Pretty Twisted (25 page)

‘What makes you say that?’ I asked.

Hugh made a face. ‘Well, he was the one who made the meeting with you, Abby and Claudia happen.’

‘Huh? I thought it was Gabe who wanted to meet us.’

‘Nope. Gabe brought Claudia home one night and she was showing us pictures on her phone, and once Brian saw one of Abby he kept going on about how we should all meet up. He’s always been a bit full-on when it comes to girls – took his last break-up really badly.’

We sat in silence for the rest of the way, trying to digest this uncomfortable information. In just under fifteen minutes we were outside Stables Market. I’d tried Abby’s phone continuously. The last call had started ringing – which meant she wasn’t underground any more. But she hadn’t picked up.

There was no sign of the police as we entered the market’s main yard – but then it hadn’t been long ago that Freya had called. Colourful stalls and shops, mostly selling clothing, accessories and fast food, were set back from the cobbled walkways in recesses. Some of them were playing pounding music, which seemed at odds with the fancy metal benches and statues of horses in the main area.

‘Do you know where Brian’s stall is?’ I asked. Hugh nodded. Hoping we’d arrived ahead of Abby, I took the nearest walkway. It looked like the market was winding down for the day, meaning that we couldn’t conceal ourselves in the crowd. Not that Brian was going to do anything to us if we were spotted . . . at least, I hoped not.

‘We have a problem,’ Hugh said suddenly. I followed his gaze to an empty shop some metres ahead. ‘That’s where Brian usually is. He must’ve packed up early!’

Maybe this wasn’t where they were meeting after all! Panic rising, I looked around, hoping vainly to see Abby or Brian in the crowd, or some kind of clue to tell me where they were. Nothing – and then I caught sight of Brian, heading up the walkway carrying an empty crate. It was impossible to read anything from his expression – he just looked mildly bored. And normal. I began to wonder if we’d been barking up the wrong tree. He reached his shop and perched on the table, checking his watch. We backed behind a stall so he couldn’t see us.

‘Must’ve been taking everything to the car,’ Hugh whispered. ‘Main thing is, your mate’s not here yet.’

Feeling heavy with relief, I tried Abby’s phone again. Still no answer.

‘We can get to her before she even reaches him,’Jonathan said. ‘If you think about it – she could come from three different directions. Let’s split up – and you keep ringing, Ros.’

‘The boy talks sense,’ Hugh said. Jonathan scowled at him. He walked past Brian’s stand and I drew in breath sharply – then remembered that Brian and Jonathan had never met. I retreated a few steps, ducking behind a rail of coats. Hugh slipped down a nearby alley.

Brian finished clearing the stand. He leaned against the glass front. He’ll be on the lookout now, I thought – and then Abby appeared round the corner at the far end of the walkway. Jonathan stepped into her path. Abby looked startled, glancing over at Brian’s stall. Jonathan put his hand on her arm and they hurried back the way Abby had come. But Brian was also moving – in their direction. The intense look that had suddenly come on to his face made my blood run cold.

‘This way,’ Hugh hissed from the alleyway. I followed him and came out on to the next parade. Jonathan and Abby appeared at the far end and headed out of the back exit. Brian followed them, just a few seconds behind. Hugh and I hastened to the gate, dodging stalls and tourists. Please don’t let him catch them, I thought as we pushed our way out. Jonathan and Abby were running up the street, but they kept having to swerve out of the way of passers-by. Brian was doing the same, but I could see he was closing on them. I opened my mouth to yell this to Hugh – then two police cars swerved round the corner, sirens blazing.

Jonathan, Abby and I stood outside Abby’s house. The police had taken Brian off for questioning and Hugh had gone with them. They said they’d be talking to us later, which was good, as I wasn’t sure if Abby was in a fit state for answering questions. Once everything had been explained she’d started to shake uncontrollably. The whole journey home she’d kept repeating, ‘It can’t be him. He’s a nice person.’

