Authors: Gina Blaxill
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #General
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I’ll be OK.’
Ollie laced up his trainers, grabbed a coat and we went to the door together. While I’d never thought twice about walking through this estate before, suddenly I wasn’t so confident.
I was half hoping he would walk me to the main street, but over the last five minutes he’d become anxious, constantly checking his phone.
‘Talk tomorrow,’ he said, brushing my cheek with his lips. ‘This’ll get sorted, Im, promise. Sam’s the one who has it coming.’
I didn’t want Sam to get hurt. I just wanted out of this mess. However I thought it better to say nothing about that. Not to Ollie anyway.
SUNDAY 17 NOVEMBER
I was sitting in the park-cum-green-cum-whatever it was again when I picked up Imogen’s voicemail. It felt weirdly intimate to hear her voice coming out of my phone, even
if she did sound pissed off. Given what had happened, I guessed she had every right to be.
How had I got everything so wrong? I’d thought things would be easier with me gone. But then, I’d only really been thinking about me, hadn’t I? Not other people. I’d
never imagined they’d start on Imogen. Why on earth had she even been targeted?
There was one thing I was sure of. There was no way I could leave Imogen on her own to deal with trouble that was meant for me. I couldn’t ignore the fact that what she was going through
was my fault.
I dialled her number.
She picked up instantly.
‘About time.’
I could hear chatter in the background, the high-pitched scream of a child, a whirring. ‘Where are you?’
‘You’re the one who should be answering that question, Sam.’ Her voice sounded cold. ‘If you
really
need to know, I’m in a park and I’m alone. And if
you give me a good enough reason, I won’t instantly run to your stepmum and tell her where you are.’
I sort of hated that she’d read me so well and sort of liked her for it too. ‘I never meant for you to get into trouble. honest. Are you all right, Imogen? They haven’t really
hurt you, have they?’
‘Depends on your definition of hurt. I’ve been chased, threatened, pushed against a wall and punched in the stomach. Aside from that I’m feeling great.’
She spoke so breezily that it was hard for me to take it in. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ I said, stunned. How could so much change in just a day? ‘I . . . Imogen,
I’m so sorry. I had no idea you’d get targeted! If I’d have known, I’d never have—’
‘Save that for later,’ she said curtly. She lowered her voice. ‘What the hell is going on?’
‘I’ll tell you everything,’ I said, still reeling from the news. ‘But not over the phone. I’m not convinced it’s safe. Could you . . . I mean, if it’s
not too much bother, could you meet me where I am?’
‘Which I assume isn’t Walthamstow. Scared of coming back?’
‘They tried to kill me! You’d be frightened too!’
‘Who says I’m not?’
There was a pause.
‘I’ve been staying with Harrison,’ I said. ‘We grew up next door to each other. I guess he’s the closest thing I have to an older brother. Anyway, he’s at uni
in Essex. Colchester. If you come up, I’ll meet you. Then we can talk.’
‘Colchester’s miles away. I don’t have cash for train fares.’
That was one thing I didn’t understand about people in Walthamstow; they seemed to think even other areas of London were halfway across the country. Apparently some kids had never been out
of Waltham Forest borough. It shocked me that people who were so sorted in some ways could be so unsorted in others.
‘I’ll pay you back for your ticket. Please, Imogen.’
Imogen sighed. For a moment I thought she was going to lash out.
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘A trip to Colchester. Perfect way to spend Sunday afternoon. How long does it take?’
‘About an hour once you’re on the train. Please, don’t tell anyone about this.’
‘Whatever, Sam. I’ll come now.’
‘Stay safe, OK?’
‘Can’t promise you that,’ Imogen said wryly, and ended the call. I groaned. Of all the stupid things to say! But she was coming, and part of me was glad that I’d finally
be able to share this hell.
SUNDAY 17 NOVEMBER
Immediately after speaking to Sam I rang Ollie. He didn’t pick up. I couldn’t wait so I went straight to the nearest tube station. In under forty-five minutes I was
on an overground train heading out to Colchester. Ten minutes into the journey, Ollie called back.
‘I know where he is,’ I said, not bothering to say hi. ‘No way!’ Ollie’s voice was breaking up a little; was it my imagination or did it sound a little uneven?
‘So where’s he hiding out?’
