Trust Me
Author: Malorie Blackman
Date: 2012-11-29 12:23:04+00:00
Keywords: General; Juvenile Fiction; Young Adult Fiction; Romance; Love & Romance; Paranormal; Fantasy; Fiction; British Literature; Young Adult; Vampires; Drama
Description: Seventeen-year-old Jayna wishes she could spend every second of the day with Andrew. He's her first love, and he understands her like nobody else can. Jayna just wishes Andrew's prejudiced family could accept her - but when they're alone together, it hardly seems to matter. But something strange has happened to Andrew. He looks . . . different. Pale and drawn, as if he hasn't been outside for days, with mysteriously cold green eyes. He won't go out in the sunlight, and he's unnaturally fast and strong. And now he wants Jayna to join him. Now she has to make the choice: to lose Andrew forever,
Publisher: Penguin Random House Children's UK
Rights: All rights reserved

Contents

Cover

About the Book

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Read on for the first three chapters of DEAD GORGEOUS ...

About the Author

Also by Malorie Blackman

Praise for Malorie Blackman

Copyright

About the Book

Seventeen-year-old Jayna wishes she could spend every second of the day with Andrew. He’s her first love, and he understands her like nobody else can. Jayna just wishes Andrew’s prejudiced family could accept her – but when they’re alone together, it hardly seems to matter.

But something strange has happened to Andrew. He looks . . . different. Pale and drawn, as if he hasn’t been outside for days, with mysteriously cold green eyes. He won’t go out in the sunlight, and he’s unnaturally fast and strong. And now he wants Jayna to join him.

Now she has to make the choice: to lose Andrew forever, or to be with him always – no matter the cost.

To Neil and Lizzy, with love, as always

1

‘MUM, I’M NOT a baby any more. Why’re you turning this into a drama?’

‘Jayna, I won’t allow it.’ Mum’s lips thinned with prudish rage. She marched up and down in front of me, wearing a trough in our mid-grey living-room carpet.

I glared at her. How many days had I spent rehearsing exactly how and when to tell Mum that Andrew and I wanted to go on holiday together? The hours spent in front of my bedroom mirror practising the right words, the diffident tone, the conciliatory look – all a complete waste of time. I’d started off by saying the wrong thing in the wrong way and we’d gone downhill from there.

I took a deep breath and tried again. ‘Mum, I’m seventeen, not seven. And I’m eighteen in a couple of months. I can look after myself. And apart from anything else, you can’t stop me,’ I said.

That came out wrong too.

‘While you live under my roof you’ll do as I say,’ she stormed.

And, of course, that did it! I’d lost count of the number of times I’d heard the ‘under my roof’ threat.

‘If I had any sense, I’d be out of here in a second. All you do is nag and criticize and—’

‘Don’t talk to me like that, Jayna.’

‘But it’s all right for you to yell and dictate to me? You’re always trying to run my life. Run my life? Ruin it, more like.’

‘You’re being ridiculous. You know that’s not—’

I didn’t let her finish. ‘You don’t trust me enough—’

Now it was Mum’s turn to interrupt. ‘Listen, Jayna Lucas, I’ve lived longer than you and I’ve had more experiences – good and not so good. All I’m trying to do is stop you from making the same mistakes I made.’

‘How is going on holiday with Andrew a mistake?’

Mum wasn’t even trying to understand. ‘You’re too young,’ she replied at once. ‘You and Andrew are only seventeen and you expect to go on holiday together? Alone?’

‘Andy is eighteen already.’

‘That’s still too young,’ Mum snapped.

‘How come I’m old enough to work and pay taxes and get married and have children, but I’m not old enough to go on holiday for three lousy weeks?’

‘Because I said so. Besides, you couldn’t get married without my permission.’ Mum warded off my interruption by showing me her palm. ‘And I don’t want to hear a damned word about Gretna Green!’

Like I’d travel all the way to Scotland to get married when all I had to do was wait a couple of months until I could legally get married in England, and then there wouldn’t be a single thing Mum could do to stop me.

‘Mum, if you’d just listen,’ I tried again. ‘Andrew and I have saved up enough money between us, we’ve worked out an exact route, we know which hotels we’ll be staying at – and we know where all the British embassies are should we run into any problems. I’ll write our whole itinerary down for you so you’ll know where we are every day. We’re being responsible.’ I threw Mum’s favourite word back at her.

Mistake!

‘Was it responsible to wait till now to tell me! You swan in here, tell me you’re going abroad with Andrew this weekend and I’m supposed to like it?’ Mum ranted. ‘Mind you, I should be grateful you told me at all. Knowing you, I’m surprised you didn’t just head off with Andrew and send me a postcard afterwards telling me where you were and what you’d done.’

‘Well, if you’re going to joke about it . . .’

‘Do you see me laughing?’ Mum asked stonily.

No, I didn’t. There wasn’t the trace of a smile on her face. Damn it, all I wanted was to be with my boyfriend. Was that asking so much? It was beginning to look like Mission Impossible.

‘Mum, please . . . Look, I’m sorry. I know I should have told you before now, but . . . well, I didn’t.’ Even I could hear how feeble that sounded!

‘And I suppose the idea is that now it’s too late for me to stop you?’ Mum said. Exasperation hardened her voice and lines of discontent creased her face. ‘Jayna, why are you in such a hurry to grow up?’

‘I am grown up, Mum. That’s what you won’t understand. This isn’t fair. When you were my age you were independent. You were pregnant with me—’

‘I was married to your father first – God rest his soul,’ she retorted. ‘And, yes, I was pregnant with you, but I was still too young. I didn’t know anything.’

‘The point is, you were making your own decisions, doing your own thing. You still want me to be your little girl so you can tell me exactly what to do all the time. Well, I’m not Teegan, you know. You can’t tell me how to run my life—’

‘Don’t bring me into it,’ my little sister protested.

Mum and I spoke in unison.

‘Stay out of this, Teegan.’

‘Butt out, you scabby turd.’

Teegan folded her arms across her chest and looked sulky. I gifted my sister with the original look that had turned vinegar sour. At twelve years old, she was a master of the sweet, innocent ‘snowflakes wouldn’t melt in my mouth’ expression. With huge brown eyes set in an oval face and short, curly black hair, she was already gorgeous, and her looks just kept getting better. Teegan was tall and slender and it was obvious that in a few years she’d be a knock-down, knockout beauty. She made me sick!

I turned back to Mum, dismissing Teegan with a scornful flick of my eyelashes. ‘You’re not being fair . . .’

‘Fair?’ Mum said the word like it was a sloe in her mouth. ‘You’re a fine one to talk. All year I’ve been talking about the three of us going on holiday together. You wait till everything is arranged – the hotel rooms booked, the train tickets paid for – and then tell me that you’re going on holiday with Andrew instead.’

‘But the last week of our holiday overlaps with the first week of yours. So what am I supposed to do? Tell me how I can be in two places at once and I’ll do it gladly. I was hoping I’d be able to go on holiday with both Andrew and you and Teegan, but then you went and changed your dates. You’re being totally unreasonable.’

Lips pinched together, Mum stopped pacing for the first time that evening. She looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time. I tried not to visibly squirm under her dissecting glare.

‘Jayna, you didn’t even ask me if you could go on holiday with Andrew. You just told me. And only now.’

‘If I’d asked you, would you have had said yes?’ I asked, already knowing the answer.

‘Of course not.’

‘Exactly! That’s precisely why I didn’t ask you. Because I knew you wouldn’t approve.’

‘Jayna, you’re seventeen. You don’t know everything, even if you think you do.’

‘I’m not talking about knowing everything. I’m not applying for Mensa membership. All I want to do is go on holiday with Andrew for three tiny weeks. I bet if it was Teegan you’d let her go. Nothing she does is ever wrong.’

‘Now wait just a minute—’ Teegan leaped out of her chair.

‘No. If you wanted to go on holiday with the entire Reggae Philharmonic Orchestra, Mum would let you.’ I didn’t even try to disguise my dislike as I frowned at my sister. ‘We both know that you’re Mum’s favourite—’

‘Jayna, don’t talk such rubbish,’ Mum snapped.

‘Yeah, Jayna, you know that’s not true.’

‘Yes it is, and what’s more—’

I didn’t get very far. ‘This is getting us nowhere,’ Mum said. ‘Jayna, once and for all, are you going to tell Andrew that you’re not going on holiday with him?’

Mum and I regarded each other. The tension-filled air hung like a curtain between us, thick, heavy, impenetrable. I hated this. It was like being torn in two. Of course I wanted to be with Mum and Teegan, but the truth was, I wanted to be with my boyfriend more. It was my own fault. Mum was right; I had put off telling her about my proposed holiday plans with Andrew. For months I’d listened to her talk about our family trip to the Lake District and never said a word about my alternate plans. Even when I knew that she’d changed her holiday dates and I wouldn’t be able to go with them, I still hadn’t spoken up. It’s just that I hated confrontations.

‘I can’t do that, Mum. Andrew and I have spent the money now. Everything’s booked.’

‘I see.’

‘But as soon as I get some spare money, I’ll pay you back for my train ticket, I promise.’

‘That’s not what this is about and you know it,’ Mum said quietly.

The tension in the room thickened. We both knew this had little to do with the train tickets or booked hotel rooms or anything else. Going on holiday with Andrew would mean being alone with my boyfriend for the first time. That’s what Mum couldn’t handle. I could guess the sort of thoughts racing through her head. My face began to burn.

‘Why don’t you just come right out and say what’s really on your mind?’ I challenged.

Mum looked at me. Seconds ticked by. ‘Teegan, go to your room,’ she said, her eyes never leaving my face.

‘Why?’

‘Because I said so,’ said Mum.

‘You two are going to talk about sex, aren’t you? Why do I have to leave just when it’s getting interesting?’ Teegan complained.

Mum turned and gave her the look.

‘All right, all right . . . I’m going,’ Teegan grumbled. She left the room reluctantly, dragging her feet. If my face was burning before, it was heating the whole house now.

‘Are you and Andrew . . .?’ Mum’s voice faltered momentarily. ‘Are you and Andrew sleeping together?’

No beating about the bush, then. Just straight for the jugular. It took all my courage not to look away and study the wallpaper.

‘Suppose I tell you we’re not?’

Mum didn’t answer. She looked like she didn’t know what to believe.

‘Anyway, what if we are? This is my life, not yours.’ Embarrassment made me spiteful. Mum turned away from me, hurt. ‘I’m sorry. I—’ I clamped my lips together. I was fighting hard not to feel guilty, but I was losing. Why was Mum making this so difficult? Now she had both of us feeling miserable. ‘OK, if you really must know, I’m not having sex with Andrew. There! Are you happy now?’ I flung at her.

I couldn’t take any more. I darted past her out of the living room.

‘Jayna, wait . . .’ Mum called after me, but I didn’t stop.

I ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Once in my bedroom, I turned and kicked the door shut behind me as hard as I could.

Points out of ten for not having a confrontation? Zero.

Fail, Jayna. Fail.

2

I THREW MYSELF down on the bed, my head throbbing. Why was nothing ever easy? As if I wasn’t nervous enough about going on holiday with Andrew. In spite of the confidence I had tried to display, this wouldn’t be like a school trip holiday with Mum – I knew that. Andrew and I would have to fend for ourselves, be responsible for ourselves. That thought simultaneously excited and terrified me.

And then there was the other reason for going on this holiday . . . my face burned just to think of it. No wonder I’d put off telling Mum of our plans. I placed my cool hands against my cheeks, wishing, as always, that I didn’t embarrass quite so easily.

‘Jayna, can I come in?’ Teegan knocked at my door.

‘Bugger off, Teegan,’ I snapped.

‘Please, Jayna.’ Teegan came into my room anyway. She chewed on her bottom lip, looking uncertain.

‘Teegan, which part of “bugger off” did you not understand? The “bugger” or the “off”?’ I sat up, scowling at her. ‘I don’t want you in here.’

‘I’m not surprised.’ Teegan wrinkled up her nose as she looked around. ‘If this were my room, I wouldn’t want anyone to see it either.’

I gave her the filthiest look I could muster. My room might not have been the most spectacular on the planet, but I certainly didn’t need my little sister to tell me that. Earlier in the year, Mum had decided it was time to redecorate our bedrooms. Mine was at the front of the house next to hers, Teegan’s was at the back, past the bathroom. I’d decided to strip off the old wallpaper, rub down the plasterwork and then repaint it. We all went to the DIY megastore together.

Mum had disagreed with my choice from the moment she saw it. ‘You’re not really going to paint your room that colour, are you?’ she’d queried.

‘What’s wrong with it?’ I had immediately been on the defensive.

‘Isn’t it a bit . . . relentless?’

‘What does that mean?’ I’d frowned. ‘I think it’s quite pretty. It’s called Rich Tone Pink.’

‘You should get a paler shade. You won’t like that once it’s glaring at you from all four walls,’ Mum had said.

And that, of course, had done it. I’d been determined to have Rich Tone Pink or nothing.

But Mum had been right. Once I’d painted my bedroom, I’d hated going into it. It was like walking into a giant tub of cheap strawberry ice cream, so I’d covered as much of the wallpaper as possible with arty Van Gogh, Monet, Charlie Parker, Miles Davies, My Chemical Romance and whale posters. I’m into whales.

My sister was now studying my posters, the carpet, my duvet cover. She looked everywhere but at me. A twinge of regret plucked at my insides. What had happened to us? Once upon a time, we’d been so close. Best friends as well as sisters. But now it wasn’t only the five-year difference in our ages that separated us – it was more like five light-years in distance.

‘Teegan, what do you want?’

My sister frowned down at her feet. The only sound in the room was the ticking of my alarm clock.

‘I . . . er . . . will you help me with my school project? I’m having trouble.’

‘Get Mum to help you. I’m not in the mood. Close the door on your way out.’ That wasn’t what Teegan had wanted to say, I could tell, but at that moment I didn’t particularly care. I had other things on my mind.

Teegan finally looked at me. ‘Jayna,’ she said at last, ‘don’t you want to come on holiday with us?’

‘Of course I do, Teegan.’ I sighed. ‘I’d love to. But I want to go on holiday with Andrew too.’

‘And you want to do that more?’

I shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’

‘Why?’

‘Look, I’ve been on holiday with you and Mum lots of times, but I’ve never been on holiday with Andrew. The Lake District is beautiful, but we always stay in the same hotel and do the same things, meet the same people – year in, year out, ever since before Dad died. I just want to do something different for a change, that’s all. I want to be with Andrew. Do you understand?’

Teegan shook her head.

Sighing, I lay down on my bed, my hands behind my head, and stared up at the ceiling. Why was life so difficult? How old would I have to be before I found an answer to that question? ‘You will when you’re older and have a boyfriend of your own,’ I told my sister.

‘No, I won’t. I wouldn’t want to be with some grotty boy instead of you and Mum. You’re really horrible, you are,’ she sniffed. ‘I wish you weren’t my sister.’

‘I often wish the same thing,’ I said, without looking at her.

‘You’re so rotten these days. I heard Mum tell Mrs Tout that since you started going out with Andrew you’ve been a real pain in every single part of her body!’ Teegan shouted. ‘And Mum’s right. You’re a pain in every single part of my body too.’

‘Mum had no business discussing me and Andrew with the neighbours.’ I sat up and glared at Teegan. ‘And I couldn’t care less what you think, you little maggot. Now get out.’

‘Won’t! And if going out with boys makes you this vile, then I’ll never go on a date. Never, ever. I’m sorry you ever met Andrew. I hate him.’

Teegan’s words shocked me. They shouldn’t have, but they did. Recently it’d felt like Andrew and me against the whole world, and it wasn’t the romantic feeling some songs try to convince you that it is.

‘Teegan, get lost.’

‘Won’t, won’t, won’t.’

‘Fine. Right. Stay here, then. I’ll go out, and as far away from you and this house as I can get.’

Standing up, I pulled my black leather jacket out of the wardrobe. First, a glance in the dressing-table mirror to smooth down my hair. A glance was all I ever did when it came to looking at myself in the mirror. I had Sasquatch feet, what I liked to call a Rubenesque figure, and a face that only just made it to the right side of reasonable. I had good eyes, though, or so I’d been told by my closest girlfriend Diane and a couple of unoriginal boys trying it on. My eyes were almond-shaped and big, the irises so dark brown as to appear black. And I didn’t have one filling in my mouth. I was proud of that.

When I was in Year Nine, Gavin Skelly had told me that when I smiled it looked like I had a full set of at least three people’s teeth crammed into my mouth. For at least a year after that, every time I’d laughed, I’d lowered my head or covered my mouth with my hand. Until one day, I’d had enough of hiding. I said to myself, ‘Jayna, are you really going to let a dork like Gavin Skelly change your life for you?’ The answer had been a resounding no! It had taken over a year to cure myself of hiding my mouth when I laughed, but I’d done it.

One final check to make sure that I had no food caught between my teeth, and I was ready to leave. Then I saw Teegan’s face reflected in the mirror. She was watching me, her lips turned down, her expression miserable. But when I turned round, she merely looked petulant. Frowning, I wondered if I’d imagined the look on her face. I didn’t think so.

‘Look, squirt, I’m sorry I’m not going on holiday with you. I’m going to miss you and Mum, honest I am.’

‘I didn’t mean it about hating Andrew,’ Teegan muttered at last.

‘I know. Tell you what, I’ll help you with your school project when I get back. OK?’

‘Where are you going?’

‘None of your business, nosy ratbag.’ I pushed past her and down the stairs.

Teegan followed behind me. ‘Mum . . . Mum! Jayna is going out!’

I turned to glare at my sister. It was just that kind of stunt which made me want to throttle her.

Mum emerged from the living room as if jet-propelled, her blue pleated skirt swirling around her calves. Holding a newspaper in one hand, she pushed her glasses further up towards the bridge of her nose with the other. ‘Where are you going, Jayna?’

‘Out.’

‘Out where?’

‘Just out.’

‘Jayna . . .’

I took a deep breath. Then I spoke slowly and clearly. ‘I don’t know where I’m going yet. I just thought I’d go for a walk. Any objections?’

‘Good riddance,’ Teegan piped up behind me.

Mum shook her head at me before going back into the living room. I stared after her. I felt like I’d been dismissed. Furious, I slammed out of the house. Once my feet hit the garden path, I started to run. I wanted to get as far away as possible. I ran up the road and kept running, not sure where I was going.

All this just because Mum didn’t like my boyfriend. But why didn’t she like Andrew? I wasn’t asking her to adopt him. All she had to do was give him a chance. She didn’t know him, as I kept telling her, but that didn’t matter because she didn’t want to know him. And with this holiday business she’d probably dislike him even more now.

I ran and ran until a stitch in my side brought me skidding to a halt. Bending over, I gasped for breath. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t get Mum’s hurt expression out of my mind.

Over the last few months, I’d been totally mean to Mum. What had Teegan called me? ‘Really horrible’? Well, she was right. I knew it. And I knew why. Because Andrew’s parents were exactly the same as Mum. They didn’t really know me but that made no difference. They didn’t like me.

I remembered the first time I’d gone round to Andrew’s house. He obviously hadn’t thought it at all necessary to tell his family that I was black, but he should have done as they’d all gawped at me, their mouths open like drowning fish.

Morgan had turned to his brother and said, ‘Andrew, you must be joking.’

Mrs Harrison had been too shocked to say a word. I’d thought she was about to hit the deck for sure. At least Mr Harrison had tried. He’d smiled weakly and shaken my hand and said, ‘Welcome!’

I’d felt about as welcome as a slice of beef on a vegan’s dinner plate.

Since then, Mrs Harrison and I had barely exchanged three sentences at any one time. Around me, Andrew’s mum walked like she had a permanent pong under the nose, her head tilted so far back that I was tempted to walk around with a can of aerosol air-freshener just so I could squirt the whole lot up her nostrils.

Andrew just laughed about it. I did too, but inside, deep inside, there was a place where laughter didn’t reach. I told myself that I shouldn’t care – after all, I was going out with Andrew, not his parents – but it didn’t help. And as for Andrew’s toxic brother Morgan . . . Just saying his name left a sour taste in my mouth. In fact, the less said about him the better.

So I guess that’s why I was mean to Mum. Because she’d behaved almost the same way when she met Andrew, and I’d really thought my mum would have known better, should have known better. What was it with the Jurassic generation and their prehistoric snobbery?

I straightened up and sighed as my stitch finally faded. All that running had left me hot and sticky. August was turning out to be hotter than July. I looked up at the clear sky. At least the sun was beginning to set now; the evening had to get cooler and I stood still, admiring the burning pinks and oranges of the sunset for a few moments. Then I remembered where I was. Feeling like a complete lemon, I looked quickly up and down the street. Luckily no one was watching. I glanced down at my watch. A quarter past eight. I didn’t want to go home yet, but where could I go? Being on my own didn’t appeal at all. Andrew. I’d go to see Andrew.

But Andrew’s mother . . .

She was pretty daunting, but at that moment I needed to see Andrew badly. Maybe we could go and see a film, or get something to eat. Somewhere where we could be alone. Andrew always made me laugh and, just lately, it felt as if I was beginning to forget how. I was so tired of quarrels with Mum and my sister, quarrels that left a bitter taste in my mouth even after I’d forgotten what they were about in the first place. Mum, Teegan and I had always been close, but that was all changing and I didn’t know how to stop it.

Andrew . . .

Andrew would cheer me up. As for Mrs Harrison, I’d just have to bite my lip, hold onto my temper and put up with her. My mind made up, I set off.

3

‘MUM HATES THE idea of us going on holiday together,’ I said, sitting on Andrew’s bed. With my index finger I traced the moss-green spirals and swirls on his duvet cover. Beyond Andrew’s open window the sunset had turned the sky assorted glorious colours. It was so beautiful and I began to relax properly for the first time that evening.

‘Does that mean you’re not coming?’ Andrew said seriously.

‘No. It’s my life, not my mum’s.’ I shrugged, then smiled. ‘Maybe she thinks you’ll abandon me somewhere in the back of beyond for some blonde bimbette with big boobs.’

‘Never. You’re my one and only bimbette! Besides, your boobs are more than acceptable,’ Andrew teased.

‘That’s because I’m wearing my cowboy bra.’

‘Your what?’

‘My cowboy bra. It rounds them up, herds them together . . .’

‘And moves them out? Jayna, that’s terrible!’

‘I know.’ I grinned. ‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome. I mean it, though, you’re all I’ve got – all that’s worth having, at any rate.’

‘What about your brother Morgan?’ I tried to keep a straight face but failed miserably. We fell about, laughing.

I love it when Andrew laughs. He laughs with his whole face, not just his eyes. He’s very Celtic-looking. Jade-green irises with specks of brown, and coal-black hair. Good teeth too! I smiled at him, then lowered my gaze, afraid I was drooling.

‘So have your parents got used to the idea?’ I asked, my smile fading.

Andrew’s pause before answering was just a tad too long. ‘Dad thinks we’re responsible people so he doesn’t mind so much. Mum . . . Well, it doesn’t matter what either of them thinks really,’ he finished lamely.

‘Our mums aren’t making this very easy for us,’ I sighed.

‘That’s up to them. We’re off on holiday this weekend and there’s nothing your mum or my parents can say to stop us.’

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘Positive.’ He looked at me and I looked down at the duvet, still tracing the patterns with my finger. We sat in silence. I had something on my mind that was taking its time getting to my mouth. At last it arrived.

‘Andrew, I . . . I’m really nervous about our holiday. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.’

‘Jayna . . .’

‘No, let me finish.’ I had to get this out into the open. ‘Andrew, you know how I feel about you and you already know that I’ve . . . well, I’ve never . . . been with anyone before, but . . .’

‘But you’re nervous.’ Andrew put his hand under my chin and raised my head. ‘And getting grief from your mum, and then there are my parents, and you’re wondering if maybe we aren’t rushing things a bit.’

‘What makes you so smart?’ I sighed with relief.

‘Burgers, milkshakes, all kinds of junk food! That and . . . caring about you. Jayna, I want to go on holiday with you, be alone with you. I want to . . . well, make it with you.’ Two spots of colour appeared on his cheeks. ‘But if you decide you’re not ready, then I can wait.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ he said firmly. ‘Just as long as we still go on holiday. I think we both need a break.’

‘So you still want us to go away together?’

‘Of course. Don’t you?’

