Undone (34 page)

I had it all worked out in my head. I’d thought about it for months. The party in the woods seemed like the perfect opportunity. Even the fact that it was so close to where he died seemed right, in a way. Like it was meant to be, almost.

I’d pictured it time and time again. Bugs realizing he’d been given a taste of his own medicine. The look on Stu’s face when he found out the truth. Breaking Lucas’s heart. I’d never truly believed
that
would be
possible – I was just going to go for dumping him in front of everyone, calling him a lousy shag. But the way Lucas had been looking at me had changed recently; it had softened somehow. Still, him saying he loved me was almost too good to be true. And the timing couldn’t have been better. Like I said: meant to be.

This
was not meant to be.

Burning hair and blistering flesh and screaming. So much screaming. Mine and hers, different in tone yet merging together in a hellish chorus. I will never forget the sound of her screams for the rest of my life. It will haunt me forever, just as it should.

When I was nine Gran baked a cake for my birthday. She baked one for me every year, but this is the one I remember best. It was chocolate, with more layers than I’d ever seen on a cake. Shavings of chocolate were heaped on top (Dairy Milk, I was pretty sure, since I’d sneaked a taste before the party). Nine candles, evenly spaced.

There were lots of kids at the party, but Kai’s the only one who’s clear in my memory. The others are blank faces. Except for Louise. She was there too.

I knelt on a chair, hovering over the cake while
everyone sang ‘Happy Birthday’ (Kai sang extra loud, of course). They did the whole hip-hip-hooray thing, and then it was time for me to blow out the candles. I took a deep breath and blew as hard as I could, getting six of them in one go. I leaned over the cake to get the two on the far side, and as I did so, the candle nearest me caught my hair. The air filled with that unmistakable smell, I yelped, and Mum grabbed a napkin to extinguish the flame. It was no big drama, really. A few singed strands of hair. But I never forgot that smell.

The smell of Sasha’s hair burning is lodged at the back of my throat; I can almost taste it. I suppose I should be relieved that it’s strong enough to obliterate the memory of the smell of burning flesh.

She’s still in A&E. Apparently they’re arranging transport to a special burns unit in Liverpool. That’s all I know. Lucas told me. He wouldn’t look at me, but he came and told me at least. He’s in the family waiting room with Sasha’s parents. I saw Mr and Mrs Evans arrive. He was in a dinner jacket and bow tie, she was wearing a beautiful midnight-blue dress. I think Sasha had said they were going to some charity benefit. They do that kind of thing a lot apparently. Tears were streaming down Sasha’s mum’s face; her
make-up was a mess. Her dad looked pale and tense. They didn’t notice me lurking at the end of the corridor. I took one look and went through a set of double doors in search of somewhere to wait far away from the others.

She could die. Sasha could die and it would be my fault. Other people might blame Stu for pushing her, but we know the truth.

If she doesn’t die, she might wish she had.

I called home, told Mum what had happened. I wasn’t even crying. Mum asked me a lot of questions that I couldn’t answer; then
she
started to cry. She said they’d be at the hospital in ten minutes and I had to beg her not to come. She couldn’t understand why, but I begged and begged until she agreed to give me a few hours at least. She didn’t say anything about the fact that we’d been partying in the woods instead of at Lucas’s house like I’d told her. I was grateful for that.

I can’t stop thinking about her face. Her perfect face.

Once Lucas had put out the flames with a blanket, none of us knew what to do next. Sasha kept screaming and there was nothing we could do to make her stop.
Lucas was the only one who was any use. He told Bugs to find some water, then he poured it on her face. I had no idea if this was the right thing to do, but he seemed so confident, so calm.

There was only one bottle of water; everything else was spirits. Whenever anyone in our family has even the tiniest burn or scald, Mum makes us hold it under the cold tap for at least ten minutes. I don’t know what difference it makes, but she’s adamant about it. So what good could one measly bottle of water possibly do? We’d have been better off chucking Sasha in the river.

When the paramedics eventually arrived, they stabilized Sasha before taking her away on a stretcher. Lucas followed closely behind. My feet just kept moving, pulling me in the direction of the hospital even though I would have given anything to be somewhere else. Bugs didn’t say a word to me on the way there. He walked a couple of steps in front of me the whole time. Or maybe I walked a couple of steps behind him. I didn’t even notice Stu wasn’t with us until the automatic doors at A&E closed behind us.

