Super Dark (Super Dark Trilogy) (22 page)

“Oh come on, it’s not the end of the world,” Becky chuckled. “We’re going to a club, not a funeral. Just try it on, will you? I know it’ll look amazing.” She walked toward the door. “So, who wants a drink?”

“Have you got any lemonade?” Marie asked hopefully. “I like lemonade.”

“No, silly, I’m talking about a
real
drink. Vodka and orange cool with everyone?”

“Now you’re talking!” Hannah said, rubbing her hands gleefully.

“Sam? That okay with you?”

I nodded. “Yes, vodka’s fine with me.”

Becky smiled and went downstairs to the kitchen.

“So, are you going to try on that dress on or what?” Hannah asked, turning her ferret eyes on me.

I scowled at her but didn’t have the strength to argue this time. I could tell the best way to survive this evening was to just to go with the flow. And if that meant biting my tongue, then so be it.

I slipped out of my tracksuit and my sweater and slid the red dress over my head.

Marie’s eyes widened. “Wow, look at your abs. It’s not fair. I want those abs!”

I didn’t answer. Silently, I shimmied my way into the tight material and then strutted over to the mirror to check myself out.

“Gosh, you look fantastic!” Marie gushed. “Red is so you.”

Hannah didn’t comment, just sort of grunted her approval.

I had to admit, it
did
look pretty good. The dress was a little tight, perhaps, but I couldn’t complain. The corseted waist gave me a real hourglass shape. Turning, I explored my reflection from the back, and wasn’t totally comfortable with how huge it made my butt look. Still, at least my top half was sufficiently covered.

Just go with it
.
You only live once.

Stepping away from the mirror, my eyes fell on the dresser and I noticed a framed picture of two pretty brunette girls. Picking it up, I recognized Becky’s angel-like features. She must have been around six years old. I was shocked by the little girl standing next to her. The two looked almost identical.

“Wow, I didn’t know Becky had a twin,” I said.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

Hannah and Marie exchanged glances.

“What’s wrong?” I asked innocently.

“That’s Becky’s sister Kate,” Marie replied. “She died four years ago.”

“Got hit by a car,” Hannah added solemnly. “The whole family went into meltdown. Becks took it hard. Off school for weeks. I think she had a mini breakdown.”

“It’s so sad,” Marie resumed. “Kate was such a lovely girl. The two of them were inseparable. They did everything together. We miss her terribly. But please, Sam, don’t tell Becky we told you about this. It’s not that it’s a secret, it’s just—well, she’d probably like to tell you in her own time. I don’t want her to think we’ve been blabbing.”

I didn’t say anything for a while. I was in shock, trying to absorb the fact that Becky had managed to conceal this from me for so long. I thought about the happy, smiling girl I’d come to know and wondered how she’d managed to maintain such a positive outlook in the face of such trauma. It was, in a strange way, deeply humbling. Both our lives had been touched by tragedy, yet we each had a different way of dealing with it. While I had retreated into my shell, Becky had faced the world with a propensity to live life to the full.

And then I thought of something else. That first time she’d asked me about the abduction, I’d thought she was just being nosey, trying to pry into my affairs. Now I saw things differently. Perhaps the reason she’d sought me out was because she saw me as a kindred spirit—someone who’d been through a similar ordeal, someone she could relate to. Perhaps, just perhaps, I’d misjudged her.

“Hey, why the long faces?”

We turned and saw Becky standing in the doorway, balancing a bottle of vodka and a carton of orange juice in one hand and fours glasses in the other.

We quickly dispersed to different sides of the room, our guilt an unspoken stain on the atmosphere. Becky put the drinks down on the dresser and blew her bangs out of her eyes. “What were you guys talking about? You all look really suspicious. What’s going on?”

“We were just discussing Sam’s dress,” Marie blurted. “It looks really good, doesn’t it?”

A slow, lop-sided grin spread across Becky’s face. “Yes, it does. But then, I knew it would. I told you I’ve got an eye for fashion.”

