SweetFreak

  I’m being crazy now. Taylor doesn’t even know I suspect him of being SweetFreak. I stand, shivering, at the traffic lights on the road past the park, waiting to cross as cars swoosh past, sending spray over my already wet legs.

  At last the traffic comes to a halt. I fly across the road then up our street. I’m soaked through, but I barely notice. Terror for Jamie coils around the guilt that feels like it’s splitting me into fragments. My heart is beating so hard I actually think it might explode. I raise my key to the lock with trembling fingers. The wood is damp as I push the door open. I step inside. Voices drift across the hall from the kitchen. Mum is laughing, Poppy saying something in that low-voiced, sarcastic way of hers. In seconds I will have to deliver the most devastating news of our lives.

  ‘And yay, I present thee my sword and swear myself to thy service!’ Jamie’s excitable squeal sends Mum into giggles again.

  I stop in my tracks, my drenched satin jacket dripping onto the carpet. For a second I can’t actually process what I’ve heard. Then I break into a run and storm into the kitchen. Jamie is right there, his plastic sword in his hand as he kneels before Mum at the kitchen sink. He looks up and sees me, slack-jawed, staring at him. A guilty look flashes across his little face.

  ‘Carey, for heaven’s sake!’ Mum exclaims.

  ‘The wet look was very last year, actually,’ Poppy drawls.

  ‘Jamie! Where’ve you been? I thought you were lost,’ I say, not taking my eyes off my brother. ‘I thought you’d been kidnapped or . . . or . . .’ My voice shakes and all of a sudden I’m in floods of tears. It’s the relief, washing over me in huge waves. I sink against a chair. ‘What happened? I was looking everywhere for you.’

  Jamie stands up, shuffling from foot to foot.

  ‘Jamie said he turned around and you’d gone,’ Mum says, her voice half accusatory, half concerned. ‘I tried to call you, but there was no reply.’

  My hand strays to the phone Taylor gave me. It is still in my pocket but of course Mum would have called me on the rubbish mobile she gave me. And I left that at home.

  I look at my brother. I’m guessing he hasn’t told Mum about our argument or that he ran away. He knows that would get him into trouble.

  ‘No,’ I say, my voice still shaking. ‘I turned around and Jamie had gone. I’ve been looking everywhere for him.’ I wipe my eyes and focus on my brother again. ‘Thank goodness you’re all right.’

  ‘Well it sounds like you were both extremely careless,’ Mum says, sounding a little bewildered.

  I nod. I’m just beginning to accept that nothing bad has happened. Which is, frankly, so amazing I don’t have the slightest desire to drop Jamie in it.

  ‘So . . .’ Mum goes on. ‘Jamie, you shouldn’t have run off, but I understand you wanting to come home when you couldn’t find Carey. And Carey, obviously you should have kept a better eye on him, but it looks like you’ve suffered enough.’ She eyes my wet clothes and hair. ‘So why don’t you go and change and I’ll make us all some hot chocolate.’

  I nod again, slowly. Jamie darts across the room and throws his arms around me. It’s a hug not just of affection but of gratitude.

  I hug him back, tears sparking at my eyes again. Suddenly I feel wrung out and exhausted. I hang my damp jacket on the peg by the door and trudge upstairs. I shower and change into leggings and a baggy jumper. Warm and cosy at last, I brush leave-in conditioner through my curls, eyeing myself in the mirror. The world feels like it’s shifted on its axis, just a little. I didn’t lose Jamie, but I could have. It makes me see what’s important: keeping the people you love safe, or even more simply: keeping the people you love.

  I detangle my hair, strand by strand. I’m determined to sort things out and get my life back. I’ve let myself be buffeted about by the terrible things I was accused of, allowing those things to dictate how people behave towards me.

  Well, all that is going to change.

  First, I’ll call Taylor and ask him what’s going on between us. I won’t mention the whole SweetFreak thing. Instead I’ll keep the focus on us and whether or not he actually wants to go out with me.

  Then I’m going to try and speak to Amelia again but this time, instead of blaming other people for SweetFreak, I’ll simply insist that it isn’t me, that I’m her good friend and that I always have been.

  I should never have given up on our friendship and if I can get Amelia on my side then everyone else will come round in time. My friends will start talking to me . . . Mum will stop looking at me through wary eyes . . . I’ll be liked again. Most important of all, I’ll get my best friend back.