I nodded and looked down again. ‘Andrew . . .’ I wasn’t sure how to continue. ‘Andrew, why are you . . . going out with me?’ My face started to burn as soon as the words were out. My fingers were even busier over the duvet cover than before. The room went suddenly very quiet. ‘No, never mind. It doesn’t matter,’ I said quickly.

‘Doesn’t it?’

I glanced at him.

‘Doesn’t it?’ He prompted again when I didn’t answer. ‘Jayna, I’m going out with you because I care about you. You know that.’

‘You didn’t . . . care about me when we first started going out.’

‘No, but I liked you – a lot. You’re intelligent . . .’

‘A Mastermind contestant.’

‘You make me laugh . . .’

‘I can’t help the way I look.’

‘Beautiful . . .’

‘Especially from behind.’

‘You’re the only one who listens to me . . .’

‘The list is endless.’

‘And you never take anything seriously,’ Andrew said, exasperated.

‘I can’t take that load of twaddle seriously,’ I scoffed.

‘Then what will you believe?’ Andrew asked.

‘Your answer to my next question.’ I looked down again. I was getting to know that duvet cover really well. ‘I’m not . . .’ I couldn’t think of how to frame the question. Spit it out, Jayna, I thought to myself. ‘Andrew, I’m not just an . . . experiment, am I?’ I hated to ask but I’d heard my aunt ask my mum that exact same question. I glanced up. Andrew’s smile had vanished.

‘Who told you that? My brother?’

‘Morgan has nothing to do with this,’ I replied.

‘Who, then? My mum? Your mum?’

I shook my head. ‘Just someone. Does it matter?’

‘Yes, it does. I’m fed up to the back teeth with everyone sticking their nose into my business and telling me how to run my life.’

‘You still haven’t answered my question.’

Andrew’s face grew redder as I watched. His whole body was taut. He was about to blow a fuse.

‘Calm down. I only wondered,’ I said hastily. ‘Look, forget I said anything . . .’

‘Of course you’re not an experiment.’ Andrew’s voice was lower and deeper than usual. He was really angry. ‘What the hell does that even mean?’

‘Yeah, I had trouble figuring it out too.’ I shrugged.

‘But you thought I would know?’

‘Andy, I never said that.’

‘And after all these months of going out together, I’m surprised you even had to ask. I thought you had more sense.’

Whoa! Now it was my turn to glare. OK, he was annoyed, I got that. But damn!

‘Andrew, I know you’re angry, but don’t get the hump with me. I never said it.’

It took a few moments for my words to sink in. ‘Sorry!’ he mumbled at last.

‘Ouch! I bet that hurt.’ I smiled. Saying sorry wasn’t one of Andrew’s strong points!

‘You’ll never know how much.’ We both started laughing again.

‘Andrew, would you and your friend like something to eat?’ Andrew’s mum thrust open the door and then knocked. I know exactly what she hoped to catch us doing!

‘Jayna, are you hungry?’ Andrew asked.

I shook my head.

‘Well, if you’re sure, Andrew,’ Mrs Harrison said in her cut-glass voice. She did a quick look around the room before leaving reluctantly. I stared at the door, fighting – and failing – to keep the frown off my face.

‘Why does your mother never ask me any questions directly?’

‘She does,’ Andrew said, surprised.

‘Bull jobbies! Your mother doesn’t even look at me.’

‘Don’t talk wet!’ he laughed.

‘I’m not. Your mum is not very subtle, is she?’

‘She’s more subtle than your mum.’

I frowned. ‘Just what does that mean?’

‘Nothing. Never mind. Can we drop the subject?’

‘No! We cannot drop the subject.’ I scowled.

‘Look, Jayna, I don’t want to argue with you.’

‘You never do,’ I snapped. Sometimes I wondered if Andrew’s motto wasn’t ‘Anything for a quiet life’.

‘And what does that mean!’ His voice went quiet.

‘Never mind . . .’

Silence.

‘Oh God! We’re not turning into our parents, are we?’ Andrew said, appalled.

We both creased up at that when, once again, the bedroom door flew open.

‘Andrew, are you sure there’s nothing I can get you?’ said his mum.

‘You asked us that about two seconds ago.’ He frowned.

‘Did I?’ Mrs Harrison’s smile was applied a little too brightly. ‘I’m sorry, darling, but if I don’t pester you to eat you’d forget to do so.’

‘For God’s sake, Mum, don’t fuss.’

Mrs Harrison fixed her son with an unblinking stare and a painted-on smile. I glared at her, willing her to turn her head and look at me, acknowledge my presence. Just a quick glance would do. She turned with a forced laugh and left the room.

‘Why is it whenever I come to your house, I feel like I’m either a ghost or I’m having an out-of-body experience? You seem to be the only one in your family who can see me,’ I fumed.

Andrew sighed. I opened my mouth to have a good rant but Andrew kissed me – mainly to shut me up, I reckon, but a kiss is still a kiss.

I put my arms round his neck and kissed him back. If anyone had told me a couple of years ago that I’d be kissing spotty, snotty Andrew Harrison whom I’d known since junior school, I would have laughed in their face – either that or upchucked in it! Andrew Harrison, who turned lobster-red in the weakest sunshine and who used to be so wet that you had to swim around him. But here I was, not only kissing him but enjoying it. Until the bedroom door flew open for the third time.

Andrew and I sprang apart.

‘Andrew dear, your Aunt Heather is on the phone. She wants to speak to you.’

That did it! ‘I’m going now, Andrew,’ I said, standing up.

I was probably playing straight into Mrs Harrison’s hands – leaving her house as she intended – but I’d had enough. If I gave in now to the spite I felt, I would’ve sat on Andrew’s bed and not moved until well after midnight.

‘Jayna, don’t go.’ Andrew sprang off the bed and put his hands on my shoulders.

‘I’ve got to,’ I replied, adding for his ears only, ‘I promised Pete I’d meet him at the Burger Bar.’

Actually my friend Diane had told me that a whole group of my classmates were heading down there for a meal after going to the local multiplex. But Andrew didn’t have to know that.

‘Why’re you meeting Pete?’ Andrew was furious. I loved it when he got jealous. And he always did!

‘Andrew, Aunt Heather is on the phone,’ his mum reminded him. ‘She wants to speak to you.’

‘Sod Aunt Heather!’

‘Andrew!’ Mrs Harrison was shocked. Andrew liked his Aunt Heather and wouldn’t normally have been so rude about her but his mum was seriously provoking him. Anyone with gravel for brains could see that.

I took a quick glance in her direction. Now her eyes were on me, her stare accusatory.

Don’t look at me, I thought sourly. Your son said it, not me. But from her look I could tell that she thought it was my fault. Not only did I lower the tone of her household, but also of her son’s manners. I picked up my jacket from where it had been flung over the bedroom chair.

‘Andrew, I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?’ I said quietly.

‘Jayna, wait.’ Andrew grabbed my hand before I could leave the room.

‘Andrew . . .’ said Mrs Harrison. ‘Your aunt—’

‘Hang on a minute, Mum,’ Andrew said angrily. ‘Just wait here, Jayna. Please. Two minutes. Just until I get rid of my aunt. Please.’

Pause.

‘Oh, all right, then.’ Why was it that all Andrew had to do was say please and I’d give in and crumble like a stale ginger biscuit? I’m too soft, I thought with a sigh.

He left the room and I heard him run down the stairs. I was about to sit down on his bed until he came back when I realized that I wasn’t alone. Mrs Harrison was just inside the doorway, watching me. I regarded her, determined not to look away first, even though she had every hair on my body standing up and prickling.

‘Is something wrong?’ I asked.

‘Yes, and I think you know what it is. Whilst Andrew is downstairs, I think you and I should have a little chat.’

4

‘A CHAT ABOUT what?’ I asked, feigning ignorance.

Mrs Harrison carefully shut the bedroom door behind her. Why was I reminded of a spider’s web? She straightened up to look me over, up, down and sideways.

Jayna, don’t lose your temper.

‘I don’t want you to go on holiday with my son.’ Mrs Harrison wasn’t mucking about. She was in shoot-to-kill mode.

‘Why?’ I tried to keep my tone even.

‘I don’t want Andrew to get hurt.’

I counted to ten. Then counted to ten again. ‘I don’t understand. How is Andrew going to get hurt by going on holiday with me?’

‘You’re not right for . . . each other. And suppose you get into trouble? I don’t want Andrew’s life ruined.’

Get into trouble . . .?

It took a second or two to realize what she meant by that. How quaint!

‘What trouble could I possibly get into if Andrew’s with me?’ I feigned yet more ignorance.

Mrs Harrison’s lips were so thin as to be practically non-existent. I smiled enquiringly at her, wondering if she’d have the guts to just come out and say what was on her mind.

Then I asked, ‘Which prospect bothers you the most, I wonder? Being a grandma, or being a grandma of a baby of colour?’

Mrs Harrison went pale and stared at me. I’d shocked her and I wasn’t sorry either, but to tell the truth I was a little surprised at myself for being so blunt. It wasn’t like me but she really got on my nerves.

‘That’s not what I said,’ Andrew’s mum replied.

Yeah, but that’s what you meant!

‘Then how are Andrew and I – what was it you said? – “not right for each other”?’

‘Because . . . because you’re . . . just not.’

Coward! Why not be honest? Why don’t you just come right out and say it?

‘Jayna, I’m asking you to tell Andrew that you’ve changed your mind about going on holiday with him.’

‘But I haven’t. So why should I lie?’

‘Do you know what you are doing to my family? All any of us do these days is argue about you.’

That spiteful remark found its target. And it hurt. First home, now here. I stared at the resentful look on her face. I’d seen the same look earlier that day, on my mum’s face.

‘Jayna, I—’ The door was pushed open and Andrew strode into the room, only to stop abruptly when he saw his mum and me regarding each other. I looked down at the carpet, thrusting my hands deep into my jacket pockets.

‘I’m leaving now, Andrew. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ I said quietly.

‘Mum? What’ve you been saying?’ Andrew asked.

‘Forget it, Andy.’ I headed for the bedroom door and escape.

Andrew was glaring at his mum now. Me? I was tired. Tired of the stares and the glares and the quarrels. Tired, tired, tired.

‘I’ve had just about enough of this.’ Spots of fury dotted across Andrew’s cheeks. ‘Mum, back off. If I want to go out with Jayna, I will, and there’s not a damned thing you or Morgan or anyone else can do about it.’

‘Don’t talk to me like that.’ His mother frowned.

‘Mum, Jayna means a lot to me. I’ve told you that before. If you don’t like that fact, can’t you at least accept it – for my sake, if nothing else?’ Andrew grabbed my arm and pulled me after him past his mother. ‘Jayna, come on. We’re getting out of here.’

Did all parents swallow some kind of pill to turn them into twats? I wondered.

At that moment I missed my dad, very much. He would have been on my side; he always stuck up for me. OK, so Mum’s major objection was that she didn’t want me to get hurt, but Dad would have been more optimistic. He always said that if you went looking for grief or failure you were bound to find it. Mum seemed to think that my relationship with Andrew was doomed. It was funny how alike she and Mrs Harrison were in that respect.

Andrew was still pulling me along when we were out of his house and halfway down the road. The air was cooler now. A gentle breeze whispered across my face. I breathed in deeply and let out my anger with a sigh. The sky was a deep shade of dark blue by now and the full moon had turned the few clouds silvery. Here and there, stars twinkled faintly. It was lovely. I stared up at the sky as we carried on walking. When I tripped over a broken paving stone, I came back down to earth.

‘Andrew, you’re pulling my arm off,’ I complained.

‘They’re driving me nuts!’ Andrew hissed. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if Mum and Dad didn’t have Morgan, and then just found me next to their garden gnome a couple of years later!’

I’d been wondering similar things myself over the last few weeks but I didn’t say anything. Whenever Andrew was in this kind of mood it was best to let him get it all off his chest without interruption. Andrew was generally pretty laid back, but whenever his temper got ignited, stand back!

‘I’ve got Dad in one ear, telling me to give Mum a bit longer to get used to the idea of you and me. But then he gives me a lot of useless advice about handling women, especially black—Well, never mind.’

Never mind? I could hardly believe my ears. What was Mr Harrison suggesting? I opened my mouth to protest, but Andrew was still ranting away. His voice rose as he moved on to the other members of his family. ‘Meanwhile, Mum’s busy whining in the other ear. And then there’s Morgan, spouting off in both my ears. I swear, if it weren’t for Gran and my Aunt Heather, I’d go mental. God, I wish they’d all just leave us alone. These days I constantly feel like I’m drowning, except when I’m with you. Sometimes I feel this close’ – he held his thumb and index finger together – ‘to lashing out, breaking out. Breaking something . . .’

‘Andrew . . .’ I said softly.

He stopped marching and frowned at me. I kissed him, there and then. Usually, I didn’t go for that sort of thing in the street, but at that moment we both needed to be kissed. He sighed and just like that his tirade was over.

‘All the same,’ I said as we carried on walking together, holding hands, ‘I don’t think I’ll go back to your house again.’

‘Because of my mother? Don’t let her get to you. She’s not worth it. Besides, in three days’ time we’ll be on holiday. Together. Alone. Away from our families. Hallelujah!’

‘Your mum doesn’t even try to hide the fact that she dislikes me,’ I complained.

‘Forget her.’ He shrugged. ‘You’re not going to let her chase you away, are you?’

‘She’s very rude.’

‘So is your mum.’

I couldn’t argue with that. ‘So where are we going?’ I asked.

‘The multiplex?’ Andrew suggested. ‘There’s that thriller that I’d like to see. We could go to the late screening.’

I wrinkled up my nose. ‘Do we have to? I’m not in the mood for a blood-and-guts, crash-’em-up, slash-’em-up film.’

‘You can always hide your face in my armpit like you usually do,’ Andrew laughed.

‘I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t insist on dragging me to those kinds of films. You know I don’t like them. Can’t we go to the Burger Bar instead?’

‘Is Pete really going to be there?’

‘Probably.’ I shrugged.

‘Then I’m sticking to you like glue.’

I laughed. ‘What have you got against Pete?’ I did so love it when Andrew got jealous. ‘I thought you two were friends?’

‘We are. But I’ve seen the way he looks at you.’

‘Oh yeah? And what way is that?’

‘Like he’s always been into you and he’d like nothing better than to get into you.’

‘Andrew!’

‘Well, it’s true,’ Andrew said unapologetically.

‘Well, he can’t, ’cause I’m going out with you now, aren’t I?’

‘That won’t stop him from trying!’

‘Of course it will. Pete’s a gent.’

‘And if he isn’t?’

‘Then I’ll stop him.’

‘I’d still like to punch his face in, just to warn him off.’

Oh, hell no. I stopped walking to give Andrew the full benefit of my icy stare.

‘Why don’t you, then?’ I asked.

‘Because you wouldn’t like it,’ Andrew replied with a wry smile.

‘Too right! That sort of macho crap does not impress me. You start that kind of nonsense and I’m out of here.’ And I meant it too.

‘Besides, he’s bigger than me.’ Andrew grinned.

My hero!

5

WHEN WE WALKED into the Burger Bar, it wasn’t just the smell of burgers, pizza slices and chips that stepped up to greet us; all kinds of kissing, slobbering and lip-smacking noises also assailed us.

‘Wonders will never cease! What happened?’ Diane asked.

‘What d’you mean?’ I asked.

‘You two have stopped gazing into each other’s eyes for long enough to give your poor, neglected friends a moment of your time,’ she replied with a smile.

I smiled back, but we both knew she was telling it how it was. Diane and I had been like conjoined twins, joined at the hip, before I started going out with Andrew. Now I couldn’t remember the last time she and I had done anything together, just the two of us. When had we last sat down and chatted, really chatted? Embarrassed, I turned away from her, latching onto the first face in the crowd I saw.

‘Hi, Pete. How are you?’

Pete was gorgeous, the colour of strong coffee (no milk!) – just the way I like it! He had the whitest, most even teeth I’d ever seen away from the cinema screen. I’m into good teeth! He was six foot two and broad but not fat. All the girls in my year panted after him.

‘I’m OK. All the better for seeing you.’ He grinned, making everyone laugh. Except Andrew. Pete always talked to me like that. It was strange to think that Pete and I might have been an item now, if he hadn’t stood me up on our first date!

‘Budge up, then,’ I said, tapping him on the shoulder.

He shifted, squashing everyone else up. I sat down next to him and Andrew sat down directly opposite me. Andrew looked at me and I looked at him. I couldn’t resist a smile and a sly wink. I was sitting next to Pete! Andrew gave me a rueful look, then glanced at Pete before turning back to me. He looked . . . nervous. What did he think I was going to do? Explore Pete’s leg under the table? I smiled to myself, imagining Pete’s reaction. He’d probably jump out of his skin. I gave serious thought to testing out my theory, but decided against it – Andrew would only get the hump and I’d had enough grief for one evening. Besides, I wasn’t into playing games and I didn’t want my boyfriend to think I was.

‘Looking forward to your holiday?’ Pete asked.

I nodded, then shrugged. Did I look as self-conscious as I felt?

‘Is it all sorted out, then?’ he continued.

‘Not quite. My mum is giving me a hard time, but I’m working on her.’ I sighed. ‘So did Andrew tell you about our plans?’

‘That’s right.’ Pete glanced at Andrew. ‘He gave me all the details.’

I looked at Andrew. He was watching Pete carefully. Our holiday wasn’t a big secret, but I sort of wished Andrew hadn’t told anyone – at least, not until we got back.

‘You mean you’re actually going? Your mum is going to let you?’ Diane was amazed. Seeing my raised eyebrows, she explained, ‘Pete told me.’

I sat back in my chair. ‘Is there anyone in this place who doesn’t know my business?’ The question wasn’t altogether a joke.

Everyone laughed and started discussing our holiday. My friends talked about it as if Andrew and I were taking a trip to a supermarket rather than travelling across Europe. That helped a lot. After ten minutes or so, it didn’t seem quite such a big deal.

As I watched Andrew explaining our proposed route, I faded out to think of other things. He’d said he’d be happy to wait until I was ready, but I kept imagining what it would be like to make love with him for the first time. And the second. And the third!

Oh, we’d kissed and petted, but never to the point where I’d got totally carried away. Fumbling around with the lights off or in dark secluded places wouldn’t be the same as being alone and unhurried, with no threat of interruption. My stomach began to rock nervously at the thought. But I loved Andrew – very much – and I wanted him, all of him.

I’d sorted out all the embarrassing but necessary bits too. A month ago, I’d finally plucked up the courage to go to the local family planning clinic. It had been nowhere near as bad as I’d thought it would. They took my blood pressure and weighed me, then I’d had a long chat with one of the doctors. She had been really kind and sympathetic, had listened to what I had to say about me and Andrew and been totally non-judgemental. The end result was I had a contraceptive implant inserted into my upper arm and left the clinic with a lot of advice and a whole brown bag full of condoms. I had to be sensible. I was only seventeen, and I had my life all mapped out for the next ten years. I wanted to go to university, get an English degree, take a year out to go around the world, then train to be a teacher or maybe an advertising copywriter. I’d get my own two-bedroom flat, one bedroom for me, the other for all the musical instruments and books I intended to collect, and only when I was pushing forty would I think about settling down. Pregnancy and babies didn’t feature for years yet. But making love . . .

‘Hey, Jayna! Penny for them.’ Andrew’s teasing voice finally reached me.

‘They’re worth more than that,’ I said, ignoring the burning blush creeping across my face. Thank goodness no one could see it.

Andrew smiled, then kissed the palm of his hand and blew it in my direction. I caught the kiss and pressed it to my lips.

‘Someone pass a sick bag, please!’ Diane grimaced.

And everyone else joined in, making puking noises. I grinned at Andrew.

‘Ignore them. They’re just jealous!’ he said.

We were having a great time, a really good laugh. Even Diane started talking to me again. I began to unwind and it was wonderful. Relaxing and easy. Then I happened to glance towards the door and my heart dropped into my shoes. Every muscle in my body pulled taut. My skin began to prickle.

‘Oh hell!’ I muttered. There was going to be trouble.

Pete heard me. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Andrew’s brother Morgan and his mob have just walked through the door.’

6

‘ANDREW’S BROTHER? SO?’ Pete asked.

‘You don’t know Morgan,’ I replied grimly. ‘He’s a real pig. And remember, you heard it here first.’

Morgan looked around. I waited for him to see us. There would be bother now. I knew it. If I’d been alone I think that maybe, just maybe, I would have slid down into my seat or, at the very least, hidden my face behind a cupped hand.

I glanced at Andrew, who was sharing a joke with Diane across the table, then risked a surreptitious glance towards the door. Morgan was heading straight for us, his three stooges close behind him.

‘Hiya, little brother. I see you’re slumming again,’ he said, looking directly at me.

Odious git-faced toad! All conversation at the table faded and died.

‘It’s always great to see you as well, Morgan,’ I said, inflecting my voice with as much venom as possible.

‘Jayna, you look . . . the same as ever.’

Behind him, Morgan’s cronies grinned like idiots – as per usual. Morgan was dressed in his usual uniform – black jeans that only just made it past his hips, an open black shirt over a grubby white T-shirt, and sunglasses, even though it was now dark outside. He fancied himself something rotten, strutting around as if his clothes were really the business. I thought he looked ridiculous.

‘Morgan, leave Jayna alone.’ Andrew’s voice held patient amusement, as always.

I glared at him. It was always the same. Andrew joked with Morgan, smiled with Morgan – but never took his older brother seriously. He just laughed away all of his insults, like shooing irritating but harmless flies. I placed my hands on my thighs under the table and stretched out my fingers until they began to ache.

‘Andrew, have you thought of giving Battersea Dogs Home a call? I’m sure they’ve got a better class of bitch than the one sitting at this table.’ Morgan smiled at me. A nasty, contemptuous smirk.

‘But wait . . .’ Pete mumbled from beside me. And some of my other friends gasped, unable to believe what they were hearing.

Don’t let him get to you, I told myself – over and over. Don’t let him get to you. But he did. And I couldn’t let an insult like that go without a response.

‘Why don’t you go and play in the traffic?’ I said hotly. ‘Please. And don’t call me a bitch. I’m a woman, not a female dog.’

‘You! A woman?!’ Morgan’s laugh was grating and harsh.

‘Yes, me,’ I replied furiously. ‘And if you weren’t such a fart-faced, pea-brained dickhead you wouldn’t need to be told.’

‘Who are you calling a dickhead?’ Morgan hissed.

‘I got the rest right, then, did I?’

‘That remark is just what I’d expect from a slag like you.’

‘“Slag” is rather a big word for you, isn’t it – you cretinous pig!’ Really childish, I know, but Morgan always brought out the best in me. My friends started to giggle.

‘Morgan, leave it.’ Andrew shook his head. ‘You’re only going to lose. Once Jayna gets going, she’s deadly.’

Morgan looked around the table, then back to me. His bottle-green eyes glinted like cold marble. ‘No wonder your dad did a runner. I bet he couldn’t wait to see the back of you and your family, and who could blame him,’ he said scornfully.

It was like being punched in the stomach. I heard some anonymous gasps before everyone around me went deathly quiet. Pete sprang up, his expression furious. Shaking my head, I pulled him back down to sit beside me again. I turned to face Andrew, finding it hard to breathe, to even think straight. I’d told Andrew the real truth about my dad in the strictest confidence – how Dad had left us before the awfulness of his death – and here was his brother twisting my words and playing them back to me. I hadn’t even told Diane all the facts about Dad. Just the edited highlights. Several weeks had passed before even Mum and I could talk about it without one or both of us breaking down completely. Outside of my family, no one knew the truth, except Andrew.

Andrew looked at me, regret clouding his eyes, seven shades of red painting his face and neck. Deliberately, I turned away from him to face Morgan.

‘You keep your filthy mouth off my dad. He’s . . . he’s dead now, so just keep your foul remarks to yourself,’ I said quietly.

It was as if some almost unbearable weight had been placed on my chest, making each breath a painful effort. My fingers were stretched out so hard that not only the joints but my very bones ached. Sand, coarse and gritty, sat in my throat, choking me. Tears stung my eyes like merciless wasps.

‘Living on the other side of England wasn’t quite far enough away from you, then?’ Morgan said, enjoying himself. ‘Just dying to get right away, was he?’

I leaped up. Morgan grinned at me, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. Before I could think about what I was doing, I slapped his face. The gleam vanished. He stared at me. I was dimly aware of my palm stinging and Andrew moving to stand in front of me.

‘Why, you—’ Morgan moved towards me.

