Then She Was Gone(59)

Ellie felt a huge wash of anger pulse through her, and then crash to the pit of her stomach when she thought of the implications. No one had seen her walk down Stroud Green Road with Noelle Donnelly. No one was following any Noelle Donnelly-related leads. Everyone was flailing around with nonsense theories because they had nothing else to go on. ‘But …’ she began. ‘But that’s not true! I was enjoying my exams. I wasn’t stressed about them at all!’

‘I know, love, I know. I know what a tremendous student you are. But clearly other people don’t know you as well as I know you.’

‘Who said it? Who said I was stressed?’

‘Well, it was your mother. I think. Yes. It was your mother.’

Ellie felt a wail of fury and injustice and grief building inside the walls of her chest. How could her mother think she’d run away? Her own mother? Her mother who knew her better, loved her better than anyone? How could she just have given up on her like this?

‘Don’t give it too much thought, dear girl. Just you focus on these two.’ She gestured at the hamster cage. ‘Dear little Trudy and Amy. They’ll take your mind off it all, I guarantee you.’

Noelle left then, on the hunt for the shower attachment, and the room fell silent as her footsteps receded up the stairs. A moment later the silence was broken by the metallic, round-and-round creak of the wheel turning in the hamsters’ cage. Ellie threw herself on to her bed and clamped her hands over her ears.





Thirty-nine


Well, obviously I had to plan it a little bit. There were certain things I had to think of in advance. I cleared that room for a start. Had to make sure it was safe for her: no sharp objects, that kind of thing. And I bought in some nice juice for her because I knew what sort of family they were, I knew they were all organic this and that, I knew she’d expect something nice or she’d probably just take a sip and then leave the rest. Just like your Sara-Jade. Generation Fussy. So I bought in the nice elderflower stuff for her. Then of course there was the drugs; that was easy-peasy. I’ve been prescribed the sleeping stuff before, I just needed to show up at the GP’s looking dreadful and waffle on about insomnia. Thank you very much, Dr Khan.

So, you know, there was planning involved. But honestly, when I look back on it, I can’t quite believe I did it, can’t quite believe what I was capable of. Especially the violence. Oh my goodness, the violence! I throttled that poor girl, stood with my hands to her throat and squeezed and squeezed. I mean, she might have died!

But on the whole, as the time passed by, I think we rubbed along together OK, me and Ellie, once she realised that we were a team, once she knew that I did not want to hurt her, that she was safe with me.

And giving her those animals was a masterstroke, I think. Oh my word, how she loved those animals. They gave her a purpose. Something to focus on. She was lovely with them, maternal and caring, just as I’d known she would be. It warmed my heart to watch her. What were they called now, those first ones? I can’t remember. But it turned out they weren’t a pair of girls after all. No, they were not. So many came afterwards, so many that it was impossible to keep track of them all. She knew their names, though. Even when there were cages full of them. She knew each and every one by name. She was amazing like that. Is it any wonder I was obsessed with her? Is it any wonder I did what I did?

And yes, clearly I knew what I was doing. Of course there was a bigger picture. Of course there was. I had a truly audacious plan.

And my goodness me if I didn’t go and pull it off.





Forty


Then


The days had lost their structure, their edges, their middles. At first she’d been aware of the passing of time, had distinctly felt the shape of the hours and days moving by. Friday had felt like Friday. Saturday like Saturday. Monday had felt like the day she would be sitting her history and Spanish GCSEs. Tuesday had been the day she should have been taking her first maths paper. The weekend after had come and gone and she’d still had a grip on it. It was next Monday. She’d been here for eleven days. Then twelve days. Then thirteen. It was her sixteenth birthday. She didn’t tell Noelle.

After fourteen days though, she lost count. She asked Noelle, ‘What day is it today?’ And Noelle said, ‘It’s Friday.’

‘What’s the date?’

‘It’s the tenth. I think. Although it might be the ninth. And it might be Thursday. Me and my daft, fuzzy head.’

It all spiralled away from her then, her peg in the map of time was irretrievably lost.

Noelle still brought her gifts. Fruit pastilles. A sugar-topped doughnut. A packet of tiny pencil erasers in the shapes of animals. Lipstick with glitter in it.

She brought her things for the hamsters too. Bags of straw and little toys and chews and biscuits. ‘The babies,’ she called them. ‘How are the babies today?’ Then she’d take one out of its cage and hold it in the cylinder of her hand and stroke its tiny skull with a fingertip and make kissy noises at it and say, ‘Well you are the prettiest little thing I ever did see, you truly are,’ and then sing it a song.

Still, though, Noelle Donnelly would not tell Ellie why she was here or when she would be leaving. Still she’d tantalise and tease and talk about her amazing plan and how everything was going to be just woopitydoo, just you wait and see.