The police officer who’d given us a lift back was in the house explaining the situation to Abby’s parents. Telling Abby I’d follow her inside in just a moment, I looked at Jonathan.

‘I guess you’ll be going now.’

‘I’d better. I promised Mum and Dad. They’re not going to believe all this!’ He turned, then paused. ‘Ros . . . why didn’t you say anything earlier about where Freya was? And what did Hugh mean by “devoted stalker”?’

My stomach twisted. ‘I didn’t do anything wrong, really. I never meant any harm.’

‘What – you really did stalk Freya?’

‘No, I . . . Let me explain.’ There was no way out now and I was almost glad I could tell the truth at last. ‘You went on and on about Freya, but I couldn’t understand what made you like her so much. I wanted to see for myself – I was curious.’

Jonathan frowned. ‘OK-that’s creepy. Like, really creepy.’

‘I know! That’s why I didn’t say anything – didn’t want anyone to know. And . . . there’s something else I wanted to keep secret.’ I wet my lips. ‘Something that might make more sense.’

I squeezed his arm, mostly because I was afraid of losing my nerve. I thought for a moment about how to put my feelings into words and then decided that maybe it didn’t matter. Taking a deep breath, I managed to smile.

‘I really like you. Love you, maybe.’

He stared at me. My smile wavered.

‘I thought that if I knew what you liked about her, then maybe I could work out how to make you like me.’ His expression was unnerving me now. ‘Say something.’

Jonathan shook his arm from mine, staring at me as though I was a lunatic.

‘You’re far too young for me! You’re fourteen, Ros!’

I opened my mouth to tell him I might be only a kid, but that didn’t change what I’d done for him. I’d been there the times he wanted to talk, I’d bunked off school when he needed me and I’d sat up into the early hours comforting him. My age didn’t change what we’d shared and the jokes we’d made or anything at all, if what we had was as strong as I’d thought it was.

I could have said all these things, but I didn’t. Instead, I just went inside.

Rosalind

8.00 p.m.

In an odd way I was almost glad that the last few hours had been like an episode of
Crimewatch
, because it meant I didn’t have to think about Jonathan. Abby’s parents had lots of questions to ask and it was ages before we could escape to her room and be alone. The police had returned to tell us that Brian had confessed under questioning to the murder of the first girl. I’d suspected that hours ago, but to hear it confirmed really rammed everything home.

After a while Abby said quietly, ‘Brian always scared me a little. But I never admitted it because I was jealous of you.’

‘Me? Why?’

‘You had Jonathan. He was so much cooler than any of the boys that ever liked me.’

I sighed. ‘Jealousy does funny things to people.’

‘Why do you think Brian did what he did?’

‘I don’t know. Hugh seemed to think it all started when he got dumped a while back.’

Abby made a small noise and I put my arm around her. We were silent for a while. Then Abby said, ‘If it wasn’t for you, I might be dead right now.’

‘We don’t know that’s what he was planning,’ I said quickly.

‘I sort of dumped him too though, didn’t I? When he wanted to . . . you know, I said no. Maybe he wanted to make me pay. And then when I was dead . . .’ She shivered. ‘He’d just move on to someone else.’

Perhaps that was the pattern. Brian targeted girls he thought he’d be happy with, then flipped when they rejected him. There had been a man on the news like that; every time he’d started off with the best intentions, believing that this girl would be different from the last.

‘I was dating a cold-blooded murderer!’ Abby said. ‘This is the kind of thing that happens in films, Ros! Not to people like us.’

‘It did though,’ I said, squeezing her hand. ‘But, Abby? I’m so glad you’re OK.’

The next day the Student Snatcher was front-page news in all the papers and websites – partly because Freya was safe, but also because the second girl, Lyndsey, had walked into a police station last night and told her story. Apparently she’d met Brian in a goth club. She’d been unhappy at home, and after a couple of weeks Brian had invited her to stay round his house in the attic room. Everything had gone well for a while, but then Brian and Lyndsey had had an argument that had led to blows, and Lyndsey had managed to get out of the house. Terrified by his threats, she’d been lying low, staying with some friends who lived far away and keeping quiet about the whole thing. I did the maths and worked out that a couple of days after Lyndsey had left was when Brian had first met Abby, which I guessed fitted the pattern.

