Authors: Tanya Byrne
Tags: #Juvenile Nonfiction, #General, #Juvenile Fiction
‘No. I can move on.’
I shouldn’t have, but I lost it then. ‘And how are you going to do that? This isn’t the flu, Orla,’ I snapped. ‘You aren’t just going to get over it. You were raped. You can’t keep pretending it never happened. OK, you don’t want to tell the police, I get that, but you’re not sleeping or eating. You need to see a doctor. What if you’re pregnant or he gave you an STD? I’m guessing he didn’t use a condom.’
She staggered back as though I’d slapped her. ‘Jesus, Adamma.’
‘I’m sorry.’ I couldn’t look at her; tears stung the corners of my eyes and my hand shook as I pressed it to my mouth.
‘I wish I’d never told you.’
‘Don’t say that.’ I shook my head. ‘Please.’
‘I do.’
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, but I’m just trying to help.’
‘Why don’t you get it, Adamma?’ she hissed, hands balled into fists at her sides. ‘Not everyone is like you. I’m not as brave as you.’
‘You’re so much braver than you think you are, Orla.’ I wanted to reach for her hand. I wished she’d let me reach for her hand, but she wouldn’t look at me. ‘You are. I wouldn’t even be able to get out of bed if that happened to me.’ She turned her cheek towards me again. ‘I know it’s hard, but I’m here, and DS Bone and I told you that his wife, Lisa, works for that rape sanctuary in Swindon.’
‘Stop it!’ she spat. ‘Stop saying that word!’
‘Orla –’
‘No. You don’t get it, do you? I’m at Crofton on a scholarship. What do you think Ballard’s going to do if I tell the police what happened at a Crofton party he didn’t know anything about? The parents will freak and start pulling their daughters out of school! A school like Crofton is only as good as it’s reputation and there’s no way Ballard is going to let me call that into question.’
‘But what if he does it again, Orla?’
‘That’s not fair!’ she roared, fresh tears suddenly rushing down her cheeks. I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t think and reached for her hand and it seemed to make her worse. ‘That’s on him, not me!’ she roared again, pulling away. ‘Don’t put that on me! I have enough to live with! You don’t know what I have to live with!’
‘I’m sorry, Orla. I’m sorry.’
‘Why are you doing this to me?’ she sobbed and my heart split open.
‘Sorry, I just want to help.
Please
. Just tell me what to do.’
‘Just leave it. I want to forget it ever happened.’
‘OK.’
‘Just help me do that, OK?’
‘OK.’
We stood facing one another for a minute or two, our arms crossed as we tried to catch our breath. When she had, she sighed. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered, wiping her cheeks with her fingers. ‘I didn’t mean to shout at you. I know you’re just trying to help and I appreciate it.’ She shook her head and looked at her feet. ‘I just can’t.’
‘I know.’ I nodded. ‘I’ll stop pushing, I promise.’
‘Thank you,’ she said with a dull smile, but when I took a step back, she looked panicked again. ‘What are you doing? Where are you going?’
‘I have to go back to the newsagent.’ I thumbed over my shoulder, trying to lighten the mood. ‘You totally shoplifted a Dairy Milk in front of a policeman.’
‘Is he going to arrest me?’
‘Of course not! But I should pay for it, and
Maire Claire
. I want that free nail varnish.’
I smiled, but she looked terrified. ‘I’m not going back there.’
‘I know.’ I nodded. ‘It’s up to you. Do you want to wait for me here or would you rather walk back to Crofton?’
I knew what she was going to say before she took a step back. ‘I’ll see you back at Burnham,’ she said, looking down the road towards the newsagent as though it were on fire, then turning and all but sprinting back to Crofton.
When I got to the newsagent, DS Bone was sitting on the hood of his car, waiting for me. As I approached he raised an eyebrow and handed me a blue-and-white striped plastic bag. ‘Twenty quid on magazines. How the other half live.’
I went to take my wallet out of my purse, but he shook his head and motioned at me to sit next to him on the car. I’ve never sat on the hood of a car before and had a sudden flash of Dominic’s Aston Martin. He’d have an embolism.
‘So women are running from me now?’ he said with a theatrical sigh when I sat next to him. ‘Good to know.’
I wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. When I didn’t respond, he rubbed his mouth with his fingers, then sighed again. ‘So that’s your friend?’
‘That’s my friend.’
‘How’s she doing?’
I didn’t know what to say, so I just shrugged.
He nodded. ‘All you can do is be there for her, Adamma.’
‘It’s not enough.’ I shook my head and looked at the plastic bag, sure that I was going to cry in front of him again and I didn’t want to. ‘It’s not enough.’
