Looking for JJ (21 page)

 

Lucy had told them everything. They were angry with her and demanded to know what had happened after Lucy had left the reservoir. Jennifer wanted to tell them. She wanted to open her mouth and let the words come out, but something was stopping her. Their faces were all around, firing questions at her.
Why had she lied? What had happened? Did she know where Michelle was?
All she could do was nod. Yes, she did.

Mrs Livingstone’s face lit up. She gripped on to her husband.
No, no
, Jennifer wanted to say.
She’s still dead. It’s just that I know where she is.

They got into the police car, she and Lucy and a policeman and woman. Behind them were Michelle’s mum and dad, getting into their car. On the pavement her mum was moving back and forth, a confused expression on her face. She wasn’t coming. Jennifer peered out of the back window of the car as it went slowly up the lane and saw her mum getting smaller and further away. Sitting beside her, Lucy was talking all the time, explaining about what they’d done and the accident that had happened when she had fallen into the water. Her voice was steady as she told the policewoman that Jennifer had saved her from drowning.
What do you say, Jennifer? Is this what happened?
The policewoman’s voice made her turn round, away from the sight of her mum disappearing in the distance.

Jennifer couldn’t speak. Her tongue seemed numb, incapable of making a sound.

Moments later they swept into the official car park of the reservoir followed by Mr and Mrs Livingstone. A park ranger in a waterproof jacket and green trousers was waiting for them. He nodded to the policeman and pointed to a Land Rover. There was a hold-up, though. The policewoman said that Mr and Mrs Livingstone had to stay with her in the car park. There was an argument, with Mrs Livingstone raising her voice and getting upset. Jennifer stared at her, letting the words of the argument go over her head. Mrs Livingstone’s skin looked dry and yellow, her mouth hanging open, her lips sucked of colour. The only living thing about her was her eyes – dark and wild, they turned from speaker to speaker and then finally they rested on Jennifer.

Another police car came into the car park, and the officers pulled Michelle’s parents back, saying things about ambulances and doctors.

Jennifer, Lucy, one of the policemen and the ranger got into the Land Rover. It drove slowly along the lane, going over the uneven path and dipping in and out of holes. It skirted the lake in no time. They got out at the point where the lane split and forked off up into the wood. The park ranger was mumbling about a
prohibited footpath
and
no public right of way
.

Lucy led the way and they walked in a line
.
Jennifer looked round to see that the ranger was carrying a small case with the words
First Aid
on it. That’s when it dawned on her. They were all making the same mistake that she and Michelle had made. When Lucy had told them that her brothers had a den they’d thought of a cabin or a tent or a cave. Something proper; shelter, a place where a person could survive. They’d misunderstood. They didn’t know it was only a hole. She stopped for a moment, her legs giving way underneath her. They thought they were going to find Michelle
alive
.

“Come on now, Jennifer!”

The police officer’s voice was sharp, like the crack of a whip. She walked on, behind Lucy, in front of the adults; a strange procession winding up the incline. At the gap in the trees she slowed up, her feet heavy and her legs thinning away to nothing. Lucy said,
It’s along here
, and they all went in through the trees, walking carefully through the darkened undergrowth, twigs and dried grass cracking under their feet. Stepping out, into the light, they all stood by the side of the water, looking disorientated.

“Where are we?” the policeman said.

“It’s an outlet. In case the water level gets too high, they let some of it drain away,” the ranger said.

Jennifer wasn’t really listening. She was staring at the branches that covered the hole, more untidy now than she remembered leaving them.

“Where’s this den, Lucy?” the policeman said.

Lucy pointed and they all looked mystified. Jennifer almost wanted to smile.
We were exactly the same!
she wanted to say.
We were disappointed too.

“Where, Lucy?”

“Over there, where all those branches are.”

The policeman strode over. He glanced down on to the branches and Jennifer held her breath.

“It’s just a hole,” he said, looking puzzled.

He hadn’t seen her. She was underneath the branches. He had to look more closely.

“It’s where my brothers keep their stuff. You’ve seen it, haven’t you, Jen? Sleeping bags, food. . .”

Lucy nervously listed the things they’d unpacked the day before until the policeman interrupted her.

“But where’s Michelle?” he said.

“Underneath the branches,” Jennifer said, her voice squeaking.

She’d been quiet for hours it seemed, and now she was the one sounding like a mouse. They stared at her with surprise. The policeman looked down again. He shook his head in a mystified manner and used his foot to dislodge a couple of the branches. He mumbled something to the park ranger. He wasn’t taking it seriously. He didn’t believe her. She walked across and bent over, pulling at the branches.

“She’s in here,” she said. “SHE’S HERE!”

But there was just a hole. The earth was damp and smelled of the lake. Pulling the branches away, one by one, she stared with horror. There was no one there. Michelle had gone.

 

Frankie was smiling when he finally got to the shady tree. His hands were joined in a kind of mock prayer. Then one of them turned into a fist and he started to bang his own head with it.

