13 Minutes (18 page)

Sorry got caught up with something,
she texted Hannah.
Lost track of time. Need loo!

See u there.

Of course she would. Becca sighed internally. There was never an
ok see you later can’t be arsed to move
with Hannah. Hannah was
always
there for her.

*

There was only one cubicle occupied in the girls’ toilets and in the quiet Becca heard a snort coming from inside it, something being sucked up into a nostril, followed by two or three short sniffs. Then the door opened. It was Jenny. As she recoiled slightly, her hand flew instinctively to wipe her face, but not before Becca saw the flash of white powder.

‘What?’ She glared at Becca, twitching and defensive. ‘What are you staring at?’

‘There’s still powder around your nose.’ Becca didn’t know what else to say. She was stunned. A cigarette out the back of the school was one thing, but snorting coke or whatever else at lunchtime was a whole different world.

‘What the actual fuck, Jenny?’ she blurted out. ‘I mean, what is that shit?’

‘Oh, fuck off,’ Jenny said, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. ‘What the fuck do you know about anything? You don’t understand.’

‘What don’t I understand?’

Jenny hiccoughed then, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. ‘The joke is even if I told you, you still wouldn’t understand.’

Becca’s heart raced, her pulse thumping in her ears. Was this it? Was this Jenny almost confessing? She thought of Lady Macbeth in their Year Ten English Literature play, driven to madness by guilt. Was Jenny getting high in an attempt to keep it together?

‘Try me.’

‘Yeah, right. Because you’re my friend, aren’t you? I see the way you look at me. Like I’m trash.’ She pushed past Becca to get to the sink. ‘You worry about your own shit, Bex. I don’t know what your game is, but I don’t need your pity.’

The door opened behind them and Hannah bustled in, clutching a thick ring-binder to her flat chest, a flustered flurry of normality.

‘Hey, there you are,’ she said. ‘God, I am so not up for Geography next. I’m sure he’s trying to bore us to death. Why is everything so much harder at A Level? Looking forward to the rehearsal later, though. I’ve had a few ideas about the set, wanted to run them by you—’ She stopped her rushed speaking and her eyes darted from Becca to Jenny and back again. Prey not hunter. ‘Everything okay?’

‘We’re good,’ Becca said, voice hard.

Hannah looked at Jenny. ‘You sure, Jen? You look upset.’

‘I’m fine,’ Jenny said, either regaining some control or whatever she’d snorted in the toilet was kicking in and giving her confidence. She smiled at Hannah. ‘Thanks.’

‘All right, as long as you’re okay.’

Becca wondered why Hannah was even the slighted bit concerned. When had the Barbies ever been on her radar? They lived in different worlds and Hannah was just a bug under their shoes. Surely she must know that?

Jenny nodded. ‘Yeah, it’s nothing. See you at rehearsals.’ She pushed past Becca as if she wasn’t there, and then she was gone.

‘What was all that about?’ Hannah asked.

‘I don’t know. She was like that when I came in.’

‘Well, you could have been nicer to her. Poor thing.’

‘What do you mean,
poor thing
?’ The idea that Hannah, a damp dishrag of a girl, could feel sorry for someone as glorious as Jenny was beyond Becca’s comprehension. And Jenny would be mortified if she knew. Becca thought she might add it to her arsenal in case she needed it. It would make Jenny crumple. Jenny who might have done something to hurt Tasha, who might even have tried to kill her, being pitied by Hannah Alderton.

‘I just feel a bit sorry for her, that’s all,’ Hannah said. ‘She’s had a shitty time of it. Her dad wasn’t very nice at all, from what my mum says.’

‘What would your mum know about it?’

‘She used to work at the doctor’s surgery down by the Gleberow Estate. She’d see them coming in. Jenny and her mum. Before Jenny’s dad ran off. She heard stories from the doctors.’

‘Like what?’ Becca was intrigued.

‘Like the sort of thing I promised never to repeat.’

‘Not even to me? Oh, come on.’ Hannah was so middle-aged. Who kept stuff like that secret? They were best friends, weren’t they? She felt a stab of shame at that thought. Becca hadn’t been acting much like a best friend recently and Hannah was many things, but she wasn’t dumb. She knew.

‘Even to you. She really shouldn’t have told me in the first place.’ Hannah locked herself in a cubicle, ending the conversation. ‘But enough to know that Jenny’s turned out pretty well, all things considered.’

‘Suit yourself,’ Becca muttered, irritated.

‘And if you must know, she’s the nicest of the lot of them as far as I’m concerned. She seems quite kind to me. Gentle, underneath it all.’

Becca wondered how much time Hannah had spent studying Jenny. Had she been aching with envy and creating this little fantasy about who the soft beauty really was? What a load of bullshit. She’d expected more of Hannah.

‘What were you doing at lunch, anyway?’ Hannah asked as they emerged for the afternoon’s lessons.

‘Oh, nothing, really,’ Becca said, keeping her eyes on the scuffed lino of the school corridor. ‘I got trapped talking to Tasha and couldn’t get away. She bought me a Starbucks and there was a queue, so it took longer to get back to school than I expected.’ She tried not to think about how easily the lie came.
What was I doing at lunchtime? Oh, just the usual. You know, trying to figure out if a couple of girls nearly killed their friend the other week. Same old.

‘I figured it must be something like that,’ Hannah said, quietly. ‘You two are getting pretty matey again. I still think you should be wary of her. She can be mean. I was in Year One with her. Even then, she was a bully. Let me tell you what happened with the class ham—’

‘What are you, my bodyguard?’ Becca snapped, cutting her off. ‘And maybe she’s just growing up. She’s not been mean to me recently. She bought me an expensive chess set as a thank you for visiting her. What am I supposed to do? Ignore her?’ She realised how defensive she sounded and tried to rein it in. ‘Anyway, I wouldn’t put it quite like that –
matey
. She’s just being normal. Does it matter?’

