Dead Jealous (11 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Poppy sprinted over the cobbles, ignoring Michael’s calls for her to wait for him. She was going to be late for Mum and Jonathan’s handfasting. She skirted the bank of trees, running full out. Then, just as she reached the bluff where she and Beth had talked, the glint of sunshine reflected off the lake flashed in her eyes, blinding her. It felt like someone had grabbed her ankles. Her feet stopped moving and she toppled over.

Poppy cried out as pain reverberated through her hip and spine.

She pushed herself to a sitting position, brushed the grass and mud from her hands and looked out over the festival ground. Below, people holding multicoloured streamers and flags had gathered, forming a large circle around the wicker man.

There was no air. She couldn’t breathe.

Michael kneeled beside her and grabbed her arm. ‘Are you OK? Is your ankle hurt?’

She shook her head, pushing down the panic. She couldn’t talk. If she did she would scream. It was all too confusing: Beth, Kane, Maya, Jonathan and now Bob?

Michael’s gaze held hers. ‘What’s this about, Poppy? Really? You only met that girl once but you’re acting like she was your best friend in the world.’

Beth’s face flashed before her. ‘That girl?’ The words flooded out of her mouth. ‘She has a name, y’know! Don’t you think she deserves justice?’

‘Of course I do, but that’s not what this is about. Talk to me!’

‘She loved Maya so much that she died trying to find her. And Maya didn’t even love her back. Have you any idea how horrible that is? To love someone who doesn’t love you?’

Michael’s face softened. He let out a sigh. ‘Your dad loves you, Poppy. He didn’t leave because he didn’t love you.’

‘I’m not talking about Dad! I’m talking about—’ She shook her head as tears started to drip down her cheeks. ‘Just forget it.’

Michael was holding both arms now, so tight that it hurt. ‘No. I won’t forget it. You promised that you’d talk to me, and then half an hour later you’re shutting me out again.’

‘I’m not shutting you out!’ It was a flat-out lie, but how could she tell him the truth?

‘You think? You haven’t been the same since the accident. When we’re together you can barely look at me. You’re meant to be my best friend but it feels like you don’t even like me any more. So yeah, Poppy, I have a pretty good idea what it’s like to love someone who doesn’t love you back!’

His face was inches from hers, his blue eyes so full of pain and anger. She hadn’t meant to, but she’d hurt him. Beth was right: her feelings for him were destroying them both. It was madness. It had to stop.

‘I do love you!’ she blurted. ‘Don’t you get it? I’m
in
love with you, OK? Happy now?’

Michael’s hands released her. He let go of her like she’d burnt him.

Oh God, what had she done?

‘I didn’t mean…’ She took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘I meant to say...’ There were no words. No lies to cover up the truth. No excuses. No jokes. Only the realisation that it had finally happened. The secret that had lived inside her for years had finally exploded like a supernova and there was no going back.

She dared a glance at him.

His cheeks had paled and his mouth was open in shock. But it was his silence that damned her. He just stared at her and said…nothing.

She scrambled to her feet. ‘I’ve gotta go – Mum’s thing – can’t…’

She ran.

No footsteps pursued her. He didn’t call for her to stop. Only a lonely silence followed her from the bluff. And the knowledge that she’d screwed up everything. But maybe that was inevitable.

Poppy stumbled through the canvas village, tripping over guy ropes and bags of rubbish as she went. She headed towards the wicker man, trying to ignore all the panicked thoughts that were thrashing around her head.

The circle of people was at least thirty deep and she couldn’t remember where Mum had said to meet her. She tried standing on her tiptoes, but everyone had been sleeping in growbags and she couldn’t see a thing.

Not knowing what else to do, she pushed her way through the crowd, but some people weren’t keen to lose their spot and it was like swimming through concrete. A hand on her back propelled her forward.

‘Scuse us!’ a voice shouted. It was Mo Little Wolf. The woman parted the crowd with a few well-placed glares and pushed Poppy to the front.

Mum and Jonathan were standing in the centre of the circle, holding hands in front of Bob. She darted over to them. She was so breathless that she could barely utter a ‘sorry’.

Mum rolled her eyes, but looked relieved to see her. Jonathan forced a smile onto his face, and in his eyes there was what looked like an apology.

‘Nice of you to join us, our Poppy,’ Bob said, raising laughs from the crowd. ‘Poppy might not be a believer, but she does live on Pagan Mean Time.’ There was more laughter.