‘Morgan, you deserved that. You were right out of order with that remark,’ Andrew said sharply. ‘I think you’d better go now.’

I wished Andrew would move out of the way. My kneecap was itching to meet Morgan’s goolies.

‘You’d better keep that slag out of my way.’ Morgan jabbed his finger in my direction. I didn’t say anything. ‘You can thank your lucky stars that Andrew was here to look after you,’ he added to me.

‘I can look after myself,’ I told him.

He glowered at me. I scowled back.

‘Watch yourself,’ he said quietly. And off he strode, followed by his sheep, who each directed a filthy look at me before they left the Burger Bar.

‘Did you have to do that?’ Andrew rounded on me in front of all our friends as soon as the door shut behind the last of his brother’s minions.

‘What do you mean?’ I frowned.

‘Don’t you think you rather overreacted? If only you two—’

‘Overreacted! Are you serious?’ I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

‘Why let him get to you? You know what he’s like. If you ignored him or laughed at him the way I do, he’d leave you alone.’

I stretched out my fingers again. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pete slowly shaking his head at Andrew. At least someone was on my side.

‘Was I supposed to sit and smile while your brother bad-mouthed my family?’ I asked. ‘And thank you so much for telling him about my dad. It’s nice to know that you can be trusted to keep my secrets.’

‘Jayna, that’s not fair.’ Andrew moved towards me, his arms outstretched.

I pushed his hands away, then without another word I turned and ran out of the Burger Bar.

7

THE NIGHT WAS dark and still. I raced into it, wishing it would swallow me up. The tears that had been stinging my eyes for release now clouded my vision and formed rivers down my cheeks.

‘Jayna, hang on! I’m sorry!’

Andrew chased after me, but I didn’t stop running. Inside . . . inside I was bleeding.

‘Jayna, wait. I’m really sorry.’ He grabbed my arm and spun me round to face him. ‘Jayna, please. I just happened to mention it at home once. I didn’t know Morgan was going to twist what I said like that.’

‘And yet you blamed me for not humouring your brother when he started mocking me about how my dad died?’ I said bitterly.

‘I swear I didn’t mean it like that,’ Andrew replied. ‘I . . . I was just—’

‘Did you tell your family that my dad did a bunk to get away from us?’ I interrupted, brushing an imaginary hair out of my eyes. Andrew tried to take my hand in his. I pulled away angrily.

‘You know I wouldn’t say a thing like that,’ said Andrew.

‘Then what did you tell them?’

Andrew took a deep breath. ‘I said your dad had left for a while but that he came back before he died.’

‘I see. And did you tell them how my dad died?’

Andrew opened his mouth but nothing came out. He nodded slowly. ‘Jayna, I promise you . . .’

I wasn’t having it. ‘I told you about my dad on the strict understanding that you wouldn’t tell anyone else, especially not your family.’ My voice cracked with hurt. ‘I trusted you. Why would you stab me in the back by telling Morgan of all people?’

‘I’m sorry.’ Andrew looked genuinely contrite but it was too little too late.

‘I’d never betray you like that, Andrew. I swear, I’ll never tell you another of my secrets.’ My words may have been quietly spoken but there was real force behind them.

‘Jayna, please. It won’t happen again.’

Too bloody right. ‘I’m going home now.’

‘Jayna . . .’

‘I’m tired, Andrew.’

‘Jayna, please. I – I said I was sorry.’

‘And that makes everything OK now, does it?’ I regarded him stonily. ‘Sometimes, Andrew, I wonder why I bother with you. I’d be far better off with Pete.’

‘Don’t say that!’ Andrew was furious. ‘Don’t ever say that.’

‘Why not? It’s true. You can’t keep secrets and you don’t consider my feelings at all. Sometimes when I’m with you, all I can see and hear is your mother and your brother. You weren’t found on their doorstep. You’re a Harrison all right.’

I didn’t mean it, not really. At least, not all of it. I just wanted to lash out. But my words had the appropriate effect. Andrew drew himself up and became very still. Now we were both hurting. But his hurt didn’t lessen mine one iota.

‘I guess I had that coming,’ he said at last.

I didn’t reply. I just looked at Andrew, and he looked at me. Moments turned into minutes.

‘So . . . are we still going on holiday this weekend or are you calling it off?’ he asked.

I looked up at the silver moon, cold and remote. The peaceful, uncomplicated life I longed for seemed to be up there with it. Why was nothing ever easy?

‘Do you want to call it off?’ I prevaricated.

‘No, I don’t,’ Andrew answered immediately. ‘I want to be with you, alone with you. And we both need to get away.’

That was true. If I had any more days like this one, I’d go loopy. I’d never had a day like it. From the moment I’d woken up, all I’d had to do to start a quarrel was look at someone – and sometimes not even that much.

‘You shouldn’t have told your family about my dad,’ I sniffed. ‘I told you it was a secret.’

‘I know. I’m really sorry.’ Andrew drew his thumbs gently across my cheeks, wiping away the last of my tears.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, drawing the cool night-time air into my overheated body. ‘So what’re we doing tomorrow and Friday?’ I looked around, anywhere but at Andrew.

Andrew thought for a moment. ‘How about if I come round to your house tomorrow and talk to your mum?’

He had my full attention now. ‘Talk to her about what?’

‘About our holiday.’

I stared at him. ‘You must be joking!’

‘No, I think I should. I want her to know I’m serious about you. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I want her to know that.’

‘I don’t know . . .’ I said doubtfully.

‘Leave everything to me,’ smiled Andrew. ‘And, Jayna . . .’

‘Yeah?’

‘I really am sorry.’

His remorse was genuine, so how could I stay mad at him? I dredged up a smile.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered.

Then he kissed me. And just like always, I forgave him.

The next day, Andrew came to see Mum just as he’d promised, or should I say threatened? We all sat down on the sofa and he brought out our itinerary and various maps. He went through every kilometre of our holiday until Mum knew more about it than I did.

While she still wasn’t mad keen on the idea, I think Mum realized that come hell or high water Andrew and I were going away together. Andrew stayed at our house all day, in spite of the subtle and not so subtle hints I directed at him – like blinking and winking and kicking him in the shins under the dinner table. He ended up having lunch and dinner at our house, something he’d never done before. During dinner, I caught Mum reluctantly smiling to herself. She’s no fool and she knew what he was doing. But even so, Andrew’s gesture went down better than I thought it would.

Later that evening, after Andrew had gone home, Mum came into my bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her. I recognized the look on her face from the day before. She was going to talk about sex again. Why did adults of her generation and beyond have such a problem discussing something so normal and natural? Sex. Sex. Sex. The word didn’t scare me!

‘Jayna, I want to ask you something. And it’s not because I’m being nosy.’

‘I’m listening.’

‘Are you on the Pill or something?’

There was a moment’s silence before I answered. My damned face was beginning to burn again. ‘I decided to go for one of those contraceptive implants,’ I admitted.

Mum came and sat down on my bed. ‘Since when?’

‘Since a month ago.’

‘Are you still a virgin?’

Jeez! Embarrassing much? ‘Yes, Mum.’ My face was on fire. Hell! Stop sounding so defensive, I told myself.

‘Jayna, please be careful.’ Mum sighed. ‘I care about you. I don’t want to see you disappointed or hurt.’

‘I won’t be, Mum. I promise.’

She looked like she wanted to say something else but didn’t know how. So in the end she decided to say nothing. She held out her arms, and after a moment’s hesitation I moved into them. We hugged – something we haven’t done in a long, long time. It felt strange, like a hug hello or a hug goodbye.

‘You’re not going to change your mind about the holiday?’ asked Mum.

‘No, Mum,’ I sighed.

‘You always were stubborn.’ She sat back and looked at me. ‘Once you’ve made up your mind to do something, I might as well go and waste my breath arguing with the wall.’

‘You always said my ears were stuck in my backside.’ I smiled faintly.

‘That’s what my mother used to say about me. And it sure applies to you.’

‘Now I know where I got my stubborn streak from,’ I said. ‘It’s inherited!’

Mum raised a hand to lightly stroke my cheek. She sighed. ‘Parenthood involves too many painful episodes of letting go, of realizing your children are getting older and no longer need you.’

‘I’ll always need you, Mum,’ I said. ‘But what I need more than anything else is for you to be on my side.’

Mum nodded. ‘Love, I’ll always be on your side. But I wouldn’t be much of a mum if I didn’t tell you when I think you’re making a mistake.’

‘D’you still feel that way about Andrew and me going away on holiday together?’ I asked.

Mum shrugged. Not a ringing endorsement, but still progress – of a sort.

‘Mum, what would you have done if I hadn’t already been to the family planning clinic?’ I asked.

‘I would have marched you down there first thing tomorrow,’ said Mum briskly.

‘Oh, I see.’

‘Did Andrew go there with you?’ she asked after a pause.

‘No, I went by myself.’

‘Next time, get him to go too. It’s his responsibility as well as yours.’ Mum stood up and walked to the door. She turned round and said softly, ‘Enjoy your holiday.’

I couldn’t believe it. I’d won. I could go! Instantly, my eyes started stinging. I had to fight to control myself. I couldn’t let Mum see me cry. What would she make of that? I nodded. As she left the room, I wanted to call her back, to hug her and hold her and be her little girl again. But I kept silent. I wanted it both ways. Not possible. I was only just beginning to realize it, but I’d made my choice when I said yes to Andrew about going on holiday with him. There was no going back now, even if I wanted to – which I didn’t.

I was going on holiday with my boyfriend.

And it would be my chance to show him just how much he meant to me.

8

ANDREW CAME TO pick me up at about eight o’clock on Saturday morning. From the moment the doorbell rang, my heart tried to beat its way right out of my chest. Teegan said very little to Andrew, and Mum didn’t say much either, but it didn’t matter.

I hugged and kissed them both and whispered in Mum’s ear, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll phone.’

‘Just make sure you do,’ she replied.

Andrew helped me put on my backpack. I did up the buckles and turned back to Mum and my sister.

‘Bye,’ I said. It seemed so inadequate.

‘Bye, Mrs Lucas. Bye, Teegan. We’ll send you postcards from every place we visit,’ smiled Andrew.

Mum nodded and turned away. Teegan watched, tears in her eyes. This would be the first year we hadn’t all gone on holiday together. Then Andrew and I left the house, and we were finally on our way.

On the train, all the way down to the coast, I still couldn’t believe that we’d managed it. Even on the deck of the ferry, watching the British coastline disappear, I couldn’t quite take it in. This couldn’t be real, and yet it was happening to me! I raised my head, feeling sophisticated, mature. I was actually going on holiday with my boyfriend! And then I felt really childish for feeling sophisticated in the first place! I closed my eyes, smelling the salt air and feeling the brisk, cool breeze on my face. It was a beautiful day and it could only get better.

‘We did it, Jayna,’ whispered Andrew.

I nodded happily. He put his arm round my shoulders. Then a cramp from hell doubled me over. I unbuckled my backpack and let it fall off my back, all in about three seconds flat.

‘I’ll be right back,’ I gasped, and bolted for the nearest ladies’ loo.

My worst suspicions were confirmed. I’d thought that being on the implant would ensure that my periods were more regular not less. Got that wrong in a big way! I closed my eyes and leaned against the cubicle door, wanting to kick it in.

‘Jayna? Are you OK?’

‘Andrew?’ I unbolted my door. ‘For goodness’ sake, this is the ladies’ loo. Suppose someone comes in.’ I looked around anxiously.

‘Sod ’em. What’s the matter?’

I looked down at my shoes, my heart pounding, my stomach aching. ‘I . . . my period has started. I’m at least a week early,’ I said, adding miserably, ‘Sorry.’

‘What are you apologizing for? How are you feeling?’

‘Cramp and slight backache, not as bad as usual. This whole holiday business must have wound me up more than I thought. And they did warn me that the contraceptive implant might initially disrupt my cycle. Plus it’s happened before. It also went haywire just before my exams.’ I was babbling!

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Andrew smiled. ‘Do you want me to bring your backpack? I’ve left it just outside.’

‘No, it’s OK. I always keep a couple of tampons in my shoulder bag.’

‘I’ll wait for you outside.’

I nodded. Andrew walked towards the door. ‘Sorry, Andrew,’ I called after him.

He walked back to me. ‘Shut up, Jayna. It’s not important, I promise. I’m with you and that’s what counts.’

‘So you’re not disappointed?’ I frowned – I’d be upset if he wasn’t just a tiny bit disappointed.

‘Maybe just a little,’ he said ruefully. ‘But like I told you before, I can wait.’ And he kissed me, slow and deep.

It would have been a long one as well, if some old biddy hadn’t chosen just that moment to walk into the loos. Andrew and I sprang apart guiltily. The woman, who must have been at least fifty, with dyed red hair and dark-brown drawn-in eyebrows, looked up at the sign on the outside of the door and then back at us.

‘Do you mind! These are the ladies’ toilets!’ She frowned.

‘I was just going,’ Andrew replied. And he scarpered past her.

The woman looked at me. ‘I was young once too,’ she said. ‘But really!’

‘Sorry,’ I mumbled and went back into my cubicle.

When I rejoined Andrew on the deck, he grinned sheepishly at me. We didn’t say a word, just fell about laughing. He put his arms round me and we kissed again, this time out in the open, so no unexpected interruptions. I was so happy. This was going to be the best holiday of my life.

I could feel it.

9

IT BEGAN BETTER than either of us had dared imagine. We were armed with our Young Person’s Railcards, our book of youth hostels across Europe, our backpacks and enough enthusiasm to sink a continent. We avoided major towns and spent our nights in youth hostels, sharing each room we had with at least four other people. Once, when we decided to walk to the next town and underestimated our progress, we had to spend the night in a small tent in a field, at least ten miles from the nearest hostel. But even that was fun, because it was new and exciting and different – and we were alone! We joined our sleeping bags together and cuddled up. We had a good kiss and cuddle even though we both wore pyjamas in case someone came along. It was wonderful.

Slowly but surely, London and our families and friends all faded away. And as the rest of the world retreated, so Andrew, and how I felt about him, seemed to take over. All the grief, the arguments, the rough times, they were all worth it. Or rather, Andrew was worth it. Not a day passed without Andrew telling me that he loved me. Neither of us had really said the words that much before. But now, away from everyone else, it was as if we were two new people – or rather, the two people we could and would be if our respective families would just back off. And Andrew didn’t just say the words: he made sure I felt them – in the way he opened doors for me, pulled out chairs for me to sit, made sure I walked on the inside of him, closest to the shops and away from the road. In every smile he turned my way, in every gesture he made, I was . . . cherished.

The first week of our holiday flew by. We were pretty much wrapped up in ourselves, although we did make friends at a couple of the youth hostels we stayed at and exchanged telephone numbers. But all too soon we were beginning the second week of our holiday, with the final week closer. I didn’t want it ever to end.

We changed our plans slightly and swapped our itinerary around – Andrew and I both liked the idea of heading south ahead of schedule to warmer climes. The things we’d planned to do in the third week we decided to begin in the second. Late Tuesday afternoon of the second week, Andrew and I arrived in a small town called Fipoli. All the way there on the train, Andrew had this secretive smile on his face. And he wouldn’t tell me why. When we got to the youth hostel I found out the reason.

‘Hi! I’m Andrew Harrison. This is Jayna Lucas.’ Andrew smiled at the receptionist.

‘Ciao! I am Luka.’ The receptionist smiled back. ‘You want two beds for the night, yes? You have booked them already?’

‘Yes, I’ve booked a private room with an ensuite bathroom,’ Andrew said evenly. ‘For two nights.’

I stared at him. He didn’t bat an eyelid, as if he did this sort of thing all the time! My face started to burn and I risked a glance at Luka. He was tall and relatively good-looking, with dark-brown hair and thick eyebrows. His light-blue eyes were friendly, but sharp, and he spoke with a lilting accent. He was kind of old, though – at least thirty-five.

Looking at him, I wondered if he could tell I’d never done this before. It felt as if a neon sign of pointing arrows and innuendo had suddenly appeared above my head.

‘We arranged the room for two nights next week, but we changed our plans,’ Andrew continued. ‘I did phone ahead to ask if we could have the room for tonight and tomorrow of this week instead.’

Luka glanced at the small computer screen on the desk before him. ‘Ah yes, I have it now. We have your room available for two nights as requested. There will be a small administration charge for the change of plan as discussed over the phone. This is OK?’

‘Jayna?’ Andrew looked at me.

I shrugged, looking what I hoped was nonchalant. I too wanted to look as though I did this sort of thing all the time. ‘That’s OK. We’ll take the room.’

‘Bene!’

I listened as Andrew sorted out the rest of the details. I picked up a brochure on the reception desk about the hostel. Wow! Not bad! Cable TV, free WiFi, breakfast included, common room, this place even had a restaurant and bar. Some of the gloss was taken off by the fact that the one and only lift wasn’t working and our room was on the third floor. But it could’ve been worse.

As we made our way upstairs to our room, I said, ‘I’m very impressed. How did you manage it?’

‘Skill, charm, charisma . . .’

I laughed. ‘Don’t forget modesty.’

‘I found out which hostels in which countries catered for couples, and as this one was on our proposed route I booked the room in advance from London,’ Andrew explained.

‘You booked it that far in advance? You were very sure of me,’ I said slowly.

‘No, I wasn’t.’ Andrew shook his head. ‘I was . . . hopeful, that’s all. If you’d said no, sleeping in the same bed would’ve been enough. Hard, but enough! And even now, if you need more time, just say so.’

I cupped my palm against one of his cheeks. He really was something special. Andrew turned his face to kiss my palm, then we carried on up the stairs.

It was a small room, about the size of our kitchen back home. The paintwork was a dingy yellow and peeling off the walls in places, and there was a double bed against one wall with an empty painted wooden wardrobe opposite it. That was it. But it was ours.

‘Here, let me help you get that backpack off,’ Andrew said.

I turned my back to him and started to unbuckle the pack. Inexplicably, I was nervous. Actually that was an understatement – rhinos were charging up and down in my stomach. Andrew lifted the pack off my shoulders and put it on the floor between the far side of the bed and the window. Then he took his own pack off and placed it next to mine. First things first: I went over to the bed and flung back the covers to check the sheets. They were clean. Thank goodness for that! The first thing I did in any hotel or hostel room was check the sheets. Sitting on the bed, I started lightly bouncing up and down to test how comfortable the mattress was. This one didn’t seem too bad – some of the beds we’d slept on to date were so thin, it had been like sleeping on carrier bags.

‘So what should we do now?’ I asked. With a smile still on my face, I looked up – and stopped bouncing.

Andrew’s expression instantly had my face flaming. He sat down beside me on the bed and I struggled to find something witty or pithy to say until Andrew put me out of my misery by leaning forward to kiss me.

Closing my eyes, I poured my heart into returning his kiss. The next thing I knew, Andrew’s arms were around me, holding me tight and pulling me closer. We both fell backwards so that we were lying prone, and still Andrew was kissing me. All my doubts and fears vanished as I strained to get closer to him, my arms wrapped around him. Being with him this way felt so good, so natural. So right in fact that, at that moment, there was nowhere else on earth I would rather be.

Over an hour later, after Andrew had disposed of his condom, we lay side by side, facing each other. My arm was around his waist. His hand was lightly stroking my cheek. And neither of us could stop smiling. I stroked a finger along his eyebrows and down his nose and across his lips.

‘Thank you,’ I whispered.

‘For what?’ said Andrew.

‘For being so patient with me. For making my first time so wonderful.’

Andrew regarded me for a moment, then kissed me, his eyes closed. Love and longing flowed through him and into me with that kiss. He pulled me closer, I wrapped my arms around him and gave as good as I got. And though the first time had been good, the second time was even better!

Another hour later and we both sat on the bed, getting dressed. I expected to feel more self-conscious, but all I felt was happy. Andrew and I couldn’t stop grinning at each other. It didn’t take words to know that what we had together was something very, very special. We carried on getting dressed in a companionable silence. I settled for jeans, sandals and my red short-sleeved T-shirt. Andrew wore jeans and an olive-green polo shirt. His wavy hair was getting a bit long and reached the collar of his shirt, but it suited him. His polo shirt was unbuttoned and I could see some of the dark hairs on his chest. God, but he looked good! But as great as he looked, he looked far better with his clothes off.

‘Jayna, behave!’ Andrew laughed.

I looked up from his chest to his face and caught his extremely amused expression. My cheeks instantly began to warm. Damn it, I really had to get this easily embarrassed disorder of mine under control!

‘Fancy a walk and maybe something to eat?’ Andrew asked, changing the subject before I could self-combust.

I nodded. ‘I’m starving.’

‘Come on, then.’ Andrew held out his hand.

‘Will our backpacks be safe in here?’

‘Probably not, but there’s nothing in them worth fleecing.’

We left the youth hostel and made our way into the town centre, about a ten-minute walk. I kept thinking, I’ve done it! Andrew Harrison is my friend and my boyfriend and my lover. I had a lover. My face started burning! Surprise, surprise!

The sun had set and the sky was darkening. It was still very warm and humid, so when a night breeze caressed my face it was most welcome. Hand in hand we strolled along, window-shopping.

I looked in the window of a crafts shop. The dull street light behind me cast dark shadows so I had to strain to see into the unlit shop window. Then I noticed my reflection. Eyes, obsidian-dark and bright, shone back at me. Andrew always said I was useless at hiding my feelings. Every thought, every fear, every emotion shone from my face like an image from a ten-metre-high cinema screen. Right now, it was true. My smile could’ve lit up the whole world.

I turned to Andrew and thought, I’m happy. No mistake about it. Really soppy, I know, but that’s how I felt.

‘It’s a shame our holiday didn’t start sooner.’ I sighed momentarily, letting a dark cloud mar my silver lining. ‘I might have avoided all the unpleasantness with my mum and your mum and your brother and my sister and . . .’

‘And the cat and the garden gnome!’ he teased.

‘And you.’

His smile faded. ‘And me,’ he agreed quietly. His expression cleared. ‘Still, we’re here now and that’s all that matters.’

‘What presents am I going to get Mum and Teegan and my friends? I’d better think about it now, before my money runs out,’ I said.

‘Hmm! When we get back to the youth hostel, I suppose I’d better send an e-postcard to my mum and dad,’ he mused, not at all enthusiastic about it.

I’d already sent two e-postcards back home and spoken to Mum once on the phone, but I decided a third real postcard wouldn’t hurt. The evening air was warm and the town was still. Very few people were about. The occasional car drove down the main street, but that was it. It made a change from London.

I was just about to turn back to the craft-shop window when my stomach started to rumble. Glancing at my watch, I said, ‘Andrew, I’m hungry.’ I stepped into the road. ‘Let’s try and find—’

‘Jayna, look out!’

The moment Andrew shouted at me, I heard the blare of a car horn. I turned my head and saw the car. Like a rabbit in the glare of oncoming headlights, I couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, couldn’t even breathe. The car was coming straight for me. Then, all at once, I couldn’t see it. The car’s headlights vanished. All I could see was a dark, velvet-blue nothing above me and the car horn blast was replaced by a sound like a rushing, roaring waterfall. I fell backwards and waited to hit the ground – but I never did.

I just kept falling, falling, falling . . .

10

‘JAYNA . . .?’

I opened my eyes. Andrew’s face was so close to mine I could feel his warm breath on my face. He was staring at me, his green eyes wide, an intense, frightened look on his face. Behind him, a couple of other people were watching me, their expressions serious. Only then did I realize I was lying down on the pavement. Embarrassed, I scrambled to my feet.

‘Andrew, what happened?’ I asked, dusting myself off.

‘You stepped into the street. I almost hit you.’ A man in his early twenties, with blondish-brown, wavy hair, spoke with a strong guttural accent. He was tall, over six feet, with the lightest eyes I’d ever seen; in the evening light, I couldn’t even tell if they were blue or grey. He wore dark trousers and a light-coloured shirt – cream or yellow, I think. A pullover lay over his shoulders, the arms knotted just below his neck. Behind him was a four-door hatchback car, but I didn’t recognize the make. When the other people around saw that I was all right, they started to wander off. I was grateful!

‘You bloody idiot! What d’you think you were doing? If I hadn’t pulled you out of the way, Jayna—’

Until Andrew said my name, I thought he was remonstrating with the man who’d almost knocked me over. I scowled at him.

‘Thank you so much for your concern,’ I said.

Andrew glared at me. He took a deep breath, then another, the light in his eyes changing with each passing moment. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ he asked at last.