“I am a prat,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He put his arms round her and lifted her off her feet.

“Do you forgive me?” he whispered.

She smiled. Of course she forgave him.

“I need a drink,” she said. “Otherwise I’ll die of thirst.”

He laughed, dropping the rucksack to the ground. He pulled out the bottles of water and the blanket they’d brought with them for their picnic. Alice sat on it and drained the bottle, feeling the cold water cooling her throat. Then he was beside her, kissing her, gently at first, then with fervour, making her head spin as she lay back on to the blanket with him leaning across her, his whole body pinning her down. She closed her eyes and felt the breeze on her face, the sound of the leaves rustling gently above. When he moved on top of her she put her arms around his neck and held him tightly. After a few moments he arched back and looked at her questioningly. She nodded and he sat back, fiddling in his pockets, undoing his trousers, while she eased up pulling her jeans and pants over her thighs and off.

When he lay on top again she felt the warmth of his skin on her stomach and legs. She sensed his hesitation as he reached for her, then a rush of energy with his mouth on her face, her neck and her shoulders, his hands pulling at the few clothes she had left on. Then it was over and he was slumped on her, his breath coming in great gasps as if he’d just climbed a mountain.

“I love you,” he said.

She closed her eyes. Was it fair? That she should be so happy?

 

They were around a hole in the ground. The policeman, the ranger, Lucy and Jennifer. The hole was empty even though Jennifer was scrabbling in it, crying hysterically, shouting out incoherent nonsense about
wild cats
.

Something caught the policeman’s eye. A flash of pink from further up, in the bushes. He didn’t say anything at first, just moved his head to get a better view of whatever it was.

“Oh no,” he said, moving away.

Jennifer stopped and looked up. Lucy was already following the policeman.

“Oh no, my God!”

Jennifer heard his voice and the radio crackle into life. She walked towards where the policeman was and saw, on the ground, the garish pink of Michelle’s jumper.

“Don’t let the children see this!” the policeman said.

The park ranger, his mouth hanging open, turned to the two girls and tried to shoo them away. His heart wasn’t in it though, and Jennifer broke through and stood beside the policeman, looking down at her dead friend.

 

 

 

They took Sophie to the pleasure beach to make up for the fact that she hadn’t gone on the walk. She spent ages getting ready, showing Alice a variety of outfits while Frankie sat on the bottom stair flicking through the newspaper. When she finally came out of her bedroom Alice noticed a hint of eyeshadow. They got the bus to the seafront and Frankie sat on one seat and she and Alice on another.

“What’s that terrible smell?” Frankie said, suddenly, sniffing around like a dog.

Sophie and Alice looked puzzled.

“Oh, it’s just Sophie’s perfume!” he said, grinning.

“You!” Sophie said, pushing her glasses up her nose.

She linked Alice’s arm as they walked along the front. The sun was low in the sky, too bright to look at and Alice held her hand up to shield her eyes. In front, Frankie was walking casually, his arms swinging confidently, a swagger in his step. She thought of him earlier on, lying beside her on the grass, his body still, his hands resting on her skin, all his urgency gone. A ripple of desire went through her and she forced herself to smile at Sophie and pay attention to her chatter.

“Her real name’s Charlotte but she told me to call her
Charlie
but her mum doesn’t like it. She hates her name. She says she’s going to change it when she grows up.”

Alice raised her eyebrows.

“She’s mad, she is. She’s always cheeking the teachers and last week one teacher found some –” she stopped for a moment and then said – “
cigarettes
in her bag.”

“She’s a bad influence.” Frankie threw the comment backwards. “I think Mum should stop you seeing her.”

“You wish!” Sophie said, a look of disdain on her face. “She’s my best friend.”

“Take no notice,” Alice said, rubbing Sophie’s arm. “He doesn’t mean it. You should see some of the friends he hangs round with at college!”

“Don’t grass me up!” Frankie said, in mock anger.

“Sometimes,” Sophie whispered, when Frankie had walked a little away from them, “I wish I had a big sister instead of a brother!”

After being persuaded to go on some of the rides with Sophie, Frankie suggested fish and chips. Sophie only wanted chips.

“I’m a vegetarian,” she said to Alice.

“Since when?” Frankie said.

“Since recently. Charlie and me have given up meat. It’s cruel and totally unnecessary. Humans don’t need to eat meat.”

“What about those shoes. Aren’t they leather?”

Sophie looked at her trainers, picking one foot up and then the other.

“Leave poor Sophie alone,” Alice said, poking Frankie in the ribs. “If she wants to give up meat it’s up to her!”

“Next week it’ll be something different,” Frankie sighed, “Depending on what Charlotte wants to do!”

“It’s not
Charlotte
! It’s Charlie!”

They ate their food sitting on the beach wall. The chips were hot and salty and the fish crumbled in Alice’s fingers. Even though it was almost seven there were still families on the sand, digging, making sandcastles, playing football. One couple were sitting on a small towel, their arms round each other, kissing, oblivious to anyone else. The rides seemed far away although the air was full of distant shrieks and echoes of music. Behind it all the sun was slipping down into the sea.

