Looking for JJ (25 page)

There were a couple of coughs and the sound of snuffles. Kate swallowed back, her teeth clenched together. What did
Kate
deserve? A life of some sort, she supposed. Like Alice Tully had? A home; a job; friends; a boyfriend. Those things had seemed real and solid. Instead they had been as fragile as tissue paper. One puff of air and they had floated away. Then she had nothing.

Thing is . . . you mustn’t contact me in case. . . You know . . . in case anyone is trying to find you. But I’ll write to you, when you’re settled in uni. And who knows, one day I’ll maybe pay you a visit.

The line went dead. No doubt Rosie had pressed the
end
button before she meant to. How typical of her. She let the mobile drop on to the bed beside her and closed her eyes for a few moments. There were sounds from all over the building. Plodding footsteps on the stairs, irritated voices moving along the corridors, the sound of furniture shifting and doors opening and closing. A shriek of recognition from a girl and the low rumble of male voices from outside the window. A horn tooting in the distance and closer, from underneath, the thudding sound of someone’s stereo.

She sat up and ran her fingers through her stiff, unfamiliar hair. Her glasses were resting on the letters and she picked them up and put them on. She didn’t need them in order to read but she might as well get used to using them. She plucked up the letters and held them for a moment. Then, sitting on the very edge of the bed, her back bent over, her elbows rigid, she unfolded the two pieces of paper.

Two letters from Frankie. The first dated a couple of weeks after her trip to Brighton; the second a week or so later. When Jill Newton handed them to her she’d told her to read them and get rid of them. Why hadn’t she? She honestly had no idea.

Dear Alice
, they both said.

Kate stopped for a moment and whispered the words,
Alice
,
Alice
; the sound susurrating around the tiny room. It was a name that would always be with her, an echo from her past.

The letters went on, both similar in content, Frankie’s spidery writing growing larger in some places, the lines slanting down to the right.

I just want you to ring me. I’ve been a total prat and I just need to talk to you. We can talk about what happened in the past. Maybe we can get over it. Just ring me. I need to hear your voice.

I love you. I reacted badly that was all. I understand. People can change. I want you to know that my feelings haven’t changed, not deep down. I was just an idiot. Don’t give up on me. Just ring me. So that we can talk. . .

Kate folded the two pieces of paper up again and took her new glasses off. Poor Frankie. He thought he could make everything all right for Alice Tully.

But there was no such person as Alice Tully any more.

 

 

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First published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd., 2004

Published in paperback by Scholastic Ltd., 2005

This electronic edition published by Scholastic Ltd., 2012

 

Text copyright © Anne Cassidy, 2004

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eISBN 978 1407 13315 7

 

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