I concentrated on my feet, my legs, my back, my arms, my head. ‘Positive. I must have blacked out for a second. I’ve never done that before.’ I felt like a complete wimp. How humiliating!

‘You stupid cow!’ Andrew pulled me towards him and hugged me so tight I could hardly breathe.

‘Stop being so mean,’ I told him, close to tears. And yet I still hugged him back, my arms around his waist. Slowly, I felt the muscles beneath my hands slacken and relax.

‘Sorry I shouted at you. I thought . . . and then when you turned into dead weight in my arms and I couldn’t hold you . . . I thought . . . I thought I’d lost you . . .’ Andrew released me reluctantly. His expression was still a study in worry. I’d really frightened him.

‘Next time I’ll pay more attention to where I’m going,’ I said ruefully.

‘And you should do the same, mate.’ Furious, Andrew turned on the driver. ‘You were driving much too fast.’

‘You are absolutely right. It was my fault entirely,’ the man agreed immediately. He said to me. ‘You are not hurt?’

I shook my head.

‘My name is Julius. Julius Keller. You are sure you do not need a doctor?’

‘Positive. It was my fault, Mr Keller. I shouldn’t have stepped out like that. I forgot cars drive on the wrong side of the road on the continent.’

‘Call me Julius. You must be English,’ he laughed. ‘We prefer to call it the other side of the road to the practice in Britain, rather than the wrong side.’

I nodded, acknowledging the correction. How could I have said the wrong side? I knew better than that!

Julius smiled. ‘You must both allow me to make it up to you.’

‘There’s no need for that,’ said Andrew, his eyes still shooting daggers through Julius. ‘Bloody Italian drivers!’ he muttered under his breath.

He’s not Italian. Not with that accent, I thought.

Julius raised a hand. ‘I insist. I was travelling much too fast for this road, so you must at least allow me to provide you both with dinner. Have you eaten?’

‘Not yet. We’ve only just checked in at the youth hostel. But really, there’s no need—’ I began.

Julius turned to me and smiled. But his eyes . . . they seemed to burn right into me. My breath caught in my throat. It was getting harder to breathe. The colour of Julius’s irises began to change.

‘Please. I must insist. I feel terrible about what has happened,’ he said softly, his words flowing through me like a hot drink on a cold day. ‘You must allow me to do this small thing.’

‘Jayna?’ Andrew queried.

Julius looked back at Andrew. I blinked rapidly, whilst dragging air into my starved lungs. What the hell . . .? I steadied my breathing, then shrugged. Andrew and I exchanged a look.

‘Fine with me,’ I said. Strangely, I felt suddenly impetuous. Different. I blushed. Was this a result of what we had done earlier? It was as though a new Jayna was being released. Or maybe something in Julius’s eyes when he looked at me made me instinctively trust him.

‘OK, Julius. Thanks,’ said Andrew. ‘This is Jayna and I’m Andrew. Actually, we were wondering where would be a cheap and cheerful place to eat around here . . .?’

Julius grinned. ‘I have something even better in mind,’ he said. ‘I am having a party for some friends tonight at my house. There will be good music and plenty of food. You will come as my guests. Sì?’

‘Oh, but we couldn’t do that,’ I protested. ‘We wouldn’t want to intrude.’

‘It will be no intrusion, I assure you. I would like both of you to come – very much. A few friends from the youth hostel are already at my house. You know them? Christine and Scott are from Australia, Carlos and Juan are brothers from Spain . . .’

‘’Fraid not. We only arrived in Fipoli today so we don’t really know anyone yet,’ I said.

Plus we hadn’t exactly spent the afternoon socializing! Anyway, it was highly unlikely that we would have known them, even if we had been at the hostel longer. There was no way we could get acquainted with everyone there. People came and went so frequently.

‘This will be your chance, then,’ smiled Julius. ‘My parties are very friendly. You will be most welcome.’

‘I don’t know.’ Andrew frowned. ‘I’m not being funny or anything, but we don’t really know you.’

Andrew was right. It would be really stupid to hop into the car of someone we’d only just met. But Julius seemed so friendly.

‘This is true.’ Julius nodded, his expression serious. ‘But at the youth hostel they know me – I am famous for my parties! If you were to ask about me I am sure they would reassure you. And you will enjoy yourself.’

‘Jayna?’ Andrew asked doubtfully.

I was Jayna the cautious, Jayna the analyser, Jayna who never made a move without working it out from every angle. But I did something I still can’t explain. I must’ve left my common sense back in Britain because I said, ‘Yeah. Why not?’

It all sounded fine by me. I was convinced Julius was harmless. Besides, I hadn’t been to a good rave in ages. Mind you, Julius’s idea of good music and mine were probably worlds apart!

‘Are you sure?’ said Andrew.

I nodded. I was with Andrew; what could go wrong? The two of us together were invincible. And the new Jayna wanted to dance!

‘All right, then,’ Andrew agreed at last.

Julius glanced down at his watch. ‘My house is about ten minutes’ drive from here. We will go there together. I will drive.’

‘If you’re having a party, why aren’t you at it?’ I frowned, some residual sense kicking in.

‘I had to take a friend home who did not feel very well and who was not able to drive himself home.’ Julius smiled. ‘I did not want any of my guests to be inconvenienced, so I took Daniel myself. To tell you the truth, I do not think that many of my friends will have even noticed my absence.’

The minicab service in Fipoli was obviously as bad as it was back home in Catford!

‘You haven’t been drinking, have you?’ I asked suspiciously. No way was I going to let myself be driven anywhere by someone who’d been drinking.

‘No. I do not drink and drive, and I will have to drive some new friends back to the hostel later,’ he said. ‘I will be more than happy to drive you back there as well.’

He walked over to his car and opened the right-hand door. I was puzzled until I remembered that the steering wheels in Continental cars were on the left-hand side. I got in and he shut the door behind me. Andrew got in the back and Julius walked around the car to get behind the wheel.

‘Julius, what about your parents? Won’t they mind you inviting strangers to your house?’ Andrew asked.

‘I live with my brother and he is away at present. My mother and father are both dead.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said sincerely.

‘They died a long time ago.’

The way he spoke of his parents he might have been talking about last week’s weather. My dad died when I was eleven and I still couldn’t string five consecutive sentences together about him without choking up. But if Julius’s parents had died when he was a baby, or very young, then maybe that would explain his attitude. Perhaps he couldn’t remember a thing about them – like Teegan didn’t really have many memories of our dad. My trouble was, I could remember lots about him. I kept waiting for the memories to fade but they never did. Did I want them to? At least then, thinking about him would hurt a little less, but maybe that was the price I had to pay.

On the way to Julius’s house, we talked about our holiday so far. I looked at the houses we passed as Andrew and Julius chatted as I wanted to memorize the route, just in case we didn’t get a lift back to the hostel. It was easy to remember, even for me, who had absolutely no sense of direction: Julius drove straight along the main street and turned right at the bakery, then he headed up a winding street for about another five minutes. The houses in the street were all terraced, with brightly painted shutters and whitewashed walls. He pulled up outside the last house on the left-hand side of the street. All the lights were on and I could hear the people at the party laughing and music blasting out. I turned and grinned at Andrew.

‘The front door is open. Everyone is in the large room to the right, at the top of the stairs. The food is up there also,’ said Julius.

‘Aren’t you coming in?’ I asked, surprised.

‘As soon as I have parked my car off the road.’

Andrew and I got out of the car. Some music I didn’t recognize boomed out into the night air. I wondered how Fipoli neighbours compared to London neighbours!

As we walked towards the front door, Andrew murmured, ‘Jayna, are you sure you want to do this?’

‘We’re here now.’ I frowned at him. ‘You don’t sound very keen. What’s the matter?’

‘I had other plans for tonight.’ He stopped walking and winked at me.

A slow heat crept into my cheeks. ‘Oh!’ I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Andrew’s smile broadened. My face was on fire. ‘You!’ I laughed. ‘Well, we don’t have to stay too long. An hour at the most?’

‘Make it half an hour and it’s a deal. I don’t want to waste my energy dancing.’

‘Andrew, behave!’ Anyone would think we hadn’t already been at it like bunnies.

‘I can’t help it. You’re so sexy,’ he said softly.

I smiled with mischief, whispering in his ear, ‘Good, because I want you too. Very much.’ I ran my tongue around the shell of his ear before breathing on it, knowing my warm breath would feel very hot before cooling rapidly.

He inhaled sharply. ‘Damn it, that’s not helping!’ His gaze was so intense. ‘I get turned on just looking at you. I love you, Jayna. Very much.’

‘I love you too, Andrew.’ My arm sneaked further round his waist and his arm round my shoulders pulled me even closer.

‘Can’t we go back to the hostel now?’ he said plaintively.

I laughed. ‘No, I’m hungry. I need food to give me the energy to keep up with you.’

We entered the house. There were at least four couples kissing on the stairs who didn’t even look up when we went inside. From the laughter and chatter, at least fifty people must have been crammed in dancing above us.

‘Half an hour, that’s all,’ I said, trying to ease the sullen look on Andrew’s face.

‘Twenty minutes,’ he amended firmly.

We went upstairs. At the top of the stairs there were two doors, one to the left and one to the right. The left-hand door was shut, the right one wide open – and it looked like I’d underestimated the number of people. To my surprise a Bob Marley track started. Maybe the party wouldn’t be so bad after all! We walked into the room where it was all happening.

A wave of heat and the smell of lager and wine spilled out to meet us. It was so forceful I almost took a step back. It seemed like every light in the entire house had been brought into this one room. Bizarre! I preferred parties with every light out!

‘Ciao! Come state?’ A pretty girl with dark-brown hair down to her shoulders and mid-brown eyes spoke to us. She was doing a very peculiar dance, moving with the sinuous slink of a seductive snake.

It took a few moments for my brain to switch from English to the few words of Italian at my disposal. ‘Bene, grazie,’ I said, wondering if I’d got even that right! Then I decided to push it. ‘Mi chiamo Jayna,’ I said.

‘Luisa,’ she replied. She looked at Andrew; an appraising look that liked what it saw. Yeah, but he’s taken, I thought with a trace of belligerence.

‘This is Andrew,’ I said, my Italian defeated.

‘Ah! American,’ she said.

‘No, English,’ replied Andrew. He took my hand and we pushed on into the crowd. ‘Want a drink?’ He leaned closer towards my ear to make himself heard.

‘Yes, please. Just water,’ I mouthed. It would be pointless to shout.

All of a sudden, there was an arm around my shoulder, and it wasn’t Andrew’s. I turned my head. Julius.

‘I will get you both a drink, yes?’ He smiled. ‘Wait here. I will bring you the speciality of the house.’ And off he went.

Andrew turned me round to face him. ‘My dance, I believe,’ he said.

We cuddled up close and swayed to the music. Andrew pulled me even closer to him as we started getting into it. I could tell that he was getting excited.

‘Ten minutes,’ he murmured in my ear.

I laughed, just about to answer when Julius came back.

‘Here we are.’ He thrust two long glasses filled with red liquid towards us. I took a glass. The noise in the room lessened somewhat. A few curious eyes were trained on us.

‘What is it?’ I asked, swirling the liquid around.

‘Taste it,’ Julius said mysteriously.

I put it to my lips and sipped tentatively. It was ice-cold and tasted sharp and extremely sweet all at the same time. I wasn’t too keen. And anyway, it had been drummed into me for years: Never accept a drink from a stranger. But Julius was so welcoming, so eager for us to enjoy his hospitality. His pale eyes caught mine for a moment and I felt my misgivings melt away.

‘It’s not bad,’ said Andrew, surprised. ‘What is it?’

‘My secret,’ said Julius. And he turned and faded into the crowd.

‘D’you want mine?’ I whispered. Now Julius had gone, I felt no desire to drink any more.

‘Don’t you like it?’

‘Let me put it this way – if we were next to a house plant, my glass would be empty by now.’

Andrew laughed. He carried on sipping his drink, and no sooner was his glass empty than I swapped my half-filled glass for his. I’d drunk a little of the stuff because the room was incredibly hot, but a little was more than enough as far as I was concerned. Andrew had no sooner drained my drink than Julius appeared with two more filled glasses of the same red concoction.

‘I thought you would both like it.’ He smiled. Actually it was more of a smirk.

‘Yeah, it’s all right,’ Andrew said.

‘It is an acquired taste,’ Julius told me.

He took our empty glasses after giving us the filled ones. It wasn’t a taste I particularly wanted to acquire. I didn’t like alcohol much – I rarely drank more than the occasional cider or glass of wine, which Mum still thought was far too much for my age. She’d have gone mental if I’d ever come home tipsy, never mind drunk! Ten minutes later, after we’d eaten a few chicken and prawn canapés, I reminded Andrew about leaving.

‘Let’s just stay for another couple of minutes,’ he said, pulling me close and kissing me hard. It was OK. A bit caveman, but OK. Usually Andrew’s kisses were so gentle that the contrast was noticeable. A few people around us whistled and cheered. I drew away first, downing more of Julius’s drink to hide my discomfiture. Andrew grinned at me, knowing exactly how I was feeling. He always could read me like a book.

For the next hour, we danced and ate and laughed with some of the others present. It was good fun, better than either of us had expected. I tried to remind Andrew that he’d wanted to depart early a couple of times, but he now seemed in no hurry to leave, so I took the hint and shut up about it. I suspected by the time we made it back home, Andrew would be too drunk to do anything else but snore. Ah well! We had tomorrow. No rush. So we laughed and danced and drank some more. After about the third glass, Julius’s drink didn’t taste quite so bad. But after about an hour and a half, the strangest feeling came over me. I didn’t realize what was going on until I was dancing with Andrew and he had to practically hold me up.

‘I think Julius’s drink has hit my legs . . .’ I blinked, surprised.

‘I feel a bit queasy myself. Maybe we both need some fresh air. We should be getting back to the hostel anyway,’ said Andrew.

Finally! The crowd had started to thin out now. We walked out of the room, but as soon as I stepped down onto the first stair my legs went completely.

‘I think you had better take Jayna to the room of my brother.’ Julius appeared from nowhere to point to the room opposite the one which had held the party.

‘Just for five minutes,’ I said groggily. ‘I just need to sit down for five minutes.’

Julius and Andrew helped me to my feet and into the other bedroom. I couldn’t understand it. My brain was functioning – it’s just that my legs weren’t. A couple of drinks and I was plastered? How totally feeble! I’d always thought that people who drank until they were pie-eyed were total dorks but I’d previously drunk so little and Julius’s drink must have snuck up on me. What was in it? A horrible thought! Was there some drug in it? I shook my head. Andrew had had much more of it than me, and he wasn’t falling over, so there couldn’t have been anything dodgy about it.

No, I was just drunk, I thought blearily. Was this how it usually was? Being too blitzed to walk but not too blitzed to know you were blitzed! Another first. This holiday was turning into a whole series of firsts.

I sat down on the bed, but once my bum got comfortable the rest of my body wanted to follow suit. I lay down.

And once I closed my eyes, I was out.

11

WHEN I AWOKE, it took me a good minute to remember where I was. I moved my pounding head slowly. Andrew wasn’t anywhere around and the house was deathly quiet. The party must have finished. It took me another minute to get my legs to work. What was in those drinks Julius had brought us? I felt totally grungy, like cold leftovers. Oh God, surely Julius had spiked our drinks. Why would anyone do that? And then I thought of all the warnings I’d been given and went icy cold for a moment. Had someone . . .? I cautiously slipped my hand down below to feel my jeans and an intense wave of relief washed over me. At least that hadn’t happened.

Furious with myself, I tried to call for Andrew, but my voice had gone. There was nothing there, not even a croak. My lips moved but no sound came out. Staggering to my feet, I fell away from the bed to the door. I just wished my head would stop pounding, then I could throw up without worrying about what the noise and the action would do to my head. Never again! I reeled out onto the landing and headed for the room that had held the party. I pushed open the door.

There was Julius, squatting over Andrew’s prone body. Andrew was lying half on his back, half on his side facing me, his eyes closed. He looked like he was sleeping. Julius’s face had a wax-like pallor and his eyes shone like rubies.

But the thing that made my heart lurch, then almost stop completely, was that Julius was holding Andrew’s wrist to his mouth. Blood ran over his lips, painting them like garish lipstick.

He looked up and we both froze like images in a photograph. I stared, disbelieving, as blood trickled down from his lips and over his chin. Could I be hallucinating? Slowly he wiped his mouth with his free hand and the blood smeared across his face. My mind started screaming, over and over: No . . . no . . . I opened my mouth. Not a sound came out.

Say something. SAY SOMETHING.

My voice finally came back, croaky and hoarse, and the words erupted. ‘No! Get away from him.’

The sound of Andrew’s blood drip-dripping onto the wooden floor galvanized me into moving. I flung myself at Julius, battering at him with my fists. He stood up, warding off my blows as if swatting away harmless flies.

‘What are you doing? Don’t. Don’t!’ I screamed.

My mouth filled with cool saliva and my head was whirling. The whole room was spinning wildly as Julius pushed me away. I fell backwards, my head snapped back against the wall and I crumpled like wet newspaper. My upper body lay against the wall, so limp and sluggish that I felt I must surely fall straight through it.

Julius squatted down and again raised Andrew’s wrist to his lips. He was crazy. Totally mad. But how to stop a madman?

‘Please . . .’ I whispered. Even to my ears my voice sounded ineffectual, weak as dishwater. ‘Please don’t hurt him. Andrew and me, we love each other. We love each other very much. I’m begging you . . . Please don’t . . .’

For countless moments, Julius and I watched each other.

‘It’s too late.’ Julius’s voice was the merest sigh.

Too late . . .? My whole body trembled violently. I still couldn’t get up. Do something . . . anything . . . stop him . . . ‘Please . . . I don’t have anyone else,’ I breathed desperately. ‘I love him. Please . . .’ I swallowed hard and tried to continue. ‘Let us go. We won’t tell . . .’ I tried to say more but nothing else would come out. ‘Please . . .’ I mouthed.

‘And would you give your life for his?’ rasped Julius.

I nodded slowly but with no hesitation. And I meant it. If Andrew died because of me, because I’d trusted a stranger . . . How could I even begin to live with that?

An eternity passed as Julius and I fought silently over Andrew. A fight with no words and no actions. All I could do was silently beg Julius with my eyes, my whole demeanour. Beg him to spare Andrew’s life. A lifetime passed. Then it seemed as if Julius’s whole body sagged. With defeat? He released Andrew’s arm and it fell, hitting heavily against the floor. Slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving mine, Julius bit into his own left wrist.

My stomach turned somersaults. I swallowed hard and kept on swallowing. If only I could clear my head. If only I could move, do something. But the link between my body and my mind had been severed as I watched the blood run from Julius’s self-inflicted wound. He raised his arm and placed his wrist directly above Andrew’s slightly open mouth, his blood dripping past Andrew’s lips. Against my will, my eyelids closed and I couldn’t open them. They weighed a ton each.

Don’t hurt him . . . don’t hurt him . . . I begged silently.

If I could just open my damned eyes. What was Julius doing now? He was sick. A psycho. Crazy. Drinking Andrew’s blood like it was water. Biting his own wrist. He was demented.

Don’t hurt him . . .

Don’t pass out, Jayna, I told myself urgently. But even as the thought entered my head I knew it was too late. I felt my head fall to one side and the rest of my body went with it. I’ve failed you, Andrew, I thought with utter misery. I’ve failed you.

And I’m next.

12

‘JAYNA? JAYNA, WAKE up.’

I struggled to open my eyes. There, kneeling right before me, was—

‘Andrew? Andrew!’

‘Shh!’

He looked so strange. Pale, almost paper-white and with wide, staring eyes and flushed, red lips. I glanced around. We were still in the party room of Julius’s house. I was seated on the floor, my back propped up against the wall. And my head was killing me.

‘Are you all right? Where is Julius? He’s mad. Did he hurt you? I thought he was going to kill you for sure, then me.’ I didn’t have a clue what I was whispering. It all came out as garbled nonsense to my ears.

‘Come on, Jayna. We’ve got to get out of here before he comes back. He might change his mind.’

I hardly heard Andrew. ‘Change his mind? I don’t understand. Where is he?’

‘Don’t know. Don’t care. Let’s get out of here!’

With Andrew’s help, I clambered to my feet. I took a long, hard look at him. ‘Andrew, you look like shit.’

‘I know.’

Then I remembered. Terrifying thoughts whipped through my mind. I looked down at my wrists. No blood. No marks. I pulled Andrew’s wrists towards me and scrutinized them. Once again, my heart stopped.

‘I wasn’t dreaming, then,’ I whispered.

The look in Andrew’s eyes as well as the yellow-blue bruises around the multiple puncture marks on his wrist provided my answer.

‘He’s warped. We should go to the police,’ I raged. The words, furiously spoken, set my head ringing again. The pneumatic drill was gone but Big Ben had arrived in its stead.

‘We can’t.’ Andrew helped me to the door.

My legs still weren’t my own. ‘Why not?’

‘Look, Jayna, neither of us is in a fit state to make sense of any of this at the moment, let alone explain it to someone else. Let’s just go back to the hostel.’

‘Shouldn’t you at least go to a hospital?’ I asked.

Andrew shook his head. ‘I only lost a little blood. He didn’t do anything else to me.’

‘But he might try it on someone else. He might kill someone. He might have killed someone already . . .’

‘He won’t do anything else tonight. We’ll sort it out tomorrow.’

We were finally down the stairs and heading out of the front door. ‘How can you be so sure?’ My head was full of all the church bells in London, pealing out like there was a royal wedding going on. I leaned heavily on Andrew, my head swimming. ‘I feel like shit,’ I groaned, holding my head.

‘It was the drinks Julius gave us. They were spiked.’

‘Spiked?’ So I had been right. Julius had wanted to kill both of us, I realized. ‘Andrew, we have to go to the police.’

‘No, Jayna. Trust me.’

I tilted my head to look at him. ‘How come you’re so . . . calm about all this? Julius is a lunatic. He might have killed us.’

‘But you stopped him.’

‘I did? But—’ The rushing, roaring waterfall was back, the sound crashing through my head. With a start, I realized it was the sound of my own blood thundering in my ears.

I almost fell over when Andrew started waving his arms about, my support gone. I was slipping away again. I vaguely remembered being unceremoniously bundled into what I presumed was a taxi. I have no idea how long we drove for, but at some stage I was bundled out again. By this time, if it hadn’t been for Andrew’s arm round my waist, I would have hit the pavement for sure.

‘What was in those drinks?’ I muttered.

‘You don’t want to know.’

‘Do you know?’

‘Yeah. Julius told me. I wish . . . I wish he hadn’t,’ breathed Andrew.

‘He told you?’ My voice was getting fainter and fainter. ‘Did he . . . did he spike anyone else’s drink at the party?’ We made our way into the hostel.

‘No, just ours.’

‘Andrew, I feel sick.’

‘Hang on. All you need is some sleep.’

‘We should go to the police. Right now. Right—’

‘We can’t, Jayna.’

‘Why . . . why not?’

‘I’ll explain tomorrow. You’re in no fit state to understand tonight.’

‘But you’re all right?’ I asked anxiously.

‘Am I all right? That’s an interesting question.’ Andrew laughed, a harsh, grating laugh that was unfamiliar – totally unlike his normal laugh.

Even in my semi-unconscious state, I could detect the bitterness in his voice. Bitterness, and something else. Something I couldn’t quite place. Fear? From far away, I heard Andrew explain to Luka the receptionist that I didn’t feel well. The understatement of the decade.

‘Just a little further, Jayna.’ His voice was retreating all the time.

We were in our room. I fell away from him onto the bed. ‘We should go to the police. I’ll go. I’ll . . . see them. Right . . . this . . .’ I tried to stand up but failed miserably. I looked up at Andrew. He was watching me, with a look on his face that I’d never seen before. ‘Andrew, what’s going on? I feel so . . . peculiar.’

‘You’ll be all right. I love you, Jayna.’

‘I . . . I know,’ I whispered. My head rocked back. My eyes closed. And once again I checked out.

When I awoke, I was alone. The moment I opened my eyes I knew that Andrew was no longer in the room with me. Groaning against the headache that threatened to split my skull wide open, I looked towards the window. The thin, faded cotton curtains were still drawn, but daylight filtered past them and through them, speckling the room with yellow-white light.

