Angel Kiss

Colin read the page again. It felt like an eternity until he finally spoke.

‘I do believe it,’ he said.

‘Really?’ This totally took me by surprise.

‘Yes. I know you well enough by now, Jacki. If you say this is happening, then I believe you.’

‘Thanks. That means a lot.’

‘I’ll try to help you any way I can.’

I was almost crying with relief. Colin could sense this, so he tried to lighten the mood a bit.

‘I can be your sidekick!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’m cute, I’m funny… I’d be perfect for it! What do you think?’

‘I’m just glad you don’t think I’m mental,’ I said with a sniff. ‘But don’t tell anyone else, OK? Can we just keep this between us?’

‘I won’t tell anybody. I promise.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, wiping my eyes.

We sat in silence for a few moments. I had to stop crying in front of people. It was becoming too much of a habit.

‘Anyway… on a lighter note,’ said Colin. ‘Emily is having some people over to her house this evening. She lives a good bit outside the village, so I’ll get Mam to drop us if you want to come.’

‘Sorry, Colin… I can’t.’

‘Don’t be silly. You’re coming to Emily’s.’

‘No, I’m not. I can’t face Nick. Not yet. See, he isn’t just some guy… I’m crazy about him. I can’t stop thinking about him. It really hurts.’ I hated the thought of having to sit across from Nick while he ignored me or, even worse, tried to force an explanation out of me.

‘I didn’t realize you liked him that much,’ said Colin. ‘But don’t worry – he won’t be there. It’s a girls’ night in.’

‘But you’re going?’

‘Obviously,’ said Colin with a smile. ‘And so are you, even if I have to kidnap you and drag you there myself.’

‘I’m really sorry… but I don’t feel like going anywhere.’

‘But Emily’s dad is an expert on local history. He wrote a book about Avarna a few years ago. Maybe he’ll have some info on Jane. I’m sure he’ll be there tonight.’

I thought about it for a moment. To my surprise, my sense of duty to Jane was just enough to sway me.

‘Fine, I’ll go then,’ I said. ‘But only for a little while.’

I was actually a little excited that Emily’s dad was a historian. If there was someone called Jane from Avarna who had been murdered, then he’d surely know about it.

I went to meet Mum for lunch in the Cupcake Cafe. I was early so I thought I’d use a computer for a while. Mary was sitting at one of the tables with her eight-year-old daughter, Rosie, who I’d heard all about on one of my visits to the shop. I smiled at them as I walked towards the bathroom. I wanted to see if Jane would come back.

I stood behind the door, whispering her name over and over. Deep down I knew she wasn’t coming back. Not yet anyway. The eerie sensation of the other day just wasn’t there any more. I hated the thought of her being stuck in that in-between stage, slipping back and forth between this world and whatever was waiting for her in the next. I wanted her to come back. I wanted to tell her that I was going to find out who’d murdered her, no matter how long it took. I tried to imagine her, tried to remember even the slightest detail from our encounter. She had black hair – that’s all I knew.

I eventually gave up, but there was still no sign of Mum so I logged on to a computer. I searched jane murdered avarna and all its variations but found nothing. I wasn’t too disappointed though. I was hopeful that Emily’s dad would be able to give me some information, or at least point me in the right direction.

So I just messed around for a bit. Emily had uploaded pictures from the gig in Sligo the night before. I clicked through the photos, smiling at the ones of Emily and the lads pulling stupid faces. But I didn’t smile at the next one. I recognized his red hoodie immediately. There he was… eating the face off some blonde girl. She was wearing a slutty belly-top and his hands were all over her.

I felt sick… so confused, jealous, angry. I logged off and just needed to get out of there.

‘Ali, if you see my mum would you mind telling her that I had to leave early? Thanks,’ I said, before hurrying out of the cafe, slamming the door behind me. I was definitely forgetting about him now.

As I hurried home, I felt angry and upset, but at the same time I felt a strange sense of relief. Nick had found someone else. I could forget about him now. I could stop thinking about him all the time. I could stop obsessing about how I was going to explain myself to him. This was exactly what I needed. I didn’t need anything distracting me from my duty to Jane. Being crazy about someone was a distraction. A horrible, unhealthy distraction. I was done with boys. It always, always ended badly. I didn’t need them in my life. Or else, I’d keep them there, but never get attached. I’d be like Hannah: always the dumper, never the dumpee. Always the one to turn them down, never the one sitting staring at the phone, waiting for them to text. I’d be the one who’d forget to text them back. I’d be the one who forgot their birthdays, forgot their numbers, forgot their names even. I picked a yellow flower from the ditch and ripped off the petals one by one. I don’t love him. I don’t love him. I don’t love him. Unfortunately, with every petal plucked, my initial rage started to dwindle. And it was just replaced with hurt. But the thought of Nick with that girl was enough to at least dull my obsession. Although I knew I wasn’t going to be able to forget about him, I was at least going to try.

Chapter 15

I spent that evening in the caravan making flyers. I wanted Mum to think I was at least interested in finding something to do for the summer. Besides, I could really have done with the extra cash. Freelance ghost whispering wasn’t proving the most lucrative occupation. And I needed to keep my mind as far away as possible from you know who. I finally finished the flyers, managing to get glitter-glue everywhere in the process.

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My phone buzzed. It was such a rare occurrence in the caravan that it made me jump. The one bar of coverage that came and went must have decided to come back. It was a message from Emily, asking if I wanted to sleep at her house tonight, as a few of the girls from St Mary’s were staying over. Maybe I could talk to her about that photo of Nick. But I decided that dwelling on it would do no good whatsoever. Plus she would want to know the whole story about what had happened in the bedroom, and I couldn’t tell her that. I was excited about getting to know my new schoolmates, but wondered if Mum would let me sleep there. Ever since I’d disguised staying at Cian’s as an all-night birthday celebration at Hannah’s, Mum had been extremely wary of sleepovers.

‘Mum, can I stay over at Emily’s? It’s just the girls staying over. And her parents will be there and -’

‘No problem,’ said Mum. ‘You enjoy yourself.’

What? No request for Emily’s exact address? No demand to ring her parents to check everything was above board? Maybe now that I was nearly sixteen she had more faith in me.

I heard a car drive in and looked out the window. It wasn’t a car. It was a van. A familiar van. Now I knew why Mum was so happy to be rid of me for the night. Ew.

‘I’m not a taxi service,’ said Brigid, picking up the stick of glue and pasting another photograph on to the giant collage. Lydia flicked through one of the photo albums from the stack on the table, choosing the occasional picture that was worthy of inclusion in the collage to be displayed at Mary’s fiftieth birthday party. She was wearing an awesome pink mini-dress and bright red boots. Those colours really shouldn’t have worked together, but they did on Lydia.

‘Emily’s house is so far away,’ said Colin. ‘And it’s lashing rain.’

‘It’s drizzling,’ said Brigid. ‘Why do you always have to be so dramatic?’