I jumped down from the car before he could tell me that it was, because I couldn’t bear it. I didn’t want him to give me a speech about how Orla just needs time and I’m doing the right thing, the one that he’s probably given dozens of times to dozens of silly girls like me, who still believe in things like justice and redemption and a world where the good guys win and the bad guys go to prison.
‘Thank you for the magazines,’ I managed to say before I gave in to the tears.
I ran so fast that by the time I got back to Burnham, I had to stop to let my eyes come back into focus before I ran up the stairs. I knocked at Orla’s door, but she didn’t answer, she didn’t come out of her room for the rest of the day, in fact, not until I knocked at her door again before lights out. I didn’t think she was going to answer, but when she did, she did what she always does and answered with a too-big smile, as though nothing had happened. She babbled on for a while, complaining about how hard her Latin homework was and how quickly the weekend had passed and I humoured her, not because I particularly wanted to talk about either of those things, but because I was just happy she was talking, even if it was about nothing. So I nodded and agreed and when she turned on her radio, I took the hint and said goodnight.
‘She’s nice,’ she said, as I was about to close the door. ‘Lisa, his wife,’ she explained when I frowned at her, her voice a little smaller. ‘She’s nice.’
I froze, my hand still on the door handle. It was like being approached by a nervous cat, I didn’t want to make any sudden movements, I just wanted her to come to me, so I nodded, but inside, my heart was beating so fast I felt dizzy.
She started running a brush through her hair and I thought that was it, but then she turned her cheek towards me. ‘Will you go with me to see her tomorrow?’
I couldn’t speak, I just nodded, and when I went back to my room, I cried.
Cried and cried.
3 DAYS AFTER
MAY
Headmaster Ballard called an assembly during breakfast this morning to tell us that the police would be searching Savernake Forest. There must have been almost sixty of us huddled in the dining hall – everyone in Burnham and what looked like most of the staff, from Mrs Delaney to the people who worked in the kitchen and laundry room – but I’ve never heard a silence sound so loud. It seemed to scream out as we all looked at one another. I thought the windows were going to break.
I didn’t see Bones until Ballard introduced him and the man standing next to him as Chief Inspector Tom Bracken, who was exactly what I pictured a Chief Inspector to look like: greying and a little overweight. The sort of man who has a favourite mug and walks the dog every day and carves the chicken on a Sunday. He told us that he was co-ordinating the search with Bones who, despite being in a clean shirt and a tie, still looked in need of a hot meal and a good night’s sleep.
He handed back to Headmaster Ballard who suddenly looked very solemn. ‘I know that some of you helped Scarlett’s parents search Savernake Forest after the Chilterns’ Land Rover was discovered yesterday –’ he didn’t, but it felt like he looked right at me – ‘but the police have taken over and have been conducting a search of the area since dawn. I know how keen you all are to help, so I said we’d assist.’
He turned to look back at Chief Inspector Bracken, who added, ‘We know that Scarlett took the Land Rover with her when she left, so we can only assume she was in Savernake Forest at some point. We think that she might have met someone there before she went on somewhere else, so at this stage we’re just looking for clues as to where that might be.’
Everyone looked at each other and Ballard held up his hands. ‘Don’t be afraid, girls. As Chief Inspector Bracken says, we’re just looking for
clues
,’ he said and it wasn’t until he did that it occurred to me we might find something more sinister. I felt a shiver of dread at the thought, as though there was a spider under my shirt, scuttling across my back, but waited for the feeling to pass as I told myself that she was in New York again.
She was in New York.
No one said a word when Ballard told us to return to our rooms and change into mufti, not even Molly, who glanced at Orla and me as we were leaving the dining hall; her eyes wet. As we headed towards the stairs, Mrs Delaney pulled Orla to one side and asked her to stand with a small group of worried-looking girls. None of them seemed to know why they were there, but as I went up to my room, I could hear Orla crying and saying that she wanted to help. I guess Mrs Delaney couldn’t reach her parents to get permission.
A moment later, I heard my cellphone ringing in my room and thought it might be him so I ran to it, grabbing it and answering it with a breathless, ‘Hello?’
‘Adamma!
Kedu ka i mere?
’ my mother gasped, breaking into Igbo.
I told her I was fine and she was quiet for a second or two before I heard her say, ‘Thank God,’ her breathing settling as I pictured her in my parents’ big white bedroom, pacing back and forth. ‘What’s going on, Ada?’
‘Nothing, Mama,’ I told her, trying to sound nonchalant as I rested my phone between my shoulder and ear and unbuttoned my blazer. I didn’t want her to worry, especially after what had happened at the police station. ‘They think Scarlett ran off with some guy. You know what she’s like. She’ll be OK. She always is.’
‘Are you sure?’
My stomach quivered, but I ignored it. ‘Yes, Mama.’
‘That child.’ She tutted. ‘Why are the police searching the forest?’ I told her about The Old Dear and she sucked in a breath. ‘Be careful, Ada.’
