Will looks up. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Principal Croon has prohibited girls inviting other girls as their dates.’
Will sits forward with such violence that the drip needle almost dislodges from her hand. ‘That bigoted bitch,’ she growls.
I try not to smile.
‘Where the fuck does she get off?’ Will continues. ‘Hasn’t she heard of the Anti-Discrimination Act? We should take her to court.’
I give her good hand a gentle tap. ‘You should probably keep it down,’ I whisper.
Will draws up her knees, making a mountain of the starched white hospital sheets. Her bread loaf of a bandage rolls miserably on the pillows. ‘This gives us all the more reason to screw Rosemead over.’
I reach around to the back of her head.
‘What are you doing?’
I find the elastic band they’ve used and wrangle it out, so that Will’s hair falls back into its usual lopsided position. ‘It looked wrong the other way.’
She smiles at me curiously.
My phone buzzes.
Starting work on my NPS speech tonight and still waiting for those notes, Bubble. Currently looking for 3 examples of famous poor-but-happy people. Any ideas? Ta x
‘Edie?’ Will asks.
‘My, ah, brother.’ I put my phone face-down in my lap. I fidget with my fingers. ‘Will. You know what this means, don’t you?’
‘No. What?’
I bite my lip. ‘We have to put Amelia Westlake on hiatus for a while.’
We look at each other as the truth of it sinks in.
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Will says eventually. ‘Talk about a bloody cock-up,’ she adds, her tone bitter.
‘A hiatus may even be understating it,’ I say carefully. ‘Principal Croon is squarely on the Amelia Westlake trail now. She’ll be watching you like a hawk.’
Instead of disagreeing, Will moans. ‘It’s not fair. We’ve got so much unfinished business.’
My stomach sinks as I realise it’s true. We put an extraordinary amount of time and effort into the charity prank, only to leave it incomplete. If only it hadn’t been such trouble finding out the details of the printing company! I think of all the ways the money could have been used had we managed to pull it off – the lives improved, the help given. I imagine the other pranks we could have done had we succeeded with this one.
‘I know we do,’ I say. ‘But there is too much risk. And I’m not just talking about Principal Croon. This is the second time you’ve seriously hurt yourself because of Amelia Westlake.’
Will looks pained. ‘Maybe if I’m more careful …’ She peters out.
‘You know as well as I do that there isn’t going to be a next time, Will,’ I say gently.
We sit in silence, or in as much silence as exists amid the beeping machines, moans of discomfort and panicked shouts of medical staff.
‘Maybe it’s for the best,’ I suggest finally. ‘It’s probably time we focused on other things anyway. We’ve got exams soon, and I’ve got Tawney …’
Will looks at me. ‘So our one attempt at helping the wider community comes to nothing. And the money that could have gone to women and children in need instead gets sunk into a superfluous swimming pool at Rosemead.’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Well, that sucks balls,’ Will says. She claws at her bandage.
I look at her face, and see her despondency. I feel it myself. No more brainstorming. No more sneaking around. No more secret meetings in the storeroom. Amelia Westlake was changing things, but now it’s over. That knowledge makes me ache.
‘Nat will need to know, of course,’ says Will.
‘I’ll talk to her,’ I offer.
Will sits up suddenly. ‘We’ve still got to find a way to get in touch with that girl,’ she says.
‘What girl?’ I ask.
‘The one who wrote to Amelia via Instagram about Hadley. We have to convince her to make a complaint.’
Why is Will bringing this up? I don’t want to get into it again. Not now. It has been an incredibly overwhelming day already. ‘But how can we reach her if she’s not answering our Instagram messages and we don’t know who she is?’
My phone buzzes again.
Still waiting to hear from u about Arthur’s keyboard player. Formal’s really soon!!! B xx
When I look up from the phone, Will has me in her gaze. ‘Can you tell me exactly what’s stopping you from making that complaint?’
I take my time putting my phone in my bag. I think about the Sports Committee meeting earlier, and Coach’s innuendo about the new change room. I grimace. ‘I’ve already told you. So many things,’ I say to Will.
‘Like?’
I cross my legs and uncross them again. I straighten the sheet on her bed. ‘Mostly it just seems petty,’ I say. ‘It was such a minor thing. I’d feel so … vexatious. He’s said plenty of worse things to other girls, and no-one else has complained. And besides, what’s the point when I know the school won’t do anything about it, anyway? Except for making my life difficult. It’s like what you said about our charity cake stalls. It’s not worth the bother.’
‘I can’t remember saying that about your cake stalls,’ says Will. ‘But if I said that, I was wrong. And I think you’re wrong now.’ She readjusts her hand on the pile of pillows. ‘To begin with, just because it seems like a minor thing in comparison to more horrible things, that doesn’t make it right. That’s like saying breaking and entering is okay because murder exists. Secondly? It matters that you speak out because if you don’t, this kind of thing will keep happening. Not to you, maybe, but to other students. Possibly worse things. You realise that, don’t you?’
‘Of course,’ I say softly.
‘It might not always feel like it, but you’ve got power when others don’t,’ she says. ‘Which means that even if what Hadley said to you wasn’t haunting you, which it clearly is, and even if there was no-one else at risk, when there clearly is, you’re in a position to say something where others aren’t.’
If only it were as simple as