A bleep sounded. Alice put her food down and pulled her mobile out of her bag.

“It’s a text,” she said, pressing the right buttons to show the message on the screen. It was from Jill Newton.

When U R alone ring me asap. Jill

She frowned at the screen. She wanted to return the call immediately but couldn’t. A feeling of alarm made her sit up straight. From beside her she could hear Sophie whispering,
Who’s it from?
And Frankie, playing along, his answer in a hushed voice,
Maybe it’s her other boyfriend.

She composed herself. It’s nothing, she thought. Some last-minute detail about the interview with the reporter. If it was anything really important Rosie would have rung. She put the mobile carelessly back in her bag as if it wasn’t important, just some tedious communication that she had received. She turned, picked up her chips and popped one in her mouth.

“Just Rosie,” she mumbled. “Checking that you’re looking after me.”

Frankie rolled his eyes but Sophie looked serious.

“She’s nice! I liked her,” she said, giving her brother a sideways swipe.

They got the bus back soon after, Alice sitting beside Frankie this time and Sophie in the seat in front, her body turned to them. They played a game. Each had to say a girl’s name that began with the last letter of the previous name.

Anne, Emily, Yvonne, Ethel, Lorraine, Elizabeth, Harriet, Tina, Amanda, Amy, Yvette, Ellen, Nell, Lily. . .

When they got off the bus Sophie was stuck.

“Y is so hard!” she said, grumbling.

“Give up?” Frankie said.

She shook her head.

Alice walked on, reaching the front door before them. When Frankie caught up he put his arm round her.

“You OK?” he said.

“Fine. Do you think your mum would mind if I had a soak in the bath? I’ve got a bit of a headache. Probably too much time in the sun!”

“Course,” he said, a knowing expression on his face.

“There’s only two names. Yvonne and Yvette! It’s not fair!” Sophie said.

“Give up?” Frankie said.

Alice dashed up the stairs, leaving them behind. In her room she picked up her towel and toiletries and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She clicked on the small radio that sat on the shelf above the sink. Classical music started to play. She put the plug in the bath and turned the hot tap on, slowly, so that the water was no more than a trickle. Then she sat on the floor and rang Jill Newton. The call was picked up immediately.

“Alice,” Jill said.

“Is Rosie all right?” Alice said.

“Yes, yes, she’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with her, but. . .”

Alice sat very still. Behind her the water was barely dribbling into the bath.

“Alice, I’m so sorry but I’ve got bad news.”

The music was soft, just the notes of a piano tinkling above the running water.

“There’s been a leak at Sara Wright’s office. She’s terribly upset. It seems that someone she trusted had access to some of her papers and decided to sell them to one of the tabloids. They’ve been sacked of course, but. . . The thing is, they’re going to publish tomorrow!”

“It’s going to be in the papers?” Alice said, pushing her thumbnail into her teeth.

“We’ve been trying all afternoon to get an injunction but the judge was unsympathetic. The fact that we were prepared to deal with one newspaper means that we have somehow waived our right to privacy. At least that’s what the judge said. We are appealing to another judge and we might still stop it but I must tell you, Alice, there’s a very real chance that your story and your photograph will be in the newspapers tomorrow morning.”

She looked at her watch. It was almost nine o’clock. In nine hours everyone would know who she was. Everyone.

“I want you to pack your stuff because Rosie’s on her way to pick you up. She should be there by about ten, ten-thirty. The best place for you is at home. I’ll be there tomorrow morning and we can see just how bad the newspaper article is. Then we can decide what strategy to take.”

She rang off and Alice was left thinking about the word
strategy
. As if it was a battle of some kind and they had to work out their next move. She let her mobile slip on to the floor and then, crossing her arms, she hugged herself tightly as though she was in a kind of straitjacket. The moment had come. They had thought they could get away with it, but they were wrong. Now people would know about her and what she had done. Her throat was hard and dry and she had to suck air into her mouth so that she could breathe. Behind her she could hear the water still running. Somehow she had to get herself up off the floor and get her things packed so that she would be ready when Rosie came.

Instead of rushing out, though, she took her clothes off and stepped into the bath. The water was scalding hot but she sank down into it anyway. She washed herself from head to foot, busily, with purpose, as if it was the most important thing in the world. When she finished she closed her eyes and lay flat down, submerging her head, rinsing her hair. Sitting up, she inhaled the steam and heard the piano still playing on the tiny radio. A knock on the door sounded and she tensed. If only she could stay there, in that room, alone.

“Yes?” she said, surprised at the strength of her own voice.

“Alice, I didn’t give up!”

Sophie’s voice came through the door, loud and gleeful.

“I thought of one. Yolanda. That’s a girl’s name, isn’t it? Frankie says it’s not but it is, isn’t it? When you come out you’ll tell him that I’ve won?”

“Sure,” she said.

That wasn’t all she had to tell him.