‘Anyway, as I was saying,’ Bob continued. ‘Having been joined together for a year and a day, Meg and Jonathan have decided that this handfasting will see them bound together, not for another year, but for all eternity. This is a serious commitment that must only be undertaken by those who have tested their love for one another and believe that they are truly soulmates. Eternity is a long time, but not to those that love.’

Poppy gasped back breath after breath. From the edge of the circle, Kane was watching her. His eyes were sunken. And he looked thinner, almost as if something was eating away at him from the inside. Something, or someone? He thought Maya was haunting him. But if he was so certain Maya was dead, why the heck hadn’t he been to the police? There was only one answer that made any sense. He killed Maya, and if he killed Maya that meant he killed Beth too.

A shuffling of the crowd drew Poppy’s attention. Someone was pushing through the bodies. Only when he reached the edge of the circle did Michael look up. He stared at her and after knowing him just about all her life his face was unreadable to her. A total blank.

‘Meg and Jonathan, do you promise to be there for each other, no matter what the future brings? Do you promise to always tell each other the truth, and practise kindness towards one another? Do you promise to love each other, now and in eternity?’

‘We do,’ Mum and Jonathan said together.

Michael’s gaze fell to the ground. It felt like he’d let go of her hand and she was sinking down to the bottom of the lake. Slowly he turned and excused his way out of the circle. She wanted to cry out for him to stop. She wanted to tell him it had been a joke. Anything that would fix this.

As she lost sight of him, the circle started to spin. The faces and streamers became nothing more than blurs of light and colour. She blinked hard, trying to make it stop, but she couldn’t. In the blur pictures formed: Beth laughing at the sunset, and Maya – her dead double – grinning like she knew; like she knew that Poppy had screwed up everything.

‘And so I bind your hands together, Meg and Jonathan, sealing your destinies for all eternity. May your love for one another bring you, and all whom you love, great joy!’

The crowd cheered. Poppy put her hand to her head as bright lights flashed before her.

‘You may now jump the bride. I mean, the broom!’ Bob’s voice boomed.

There was another cheer and somewhere music started to play.

‘Poppy? Poppy, are you all right?’ Mum was asking.

She took a deep breath and looked into Mum’s face. She looked so filled with happiness that she seemed to glow with it. Poppy forced herself to smile.

‘Oh, Pops, are you crying? And I thought I’d never see the day when you’d cry at a wedding!’

Poppy was dragged into a fierce hug. Mum’s hair tickled her nose; her arm crushed her neck, and yet Poppy felt more alone than she’d ever felt in her life.

When Mum was done hugging her, Jonathan took his turn, whispering to her that he was sorry they had fought, that knew he would never replace Dad, but he’d always be there for her – whatever she needed.

Poppy nodded and congratulated him, and then found herself face to face with Bob.

‘Aww, Pops, come here and give your old uncle Bob a hug.’ He grinned and held out his arms to her.

Poppy swallowed.

‘What’s the matter?’ Bob asked, frowning.

Mo pushed between them, blocking out Bob. ‘She looks kinda pale to me. Think maybe she’s dehydrated after the sweat.’ Mo hooked an arm around her back. ‘Come on, let’s get you a drink.’

Mo waved away a confused Bob, and pushed Poppy through the partying crowds and the outer obstacle course of tents. Poppy realised where they were heading when the sweat lodge came into view, squatting by the lake like an overgrown toad.

She put on the brakes. ‘No! No, I don’t want to go back there!’ she gasped.

‘There’s nothing there that isn’t in here, Kid,’ Mo said, tapping her chest. ‘Like I’d let you sweat again anyway,’ she snorted. ‘Not letting you anywhere near my lodge again until you can handle yourself.’

‘I’m sorry I made such a mess of it.’

Mo’s face creased into a smile. ‘Nothin’ to be sorry for. Not your fault the ancestors are playing games with you. Now come sit on the grass and chew the cud with me. I think there are some things you should maybe tell me.’

They found a spot partly shaded by an old oak tree and Mo went to get a bottle of water from a stash next to the lodge.

‘Drink up,’ she said, handing it to Poppy.

She unscrewed the top and downed several gulps of the cool water. It didn’t make her feel any better. Dehydration wasn’t the real problem. The inability to keep her mouth shut was the problem. Her temporary insanity was the problem.

Mo kneeled down and settled herself opposite her. ‘What happened?’

Poppy shook her head. ‘I wish I’d never come. Wish I’d just gone to Julia’s stupid party and then none of this would have happened.’

‘Julia?’

‘Michael’s girlfriend.’

‘And Michael would be?’

‘My best friend. Or at least he was before I went and told him I was in love with him. What was I thinking?!’ She dumped the bottle of water on the grass. Balled up her fists and pressed them into her eyes before the waterworks could start again.