I wondered where Andrew was. Was he all right? Our first stop this morning would be the nearest police station, that was for sure. The other half of the bed looked like it hadn’t even been slept in. Past Andrew’s side of the bed there was only one backpack – mine. A sheet of A4 paper sat self-consciously on his pillow. I sat up, wincing again as my head threatened to drop off – I half wished it would, to put me out of my misery. Lurching across the pillows, I grabbed the sheet of paper and sat down gingerly. No sudden movements and maybe my head would forgive me for guzzling alcohol provided by a stranger. Never, ever again. It had been beyond stupid to get into the car of a stranger abroad. I had no idea why I’d even accepted Julius’s offer of a lift to his party. I knew better than that – at least, I had thought I did. And Andrew said the drinks Julius gave us were spiked . . . or had I dreamed that bit?

Jayna,

For reasons I’ll explain when I see you, I’ve had to go home, back to London. I promise I’m fine, so don’t worry, but follow me straight home. Don’t talk to anyone and on no account go to the police. It’s very important that you don’t let me down.

I love you.

Andrew

I read the letter for a second and a third time. With each passing moment, I knew for certain that my head was going to explode, but not from a hangover.

Andrew had gone home? He’d actually left me here and buggered off home without me? I read the letter a fourth time and still couldn’t believe it. How could he? Why did he? There had to be a rational explanation, but for the life of me I couldn’t come up with one. I crumpled up the letter and threw it against the wall.

‘You bastard, Andrew,’ I muttered, holding my head.

And never in my life had I felt so alone.

13

I WAS TEMPTED to go to the police anyway, in spite of Andrew’s wishes. Reluctantly I retrieved his letter, straightened it out and read it again. Why was he so insistent that I shouldn’t go to the police? It didn’t make any sense. What was he playing at? Why had he left me alone here? When had he left? Questions and more questions buzzed around my mind like angry wasps.

I couldn’t believe it. It had to be a joke. Andrew wouldn’t really leave me alone and go home without me . . .? Looking around the small room, I knew I was only fooling myself. The room was still, silent. From another room I heard a cough. It made me feel even more isolated.

He really had gone. Andrew had gone and left me here. But why? I bit down on my bottom lip. No reason in the world would be good enough to explain why he’d done it. It was almost as though he’d run away. But from what? From me?

I couldn’t understand it. Andrew was safe. We’d been stupid and careless to let Julius get to us like that, but we’d escaped. So what was this all about?

With a cry of exasperation, I sprang off the bed. I’d had enough. All I wanted to do now was go home. Julius was someone else’s problem. I wanted to get as far away from him and Fipoli and the whole damn country as I could. Julius was obviously several trains short of a full service. Did he often drug people, drink some of their blood, then let them go? After all, he’d let us go. Andrew had said something about us having to leave Julius’s house before Julius changed his mind – so he must have let us go.

Yeah, I knew I should tell the police – what if it happened to someone else? But in Italy? On my own? When I could barely manage more than a few words of the language? When all I’d be doing would be proving to my mum how we had been too young to go away together without getting into trouble? Maybe we could report Julius when we were both back in London, when I’d had a chance to talk to Andrew. Right now, I had more important things on my mind – like getting home.

I was alive. And so was Andrew.

But he wouldn’t be once I caught up with him!

14

FOUR DAYS LATER I was back in England. Four whole days it took me. And with each passing moment, the rage inside me intensified until I was choking on it. The week’s events had assumed an unreal, dreamlike quality. As I got further and further away from Fipoli, both in distance and in time, I wasn’t sure which of my memories were real and which ones were the result of too many spiked drinks or too much imagination. The part where I’d pleaded for Andrew’s life, for example. Was that real?

One thing was certain: Andrew had dumped me. After four days of thinking about practically nothing else, I was sure that was what this was all about. He’d dumped me after my paralytic newt display and was too much of a coward to tell me so to my face.

I told myself I was being stupid. Why would someone who professed to love me be put off by my collapsing. I hadn’t done it on purpose. And most, if not all, of that was because Julius had tampered with my drinks. But what other explanation for Andrew’s behaviour was there? After all, it wasn’t as if something like it hadn’t happened to me before. Dad had said he loved us too – Mum, me, Teegan – but it hadn’t stopped him from leaving either.

There were no two ways about it. Andrew had gone back home, leaving me in Fipoli to fend for myself. That’s what I found so hard to forgive. I longed to see him, to tell him just what I thought of him. If it was true that he’d dumped me, I wouldn’t show him how much it hurt. I was good at that. I wouldn’t hear him laughing because I’d laugh first and loudest.

By the time the ferry had reached England, I’d convinced myself that I felt nothing but antipathy for Andrew. I’d got through the lonely train rides across Europe, the waiting in empty stations, the restless overnight stays in hostels not previously on our itinerary, the meals alone, the pitying looks – I’d got through them all, just by thinking about what I’d do when I caught up with my ex-boyfriend.

The train crawled from the coast to central London – frustrating, to say the least. There seemed to be points and signal failures about every half-mile, and by the time I eventually reached home it was dark.

‘Mum!’ I shouted as soon as I stepped past my front door.

Silence. Then I remembered that Mum and Teegan were in the Lake District and wouldn’t be back for another week. How I wished they were at home, or that I’d gone with them. This permanent concrete block sitting in my chest really wasn’t worth it. Andrew wasn’t worth it. Bastard!

I longed for someone to talk to. I thought of Diane, then remembered that she was visiting her dad in Cornwall this week. Who else? I’d even have settled for Teegan. When that thought entered my head, I knew I was in a bad way. Fighting against the self-pity I felt, I dropped my backpack in the hall before straightening up slowly. I inhaled, taking in England and London and, most importantly, home.

For the first time since I went on holiday, I realized just how much I’d missed it. Faint traces of Mum’s herb dumplings, her perfume and air-freshener hung in the air. I was so weary I just wanted to go to bed and curl up and not move until Mum and Teegan came back, but I had things to do. A quick shower, a change of clothes, and then it was time to leave the house.

Mentally rolling up my sleeves, I stepped out into the night again. Alternating between running and walking, I headed for Andrew’s house. I didn’t phone him first to warn him that I was about to descend. Some things were better said face-to-face.

At last I reached my destination. And by the time I did, I couldn’t stop my hands from clenching and unclenching. I was tempted to keep my finger on the doorbell until the front door opened, but then Mrs Harrison might open the door instead of Andrew. I didn’t want to waste even a smidgen of my anger on her. I rang the bell. Almost immediately the front door opened and I tried not to grimace. It was Mr Harrison. When he saw me, his eyes opened wide.

‘Hello, Jayna,’ he said, surprised.

‘Hi, Mr Harrison. Is Andrew at home? May I speak to him please?’

‘I don’t understand.’ Mr Harrison frowned at me. ‘Isn’t he with you? We weren’t expecting you back until next week.’

‘Frederick, who is it?’ Mrs Harrison emerged from her pristine designer kitchen. ‘Oh, it’s you.’

‘Susan, Jayna is asking for Andrew.’

‘Andrew?’ she said sharply. ‘He’s with you.’

In the silence that followed I could actually hear my heartbeat speed up. ‘I . . . I . . .’ Seeing the look of dawning anxiety on Mrs Harrison’s face, I couldn’t think of anything to say.

‘Where’s my son?’ Mrs Harrison strode to the front door, sweeping her husband aside.

‘Andrew left me behind in Fipoli,’ I explained quickly. ‘He left me a note saying he’d meet me at home—’

‘Andrew would never do that,’ she interrupted.

‘I’m not lying. That’s exactly what he did,’ I replied, just as angry as she was. ‘I have the note he left me if you don’t believe me.’

‘Show me,’ demanded Mrs Harrison.

‘Now then, Susan, let’s all just calm down, shall we?’ Mr Harrison soothed.

I searched through the pockets of my jeans for Andrew’s letter, before I remembered where it was.

‘I’ve left it in my backpack at home,’ I mumbled, annoyed, then added in a louder voice, ‘But he did leave me. He said he’d explain why when I got back home.’

‘He’s not here, Jayna.’ Mr Harrison frowned again. ‘We haven’t seen him since the two of you went on holiday together.’ His voice held the faintest recriminatory hint which I chose to ignore.

‘Did you two have a quarrel? Is that why Andrew isn’t home yet?’ Mrs Harrison’s glaring dislike battered at me like a gale-force wind.

‘No, we didn’t quarrel,’ I said indignantly.

‘Susan, calm down.’ Mr Harrison placed a restraining hand on his wife’s arm. ‘I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for why Andrew came home without Jayna.’

‘We only have her word for that,’ said Andrew’s mum.

‘Are you calling me a liar?’

‘No, Jayna, my wife isn’t accusing you of any such thing. Are you, dear?’ Mr Harrison said firmly. ‘We’re just worried, that’s all. You say that Andrew left Fipoli before you?’

‘That’s what he said in his letter,’ I replied slowly, fighting to control my temper. I hated being called a liar. ‘He said he’d see me at home so I assumed he was coming straight here.’

‘Where is he now then?’ Mrs Harrison asked.

If I knew that, I wouldn’t be wasting my time with you, I thought. From the way her eyes narrowed she’d deciphered my thoughts. I lowered my gaze immediately. Damn my lack of a poker face.

‘I’ll go to the Burger Bar. Maybe he’s there, or someone there has seen him.’

‘If you find him tell him to come straight home, will you?’ Mr Harrison said.

I nodded and turned away from them.

‘Jayna Lucas, if anything has happened to my son I’ll never forgive you,’ Mrs Harrison said from behind me.

‘Susan!’ Andrew’s father admonished.

I turned round again to look at them.

‘Frederick, something has happened to Andrew. I can feel it,’ Mrs Harrison protested.

‘Andrew’s fine, Mrs Harrison, I just know he is,’ I said.

I’m the one who got left behind. I’m the one who had to fight my way across Europe back to London. I’m the seventeen-year-old girl who got left on her own. How could your son do that to someone he claims to love?

‘Mum, what’s she doing here?’ I froze at the sound of Morgan’s voice.

‘Andrew’s not home yet – and she is,’ Mrs Harrison replied. ‘If Andrew is not home by midnight, I’m going to call the police.’

‘Now, Susan, you know how much Andrew hates fuss and bother,’ Mr Harrison chided.

‘I don’t care. My son is missing. She should know where he is, and she doesn’t.’

‘Where’s my brother?’ Morgan grabbed my arm, yanking me round to face him.

‘I don’t know – if I did, I wouldn’t be round here asking.’ I pulled my arm out of his grasp.

‘What the hell’s going on?’ Morgan frowned.

‘Mr Harrison,’ I addressed myself to the most reasonable of the Harrison clan, ‘I’ll go to the Burger Bar and see if he’s there.’

Andrew, thank you so much for leaving me to face your family all by myself. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.

With the thoughts racing to and fro in my mind, I was surprised the air around my head hadn’t turned a deep shade of blue.

Giving Morgan a wide berth, I walked through the open gate and began to head up the road.

‘I’ll be right back, Dad,’ I heard Morgan say from behind me.

I walked faster. I heard Morgan’s heavy feet pounding behind me. Perspiration trickled down my back like rain down a window pane.

He ran in front of me, barring my way. ‘I wanted to talk to you,’ he said stonily.

‘Shift, Morgan. I’m not in the mood for you. Not tonight.’ I tried to walk round him, but he sidestepped in front of me, blocking my way again.

‘Oh, no you don’t.’ His smile sent a chill down my spine. ‘I want to talk to you, and this time Andrew isn’t here to stop me.’

15

I DIDN’T NEED this. I really didn’t need this.

‘You’re in my way, Morgan.’ My heart was hammering so loudly I wondered if he could hear it.

Morgan regarded me, his expression hard as granite, his bottle-green eyes giving me frostbite. ‘Where’s my brother?’ he said at last.

‘I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to find out.’ I spoke slowly with deliberate patience.

‘If anything happens to him . . .’

Anger flared through my body. ‘Look, your brother left me in Fipoli and came home without me, not the other way around. Doesn’t anyone in your family give a monkey’s about anyone but themselves?’

‘You’re here, my brother isn’t.’

I breathed deeply. ‘I’m going to the Burger Bar and then I’m going home. And if I do see your brother, then I’ll have a few things to say to him myself. I’ve had more than enough of your family to last me a lifetime.’

‘I’m coming with you,’ Morgan said.

‘You are not.’

‘I’m coming with you whether you like it or not. Don’t run away with the idea that I want your company.’

Stretching out my fingers, I stepped past him and carried on walking. This time he didn’t stop me but fell into step beside me. I walked so quickly that by the time we reached the Burger Bar I was out of breath. Pete and Vijay were the only two from our usual gang in there.

‘Jayna! I thought you’d still be on holiday,’ Pete said. He stepped forward and gave me a brief hug which I returned.

‘I came back today.’ I forced myself to smile at him. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen Andrew?’

‘Not since before you went on holiday together,’ Pete said, looking from me to Morgan and back again. ‘Why d’you ask?’

‘I just thought he might be in here.’ I shrugged.

Pete looked at Vijay before shaking his head. ‘Where are you off to now?’ he asked, at the same time regarding Morgan with animosity.

‘Home.’

‘Want me to come with you?’

Conscious of Morgan tensing beside me, I said, ‘Would you? That’s very kind of you.’ I’d been dreading leaving the restaurant with only Morgan for company.

‘No problem.’ Pete glanced at his watch, before standing up. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Vijay.’

I risked a glance at Morgan. He was scowling at me. ‘You’d better pray that Andrew turns up soon,’ he said quietly. He turned round and marched out of the Burger Bar.

‘He’s a real charmer, isn’t he?’ Pete said from beside me.

‘Not quite the word I had in mind,’ I said drily. We left the Burger Bar in silence.

‘So what’s going on?’ Pete said at last. ‘Anything you want to tell me about?’

I smiled at him, grateful as never before for Pete’s friendship. And to think that Pete and I almost became an item. What would my life be like if it’d contained Pete rather than Andrew?

Over a year ago Andrew and I had been standing separately outside the local cinema and the main feature had already started. It was obvious we’d both been stood up. It was bucketing down and a chill wind whistled around me, but I was boiling. I glared at Andrew as if it was his fault, daring him to say a word. He might be used to his dates not turning up, but I certainly wasn’t. My first so-called date with Peter Shorman was definitely going to be my last. With a face like a handful of mince, I was just about to march home when Andrew sidled up to me.

He grinned. ‘You been stood up too?’

I glared at him, torn between lying to save my face and flouncing off without another word.

‘Brilliant deduction, Sherlock.’ I turned away.

‘Look, Jayna, I . . . I’ve got two tickets to . . . er . . . see this film and it’d really hurt if one of them went to waste. So why don’t we . . . we could go in and see . . . see it together,’ Andrew stammered in his haste to get the words out. He must have seen the frown deepening on my face because he continued hastily, ‘We wouldn’t be on a date or anything. We’d be . . . just two friends watching the same film.’

I was so livid with Pete I did something I never thought I’d do – spend the evening with Andrew Harrison. ‘I suppose I’ve nothing better to do this evening.’ I shrugged ungraciously. ‘All right, then.’

And that was that. We went in to see the film together, and it turned out to be very good indeed. Andrew and I wandered into a pizza place afterwards – only because we were both hungry – and discussed the film, moving on to other films we’d seen, books we’d read and who we both knew at school. He’d had me in fits of laughter with his screwy sense of humour.

I discovered something unexpected that night. Andrew was all right! Over pizzas he asked me out to see another film I’d already expressed an interest in. It’d only taken me a couple of seconds to say yes. And the rest, as the saying goes, was history.

I didn’t speak to Pete for at least a week, even though he tried to fob me off with dry excuses on a couple of occasions. Finally, and thankfully, he had given up.

We were friends now, Pete and I. But I still reckoned that when he knew he couldn’t make our date, he should have tried to phone me, or at the very least sent me a text message. Leaving me standing outside the cinema like a prize lemon had been totally out of order.

Looking up at him now, I couldn’t help thinking how strange it was, the way things worked out. Now I was almost sorry Pete did stand me up. All that emotional energy I’d expended on Andrew had been for nothing.

‘Come on, Jayna, what is it?’ Pete took my arm and linked it with his own. The gesture was oddly comforting. ‘You look as if you could use a friend.’

I chewed on my bottom lip. ‘It’s Andrew. He left Fipoli and came home without me. The trouble is, no one seems to have seen him since. I’m beginning to get worried. And, of course, his family are blaming me, although it was Andrew who did the bunk, not the other way around.’

Pete was astounded. ‘What happened between the two of you in Fipoli?’

‘Nothing. That’s just it. We were having a great time, until the party.’

‘The party?’ Pete prompted.

I looked up at him, then quickly looked away. ‘Nothing. It’s not important. Right now, all I want to do is find Andrew and make sure he’s OK.’

Abruptly I stopped speaking. Without warning the hairs on my neck had started to prickle. I turned my head and looked down the street. There was no one there.

‘What’s the matter?’ Pete asked, looking down the street with me.

‘I don’t know. I’m not sure.’ I rubbed the back of my neck, but the tickly feeling refused to go away. ‘Let’s go, Pete.’ The prickling turned into a burning. I turned sharply. Something was very wrong.

I could feel it.

16

I LOOKED UP and down the street. The road was empty.

‘Jayna, what are you doing?’ Pete asked.

‘Nothing. Sorry, Pete. I guess I’m just tired.’ I forced a smile and walked faster.

‘I’m sure Andrew will turn up.’ Pete smiled, mistaking the reason for my tension.

‘I hope so.’

‘I know so,’ Pete replied. ‘Now then, I want to know all about your holiday. Where did you go and what did you do?’

For the remaining ten minutes until I reached home, I told him about the places Andrew and I had visited in the first week and a bit of our holiday. But talking about Andrew just made the cocktail of emotions within me swirl and mix until in the end I started to choke up, so I had to stop.

We reached my front gate.

‘Will you be OK, Jayna?’

‘Of course. Or at least, I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep,’ I said, rubbing the back of my neck. ‘And Andrew will probably turn up in the morning with some excuse or other.’

‘I can see you’re tired.’ Pete smiled. ‘Look, if you need me for anything – anything at all – just phone.’

‘I’ll take you up on that. Thanks, Pete.’ On impulse I stretched up and kissed his cheek. ‘Thanks again,’ I said, suddenly self-conscious.

‘Look after yourself, Jayna.’ Pete turned and walked away from me.

I watched him until he turned the corner, then with a sigh I opened the gate and walked to my front door. Shivering slightly, I wrapped my arms around myself for a moment. After searching through all my jacket pockets, I finally found my keys. Opening the door, I turned back to look along the empty street. The lights from the houses opposite made me feel even more alone. Entering an empty house didn’t appeal in the slightest.

‘Oh, Andrew, where are you? I wish you were here . . .’

A strong, icy wind blew past me and into the hall. I shivered as I went in and shut the door. The silence was almost eerie. A strange kind of listening silence. Wearily, I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, not bothering to turn on the hall light as I went. I trudged in, ready to fall on my bed, exhausted from travelling and fatigue and disappointment and worry. I put my hand out to turn on the light switch and someone grabbed my wrist. I opened my mouth to scream blue murder.

‘Jayna, don’t. It’s me . . .’

‘Andrew?’ I peered through the darkness. All I could see was his outline. ‘Andrew, that is you, isn’t it?’

‘Who else would it be? Pete?’

The relief I felt vanished immediately. Andrew’s voice sounded strange, hard. Sort of hollow.

‘Leave Pete out of this,’ I said furiously. ‘Where the hell have you been? Why did you leave me alone in Fipoli? How could you?’ Once again my hand moved towards the light switch.

‘No, Jayna. Don’t put it on. Not yet.’

‘Why not? I want to see you. I’ve been worried sick. D’you know what you’ve put me through? Look what you’ve turned me into – a nagging harpy. Something else I can thank you for. I sound like my bloody mother.’

‘I didn’t want to leave you – but I had no choice.’

‘What d’you mean?’ I stormed. ‘Let’s hear your excuse then, and it’d better be ace.’

Andrew looked weird in the darkness. Just a hazy shape that wouldn’t keep still, moving restlessly around the room.

‘Jayna, I . . . I’m different now. I look different.’ He was a silhouette against my bedroom window. If the curtains had been drawn or the moon new, I wouldn’t have been able to see him at all.

‘What do you mean – different? Look, I’ve had enough of this.’

Andrew’s hand was on mine the moment after I had switched on the light. I only had time to register that much before he turned quickly so that his back was towards me.

I blinked at him stupidly. How had he made it across my bedroom so quickly? I hadn’t even heard him move. He was dressed in black jeans and a burgundy T-shirt, the hem of which was visible beneath his black leather jacket. He hadn’t had that T-shirt with him on holiday.

‘So you have been home?’ I said, puzzled. ‘I don’t understand. I’ve just come from your place. Your mum was on my case because she hasn’t seen you.’

‘I was there earlier. I changed my clothes but made sure no one saw me.’

‘Why? Your family all think I’ve murdered you and left your body in Fipoli.’

‘I . . . I wanted you to see me first, Jayna,’ Andrew said slowly.

‘I don’t understand. And . . . wait a minute – how did you get in here? All the doors and windows are locked.’

There was a pause.

‘I got past you when you opened your front door,’ Andrew replied at last.

‘I don’t get it. How did you get past me without me seeing you?’ A slow chill ran down my spine. ‘Andrew? Look at me. Please.’ I walked towards him. Without warning he turned round to face me. I gasped and stumbled backwards.

Don’t, Jayna, don’t. It’s Andrew. Don’t. But I couldn’t help it.

I screamed.

17

ANDREW’S FACE TWISTED with regret. ‘I told you I looked different.’

‘My God . . .’

‘It’s still me, Jayna.’ He took a step towards me, his arms outstretched. I stumbled backwards into the bedroom door.

‘Jayna, don’t . . .’ he pleaded. ‘Now you see why I didn’t want anyone to see me before you did.’

I stared – not blinking, even once – and still I couldn’t believe my eyes. His face was pale, as pale as skimmed milk. Even his lips were pale, and thinner than usual.

But it was his eyes . . .

They were no longer the warm jade-green I knew so well; now they were hard and cold, like clear, green glass. It was like looking into the eyes of a stranger.

‘Andrew? What’s happened to you? Are you ill?’ I whispered.

There was a long pause. I wanted him to rush towards me. To hug me and tell me that everything was OK, that nothing had changed between us, that he was the same as ever. But he didn’t. He’d taken a step and I’d backed away. Now he would wait for me to make the next move. All the furious accusations I’d prepared to throw at him vanished like early morning mist. This was my Andrew. He’d never hurt me. Ever. His eyes might have changed but the expression on his face as he regarded me hadn’t. Quelling my nerves, I walked over to him. And still he didn’t move. I stood directly in front of him, drinking in his appearance.

‘Let me see your wrists,’ I asked.

Andrew slowly held out his hands, palms up. I took them in my own. They were cool, almost cold. I leaned in for a closer look. There were no wounds, no puncture marks. His skin was smooth.

‘I thought . . .’ I said, confused. ‘I must’ve imagined . . .’

‘The scars have healed.’ The words were spoken so softly I almost didn’t catch them. ‘Julius offered me a choice, Jayna. Life or death. My decision.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘He bit me . . . then drank my blood.’

My stomach flipped. Oh God! ‘I . . . I hoped all that was just a nightmare I’d had when I passed out. Some kind of hallucination. Or that Julius biting you was the only part of it that had actually happened and the rest was my imagination . . .’

I couldn’t believe what I was saying. Was I really standing here hoping that some psycho lunatic had only bitten my boyfriend but not drunk his blood, like biting people until they bled was somehow normal? I briefly closed my eyes, feeling like seven kinds of a coward. I should’ve gone to the police and told them what I knew when I’d been in Fipoli. I shouldn’t have let Julius get away with it. How many others had been through the same ordeal as Andrew and me? Something told me that we weren’t the first. And it was all my fault. Andrew hadn’t even wanted to go to Julius’s party. I was the one who had insisted otherwise.

‘Jayna, you pleaded for my life but you were too late. Julius told you that, but you didn’t understand. You couldn’t understand. You were too late. I’d lost too much blood. When you begged for my life, he felt sorry for me, for both of us . . . for all of us. So he gave me just enough of his blood to bring me round, then he offered me life or death. My choice. No one else’s. I . . . I chose to live.’

The blood rushing around my body almost drowned out Andrew’s words. How I wished I could drown out his words, every single one of them.

‘Julius saved my life . . . by giving me his blood,’ said Andrew.

