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Authors: James Dawson

Say Her Name (8 page)

BOOK: Say Her Name
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Chapter 10

The Intruder

Bobbie had spent her whole life sneering at girls who screamed, but it turned out she’d just never had a reason to do so. She screamed. Again. Although, at least this time she screamed a swear word rather than just whimpering – a fraction tougher. She twisted around just in time to see a familiar figure pull the door shut and slide the lock in place. ‘What the … ?’

Caine leaned back against the door, out of breath. ‘Man, that was intense.’

Bobbie turned back to the shower stall, ropes of wet hair swinging about her face. She pulled the curtain to one side. As she’d somehow known it would be, it was totally empty aside from stray hairs and residual soap suds. Her next thought was,
Are either or both of my nipples showing?
Thankfully they weren’t, but she pulled the robe tighter across her chest. ‘Are you insane? What on earth are you doing?’

The lights hummed and returned to their usual brightness. ‘I had to see you.’ He wore a black hoodie, hood up. He’d planned his break-in carefully, dressing like an urban ninja.
‘I had to see you
.

What was that supposed to
mean
? This was a lot to take in. Surely not … a feeling somewhere between cartoon butterflies and nauseous panic fizzed in her stomach.

‘Do you have any idea what would happen if you got caught in here with me?’

‘You’d be expelled?’ he shrugged.

‘I didn’t mean Dr Price, I meant Grace. She’d rip my arms off and use them to beat you to death.’ Caine laughed, but stifled it. ‘Caine, what do you want?’

He stiffened, more serious than she’d seen him. ‘Come off it – you were in the graveyard. That was just the start of it. There’s some serious
Paranormal Activity
crap going down.’

Bobbie’s mouth fell open as a million sentences raced to get out at the same time: he’d seen things too; she’d totally forgotten he was there at all; what had he seen? The tornado in her head stopped because if he was here, saying this, that meant everything was really real. Just like that, the impossible came true. ‘You’ve seen her too.’

He didn’t say anything but he puckered his lips and drew a deep breath in through his nostrils. No words were necessary because his eyes alone said exactly how scared he was. ‘What did we do?’ he finally muttered.

Bloody Mary was real. It was overwhelming. The validation was at once both brilliant and terrifying.
There’s no such thing as ghosts
. The refrain that had helped her sleep countless times in the past, on nights when the pipes creaked or branches scraped against her window, was now redundant. There
was
such a thing as ghosts, and they’d both seen her. In that moment, in that bathroom, Bobbie found herself living in a different world – one where fantasy was reality.

‘What? Where?’ She pulled herself together. ‘I’m sorry, I should have been in touch. I … I could have asked Grace for your number.’

‘Yeah.’ Caine gave a wry smirk. ‘That would’ve gone down well.’

Bobbie returned his smile and the mood in the bathroom lightened. ‘God, how did you even get in here? You must have a death wish.’

‘Same way we got in on Saturday. I saw you queuing in the corridor with those other girls and waited until you were alone.’

The secret passage. ‘Well, I respect your kamikaze style, but we
cannot
be found in a bathroom. Needless to say, questions would be asked. You’ll have to come to my dorm.’

Another semi-smile. ‘Because that’s less dodgy?’

Bobbie raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t get any ideas.’ As if he would. ‘Naya’s there.’

‘Again … that’s better?’

‘Wash your mind out, young man.’ Bobbie tutted as she opened the door no more than an inch. The corridor looked clear, but a couple of dorm doors stood open. Mrs Craddock’s shrill voice echoed from somewhere in the distance. ‘We’re gonna have to make a run for it. You know I just spent five minutes convincing some Lowers that our school had impenetrable security and strange men couldn’t get in.’

‘I’m not a strange man.’

‘You are if anyone catches us – got that?’

He chuckled. ‘Got it.’

A girl emerged from her dorm to enter the one next door. Bobbie shut the door at once, giving her a minute to leave the corridor. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Okay.’ Bobbie stuck her head into the corridor. ‘Run.’ She took off, her wash-bag swinging at her side and with Caine on her heels. There were six doors and a bend in the hall to contend with. Her pulse pounded in her skull. She kept her eyes fixed on their destination, not daring to slow for even a second. Almost throwing herself at the door, she pressed down on the handle, tumbling inside.

She hauled Caine across the threshold and, checking no one had seen them, slammed the door shut. It hadn’t occurred to her that Naya could well be naked. As it was, she was clipping her toenails over the waste-paper bin.

