Final Cut(47)

And if she does, if I can remember who hurt Daisy and why I ran, then maybe I’ll know who Liz is scared of, and what’s going on with Kat and Ellie.

‘How will we find her?’

‘There’s a way. Someone will know. Or we can look online.’

Of course. I’m running out of excuses. And maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible.

But then I think about her seeing me. Seeing through to who I really am. The life I’ve constructed for myself would fall apart.

‘Gavin?’ I say, and he looks over. For a moment he looks as though he’ll do anything for me. It’s as if by each sharing a secret we’ve moved into different territory, come together at the grey line that divides the light on the moon, night from day.

‘Yes?’ he says.

‘Will you be the one who talks to her?’





Then





26


Alex’s diary, Wednesday, 6 July 2011

I’ve found her! It’s not all good news, but at least I’m getting somewhere!

I’ve been going back to Victoria every day for a week. I haven’t been telling Aidan. I know he’ll disapprove. I’ve found a café on the other side of the road, almost opposite. It’s really posh, it sells fancy sausages and ham and organic lemonades (whatever that is!) and stuff, but it has seats in the window so I sit there with a coffee and watch the door that leads to the flats. Sometimes I film it on my phone. The woman who runs the café is okay, yesterday she gave me a sandwich and said it was on the house.

Anyway, today I finally saw the girl I recognised. She was coming from the other direction with a guy, wearing the same clothes from that first day, although I think I’d have recognised her anyway. Today I even thought I knew her name – Daisy – though it turns out I was wrong. I wonder if that’s the name of someone from before?

When I caught up with her I thought she was going to run again, but I asked her not to. The man she was with said ‘Sadie?’ and he sounded really surprised to see me.

‘Please,’ I said to them. ‘I need to talk to you.’

At first I didn’t think they would, but then the girl said I should wait, they’d be ten minutes. Then they went upstairs.

The girl came down by herself. ‘C’mon,’ she said, and we went back towards the coach station to a car park above a row of shops. ‘In here,’ she said.

It stank really badly in there, and there was pee everywhere, but we climbed the stairs to the first floor and found a spot near a big silver Volvo.

‘You’re back,’ she said, just like that. I felt excited, but scared, too.

‘What’s your name?’

She didn’t answer, just lit a cigarette. I had to ask her again.

‘Alice.’

Alice. I wondered if that’s the reason I chose Alex as my name, when I needed to tell Dr Olsen something. She gave me a cigarette and asked where I’d been. I told her as much as I could.

‘That was you?’ she said. It turns out I was on the news, in the papers. MYSTERY GIRL FOUND ON DEAL BEACH. I really hope no one back home in London saw it, though I still didn’t know why.

Then Alice said something weird. She said I shouldn’t be there, that I’d promised not to come back to Victoria, especially not back to the squat. When I asked why, she just said, ‘You’re in danger, girl.’

I asked why, but she wouldn’t say, so I asked if I’d done drugs at the squat. She just laughed, like it was obvious. She said she didn’t, but her friend, Dev, did.

Dev. The name rang a bell. She said it was the guy she’d been with. ‘He’s using again,’ she said, like I’d be really disappointed.

Anyway, she said we’d met at Waterloo. I’d been living on the streets since I arrived in London, and I’d had my bag stolen so I had no money or anything. I wouldn’t tell her what had happened to me, though I said something had, something pretty bad. She said she’d got the sense someone had died. A suicide, but I’d said no, it was worse than that, but that I’d never tell anyone.

She’d managed to persuade me to go and stay in the squat. She said it’d taken ages, and when I asked why she said she didn’t know, but it was almost like I was scared of Dev.

But that’s all I know. We arranged to meet again, and she says she’ll tell me the rest then. I got the sense it was bad. It was the reason I disappeared to Deal. It was the reason she ran when she first saw me. I’m scared, but I’m glad I went, I’m glad I met Alice. The more I see of my old life, the more I seem to remember.





Now





27


The house is down a dirt track off the main road. I must’ve been here thousands of times, but I feel only a faint resonance. There’s a sign that reads Concealed Entrance which I don’t remember, the driveway has been newly gravelled and the house itself, standing alone as it does, seems somehow much smaller. I suppose it would’ve been the farmhouse once, back when there was a working farm here, though that thought never occurred to me when I lived here. We had four bedrooms, and it looks as though my mother has converted one of the outhouses into a fifth. At least that’s what I assume she’s done with it; I can’t think what other use she’d have for it – no need for a granny flat, or a home office – though it seems unlikely that she’d need all those beds, either.