Roadkill (LiveWire) (15 page)

I look at him. We are practically nose to nose. I can feel his gentle breath warm on my cheek. “Yes. It’s still very bad. Thanks for the info from the article by the way.”

“Did it help?”

“Kind of…I thought I found a way to make it better but...Can I tell you something?”

Fixing my gaze on a ragged black bird floating far above on the torn clouds, I tell him about my LiveWire dares.

“You did what?”

I’m shocked by his reaction. Guess I expected him to be interested, sympathetic, maybe even a little bit admiring. Or not.

“Caz, you could have been killed. These are hardcore idiots! You aren’t going to do any more are you?”

I wasn’t but now I’m annoyed, “I might. I gave myself a month to see if I could find out who what really happened that night, and there’s still a week left.” Stubbornly I kick a hole in the sand, unearthing a foul cache of cigarette butts.

Matt looks angry, and worried, “I think you like it. The whole dare thing.”

“Maybe.”

“Caz you don’t have to be like Rose. People like you for you. I like you. Not some crazy girl who has to get her kicks from jumping in front of cars.”

Unforgivable. I wish I’d never told him about the chicken theory. We stare at each other, all glittery eyed and breathing fast. Thunder grumbles on the horizon.

“Look a lot about Rose was great okay, but she liked to keep you as her little sidekick. You never got a chance to be yourself.”

A few walkers and a smattering of dogs are spread over the dusty grass. The clouds still promise rain, and I haul my jumper over my battered elbows, snatch up my bag and make my exit. I don’t look back.

Behind me his voice fades on the rising wind, “Caz, wait. I’m sorry! CAZ!”

Ignoring him I snatch my phone up and flick through the messages.

‘sorry about the other day. Mum not been well, been worried. All ok now. Wanna come ova later?’

I hesitate, brushing tears from my eyes. For the first time in ages I struggle to cross the bridge, and The Road is loud and insistent, threatening my sanity.

‘had a fight with m. see u @ 7?’

‘ok – I’ll get your fave pizza!’

By the time I get to the front door, I’ve calmed down a bit, and chuck my bag in the hallway, thinking hard.

“Are you alright?” Mum is reading in the kitchen.

“Can everyone stop asking me if I’m alright? I AM FINE!” I stamp upstairs like the sulky child I can’t afford to be. Choices to be made, boyfriends to be lost, and at the moment I don’t want to cope with any of it. Throwing of my clothes I pull on my favourite slobby PJs and retreat under the duvet, annoyance increasing as I hear Garry asking a question and mum answering.

“…think she’s just had a row with that boyfriend…”

I didn’t even know she knew I had a boyfriend. Does she send Garry to spy on me or something? Jeez. Despite the fact it’s still afternoon, I sleep, Rose watching closely from the wall. Her picture seems different today, less animated, more like…well like a photograph.

*

Leo’s place is as familiar to me as my own house, occasionally I wonder if it’s odd that we became so close so quick, but I feel so comfortable around him. Or I did, now I’m starting to wonder.

“Hey you. I got your favourite ham and pineapple, and a tub of Ben and Jerry’s. Wanna do Wii first or the DVD?”

With a slight effort I curl up on the fawn corduroy sofa, snuggling into the six cushions, three white and three chocolate. Leo always says his mum is a total neat freak. His mum.

“Oh I dunno. Maybe the DVD, I’m a bit tired I guess. Leo is your mum working again? What was wrong with her?”

He looks surprised, I never ask about his mum. Maybe it’s true, I only ever think about myself. Rain is slamming against the windows, a proper summer storm.

“Yeah, she just had this bug. She’s okay now though; starts at seven at the moment, finishes at eight. She always says she loves it but you know I’m not so sure. As soon as I get my results I’m gonna make sure I get right into Imperial, and get a first, and then become a zillionaire!”

I am surprised, “I thought you were coming to uni with me? Or Australia? Come on Leo, you’re worse than me at deciding stuff!”

