Angel Kiss

‘I am not!’ said Colin, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

‘Look at this one!’ said Lydia, holding up a photograph of a couple kissing. The girl was wearing a yellow jacket with extreme shoulder pads and the guy was sporting some really severe sideburns.

‘Who’s that with Mary?’ asked Colin.

‘That’s Joe Clancy.’

‘No way!’ I said.

‘They used to go out,’ said Brigid. ‘Joe and Michael even had a fight over her out in the main street once. The entire village saw it.’

‘Maybe I should leave this one where it is,’ said Lydia, slotting the photograph back into the album.

Mary had been a pretty young woman, with rosy cheeks and long curly brown hair. If you ignored the dodgy fashion, she looked lovely in all the pictures.

‘Our mother always had a camera out,’ said Brigid. ‘There are probably more pictures of Mary here than in her own house.’

‘Right, enough with the trip down memory lane,’ said Colin. ‘We’re late.’

Brigid and Lydia pointed to the half-empty bottle of wine on the table. ‘We couldn’t drop you even if we wanted to,’ said Brigid.

Colin rolled his eyes and took out his phone.

‘I’ll see how Carla’s getting there,’ he said as he began scrolling through his phonebook. I didn’t know David’s sister was a friend of Emily’s – she seemed much younger. I really hoped Amanda wasn’t going too. She was so irritating.

‘Hey,’ said Colin, ‘any chance we could get a lift to Emily’s with you? OK, cool. Thanks! Bye!’ He hung up. ‘Her dad’s taking us,’ said Colin. ‘They’ll be here in ten minutes.’

Peter Mulvey was pretty much what I expected from a high-flying business executive. He drove a flashy car, wore an expensive suit and kept his designer sunglasses on even at dusk. I sat in the passenger seat in silence while Carla and Colin chatted loudly in the back. It turned out Carla was on Emily’s hockey team, and thankfully hadn’t brought Amanda along.

‘Mary was telling me that your back garden is in a bit of a state?’ said Peter, eventually making conversation. ‘I know a very good waste-removal company that could help you with that.’

‘I think my mum’s got it sorted, thanks,’ I said. Despite my best efforts I couldn’t stop thinking about Nick. The thought of him with that girl made me sick. At least there was no chance of me having to see him tonight.

‘Find anything interesting?’ said Peter.

‘Sorry?’

‘In your garden. Mary was saying there were all sorts of things buried under there. Did you find anything interesting?’

‘No,’ I said, perhaps a little too abruptly. ‘Nothing at all. You don’t want to get too close to it anyway – it really smells.’ I felt dizzy again and my headache was coming back. I tried my best to ignore it, looking out the window as we sped past the fields.

Peter pulled up right to the door. I could see into the sitting room – there were lots of girls already there. Colin and I thanked Peter for the lift, then I grabbed my rucksack and stepped out into the rain.

‘Well now, let me see…’ said Emily’s dad, Henry. He was a small man with a balding head and huge glasses. ‘There have been five murders recorded in these parts since 1960. Kathleen Brogan, suffocated by her husband, Charles. Mary Hughes, hit over the head by a burglar, died instantly. Francis Quinn, shot in the back of the head while out hunting, and Poppy Gilleece, stabbed by her half-sister in a jealous rage. I explore all these murders in more detail in my book. There has been only one unsolved case – the murder of Beth Cullen.’ My heart sank as he continued. ‘I’m afraid, Colin, that an investigative project entitled Unsolved Murders in Avarna would leave you examining only one incident. Five is actually quite a high number of murders for a village area. There must be something in the water,’ he joked.

Emily dropped the remainder of a packet of marshmallows into a giant bowl and started to pour out ten mugs of hot chocolate. ‘Let’s hope not,’ she said.

‘I’ll have to advise you to pick another topic for your school history project,’ added Henry.

Colin nodded. ‘I think you’re right, thanks.’

‘Why are you talking about school?’ asked Emily.

‘I like to get started during the summer,’ said Colin. ‘I just can’t get enough of schoolwork!’ He sounded so convincing I almost believed him.

‘Hear that, Emily?’ said Henry. ‘Maybe you should put down those novels of yours and start doing your history project!’

‘Colin, I didn’t know you chose hist-’

‘I’ll help you with those,’ said Colin, taking the tray of mugs and signalling for her to keep quiet.

‘You are so strange,’ she muttered.

Emily’s friends were all very nice. I tried to memorize their names and join in the chatter, only occasionally letting my mind wander back to Nick. I wondered what he was doing tonight. Probably trying to figure out how he’d ever fancied such a complete nutter. He could think whatever he liked now though, I didn’t care. Well, I tried to convince myself that I didn’t.

By the end of the night I was no closer to finding out who Jane was, but, on the upside, I had got to know Emily’s friends. We stayed up until four o’clock, watching Gossip Girl reruns and eating chocolate ice cream. One of Emily’s best friends played drums, and she was thinking of getting a band together. School was just a few weeks away, but now it didn’t seem like such a major deal. The girls had advised me who to befriend and who to avoid, and told me which teachers were all right and which ones to watch out for. I wished that school was the only thing I had to worry about.

I had thought that perhaps sleeping in a different house would mean I’d be spared the nightmare. On the contrary, it had been exactly the same. The next morning, just like every morning, I woke up feeling as if I’d been in a fistfight, my head thumping and my body aching. I’d dreamed of the body pushing down on me, shoving my head into the cold ground, and bits of bark digging into my bare legs.

Back in the caravan, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the bathroom mirror and winced. I looked pale, not a stunning pale like Lydia, but a sickly pale. My face was drained. I picked up Mum’s blusher and dusted it on to my cheeks, giving them an artificial rosy glow. My eyeliner helped distract from the tired look in my eyes. There was one positive sign – the bruises had faded. They were hardly even visible now. They had served their purpose: Jane had got my attention. I had time to spare, time which I didn’t want to spend focusing on my mounting problems. I took out my guitar and began strumming and singing softly, each word of my song slowly pushing all the other stuff out of my head.

‘ Confusion is a lonely place;

I’m looking but can’t see her face.

She pulled me in and kept me close;

Her beauty is a troubled ghost.

All I saw was her and me;

We kept each other company,

Looking for the right way out.

She whispers but I wish she’d shout. ’

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I looked at the message. It was from Colin, and simply said JANE UPDATE. I texted back TELL ME! and waited a few moments for his reply. MY HOUSE. NOW.

I left the caravan so fast I didn’t even remember to take my iPod, and I always took that everywhere. I desperately wanted to find out what Colin knew. When I got to the guesthouse he was alone in the kitchen making coffee.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘You’re not going to believe this.’ He pointed to a note on the table in front of me.

The paper was pale pink. Probably from a cute little letter set, one that made you want to get a pen pal just so you could have an excuse to buy it. Little pink hearts formed a border round the page, although their colour had faded with time. The handwriting was small and neat.

I picked up the note and read it aloud.

Dear Audrey,