Zoe flopped onto the cushions on the floor. ‘Anna, something happened yesterday.’
She looked like someone had pricked her with a pin and let all her life out. ‘What’s up?’
Zoe started plaiting the ends of her long hair. ‘I got caught trying to nick something.’
My insides felt suddenly curdled. ‘Oh, god. You didn’t. Where? What happened?’
‘It was in the mall. It was just some stupid make-up. I didn’t even really need it. I thought I’d got away with it, because I’d walked quite a way from the shop and suddenly this horrible woman in a uniform got hold of my arm. They made me tip out my bag and pockets, in front of all these people who just stopped and watched. It was awful.’
I shuffled over to her and put my arms around her. ‘Poor you. Then what happened?’
‘They made me tell them where I lived and then they took me home. In a police car.’
I swore, in a whisper.
‘They told my mother what I’d done. That was awful. And then they gave me a caution because they said it was my first offence. But I’m banned from the shop.’
I gave her a hard hug. ‘I’m sorry. What did your mum say?’
Zoe leaned her head on my shoulder. ‘What do you think? She was furious, of course. She went up like a rocket as soon as the police had gone.’ Zoe almost never cried. But I could see her eyes were shining and wet and she blinked hard and sniffed.
I didn’t know what to say to make her feel better. We sat in silence for a while. It was dark outside and there were only her candles for light. Shadows loomed around Zoe like black, ragged birds. ‘I’m staying here tonight,’ Zoe said. ‘Any chance you could stay too?’
I thought about it. ‘It’d be tricky. My mum would ask a lot of awkward questions. Wouldn’t yours? ’Specially now?’
Zoe just sighed. ‘I’m trying to keep right out of her way.’
She stood up and started putting out all the equipment for another ritual. ‘I’m so glad I’ve got this place,’ she said, as I watched, not helping. Candles in position. Incense. Blood-smeared skull. Knife. Bowl of graveyard dirt. ‘It’s somewhere to hide. Somewhere for me. And you, of course.’
‘You need to watch out, though,’ I said. ‘Kerry’s not happy. She’s told Luke about this place. If we keep pushing her away, I reckon she’ll cause trouble for us.’
Zoe made a face. ‘I really don’t care about Kerry. Let her do her worst.’
Zoe pulled out the rolled-up piece of paper where she’d written the words for our rituals and started to chant. I joined in to make her feel better. She rolled up her sleeve and I could see how many fresh scars and scabs there were. I wondered how often Zoe used the knife on herself and whether it was always part of a ritual. This time, before she pushed the knife back into her arm, I moved a candle closer so the soft yellow light played over her skin. There weren’t just cuts. Red marks too, that would turn into deep bruises. I took hold of her wrist and ran my hand up her arm. And I looked her in the eye. ‘Your mum?’
Her lip trembled. There were black shapes all around her, circling her like birds of prey.
I swallowed. ‘Tell someone,’ I said.
Zoe shook her head. Her eyes spilled into huge tears and she started to sob.
20
Halloween
It was October 31st. All Zoe talked about for days was the party. Every spare inch of wall in the flat was painted in black or purple, with designs of graves and vampires and skeletons. Some of the kids who hung around Dead Bouquet promised they were coming. Zoe had put the address on the little notice board in the shop and wrote: ‘All goths welcome.’ Jodie said she would come along with some mates before they went on to the pub and maybe afterwards too. I’d asked Luke in the end, but he was working that night. Kerry said she wasn’t coming either, because her church told them it was wrong to celebrate pagan festivals like Halloween. I asked her a couple of times, just to make it sound as if I’d truly like her to come, but she wouldn’t change her mind.
‘Good,’ Zoe said. ‘Suit yourself.’
I persuaded Zoe not to go on any more shopping trips on her own. I couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t end up in the back of another cop car. So we went to a supermarket together – making sure it was one that would definitely not have CCTV photos of Zoe up on their walls. We used my birthday money and bought a load of party food and soft drinks, because neither of us could get away with looking eighteen. Jodie promised to get some booze and we told the Dead Bouquet people to bring some if they could. ‘Otherwise we might as well have cake and jelly,’ Zoe said. ‘We don’t want to look like little cutesy kiddies.’
We made our way back to the flat, around noon, planning to eat some of the food straightaway because we were both starving. ‘Ouch,’ I grumbled, in the lift, putting the carrier bags down and inspecting my hands. ‘Why do they make those bags so they saw through your fingers when you’re carrying them?’
And then we got to the door. We dropped
