He's After Me

Chapter NINE



At home, Livi is busy getting ready for a night out. St Wilfred’s Big Party Night. Highlight of the social calendar, if you’re between the ages of eleven and fourteen. Actually, I’m surprised that Livi is so up for it; I thought she was way too cool for school.

But it turns out it’s a special charity night, a bit like a prom, with prizes for best-dressed couple, most popular couple, freakiest couple, etc. Needless to say, Ferret is her date for the evening, so I point out to her that they have a good chance of winning the last one, but she thinks I’m joking.

‘Best-dressed for us,’ she says, ‘every time!’

She does look gorgeous in a typically over-the-top way for what is, when all is said and done, a school disco. She’s wearing a red dress that clings to her amazing figure but stops just short of looking tarty. I’ll say one thing for my kid sister, for her age she has style. She’s spent a long time on her hair and make-up, you can tell. Which is why I’m kind of surprised by her choice of footwear.

‘You need heels with that outfit,’ I say as she wriggles her feet into her pumps.

‘Nah, it’s OK, I want to dance.’

I stare at her in disbelief. This is Olivia talking, who wore her six-inch heels all through summer until her feet bled and Mum donated them to Oxfam. Then the light dawns. ‘Oh, I get it …’

She frowns and ignores me, but we both know what I mean. Ferret isn’t that tall. In her heels she’d tower over him. He wouldn’t like that, would he?

Catch me ever changing my appearance for the sake of some guy’s ego.

Mum shakes her head at me imperceptibly to deflect a row. ‘What time is Steven coming to pick you up?’

‘Um …’ Livi looks uncertain. ‘Not sure. I think I might be meeting him there.’ She grabs her phone and dashes off to put a search out on his whereabouts.

‘He can’t even be arsed to come and get her,’ I say in disgust.

Mum sighs. ‘Not all men are as nice as Jem. Give him a chance, Anna. He’s just a boy.’

‘He’s a little rat,’ I say. And two minutes later, when Livi rushes off all in a dither because, even though she can’t locate him, she doesn’t want to keep him waiting, Mum looks as if she might agree with me for once.

I settle down when she’s gone and start making inroads into my college work. I’m more behind than I thought. It’s piled up over the past few weeks since I’ve been spending so much time with Jem. I can’t blame him, it’s my choice, but I need to get back down to it if I want to get into Newcastle.

Out in the hall, the phone rings. I can hear Mum jabbering away, then she sticks her head around the door.

‘I’m going over to Karen’s. She’s a bit upset.’

Karen, who works with Mum, is always upset. She’s going through a messy divorce at the moment and she and Mum are ‘there’ for each other. Which means the pair of them meet up constantly to drown their sorrows over medicinal bottles of dry white wine.

I move on to Sociology. An essay is overdue. I’ve never been behind with my work before. I put everything else firmly out of my mind and buckle down to it.

Two hours and five pages later, I’m concentrating so hard that I jump when my phone rings. It’s got to be Jem.

But I’m wrong.

On the end of the phone, someone is crying. Loud, ugly, racking sobs, like a soul in torment. It’s one of the scariest sounds I’ve ever heard in my life and totally freaks me out.

‘Who is this?’

‘An-na?’ My name is a choked, broken whisper.

Livi!

‘Livi, what is it? Answer me. Tell me what’s wrong.’

I’ll kill him. I’ll kill if he’s done something to her. I’ll strangle him with my bare hands.

‘What’s happened? Livi, stop crying. Tell me!’

She’s been in a fight. I can’t believe it. And come off the loser, by the sound of it.

‘Where are you?’

‘Outside school.’

‘Who are you with?’

‘No-bo-dy!’ The wails start up again.

‘Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you, right this minute. Don’t move, Livi. I’m on my way.’

I grab my coat and make for the door, wondering if I should leave a note for Mum to say where I’ve gone. No, too complicated, it will only worry the life out of her.

Outside, the night is wild. Rain sleets down on me as I make my way towards the taxi-rank on the main street. In ten minutes we draw up outside the school. I have just enough money in my pocket to pay the taxi-driver. I make a bee-line for reception, ablaze with lights, but then hear my name being called from the shadows of the car park.

‘Anna?’

‘Livi?’

My sister emerges into the light. She’s a wreck. Her hair is a mess, her nose is bleeding and black mascara tracks run down her face. The classy new dress has been torn at the shoulder and the hem is hanging down. She’s sobbing, fit to burst.

I fling my arms around her. ‘Who did this to you?’

‘Cora.’

I remember Cora Pugh when she started at St Wilfred’s. She was a mean, hard-faced cow, even in Year 7.

‘I’ll slaughter her! Where is she? She’s not going to get away with this. I’ll report her. I’ll tell the Head. Come with me … !’ I grab hold of Livi, furious, but she resists.

‘No, Anna. Leave it there.’

‘She attacked you, Livi!’

‘No. It was me. I started it.’

‘What?’ I stare at my sister aghast. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I started it,’ she repeats. ‘It was all my fault.’