‘I will. I promise.’
I heard Orla in the corridor then, crying – ‘I’m going anyway, Miss. I’ll sneak out while you’re gone. You can’t stop me’ – then slamming her door.
‘I can and I will,’ Mrs Delaney called after her. ‘One missing girl is enough.’
‘I’d better go. I’ll call you later.
Ahuru m gi n’anya, nne
.’
She managed to tell me that she loved me too a second before Orla flew into my room, hair everywhere, and I hung up.
‘Can you believe this?’
‘It’s bullshit,’ I told her as I unzipped my skirt. ‘But what can Crofton do? They’re not allowed to take you out of school without permission.’
‘This isn’t a school trip, Adamma!’
‘I know. But don’t give Mrs Delaney a hard time; she’s just doing her job,’ I said with a shrug, hanging my skirt back in the closet. ‘Parents are being super over-protective since Scarlett ran away. I just overheard Ella Sanderson saying that her parents are threatening to pull her out and send her to Cheltenham.’
She softened a little at that and sat on my bed with a pout as I tugged on a pair of jeans. ‘But I want to help.’
‘Keep trying to call your parents.’
‘Dad’s on a bloody submarine and Mum’s on a flight to Nice.’
‘OK,’ I said, walking over to my chest of drawers and taking out a fleece.
She saw me contemplating it and said, ‘It’s too warm for that.’
‘Yeah, but it’s me.’
‘Put it on.’
I did. ‘So. OK. France is what, a two-hour flight? Call your mother when she lands and get permission. You can do it later. We’ll probably still be there.’
‘I suppose,’ she muttered, arms crossed.
Talking to her had settled my nerves, but I still struggled to lace my walking boots. I guess she noticed, because she asked me if I was OK as I struggled with the zip on my Gore-tex jacket as well. ‘I’d better go,’ I told her, running over to kiss her on the cheek, before dashing out the door and down the stairs.
Mrs Delaney must have known that with everything that was said over breakfast, none us had eaten, so she handed a breakfast bar and a banana to each of us as we left Burnham, telling us that there would be more food there, but that if we felt faint, to let her know immediately. I wasn’t hungry, but forced mine down because she kept barking, ‘Eat, girls! Eat!’ as we walked over to the main hall, holding out her hand for our breakfast-bar wrappers and banana skins as proof that we had. Then, when we’d gathered outside the main hall, she separated us into five groups of ten by surname. I was in the third group with Madame Girard who frantically counted us four times before we’d even left Crofton.
It had rained heavily overnight, but you’d never know it, the sun was cartoon-yellow and the sky was clear. It wasn’t hot – not what I regard hot – but it was warm enough to make some girls shrug off their jackets during the walk. Even I was comfortable.
It was strange seeing Savernake Forest so busy. When I run through it in the morning I rarely see anyone. Maybe someone walking their dog, but usually it’s just me. But this morning there must have been at least a hundred people gathered on Postern Hill. Mrs Delaney kept telling us to keep together as we navigated our way through them and gathered to one side where we wouldn’t be in anyone’s way. The police were in uniform, so the rest must have been volunteers, most dressed as we were, in walking boots and waterproofs.
A small group of people had already started setting up folding tables. There was a tea urn on one, with a woman behind it, peeling the plastic from a stack of polystyrene cups. It’s such a silly thing to think, but my first thought was that Scarlett’s parents are so environmentally conscious that they would never use polystyrene cups, but then I realised it was Edith and panic licked at my palms. I wandered over to her before I could tell myself that it was a bad idea. I hadn’t seen her since her wedding so I didn’t know how she was going to react. She was thinner than the last time I saw her, but not as pale, her cheeks freckled from the sun and her dark hair threaded with gold. But that brightness had gone, her eyes dull from lack of sleep. ‘Adamma,’ she said when she saw me, running around the table to give me a hug. ‘What happened?’ she said into my hair. ‘What happened?’
Before I could answer, Mrs Delaney was next to me. ‘Miss Okomma,’ she said, so loudly that everyone around us turned around. ‘What part of
stay with your group
do you not understand?’ She took me by the sleeve and dragged me away so brusquely that I could only manage to mouth
I’m sorry
at Edith over my shoulder.
She had a long stick, I don’t know from where, and marked a cross in the mud by my feet. ‘Stand on this, Miss Okomma.’ I did with a sigh. ‘Now don’t move.’
I heard Bones before I saw him. ‘If you could gather around, please,’ he called out, holding a hand up. ‘OK,’ he said, when everyone had gathered in a clump in front of him. ‘My name is Detective Sergeant Michael Bone from Wiltshire Police. I’d like to thank you for assisting us with this search. We’ve been searching since dawn, but we still have a lot of ground to cover, so we really appreciate your help. I know it’s a Wednesday and some of you have taken time off from work and school to be here, so Scarlett’s family has asked me to extend their gratitude. They will be providing refreshments, so once everything is set up, please help yourselves and dispose of any rubbish in the bins provided.
