’ she said to Molly, staring at her in a way to prompt the right response.
Molly nodded.
‘So I reckon that qualifies her right off,’ Allison declared.
Cecily and Donna turned to look at Molly. ‘Have you ever heard of Lilith?’ Donna asked after some frank assessment.
Molly frowned. ‘What, you mean like a group, or something?’ she said.
Cecily sniggered. ‘No, try again.’
Molly shrugged. ‘The only other Lilith I’ve heard of is like something to do with Eve, as in the first woman,’ she said.
Cecily clapped her hands together in delight. ‘Go to the top of the class,’ she praised. ‘Come on, let’s go inside so we can show you the stuff we’ve downloaded, and if you want to join you’ll have to go through the same initiation we all did. It’s OK, it’s nothing dangerous, but you can’t become one of the Daughters if you don’t.’
As they all got up, Donna was watching Martin while saying, ‘Has anyone heard from the pop-video guy?’
‘Yeah, I have,’ Allison answered. ‘You can read the email. It’s totally outrageous.’
‘Do you think he’s genuine?’
‘Who knows?’
As they chattered on they crossed the forecourt to go around the side of the house, passing quite close to the boys. Molly kept her head down, too shy to look, but then she stole a quick glance in their direction, and to her amazement found herself eye to eye with Brad Jenkins. A flood of colour immediately rushed to her cheeks, and when he winked she thought she was going to faint.
‘Oh my God, oh my God!’ she gasped, pushing past the others to get inside the house. ‘Did you see that? He just looked at me. Oh my God. Brad Jenkins just winked at me.’
‘I saw, I saw,’ Allison cried. ‘Oh my God, that is like, so wicked. You’ve got to choose him. You have to.’
‘Definitely,’ Cecily agreed.
‘Choose him for what?’ Molly demanded.
‘We’ll explain in a minute,’ Donna told her. ‘It’s like a mission, and you have to do it, or you can’t be one of the Daughters.’
‘She’ll do it,’ Allison declared, leading them along a back hall and up a narrow staircase. ‘Definitely. I know she will.’
Intrigued and excited, Molly followed them into Allison’s totally amazing bedroom. It was plastered in posters, had two sofas as well as a bed, a DVD and CD player, a computer, TV, the biggest collection of CDs and videos she’d ever seen, and its own private bathroom.
‘You’ve got to give us your email address and phone number,’ Allison was saying as she sat down at the computer. ‘And we’ll give you ours.’
Molly was taking out her mobile ready to put in the new numbers when it bleeped to tell her she had a text. Guessing it was probably from her mum she toyed with the idea of ignoring it, but then decided she’d better find out what she wanted.
Stuck in
Guantanamo Bay.
Pls arrange
early release.
Getting hungry.
Mumx
Molly stifled a laugh, not wanting the others to know she found her mum amusing, because then they wouldn’t believe she hated her. It was just her dumb way of calling their shed Guantanamo Bay, and telling Molly it was time to come home that … Well, it got on her nerves, but it made her laugh too. Then seeing there was more she flicked down to read it.
Michelle escaped
camp. In Lahore.
Bet she doesn’t
come. Who cares?
Molly’s spirits immediately sank, because she really, really didn’t want Michelle to come, but she just knew she would. It made her feel all weird and angry even to think about it, because it was like, so dumb Michelle coming now, when everything was starting to go right again. It would have made more sense for her to come during the chemo and stuff, when they could have done with some help. And anyway, her mum didn’t even really like Michelle, and didn’t want her to come either, so why had she gone and asked her?
‘What’s wrong? Who is it?’ Cecily asked, coming to look over her shoulder.
‘No-one,’ Molly answered, clicking off and hiding the phone.
‘No. No. Secrets aren’t allowed,’ Cecily cried, trying to grab the phone. ‘You have to tell us everything if you want to become one of the Daughters of Lilith.’
Molly’s grip tightened as she struggled to push Cecily off. ‘My aunt’s supposed to be coming here,’ she said.
‘So what’s wrong with that? What’s she like?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since I was twelve. I just don’t want her to come, that’s all.’
‘Why?’
‘I just don’t. Anyway, forget her. Tell me about Lilith and everything,’ and pocketing her mobile she went to sit on one of the window seats, where she could steal the occasional look outside at Brad and be part of her new friends’ group, and not have to think about Michelle or her mum or anything else.
Chapter Two
MICHELLE WAS SITTING with Tom Chambers in the café at Lahore airport. Usually they had much to talk about, but today they seemed to have few words left, as they contemplated the split in their worlds, the very different lives they would be leading now that she was giving all this up and returning to England.
Tom was dressed as a local, in kurta pyjamas, with a white turban wrapped around his head, and a two-day beard disguising the hard cut of his jaw. His eyes were grey, and sharp, his nose long and slightly crooked, his mouth stern until he smiled, when he became almost handsome. His height often set him apart from the crowd, but not always, for there were others as tall, though generally not quite so broad. He could boast many friends in this city, but Michelle knew there were few he trusted, for as a journalist he was viewed with much suspicion, as an American he was more often an object of hate than respect.
The noise around them was deafening. Sajid, Tom’s fixer, was beside him, talking incessantly. Though Tom was listening she could tell he was distracted, allowing his thoughts to take him out of this crowded airport café. Maybe he was thinking of the sweltering, dusty streets they’d just driven through, or perhaps mentally travelling beyond the borders of this deadly country, where life could be as cheap as the price of the next meal.
Catching her watching him he held her eyes, and seemed to query her thoughts, though he said nothing, just continued to regard her in a way that seemed either challenging or curious, she couldn’t quite tell which. She would have liked to know how he really felt about her leaving, if he was experiencing any of the wrenching sadness that was inside her, or if he was thinking about something else entirely. They’d been the closest of friends almost since they’d first met, had always relied on each other in times of need, and had rarely been very far apart. In the past months, however, she’d spent much more time at the
Shamshuta refugee camp than in Lahore, or Peshawar or Karachi, where he was more often to be found.
One airport announcement blended with the next. It would soon be time for her to go through. She wouldn’t ask when she’d see him again, because it was a pointless question. There was so much else she wanted to say, but knew she wouldn’t, because she’d left it too late, though once or twice, after they’d eaten dinner with friends last night, and strolled out on to the terrace to talk about her new life in England, she’d come close. Unless she’d imagined it, he’d seemed on the verge of telling her something too, and she thought he seemed that way now. Knowing him as well as she did, though, she suspected it was to do with a story, a detail that was niggling him, or a contact who was supposed to call.
She looked down at his hands, cupped around the small plastic beaker of coffee, large and rough, deeply sun-tanned and ringless. Her own were inches away, slender and female, smooth in comparison to his, but aged by the sun and marked by her work in the camps. It would be the most natural thing in the world to reach out and touch him now, for they often held hands, or embraced, but today, for some reason, they were both keeping a distance.
When she looked up again his expression was quizzical.
‘What are you going to do?’ he asked.
Surprised by the question, for they’d spent most of last evening discussing the reason for her return to England, she said, ‘You mean when I get there?’
Amusement came into his eyes. ‘Your flight’s been delayed,’ he told her. ‘Didn’t you hear?’
Frowning, she looked around. ‘For how long?’ she asked, unsure whether she was pleased or worried, only knowing that Katie was expecting her, and it might be easier to get this parting over with now.
‘I’ll go and find out,’ Sajid offered, rising to his feet.
‘I have to get back,’ Michelle said, looking at Tom. ‘I told Katie I’d be there today. I can’t let her down.’