At first her face registered shock before changing to one of pure smutface. ‘Roberta Rowe, you little minx.’

Bobbie rolled her eyes. ‘He’s here about the ghost.’

Naya looked immediately less interested. ‘Oh.’

‘Yes.
Oh
is right. Caine … make yourself comfortable.’ He pulled out the desk chair and Bobbie arranged herself as demurely as she could on her bed. In the terrycloth robe there were approximately two positions she could sit in without flashing him. This was far from ideal. She took her glasses from the bedside table and put them on. She really should also do something with her hair before it turned into dreadlocks.

Caine unzipped his hoodie and let it hang over the back of the chair. He wore a white cotton band T-shirt that seemed to know exactly where to cling. In other circumstances, circumstances in which she didn’t feel like her head was exploding, this would have all been pretty sexy. As it was, Caine’s lips, biceps, chest and dimples (although very much in her bedroom) were the least of her worries. On the plus side she didn’t feel awkward and tongue-tied any more. All that shyness seemed so inconsequential now, not to mention immature. ‘So what’s going on?’ he asked.

‘Your guess is as good as mine.’ Bobbie dragged a reluctant brush through her knots. ‘You go first. What did you see?’

‘I only really noticed today. At first I thought I was imagining it – like my eyes were playing tricks on me or something, yeah?’

Naya suddenly looked more concerned now that
two
people had seen something weird. ‘You’re actually serious? What did you see?’

‘Have you got a mirror? I’ll show you.’

‘Sure.’ Naya climbed off her bed. ‘In the wardrobe.’ She opened the cupboard to reveal the mirror on the inside door. Each room had an identical wardrobe – a bulky wooden unit big enough for the clothing of two or three girls.

‘Come and see.’ Caine crossed the room and Bobbie followed. The three of them were reflected together, just as they had been on Saturday night.

‘What am I looking at?’ Naya appeared unimpressed. Caine angled the door, taking in different views of the room.

‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘Can you open the door a bit?’

‘No! What if someone sees you?’ Bobbie remembered the last girl who’d smuggled a boy into Piper’s Hall. Dr Price had only just stopped short of branding a scarlet letter on the poor girl’s forehead.

‘Just for a second.’

Naya exhaled noisily, but did as told. She held the door open. Now the mirror also held the reflection of the Brontë House corridor. It was gloomy, but their lights cast a sickly pool down the landing. In the mirror, Bobbie could see the last two rooms and the fire escape. ‘There,’ Caine whispered, not moving, the way you do when you don’t want to scare a timid woodland animal. ‘Can you see it?’

‘See what?’

‘Look at the very edge of the mirror. In the corner.’

Bobbie squinted. At first glance there was nothing to see, but then she looked harder. In the darkest recess of the corridor next to the fire escape, as far away as possible, stood the girl. Entirely still, she waited just outside their dorm. The thinnest sliver of light hit her skin. She held her pale hands together in front of her body, her hair once more hanging over her face. Bobbie gasped and whirled around, stumbling into Caine as she did so. The real corridor was deserted. She looked back at the reflection. As if startled, the girl with the black hair inched further into the shadows. ‘Oh God.’

Caine held Bobbie tightly, his warm fingers wrapped around her upper arm. He squeezed her like he
needed
to be believed. ‘She’s in
every
mirror. If you look close enough, she’s there.’ His eyes widened. ‘Serious. I can see her on the side of the road in my wing mirrors. She’s in shop windows when you walk past them. She’s e
verywhere
.’

‘Oh God,’ was apparently all Bobbie could say any more. She could taste tears at the back of her throat – not sad tears,
scared
tears. The girl in the mirror still waited.

‘What do you mean?’ Naya stomped back to the mirror. She angled it inwards, elongating the view down the corridor. Mary, if that’s who she was, shied away from the light, edging into the darkness. Naya dropped the wardrobe door like it was hot. ‘No way! No effing way!’ Naya’s fingers shot into her hair as if she wanted to scratch the image out of her head.

‘Naya, keep it down,’ Bobbie urged, closing the bedroom door.

‘But it’s impossible! How can she be in the mirror but not … ?’ The taller girl tugged her hair off her face, stretching the skin into a mask of alarm. ‘I mean, how? How can it be real?’