Her perfect face. Red raw, eyelids swelling shut. Eyelashes and eyebrows singed to nothing.

She didn’t even have a chance to put her hands out to break her fall.

Her perfect face.

Ruined.

I’m sitting with my head in my hands when I hear a voice I haven’t heard in months. ‘Jem? Is that you?’

I say a startled hi, then ask her what she’s doing here, which is the stupidest question imaginable because I know exactly what she’s doing here. ‘I work here, love. Remember?’ Kai’s mum is looking at me like I’m deranged. She sits down next to me on a tatty plastic chair. ‘Is that girl – Sasha, is it? – a friend of yours?’

I nod. And I realize that it’s true: Sasha is a friend of mine. Or was, might have been, could have been.

‘It’s a terrible thing … were you there when it happened?’ Another nod from me and she puts her hand on my arm. ‘Oh, you poor love! You’ve been through so much.’

I don’t deserve her pity, but I stay silent.

‘She’s getting the best possible care, you know. You really mustn’t worry. Listen, I clock off in a few
minutes. How about I give you a lift home? You look exhausted … and there’s nothing you can do here.’

I finally meet her eye and it’s all I can do not to fall into her arms sobbing. I look away fast before that happens. ‘Thank you, but I’d like to stay here. Until they move her. I just feel like I should
be
here, you know? In case …’

‘Oh, Jem. You have to stay positive, OK? If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past year, it’s that you
have
to stay positive.’ Her voice wavers but doesn’t crack. ‘We’ve missed you, Jem. No, no, you don’t need to say anything, I understand how painful it must be for you. But you’re always welcome in our house, I want you to know that. I meant what I said at the funeral … you’re like a second daughter to me. So if you ever need someone to talk to – about anything – you need to know I’m here … and since my own daughter barely speaks to me any more, God knows I could do with the company.’ I smile awkwardly, not a clue what to say. ‘Thank goodness Louise wasn’t with you girls tonight … the thought of losing her too … doesn’t bear thinking about. Not that your friend’s going to … I’m sorry, I’m exhausted. I’ll leave you in peace.’ She hugs me and her shoulder blades feel all bony. She was always skinny, but now she’s skeletal.

I wonder where she thinks Louise was tonight. And I wonder where Louise is now. I should call her, I know that. She needs to know what’s happened. I already tried calling Amber, but she must have left her phone in the cloakroom at Espionage. Maybe Lucas has already called Louise; there’s no way I can ask him.

I should go home. There’s no reason for me to be here. Sasha wouldn’t want me here. But the thought of going over and over things with Mum and Dad is more than I can cope with. And I want to wait in case there’s news.

I text Lucas:
I’ll be in the canteen in case you hear anything.

I don’t expect a reply and I don’t get one.

Half an hour later I’m in the canteen, sitting in the corner furthest from the door. The only other people here are a man with a mop, who has done precisely no mopping since I arrived, and a forty-something female doctor who looks like she might be trying to chat up the hot young guy she’s sitting opposite. He looks interested – knackered, but interested.

I’m drinking a carton of orange juice – the kind I used to have in my packed lunch when I was ten. It feels sour and wrong in my stomach, but I keep sucking
juice through the tiny straw just for something to do. The straw is making loud gurgling noises, trying to suck up every last drop of juice, when he comes in.

He looks wrecked. Like he’s been through the spin cycle in a washing machine a couple of times. When he’s close enough for me to see that his eyes are red my entire body floods with panic. I feel it through my whole body, right to my fingertips. She’s dead. I’m sure of it.

I put my hands flat on the table to steady myself. The nail varnish is chipped already. Sasha told me it would last for days when she was painting my nails. She was wearing the same shade. It’s her favourite colour. A deep red so dark it’s almost black.

‘Is she … ?’

He slumps into the chair opposite me. ‘She’s gone.’ He sees my reaction and says, ‘No! They’ve taken her in the ambulance. She’s not …’

The adrenaline doesn’t dissipate, in spite of the immense relief. ‘What do the doctors say?’

‘What do you care?’ The anger’s there, bubbling beneath the surface – I can see that, but his tone is measured.