I told him, adding, ‘We’re meeting at Colchester station.’ ‘When – now? Isn’t that out of London somewhere?’ ‘Yeah, Essex, and yeah, now. I was
going to ask you to come with me when I rang. I’ll be there in about forty.’
Ollie’s voice cut out entirely. I frowned, removing my phone from my ear to see if the call had died. Then I heard Ollie muttering and quickly put it back. ‘You OK, Ollie? You sound
frazzled.’
‘I’m fine. Don’t stress. Good luck, Im, OK?’ ‘Thanks. Nice to know you care,’ I said. It was only half a joke. Ollie had been part of my life for months, but
I’d never really trusted him with something this important before. At least bad stuff, crap though it was to deal with, taught you who your friends really were.
SUNDAY 17 NOVEMBER
I looked up a taxi number on my phone – the university campus was too far from Colchester to walk, and the buses were infrequent on Sundays. As I waited for it to arrive
I felt nervous. I’d told Imogen that I’d tell her everything, and I really wanted to do just that. I was so sick of keeping it to myself. But that would involve letting out the part of
this I was sure would tear her up. She’d been hurt enough already. Things would have been so much easier if I’d been able to get it out that night at the chicken shop and now I
wouldn’t have this horrible dilemma.
My taxi arrived and took me to the station. I got myself a coffee from the shop on the platform and sat in the waiting room, drinking it slowly.
I was on my second by the time the London train drew in. I saw Imogen get out and felt a deep sense of dread. She looked less well turned out than she did at sixth form, all layered up and
without any make-up. I immediately noticed that she was wearing her old glasses, the ones she’d had when I’d first joined the school. She wasn’t smiling. Not that I’d
expected her to be pleased to see me.
She opened the glass door. It creaked and swung shut behind her. She sat next to me on the wooden bench, folding her arms.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘Where do you want to start?’
SUNDAY 17 NOVEMBER
Sam rubbed the side of his nose, looking at me wearily. He was bundled up in a heavy coat and scarf. He still had stitches in his chin. Raw-looking scabs had formed around the
cut. It wasn’t a pretty sight.
‘I could try the start,’ he said.
‘Hello, Captain Obvious!’ I met his eyes. ‘No fibs or dodging questions, OK?’
Sam sighed. ‘I guess you’ve figured by now that I was there the night that guy in the shop got attacked. Hamdi, not that I knew his name then. I didn’t intend on being there.
We were only in the area because Mia wanted to eat out.’
‘She’s your cousin, right?’
He nodded. ‘Little cousin, though she looks older. Before we go on, was it you IMing her yesterday?’
I nodded. Outside there was a rumble as another train drew in. It felt peculiar to be having this conversation somewhere so public. ‘Did I freak her out?’
‘A little. Were you on my computer?’
I explained about house-sitting and waited for Sam to carry on.
‘I don’t really like Walthamstow,’ he said. ‘I hate all those takeaway chicken joints. You know they use cheap meat and pump it full of water and fat to make it look
good? It’s gross. The American Diner’s all right though, so that’s where we went.’
The diner opposite the Guls’ shop. It would have been packed on a Saturday night. ‘Mia said you told her to get a table while you went into the shop.’
‘I only wanted to break a note and get some change for the jukebox. I went in and looked for something cheap to buy. I was at the opposite end to the till when I heard shouting and three
guys ran in. They had hoodies and scarves on – I couldn’t see much of them.’ He swallowed, and I felt sorry for him despite myself. ‘They had knives and I was so absolutely
freaked out you would not believe. They started threatening Hamdi, telling him to hand over the cash.’
‘What did you do?’
Sam didn’t answer. I leaned forward.
‘Sam. What did you do?’
‘What do you think?’ Sam yelled, so loudly that I drew back. ‘I hid in the photo booth at the back of the shop. And I did
nothing
!’
Now I understood why he’d been so reluctant to open up. ‘You mean you didn’t try to get help?’ I said. ‘That shop has a back door. You could have slipped out and
raised the alarm. Or phoned the police. Or helped him.’
Sam covered his face with his hands. ‘Believe me, it feels like I killed him, and no, that isn’t melodramatic, because I could have made a difference. There must have been a minute,
maybe two, before they really laid into him, and I stayed hiding, only thinking about protecting myself! I hate that I did it, but I did and there’s no getting away from it. And yes, I saw
everything.’
The words came out muffled, but the regret in his voice was clear. I didn’t know how to react. Yeah, part of me was disgusted. Hamdi might still be alive if Sam had done something.