I flashed a weak smile. “Yeah, I guess I should listen to you more often.”

“Only thing is,” she continued, scrutinizing my bare feet, “what shoes are you going to wear? You can’t wear flats with that dress. Did you bring any heels?”

“No,” I said.

“Don’t worry, my mum’s about the same size as you. I’ll check her wardrobe in a sec and find you something. Okay, so now that’s sorted out, who wants a drink?” She unscrewed the vodka top and poured a generous portion into one of the tall glasses. “How much orange, Sam?”

“All the way to the top,” I said, hoping to dilute the alcohol as much as possible. I didn’t want to get too drunk.
Somehow, I think it might be a good idea to keep my wits about me tonight.

She handed me the glass and I took a tentative sip. It tasted more of orange than vodka, but it was just about tolerable. After nodding my approval, Becky fixed drinks for the rest of them and we spent the next hour or so getting increasingly inebriated. Despite promising myself to stay sober, I found I couldn’t say no to the large quantities of vodka being slipped into my glass.

By the time nine o’ clock came, we were dressed and ready to go, and I could barely see straight. As we headed downstairs to the hall, I felt so unsteady, Marie had to hold me upright.

When we reached the bottom of the staircase, Becky’s mum rushed out a side door carrying a plate of sandwiches. “Goodness, you girls aren’t leaving yet, are you? You haven’t eaten a thing! I don’t want you going out with empty stomachs.”

Becky sighed patiently. “Mum, we don’t have time for this. We’re supposed to be meeting Frasier outside the club in twenty minutes. We can eat when we get back.”

“Over my dead body,” her mother said sternly. “None of you are leaving this house until you’ve eaten.” Pursing her lips together, she began passing the plate around and we each took a sandwich to appease her.

Becky crammed the bread into her mouth and swallowed it down in two gulps. “Happy now?”

“Deliriously, sweetheart,” her mum replied, planting a sloppy, wet kiss on her cheek. “Thank you.”

“Ew, Mum! You’re smudging my foundation!”

“Ready to go, girls?” Becky’s father shot down the hall like his pants were on fire. As soon as I clapped eyes on him, I knew where she got her height. Her dad was like a massive ostrich; a bald-headed man with stick-out ears who combed his side hair across the top. Fleetingly, my gaze landed on his feet, and I noted that he tucked his trousers into his socks. He had a very absent-minded professor kind of look.

“Becky, my darling, you look beautiful,” he gushed, blissfully over-looking the fact his daughter was wearing the equivalent of two pieces of rope tied together. He squinted at me. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met?”

I extended my hand. “My name’s Sam. I go to school with Becky.” His palms felt sweaty.

“Pleasure to meet you, Sam.” He glanced at his watch. “Let’s be off now so we can beat the traffic.”

We nodded in unison and followed him out the house to a blue Range Rover that was parked outside. Becky jumped in the front with her dad and the rest of us squeezed into the back. The engine sprang to life and the radio greeted with Elvis crooning about
Suspicious Minds
.

Fifteen minutes later, we were cruising through a part of Elmfield where you could drive for ages without seeing a single bar or shop. The farther we got, the less I liked it. The whole place seemed like a ghost town. I couldn’t imagine there being a nightclub anywhere in the vicinity.
Is this someone’s idea of a joke?

Suddenly, we turned into what looked like the back of an abandoned clothing factory and caught the tail end of a long line of people. I glanced up and saw neon lights spelling out the word “Revolution” in the night sky.

We had found it.

“Okay, out you go, girls,” Becky’s dad said as he pulled into a free parking space.

“Can anyone see Frasier?” Marie asked, squinting at the crowd. “He was supposed to meet us outside, wasn’t he?”

“There he is!” Hannah slurred, pressing her face against the window.

I turned and saw a hulky figure waving frantically at us.

“Is that definitely him?” Becky’s dad asked dubiously. “I don’t want to drop you off with a stranger.”

