Eighteen Kisses

‘Did you… did you see anything when you were up there? Do you know what might have happened to her?’ she asked.

‘Well, I don’t really work like that. It’ll probably be a while before I have anything to report.’

‘Oh yeah, of course. Sorry,’ she said. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’

‘Actually, do you have something of Kayla’s that I could borrow?’ I said. ‘A piece of jewellery, maybe? It might help me connect with her more easily.’ I wanted to take Ger’s advice and ask, even if she refused.

‘Yeah, of course, wait there and I’ll get you something. I’m sure Anna won’t mind if it’s going to help find her.’ I was so relieved she’d said yes.

As I waited in the kitchen, I looked down at the refill pad on the table. The pages were filled with notes, and in the margins were doodles of hearts everywhere – big hearts, tiny hearts, hearts with arrows through them and hearts broken in two.

‘Here you go,’ said Libby, handing me a necklace with a silver star-shaped pendant. ‘It was one of her favourites. She used to wear it a lot.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, popping it into my bag. ‘I’ll make sure to bring it back when I’m finished.’

‘No problem. Thanks for calling over. Like I said, we really appreciate it.’ Libby led me to the door and I said goodbye. I wasn’t sorry to be leaving – I could sense the sadness in every corner of that house.

I walked up the road, taking a look back before I turned the corner. Libby waved from the doorway, where she stood holding her mobile and smoking a cigarette. I took the list out of my bag along with a pen, and put a tick beside her name. One down, seven to go.

Chapter 6

‘Hello, love,’ said Gran as I came into the kitchen. ‘Have fun at Hannah’s?’ She gave me a warm smile.

‘Yep,’ I said. Since she just assumed that’s where I’d been, I didn’t correct her.

I was so tired, as my visit to Kayla’s had been very draining, but when I sat down at the table I instantly felt better. It was good to be back here. I’d spent so much time in this terraced house over the years that it felt like a second home. I especially liked the kitchen, with its blue cabinets and collectable biscuit tins on the counter. And I loved how Gran was so nice to me, always stocking up on food I like and giving me pocket money and buying me stuff.

‘I’m going to Bridge in a few minutes,’ she said. ‘You can come with me if you like.’

‘Nah, I’ll just stay here,’ I said. ‘Have an early night.’

That actually wasn’t a lie. I hadn’t dreamed about Kayla since last Sunday, but I assumed that was because I’d been sleeping in Avarna. Now that I was back in Dublin, where Kayla was from, I expected to dream about her. I expected to dream about her every night for the foreseeable future. I was going to get to sleep early because I wanted to experience the entire thing, uninterrupted. I also thought that if I went to bed early I might get some restful, dream-free sleep before it kicked in. I didn’t want to look tired on my first day at the magazine.

‘OK,’ said Gran. ‘Well, there’s a pepperoni pizza for you, if you fancy it. I better get going.’

She kissed me on the cheek and I got the familiar smell of her expensive moisturiser. She used to let me put on a tiny bit when I was younger, and then I’d climb into her bed and watch the countdown on MTV while she read. When I fell asleep, my grandad would carry me into my own room and kiss me on the forehead before he left.

‘I really like your hair like that,’ she said as she went out of the door.

‘Thanks, Gran!’ I said. I liked my new hair too, mainly because it helped me look older than I was.

She left, and the silence that descended on the house made me feel kind of uneasy. My grandad died three years ago, and since then my gran had got involved in lots of things – volunteering in a local charity shop and taking up new hobbies. I think it helped her cope, helped fill the silence.

I took the star-shaped necklace from my satchel and put it on the table. I wondered if it would help me to connect with Kayla. Last summer, after I’d found Beth’s bag, things had started to happen more quickly. I agreed with Ger, and sensed that it would be useful to have something of Kayla’s to keep close to me.

After I’d finished my dinner I watched some TV, then headed up to bed. I like the spare room in Gran’s house. It used to be Mum’s, and when we both stay over she gets to have it, but when she’s not there then it’s all mine. It has a wooden floor and pink wallpaper. The dresser drawers are lined with scented paper and there’s an old rocking chair in the corner. It reminds me of the carefree days when I used to stay over and spend all day playing with Gran.

I unpacked the last of my stuff, including my copy of Mastering Psychic Protection – the book that Ger had advised me to read. This time I was going to be prepared. I wasn’t going to let headaches or panic attacks slow me down. I read some pages, but it was written in very old, complicated language and I was quite tired, so I decided to leave it for another day. I’d make sure to do what Ger had suggested though, and imagine a white light round me, protecting every part of my body. Lying there in bed, I couldn’t quite shake the uneasy feeling I’d had since going to Kayla’s house. Without really thinking, I leaned over, picked up my mobile and rang Nick’s number. I just wanted to hear his voice – someone comforting and familiar.

‘Hey,’ he said.

‘Hi! How are you?’

‘Good,’ he said, his voice suggesting that he wasn’t.

‘How was practice?’ I asked, trying to sound upbeat, even though there was obviously something wrong.

‘Fine.’

I sighed. The upbeat thing obviously wasn’t working. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Yeah. Why?’

‘You seem a bit annoyed.’

‘I’m fine,’ he said tightly. ‘I just don’t think we need to talk every night, you know? I’m kind of tired.’

‘Oh, right, yeah… sorry,’ I said, a little bit shocked.

‘Night.’

‘Night.’

He hung up and I got a sinking feeling in my stomach, that emptiness I felt when he did stuff like that. He’s just upset, I told myself. He’s just upset because I’m missing his gig. I looked down at the guitar bracelet on my wrist – a reminder that he obviously still loved me. I shouldn’t be so sensitive. It was fine and he was right, we didn’t need to talk every night. But still, I knew I wouldn’t have said something like that. I could feel the anger rising inside me. I snatched my phone off the locker and texted him.

There’s no need to be so moody.

I didn’t regret sending it, I wanted him to know I was annoyed. I waited a few minutes, but there was no reply, no apology, no nothing. I slammed the phone down, got under my duvet and closed my eyes.

The dream was the exact same – the car, the covered-up number plate, the stilettos, the rain. We followed the man in the balaclava, over the low stone wall, but this time I wasn’t staring at the arm because I’d noticed something in his back pocket. A Polaroid photo – the same one from the file. He had an invitation to the party.

The surroundings suddenly switched, and once again we were standing beside the barbed-wire fence.

‘Where’d he go?’ I asked. She didn’t reply. She smiled and completely ignored the question, as if I’d never said it. I squinted my eyes, searching for him in the distance, but all I saw was blackness.

‘Let me take your picture,’ she said. She held up the Polaroid camera and once again the flash blinded me, sending little coloured dots dancing in front of my eyes. I looked around, searching for some landmark, anything that would help me to figure out where we were. I saw a tree to our right, its branches all twisted and bare as if it had been struck by lightning. Wild red roses were growing in the hedges either side of it. The sharp pointed edges of a barbed-wire fence glinted in the moonlight.

She held the photograph out to me. I leaned over to look at it, but to my surprise, I wasn’t in it. Instead it was a picture of the man in the balaclava, his brown eyes staring straight at the camera. I gasped and stumbled backwards, narrowly missing the barbed-wire fence.

‘Careful,’ she said. ‘You’re standing on my grave.’

I woke up with a jolt, sweating and shaking, taking in gulps of air, as if I might stop breathing altogether. There