‘He bit his wrist,’ I said. ‘I remember now.’ The full horrific memory came limping back. I must have blanked it out, too afraid to remember every detail of what had happened.

‘Julius gave me back my life the only way he could.’ Andrew took a step towards me. ‘When I chose life, he made me drink fully from him, made me the same as him.’

‘But blood transfusions don’t work like that,’ I said, confused.

‘Jayna, I’m not talking about a blood transfusion. I drank Julius’s blood so I’m the same as him now. A . . . vampire. That’s why I couldn’t travel back with you. I can only travel at night now.’

Silence descended around us. A moment’s hesitation, then I began to laugh. To think for a split second there, I’d actually believed him. God, I was gullible.

My smile faded. ‘Andrew, how about you tell me the real reason you deserted me in Fipoli?’

‘It’s the truth, Jayna,’ he said quietly. ‘Julius made me a vampire.’

Did he really expect me to believe that? ‘Yeah, right . . . where are your fangs, then?’ I folded my arms across my chest. Why was I even indulging Andrew in this ridiculous conversation?

‘My teeth only emerge when I’m about to feed. And it’s not just my canines – all my teeth extend.’

‘Of course they do.’ I sighed. ‘Andrew, this isn’t funny any more. Are you going to tell me why you left me to come home alone from Fipoli or not?’

‘Jayna, you’re not listening to me.’

‘If you don’t want to go out with me any more, why can’t you just come right out and say so? Why all this guff? But you should’ve had the guts to tell me before we—’

‘Jayna, shut up!’

Every word in my mouth dried up.

‘I’m telling you the truth,’ Andrew said, exasperated. ‘Don’t you think I know how this sounds? I’m a vampire. It’s what I am now. I can’t go back and I can’t change it.’ He closed his eyes and his whole body slumped before my eyes.

The look of utter despair on his face said so much. I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know what to think. Then I realized. The drinks Julius had given us – he must’ve put some kind of hallucinatory drug in them. I’d thought I’d seen Julius drinking Andrew’s blood. Andrew thought he was a vampire. But why was I over my drink, while Andrew still wasn’t over his? Perhaps because he’d had more than me? Why had Julius done it? What had he done to us when we were both unconscious? We should both go and get ourselves checked out. The doctors would be able to explain.

‘Andrew, I think we should both go to the local hospital. We should see a doctor. Whatever Julius put in our drinks is obviously still in your bloodstream and is making you hallucinate. It might still be in mine. We need to—’

Andrew grabbed my hand and pulled me over to my dressing-table mirror. He stood beside me as I looked into it. I stared and stared until I thought my eyes must surely fall out of their sockets. My image was reflected back normally. Andrew’s wasn’t. In fact, I had to strain to see him. Looking in the mirror, he was a blur – little more than a mist that I could see right through, to the bedroom wall behind us.

‘I’m telling the truth,’ said Andrew quietly.

My blood turned to Antarctic water inside me. I started shaking, and once I’d started I couldn’t stop. My free hand flew to my mouth and I turned to look at him, touching his chest, his face, with tentative fingers. He was solid, real – but cold. I turned back to his reflection. It hadn’t changed. Indistinct mist. Instinctively, I backed away, staring at him.

‘Are you going to turn away from me?’ Andrew asked. His voice was oh so sad.

‘No! Come on! This can’t be real. You’re playing some kind of joke on me, aren’t you? Aren’t you?’ I tried to laugh and failed miserably.

Andrew didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. I searched for something else to say, but my mind went blank.

‘Is that it, then? Are you going to turn your back on me?’ he asked again. ‘Are we over?’

I don’t know how long we stood, watching each other. Moments or minutes. He looked so forlorn, so lonely. Slowly, I walked towards him, trying not even to acknowledge the presence of the mirror in my room. My body trembled, my heart pumped like a piston. I shook my head.

‘I’m not turning away.’ I tried to smile but my face twisted in parody. I stopped walking when we were only centimetres apart. Strange unexpected excitement mingled with the real and intense fear within me. ‘Tell me what happened,’ I said, for want of something better to say. Where were the important things, the earth-shattering things that I should’ve been saying? My head was filled with small details. ‘What happened when I . . . I passed out?’

‘It’s kind of sketchy. I remember lying down next to you in the bedroom for a while until my head wasn’t spinning so much. The party had finished by then. I staggered to my feet and went to ask Julius if he could drive us back to the hostel or at least phone for a taxi for us . . .’ Andrew frowned deeply. ‘I don’t remember much after that. The rest you know better than I do.’

‘But I thought I was out for ages.’

Andrew shook his head. ‘You must’ve got up only a minute or so after me. And if you hadn’t woken up, I’d be dead.’

Was that really true? I shook my head. ‘I didn’t say much. I didn’t do anything.’

‘According to Julius, you said enough.’

‘You spoke to him?’

‘When he’d revived me with his own blood, yes. He’d planned to kill me, not to change me . . .’

‘I see.’ I didn’t see it all.

‘He explained what I was . . . what to expect.’

I swallowed hard. ‘You still haven’t told me why you left me alone.’ It was important to keep talking. Talking stopped my thoughts from overwhelming me.

‘I had to sort out in my own mind what was happening. I had to be alone for a while. And like I said, I could only travel at night.’

I turned to look in the mirror. Andrew’s lack of reflection hadn’t changed. Could Andrew really be a . . .? I turned to my boyfriend, needing to see his eyes, needing to see the true him. His eyes . . . his eyes may have changed, but I could still recognize the light within them. He wasn’t lying. Andrew was—I mentally shook my head. There were no such things. And yet here he was . . .

‘Are you . . . do you . . . drink . . . like Julius?’ I asked. Surely the truth couldn’t be as horrific as the pictures my mind was painting?

‘I have to. Otherwise I’ll die.’

My mouth opened, only to snap shut again without uttering a word. It was impossible to frame my next question.

‘Jayna, I don’t prey on people. I feed on animals,’ Andrew said quietly.

Was my expression really so easy to read? ‘Animals?’ I repeated stupidly.

Andrew shrugged. ‘Cats, dogs . . .’

‘Live animals?’

Andrew nodded. ‘It has to be fresh, warm blood . . .’ His sentence trailed off at my very visible shudder of revulsion. ‘I have no choice, Jayna. Do you want me to die?’

‘Of course not. How could you even ask me that?’ I protested. ‘But to eat live animals . . .’

‘I don’t eat them. I drink their blood. Besides, you eat meat – chicken, lamb, beef, pork . . .’

‘That’s different.’

‘How is it different? Because it’s cooked?’ he mocked.

‘Because it’s . . . it’s dead by the time it gets to me,’ I replied.

‘So that’s acceptable as long as you don’t have to do your own killing?’

‘Yes . . . I . . . no, I never said that.’ Wearily I moved away from Andrew to sit on my bed. He walked over to me, his eyes never leaving my face. Each of his steps was measured, as if he was giving me every chance to move away or tell him to back off. He sat down on the bed, and if he wasn’t next to me, then he wasn’t exactly at the other end of the bed either.

‘I disgust you,’ he said.

Reaching out, I took hold of his hand. It felt icy cold, even colder than before. ‘You could never disgust me,’ I told him. Taking a deep breath, I fought to hang onto the one thing, the only thing that mattered. ‘Andrew, I . . . I love you. Nothing will ever change that. You’ll just have to give me some time to get used to the idea, that’s all. I’m having trouble absorbing it. Accepting it. When you left me alone in Fipoli, I thought . . . I thought that maybe you’d changed your mind and decided the two of us together was a mistake. I thought that leaving me alone was your way of telling me without creating a scene.’

‘Jayna, I’m not your dad,’ said Andrew softly.

No, he wasn’t. I had to stop thinking that Andrew would abandon me like my dad had. He’d left me alone in Fipoli, but for a good reason. I needed to let go of the past or it would never let go of me. It was time to stop treating Andrew like he was about to let me down from a great height. Neither of us spoke for a while.

‘How . . . how does it feel? How do you feel?’ I asked. ‘I can’t imagine . . .’

In the silence that followed, I thought Andrew wasn’t going to answer my question.

‘I’m scared, Jayna,’ he said suddenly, his eyes fixed on the wall directly in front of us.

‘Scared?’ I whispered.

‘Terrified.’ He tried to laugh, failing miserably. ‘I feel so—Even you shunned me.’

‘I didn’t. At least . . . I didn’t mean to. It was just such a shock.’ I shuffled along the bed to sit next to him, putting my arms around his waist. Coldness – like a blast from a freezer – radiated from his body. I hugged him tighter. He placed a hesitant arm round my shoulders. ‘I’m here, Andrew.’ I didn’t know what else to say.

‘Jayna, I want to ask you something.’

‘I’m listening,’ I prompted.

Something grave was about to happen. I could feel it. My breath caught in my throat and refused to move any higher. I looked up at Andrew. He looked at me.

‘What is it, Andrew?’ I asked.

Slowly Andrew stroked my skin, from my earlobe down to where my neck joined my shoulder. His icy fingers sent an electric shiver racing through me. At last he spoke, but I had to strain to catch his words, even though I was right next to him.

‘Jayna,’ he said, ‘let me drink from you. Join me . . .’

18

I DIDN’T EVEN try to pretend that I’d misheard. The only sound in the room was my heart thundering.

‘Jayna, don’t be scared,’ Andrew said softly. He looked down at my breast as if he could see my heart through my jumper, through my flesh. ‘Let me drink.’ His words were mesmerizing and I felt myself weaken, draw to him. ‘Then you can be like me. Then we can be together, always. Don’t you want us to be together? Please . . .’

‘Andrew, I—’

The peal of the doorbell at that moment was like water thrown over me. The spell was broken.

‘Don’t answer it.’ Andrew frowned.

‘I have to, Andrew.’ I pulled out of his grasp. ‘It might be important.’

I bolted out of the room, shutting the door behind me, and ran downstairs. Time to think. That’s what I needed. What would have happened, what would I have said to Andrew if the doorbell hadn’t rung? I flung open the door.

‘Oh, it’s you, Jayna. Thank goodness for that.’

‘Hi, Mrs Tout,’ I said, unable to keep the sigh out of my voice.

‘I thought you were away on holiday.’ My neighbour frowned at me.

‘I was. We . . . we came back early.’

‘Oh, I see. I knew your mum and sister were still in the Lake District and I thought you were away, so when I saw the lights on I naturally wondered . . .’ She trailed off. I didn’t help her out. ‘Well, it could have been burglars!’

I could well believe that Mrs Tout had seen my light. Mum and I often joked about our neighbour sitting by her window each evening peering into her neighbours’ houses. Mum said it had to be cheaper and more interesting than watching the soaps on telly. Mrs Tout was the typical suburban widow, either in her day uniform of form-fitting tracksuit or her night uniform of tight-fitting trousers and a tighter-fitting top. For the first time I was more grateful for the interruption than irritated by her nosiness.

‘Mrs Tout, what would you have done if it had been burglars who opened the door instead of me?’ I asked drily.

Mrs Tout started at my words. She frowned at me, then slowly smiled. ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘I hadn’t worked that part out. I saw the light on and marched straight over here.’

‘Well, it’s only me.’ I smiled.

Neither of us spoke for a few moments.

‘So why did you come back from your holiday early?’ she asked.

Here we go, I thought, resigning myself to a ten-hour session on the doorstep.

‘Jayna, who is it?’

Mrs Tout almost jumped out of her shoes at the sound of Andrew’s voice from upstairs. ‘Who’s that?’ she asked suspiciously, after regaining her composure.

‘Er . . . it’s Andrew.’

‘Oh, I see.’

She saw far too much! My face grew warm and I wanted to explain that Andrew’s presence in the house was perfectly innocent. Then I got annoyed and even more embarrassed at wanting to explain something that was none of Mrs Tout’s business. And as for Andrew’s presence being innocent . . . he was . . . a . . .

I couldn’t even say it. I couldn’t hardly think it. It was unreal. Surreal. Here he was, pale and cold and with eyes that gave me ice burns. Yet he was still my Andrew. And I was still crazy about him. So why was my stomach flipping at the thought of being alone with him? Behind me, he came slowly down the stairs, stopping when he got halfway down them and not coming any further. Mrs Tout’s head craned forward like a tortoise stretching its head out of its shell.

‘How’s your mother, Andrew?’ Mrs Tout said with a frown. If I hadn’t been standing directly in her way, I’m sure she would have pushed past me.

‘She’s fine, thank you,’ Andrew said, his tone polite but icy.

‘Are you feeling all right, Andrew? You look a little strange.’ Mrs Tout’s frown deepened.

‘I’m fine, Mrs Tout. Never better,’ he replied.

I glanced behind. Andrew hadn’t moved. The hall light wasn’t on, so what little light there was came from the street lamp outside. His face was partly in shadow, partly illuminated by the dim light outside. He did indeed look strange.

An uneasy silence reigned.

‘Well, I’ll leave you two to it.’ Mrs Tout’s blush at her own words was very noticeable, even in this dim light. I was tempted to ask just what it was she thought she was leaving us to.

‘OK, Mrs Tout. Thanks for looking out for our house.’

‘You’re welcome,’ she replied, missing the irony in my voice.

I waved her off, closing the door firmly behind her. Seconds later, I switched on the hall light. At that moment, the dark wasn’t my friend.

‘I knew it was her all the time. I could hear her from up in your bedroom. Nosy old bag!’ Andrew said with disgust.

‘You’re a right one to talk about nosy. I shut my bedroom door, but you still opened it to have a listen,’ I pointed out.

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘All right, then. You came out onto the landing.’

‘Nope. I could hear both of you perfectly well from your bedroom.’ He shrugged. ‘I reckoned you needed rescuing, that’s all.’

‘You heard me? With the door shut?’ I was sceptical, until the look on Andrew’s face told me he wasn’t joking.

‘Jayna, I can do all sorts of things I’d never even dreamed of before,’ he said, walking towards me. He took my hands into his. His hands were even colder now. They felt horrible. Almost clammy. Like holding the hands of a ghost. ‘I can hear things I could never hear before – conversations from across the street, a dog panting at the top of the road . . . Jayna, you’d love it. Let me . . .’

I pulled my hands away from his. ‘No . . . not now, Andrew, please. Don’t . . . I can’t take this in. Not all at once. Please . . .’

‘Jayna, I don’t have much—’ Andrew raised a paper-white hand to his temples and swayed slightly.

‘What’s the matter?’ I moved towards him.

‘I have to go. I’ll be back soon.’ He was lurching around like a drunk now. He placed one hand on the wall to steady himself but it didn’t do much good. I ran to hold him up.

‘Where are you going? What’s wrong?’

I don’t think he heard me. Andrew pushed past me, towards the front door. He pulled it open and staggered down the path, leaving the door wide open.

I started after him. ‘Andrew—’

‘No! Don’t follow me,’ he hissed.

Uncertain, I watched him, wondering what I should do.

‘I’ll be back.’ His whisper was harsh and drawn. He ignored me and started off down the street like a bat out of hell. I shut the front door and leaned against it. Now what? At least I had some breathing space. I walked into the kitchen and splashed my face under the cold tap. I was freezing cold and yet burning up, all at once. You’ll wake up tomorrow, I told myself. You’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream.

It had to be.

I was drying my face on some kitchen towel when the doorbell rang. Mrs Tout again? Or Andrew.

I went to open the door. Immediately, Andrew stepped into the house. He grinned at me, looking more like his normal self. His skin wasn’t quite so pale, his irises not quite so glassy. His whole body was more relaxed.

‘That’s better.’ He smiled. ‘Come here.’

I stayed where I was. I wasn’t keen on being ordered around.

‘Please,’ he cajoled. He held out his hands. Slowly, almost reluctantly, I took them in mine. They weren’t cold any more.

‘Why are your hands so warm all of a sudden?’ I asked.

A terrible thought crept into my head and refused to go away. Andrew looked at me without saying a word, his cheeks flushed, his lips red. I clamped my teeth together.

‘What do you want me to say?’ said Andrew. ‘I hadn’t fed since yesterday. I was hungry, feeling faint.’

‘And your food?’ I whispered.

‘There was a fox . . . in a garden a few doors down . . .’

I turned my head, a hair’s breadth away from throwing up.

‘Don’t look like that.’ Andrew’s voice was bitter. ‘A car needs petrol to run. You need food. It just happens that I need blood. I have to drink, Jayna, otherwise I’ll die.’

I didn’t trust myself to speak until my stomach quietened. I kept swallowing hard.

‘Besides, I buried its body when I’d finished.’

‘That’s hardly the point,’ I said furiously. ‘This isn’t about whether or not you tidy up when you’re done. It’s about what you do. It’s about what you are. You’re a . . . a . . .’

‘Say it.’ Andrew grasped my upper arms. His hands were like twin vices. ‘Say it.’

‘Andrew, you’re hurting me,’ I gasped, pushing at his chest.

He released me at once. ‘I’m sorry, Jayna,’ he said. ‘I forget I’m a lot stronger when I’ve just—I’m sorry.’

I rubbed my upper arms. They were sore as hell. I’d have painful bruises there by morning.

‘Jayna, I need to know how you feel about me . . . about us?’ He watched me, not blinking once, looking as if he could read all the thoughts in my head almost before I became aware of them.

‘I love you. You know that,’ I whispered.

‘But?’

‘No buts.’

Silence.

‘Jayna, what are we going to do?’ he asked.

‘About what?’

‘About us? About the way I am now?’

‘I don’t see that there’s very much we can do about it,’ I said unhappily. ‘I’m having trouble thinking straight.’

‘I see.’

‘No, you don’t.’ I shook my head. ‘I’m frightened, Andrew. Are you really . . .?’ I couldn’t finish.

‘Yes.’ Andrew’s answer was immediate.

‘Can’t you do something . . .? Are you sure there’s no way to change you back?’

‘I don’t want to be changed back.’ His voice was unexpectedly hard. ‘I’m strong, powerful. I can do things now that I never even dreamed of before.’ There was something in his voice, some new note that I’d never heard before.

‘But earlier you said . . . you said that you were scared,’ I reminded him.

‘Only of one thing.’

‘What’s that?’ I whispered.

There was a long pause before Andrew answered, ‘That you won’t join me.’

‘But Andrew, you’re . . . you’re . . .’

‘You still can’t say it, can you?’ he challenged.

I didn’t reply. How could I say it? It was such a ridiculous word. It conjured up images of Gothic castles and wild horsemen and red contact lenses and yet, here before me, was Andrew. Not like the film images at all. Almost normal.

‘I’m still the same person, Jayna. You can see that, can’t you?’

‘I guess . . . How does it make you feel, inside?’

‘I told you. Powerful. In control.’

‘No, I’m not talking about physically. I’m talking about . . . emotionally.’

‘That depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On whether or not you join me.’ Andrew’s intense look burned right through me.

‘So we’re back to that?’

‘Let me make you the same as me. Let me drink from you.’

I swallowed hard. This was it. Yes or no. A new, strange existence with Andrew, or a life without him.

The choice was mine.

19

I BURIED MY head in my hands, desperately trying to pull my scattered thoughts together.

‘Andrew, I need time to think.’

‘About what? If you really love me as you say you do—’

‘Stop it!’ I cried out. ‘Stop rushing me. Stop using how I feel about you against me.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Yes, you are. I still can’t believe that you’re . . . I didn’t even think they really existed. Now you’re standing there saying that not only are you a . . . a . . . but also that you want to make me one too. The thought of it turns my stomach. It’s disgusting—’ I broke off abruptly when I realized what I’d said. Andrew looked like I’d slapped him. ‘Andrew, I didn’t mean . . .’

‘Yes, you did.’

Silence.

‘Please. Just give me until tomorrow. That’s all I’m asking. I need time to think.’

‘All right. Have it your own way. I’ll come round tomorrow.’

I nodded gratefully. ‘Thank you. So where are you going now? Home?’

‘I guess so. I’ve nowhere else to go,’ he said. There it was again, that note in his voice that made me want to take him in my arms and never let him go. It took all my resolve not to ask him to stay with me. God knows I wanted to. Even though we were together, neither of us had ever felt so alone.

‘I think you should go home before your mum has me arrested for abducting you,’ I said at last.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said. ‘And Jayna, do me a favour?’

‘Anything.’ Almost anything.

‘Don’t tell anyone you’ve seen me. Not yet,’ said Andrew.

I nodded. Andrew left my house and turned to walk along the street. After a few steps, he turned back to regard me for a moment, saying nothing, before he continued on his way. I shut the front door. Tomorrow. I’d wait till tomorrow. Maybe there was a way out of this for Andrew, and me. Maybe he was only saying he didn’t want to change because he thought he couldn’t.

But first things first. Right now, all I wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep. And maybe I would sleep my troubles away. Mum always said that things looked better in the morning.

20

MONDAY AFTERNOON WAS beautiful. I woke up with sunshine streaming through my window and warming my face. I felt better; not good, but better. I had a long, cool shower and trotted downstairs for a late breakfast. Only once I was in the kitchen I wasn’t hungry any more. I rattled around like a lone bean in a tin can. I opened the fridge and then closed it. Opened cupboard doors, then closed them. I sighed, about to give up, when the doorbell rang unexpectedly, making me jump.

Andrew? God, I hadn’t expected him to come round so early. The bell rang again. Wiping my sweaty hands on some kitchen towel, I went to open the door, my heart crashing against my ribs.

It was Pete.

‘Hello, Pete. Come in.’ I smiled with relief, stepping aside for him.

‘Hiya, Jayna. You’re pleased to see me,’ he said, surprised. Then his eyes narrowed. ‘What are you after? I don’t owe you money, do I?’

‘Of course not!’ I laughed, shutting the door behind him. ‘Though if you can’t remember I should’ve said you did.’ We went into the kitchen, where I poured myself a glass of orange juice and then sat down.

‘D’you mind if I have one?’ Pete asked.

‘Sorry, Pete! Help yourself. I’ve got a lot on my mind.’

‘Yeah, I can guess.’ He frowned. ‘Andy hasn’t turned up yet, then?’

I shrugged, unsure how to answer. Andrew had asked me not to say anything about his return. I wasn’t sure why, but the least I could do was respect his wishes.

‘I just popped round to see how you were after last night. Is there anything I can do for you?’ Pete asked, his head buried in the fridge.

I shook my head as I watched him. ‘No, but thanks for offering.’

Pete looked round and smiled at me. If he and I had been an item, my life would be so uncomplicated.

‘What are you thinking? You look wistful.’

‘I was just wondering what it would have been like to go out with you – if you hadn’t stood me up on our first date. Do you remember?’

‘Yes, I remember,’ he said quietly. His smile had disappeared.

‘Why did you stand me up?’

‘I wanted to explain at the time, but you weren’t in the mood to listen and Andrew was always nearby.’

‘What’s Andrew got to do with it?’

Pete straightened up, a carton of milk in his hand. Frown lines creased his forehead. ‘Jayna, are you and Andrew still going strong?’

‘Yes. I guess . . .’ I replied. ‘You’d better sniff that before you drink any.’

Pete swirled the milk around in its carton. He opened his mouth to speak, only to snap it shut. His expression was a kaleidoscope of indecision before he finally made up his mind and the indecision cleared.

‘Look, I’m not telling you this to stir up trouble between you and Andrew. But I do want to clear the air on this one,’ he said at last.

‘What are you talking about?’ I asked, my orange juice forgotten in my hands.

‘I didn’t stand you up, Jayna. Or rather I didn’t meet you outside the cinema like we’d planned, but I did send you a message to say I couldn’t make it.’

‘I didn’t get any message.’

‘I know.’ Pete’s face was grim.

‘There were no messages on my phone. I double-and triple-checked.’

‘My phone died on me a couple of hours before we were due to go on our date. I had to find some other way to let you know I wasn’t going to make it,’ said Pete.

‘Did you leave a message with my mum?’ I voiced my suspicion. Mum was really bad at passing on my messages.

He shook his head.

I was getting impatient. ‘Stop being so mysterious, Pete Shorman. What happened?’

‘I . . . I asked someone to tell you that I wouldn’t be able to make it,’ he said quietly.

‘Who?’

‘Can’t you guess?’

‘Pete, for heaven’s sake! Just come right out and—’ I stared at him. ‘You don’t mean . . .’

‘I asked Andrew to tell you,’ he said quietly.

‘You can’t be serious. My Andrew?’ I couldn’t believe it.

‘Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything . . .’

Why did people say what they wanted, only to wonder afterwards if maybe they shouldn’t have said anything?

