The Stepmother(105)

 

God I feel tired.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

At the school I know it will raise suspicion if I hover round the gates.

 

Think, Marlena, think. But my brain is like sludge today.

 

There’s a sweet shop at the end of the road. I go to buy cigarettes and a Coke when two teen girls, in high-tops and baggy jeans, walk in arm in arm, bags full of schoolbooks.

 

‘I like your trainers,’ I say to one. ‘Dead nice.’

 

‘Thanks.’ She looks surprised, and her prettier mate with tightly cornrowed hair giggles.

 

‘I’ve got some a bit like that. Where are yours from?’

 

‘Er, they’re Huaraches I think.’ The tall white girl picks up a blue Bounty. ‘Nikes.’

 

‘Cool. Do you go to St Bett’s? You must know Scarlett King?’

 

‘Oh her.’ They go all serious and big eyed now. ‘Yeah, we kind of know her. We’re in the sixth form. She’s below us.’

 

‘Poor kid,’ I say. ‘She’s nice, isn’t she? She’s a family friend actually…’

 

‘Oh yeah, I think so. She’s not been in school much since – the thing…’ Cornrows whispers theatrically. ‘It’s deep, what’s happened.’

 

‘God, no, I know. Awful. I saw her mum yesterday.’ I’m not lying, I tell myself. Much.

 

‘Her mum? She’s gorgeous, isn’t she? She was an actress, wasn’t she? She was in The Bill, my dad says.’

 

‘Yeah, gorgeous.’ Together we walk out of the shop, and I glance at my phone very obviously.

 

‘Oh damn it! Bloody battery. Can I ask you a favour?’

 

‘Yeah, course.’ They are excited to be conspirators.

 

‘Can you get Scarlett a message? I was meant to see her later…’ My fingers are crossed behind my back. I swore I’d never lie again, but this isn’t work. This is f*cking life or death. ‘But my mobile’s gone flat. Could you give her my number? I’ll go and charge it in the park café while I wait. Tell her Marlena will be here? Jeanie’s sister?’

 

‘Well…’

 

‘I’m just so worried about her.’ I do my best motherly face. ‘Poor darling. I don’t want her to think I’ve forgotten her.’

 

‘Yeah, course,’ the shorter one says, pulling her sleeves down over her hands. ‘Give us your number then.’

 

‘Awesome.’ I put it in her phone. ‘And could you tell her I’ll be in the café for a bit?’

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

I’m sitting in the park café, scrolling through Safari to find out where the local news agency is when my phone – not flat at all of course – rings. Unknown, it says.

 

I’m terrified it’s going to be Frankie or the hospital – but it’s neither.

 

‘Is this Jeanie’s sister?’ the accented voice says.

 

‘Yeah, this is Marlena.’ My ears prick up. ‘Who’s this?’

 

‘It’s Yassine, Kaye’s… boyfriend.’ He hesitates over the word in his strange accent. ‘I’m so sorry.’

 

‘About what?’

 

‘She does not know I’m ringing you.’ He sounds stressed. ‘I had an argument with her about it, you see. It is not a good thing—’

 

‘What isn’t?’ I’m starting to feel irritated. Spit it out, man.

 

‘I told a lie. I’m sorry I didn’t say I was there when I was.’

 

‘What? When?’ I rack my brains. ‘Do you mean at Malum House that day?’

 

‘Yeah, when I took the football boots round. But then she told me to say that I didn’t…’

 

The missing boots. ‘Who told you to say that? Scarlett?’

 

‘No.’ He drops his voice. ‘Kaye.’

 

‘Kaye did? Why?’

 

‘I don’t know.’ Yassine sounds thoroughly miserable. ‘She just said not to say I was there; I shouldn’t have been there she said.’

 

‘Why?’

 

But he won’t give me any more.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

So why would Kaye make her boyfriend lie?

 

What the hell’s going on with these bloody Kings?