‘That’s pretty heavy stuff.’

Poppy nodded.

‘What did he say?’

She saw his shocked face. Heard his silence. ‘He didn’t say anything.’

‘How long have you…?’

‘I don’t know.’ And it was the truth. She couldn’t remember when she’d started to love him. Maybe she’d always loved him. ‘What does it matter? He has Julia. I think he’s in love with her. I shouldn’t have told him. I’ve no idea why I did. I just lost it and it was out before I could stop myself.’

‘Like in the lodge?’

‘Yeah – no – I don’t know.’

‘What do you know about the girl you found?’

Poppy couldn’t help the growl that escaped her throat. ‘I don’t believe in ghosts…or ancestors…or whatever. I don’t believe in this stuff, OK?’

‘Just because you don’t believe in something, don’t mean it don’t exist. There were two spirits in that lodge, battling for your attention. Thought I was going to have to kick some serious dead ass. But you went and passed out before I could get things straight. I thought one must be the girl from the lake. Who was the other?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Don’t mess with me, child. You brought those spirits into my lodge and I’m betting you took them out with you. Those spirits are messing with your head. You tell me exactly what shit you’ve got yourself involved in otherwise I’m going straight to Bob, and he can sort you out.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Flames leapt and danced through the torso of the wicker man. Poppy jumped every time the sculpted twigs cracked and sent plumes of black smoke up to the dark grey clouds that hovered in the sky like a constant threat to the celebrations. No one else seemed to have noticed. The music from the band playing on the main stage was loud enough to fill the whole festival ground with toe-tapping Pagan tunes. And just about everyone seemed to be dancing and drinking, despite the sticky humidity.

Jonathan twirled Mum around, sending her long red dress spinning around her. Mum giggled, stuck her hand in the air and yelled ‘Olé!’

Poppy couldn’t remember Mum ever looking so happy. She had always seemed so thoughtful, so serious. But there she was, dancing with her new husband like there was nothing in the world that could make her sad.

Poppy tucked her knees beneath her chin and hugged her legs to herself. Her thoughts turned to Michael. She waited for the tidal wave of pain, but it never came. In fact, she couldn’t seem to feel anything. It had all happened so quickly that it didn’t feel real.

But it
had
happened. It was real. She’d made an idiot of herself and probably lost her best friend as well as the guy she loved. Why the hell did they have to be the same person?

‘Mind if I sit down?’

Poppy looked up to see Bob staring down at her. He had his serious face on, which probably meant that Mo had talked to him. She shook her head, but her insides were tense.

Groaning, Bob eased himself towards the grass. He landed on his backside with a grunt and flashed a smile at Poppy. ‘Don’t ever get old, lass.’ Bob stared at Mum and Jonathan. ‘She looks happy, doesn’t she?’

They were doing something that looked like the tango crossed with limbo dancing without the pole. ‘Yeah, she does.’ Poppy grinned as Mum held out her skirt like a cape while Jonathan did his impression of a bull.

‘You don’t look happy.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Only two women ever looked at me the way you looked at me this afternoon. The first was my mother when I told her I weren’t going in the police like my old dad. The second was the ex when the doc told us I couldn’t have kids.’

Poppy’s head snapped back to Bob. ‘You can’t have kids?’

‘Not with the ex, not with any woman.’ Bob shook his head. His hair swayed like a silver mane, but his gaze stayed trained on Mum and Jonathan. ‘The nearest thing I have to a daughter is dancing over there. And the nearest thing I have to a granddaughter is sat right here. What the hell made you think I was that girl’s father?’

Poppy sighed. Mo had talked to him. ‘I found a picture of you and Maya’s mum on the festival archive.’

Bob snorted like an old horse. ‘Me and Sandra had a bit of thing after the divorce. Didn’t last. Sandra’s what you call a free spirit. If you’d looked a bit harder you would have seen pictures of her with a different bloke damned near every year. That’s what upset you?’

‘Sorry. I’ve got everything wrong today. Should have just stayed in my sleeping bag.’

Bob shifted so he could hug an arm around her. She settled her head against his shoulder and put an arm around his beer belly.

‘What else did Mo tell you?’

‘That was it. And she only told me that so as I could set your mind at rest. Bloody woman’s better at keeping secrets than MI5. She did tell me you needed keeping an eye on. But am I to gather you had a brush with her medicine while you were in the lodge?’

She shrugged. Medicine? Was that what it was? ‘Bob, why didn’t you tell me that I look like Maya?’