Bobbie took her hands and steered Naya towards her bed. If she didn’t calm down Mrs Craddock would be at their door in seconds. Naya’s eyes were wide, darting around, unable to focus.

‘I don’t know,’ said Bobbie. ‘We’ll figure it out … we’re getting closer, remember?’

Naya took a deep breath and held up a well-manicured finger for attention. She seemed to reel in the crazy a little. ‘There is a ghost in the mirror.’ Bobbie nodded. Naya went on, ‘I guess I didn’t really believe it until now. I really thought it was Sadie punking us.’

‘It’s not. It’s all true. She’s watching us.’ Bobbie turned to Caine. Their eyes met and it finally felt like she wasn’t on the life raft alone. ‘It’s like she’s following us.’

Caine’s breath shook. Relief. ‘Least I’m not imagining it. I thought I was legit cracking up.’

Bobbie laughed a feeble, shaky laugh. ‘I wish we were.’

‘What the bloody hell is going on? This ain’t right. Like impossible. I don’t believe in ghosts.’

Bobbie filled Caine in on the limited amount she and Naya had learned that afternoon, which, when recounted, sounded like nothing at all. She finished on telling him about Bridget Horne’s incarceration at the Royal Seahaven.

‘Well, I’m coming with you,’ Caine said after she told him about her plan to visit.

‘You can’t,’ Bobbie said without any reason.

‘Why not? I’ve only got Sports Science on a Tuesday morning. They won’t even know I’ve gone. I can pick you up.’

‘You have your own car?’

‘Yeah – well, I drive my mum’s. Don’t you? I thought you lot was all minted.’

‘Piper’s Hall Ladies are not allowed cars on site,’ Naya said in her crisp mockery of the English accent. She still sat rigidly on the edge of her bed, but the colour had returned to her cheeks.

A plan hatched in Bobbie’s mind. ‘Listen. Naya, if we both sneak out tomorrow we’re more likely to be caught. If I go with Caine you can cover for me if anyone asks. Do you mind?’

‘Do I mind not going to a mental asylum to ask about ghosts? Gee, let me think … ’ She fixed Bobbie in an unimpressed gaze.

‘You’re actually the best.’

‘That doesn’t fix anything though – you still have to break out of this place – and it’s swarming with police.’

‘I’ll think of something. Caine, can you pick me up from the end of the cliff walk at like nine?’

‘Sure.’

There was a rap on the door and all three froze, staring slack-jawed at the exit. ‘Girls, it’s Mrs Craddock. May I come in?’

Chapter 11

Girl Talk

‘Hide,’ Bobbie breathed. She threw herself at the door. ‘Just a second!’

‘Why?’ The voice on the other side of the door was immediately suspicious. The door handle wavered. Bobbie pressed it shut. ‘Let me in, please.’

‘Get in the wardrobe!’ Naya hissed.

‘No effing way! There’s a
mirror
in there!’

‘Girls! What’s going on? I’m not in the mood for any shenanigans tonight, I can feel a migraine coming on.’

‘Bobbie’s naked!’ Naya hollered.

‘Oh thanks, Nay.’

‘I’ve seen it all before! Now please let me in.’

‘Caine, you’ll have to – there’s nowhere else,’ Bobbie pleaded in a whisper. Their mattresses were on those blocky bed things, with no room underneath for storage, so the other obvious hiding place wasn’t an option.

He gritted his teeth and a frown furrowed his brow. Muttering an array of expletives he opened the wardrobe and stepped amongst the clutter of shoes. ‘Sorry … ’ Naya sealed him in. Caine screwed his eyes tight shut as darkness engulfed him. Bobbie’s heart went out to him – there was no way she could be in there alone, face-to-face, with
her
.

Bobbie gave a nod and opened the door. ‘What a lot of nonsense.’ Mrs Craddock blustered into the dorm. ‘Lights out early tonight, ladies. Dr Price’s orders.’ Naya groaned, but she went on. ‘Use the bathroom now, and then you may read, but you
must
stay in your dorm. Obviously I don’t need to explain why.’

The wardrobe shook slightly. Naya pretended to trip over thin air to bump into it – and it wasn’t nearly as casual as Bobbie would have liked. Craddock didn’t look convinced. Poor Caine – what was going on inside that cupboard? What could he see, his face centimetres from the mirror?

There was one last thing she had to do before they could get him out, however. Bobbie reclined back on her bed with a sigh. ‘Is everything all right, Roberta?’