  The rain has stopped outside and the sun is out, making a rainbow that curves over the horizon. Downstairs I can hear Mum and Poppy discussing a dress Mum is thinking of buying. Toots and whistles blare out from the living room where Jamie must be watching a cartoon.

  This is my world, my family. We’re all here. Safe. For the first time in ages I actually feel happy.

  I put down my comb and take out the phone Taylor gave me. I plug it in to charge, then idly open NatterSnap. Mum calls up to say the hot chocolate is ready and I’m about to head downstairs, when a deluge of posts all with the hashtag LostGirl catches my eye. Why are there so many pictures of Amelia flooding the screen?

  Mum calls up to me again, but I am glued to NatterSnap, my heart pounding, the glow that had lit me just a moment earlier evaporating.

  Because all the posts are full of just one bit of news: Amelia is missing.

  21

  Downstairs the doorbell rings.

  I hear Mum answer, then the low rumble of voices.

  ‘Carey? Come down please,’ Mum orders. Her voice sounds different from when she was calling me for my hot chocolate just a minute ago: heavier and harder.

  I set down the phone.

  ‘Carey!’ Now she sounds distraught.

  I hurry downstairs. DS Carter and DC Kapoor are standing in the hall with Mum. They’re examining my black satin jacket, poring over the flower embroidery on the back. Their faces are deathly serious.

  My insides drop away. Nobody speaks as the four of us walk into the kitchen. Poppy is making toast in the corner. She keeps her head down, focusing on scooping a slide of butter onto her knife, but I can tell she’s listening.

  ‘What’s happening?’ I blurt out.

  Mum mutters something, but her voice is all strangled.

  ‘We need to ask you some questions about where you’ve been this afternoon,’ DC Kapoor says. Her voice is cold and hard.

  ‘Is this about Amelia?’ I demand.

  The two detectives exchange a glance.

  ‘I just heard she was missing,’ I say quickly. ‘I didn’t have anything to do with it if that’s why you’re here.’

  DS Carter sighs. ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. But, yes, Amelia Wilson is missing.’

  Mum claps her hand over her mouth.

  ‘And,’ DS Carter goes on, ‘we have reason to believe you, Carey, may have seen her just before she disappeared.’

  ‘What?’ I stare at him. ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘Why do you think that?’ Mum demands. ‘What makes you think this has anything to do with Carey?’

  The detectives look at each other. DS Carter clears his throat. ‘An eyewitness called the station. He says he saw you and Amelia arguing at the edge of the cliffs just past Bow Wood about an hour ago.’

  Mum gasps.

  ‘Someone says they saw us?’ I ask, bewildered. ‘But I wasn’t with Amelia.’

  ‘What kind of person calls the police because they saw an argument?’ Mum asks suspiciously. ‘Who was he?’

  ‘It was an anonymous call,’ DS Carter admits, ‘but the witness described Amelia and Carey in detail: hair, build, height difference, what both of you were wearing . . .’ He glances out into the hallway, towards my black satin jacket. ‘He also reported what was being said: threats. Abusive language. That’s why he felt he needed to call us.’

/>   ‘What?’ My jaw drops. ‘He’s lying. I told you, I wasn’t with Amelia.’

  Mum looks stunned.

  ‘So you can see why we need to get an idea about Carey’s movements this afternoon.’ DC Kapoor is now speaking to Mum, as if I’m not even in the room. ‘We need a timeline.’

  Mum nods, her forehead creased with anxiety. She and I sit down at the kitchen table. Poppy is still lurking by the toaster but no one takes any notice of her. Mum holds my hand as the two police officers sit opposite.

  ‘In your own words, Carey,’ DS Carter says, ‘can you walk us through your day, please? What time did you leave the house?’

  I start talking, my voice a dull monotone, like something I’m only vaguely connected to. I think back to the morning and how I worried for hours that Taylor hadn’t called to explain why he hadn’t met me.

  I don’t say this to the police. Apart from anything else, I don’t want Mum to know I’ve been linking with Taylor. This, I realise later, is a mistake, as it makes my turning up at Taylor’s house with Jamie in tow look like an attempt to give myself an alibi, instead of what it actually was: a desperate desire to understand why he’d stood me up.