He nodded. ‘Suppose you do have a bit of a look of Maya. But you’re not anything alike.’

She turned her face up to his. ‘You turning into a sphinx or something? I look like her, but I don’t look like her. What the hell kind of logic is that?’

Bob grinned. ‘You’ve heard that old sayin’ about eyes being the windows of the soul? Well, I reckon that’s true. When we look at people we see more than just their bodies, we see who they are. When I look at you I see this lively and interesting spirit. A good soul. You’ve always had a good soul. But Maya...’ He shook his head. ‘Maya’s different. There’s a darkness in that girl. Don’t know whether it’s anger or hatred, but there’s so much of it in her that it calls to the bad stuff. Kind of sucks it into herself. I suppose you think I’m talking a load of old nonsense?’

She thought of Kane’s hollow eyes, like all the things he’d done were still inside him – eating away at his...
soul?
She shook her head. ‘I think I get it.’

Bob looked at her strangely. He didn’t say anything, but she thought that perhaps there was a small smile of victory on his face as he turned his gaze back on the burning wicker man. He probably thought that after a year’s aberration she believed again.

Did she? Did she really believe that what had happened in the lodge was supernatural? No. She wasn’t going down that road. She was finished with Beth and Maya...the whole thing! If they were hanging around haunting the place they could go and find other minds to screw with.

She leaned against Bob. ‘I think you’d have made a great dad,’ she whispered. ‘But I’m glad we got you instead.’

As Bob hugged her tightly, she squeezed her eyes shut, tried to block out the guitar strumming and drums, and tried to find somewhere quiet inside herself. But everywhere there was noise.

An hour later, Mum and Jonathan were still dancing. They had tried persuading Poppy to join them, but she’d experienced enough public humiliation for one day.

She took a deep breath of sticky, smoky air and scanned the other revellers. Just beyond the light of the Big Willy bonfire, she spotted Tariq talking to some guy. They seemed to be arguing about something.

The old guy, whose thinning, straggly grey hair was covered mostly by a bandanna tied like a woman’s headscarf, pointed a finger at Tariq’s chest. An unhappy customer, maybe?

Tariq’s hands were waving about defensively, clearly trying to calm the old guy down. Eventually the old guy shook his head and stalked away. Tariq ran a hand through his hair and glanced around. His gaze met hers. He hesitated and then walked in her direction.

‘I though you were going to find me this afternoon,’ Tariq said, collapsing on the grass beside her.

‘Sorry, I got caught up in things.’

Tariq nudged her with his elbow. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘What were you arguing about with that guy?’ she asked, more to distract him than because she was curious.

‘What guy?’

Poppy raised her eyebrows.

‘Oh…him. It was nothing. Why so interested? You want me to hook you up or something?’

Poppy smiled. ‘Oh, thanks. That’s a lovely image.’

Tariq leaned closer. ‘Why don’t I give you something to replace that image?’

Her chest tightened and her pulse ticked in her throat. But she wasn’t sure whether it was because she wanted to kiss him or because she wanted to run away as fast as she could.

She forced herself to look at him. ‘You gonna strip off and dance naked under Big Willy there? That would just about do it.’

Tariq smiled and pursed his lips, as if he was actually considering it. ‘I don’t mind dancing naked but I’m not that keen on a big audience. If you want to go somewhere quieter, I’ll show you my cancan.’

Poppy struggled against it, but she felt her lips curve into a smile.

‘That’s better.’ Tariq’s grin grew cockier and he settled on the grass like he meant to stay. ‘So what’s up? You not keen on your new stepdaddy?’

Poppy groaned, annoyance flaring again. ‘Why do people assume that I’m not OK with Mum marrying Jonathan? I’m happy for her. Why wouldn’t I be?’

Tariq sucked in a deep breath and raised his eyebrows. ‘
Sorry
.’

She sighed. ‘No, I’m sorry.’

‘So what happened to your dad? Was there another woman?’

‘Not exactly. He’s training to be a vicar.’

For a second Tariq nodded seriously. Then he burst into laughter.

Poppy laughed too. ‘Yeah, I know. Both my parents are religious crazies.’

‘Is that why he left?’

‘No. I blamed it for a while; it all kind of happened at the same time. Even thought I’d get back at him by calling the dog he bought me after an atheist. But I think really they just fell out of love.’ She watched Mum and Jonathan swirling round like they were dancing on ice. ‘I think Mum’s happier with Jonathan.’

Tariq jumped to his feet and held out his hand to her.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘Dance with me.’

She stared at him in horror. ‘I can’t dance to this. It’s
folk
music.’

