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‘People will wonder where we both are,’ I say.
‘Sorry, I just needed to be on my own for a moment.’
‘I know. Me too. It’s OK.’
We start to walk back towards the car park, and my eyes are drawn to the magpie that landed on the forest floor just ahead of us a few moments ago. It doesn’t fly away, or even look remotely distracted from its task, and it’s only when we get closer that I can see what it is doing. The living magpie is pecking at the flesh of a dead one. Despite my line of work, the sight still turns my stomach a little. Anna sees it too and I can’t help wondering whether, given her superstitious beliefs, this sighting still counts as two for joy.
Her
Wednesday 09:00
I can’t get the image out of my mind. The sight of one magpie eating the other. I keep thinking about Jack saying I resemble my mother, too. I can’t see it myself, but even if I do look like her, we are not the same. It might be true that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, but sometimes the apple can roll down a hill, far, far away from where it landed.
Being in this corner of the woods always makes me think of Rachel.
I didn’t think anything could spoil the happy feeling inside my chest, after she kissed me in the school toilets. She was the champagne of friends, and I was sure no other friendship would ever be as good. We were both smiling all day, until Mr Richardson – our disgusting English teacher – asked to see both Rachel and me in his office. We were pulled out of gym class and made to go there wearing just our hockey kit.
I was called in first. I sat on the very edge of the chair opposite his desk, and when he told me that I’d been caught cheating, and that he was going to have to write to my mother about it, I started to cry. I fear my tears gave away my guilt, long before my words had a chance to defend me.
He said that Rachel and I had both handed in exactly the same essay. One of us had clearly copied the other, and unless he could determine who was in the wrong, he had no choice but to punish us both. His right hand was hidden below the desk, as though he were scratching something, and I could tell from the twisted smile on his face that he was enjoying watching me cry. I still couldn’t stop – the thought of my mother finding out what I had done was killing me.
Eventually he said I could go, and told me to send Rachel in. She knew from my tear-stained face that it must be bad. I wanted to warn her – so that at least she would know what to expect – and whispered in her ear as we passed one another.
‘Helen tricked us. She wrote the same essay twice.’
To my surprise, Rachel was still a picture of calm.
‘Try not to worry,’ she whispered back. ‘I promise everything will be OK. Go wait for me in our secret place, I’ll come find you.’
It was dark and cold in the woods, especially when wearing nothing except a T-shirt and hockey skirt. The long socks did little to keep me warm. It seemed like a ridiculous thing to say – Rachel telling me not to worry, when it felt like the whole world was about to end – but I reminded myself that she did have a habit of always getting what she wanted, regardless of the odds. Ten minutes later, she appeared in the clearing with a big smile on her face.
‘Don’t suppose you’ve got a mint or some chewing gum?’ she asked.
I shook my head.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll get some later. Need to brush my teeth too.’
‘Why?’
‘Never mind,’ she said, then hugged me. ‘Everything is OK again, you don’t need to worry. We’ll both get A grades for those essays we just handed in, even though we didn’t write them, and our parents won’t know a thing about it. Given you just got an A, I’m hoping your mum might let you have that birthday party next weekend after all.’
I tried to pull away, so I could see her face, but she held on tighter.
‘I don’t understand. How did you get Mr Richardson to change his mind?’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ she whispered, then slid her free hand up my hockey skirt.
Her fingers pushed my knickers to one side, while her other arm continued to hold me close. When my knees started to shake, she let me lie down on the forest floor, and, as usual, I let her do whatever she wanted.
‘Feel better?’ she asked afterwards.
She stood without waiting for an answer, dusted the dirt off her hands and knees, then pulled me up from the bed of dead leaves I had been lying on.
‘I need to have a word with Helen before she goes home today, so we should head back to the changing rooms,’ Rachel said. ‘Do you have any chewing gum in your bag when we get there?’
‘Do you want one?’ says Jack, offering me a cigarette.
I am rudely torn from the memory of the day Helen Wang pissed off Rachel Hopkins and lived to regret it. Remembering the things we used to do makes me blush.
‘I’ll pass, thanks. Smoking is not my addiction of choice, as you know.’
My drinking is something we never talked about. Jack understood why I started and why I can’t stop; crutches come in all shapes and sizes. The new expression on his face looks a lot like pity. I don’t want it, so I give it back.
‘I’m sorry all this horror is happening on your doorstep. I’m sure this isn’t what you expected when you ran away to the country.’
‘I didn’t run away, I was pushed.’
This is a road neither of us wants to go down again, so I take an alternative route.
‘I’m guessing I’m not going to be able to use my car any time soon?’ I ask.
‘Afraid not. Do you need a lift somewhere?’
‘No, it’s OK. I already texted Richard.’
He shakes his head. ‘After everything I told you about him?’
‘Whatever he did in the past, I’m sure he had his reasons.’
‘Call me old-fashioned, but a conviction for GBH is cause for concern in my book. You said you thought someone might have been in your room last night. Wasn’t he staying at The White Hart too?’
‘You know he was. It isn’t like there’s more than one hotel around here, but it wasn’t him.’
‘What made you think there was anyone there at all?’
I hesitate, still a little unsure how much I should say.
‘You’re going to think I’m crazy if I tell you…’
‘I already know you’re crazy. We were married for ten years, remember?’
We both smile and I decide to try and trust him, like I always used to.
‘I had an old picture of me and some of the girls from school. I found it at Mum’s and I was looking at it in my hotel room last night, because of what had happened to Rachel.’
He stares at me for a long time, as though waiting for me to say more.
‘And?’
I shake my head, still a little worried about how this is going to sound.
‘It was a picture of a group of us.’
‘OK…’
‘I left the bedroom, just for a few minutes, and when I came back there was a black cross drawn over Rachel’s face.’
He frowns and doesn’t say anything for a while.
‘Can I see it?’
‘No. It was in my bag, the one that got stolen from the car.’
