Final Cut(96)

I’ve said it out loud. Bryan doesn’t know there are two people inside me, two frightened teenagers battling it out.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say.

It’s Daisy’s voice that answers. No, she says. You didn’t come here to say sorry. You came to accept your punishment at last. So accept it.

I look down at the gun in my hand. She’s right. I killed Sadie and never paid the price. I’m not here to win. I’m not even here to apologise. I’m here to accept responsibility.

I’m almost tempted to toss him the gun, to let him finish it. But I don’t. After what he did? My eyes fall closed. He reduced me to nothing, then made me kill my friend. It’s not my fault. Letting him win will solve nothing. And there’s Ellie to think about, and Kat, and who knows how many others.

I raise the gun, but it’s too late. He’s on his feet, he’s grabbed the barrel. I grip as hard as I can, but he’s too strong; one hard shove and I stagger back. The weapon is his.

He grins. The same twisted grin I remember from all that time ago. I sink to my knees and bow my head, glad that, if this is the end, then at least I know who I am.

‘Finish it,’ I say, and for once – and when I least want to be – I’m totally in my body. I can feel the rough ground under my feet and knees. I can taste the dust in the air, smell the mould oozing from the walls. I can hear Monica’s ragged breathing, like something that’s dying.

I close my eyes, waiting for my judgement, waiting for death.

‘No,’ he says softly. ‘Get up. This time you’re going to jump. This time you’re going to do it for real.’





55


The sky has clouded, the waves pummel the cliff beneath me. I look back towards Blackwood Bay, to The Ship, the slipway, the gentle arc of the coast as it curves towards Crag Head, but there’s no one around. No one who can help me. Everything is as it was ten years ago. Everything is as I remember it.

I step towards the edge. It should be night, by rights, the dead sky scarred with stars. Fifteen steps, maybe twenty. I go forward, Bryan behind me. In one hand he’s carrying a metal poker he found in David’s living room after binding Monica’s hands and feet and securing her to the cellar steps, and in the other the flare gun. But they’re for protection only. I know what he means to do. A walk to the edge and then I jump, or, if I refuse, he pushes me. Either way, I go down. It will look like an accident, another suicide. He tells the world he saw me fall; he was powerless to stop me.

I understand, finally, now it’s too late. I jumped ten years ago because I was trying to escape from Blackwood Bay, and I called myself Sadie because I was trying to escape from myself. I wanted to pretend she wasn’t dead, because that meant I didn’t kill her and I’m not a murderer. I’m not a monster.

But then the fugue happened. The phone call to Dev, who called me by the only name he’d ever heard me use. And from that moment on I believed it was true. Except Daisy never really went away. Not when I got my qualifications, not when I was back on the streets making Black Winter. She was just hiding, feeding her guilt, waiting. And then, after ten years, I made a mistake. I came back, and brought her with me.

I should’ve stayed away for ever. But how was I to know?

I look down. At least I saw my mother. At least I saw Geraldine one last time, and I realise now that she recognised me, too. Dimly, and despite how much I’ve changed, she knew who I was. Everything she said makes sense.

And David. My friend. He could see who I was, too. He was trying to warn me.

I’m at the edge. I had my eyes open, last time I jumped. I remember now. I look up. I wish I could see Betelgeuse one last time. The dead star. But it’s enough to know it’s there.

‘Stop,’ says Bryan. He points down to my feet. ‘See those stones? Fill your pockets.’

There are rocks here. They’re heavy; they’ll weigh me down. This time, he wants to be sure I die. Be certain it looks like suicide.

I bend down and lift the first rock. It’s slick with rainwater and nearly slips through my fingers.

‘In your pocket.’

I do as he says. The scar on my arm itches. Removing it didn’t help. How could it? I’m Daisy, whether I like it or not; I did what I did, and I’ll have to pay.

But now? Like this?

‘How about Monica?’ I say. ‘Gavin? Even if I die, you’ll never cover it up. Unless you kill them.’

He smiles, a cruel, warped smile. ‘Oh, don’t you worry about them. Monica will realise how much trouble she’d be in and come back to me. And as for Gavin …’

He leaves the sentence hanging. I wonder what he’ll do. Burn down Bluff House with him inside? It wouldn’t surprise me. After all, he had poor Ellie driven to the middle of the moors and left to find her own way back, just to scare her into silence. He forced David to take an overdose to keep him quiet. I know what he’s capable of.

‘Who’s been helping you?’ I say. ‘Is everyone involved?’

‘Not everyone,’ he says with a callous shrug. ‘But enough. It’s amazing what people will do once you’ve got a film of them with a pretty little thing like Zoe.’

‘Zoe,’ I say. ‘Is she … ?’

‘What? Dead? No. She got away. No one’s seen hide nor hair of that one, for good or bad. I don’t think she’ll be coming back, though. She was clever.’