‘Of course you can dance to it.’ He grabbed her hand and before she could argue, he’d yanked her to her feet. He lifted both her hands around his neck. ‘They go there, and mine go round here.’ His hands slid round her back, tickling her ribs as they went. They locked her in a tight grip. ‘Now we sway. See? Easy.’

‘Who do you think you are – Fred Astaire?’

‘Who?’

‘Old Hollywood star? Danced with Ginger Rogers?’

‘Oh, right, yeah, sure,’ Tariq said, but she could tell he didn’t have a clue what she was going on about. Michael would have got it. They went through a phase in junior school of watching old black and white movies from his gran’s collection. Most of them had been musicals. She would wrap one of Mum’s scarves around her waist so that it hung like a long dress, and Michael would borrow his dad’s fishing hat and they would dance together like Fred and Ginger. In a flash she was back there. Michael holding her hand. Spinning around until she was dizzy and they both collapsed on the floor in giggles.

Tariq’s lips on her neck woke her to the darkness, the flickering bonfires and the guy she was dancing with who wasn’t Michael.

‘Don’t you care that my mum’s over there?’ she asked, squirming, trying hard not to push him away.

‘Is she watching?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Then I don’t care.
Yet
.’ He blew a raspberry into her neck that tickled and made her giggle.

One song finished and another began. Everyone around them cheered. Tariq glanced from side to side and back at Poppy. ‘Am I missing something?’

‘It’s
John Barleycorn
.’

‘Who?’

‘The song, it’s called
John Barleycorn
. It’s the old folk song that the festival was named after.’

Tariq nodded and listened for a minute.

There was three men come out o’ the west their fortunes for to try,

And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn must die,

They ploughed, they sowed, they harrowed him in, throwed clods upon his head,

And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn was dead.

‘Cheery,’ he said eventually.

‘It’s about the harvest. Barleycorn is the crop. It’s about life, death and rebirth.’ Life, death and rebirth. On and on. Except where was the rebirth? All she saw was death. ‘I have to go,’ she said, pushing him away.

‘Why?’

‘I can’t – can’t do this.’

‘Do what? Poppy, we’re just having fun.’

‘I nearly missed Mum and Jonathan’s handfasting because I was too busy screwing up things with my best friend. I thought I could work out what happened to Beth, but I can’t cos I’m hopeless. And being here with you is just making things worse!’

‘Hey.’ Tariq brushed his thumb against her cheek. ‘You’re not hopeless. Don’t say that.’

‘I am! And if you knew what was good for you you’d get as far away from me as you could.’

He pressed his lips together and shook his head.

‘I’m serious, Tariq. Everything I do goes wrong.’ She felt panic rising. Michael was gone. Her dad was gone. She’d accused her stepfather of breaching his professional ethics. She was no closer to finding out who killed Beth. Everything she touched... ‘I can’t even deal with my own life. How on earth did I think I was going to help anyone else?’

Tariq leaned in and kissed her. She tried to turn away, but his hands slid up to her face and cupped her cheeks, holding her steady.

It was like he’d injected her with a crazily strong painkiller. Suddenly she didn’t care about anything. Thoughts floated away like dandelion clocks scattered to the night. And all those whirling emotions were driven away by just one incredibly strong desire.

She almost didn’t notice the rain.

But the cold sharp splashes brought her to her senses. She pushed him away. ‘I can’t do this.’

Tariq blinked. ‘Poppy? What’s wrong?’

‘I can’t
do
this!’

A guy who had been hovering a few paces away tapped Tariq on the shoulder. ‘Hey Tariq, can I—’

Tariq spun around. ‘Not now, OK?’ He turned back to Poppy. ‘What’s wrong? Why can’t you do this?’

‘There’s someone else.’

The hovering guy tapped Tariq on the shoulder again. ‘Hey, man. I just wanted – I thought you were the guy to see.’

Tariq’s face tightened, like he was going to explode. He squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again he grabbed Poppy’s hand.

‘Just give me a minute to get rid of this guy. Please don’t go.’

She nodded.

‘I didn’t mean to disturb your evening,’ the guy said, as Tariq tried to steer him away. ‘All I wanted was some pot.’

He was a dealer. Tariq was a flaming drug dealer.

Poppy’s mouth fell open. It was still hanging open when Tariq turned and saw her staring at him.

The band struck up a new number – a frantic reel that filled her head so that she couldn’t think straight. Beth was dead, and Maya was nowhere to be found. She’d messed things up with Michael. Someone at this festival was a murderer. And the guy she’d been fooling around with was a drug dealer.

As Tariq started towards her, she turned on her heel and ran.