  ‘I took my little brother to play with his friend Blake,’ I explain. ‘Er, to see if Blake could play with him.’

  ‘And?’ DS Carter raises his eyebrows.

  ‘Blake and his mum were busy getting ready to go away for a few days, so we left.’

  ‘Is it usual for Carey to organise Jamie’s playdates?’ DS Carter glances at Mum, a puzzled expression on his face.

  ‘Er, no.’ Mum squirms in her seat. ‘I imagine Jamie was pestering for Carey to take him. He loves playing with Blake.’

  She looks at me and I nod.

  ‘And where were you, Mrs Logan? At lunch then the spa, was it?’ DC Kapoor smiles, but there’s a hard edge to her voice. Mum blushes. I bristle at the implication that perhaps if Mum spent less time gadding about with her friends indulging in beauty treatments her children wouldn’t have turned into feral delinquents.

  ‘I was at the hairdressers.’ Mum’s cheeks are deep pink with shame. My tongue feels thick in my throat.

  ‘Carey and I often help out with Jamie,’ Poppy snaps from across the room. ‘Just because Mum’s on her own it doesn’t make her a bad parent.’ We all turn in her direction. Her eyes glitter dangerously. ‘We’re family and we look out for each other. OK?’

  A tense silence descends on the room. DC Kapoor looks deeply affronted, but before she can speak DS Carter spreads his arms and smiles.

  ‘Now come on, let’s all calm down a bit, eh?’ he says, his voice low and soothing. ‘It’s understandable nerves are frayed, but let’s keep it civil.’

  Poppy gives a harrumph, but doesn’t speak. I tighten my hold on Mum’s hand.

  ‘There’s something I don’t quite understand,’ DS Carter says patiently. ‘Why didn’t you call Blake’s mother before going over there?’ He pauses. ‘Or his older brother, who I understand you’ve seen quite a bit of recently?’

  I gulp. How on earth do they know about me and Taylor?

  Mum is staring at me. I’m sure she doesn’t want to look like she has no clue about my romantic relationships in front of the police, but it must be obvious to them anyway from her shell-shocked expression.

  ‘I was hoping maybe I’d see Taylor if I just turned up,’ I admit, my face burning. I sound like a jerk, a loved-up idiot of the kind I used to laugh at.

  ‘Again, why not call first?’ DS Carter asks.

  ‘I . . . I . . .’ The last thing I want to do is talk about all this in front of Mum and the police. ‘Taylor and I were supposed to meet yesterday,’ I confess, ‘but he didn’t show up so . . .’

  Mum shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

  ‘So, have you been dating him, Carey?’ DC Kapoor asks. ‘Taylor Lockwood?’

  I squirm. Mum puts her hand over her forehead.

  ‘You weren’t aware of the relationship, Mrs Logan?’ DC Kapoor asks. Again, there’s the implication that Mum isn’t aware of what’s going on with her own daughter.

  ‘It’s not Mum’s fault,’ I jump in. ‘I just hadn’t got round to . . . me and Taylor, it wasn’t a serious thing, it hadn’t been going on long . . .’

  ‘How about Amelia? Was she aware that you and Taylor had been seeing each other? I believe they were dating until a week or so before Amelia received the death threat?’ DS Carter consults his notes.

  Now I look like a terrible, boyfriend-stealing friend, on top of everything else. ‘Amelia and Taylor did go out, but obviously it was ages ago so—’

  ‘Were you jealous of Amelia and Taylor’s relationship?’ DC Kapoor enquires. Her voice oozes with triumph, like she’s totally sussed out my motive for wanting to hurt Amelia. ‘Had you hoped he’d go out with you all along? Were you delighted when he did, then perhaps angry over the past few days, when he seemed to lose interest?’

  ‘No, I only met him a couple of times when they were seeing each other.’ My hackles rise. ‘If you’re trying to say—’

  ‘OK, OK.’ DS Carter pats the air with his hands in a calming gesture. He frowns at DC Kapoor, who purses her lips. ‘Let’s go back to today.’ He clears his throat. ‘Did you see Taylor when you arrived at the Lockwood house?’

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘Like I told you before, his mum was about to set off with Blake for a few days and Taylor was going to stay with friends. When I got there he was upstairs packing a bag.’

