‘I think this would be a good moment to focus on achievement, on the fact that each of you have a life to look forward to in the future. Would you like to share your news with the group, Daisy?’
Daisy blushes, two pink apples on her cheekbones. She looks down at her bitten nails.
‘I got my period today.’
There is a hush in the room, then a ripple of whispers.
Rebecca claps, and we all join in, the applause gathering pace as we share in Daisy’s happiness. Then Daisy catches my eye, and my hands clasp together, refusing to clap anymore, because I don’t see triumph, I see fear.
‘How did you fool them, Daisy?’ I say to her, later in the afternoon.
We’re sitting in the recreational room playing a game of Black Jack. I kneel next to her on the floor, though my knees hurt from the pressure on the scratchy carpet.
‘Please tell me. Did you borrow someone else’s sanitary pad?’
‘No. It’s my blood.’
I gently take her chin in my hand, and lift her face so it’s level with mine. Her anime eyes are wide and innocent, but desolate.
‘Tell me, Daisy.’
She moves away from me, and lifts up her skirt. On her inner thigh, close to the panty line, is a long cut, red at the edges and puckered where a scab is trying to form.
‘Oh no, Daisy! You can’t fool them like that. It could get infected.’
‘Please don’t tell on me, Amy,’ she begs, her eyes erupting with tears. ‘I borrowed Scarlett’s scissors. I just wanted the staff to stop watching me. I couldn’t bear it. Promise you won’t tell. If my uncle finds out . . . ’
She pushes her face into my shoulder and cries.
‘Of course I won’t tell, Daisy. I promise.’
Before dinner time, I go to Rebecca’s office, and find her lost in a sea of paperwork. She smiles up at me.
‘I think there’s something I need to tell you,’ I say.
She puts her pen down and asks me to sit.
‘What’s wrong. Amy?’
I hesitate. ‘If I tell you something, can we keep it secret?’
‘Amy, you know confidentiality is always limited. If you tell me something that means you or anyone else is at risk, I’ll have to act.’
‘Even if I tell you it’s a secret?’
Her face crinkles with concern. She thinks I’m talking about my story. I want to tell her that Daisy needs help right now, more than I do.
‘There can be no secrets between us, Amy. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tell me.’
Telling Rebecca would be a betrayal to my friend, and the code we all live by here in Swan Lake.
I promised Daisy.
I decide to keep it to myself. For now.
43
ME
I wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, covered in sweat. My days at the children’s home still burn in me when I close my eyes, when I let the dark take over.
I shoot up and whisper, ‘Amy.’
That is what allows Amy to drag me back into life. The way my dead heart leaps at her name.
I get changed and go outside. I light a smoke under the alcove. Seconds later, I crush my fag underneath my boot, go out to Devil’s Thirst.
The night breaks. The thunder cracks my brain. I head deeper towards the woods, where the lake becomes a river. It’s shaded by branches. A tide of scum laps at the edges, but otherwise it’s still.
Too still.
I slip my underwear off, drape them over a bush next to my leather jacket and jeans.
Feels like a tool box rattles inside my head. It’s too much, the noise. I need escape.
I miss you . . .
I take off one sock, then the other, and ball them together. I slap my arse and legs a couple of times to get the blood up.
As I look around, I feel exposed here. But it’s only the birds watching up in the trees, and the odd badger or squirrel having a good laugh at my expense.
I climb down the bank and lower myself into the dense silt that smells like sump-water, and fuck it’s cold.
I expect it be like quicksand, gripping and sucking me straight down. But the river lets me move into it as I wade in deeper.
I miss you . . .
I strike out and swim towards Angel’s Stone. Mum’s old cottage. It’s been haunting the back of my mind for some time.
Then the river changes. It fights against me.
I pretend I’m the lost prince at sea. I’ll let the undercurrent drag me under and swim until I reach rock bottom, where I’ll find a lost city and live with the fishes, living my life in darkness without drowning my mermaid with me.
I step out of the water, sleek and shaking, pale and cursing. I pull my clothes over wet skin and pick up my boots, head back home.
Things have gotten worse over the last few weeks. My obsession is like a black storm. Every tiny, minute thought is like demolition in my brain.
I’m not for her.
But still, she’s in my head when I wake up. Or when I go to work. Or when I’m taking a shower, or drinking a pint, or taking a piss, or jerking off. She’s in every pretty sound I hear, like bird song and the running river. I’ve put her out like a fire a million times, but like fire, she sparks back up in the darkest corners of my twisted mind.
I figured I could rescue you from the monsters that scare you in the dark, Amylocks. But you’ve only been rescued by another
