‘Bollocks,’ she announced to no one. ‘I’m totally screwed.’
In the end, she decided the biggest worry was an English essay for Isabelle’s class – twelve hundred words on the Romantics in Italy due the next day. Allie hadn’t read a single page of the assigned work.
She was flipping worriedly through her English textbook when someone knocked at her door.
‘Come in,’ she said without looking up.
‘Hey, Al… lie.’ Rachel’s voice trailed off as she walked in, her eyes widening at the scene in front of her. ‘Yowza. That is, like, a whole tree on your floor.’
‘Help.’ Allie waved her assignment at her. ‘What do you know about the Romantics in Italy?’
‘That depends. In Tuscany?’ Rachel walked the rest of the way in, closing the door behind her. ‘Or in Rome?’
Allie gave her a desperate look. ‘They went to more than one place?’
Without replying, Rachel held out her hand. Allie gave her the paper and she scanned it quickly. ‘I did this one already so, let’s see…’ Looking through the books on Allie’s shelves, Rachel pulled out a slim volume. ‘This is what I used. Chapter eight has everything. Read that and you can write up a basic essay – quote some Shelley poems to take up space. That man liked the sound of his own voice. Check it out.’
Holding up the book in one hand, she intoned with great drama:
‘Let a vast assembly be,
And with great solemnity
Declare with measured words that ye
Are, as God has made ye, free…’
Allie held out her hand for the book. ‘Rachel, God has made ye a life-saver.’
‘That’s what they tell me.’ Rachel’s smile was steady but Allie knew her well enough to see the hint of uncertainty behind it.
Still, she reassured herself, at least the smile happened.
A sudden silence fell. Allie flipped through the papers trying to think of something to say but Rachel filled the conversational gap. ‘Did Jerry tell you I’m your chemistry teacher now?’
Allie tried to affect cool. ‘Don’t think this means I’m your bitch. I’m still a free woman.’
Rachel grinned, genuinely this time. ‘Oh really? Who’s your daddy?’
‘Wait…’ Allie swung cautiously back into the rhythm of their rapid-fire rapport, although it felt creaky after so long away. ‘Are you saying my new daddy is a girl named Rachel? When I write a memoir I’m calling it “Allie Has Two Daddies and One of Them Is Rachel”.’
‘You will sell a million copies and I will be famous. I’ll accept a percentage.’ Rachel rubbed her hands gleefully. ‘So, should we start suffering… I mean working tonight? An hour of science torture will be good for you.’
The banter made Allie feel almost normal. Like she had her friend back.
‘Do I have a choice?’
‘No.’ Rachel walked to the door. ‘See you at dinner, minion. Where you can peel my grapes.’
EIGHT
‘A
llie, help me! Oh God. Please help me…’ In the darkness, Jo’s terrified voice sailed eerily on the breeze that rattled the tree branches above Allie’s head.
Each word cut Allie like a blade. Panicked and desperate, she ran left, then right, then left again. But the voice never seemed to get any closer and it was getting harder to breathe. Her chest felt as if it was wrapped in bands of iron, inexorably tightening.
Trying to summon the breath to speak, she panted harshly.
‘I can’t find you, Jo!’ she called weakly. ‘Where are you?’
‘Allie!’ For some reason the hope in Jo’s voice broke her heart. ‘Help me! Please!’
A sob tore Allie’s throat as she ran. Trees that seemed to swoop down to snatch at her clothes with branches that ended in sharp points, like long, jagged nails. She ignored the pain. She had to find Jo. If she could just get to her in time, she’d live.
She was exhausted by the time she saw Jo in the distance, lying on her back in a grove of trees, blonde hair glowing around her head like a halo. Her cornflower blue eyes stared up at the sky, unseeing.
Dropping to her knees, Allie reached for her slim hand. ‘I’m here, Jo. I’m here.’
Jo’s breath rattled in her throat. As she turned to look at Allie her blue eyes clouded over and turned white.
‘Too late, Allie,’ she said bitterly. ‘You’re too late. I’m already dead. And it’s your fault.’
Looking down, Allie realised she held the hand of a corpse – Jo’s fingers were blue and cold, lifeless.
She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out…
Gasping for air, Allie sat bolt upright. Sweat streamed down her face as she searched the dark room with terrified eyes. She scrambled back in the bed like a cornered animal until she huddled against the headboard, trembling.
Strangled breaths burned her throat. Her heart thudded in her ears.
It was just that dream again. I’m in my room, she told herself. I’m in my room and I’m safe and everything’s OK. Everything’s OK. Everything’s OK. Everything’s OK. Everything’s OK…