Final Cut(26)

‘Who knows?’ I say. ‘She just said, “They killed her.” ’

‘They?’

‘She didn’t remember anything else. She seemed doubtful about the note, too. And she told me someone saw Daisy jump but she doesn’t believe it and didn’t say who.’ I stare out of the window.

‘It’d still be good to know who said they saw her,’ he says. ‘Want me to do some digging? See what I can find out?’

‘Why would you do that?’

He shrugs. ‘Dunno. I’d like to make myself useful.’

I smile. My instinct is to say no, but maybe I could do with some help. He’s got to know the people here, he knows who to ask.

‘Okay, then.’ I pause. ‘She says David up at Bluff House had nothing to do with it.’

‘What made you think he did?’

‘Just something Sophie from the tattoo shop said. She thought Zoe might’ve known David. Would her parents talk to me, d’you think?’

‘Zoe’s?’ He shakes his head. ‘I doubt it. To be honest, I’d steer clear. From what I’ve heard, they don’t like people reminding them about what happened.’

‘As if they could forget.’

‘You know what I mean.’ He hesitates. ‘Did you know about Sadie Davies?’

My breath catches, just for a moment. I don’t think he notices.

‘Daisy’s friend?’

‘Yes. She disappeared just before Daisy killed herself.’

No, I think. He’s got the chronology wrong. I can remember it. Daisy went first. I can see myself back then, though it’s like a dream. I’m sitting on the floor in a strange room; there’s a mattress on the floor with no sheets and a weird smell. I have my legs crossed, my arms folded over them. I’m crying, because Daisy’s gone and I couldn’t help her.

He coughs. ‘Did Sadie know David, too?’

I stare down at my hands. They’re turning over and over, each stroking the other as if they have a will of their own. I force them to be still.

‘No,’ I say. That’s one thing I’m sure of.

I gaze up at the cloudless, star-studded sky as it turns from blue to black. A pinprick of light flies over, too fast to be an aeroplane. A meteor, I suppose, a shooting star. I remember London. I used to lie there at night, in a doorway, near a vent if I could find one, and look up at the sky. Looking for the stars. Usually, it was cloudy down there, there was too much pollution, too much light, but even knowing the stars were there made me feel better. It made me feel less hungry somehow, less hopeless. Less alone.

‘Maybe Zoe’s got nothing to do with the other two,’ he says. ‘She wasn’t the kind of girl to run away, it seems. Whereas both Sadie and Daisy—’

‘What? Were?’

‘There were rumours that Daisy, in particular, was a, well …’ He shifts uncomfortably then takes a deep breath, like someone about to plunge in the knife. ‘She was promiscuous.’

‘What?’ I can’t help but laugh, though I’m grateful he at least found it difficult to say. ‘She was fifteen, for fuck’s sake!’

He seems to shrink. ‘Don’t judge me. I’m just telling you what people have said.’

‘Who? Who said that?’

‘Oh, you know.’ He shifts again in his seat. ‘People.’

I say nothing. I let it go. I have to. I remember one of the women I filmed for Black Winter saying that social services had told her she was a slut, that she’d asked for it. She was thirteen.

But I don’t want that argument now. Not with my new friend.

My mind trips on the word. Is that what he is?

‘Have you been watching the clips?’

‘Some of them, yeah.’

‘You see the one of the two girls eating chips?’

‘Kat and Ellie. Yes.’

‘And? It was a joint, wasn’t it? Sophie says all the kids do it.’

He laughs. ‘That’s why I do the film club.’

I hesitate. He seems honest, at least about that, but I’m still not sure how much to trust him, whether I can let him in. I don’t want to sound like a crazy person, a conspiracy theorist desperate to inject interest into their film, but still I go on.

‘Geraldine said something else,’ I tell him. ‘Whatever happened, she doesn’t think it’s over.’





Then





15


Alex’s diary, 29 June, 2011

I’m on my own. I can’t trust anyone, I know that after what happened today.

I feel sick just thinking about it now, but I’ll try to write it down like it happened. So, we were supposed to go up to Deal – maybe it would trigger my memory and I’d know what I was doing up there. Aidan suggested it, and Dr Olsen said it was up to me but that I should definitely take a friend and tell her when I was going to go. I didn’t, though. I mean, what was she going to do? Come with me?

We cobbled together what money we had and got the bus to the coach station. On the way, Aidan was telling me about how he just wants to meet someone and be looked after, and he asked me what I wanted to do. It seems crazy now, after today, but I realised I haven’t really thought about the future because I’ve been so obsessed with the past, trying to work out what happened to me, back in Blackwood Bay, and here in London, what made me run.