“No, it’s him,” Becky answered a tad snappily. She obviously couldn’t wait to get out the car. Pecking him on the cheek, she opened her door and stepped out onto the pavement. I followed her and was hit was a blast of cold air that cut into my cheeks like piano wire. Not bringing a coat had been a bad idea.

Frasier jogged over to us with a group of boys who, despite being smartly dressed, looked worryingly like cast-offs from
Lord of the Rings
. The tallest, a rotund boy with a baby face and designer stubble, I took to be Frasier’s brother. The other two were the closest to real life hobbits I’ve ever seen: short and stumpy with curly hair and elfin features.

I could see the disappointment in Becky’s face even before they’d reached us. Maybe she’d been hoping to meet a bunch of hot guys tonight and this wasn’t what she’d planned for.

“Hello, ladies,” Frasier announced, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Are you all ready to have a good time?” He looked amazing in his tweed jacket, gray slacks, and knee-high hunting boots.
So wrong and yet so right. That’s a look that only he could pull off.

Hannah uttered something that sounded suspiciously like a swear word and Becky tapped her foot impatiently. Only Marie maintained a dignified stance. “Hi Frasier, good to see you,” she beamed. “Which one’s the birthday boy?”

Frasier pointed to the baby-faced mountain and Marie went over to give him a hug. The guy blushed profusely and the hobbits snickered amongst themselves.

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” Frasier asked, embracing me. “You ready to party?”

“Yup,” I hiccupped. “Ready to parr-ddy!”

He frowned at me. “Oh boy. I can see I’m going to have to keep a close eye on you tonight. You stink of booze!”

I laughed maniacally.

Shaking his head, he turned away to make the necessary introductions. His brother was called Todd and the curly-haired hobbits were John and Duncan. Secretly, I christened them Pippin and Merry.

“So have you got our IDs?” Becky whispered, hugging her arms against the cold. “It’s bloody freezing and I don’t fancy standing out here all night.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” Frasier said as he began rummaging through his pockets.

“Where’s mine?” I slurred, lurching toward him. He handed us each a piece of plastic the size of a credit card. Squinting in the half-light, I saw it was some sort of university ID that had my picture on it.

“Cool,” I grinned.

There were two loud beeps from behind us. Startled, we all turned and looked across the road. Becky’s dad was still parked there, scrutinizing the events as they unfolded.

“Everything okay over there?” he shouted.

“Fine Dad, just fine,” Becky shouted back. “You can go now.”

“Remember to call me before you’re done, okay?”

“Okay. See you later.”

The Range Rover disappeared out of sight and we followed Frasier to the front of the line, where two burly-looking bouncers prepared to interrogate us. I should have felt apprehensive, but I was so out of it, I didn’t feel a thing as I flashed the fake ID and stepped over the ropes into the club. As it turned out, none of us had any trouble getting in. Frasier was clearly proud that he’d pulled it off.

“See, told you it would work,” he whispered to Becky as we descended the stairs to the basement.

“Yes you did,” she agreed. “I owe you one.”

He flashed a devilish grin that implied he might just take her up on the offer.

Five minutes later, the eight of us were standing in the middle of a packed dance floor, surrounded by throngs of hot, sweaty bodies gyrating in time to a well-known anthem. It was the first time I’d been to a club, and I found the whole environment fascinating. It was like a school disco, but for older people. I suddenly felt really grown up, despite my tipsiness.

“Let’s get a drink,” Frasier said, leading our little procession over to the bar. As he stood negotiating to the bartender, Marie and Hannah slipped off to the bathroom, and Becky pulled me to one side.

“What say we lose them in a minute? There are so many hot guys here, we need to be free to explore.”

“You can’t do that to Frasier,” I hissed. “We’re here f-for Todd’s birthday. Let’s stay for a while and s-see how it goes. It might not be that b-bad.”

“What are you stuttering for?” she snapped. “You sound like Porky Pig.”

Before I could answer, she’d told Frasier to get me some water to sober me up. He handed me a bottle of Evian and I drank from it deeply. My head was still all over the place, but the cool liquid helped to bring a little clarity to things.