Saving Silence (11 page)

Gotta say sorry 2 u. I did something really crap that makes me a bad mate. Forgive me Im?

She was looking away. Moisture glistened in her eyes. So she
had
blabbed to Ollie about me going to Sam’s!

My insides knotted in hurt. Yet despite that, I couldn’t bring myself to let rip. I cared more about Nads than I was mad right now.

‘It’s OK,’ I said, meeting her eyes. ‘It’s happened, I can deal with it, and I don’t want you stressing. I’m not mad.’

Nadina seemed to sag in relief. She traced a smile over the bandage. To show I meant it, I smiled myself.

I was just handing her my mobile so she could type something else when her mum returned. It was fine though. We’d said what we needed. I left. Outside it was beginning to drizzle. As I
headed back the way I’d come I felt my mobile vibrate.

Slowly and uneasily I took it out. But it was only Ollie, asking how Nadina was. I’d texted him earlier, telling him what had happened and that I was going to the hospital to see her and
might not be able to see him until the afternoon.

She’s battered but OK, I texted back.

When I got out on to the main road I saw the bus I needed just leaving the stop. It would be a good fifteen minutes until the next one, knowing what Sunday service was like. Might as well walk
instead. It would give me thinking time.

Two weeks ago Sam had seen the attack on Hamdi Gul. He’d been close enough to be recognized. Mia, who was maybe a cousin, had been there too but hadn’t been part of the action. For
whatever reason, Sam hadn’t gone to the police. The week after, he’d stayed in the house as much as possible, scared. He’d come out on Saturday night though – to find me. To
tell me something, and not that he fancied me. Before we could talk, the accident had happened.

The people who tried to run him down are the ones Sam saw in the shop, I thought. Murder didn’t seem such a far-fetched explanation now Hamdi was dead.

And after Sam disappeared I’d been chased and started getting those texts. Was what had been happening to me connected to Sam? If I could understand that, I might be able to do
something.

I turned the corner on to a quieter street and right into a gust of wind. Man, I could do with another layer. I decided to cut down another small road, a more direct route home. It was only
further along that I realized I was being followed.

This wasn’t me being jumpy. Out on the main road it had been less noticeable, but here it was obvious. What was more, the guy wore khaki. A coat I recognized from the park.

Once again I felt my pulse race.

Perhaps they’d come from the skatepark. It was just round the corner, a well-known spot for trouble to hang out. I should have been more cautious. Could I run? Or would it be better to
pretend I hadn’t noticed? No, then he’d follow me home. If he didn’t already know where I lived, I wasn’t about to show him.

Should I give over the phone? I could get another. It was just a thing after all. But would that be the end of it? And did I want to let him get close, down this quiet back street?

That decided it.

I broke into a run along the pavement towards a back alley that snaked behind the houses to the next street. If I sprinted through there, hopefully I could lose him on the other side. But he
didn’t speed up. I looked back. No, I wasn’t wrong. He was walking. Had I got it wrong? Was I seeing things?

Someone stepped directly into my path. I ran straight into him and would have gone flying if he hadn’t grabbed me.

‘Thanks,’ I said breathlessly. ‘That was –’

He grabbed my other wrist and dragged me towards him. Realizing the danger I was in, I stamped on his foot, trying to free myself. I work out enough to have muscle power, but this guy was
strong. I couldn’t see much of him. He was wearing a hoody. A black hoody, with his face covered. The other guy from the park!

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the guy in khaki jogging up to join us. I kicked, trying as hard as I could to wriggle free. He let one of my arms go. Then his free hand punched me in the
stomach. My body doubled up. Somehow the impact sent my glasses flying and I heard them clatter on the pavement. I stopped fighting. The other guy drew near.

This is it, I thought.

‘It’s in my bag,’ I said. ‘Go on, take it.’

The guy in khaki pulled the bag from my shoulder and turned it upside down. My purse, Oyster card, phone and all the other stuff I kept in there tumbled out. He grabbed the phone and flipped it
open. I wanted to ask what it was he hoped to find. But even more I wanted to get out of this in one piece. So I stayed quiet.

After what seemed ages, he chucked the phone away. It skidded across the pavement and over the kerb.

‘Yep. She’s not got it.’ he said. He sounded young, local. Rather like everyone at school. The only difference to his voice was a hard edge. One that said,
Don’t
mess
.