He looks a bit disconcerted, fiddling with a lose thread on his shirt, “I just don’t know Caz. It’s like too much decision to make on something that’s gonna come back and get you for the rest of your life, if you get it wrong.” Leo looks up suddenly and grins, “Sorry, too deep! As long as I make sacks of money I don’t really care what I do. Can you still go prospecting and dig for gold in Australia?”

In spite of a nagging feeling that something is, well, off kilter, I laugh. This is familiar ground for us. “Well maybe it’s the same for your mum; she likes the money. I mean your flat is fab, all this great stuff, new television….” I trail off as Leo studies me warily. Since when did he get so moody? “Sorry I was just feeling jealous I guess, you and your mum have it sussed and my bedroom still has pink Barbie curtains!”

“It’s retro,” he tells me, uncoiling from the sofa to check the oven, clattering the shelves as he slides the pizzas in. “You’ll be okay. Maybe you’ll be a famous artist and have pots of money, a Ferrari, and give those dumb interviews to papers that say you would be happy living in a cardboard box on the street as long as you could paint,” he pauses, now savagely chopping tomatoes for a salad. Leo is so domesticated. “I hate it when they do that. I want to just yell at them that of course they wouldn’t, everyone wants money and power right?”

He is poised behind the counter, gesticulating with his knife.

“Right!” To cover my unease I reach for the remote and set the DVD going. It’s a soppy rom-com, the type we both normally enjoy.

“Damn!” The kissing bit seems to be going on forever and is it my imagination or did Leo’s hand just graze my shoulder. I can’t stand it any longer, and accidentally on purpose spill a bit of ice cream on my top.

“Don’t worry, you can borrow a T-shirt. Hold on a sec.” He freezes the film.

“It’s ok, just tell me where it is and I’ll get it,” I jump off the sofa.

“It's alright I’ll get it!” Leo is edgy suddenly and there is so much undercurrent of emotion we’re both a bit stressy.

I move towards his room anyway, shocked when he all but shoves me aside. I haven’t been in Leo’s bedroom for ages. It’s plain, expensive looking, with a chic double bed, and soft lighting like a hotel room. Not like I imagine a normal teenage boy’s, all smelly with foo
tball socks stuffed under bed…

“Leo, what’s wrong? Did you forget to clean up your room or something?” I am always taking the piss out of his neat streak, saying he’s more of a girl than I am.

“No sorry, it’s fine. There was something I wanted to show you, but then you seemed so weird tonight I’m not sure….” He gives me a long measured stare, and I feel jittery again.

Chapter Seventeen

“Sorry. I guess I’m just upset about Matt. And LiveWire. I was so convinced she had to be doing a dare when it happened. But all this investigation stuff…. it’s not working. Nobody knows anything about Rose.” I improvise, partly telling the truth of course, but something is stopping me from asking him about Lia. And Alexander Havers.

His harsh expression softens, “Well I did say at the beginning it might be nothing, and LiveWire isn’t designed to kill people, just make them do stupid things.” This is said with authority.

“Mmm. It’s pretty addictive though.”

He smiles proudly, like a mother cooing over her new baby, I suddenly think. “It’s cool isn’t it, all those kids jumping off cliffs, and getting buried in boxes, because someone tells them it’s cool? Plus you get such a rush when you do a dare don’t you? And you won some stuff; I’m so proud of you Caz.” He beams happily, chattering away while my stomach does a nasty flip.

“Erm, yeah.” I am staring at him, but quickly snap back to my shirt, spattered with ice-cream.

“On it Caz!” Leo disappears into his bedroom, while I try and work out exactly what it is that has rattled me. My best friend said he hadn’t been on LiveWire for weeks, and I am fairly sure I did not tell him I was doing undercover dares as Rose-Farlan. Make that I am one hundred percent sure I didn’t tell him…..

“Look, isn’t it beautiful!” Leo returns carrying a blue BENCH T-Shirt, and a porcelain figure.