‘I care.’ And it’s true. Possibly the most honest thing I’ve said in a long time.

‘Do you?’

‘Of course I care, Lucas.’ He shakes his head and stares out the window. Except it’s dark outside and light inside, so he’s actually staring at a reflection of us sitting at this table in this depressing place. ‘She’s not … going to die, is she?’

‘They don’t think so. But it’s serious – really serious. Her face …’ He shakes his head again. I’m pretty sure we’re both thinking about how beautiful she is. Was.

‘But they can do amazing things these days, can’t they? The doctors, I mean? I saw this programme …’ I sound like a child.

‘It’s bad, Jem.’ Is there a note of pity in his voice or am I imagining it? I must be imagining it.

‘This is all my fault.’ The very act of voicing what he must be thinking makes me feel a little better somehow.

He says nothing. Clenches his fist.

‘I’m sorry, Lucas.’ I make a move to reach across the table to touch his hand, but then I realize what I’m doing. The space between us couldn’t be any wider.

‘What for? The accident? The graffiti? The magazines? Being a complete bitch to Sasha?’

‘All of the above?’ He doesn’t crack a smile at my attempt to lighten the mood. ‘And I’m sorry for how I treated
you
.’

‘Are you going to tell me why? Because I can’t even begin to guess … it makes
no
sense. Bugs, Sasha, even Stu in his own way, I guess … they’ve been nothing but nice to you. Especially Sasha. And I … well, you know exactly how I feel about you.’

My heart does a little leap at the word ‘feel’, even though deep down I know he means ‘felt’. Because there’s no way. There’s just no way.

There’s no reason to lie any more. I’ve been keeping this secret so long, so deeply hidden inside me, that it takes a moment or two for me to find the words and when I do they’re not even the right ones – not exactly. ‘I did it for Kai.’

‘
What?!
’ Too loud. The guy with the mop turns to see what’s going on. Lucas doesn’t notice because he’s too busy looking at me like I’m deranged.

I wait until the mop guy has turned his attention back to page three of
The Sun
, then I lean towards Lucas and lower my voice. ‘The video?’

Lucas shakes his head again. He’s doing a lot of that. ‘What video? You mean, the one where he …’

‘What other video
is
there?!’ My anger seems to have returned from nowhere.

‘I don’t understand. What’s that got to do with us lot? With me?’

Now it’s my turn to shake my head. ‘Lucas, come
on.’ I’m not going to forgive him if he admits it now, but I’ll feel a whole lot more charitable if he doesn’t make me drag it out of him.

‘What are you getting at? Wait … you don’t think we … ?’ My facial expression makes it abundantly clear that this is
exactly
what I think. ‘Why the hell would you think that? Jesus, Jem. I would never do something like that. You know that. You know
me
.’ He’s doing a really good job of looking wounded.

I whisper fiercely, ‘I know it was you, so can you just cut the crap? So maybe it was Stu’s idea and he did all the dirty work, but you were involved, which makes you just as guilty as far as I’m concerned.’

He holds his hands up as if I’m pointing a gun at him. ‘Jem, I swear to you. It wasn’t us. Look at me, OK?’ I meet his eyes and I really look, and I know I’m terrible at this sort of thing but suddenly I’m not sure any more and … ‘What made you think it was us? Because it was at Max’s party?’

‘No … I … someone told me. And as soon as they did, it all made sense. Stu was pissed off that I wouldn’t have sex with him – wounded pride or whatever – and everyone knew me and Kai were best friends, so he went after Kai to get back at me. Fucking cowardly bastard. And I
saw
you and Bugs taking the piss, pretending to be gay or whatever.’ I
don’t mention the fact that I saw Stu on his phone too, because suddenly that little bit of evidence doesn’t seem as convincing as it did before. Suddenly
none
of it seems quite as convincing as it did before.

He’s looking at me like I’m crazy. ‘What are you even
talking
about? I can’t believe you thought I’d be involved with something like that. Why didn’t you just
ask
me, if you were so sure it was true?’

‘Yeah, cos that would have really worked. None of you even knew I
existed
a year ago. And like you’d have admitted it
anyway
!’

‘Of course I wouldn’t have admitted it! It’s not bloody true! So all this was just … what, exactly?’