‘Let me get this straight. You asked Andrew to tell me you couldn’t make it to our first date, and instead of passing on your message, he took me out himself?’

He shrugged. ‘That’s about right.’

‘I don’t believe it. Andrew would never do anything so . . . so underhand,’ I protested vehemently. I stared at him. I couldn’t believe it, wouldn’t believe it. Andrew wouldn’t do something so despicable. He just wouldn’t.

Pete looked at me, then burst out laughing. ‘You have to admit, Jayna, I did have you going for a while.’

‘Pete, you git! I should brain you. I thought you were serious,’ I said, shaking my head.

‘I’m good, aren’t I?’

‘Very,’ I agreed ruefully. ‘So are you going to tell me why you stood me up or not?’

‘Where do you keep your glasses?’ he asked, abandoning the milk after a cautious sniff at it.

Impatiently, I pointed to the high-level cupboard next to the cooker. Pete took out a glass and poured himself some juice, slowly swirling it round before drinking it.

‘Well?’ I asked.

‘It’s as you thought. I simply forgot we had a date.’

I should’ve been annoyed, insulted at the very least, but I wasn’t. ‘At least you’re honest,’ I said drily.

‘Aren’t I just,’ he said, before knocking back the last of his orange juice. ‘Come on, then. If you’ve finished stuffing your face, let’s go out somewhere. It will stop you worrying about Andrew for a while.’

‘Is it that obvious?’

Pete smiled. ‘Jayna, you have a face like an illustrated book.’

I thought about it. Should I wait for Andrew? But how could I? I didn’t know what time he’d turn up. I thought about phoning him but decided against it. I was missing him, but what we both needed was a few hours away from each other. Time to consider. I still hadn’t worked out what we were going to do, what I was going to do.

But I had to make up my mind, and soon.

21

PETE AND I spent the rest of the day together. We just ambled about, talking. Pete didn’t even mind when I suggested that we go into town to do some window-shopping – Andrew hated that sort of thing. The hours flew by until finally we hopped on a bus and headed back home. We bought a takeaway pizza and started walking back to my house. The day had flown by to make way for a beautiful evening. Scattered cotton ball clouds blotted the sky, and the low sun was so orange it almost looked like the sky was on fire. I raised my face, my eyes closed, enjoying the feel of the fading sunlight on my face. It was delicious.

‘I never figured you for a sun-worshipper,’ Pete noted with a smile.

‘Who wouldn’t be on a day like today? The whole day was perfect.’

‘It has been fun,’ he agreed.

Once home, we sat in the living room eating the pizza. Pete was good company. He seemed to know when to speak, and when to stay silent. Just the occasional smile as we sat eating pizzas was enough. With a start I realized what it was about him that comforted me. He was normal. He represented normality when everything else around me was topsy-turvy. To think that I should find something so ordinary so attractive.

The living room grew darker. I stood up and went to the window to close the curtains. As I looked out of the window I could see that the sun had now set.

‘What are you doing?’ Pete asked, moving to stand behind me.

‘Watching the sky before it gets dark.’

‘Come and let me thrash you at Olympic Tennis instead.’

I wasn’t really in the mood for a computer game. The only thing I had on my mind was Andrew and what I would do when I saw him again, but I smiled and closed the curtains, wondering why Andrew hadn’t even phoned me yet. Would he come to see me like he said he would? Or maybe he would simply give up and not bother? No, the Andrew I knew would never give up.

Pete switched on the TV and set up our match. Within five minutes he was two games down and losing 15–40 in the third game.

‘Are you asleep or just phoning it in?’ I teased.

‘Right! It’s on now,’ Pete took a firmer hold of his controller, like that would do any good.

Another five minutes and I was serving for the set. Then, to my annoyance, the doorbell rang.

‘Oh, Pete, could you get that?’ I said. ‘It’s probably Mrs Tout from across the street. If I answer the door, she’ll insist on coming in. Don’t let her keep you talking, whatever you do.’

‘What about the match?’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll pause our game and thrash you when you get back.’ I grinned.

‘We’ll just see about that,’ he replied.

Fighting words! Pete went to answer the door whilst I practised my backhand. The next thing I heard was the front door being slammed shut and a violent commotion. Dropping the game controller, I ran into the hall. Then I saw something that chilled my soul.

Andrew, his face puce with rage, had hold of Pete by the neck and was holding him up in the air. Pete’s feet were well off the ground and kicking furiously. And he was choking, desperately trying to yell out to be put down, but he couldn’t draw enough breath to fill his lungs and speak coherently. His eyes were furious – and terrified. He couldn’t believe what was happening. Andrew stepped closer into him, his arm tensing as his grip on Pete tightened. A few more seconds and he’d snap Pete’s neck.

‘No . . . Andrew!’ I screamed. ‘Don’t . . .’

Andrew began to extend his arm and I rushed forward to where Andrew would have thrown Pete.

‘Andrew, put him down. Now! Please!’

‘What’s he doing here?’ Andrew asked furiously.

‘Eating pizza and playing computer games, that’s all,’ I said quickly. ‘Now let go of him!’

Andrew glared at me and I stared back. This Andrew I’d never seen before – his face was hard and gaunt, his eyes like lasers burning straight into me. Then he took a deep breath and his body relaxed. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again my Andrew was back. Slowly he lowered his arms and set Pete down.

Pete collapsed onto the hall carpet, coughing and retching as he tried to breathe again. His hands flew to his neck as he tried to rub away the pain he still felt. ‘Andrew, what the hell d’you think you’re doing?’ he croaked, staggering to his feet.

Andrew was still looking at me as Pete drew back his arm and, making a fist, swung for him. Andrew caught the punch so quickly that I didn’t even see his hand move. And he was still looking at me.

‘Go away, Pete. I want to talk to Jayna,’ Andrew said quietly.

‘I’m not leaving her with you,’ Pete said furiously, pulling away his hand.

‘Yes, you are.’ For the first time Andrew turned to look at Pete, and Pete flinched, his head moving back slightly.

‘It’s OK, Pete. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow. OK?’ I didn’t want him in a fight he couldn’t win.

‘Jayna, are you going to be all right?’ Pete said after a long pause.

‘Of course I am.’ I tried to smile and failed miserably. ‘Thanks for coming to see me today.’

‘Are you sure you want me to leave?’

I nodded.

‘I’m coming round to see you first thing tomorrow morning,’ Pete said, glaring at Andrew.

‘No, it’s OK. I’ll phone you – I promise. Sometime tomorrow.’

Two spots of colour, red as blood, appeared on Andrew’s cheeks. I went to walk round him to see Pete to the door, but Andrew caught my arm and wouldn’t let me past. So I watched as Pete stepped out of the house. He cast one last look at me.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said softly.

I smiled unhappily. Then Andrew shut the door and I closed my eyes, stretching out my fingers until my joints ached.

‘Take your damned hands off me,’ I hissed up at him, pulling away. ‘Who the hell do you think you are? Morgan?’ A dam had burst inside me and I couldn’t control the rage spewing out of my mouth.

‘You shouldn’t have let him in here—’ Andrew began.

‘Oh? And just when did my mum sell this house to you? If I want the whole of the Manchester United football team in here, there’s not a damn thing you can do or say about it. What the hell did you think you were doing, lifting Pete up like that?’

Andrew regarded me but said nothing.

‘How dare you humiliate me like that? What’s the matter with you? Did that man in Fipoli suck out your brains as well as your blood?’

And still Andrew said nothing, which just made me more furious. I wanted to lash out and hurt him. I yearned to hurt him.

‘I’m sorry I ever laid eyes on you,’ I shouted. ‘You disgust me. And you want to turn me into the same as you? Well, I won’t let you do it. I won’t. I won’t. You turn my stomach.’

I saw him swallow. Just that. He swallowed – and I knew I’d gone too far.

22

ANDREW TURNED AWAY from me. His hunched shoulders, his whole demeanour, made him seem like an old man as he walked towards the front door and opened it.

‘I’m sorry I troubled you,’ he said quietly, his back to me. ‘I won’t bother you again, Jayna, you have my word.’ He went out of the house, closing the door slowly behind him.

‘Andrew . . .’

He didn’t close the door but he didn’t open it either. I waited. He waited.

‘Andrew, don’t . . . don’t go.’

An eternity passed. Andrew walked back into the house, his head bent. He shut the door carefully before leaning his forehead against it, his back to me. I couldn’t see his face, his expression. What was he thinking? Was he as unhappy as I was?

So this was it. The moment of decision. It was up to me now. We were a sigh’s breadth away from splitting up. And I didn’t want that to happen. God knows I didn’t.

‘Make me the same as you, Andrew.’ It was a struggle to get the words out. ‘Make it so we can always be together . . .’

‘Why?’

He still hadn’t turned round. It made what I had to say easier.

‘Because I’m miserable. Because we’re not the same any more, but . . . but I’d rather be miserable with you than without you.’

‘Once you’re the same as me, there will be no going back.’

‘I know.’

He straightened up and turned round to face me. ‘I’m sorry about Pete. I lost my temper.’

‘You had no reason to.’

‘I know. I see that now.’

He stood at the front door. I stood by the stairs. Why were we so far apart? I was confused. I did love him, but what he was, what he did, still turned me off. Looking at Andrew now, I tried to tell myself that he was still the same. We were still the same. We loved each other. So why couldn’t I get over this feeling that what I was about to do was very, very wrong?

‘So what happens next?’ I asked at last.

‘When are your mum and Teegan coming home?’

‘Not until Saturday.’

‘Then let’s go upstairs.’

At his words, I shook physically. I was scared – and ashamed because I felt so scared.

‘A-are you going to m-make love to me?’ I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

‘I can’t. Not until you’re the same as me,’ said Andrew. ‘Then I’m all yours.’

‘I don’t understand. Why do I need to be the same as you first?’ I asked.

‘Just something Julius told me. Trust me on this,’ said Andrew.

I opened my mouth to argue with him, to ask for more details, but then I thought better of it. Some things were maybe best left unsaid.

He smiled, guessing at the conflict going on in my head. My curiosity was voracious and I wasn’t usually shy about asking upfront and personal questions. I smiled back ruefully and Andrew held out his hand. I moved forward to take it. This was it. After tonight there would be no going back.

Once in my room, Andrew sat on my chair while I sat on the very edge of the bed. My stomach knotted with tension. Strangely, I wanted to laugh. Laugh and never stop. All day I’d avoided even thinking about this moment, as if by not thinking about it, I could stop it from happening. Now here I was, caught up in something I couldn’t understand or control.

‘What happens now? Do you take blood from my wrist or what?’

Andrew shrugged. ‘Your wrist, your neck. Where doesn’t matter.’

‘Will it hurt?’

He nodded slowly. If he’d said or done otherwise, I wouldn’t have believed him. ‘Then you’ll be out of it for a while, but when you wake up, you’ll be . . .’

‘Like you,’ I finished. ‘Let’s get on with it.’

There are no such things as blood drinkers . . . vampires . . . the Undead . . . no such things . . .

Except for the man in Fipoli, and the man in my room and, in just a little while . . .

‘Are you sure?’ Andrew said.

I swallowed hard. ‘Yes. I . . . I think so.’

‘All right, then.’

I nodded my agreement. ‘Do you know exactly what you have to do?’ I asked.

There was a discernible pause before he replied, ‘Don’t worry. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.’

‘Well, the sooner we start, the sooner it’ll be over.’ Get it done, I thought. I just wanted it to be over.

Andrew stood up and came over to sit next to me. ‘Are you afraid?’

‘Petrified!’ I admitted, and I wasn’t joking.

‘Don’t be. In a little while you will be immortal, like a god.’

His eyes were turning ice cold again and I could hear my heart pounding, pounding in my chest.

Don’t do it . . . Do it . . . Don’t do it . . . The words played over and over in my head.

‘Are you going to drink my blood?’ I whispered.

‘Yes. I—Yes.’

I lowered my gaze, then turned away, trying to frame my next question. There had to be another way. We could be together without this . . . couldn’t we? He folded his arms around my body to hold me close to him, before pushing me back onto the bed and joining me there. Andrew felt warm, safe. Still my Andrew. I shuffled up to get as close to him as possible. Suddenly, he leaped back, as if stung.

‘What’s the matter?’ I asked.

He looked from my face to my throat and back again, then smiled. ‘Your cross.’ He gestured. ‘It’s dug into me. Could you take it off?’

‘But I always wear it. Why do I have to—’

‘Come on, Jayna. Please take it off.’

Frowning, I turned my back on him. ‘Undo it for me it, then?’

‘No can do. Sorry,’ he said lightly. I turned my head to look at him. Andrew wriggled his fingers at me. ‘I’m all thumbs. I wouldn’t be able to manage the clasp.’

Puzzled by his refusal, I unclasped the necklace myself. Then a strange, horrific idea entered my head. So horrific I almost laughed out loud. It was preposterous. I dangled my silver cross on its silver necklace and held it out towards him. He immediately drew back. Suddenly it wasn’t so funny any more.

‘That’s not clever, Jayna. You startled me.’ He sat forward to resume his former position, his eyes never leaving the cross in my hand. Slowly, I coiled my fingers around it. It felt warm from contact with my skin and comforting. I squeezed it until it dug into my palm, hurting, then carefully I placed the necklace in the top drawer of my bedside table. I stared down at the now-closed drawer, afraid. Sad. The cross had been a birthday present from my dad, but I’d only started wearing it a couple of years ago. I didn’t see myself as particularly religious – not religious with a capital R – but I did believe in love over hate and right over wrong. So what was I doing? Choosing love over what was right? When had they stopped being one and the same thing?

Andrew placed a hand under my chin, turning me round to face him. He was still smiling. I wished he wouldn’t.

‘Promise me something?’ I whispered.

‘Anything.’

‘Promise me that you won’t leave until I wake up,’ I said. ‘Promise me you won’t leave me alone in this house.’

‘There’s something I need to do. It shouldn’t take too long, though.’

‘Can’t it wait? I don’t want to be left to go through this alone, Andrew. Not even for a minute. Promise me.’

‘OK, I promise. I won’t go any further than your garden.’

He smiled again. Now he looked almost the same as before we went on holiday – before any of this had happened. Almost. Looking at him I tried to believe that what I was about to do was something strange and weird and wonderful. An adventure. Here I was with the chance to be with Andrew for ever. I was going to be immortal. So many other people would give up everything for an opportunity like this. All I had to do was reach out and take it. And still I hesitated. This was something to ensure that Andrew and I were together. For ever . . .

Isn’t that what I wanted?

He kissed the side of my neck, sending a shiver of excitement and something else racing through my body. I held on tightly to his warm, warm hands. He kissed my neck again.

‘You’re salty.’

I could hear the pleasure in his voice. My blood roared in my ears like a storm-swept sea. For ever . . . as a . . . blood drinker. Andrew shouldn’t be kissing me. Not when what we were about to do was so . . . so wrong.

What would I be? What would I become? Time. I needed more time.

Do it . . .

Don’t do it . . .

Do it . . .

‘No . . . No!’ I screamed, and pulled away violently. I fought to catch my breath. Why couldn’t I breathe? ‘I’m sorry . . . I can’t!’ I ran for the landing.

I’d barely taken two steps before Andrew was there facing me, his back against my now closed bedroom door. Stunned, I stared at him. A moment ago he’d been sitting on my bed.

‘How . . .?’ I shut up. Then I tried again. ‘Andrew, I can’t do this. Please understand. You’re going too fast. I’m frightened.’

‘Trust me.’ Andrew smiled, but his eyes . . . his eyes didn’t smile, didn’t blink. They stared at me. Only it was more than just staring. His eyes were changing colour, turning a vivid blood-red as he saw not just me or through me, but into me. Into my very soul. ‘Trust me.’ His voice was so gentle, so soft. He reached out his hand towards me, slowly. Oh, so slowly. ‘Trust me.’

Why did he keep saying that? Over and over. And staring?

Don’t . . .

My hand was in his and my body was next to his as he hugged me to him, and I had no idea how I got there. I wasn’t even aware that I’d moved from the middle of the room.

‘Andrew . . .’ A plea played in my head but I couldn’t get the words out. He was so seductive. It was so hard to say no . . . so hard to remember who I was, what I wanted other than him . . . His eyes burned into me, seeing everything. Eyes like . . . like—

Please . . . more time . . . one more day . . . please . . . Why couldn’t I get the words out?

‘Jayna, trust me.’ Andrew’s voice was no more than a sigh. A breath of the faintest, warmest air caressed my ear, my throat. My eyes were closing. I fought against it.

Do it . . .

Don’t do it . . .

It’s wrong . . .

It’ll be all right . . .

Andrew is right . . .

Andrew is all wrong . . .

Don’t . . .

‘Trust me . . .’ Andrew whispered against my ear.

And then he bit me.

23

IT HURT. IT hurt like hell. My neck was on fire. And that fire spread over my face and down my body. Along with the frantic hammering of my heart, I could hear him gulping. Gulping my blood. The sound made my stomach churn. It was gross. This whole thing was so messed up. And the burning in my neck was getting hotter. Fiery-hot. At that moment I tried to pull away, but his hands were vices holding mine captive. I closed my eyes against the sight and the sound and the smell of my blood.

Don’t do it . . .

This is a huge mistake . . .

I loved Andrew but this wasn’t right. I tried to speak and my tongue felt about fifty times its normal size and so dry. I tried to take a stronger hold of his hands in mine but I didn’t seem to be able to move. Mum and Teegan and Pete and Diane . . . everyone I knew seemed to drift into my head to stand before me. My eyelids fluttered open and the pounding of my heart began to subside – I could hardly hear it now. I was so tired, so sleepy, and it didn’t hurt so much any more. But I could still hear him drinking. Drinking my blood. Slurping, gulping sounds. But now they too were far away. Outside of me.

My head was so heavy. My eyelids closed and I let my head nod forward. I’d never felt so weary. Bone and blood weary. I was being carried, then gently lowered onto the bed. It was a struggle to open my eyes again and I only just managed it. Just in time to see Andrew’s flushed red face smiling down at me. A tiny trickle of blood escaped from the corner of his mouth and began to dribble down towards his chin. His tongue snaked out after it and licked it up.

My blood . . .

A blood drinker like him . . .

Not me . . .

His lips were the reddest I had ever seen them. I fought to keep my eyes open.

Something was wrong. I was slipping away from my body. That’s the only way I can describe it. It wasn’t like daydreaming or even sleeping, it was deeper than that. I couldn’t feel any part of my body, couldn’t even feel my heartbeat now. All I was aware of was a faint throbbing in my neck. I was slipping away. I tried to speak, to say Andrew’s name, but I couldn’t.

I realized I was dying.

‘Don’t worry, Jayna, I’m here.’ Andrew’s voice only just reached me, as though I was in a swimming pool with my head underwater and he was calling to me. ‘Don’t close your eyes. Not yet.’

Past the quivering of my eyelids I saw him bite deeply into his own wrist. Immediately he put it over my mouth. You must be joking, I thought with disgust. The thought had me fighting back to consciousness. It was the strongest thought I’d had since he’d bitten me.

No way . . .

Not me . . .

I turned my head away, but not far enough.

‘You must,’ he said urgently. ‘You won’t survive if you don’t.’ He turned my head and placed his wrist against my lips. I gagged as the hot, rust-flavoured liquid ran across my tongue and down my throat, but I couldn’t move away. My stomach started to burn.

‘Drink, Jayna,’ he ordered. ‘You need to take in enough to change. To live again.’

If I’d had the choice, if I could have told him, I would have chosen to die rather than drink his blood. As it continued to fill my mouth I wanted to curl up and hide where no one would ever find me. I tried not to swallow, tried to cough out the sour liquid, but he pinched my nostrils together so I had to gulp to clear my mouth . . . so I could breathe. And still Andrew held his wrist over my mouth.

‘This is how Julius kept me alive in Fipoli.’ His voice was far, far away. I could only just hear it. ‘I would’ve died otherwise . . . but you and I, Jayna, we’ll have each other. We’ll always be together now. I love you so much . . . so much . . .’

I didn’t hear any more. My eyelids were made of lead and I couldn’t have opened my eyes now, even if I’d wanted to – and I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to see anything, least of all Andrew’s face. My stomach cramped up and I felt foul. I was foul, disgusting. I wanted to cry, to howl.

I wanted to die.

Once again Andrew held my hands in his, saying something, and although I could hear the sounds I couldn’t make out the words. The sounds grew more distant. My body grew more and more heavy until I thought I must surely sink through the mattress. I pushed at Andrew’s hands – at least, I think I did.

Then I gave in and allowed myself to sink into slumber.

24

WAKING UP WAS like rushing upwards through fathoms of water to surface and gasp for air. I awoke icy cold, but bathed in sweat. A whole dance troupe were street dancing in my head.

And I was hungry. Ravenously, achingly hungry. My stomach felt as if it was about to collapse in on itself. I struggled to sit up, looking around the darkened room. Something was different. With a start of half-fear, half-excitement I realized what it was. I could see – perfectly.

The curtains were drawn and I instinctively knew it was late at night, but even with the lights off I could see. The colours of my room were so vivid. They didn’t look the same as when viewed by daylight, but they were colours nonetheless – night colours, slightly muted but somehow with a life of their own. Each colour in my room seemed to hum at me, the lurid pink of the wallpaper behind my posters, my pale yellow bottle of body lotion on the dressing table, even the grey hue of my carpet was discernible. I continued to scan the room. I could read Van Gogh’s signature at the bottom of my poster of his sunflowers. I could even read the words on the bottle of baby lotion, and I could see . . .

‘Andrew . . .?’

He was sitting on my bedroom chair next to the dressing table, watching me.

‘Hello, Jayna.’ His voice was strange, sort of raspy. And joyful. Uncertainly, I watched him. He smiled at me, his eyes dark and glittering.

My mind was a jumble of images and voices that I was having trouble straightening out. Andrew was looking at me in a really weird way.

‘How long have I been asleep?’ I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of anything any more. The line between what was real and what was unreal had faded into non-existence.

‘Over twenty-four hours.’

‘A whole day!’ I was stunned. ‘I can’t have been out for a whole day.’

‘You were. I was here the entire time, watching over you,’ said Andrew.

‘It didn’t take you that long to wake up,’ I said, confused.

‘D’you remember the drinks Julius gave us in Fipoli?’

‘Yeah, some sort of wine cocktail.’

‘It wasn’t wine. Well, not all wine. His blood was mixed in it as well. It meant that I was over the effects of the change a lot faster than you as I had his blood in my system to begin with.’

Oh. My. God! My drink had had Julius’s blood in it . . .? It took a moment or two for my stomach to stop rocking.

‘Suppose he has hepatitis or something equally infectious?’ I said, scandalized.

‘Vampires can’t carry or catch human diseases,’ said Andrew, who was being remarkably sanguine about the whole gross idea.

‘Why would he give us a drink mixed with his blood if he was going to kill us?’ I frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘It’s his way of marking his victims, playing with them like a cat plays with a mouse,’ Andrew replied, contempt evident in his voice. ‘He could then choose to kill them or not kill them, turn them or not turn them. And with his blood in them, they’d have no choice but to succumb to his wishes. The vampiric equivalent of Rohypnol.’

Bastard! Julius had done that to us, drugged Andrew and me so he could use us as and when he wanted. What did he have planned for me once he’d killed Andrew? It made me shudder to think about it. I still didn’t know what I’d said to make him change his mind, but thank God something I’d said had had an effect.

I concentrated on my body, my limbs, my torso, my head. Nothing hurt, nothing ached. In fact, apart from my rumbling stomach, I felt alert, buzzy . . . alive.

‘So you bit me, then?’ I struggled to remember just what had happened before I’d passed out.

Andrew didn’t reply; he just kept watching me. I could see him so clearly, as if the sun were parked just outside my bedroom window. All at once I felt uneasy. Seeing so well in the dark wasn’t natural. It wasn’t ordinary. At that moment I needed ordinary. I stretched out my hand towards the lamp on my bedside table. Lamplight was ordinary. The sudden light didn’t even make me blink.

My memory came limping back now. ‘My God – you stopped me from leaving . . .’

‘No, I didn’t,’ Andrew denied. ‘I asked you to trust me. And you did.’

Trust me . . . That memory filled my head now. Maybe I’d got the rest wrong? If only my head would clear, but I felt so peculiar. I forced myself to concentrate.

My name is Jayna Zoe Lucas and I’m seventeen years old.