The other guy pushed me against the alley wall. Pain whammed up my back.

‘Your mate. Where is he?’

‘Which mate?’

That earned me another jab to the stomach.

‘No jokes. You know.’

They could only mean Sam. ‘Don’t know. No one does. Honest to God. He’s taken off.’

‘Don’t lie. Where’s he gone?’

‘If I knew, I’d tell you!’

I sounded scared. Scared enough for them to exchange a glance. Then the guy in front of me leaned in close. I caught a snatch of blue eyes above the scarf covering his face. A stale smell clung
to his clothes, the kind that hit you when you passed a grimy pub.

‘Listen up, Imogen Maxwell,’ he said. ‘You want to avoid trouble, you keep quiet. Same goes for your posh little mate. Tell him to give over what he’s got on us, fast.
Cos wherever he is, he ain’t gonna be able to hide forever.’ He drew back, letting me go. ‘Wanna know why?’

He paused. Realizing what he wanted, I said, ‘Why?’

‘Cos if he don’t play along – you’re the one who’s gonna get it. And your little brother. And one more thing . . .’ The guy leaned in again, even closer.
‘There are a lot of things we could do to ruin the life of a pretty girl like you. Know what I mean?’

I nodded. His face was almost touching mine. Very quietly, he said, ‘
Good
.’

For a second I thought worse was coming. But after a tense moment they swaggered off. They didn’t even look back. They knew I was no threat to them. I slid down the wall, my bruised
stomach throbbing.

After a while I felt together enough to feel around for my glasses. One lens was shattered and the other had a huge crack across the centre. I realized that one of the arms had
bent too. It would be easier to buy a new pair than get these repaired. These frames were fashionable ones – they’d been expensive. I didn’t want to go back to wearing my grotty
old pair. The fact that they’d broken something so essential, that meant something to me . . .

Fighting tears, I gathered my other belongings. Apart from a scratched screen my phone was still working. ‘She’s not got it,’ the guy had said. I could have told them that.
What had they thought was there?

I had a new text – Ollie’s reply from earlier.

Come over. I want to see you. x

I texted yes and ran. It hurt, and I could barely see where I was going, but I didn’t want to stay in this place a moment longer.

Ollie and his mum lived on the edge of an estate twenty minutes from the station on the ground floor of a grey terrace. It looked like something out of a dystopian movie. The
front yard got used as a dustbin by whoever passed by. Keeping it clean was a losing battle. Judging by the people I’d seen hanging around here, I could understand why the house had a cage
over the front door and windows. And this was the nicer end of the estate.

Ollie’s mum had been given the flat by the council when she’d come to England. Ollie had been ten – the same age I’d been when I moved here. Exactly why she’d left
Colombia so quickly was something Ollie was cagey about. Given how unemotional he usually was, I guessed it was bad.

Ollie only ever invited people round when his mum wasn’t in so I wasn’t surprised when he opened up. I gave him a smile that felt strained. Inside I was still jittery. I’d gone
home and picked up my old glasses and tidied myself up. I felt stupidly self-conscious on top of everything else.

‘Hey.’

‘Jesus Christ!’ Ollie cried. ‘You look raw, babe. What happened? Has someone roughed you up?’

‘I look that bad?’ It wasn’t funny, but I started laughing, just as I had the last time I’d been this freaked out, at the bus station last Thursday. Ollie looked alarmed.
He pulled me inside. Something about his hand on my arm brought back the guy in the alley. I shook him off.

‘Don’t!’

He backed away, holding up his hands. ‘Im, stop this. You’re creeping me out. Tell me what exactly happened? Please. I need to know, because all kinds of stuff’s going through
my head right now.’

How did I begin explaining? Did I even want to? I took a few deep breaths. ‘It’s fine. I’m fine, Ollie. Gimme a moment.’

Ollie swore under his breath, half turning to the wall, running a hand through his hair. He’d gone very pale. He then did something he’d never done before. He gave me a hug, a proper
one. Not an arm slung round a shoulder, or a hello/goodbye one, or cuddling when we were making out. This wasn’t me and Ollie at all. I could even feel his heart beating, very quickly. Half
embarrassed, half uncomfortable, I just stood there. After he let go, there was an awkward silence. When it stretched past the point of OK, I said, ‘Wow. Who are you and what have you done
with Ollie?’