The news reports didn’t say much else, though one had published an interview with Gabe. ‘I am completely shocked by what’s happened,’ he was quoted as saying. ‘If I’d known my housemate was picking up young girls and taking them to my house, I’d have asked him to leave.’

Under other circumstances that would almost be funny.

On the last day of half-term the doorbell rang. Knowing I was the only one home, I opened the door.

It was Hugh – with Dog.

‘Bonjour, Mademoiselle.
’

I wasn’t sure what to say. This was the last thing I expected. Hugh looked different – smarter – and he’d actually had a shave. ‘How do you know where I live?’

‘I have amazing powers of detection! No, really, I got your mate Claudia to tell me.’

‘She’s not my mate,’ I snapped, and Hugh grinned.

‘Still uppity, I see.’

‘Oh, shut up,’ I said, and immediately wondered how I had the nerve. ‘What do you want?’

‘Came to give you an early Christmas present.’ He held out Dog’s lead, which appeared to be made of several ties knotted together. ‘Yours if you want him.’

I stared. ‘You serious?’

‘The police are all over the house and it’s doing my head in; I’m off for a couple of weeks. Graham won’t look after him. I seem to recall you saying you’d always wanted a dog.’

‘I have, but Dad would never let me.’

‘Play the poor neglected child traumatized by divorce and I bet he will.’

I looked at him sharply. ‘How do you know . . .’

He shrugged. ‘I can tell. And trust me, it works.’

I found myself taking the lead. ‘Thanks, I guess.’

‘No need for thanks – it’s no skin off my nose.’

‘Good. Your nose needs all the skin it can get.’

Hugh looked startled, then he laughed. ‘Nice one, Ros!’ I hid a smile. ‘See you around, OK?’

He stepped out on to the pavement and it was then that I saw Freya waiting. She looked at me a moment, then linked arms with Hugh. He gave me another wave and they headed off.

Something butted my leg. Dog was looking up at me.

I smiled. ‘You look ridiculous. Didn’t they even buy you a proper lead and collar? Let’s get these undone and I’ll get you something to eat.’

‘Christ, Ros!’ Olivia stepped through the open door. ‘Where did the dog come from?’

I thought a moment. ‘I guess a friend gave him to me.’

‘Are you planning on keeping him? Dad isn’t going to like it one bit.’

‘He’ll have to get used to it,’ I said with a shrug. ‘Now, are you going to help me figure out how I explain this or not?’

Olivia entered my room without knocking. I looked up from where I was sitting on the bed with a freshly bathed Dog beside me, sketchpad on my knees.

‘I cannot believe you talked Dad round.’

I shrugged. ‘Just played the poor neglected child traumatized by divorce.’

‘All right, what happened? All you’ve done the last few days is sit up here drawing.’

I thought about the sketches I’d done. Jonathan, Freya, Hugh, the police – everything I’d gone through in the last week had tumbled out on to the paper. I wasn’t sure if drawing them made me feel better or worse, but it seemed the right thing to do. What I was sure about was that I’d never show these pictures to anyone.

I shrugged.

Olivia sat down beside me. ‘Come on, Ros. Is it anything I can help with?’

I nearly laughed. I couldn’t remember Olivia ever offering me help. She was persistent though, and finally got the whole story out of me. I’d expected her to be scathing, but she just shook her head.

‘God, Ros, you need to get out more. You could have been in big trouble, you know that? And seriously, were you expecting the guy to say, “Sure, be my girlfriend”?’

‘He could have told me he liked me but didn’t want to go out with anyone now – or something! It hurts!’

‘Well, yeah. If it doesn’t hurt then it never meant anything.’

‘It’s all right for you. You’ve got your mates and your boyfriend. I never really had anyone apart from Abby until Jonathan started chatting to me.’