But part of me felt awful for him. What shitty luck to have been in the shop. And who could tell how they’d react in a life-and-death situation? What would I have done? I
liked
to
think I’d’ve raised the alarm. But I might have frozen too. I’d turned to putty when those guys laid into me, and I’d screamed at the police when I saw Nadina on the
stretcher. I hadn’t reacted to either of those situations in the way I’d’ve thought.
Can’t judge Sam for this, I told myself. I can’t like him for it, but I can’t be unfair.
‘Look,’ I said, ‘a lot less of us would have played hero than you think.’
Sam lowered his palms from his face. ‘It shows what I’m made of, that’s for sure,’ he said in a small voice. ‘I wish I could go back and change it, but I’m
not Doctor Who.’
‘They saw you. Right?’
‘Yes, when I finally got it together enough to run. When they got violent with Hamdi I was terrified they’d realize I was there and turn on me. It was really lucky that the high road
was busy, else they’d have chased after me. I dragged Mia out of the diner and we ran. I think she got away with it. They probably only saw her from behind.’
I wondered how they’d worked out who Sam was. There must be any number of kids fitting his description in the local area. ‘So this is why they tried to run you down.’
‘I’m a witness and this is a murder. That’s a pretty good motive, isn’t it?’
‘Sure, but . . .’ I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose, frowning. ‘It’s pretty damn drastic, Sam. Didn’t they try threatening you first? “Keep your
mouth shut else we’ll beat you up” kind of thing. Come to that, how did they even work out who you were?’
‘Guess they must’ve got a good look at me, even though I thought they hadn’t. As for threatening me, that wasn’t much of an option.’ Sam’s voice shook. I
sensed we were getting to the crux of it all. ‘You see, I wasn’t just an eyewitness. I did manage to get it together in one sense . . .’
I snapped my fingers. ‘You videoed the attack on your phone!’
He nodded, patting his pocket. ‘The phone’s here. Proper evidence. I mean, it’s not great quality, but it shows most of the attack. The drawback is, they know I filmed
them.’
‘Does the video show who they are? Is there CCTV to back it up?’
‘From what I’ve heard, the CCTV was down and they were waiting for someone to come and fix it. And with the video . . . sort of yes and no.’
‘Can I see it?’
From outside I heard an announcement that the next train from London was due. I couldn’t believe we’d been sat in this freezing waiting room for well over an hour. The rest of the
world seemed a long way away. I held out my hand for Sam’s mobile – then stopped. I’d realized something.
‘They wanted
my
phone. Those guys – the ones who hit me. For some reason they think
I
was there too. Or that you shared the video with me. Or something.’
‘I haven’t shared it with anyone,’ Sam said – then stopped, looking dumbstruck. ‘Oh. Imo, they must have thought Mia was you.’
I shut my eyes, remembering the photo I’d seen in Sam’s room. ‘That explains a lot. You weren’t around to threaten so they turned on me. That night outside the chicken
shop would have backed up their belief that we’re mates. Bloody hell! In some twisted way it’s almost funny.’
‘Hilarious.’ Sam sounded wretched.
I frowned. ‘What?’
‘We’re probably right about the mistaken identity and I’m really sorry about that. But there’s one other thing I need to say . . .’
This must be what Sam had come to tell me at the chicken shop. The thing he’d lied about when I’d gone to his house and been sidetracked by hearing about Benno being bullied.
‘Go on,’ I said.
Sam took out his phone and held it towards me. His hands were white and shaking. I heard a rumble as a train rolled in.
‘This is how the gang knew who I was,’ he said very quietly as a video loaded on-screen. And then my mobile buzzed. Annoyed, I took it out, pressing the button to cut the call.
‘The screen said Ollie,’ Sam snapped. ‘Why is he calling?’
‘Because he’s my boyfriend.’
‘Yes, but –’ Sam jumped up, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the door. I was so surprised that I didn’t resist.
‘What the hell?’
‘We’ve got to get out!’ Sam shouted. Confused and disorientated, I found myself on the platform. People were heading towards the exit. Everything was normal.
‘I don’t understand . . .’ I started to say – and then at the furthest end of the platform, I caught sight of someone very familiar. Ollie! He must have come here to find
me. Then I saw that he wasn’t alone. He had two guys with him. Two guys I recognized. Two guys that made me freeze.