‘Jeez! Can’t I get anything right? I’m trying to comfort you. Don’t fling it in my face. Anyway, that’s not important! You need to tell me what happened.’

What was wrong with me? He was being nice. Why wasn’t I letting him?

Ollie took my hand and led me through into the living room. The telly was on, showing a footie match. He turned it off and perched on the arm of the sofa, a big cushy patterned one his mum had
picked up at the market.

He folded his arms, very head prefect all of a sudden. ‘I’m not going to mess about, Im. You’ve got to talk to me. If you want to lie and say you’re fine, you might as
well just leave. I can help if you give me a chance.’

This direct no-nonsense approach was much more in my comfort zone. Yet I hesitated. I wasn’t sure why. Ollie was my boyfriend. I should be able to talk to him, right?

‘Give me a moment.’

‘What’s there to think about? C’mon, Im. I’m scared for you, OK!’

There was no one else I could turn to. I’d had enough of going it alone and I didn’t know what to do. Screw Ollie being jealous of Sam. He wanted to listen and I wanted to let
him.

Ollie didn’t say much as I explained. His expression didn’t shift when I admitted I’d been over to Sam’s. I had the feeling he wasn’t surprised, and that made me
sad. He looked shocked when I described how I’d been beaten up, and his face creased into a deep frown when he heard that they’d threatened to hurt Benno.

‘God.’ He said flatly. ‘This is . . . I don’t know. I don’t know what to say.’

‘If Sam doesn’t come back soon, they said they can think of a lot of ways to ruin my life. So I’d better do my best not to piss them off, hadn’t I?’ I choked back a
sob. Suddenly it all seemed very real.

Ollie seemed to snap back to life. ‘Where did they hit you? They didn’t break anything, did they? Shit, I should get you some painkillers and stuff –’

‘I took some at home. Not that they’ve done much good.’ I placed a hand on my stomach, wincing. It was beginning to throb badly now. God knows what a lovely bruise I’d
have tomorrow. Ollie insisted on taking a look at where I’d been hit, pressing his fingers to my stomach.

‘Good old sports science A level,’ I said humourlessly. ‘You’ve clearly been paying attention in the injury-treatment module. Let’s ring the teachers and tell
them.’

Ollie ignored me. He was being very through. After a few minutes he said, ‘Far as I can tell there’s no real damage. You should see a doctor though, just in case.’

‘Yeah, yeah, later. So what do you think I should do?’

Ollie rubbed the side of his nose, muttering, ‘This is a bloody nightmare,’ under his breath.

‘I wish it was just a nightmare,’ I replied. ‘Unfortunately it’s real.’

He sighed and looked at me. He hadn’t mentioned my ugly old glasses. I wasn’t sure he’d even noticed. ‘D’you ever think about how things just seemed easier when we
were in Year 11? Just a few months ago. Yet it’s like we’re in a different world. It was safe then. Sorted, no questions, all black and white. D’you ever miss knowing exactly who
you were?’

All the time, I thought. Back then my life, and Ollie’s, had revolved around school. Being head prefects had suited us. It was weird that I’d never realized that Ollie felt exactly
as I did.

‘I still need to decide what to do next,’ I said.

‘That’s simple, right? You gotta find Sam. He needs to bloody well man up and sort it out rather than leaving you to deal with his crap.’

‘I don’t think he intended me to get it in the neck,’ I said with an exhausted sigh. ‘Will you help me?’

Ollie hesitated, just for a second. ‘Of course.’

I started by doing something obvious. I rang Sam’s mobile.

‘Hello, you’re through to Sam’s phone,’ the voicemail said. ‘Leave a message. I’ll try to get back to you.’

‘This is Imogen,’ I said after the bleep. ‘Sam, you’ve landed me in it. I’ve been getting threatening texts and I’ve been shoved about by whoever these guys
are and there’s only so much flack I can take, given that I know basically nothing about what’s going on. I get that you’re scared, and that this hiding-out thing is great for
keeping
you
safe, but it drops me right in it. I need to talk to you. Urgently. Ring me back.’

I ended the call. ‘How was that?’

‘To the point and very you,’ Ollie said, putting away his own phone. ‘He’d better ring after that.’

‘Yeah.’ There was a silence. Ollie seemed to be out of words and so was I. It was a bit of a relief when he said, ‘Im, this is crap timing, but I gotta go. It’s kind of
important.’