‘I feel awful … I’ve had really bad diarrhoea.’ Bobbie had learned at a very young age that
no one
questions diarrhoea – like who’s gonna check the toilet after you’ve been? It was the ultimate skiving sickness. ‘It must be something I ate.’

Mrs Craddock had dealt with more than her share of vomit and diarrhoea and didn’t seem fazed. ‘Oh dear. Have you been more than once?’

Bobbie knew how to play it. ‘Yeah. I went and then had to go again like right away.’

‘And have you been sick?’

‘No. But I
feel
sick.’ She was careful not to be too hammy.

‘Poor dear, must be a tummy bug. Drink plenty of water. Naya – keep an eye on her and come and fetch me if she gets worse.’

‘Yes, Miss.’ The housemistress turned to leave. ‘Obviously if you need the toilet, go, but otherwise – stay inside from now on, please.’

‘Yes, Miss.’

As soon as the bedroom door clicked shut, the wardrobe burst open and Caine tripped over his feet in his haste to get out. ‘Shh!’ Naya caught him.

‘Are you okay?’ Bobbie sprung off her bed.

‘I could see her. Right behind me in the wardrobe.’ His eyes were wild and beads of sweat gleamed on his dark skin.

‘It’s not real,’ Bobbie said, although she was far from convinced. ‘It’s only a reflection.’

He looked to the floor, as if ashamed of his fear. ‘It looked real.’ Caine grabbed his hoodie, gripping it tighter than he should. His lips were pasty. ‘She’s coming for us.’

They waited ten minutes or so to ensure that Mrs Craddock had finished her rounds before smuggling Caine out of their room. Bobbie walked him back to the secret passage while Naya kept a lookout. Luckily, it seemed either the warning from Price or the threat of an escaped axe-wielding psychopath had kept all the Piper’s Ladies securely in their rooms, and no one interrupted their stealthy prowl back to the hatch on the staircase.

Caine pulled the passageway door open and turned back to her. ‘If this weren’t so messed up, it’d be pretty cool.’

‘What? The passages?’

‘Yeah. We ain’t got these at Radley!’

Bobbie whispered. ‘There’s one in the theatre too – so the servants could carry drinks in and out when it used to be a ballroom. There’s meant to be priests’ holes too.’

Caine frowned. ‘What’s a priest’s hole? Sounds kinky.’

‘Don’t they teach History at Radley?’ Bobbie smiled.

‘I’m a Geography kinda guy.’

‘Back in the day it was illegal to be Catholic. The original owners of the house were sympathisers so built little hidey-holes for priests on the run. Or so they say. I’ve yet to see evidence of this.’ She shrugged.

‘Man, your school is so much cooler than mine.’

Creamy moonlight flooded the landing, catching Caine’s cheekbone and lips. All of a sudden, Bloody Mary was purged from Bobbie’s mind. ‘Okay.’ She pulled her dressing-gown belt tighter. ‘You sure you’ll find your way out?’

‘I wedged the kitchen door open with a rock.’

‘They teach you that in Croydon?’ Bobbie couldn’t resist and Caine beamed back.

‘Oi! Don’t be talking smack about the Croydon massiv’!’ he grinned. ‘Nah. It’s a dump. Better off out here in the sticks.’

There was a long silence. It probably wasn’t
that
long, but it felt like an eternity. Bobbie knew that moments like these, goodbyes, needed filling. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to say. If this were one of her stories, her main character – the off-kilter-hipster-girl-with-issues that guys wanted to rescue – would say something profound or deep or even just plain cute. Nope. She had nothing, which she guessed meant that the real Bobbie Rowe was neither pin-up sexy
nor
adorable-kooky-funny. Great. ‘I guess I’ll see you in the morning then,’ was the best she could do.

‘Yeah.’ Caine exhaled like he’d been stuck in suspended animation too. Or was that just the optimism node in her brain working overtime? ‘Sweet dreams, yeah?’

‘Oh that’s likely.’ Bobbie grimaced.

Caine slipped into the hatch, using his phone to light the way. ‘Think happy thoughts. Or, you have my number now, just call me.’

Although she couldn’t be sure, Bobbie was pretty sure she experienced her first swoon. That is, if a swoon felt like a strawberry-milkshake tsunami starting at your feet and levelling everything in its path until it got to your head. She actually had to steady herself against the portal. ‘I’ll leave my phone on in case
you
get scared,’ she replied.
Nice save
, she thought. Caine chuckled and vanished down the servants’ stairs.

