Undone(86)

He grabs me by the shoulders and screams in my face, ‘I’m going to f*cking kill you!’ The fact that I show no fear seems to make him even angrier. And I’m genuinely curious to see what he’s going to do next, but Lucas is trying to pull him away, shouting at him to calm down, take it easy.

Too many things are happening at once. Stu is shaking me, screaming obscenities. Lucas is behind Stu, arms wrapped around his torso, trying to get him under control. But Stu’s stronger than him, even though he’s smaller.

Sasha is crying and crying and shouting at everyone to calm down. Then she makes a mistake and tries to get between me and Stu. What is she thinking? If Lucas can’t do anything, there’s no way she can. But she does. She does something – and I’m pretty sure she elbows him in that exact spot on his ribs, because he cries out in pain and he pushes her.

The push was pure instinct. He was under threat and in pain, so he lashed out. That’s all it was. But the way he catches her on the shoulder spins her round and away from us.

And she trips over something. A tree root, perhaps.

She’s falling. And there’s nothing anyone can do.

She’s falling and I open my mouth to say something or scream something, but I don’t know what.

She’s falling.

Face first into the fire.





chapter fifty-two


I was supposed to make a big speech about what they did to Kai. I was supposed to have my moment with all of them looking at me, aghast at my audacious plan. They were supposed to feel guilty and ashamed. I was supposed to humiliate Lucas in front of his friends, tell him I was only going out with him to get my revenge. Tell him I could never love someone like him. He was supposed to be crushed.

I had it all worked out in my head. I’d thought about it for months. The party in the woods seemed like the perfect opportunity. Even the fact that it was so close to where he died seemed right, in a way. Like it was meant to be, almost.

I’d pictured it time and time again. Bugs realizing he’d been given a taste of his own medicine. The look on Stu’s face when he found out the truth. Breaking Lucas’s heart. I’d never truly believed that would be possible – I was just going to go for dumping him in front of everyone, calling him a lousy shag. But the way Lucas had been looking at me had changed recently; it had softened somehow. Still, him saying he loved me was almost too good to be true. And the timing couldn’t have been better. Like I said: meant to be.

This was not meant to be.

Burning hair and blistering flesh and screaming. So much screaming. Mine and hers, different in tone yet merging together in a hellish chorus. I will never forget the sound of her screams for the rest of my life. It will haunt me forever, just as it should.

When I was nine Gran baked a cake for my birthday. She baked one for me every year, but this is the one I remember best. It was chocolate, with more layers than I’d ever seen on a cake. Shavings of chocolate were heaped on top (Dairy Milk, I was pretty sure, since I’d sneaked a taste before the party). Nine candles, evenly spaced.

There were lots of kids at the party, but Kai’s the only one who’s clear in my memory. The others are blank faces. Except for Louise. She was there too.

I knelt on a chair, hovering over the cake while everyone sang ‘Happy Birthday’ (Kai sang extra loud, of course). They did the whole hip-hip-hooray thing, and then it was time for me to blow out the candles. I took a deep breath and blew as hard as I could, getting six of them in one go. I leaned over the cake to get the two on the far side, and as I did so, the candle nearest me caught my hair. The air filled with that unmistakable smell, I yelped, and Mum grabbed a napkin to extinguish the flame. It was no big drama, really. A few singed strands of hair. But I never forgot that smell.

The smell of Sasha’s hair burning is lodged at the back of my throat; I can almost taste it. I suppose I should be relieved that it’s strong enough to obliterate the memory of the smell of burning flesh.

She’s still in A&E. Apparently they’re arranging transport to a special burns unit in Liverpool. That’s all I know. Lucas told me. He wouldn’t look at me, but he came and told me at least. He’s in the family waiting room with Sasha’s parents. I saw Mr and Mrs Evans arrive. He was in a dinner jacket and bow tie, she was wearing a beautiful midnight-blue dress. I think Sasha had said they were going to some charity benefit. They do that kind of thing a lot apparently. Tears were streaming down Sasha’s mum’s face; her make-up was a mess. Her dad looked pale and tense. They didn’t notice me lurking at the end of the corridor. I took one look and went through a set of double doors in search of somewhere to wait far away from the others.

She could die. Sasha could die and it would be my fault. Other people might blame Stu for pushing her, but we know the truth.

If she doesn’t die, she might wish she had.

I called home, told Mum what had happened. I wasn’t even crying. Mum asked me a lot of questions that I couldn’t answer; then she started to cry. She said they’d be at the hospital in ten minutes and I had to beg her not to come. She couldn’t understand why, but I begged and begged until she agreed to give me a few hours at least. She didn’t say anything about the fact that we’d been partying in the woods instead of at Lucas’s house like I’d told her. I was grateful for that.

I can’t stop thinking about her face. Her perfect face.