Although I don’t want to, I know it will make him suspicious if I go to the bathroom and change, so I casually turn my back and dip quickly into his top, scrunching my dirty shirt into my bag. The statue is standing on the mantel piece. It’s about ten inches tall, a girl with long curling red hair, a pretty pert face, and she is carrying an artist’s easel, the other hand daintily raising her skirt to step over some blue flowers. It’s pretty if you like that kind of thing, which I don’t, but I can appreciate the artist’s talent, the delicate moulding of the flowers, the life-like movement in her hair. What really catches my eye is the little plaque underneath the figure. In squirly, old fashioned plate it says ‘CAROLINE’.

Leo is close at my shoulder, too close. “It’s you isn’t it?” he says softly, smiling at the little statue.

“Is it Lladro? It’s…it’s beautifully done.” Normally I would have added that it’s also old ladyish, and kind of kitsch, but something in his eyes stops me. They are shining with, well if it wasn’t so stupid, love.

“It was my mum’s. She loved it too.”

Too late I clock the ‘was’ and he’s off at a tangent. “Perhaps I…”

Something is wrong and I can bear it no longer, I don’t know my best friend, I can’t trust him and I am stubbornly refusing to process the fact that something is wrong.

“You know what Leo I need to go! I need to talk to my mum and Garry, and tell them I want to go with them to Australia. Because you know, it’s the perfect solution, and you can come and stay unless you’re busy with your fab uni course…” I’m gabbling, and make myself lean in for our usual peck on the cheek.

As I let myself out he is staring right at me, not saying anything, just appraising me with one of those long cool looks.

“I was wondering Caz, if you fancy camping next weekend? Up near Higham Nature Reserve maybe?”

My fingers are hooked in the door, poised to go, but I make myself smile, “Yeah. Um, why not? I don’t know about next weekend though, perhaps in two weeks?”

He studies me, and then nods without smiling, dismissing me.

Hurtling down the stairs I find I am shaking, mainly at the thought of being alone with my best friend in the middle of nowhere for a weekend. Higham Nature Reserve overlooks the disused cement works where Rose did her first dare. It’s very pretty in a boring loads
-of-flowers-and-
birds type of place, and I really can’t imagine why anyone would want to spend time in a tent high above a quarry. It’s a relief to escape into the streaming rain, and I pound the roads, not caring I’m getting soaked…

“Mum have you ever heard of Alexander Havers?” I shrug out of my wet shirt and grab a clean top, and a towel from the ironing basket. Thank god I’ve got short hair now and it dries quickly.

She turns from the kitchen counter, then turns right back as her stupid shaped-like-an-egg timer beeps. Something in the oven bubbles ominously.

“I don’t know love. Is it someone famous?”

“Not really no. It’s this website I’m checking out.”

“Why don’t you ask Garry? Actually I’m sure he mentioned the name now I come to think of it…..” she frowns.

“Really?” my heart is thumping.

“Yes, he was working on that new project for Ikon Industries, and they were so pleased, it even got published! Or why don’t you ask Leo?” She is proud, and I wonder with a pang if she talked this way about Dad. I’m sure she did because my mum is like that, boasting about Rose’s modelling, sports medals, and even once, me when I won a regional art competition. The only person she never boasts about is herself…

“Why would I ask Leo?” My voice is harsh, the words coming too quickly.

“You just said it was to do with a website, and that boy is never far from his computer. Have you two had a fight?” she stirs carefully, peering anxiously into the mixing bowl until the batter turns creamy smooth.

I ignore this, grab an energy bar from the cupboard and take up residence with my laptop on the dining room table.

“Mum?” I am carefully casual, “Did you get Gary to take a look at Rose’s computer after, um… after it happened?”

Her eyes are wide with shock, and her mouth has tightened into that forced smile. But I have to know.

“Yes I did. I wanted to be sure the police didn’t miss anything,” Mum sighs suddenly, tension draining away, “How did you know?”

“I saw him.”

We study each other carefully, and luckily at that moment dependable Garry arrives, bumbling through the doorway, loaded with a bunch of red freesias for mum and a tub of Ben and Jerry’s for me. In spite of my aversion to him I am impressed he took the trouble to get something for me as well. I hear their mumbled conversation, her exclamation of pleasure at the flowers.