‘No,’ Hannah said, her chin lifting defiantly. ‘I suppose it doesn’t.’ They reached the fork in their journeys. ‘I’ll see you at rehearsals,’ she finished, and without even looking at Becca, she strode away. For a moment, Becca felt stung –
who was Hannah to get shitty with her?
– and then remembered how many times she’d wished Hannah would grow a backbone. She couldn’t have it both ways. Hannah was a bit protective, that was all, and Becca had bitten her head off for it.
And you lied
, she added.
You lied to your friend for a girl who dumped you on your arse.
She turned back around to call after her, but Hannah had caught up with a girl Becca didn’t recognise and they were already heads together and talking. She watched as Hannah laughed at something the girl said. That stung, too. Maybe Hannah did have some other friends after all. Becca wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that.

Stop being such a bitch
, she told herself as she headed to Theatre Tech. Y
ou’re in danger of becoming like the Barbies.
The Barbies. Whatever the fuck they were.

Twenty-Eight

14.10

Hayley

Why did you fuck off like that? Leave me there?

14.11

Jenny

Felt sick. Tasha’s remembering!!! Saw Becca in the bathroom. She’s a bitch. I bet she knows!:-(

14.12

Hayley

Don’t think so. She’d

have said something???

Don’t know what Tasha remembers anyway.

If anything. Didn’t say

much when alone.

Just looked at me funny.

14.12

Jenny

She said we’d had a fight! She remembers that! I want to be sick. Feel like I can’t breathe.

14.13

Hayley

Don’t think she really remembers. She’d say.

14.13

Jenny

How do u know? U always think u know everything.

14.13

Hayley

I don’t! Just trying

to be calm.

14.14

Jenny

Seriously thinking of running away. Never stopping.

14.15

Hayley

You’ve got no money.

You think he’d give you money??? You don’t want to go.

14.15

Jenny

I can’t think straight.

14.16

Hayley

That’s cos you’re never straight! (;-)) Maybe I’ll be nicer to Becca? Used to be friends. See if I can figure out if she knows whatever Tasha knows? Don’t get why they’re so friendly again.

14.16

Jenny

She’s gonna remember everything soon:-((

14.16

Hayley

She doesn’t yet. Time to figure something out.

14.16

Jenny

I just want to get off my face. Forget all about it.

14.17

Hayley

:-((

14.17

Jenny

Sorry I’m snappy. Don’t mean it. Just scared.

14.17

Hayley

I know. Xx BFF. Ha! ;-)

14.18

Jenny

BFF ;-) now delete. (Beat ya!)

Twenty-Nine

TAKEN FROM
DI CAITLIN BENNETT’S FILES:

EXTRACT FROM NATASHA HOWLAND’S NOTEBOOK

As it turned out, we didn’t do much reading at the rehearsal. Mr Jones told us it’s a character play at heart. These people were real. John Proctor died because he couldn’t give up his reputation. He couldn’t confess to something he hadn’t done to save himself because of what his name meant to him.

I think John Proctor should have thought about that before he stuck his dick into a teenage servant girl.

Mr Jones paced up and down as he spoke and all the other girls were rapt, mouths half-open – subconsciously ready for his cock or something (god, I’m getting cruder since I died), gazing at him like he was some Hollywood heart-throb. Even the boys were hooked. Mr Jones has what they want. All that confidence. That
ease
. The play is sexually charged and the room was humming with it. Sometimes I think schools are filled with more sexual tension than any other place. Even I feel it sometimes. Like there in the theatre.

Mr Jones gave us group exercises to do, and of course I was to lead my dancing girls. The girls Abigail Williams takes out into the woods to cast a spell on poor Elizabeth Proctor. As we started to mull over how to improvise what they did, I wondered at the irony of it all and wanted to say,
Oh, the subtext!
to Jenny as she came over, as nervous and mousy as her character Mary Warren, hands twitching by her sides and her eyes downcast even though we weren’t acting yet, but I doubt Jenny knows what subtext is. I thought of that clearing in the woods – our clearing. The cigarette butts. The Crunchie wrapper. While I chatted to Maisie and Ella (Ruth Putnam and Mercy Lewis – both
gushing
at me and Jenny as if by getting these parts they were almost Barbies themselves), I bet Jenny was thinking about it, too. Her eyes were red-rimmed. Tears? Lack of sleep? Drugs? Knowing Jenny – and I know Jenny – it’s probably drugs, but maybe it was all three. Maybe I dream of the darkness and she dreams of the woods.

I looked around for Hayley –
count thirteen slim panels of wood on the wall as my eyes go by
– she’s over on the other side of the room working with James Ensor. They had to improvise the unwritten scene of Elizabeth discovering Proctor’s affair with Abigail –
moi
. She looked up as if she could feel me staring at her, although I wondered if she’d been glancing my way often, and gave me a hesitant smile. Just for shits and giggles, I didn’t return it. She paled. Even from so far away I could see it.

They’re
my
Barbies. I’m in control. Still.

Becca was at a table out of the way, sketching plans on a large sheet of paper. Hannah wasn’t with her. She was in the back somewhere sorting through the costume cupboard and taking stock of the staging and panels. I heard her telling Becca that’s what she was going to do, anyway. I wondered if they’d argued. Hannah was trying to be tough but I know hurt feelings when I see them.