that.
About how my mother went away. She was there when I went to school and when I came back all the therapy in the world had failed, and she was being carted off. So she went to that place that only made her worse and then one day (on a day when, I’ve always thought, she was probably feeling more sane), she managed to get herself alone for long enough to hang herself with a twisted sheet from the hot water pipes that ran along the ceiling of her room.
They boxed all the pipes up after that (because now there was a reason to do that, too).
But what I was thinking as I sat in the hot sun on the Seat, was that even that happened for a reason. She killed herself because of a long chain of reasons.
I just don’t know what they were.
Friday 13th August
R ebecca spends two days sulking and feeling cross with Ferelith.
She’s barely seen her father in the last week, and she wonders what he’s doing with his time. More than once she smells stale beer on him.
She thinks about taking a bus into town, and walks up to the main road to the bus stop, only to find that the bus comes once a week, and not today.
She plays with her phone. Makes herself put it away, but after about five minutes gets it out again and brings up her dad’s number. She doesn’t call.
She puts the phone away again, and as she’s walking down the shady side of the lane she’s suddenly aware of the sound of someone walking behind her and turns to see Ferelith.
‘What are you doing here?’ she says casually.
‘Same as you. Walking.’
Rebecca says nothing for a bit, then can’t help herself.
‘It’s just a stupid game.’
‘It’s not.’
Rebecca stops walking.
‘It is,’ she says firmly.
‘No, it’s not,’ says Ferelith, walking on. Rebecca catches her up.
‘Well, what is it then?’
‘It’s important. It’s about trust, isn’t it? I trusted you. You made me do things and I did them, and I trusted you to do the same, and now you won’t do your dare and you won’t do the forfeit.’
‘It’s not like that,’ Rebecca says.
‘Well, that’s how I see it.’
They walk in silence for a while, but the tension eases slightly and they fall into a slower step together.
‘And anyway,’ says Ferelith. ‘You’re scared.’
‘Don’t start that again,’ Rebecca says, and then laughs.
‘Sorry,’ says Ferelith. ‘But you know, you are full of . . .’
‘Okay!’ Rebecca says, laughing. ‘Okay, okay, okay! I’ll do it. I’ll do your forfeit and then we can leave it, yes?’
Ferelith smiles.
‘Good. That’s good. We could go and do it now, if you want. We’re close to the . . . to where we need to be.’
‘Why? Where does it have to happen?’
‘The Hall,’ Ferelith says. ‘At Winterfold Hall. It’s not far from here, we could go and have a look now.’
Rebecca stops walking.
‘And are you going to tell me the forfeit now?’
‘When we get there. But look. It’s a beautiful summer’s day. The sun in shining. “No evil can happen by daylight.” Don’t you know that? So you’re safe. Whatever happens.’
She smiles and Rebecca tells how she’d felt as if she was in a vampire film when she first came to visit Ferelith at the Rectory. They link arms, and lean into each other, their heads touching.
Ferelith laughs, at least at first, but when Rebecca mentions the pub and the landlord, she frowns. But Rebecca doesn’t notice.
‘Is this going to mean more trespassing then?’ she asks.
Ferelith nods.
‘Good. Because I liked that.’
‘You know, there’s an odd thing, though. Trespassing at night feels more dangerous because it’s dark, and that makes it more exciting. But it’s actually more dangerous to do it in the daytime.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re more likely to be seen, of course.’
‘Oh yeah. So where are we trespassing then?’
‘Right here.’
They’ve come to another point that needs repairing in the old boundary wall, and with a quick glance up and down the
About how my mother went away. She was there when I went to school and when I came back all the therapy in the world had failed, and she was being carted off. So she went to that place that only made her worse and then one day (on a day when, I’ve always thought, she was probably feeling more sane), she managed to get herself alone for long enough to hang herself with a twisted sheet from the hot water pipes that ran along the ceiling of her room.
They boxed all the pipes up after that (because now there was a reason to do that, too).
But what I was thinking as I sat in the hot sun on the Seat, was that even that happened for a reason. She killed herself because of a long chain of reasons.
I just don’t know what they were.
Friday 13th August
R ebecca spends two days sulking and feeling cross with Ferelith.
She’s barely seen her father in the last week, and she wonders what he’s doing with his time. More than once she smells stale beer on him.
She thinks about taking a bus into town, and walks up to the main road to the bus stop, only to find that the bus comes once a week, and not today.
She plays with her phone. Makes herself put it away, but after about five minutes gets it out again and brings up her dad’s number. She doesn’t call.
She puts the phone away again, and as she’s walking down the shady side of the lane she’s suddenly aware of the sound of someone walking behind her and turns to see Ferelith.
‘What are you doing here?’ she says casually.
‘Same as you. Walking.’
Rebecca says nothing for a bit, then can’t help herself.
‘It’s just a stupid game.’
‘It’s not.’
Rebecca stops walking.
‘It is,’ she says firmly.
‘No, it’s not,’ says Ferelith, walking on. Rebecca catches her up.
‘Well, what is it then?’
‘It’s important. It’s about trust, isn’t it? I trusted you. You made me do things and I did them, and I trusted you to do the same, and now you won’t do your dare and you won’t do the forfeit.’
‘It’s not like that,’ Rebecca says.
‘Well, that’s how I see it.’
They walk in silence for a while, but the tension eases slightly and they fall into a slower step together.
‘And anyway,’ says Ferelith. ‘You’re scared.’
‘Don’t start that again,’ Rebecca says, and then laughs.
‘Sorry,’ says Ferelith. ‘But you know, you are full of . . .’
‘Okay!’ Rebecca says, laughing. ‘Okay, okay, okay! I’ll do it. I’ll do your forfeit and then we can leave it, yes?’
Ferelith smiles.
‘Good. That’s good. We could go and do it now, if you want. We’re close to the . . . to where we need to be.’
‘Why? Where does it have to happen?’
‘The Hall,’ Ferelith says. ‘At Winterfold Hall. It’s not far from here, we could go and have a look now.’
Rebecca stops walking.
‘And are you going to tell me the forfeit now?’
‘When we get there. But look. It’s a beautiful summer’s day. The sun in shining. “No evil can happen by daylight.” Don’t you know that? So you’re safe. Whatever happens.’
She smiles and Rebecca tells how she’d felt as if she was in a vampire film when she first came to visit Ferelith at the Rectory. They link arms, and lean into each other, their heads touching.
Ferelith laughs, at least at first, but when Rebecca mentions the pub and the landlord, she frowns. But Rebecca doesn’t notice.
‘Is this going to mean more trespassing then?’ she asks.
Ferelith nods.
‘Good. Because I liked that.’
‘You know, there’s an odd thing, though. Trespassing at night feels more dangerous because it’s dark, and that makes it more exciting. But it’s actually more dangerous to do it in the daytime.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re more likely to be seen, of course.’
‘Oh yeah. So where are we trespassing then?’
‘Right here.’
They’ve come to another point that needs repairing in the old boundary wall, and with a quick glance up and down the