I found the knife again and a collection of other stuff, all a bit random, to be honest. I had no idea why I was quite so jittery. Some sticks of incense and a pottery incense burner. Candles, two white and two black. An old-fashioned cup that looked like the sort of thing priests use in churches, made of pewter. I’d seen those things in Dead Bouquet, although I’d never seen Zoe buy one. Some thick, creamy-coloured paper, in a roll, tied with a black ribbon. And there was an old biscuit tin with sticky tape round the lid. It was really heavy. I gave it a gentle shake, but I couldn’t work out what was in there, except that it was something heavy, fairly solid. I started to pick at the tape with my nails and pulled it all off in a satisfying long strip.
I was just prizing the lid open when the bedroom door opened and I jumped, dropping the tin on to the floor, where it fell open with a clatter and suddenly my bedroom floor was covered in soil and dirt. Zoe, who’d just come in, gave a little shriek. ‘Careful!’
‘What the -?’ I asked her. I pointed at all the soil and earth on the carpet. ‘Look at this! Why the hell are you carrying a tin of soil around?’
Zoe put her hand over her mouth. ‘Sorry, I should’ve warned you about that.’ She bent down and started scooping the soil up and trying to drop it back into the tin.
‘Hang on,’ I said and ran downstairs to grab the hoover. Mum looked dangerously close to asking questions as I started carrying it upstairs. ‘We, er, just spilled some – something,’ I mumbled.
I pushed open the bedroom door. ‘Here,’ I said. ‘This will be quicker.’
‘No,’ Zoe said, her voice a little high-pitched. ‘You can’t hoover this up. It’s special – it’s earth from a graveyard.’
‘What?’
She looked up at me, her hands grubby from picking up handfuls of soil. For a second or two I just stared at her, my mouth open. Then, I don’t know why, I started to laugh. So did Zoe.
‘Seriously,’ I said. ‘Why have I got half a graveyard on my bedroom floor?’
The room smelled of soil. A sad smell.
‘Because you’re a klutz,’ said Zoe, still kneeling and scraping the dirt back into her tin.
I stretched out my leg and nudged her with my toe. ‘Why have you got it in the first place, you mad thing?’
‘We need it. For summoning spirits and doing rituals.’
I squinted at her. ‘Are you serious? Tell me this is a joke.’
Zoe gave me a look that said she wasn’t kidding. Then my stomach flipped. ‘Oh my god – that skull?’
Zoe made a spluttering noise. ‘That’s made of resin, stupid. You didn’t think it was real?’
‘Well, I –’
‘And where would I get a real skull from?’ Zoe sat back on her heels.
I folded my arms. ‘Digging in a graveyard?’
Zoe paused for a second and then we both started to giggle again.
‘No, but, Zoe, this soil – it’s a bit weird, isn’t it? How did you get it?’
‘How do you think?’ Zoe grinned. ‘Digging in a cemetery, like you said. The one round the corner from Scrogg’s Field.’
Scrogg’s Field was behind the high-rise flats. It was another place no one with any sense went near in the dark.
‘How did no one stop you?’ I asked.
‘They did.’ Zoe looked shifty. ‘A woman asked me what I was doing. I said I was going to plant a bush on my granny’s grave. I said I needed to see what kind of soil it was. She left me alone after that.’
‘I can’t believe you did that,’ I said. ‘That took some nerve. If someone had caught me I’d have been mortified.’
‘That’s why I didn’t ask you to come with me,’ Zoe said, pressing the lid back down on the tin.
‘Right.’ I looked at the bag. ‘What about all this other stuff?’
‘You can get it all online. Pretty cheap, too. Well, most of it is. The chalice was expensive.’ The chalice was the fancy cup, she said.
‘How did you get the money?’
Zoe looked at her hands and flicked away some dirt. ‘I had a birthday, remember?’
I frowned at her. This birthday money seemed to be lasting forever, but Zoe never said who’d actually given her all this cash. I blinked and shook my head: I decided I didn’t really want to know.
My mum asked Zoe if she wanted her to walk home with her, just to make sure she was OK. Outside, there was a blustery, bullying wind, and more rain. Zoe wouldn’t have it, though. ‘It’s fine, Mrs Ellis, really. I’m a big girl.’
‘I know that. I’d just hate anything to happen to you.’ My mum is a bit of a fretter. ‘I’m sure your mum would feel the same if Anna was walking home from your house.’
Zoe looked doubtful. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll text Anna as soon as I get back.’
And she did. I sat with Mum watching a bit of bad TV and after a few minutes my phone bleeped. Home safe n sound. Tell yr lovely mum. I held the message up and Mum smiled.
‘Is Zoe –’ Mum stopped and stared into her mug of tea.
I looked at her. ‘What?’
‘Is she quite all right?’
I screwed my face up at Mum. ‘What do you mean, is she quite all right? What does that mean?’
Mum shook her head. ‘I don’t really know, Anna. But there’s something about that girl. She seems very –’ Mum stopped again.
‘Very what?’
‘Sort of sad.’
I made another face. ‘I don’t think so, Mum. No.’
Mum pressed her lips together. ‘It’s like she’s about to snap. About to break into little bits.’
I put my mug down. ‘I don’t know what you mean. But I think you’re wrong, anyway. Zoe is as tough as anything. It’s one of the reasons why I like her.’
Mum shrugged. ‘If you say so.’
I kept Mum talking as long as I
