Blood Sisters(58)

‘I’m not going to move your friends,’ continued the voice. ‘I don’t want to make their injuries worse. Just sit tight now. Help will be here fast.’

My teeth were chattering so much that my words came out as a stammer. ‘Sh-Sh-She’s m-my … s-sister. The other one … sh-sh-she’s my sister’s f-f-f-riend.’

The woman had a granny-type face. I would have liked grandparents.

‘Who should we contact, dear?’

‘I c-can’t remember … any numbers.’

‘Never mind. The police will sort it out when they arrive.’

‘We’re going to be late for school,’ I blurted out. ‘Kitty and Vanessa are p-p-laying in the concert. I’m due to collect … collect a prize.’

The granny face was sitting next to me now on the pavement, holding my hand. Mopping my face with a handkerchief. ‘It’s all right, dear. Honestly.’

Then the voice changed. ‘Look at that. The driver’s getting out of the car. Goodness. It’s a schoolboy.’

Crispin’s screams were wrenching the air. ‘My mother,’ he was yelling. ‘My mother!’

And just at that moment, a siren began to wail in the distance.





46


May 2017


Alison


My heart thuds in my throat. My mind flails madly. I’ve found, since starting here, that men sometimes draw their crimes. ‘Does this picture have a particular significance for you?’ I ask, barely able to get the words out.

‘Significance!’ He snatches the drawing and brandishes it before my eyes. ‘So I was right! You really don’t recognize me, do you?’

‘What are you talking about?’

He grabs my hand and makes my fingers trace his scars. They are slightly bumpy. The touch of his skin makes me feel sick. ‘It’s me. Crispin. Crispin Wright. The cool kid, they used to call me.’ He says the last bit with an irony that twists his entire face.

‘B-But your n-name …’ I stutter.

‘Think I could use Crispin in a place like this? After the attack, they let me use my middle name instead. Just as well my surname is fairly common. There was a double-barrelled geezer in a pad next to me. Didn’t last five minutes, poor bloke. Meant I got a longer sentence, but it was worth it.’

He sniffed, wiping his hand across his nose. His manners had clearly altered as well. ‘Had to change the way I spoke, too. When you’re in prison, you can’t afford to stand out.’ He touches his scars with an index finger as if carefully stroking them. I wonder whether he realizes the irony. ‘It’s one of the reasons they did this to me. Posh brat, they said.’

His face is now very close to mine. I can smell his stale breath. ‘Schoolgirl killer. They didn’t like that either. There’s honour amongst thieves, you know. Drug dealing is cool. But mowing down a kid – that’s different. And it’s all your fault.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh, I think you do.’

I’m really scared now. His clenched hands are moving towards me as though he’s going to hit me. I step back. To my relief, he stays where he is.

‘I’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time,’ he spits. ‘Even so, I had to look twice when I turned up at that first class. Changed a bit, haven’t you? Nice new nose. Different surname, too. Looks like I wasn’t the only one who’d altered this. And those long sleeves you wear to hide your scars? I’ve seen them ride up every now and then. Self-harming. That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?’

He whistles. ‘Sign of guilt. I had a cellmate like that. Anyway, when I realized you didn’t recognize me, I had to make myself wait a bit. Get you onside. Play teacher’s pet.’

I want to say this can’t be true. None of it. But I can see glimpses of the old Crispin now behind those scars. That arrogance. The way he seemed to know exactly what I wanted. Still insecure teenage Ali, desperate for approval.

‘I’m glad your sister’s found a husband.’

A flash of fear passes through me. ‘How do you know that?’

He ignores the question. ‘Does that mean she’s all right now?’

‘She’ll never get better,’ I hiss, ‘after what you did.’

‘Ah, but I had some help, didn’t I? Besides, this is my punishment. Being here.’ He shakes his head. ‘The question is, Alison, what kind of punishment will you get when your time comes?’

Suddenly I feel very, very angry. If this is Crispin, it should be me who is furious with him; not the other way round. ‘You raped me,’ I hiss. ‘You deserve to be in prison.’

He moves towards me again. ‘Raped? Hah! You wanted it.’

A cold shiver goes through me as I remember my feelings when I first saw Lead Man. How he’d stirred longings inside me I’d had only once before. Something I didn’t want to think about.

It’s true. I had felt something for Crispin, for a moment. But I had said no.

‘I did you a favour,’ he continues. ‘No one else wanted you. Apart from that little creep of a friend of yours. What was his name now? Robin Hood. That’s right.’