‘A couple of basics before we start. Savernake Forest is about four thousand five hundred acres. It’s very easy to get lost so I need you to pay attention. OK?’ He waited for us to nod. ‘OK. First, there are some maps being passed around, please take one. If there aren’t enough, let me know. If you haven’t already done so, please sign in.’ He pointed towards a woman in a red waterproof coat standing behind one of the folding tables. ‘It’s kind of rough around here and muddy from the rain last night so if you don’t feel up to it, I understand. But if you are feeling up to it, thank you. If you haven’t brought any water with you,’ he pointed at Edith, who was still fussing over the cups, ‘please grab a bottle on your way out. Does everyone have a mobile?’ We all mumbled
yes
and he nodded. ‘Good, but I still don’t want you to go off on your own. If you are on your own, let me know and I’ll pair you up with someone.
‘OK. This is the important bit.’ He held up a hand. ‘Only search where we tell you to search. If you think you see something outside the area you have been asked to search, please tell a police officer. And while we’re telling police officers stuff, if you find anything, don’t touch it. Just report it to a police officer immediately.’ He turned to the table behind him and held up a box. ‘There are gloves for people who want them and please,
please
don’t forget to sign out with a police officer when you leave.
‘Any questions?’ He waited a moment, but when no one said anything, he nodded. ‘Good. We’re going to be working in a straight line from here through the forest, focusing on the undergrowth. We’re looking for any clue as to where Scarlett might have gone, even knowing what way she left the forest will help, so nothing is too small. A receipt. An earring.
Anything
. And remember: take your time. This isn’t a race. We have plenty of volunteers. OK?’ He clapped his hands. ‘Thanks, everyone. Good luck.’
Our group of ten girls had two teachers – Madame Girard and Mrs Delaney, who hadn’t left my side – and a uniformed police officer. We worked slowly, flattening the carpet of bluebells under our feet as we kicked and poked through them, looking for something,
anything
. With each step, I held my breath, then let it out when I kicked a tuft of bluebells to find nothing beneath it but a leaf or a twig. Then I saw something white and my heart tumbled against my ribs as though it had fallen down a flight of stairs. Mrs Delaney must have seen me stop, because she peered down, poking at the bluebells with her stick to find a white feather and my legs went weak with relief.
‘Thank God,’ I muttered and she told me it was OK, rubbing my back with her hand. ‘I hope I don’t find anything,’ I confided in a whisper and she nodded.
We were almost finished with our first small section of the forest when the police officer with us stopped to mutter something into his radio. It had been wittering away, like a television left on in another room, and I’d been trying to listen but could only make out the odd muffled word. I stopped to listen, but was distracted by someone’s cellphone ringing. It was Mrs Delaney’s and she answered with a gruff, ‘Hello?’ then immediately softened, saying, ‘Yes. Right now? Of course. Yes.’ She took a breath, then turned to us with a smile. ‘That’s it, girls. Let’s begin making our way back.’
‘Back?’ we muttered, all at once.
‘To school,’ Mrs Delaney said breezily, trying to usher us towards the road.
I wasn’t convinced. ‘But we’ve been searching for, like, twenty minutes.’
‘Come along, Miss Okomma,’ she said, hand on the small of my back.
It took a moment for me to realise what she was saying. It was like a coin rolling into a jukebox. Rollrollroll SPLASH. Then I was running, crushing the bluebells under my boots. I didn’t even know where I was going, but when I got onto the road and saw a group of policemen at the end of it, blue and white police tape fluttering in the wind like bunting, I ran faster, faster, towards the gates, until I saw that they were open. Then Dominic was there, in front of me, arms around my waist. The force of it knocked the air right out of me and my feet left the ground, so I don’t know how he didn’t fall over, but he was solid, this wall between me and the gates.
‘Is it her?’ I gasped, trying to get past him. But he wouldn’t let me, telling me not to, to go back, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t. ‘Scarlett!’ I screamed and the force of it sent a flock of birds fleeing from the trees.
I managed to wriggle away and ran to the end of the road, under the blue and white tape and through the gates. I ran and ran, over the bluebells, frantically weaving between the trees until I saw another huddle of police officers. As I approached them, I saw something on the forest floor, something my heart recognised before I did, because it felt like it had broken into a gallop. I stopped, just as Bones broke away from the huddle. He said something, but I didn’t hear. ‘Is it her?’ I gasped, but he reached for my arm and led me away, back the way I’d just run, back between the trees, over the bluebells, lifting up the police tape with his free hand as we approached it. ‘Is it her?’ I asked again when he tugged me under it.