  DS Carter nods. ‘So you and Jamie left and then—’

  ‘Before I left I spoke to a girl from the family Taylor was going to stay with,’ I blurt out. ‘We talked about Taylor. She told me that one of his nicknames is Super H, meaning Super Hacker. It . . . It made me wonder if my laptop was hacked to make it look like the SweetFreak death threat was sent from it. If Taylor’s been behind it all.’

  The officers exchange a look.

  ‘As I believe we’ve already explained,’ DS Carter says evenly, ‘our examination of your laptop shows clearly that the messages were made manually, not remotely.’

  ‘But someone clever could have hacked in and done it without you realising.’

  ‘No, Carey, that’s not possible,’ DC Kapoor says firmly. ‘So back to this afternoon. You’re saying you left Taylor’s house just after two p.m.’

  I nod, my frustration rising.

  ‘Then where did you go?’

  ‘Jamie and I went home,’ I say sullenly. This is hopeless. The police have already decided what the story here is: I sent the nasty messages and the death threat because I was jealous Taylor chose Amelia instead of me months ago. And then, after having finally got Taylor to ask me out, I was tipped into a fresh fury against Amelia when he lost interest.

  ‘Did you and Jamie go straight home?’ DC Kapoor pushes.

  Mum is staring at me again. I know how guilty I’ll look once the police know I was in the wood on my own. I want to make up a story, to say that Jamie and I did come home together, but Mum will call me out on the lie. And, anyway, there’s CCTV on the main roads between Taylor’s house and mine. It won’t be hard to place where I was. Or when.

  ‘No. We stopped at the edge of Bow Wood,’ I explain. ‘Jamie wanted me to take him in there to play, but I wanted to go home. We argued a bit, then he ran off into the trees. I looked for him for a while, but he’d vanished. I was really worried.’

  DS Carter leans forward.

  ‘So you admit you were in the woods this afternoon?’ he asks.

  I squirm. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did you go near the cliffs?’

  ‘Sort of, but only for a moment. When I realised Jamie wasn’t there, I went back through the woods and headed home.’

  ‘Did you see Amelia in the woods or by the cliff?’

  ‘No, absolutely not.’

  ‘Did you argue with her?’

  ‘I’m telling you, I didn’t see her.’ My voice rises. ‘When I got to the edge of the trees I looke
d out towards the sea for a few seconds. I wasn’t properly on the cliff. Like . . . from where I was standing I couldn’t even see whether the tide was in or out.’

  ‘It was in.’ The way DS Carter says it sounds ominous.

  A shiver snakes down my spine. He’s already confirmed that Amelia is missing. What has happened to her? Where is she? Is she all right?

  ‘So how close did you actually get to the edge of the cliff?’ DC Kapoor asks.

  ‘Why are you asking that?’ Mum snaps.

  DS Carter frowns, as if the younger officer has said too much. I stare at their worried faces as a new realisation dawns on me: they seriously think I might have pushed Amelia over the cliff. She could have fallen to the sea many metres below. At high tide the water washes onto the rocks, sweeping everything that falls out to sea.

  A tornado of anxiety sweeps through me. For the first time it occurs to me that something really awful may have happened to my best friend.

  ‘Please answer the question, Carey,’ DS Carter insists.

  ‘Where is this going?’ Mum demands, her voice icy. ‘Does my daughter need a lawyer?’

  ‘It’s OK, Mum,’ I say. Because it is, isn’t it? It has to be. Surely if I just explain what happened, they’ll see I couldn’t possibly have hurt Amelia and start focusing their attention on finding her – and tracking down whoever is guilty.

  ‘Like I told you, I only went to the edge of the trees. I glanced across the coastal path, along the cliff, but I still couldn’t see Jamie so I had another look in the woods, then I left and came straight home,’ I say, eager now to get my story out, to explain everything that happened, to prove my innocence. ‘I was worried about Jamie, but when I got home I found he’d run back here from the woods without me.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Mum says.

  ‘And what time did Jamie arrive back here?’ DS Carter asks Mum.

  ‘Mum was still out, but I was here,’ Poppy interjects. ‘It was just after two thirty, I’d just got in from the café where I work on Saturdays.’

  ‘I got back from the hairdressers’ at three,’ Mum adds.