She did think nice thoughts. She thought of the goodbye all the way back to her room, replaying the scene over and over, squeezing every last drop out of the memory – with time on her side she was able to think of about fifty funny-cute-sexy-witty goodbyes. Dammit.

When she arrived back at their room, Bobbie found Naya nervously perching on her bed. As soon as she walked in, Naya sprang off the bed and grabbed her. ‘Oh God, what took you so long – don’t leave me alone!’

‘Sorry, I had to make sure Caine got out okay.’

Naya pouted. ‘Oh I bet you did! Held his hand the whole way?’

Bobbie suddenly found it hard to look her in the eye. ‘No … it’s not like … that.’

‘Look, normally I’d be up for an all-night boy summit, but, hello – ghost-mirror-woman!’

Bobbie took a deep breath. ‘I know.’

‘Bob, can I come in with you tonight?’

The fear burned bright in her eyes; Naya was fraying at the seams, about to fall apart. ‘Of course. And we’ll keep the lamp on. All night if you want.’

A tear glistened in the corner of Naya’s eye. ‘Thank you.’

They distracted each other for a while, bitching about Grace mostly, until Naya fell asleep first, her heavy breaths falling on Bobbie’s ear. Bobbie closed her eyes and imagined it was Caine lying beside her. The idea came out of nowhere, but she was surprised to find she liked it. A lot.

But then thoughts of Sadie leaked into her head and she felt guilty for feeling happy. Bobbie wondered what her poor parents and sisters were going through right now. They must be going out of their minds with worry. She used thoughts of Caine to block thoughts of Sadie and that made her feel guiltier still.

So lost in it was she that it took her a moment to realise that she was dreaming again. It felt so real, so vivid, that she could easily have been awake, and she hadn’t even been aware of falling asleep.

The gag-inducing stench of disinfectant filled the ground-floor girls’ toilets. Bobbie sat on the seat of a toilet in a locked stall, her knees tucked under her chin. Once more she was in the old, starchy uniform. Itchy woollen socks were pulled all the way up her shins, ugly hobnail shoes finishing off her legs.

Bobbie didn’t know why, but she was scared. She was hiding. She was hiding in a toilet cubicle.

Then she knew why. There was an unmistakeable laugh: the ‘Mean Girl Laugh’. It was then as it was now. Cruel, harsh, mocking laughter – girls trying to outdo each other with cattiness. She wasn’t alone in the bathroom. ‘Have you ever heard her speak?’

‘I don’t think she knows how to! Perhaps she’s deaf and dumb.’

‘Don’t be so mean, she’s new,’ said a third, kinder voice.

‘Oh don’t be such a goody two-shoes, Judy. I mean, she’s positively backward.’

Bobbie sat as still as she could on the toilet. She knew two things: they were talking about her, and she would rather die than be discovered.

‘You know, she has
quite
the reputation in Oxsley.’

‘How do you know?’ the third girl, Judy, asked.

‘It’s a small, inbred town! Everyone knows everyone!’ Bobbie pictured them preening and pouting in front of the mirror the way Grace and Caitlin did today. ‘You do know she’s a
bastard,
don’t you?’ The offending word was whispered in awe and scandal.

‘You never!’ said the second girl, who sounded as airheaded as Caitlin.

‘It’s true. I’d be surprised if her whore of a mother even knew who her father was.’

‘Susan, that’s an appalling thing to say!’ Judy scolded.

A soggy puddle spread across the hem of her skirt, Bobbie’s tears soaking into the charcoal-grey fabric. The words cut through her, dragging across her bones.

‘Don’t be so naive!’ Susan went on. ‘Everyone knows she’s here for free – her mother doesn’t pay a penny.’

‘Because she passed the entrance exam … ’ Judy argued in vain.

‘I heard it’s because they didn’t know what to do with her at Radley Grammar,’ said the airhead girl.

‘I think you two are absolutely beastly.’

‘Heavens, Judy. If you like her so much why don’t you be her best friend?’ Susan chided.

There was a pause. ‘No thank you,’ Judy said finally. ‘She’s so queer. She scares me.’

All three girls laughed. The Mean Girl Laugh.

Bobbie awoke, back in her bed. The heating hadn’t come on yet so the bedroom was bitter, her breath clouding. Dawn was still hours away. Her pillow was damp with tears.

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