At least my brain still worked. I was a little light-headed, and my hunger was getting worse, but apart from that I was just the same, if not better.

‘It worked, didn’t it?’ I whispered.

Andrew nodded, the smile broadening on his face. I watched him, waiting for the final pieces of the jigsaw to fall into place in my head. It was as if every part of my body were waiting, but I didn’t know for what.

‘I can see in the dark . . . is that part of it?’

He nodded again.

‘Apart from that, I don’t feel much different.’

‘You will.’

Was it a threat or a promise? Then more of what happened came back to me. Without warning, Andrew sprang out of his chair and came over to me. He sat down on the bed, taking my cold hands in his. The memory limp turned into a sprint and I closed my eyes and once again saw Andrew biting into his wrist and holding it over my mouth. I remembered the churning disgust I’d felt as his blood flowed over my tongue. Deep within me, a knot of dread began to unravel and I started to tremble. I pulled my hands out of his and wrapped them around my waist. The trembling was getting worse, deep inside me but spreading outwards like ripples in a pond.

‘You made me drink . . .’ I whispered. I stretched out my fingers until my bones cracked. Even now my stomach turned over at the memory.

‘I had to. It wouldn’t have worked otherwise. I wasn’t even sure how much to drink from you without killing you, like—I had to try and remember all I could of what happened to me and gauge it that way.’

‘You . . . you never told me that.’

‘You wouldn’t have let me do it otherwise. Besides, I would never let anything happen to you. You’re mine.’

The last time Andrew had said that was the first time we’d made love. So much had changed between then and now. What we had then was sunlight and love and something special. What we had now felt . . . sordid. I shut my eyes tight. More details of what had happened filled my head and I covered my face with my hands. My head was about to split open.

‘Jayna, don’t you see? Now we’ll always be together. For ever. If you were me, wouldn’t you have wanted the same thing?’

I froze. I already knew the answer to his question, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. I spread out my fingers and stretched and stretched them.

‘Besides, it’s wonderful!’ Andrew beamed at me, pure delight the likes of which I’d never seen before radiating from his entire body. ‘Can’t you feel how powerful you are? We’ve both been reborn as something beyond our wildest dreams. Can’t you feel it?’

A flare of anger shot through me at his attitude, but it faded just as quickly. Andrew loved me. I loved him. We could be together now. We were the same and that was all that mattered. Wasn’t it . . .?

‘I thought from all those vampire horror films I’ve seen that all you had to do was . . . bite me?’

He grinned. ‘It’s not that simple. It takes the blood of a vampire to make a vampire.’

I shuddered. ‘I still can’t get used to that word.’

‘The word doesn’t matter. You can call yourself what you like. It’s what you are that counts. And isn’t it terrific? Exciting? It was worth it, wasn’t it? You’re one of us now . . .’

‘Us? Who are you talking about?’

‘Us. Julius and me and all the others out there like this. There are bound to be more.’

‘Julius made more?’

‘Only a few more.’ Andrew shrugged. ‘At least, that’s what he told me. He warned me what to expect, how to survive. He thought he owed me that much. He liked you, you know. He liked both of us. That’s why he didn’t kill us, even though he could have. Instead, he brought me back to life.’

Kill us . . .? How many had he killed, then? And he’d made more like himself, like Andrew . . . How many others had those ‘few more’ created?

No . . . Don’t think about it. Julius was someone else’s problem.

‘Back to life? You said something about that when you . . . when you gave me your blood.’ I lowered my head.

‘So you do remember.’

‘Not all of it.’ The shaking was over, except for my stomach. I shivered. I was beginning to feel icy cold all over and dizzy. ‘I don’t feel too well.’

‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’ Andrew smiled at me. ‘It’s something that will make you feel good. Follow me.’

‘I hope it’s a hot bath.’

‘It’s something much better.’

I got out of bed and, after quickly getting dressed in an old pink shirt and jeans, followed him downstairs, through the kitchen and into the back garden. The only light came from the moon, which kept disappearing behind dark clouds. The air smelled fresh and warm, the wind stroking my face. I breathed deeply, which only made me feel worse. I could hear strange sounds, like being in an electrical shop and hearing the noise of twenty televisions on different channels all at once. I could hear what sounded like Mr Travis from four doors down, arguing with his wife about the cost of their dinner. I heard canned laughter coming from someone’s TV, and I heard what I was sure was Mrs Tout softly weeping. The tears of loneliness. I shook my head, trying to shake all sounds out of it.

‘You get used to that.’ Andrew smiled. ‘Just tune out. Don’t concentrate on any sounds that you don’t want. The rest will soon fade.’

I tried to concentrate on not concentrating. To my surprise it worked, sort of. I could still hear noises, but the sensation was like a distant external buzzing rather than something inside my head.

‘Why’re we out here?’

Andrew took my hand and led me towards the bottom of the garden. The dry grass crunched under my feet and I didn’t dare glance down, dreading to think what I was stepping on. All those creepy-crawlies that only emerged at night. Ugh! All at once, the garden began to rock and sway and I put my hand to my temple. My stomach pains were getting worse.

‘Andrew, something is wrong. My head is spinning. And I feel sick.’

‘I know. That’s how I felt in Julius’s house when I woke up.’

‘Will it pass?’

‘Soon. Very soon.’ We’d reached the bottom of the garden now. The branches of our neighbour’s horse chestnut tree hung down over one half of our two-metre-high back fence.

‘Stay here.’

Then, as I watched, Andrew vaulted over it from a standing start as if it were no more than a twig on the ground. I stared after him, unable to believe my eyes.

But why was I so surprised? Hadn’t Andrew lifted Pete off the ground as though he were a pillow? Andrew was super-strong and super-fast and he could hear a pin drop from two streets away.

Was I the same? Could I be the same? Did it just take practice or was there more to it than that? I tried to focus on Mrs Tout, to see if she was still weeping. That sound had stopped, but all the other noises came back, more cacophonous than before. I tried to separate them, to focus on just one, but I couldn’t. All I was doing was making my head ache. I tuned out all the noises again. I obviously still had a lot to learn.

Something was wrong. I felt so peculiar, my mind reeling now, my body freezing. I tried raising my hand to my head but it dropped back to my side. I didn’t even have the energy to do that. Oh God! I was about to collapse.

‘Here we are!’ Andrew appeared from nowhere to stand before me. In his hand he held Juniper, the grey and white rabbit that belonged to Mr and Mrs Rossetti’s son, Matthew.

‘Why’ve you got Juniper? You’d better put him back before Matthew misses him.’ I shook my head again to clear it since my words seemed to be uncertain and slurred. The moonlight vanished as the moon hid and the only lights now came from the back windows of the surrounding houses. By rights I shouldn’t have been able to see anything. Yet I could still see perfectly clearly.

‘Andrew . . .?’

‘You have to feed, Jayna,’ he said softly. ‘If you don’t drink, you’ll die.’

I looked from Andrew to Juniper, and back again. ‘You must be joking. I’m not—Not Juniper! Put him back.’

Slowly Andrew shook his head. ‘You must drink, Jayna.’

‘Never!’

I turned to make for the house, but my legs gave way under me. I fell to my knees. I struggled to stand up again but couldn’t. Andrew knelt down before me, Juniper still in his hands. Then he . . . he bit into Juniper’s neck and held the rabbit out to me in both hands. Instantly the smell of blood assailed my nostrils, pushing all my senses into high alert. My mouth filled with saliva. Closing my eyes, I ran my tongue over my teeth. They were all far longer than a few seconds ago – and razor-sharp. My whole face was changing. I gasped. Andrew had warned me that it would happen, but it was still a shock. Stunned, I opened my eyes to look at Andrew, but his face was morphing into something inhuman. Something monstrous. His jaw had extended and all his teeth were longer and needle-sharp at their tips. His green eyes were now a vivid blood-red. Instinctively I knew that my face mirrored his, the same colour eyes, the same teeth, the same monstrous blood lust. And what happened next . . .

Andrew made me drink.

I was too weak at first to push his hands away. But the first sip stopped my head from reeling, took away the dizzy feeling and made the cramps in my stomach disappear. And it tasted . . . tasted so warm, so sweet as it flowed down my throat.

I took the rabbit from Andrew’s hands.

He smiled and nodded at me, his expression triumphant. I needed no further urging. To my shame and my horror and my disgust, I drank.

25

WHEN I’D FINISHED, I looked down at the ground. Andrew fed after me, but I couldn’t look – the slurping and gulping sounds were bad enough. When he’d finished, Andrew tossed poor Juniper’s body away from him like so much trash. His warm hands cupped my face, so I had to look at him. His face was back to normal and he looked exultant. I wished it was contagious.

‘How are you feeling now? Less dizzy? Stronger?’ he asked.

I nodded. ‘Yeah, I’m OK now.’ As long as I didn’t have to look in a mirror to fully take in what I’d done, what I’d become.

He helped me to my feet and as we walked back into the house, I asked something that was bothering me, choking me.

‘How often must we . . .?’

‘Every day.’

‘Isn’t there some other way?’

Andrew shook his head, and moved to stand in front of me. ‘You can eat and drink what you like, but it won’t make any difference. Only blood makes a difference.’

‘What did you feed on when I was . . . unconscious?’

‘Anything I could find in your garden. I promised I wouldn’t leave you and I didn’t. I’ll never leave you, Jayna.’

‘I don’t know if I can do this . . .’ I admitted.

‘Shh!’ Andrew kissed me. ‘You’ll get used to it. It’ll be like breathing, like eating every day to survive. Just something you have to do.’

‘But it shouldn’t be like that. It shouldn’t be something you get used to.’

‘We have no choice.’

There was nothing I could say to that. We were both silent for several moments. I lowered my head. Sadness, quiet and still, wrapped around me like a plush velvet cloak.

‘What day is it?’

‘Tuesday. Why?’

‘Mum and Teegan are coming home on Saturday. That’s something at least.’ I sighed. ‘I miss them. I’ll meet them at the train station on Saturday morning and just hope that between now and then I can come up with some way to explain all this.’

‘You can’t.’

‘Pardon?’

‘You’ll have to wait until Saturday night to see them. You and I must sleep during the day. It’ll take decades before sunlight won’t kill us.’

I stared at him until my eyes hurt. ‘You mean we have to sleep in a coffin filled with earth and—’

Andrew creased up. ‘Of course not. We just have to sleep somewhere where daylight can’t get to us. Then we wake up when the sun goes down.’

‘I won’t see the sun again?’ I said, aghast. ‘Not for decades? You don’t mean it.’ What else had Andrew not told me about this new life?

Andrew shrugged. ‘I thought you’d realized.’

I closed my eyes. ‘I’ll not see the sun again . . .’

‘We have other things that ordinary people don’t have to make up for it.’

Other things . . . but not daylight and sunshine and blue skies. I couldn’t take it in. What would life be like without daylight? I stretched out my fingers.

‘Where were you sleeping before all this? At your house? How have you made sure that daylight doesn’t get to you?’

‘I’ve been sleeping in the attic at home, temporarily. I thought you and I could stay here in your room until your mum and sister get back, and in the meantime we can start looking for something more permanent.’

‘You mean you want us to live together?’ I asked, surprised.

‘It would make sense. We could protect each other that way. And we’d be together all the time. I’d love that. Wouldn’t you?’

A month ago, when it would have been just an impossible, out-of-reach fantasy, something I would hope for in the future, then yes. But now . . .?

‘Yeah, I guess . . . But if we don’t find somewhere permanent before Mum and Teegan get home, where will we stay? In your attic?’

Andrew nodded.

‘Is it safe?’

‘Yeah, just as long as a pipe doesn’t burst, and that’s not likely in autumn. That’s the only reason my dad ever goes up there.’

‘What about Morgan? And your mum?’

‘Mum in the attic? Do me a favour! And why would Morgan go up there?’ said Andrew. ‘We could stay there for a while, until we found somewhere safe. We’d just have to be careful not to make any noise.’

I considered the proposition. It didn’t appeal. How could I possibly live under the same roof as Morgan? ‘How do we get up there past your family?’ I asked.

‘We jump up onto the conservatory roof, then up onto the part of the roof over the back bedroom and then walk up the slates to the skylight,’ Andrew said, as if he were giving instructions for getting to the end of the road.

‘Just how do we jump more than three metres? Turn into bats?’

‘Don’t be sarky. We bend our knees and jump. You’d be surprised at what we can do once we’ve fed. I’ve done it already.’

‘You have?’ I was surprised.

‘Of course, with plenty of room to spare. And as you’re always telling me, anything a mere man can do a woman can do better!’ Andrew smiled. I couldn’t smile back.

Silence.

‘Andrew, I’m scared.’

He reached out for me and held me till there wasn’t a millimetre of space between us. His arms felt like steel as he held me, but at that moment it was just what I needed. My arms around his waist gripped him just as tightly.

‘We’ll be all right. We have each other now,’ he murmured.

I nodded slowly. ‘What was it like when it was just you?’

‘Let’s just say I wouldn’t want to go through that again,’ he said sombrely. ‘It was the worst time of my life.’

‘And that’s why you wanted me to join you? For company?’

‘That reason was way down on my list,’ Andrew replied with a frown. ‘Jayna, I want you with me. To share all this power. We’re strong, invincible. Can’t you feel it?’

‘Invincible? Daylight will kill us. Not feeding will kill us. We can’t go near garlic. A stake through the heart—’

‘Don’t be silly, Jayna. You’ve been watching too many Dracula films.’

‘I’m newer at this than you are, remember? Tell me, what will kill us?’

Moments passed before he answered, ‘Daylight, not feeding, fire and silver burn us, water can drown us, being beheaded doesn’t do us much good – but the same applies to everyone else as well! We’re not that much changed. We can’t turn into bats or wolves or anything stupid like that. It’s just that all our senses are heightened, more acute. That’s what makes us stronger.’

But at what price? I sighed. ‘I still don’t understand what I am, all I am.’

Andrew got to his feet and pulled me up after him. ‘Don’t worry. Once you’ve got more used to it, you’ll love it.’

‘Do you?’

He looked straight at me, but didn’t answer.

26

‘SO WHAT DO we do now that we’ve fed? Drift into some unsuspecting virgin’s bedroom and make our presence felt? Howl at the moon? No, that’s were-wolves. How about if we—’

‘How about if we go upstairs?’ Andrew interrupted.

All at once I became very still. Seconds ticked by. ‘Why?’ Stupid question, but I still asked it.

‘We have to make sure that your room is really secure from daylight.’

‘Oh,’ I said, relieved. ‘How do we do that?’

‘Newspaper over the windows stuck with sticky tape, then brown parcel paper over that ought to do it. I stuck the curtains down when you were unconscious, but we need something more secure. Have you got any parcel paper in the house?’

‘Yes, in the kitchen drawer, but hang on. If I put newspaper over my windows, Mrs Tout will be over here in about two seconds flat.’

‘Tell her you’re repainting your window frames or something.’

I sighed again. ‘All these lies – and it’s going to get worse, isn’t it? We have to hide what we are and what we do. Hide behind a mass of lies.’

‘It’s the only way. I don’t like it any more than you do.’

Looking at Andrew, I wondered. Then I hated myself for allowing the merest scintilla of doubt to enter my head. It’s just that Andrew seemed to have adjusted to what we were so much more easily than I had. Then I reminded myself that he had had longer to get used to the idea. Is that all it would require – a little time and a few dead animals before I too not only became used to what I was, but positively relished it? Was that truly what I wanted?

‘I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.’ The thoughts were spoken out loud before I could stop them spilling from my mouth.

‘Yes you will. I’ll help you get used to it.’ Andrew was confident. ‘Soon you’ll begin to see our lives before Julius for what they really were – half lives. We were living with blinkers on, but not any more.’

I nodded, hoping against hope that he would be proven right.

Half an hour later, my window was completely covered. There was no way a shaft of even the thinnest daylight could creep into my room. Andrew stood back, satisfied with what we’d done. It saddened me. It was like shutting out the rest of the world, cutting most of our remaining ties with it.

Andrew came and stood behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, kissing the back of my ear and nibbling on my earlobe. ‘I can think of something else we can do now we’re alone,’ he whispered.

I turned in his arms to face him, but before I could say a word, Andrew’s lips were on mine, crushing them. I drew back to catch my breath, but found myself in Andrew’s arms being carried over to the bed. He dropped me onto it, to join me less than a second later. His hands were tearing at my clothes, popping the buttons on my shirt and pulling down my trousers without unbuttoning and unzipping them first. And his irises were slowly but surely turning blood-red.

‘Andrew, what the hell—’ I tried moving away but he was intent on stripping me naked. I tried pushing his hands off me, but that didn’t work either. I pulled myself upright and drawing back my hand, I slapped his face just as hard as I could. His head snapped back.

That had worked.

Andrew sat up, the imprint of my hand glowing red on his cheek. He blinked for a couple of seconds, like he was seeing me properly for the first time since he’d dumped me on the bed. And his irises were slowly returning to their normal colour instead of the blood-red they’d been before.

‘What d’you think you’re doing?’ I hissed at him.

‘I want you.’ Andrew frowned.

‘Let’s get something straight,’ I said, moving to the other side of the bed, pulling my shirt around me and holding it in place with my hands as most of the buttons were now scattered around the bed. ‘I may be the same as you now, I may be a . . . a vampire, but that doesn’t make me a whore. So don’t you dare treat me like one.’

‘That’s not what I was doing.’ His frown deepened.

‘No? Check out my shirt, then,’ I raged. ‘What the hell has got into you? In Fipoli you were kind and considerate and just the opposite of what you are now.’ How could he treat me like that? The lump in my throat was making it hard to breathe.

‘I . . . I’m sorry.’ Andrew’s eyes were completely back to normal. ‘I don’t know what happened . . . Oh God, I’m so sorry, Jayna.’

Now that the adrenalin was beginning to dissipate in my body, I felt sick and tearful. One touch, one more word, and I’d lose it completely. I felt rather than saw Andrew get off his side of the bed to walk around to where I was sitting. He sat down next to me and tried to hug me. I immediately pulled away from him.

‘Don’t touch me,’ I ordered, still unable to look at him.

‘Jayna, I’m really sorry. I promise, it’ll never happen again,’ he said unhappily.

I risked a glance at him. His lips were turned down, his eyes shone with remorse. My Andrew was back. The cold-eyed stranger who’d frightened me was nowhere to be seen.

‘What was that all about?’ I whispered.

‘I . . . I lost who we were . . . are, just for a moment,’ said Andrew. The confusion in his voice indicated he was still trying to figure out what had happened for himself. ‘I’m sorry. Forgive me?’

After a moment, I nodded. I needed him. Andrew opened his arms, I moved closer and wrapped my arms round his neck. His arms stole round my waist. And this was what I wanted, like our first day in Fipoli, which had been so perfect – until we’d met Julius.

‘Let me make love to you,’ Andrew whispered. ‘I’ll make it good, for both of us.’

‘Andrew, are you kidding? I’m not in the mood now.’

He sat back, his expression guarded. ‘Why not?’

‘Well, your caveman impersonation didn’t help. And a lot has happened today, Andy. I can’t just pretend everything is the same as it was before. I need time.’

‘For once in your life, can’t you just do something and sod the consequences?’ he snapped.

‘I thought I’d just done that,’ I shot back.

Silence.

‘Sorry,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll stop pushing. It’s just that . . . that I do love you, Jayna.’

‘I know. I know.’

But for the first time I found myself wondering if love was really enough. Would what we felt for each other really be strong enough, deep enough, to make this work? I didn’t know – and that scared me.

‘Andrew, are you sure you want us to live together?’

‘We can’t afford to live apart.’

‘I guess not.’

Living with my boyfriend. Sleeping with my boyfriend. I was only seventeen, for goodness’ sake. Far too young to feel this old. Far too old to feel this helpless, this out of control.

‘Where shall we live? It’s not like we can go flat-hunting or get a mortgage or anything, is it?’

‘We’ll find something.’ Andrew shrugged. ‘Maybe a house that’s been abandoned or isn’t being used. There are plenty of decent empty places in London.’

‘But the council and private landlords lock them up. They even brick up the doors and windows.’

‘So much the better. We can open a top-floor window to get in and out by that means and the other bricked-up doors and windows will keep everything and everyone else out,’ said Andrew.

‘You make it all sound so simple.’

‘It is. You’re the one who says that things are only difficult if that’s the way you make them.’

I stared into space. I’d got that saying from my dad, and my face set into the usual unhappy frown that appeared whenever I thought of Dad. When he’d found out just how ill he was, he left us. Disappeared. Some stupid reason written in a letter. Justifications delivered by phone a few weeks later. Something about not wanting to be a burden to us, not wanting us to watch him die.

How I wish he hadn’t done it. All those months lost. Months when we could have been together, and weren’t. Dad had come back, eventually, after Mum tracked him down, but we’d only had two months, one week and nine hours together after that. I was only eleven years old, and I hadn’t understood at all. For years after his death I’d been angry with him for taking what I considered the coward’s way out. It’d taken me too long to realize he’d done what he considered the brave thing at an incredibly high cost to himself, and that he really had loved us. Very much.

But still it hurt.

‘Jayna, it’s OK.’ Andrew smiled – a smile that said he understood. I smiled back gratefully. The Andrew I’d fallen in love with was still in there, somewhere. And I hadn’t changed. Not the real me. This new thing was something I could deal with. Given time, I could handle it, control it. We both could. It didn’t have to make that much difference. Not to the real us.

‘We will make this work, won’t we, Andrew?’ I said fiercely.

‘Of course we will. We can do anything. Don’t you know that?’

I laughed – a strange, almost forgotten sound.

‘We’ll start looking for a place from tomorrow, and we’ll find one,’ said Andrew.

‘Which leaves another big question,’ I pointed out. ‘What’re we going to tell our parents?’

‘Yeah, I know. I was thinking about that too,’ he said sombrely.

‘They’re bound to want to see our new house, wherever it is.’

‘They can’t see it if we don’t give them the address.’

I sighed again, long and hard. Mum would be so hurt. How could I even begin to explain? Sorry, Mum, I can’t live with you any more. But don’t ask me where I’m going. I can’t tell you. I could just see her face. A storm was going to erupt over that one.

‘And what do we do for money?’ I asked.

‘I’ve got some saved.’

‘So have I, but it won’t last for ever. We move one problem out of the way, only to be blocked by two more.’

‘We’ll manage. We just take it one day at a time.’

‘That’s not my style. You’re the “go with the flow” person. I like to plan my whole year in advance.’

‘Well, you can’t do that any more. They say couples who are close start to look and act like each other the longer they stay together. Consider this the beginning of that process,’ Andrew teased.

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t in a teasing mood. We sat in silence for a while.

‘Andrew . . . hold me,’ I whispered at last. ‘Hold me tight.’

We lay down on top of the bed and cuddled up, holding each other as if to let go for even a moment would be to let go for ever.

27

OVER THE NEXT few days, I became slowly aware of how much my body was changing. Each evening as the sun set, Andrew and I woke up, had a shower, and then went out hunting. But Andrew began to get on my nerves by announcing each time before we left, ‘I feel the need, the need to feed!’

He thought it was dead funny.

I could take very little real food. I’d tried to go without blood, but had been reduced to a wreck by the excruciating pain racking my body as a result. I didn’t try again. And by the third night, I had stopped feeling disgusted with myself. It hadn’t taken very long.

But not just that; after each feed I felt weird – strong and alert and powerful. It was as if there was nothing in the world I couldn’t do. I heard conversations that were taking place streets away. I ran faster, jumped higher, knew I was tougher. It felt so strange, like growing away, apart, from everyone else. I was different. We were different. It felt like being a superhero. Invincible. And the feeling was sneakily, dangerously seductive.

Our second night together Andrew and I made love. Except that when we came together, it wasn’t like it’d been before. It was still passionate, but the tenderness had been replaced by something else, something more fierce, more primal – and I missed the gentleness. Andrew kept saying that we now had so much, but I would have swapped it all for one day of how things used to be.

Not Andrew, though. With each passing hour, he grew more and more exultant, more contemptuous of what we had been before.

I wondered where it would end.

28

‘TEEGAN, EITHER EAT it or leave it but don’t play around with it.’

I smiled at Mum’s words. I was at the end of our street, my whole body focused on our house. Mum and Teegan had finally come home and I couldn’t wait to see them. I’d missed Mum so much – I’d even missed my scabby sister! I started to walk faster. After one night in Andrew’s attic, already I longed for a proper bed with proper cotton sheets instead of a sleeping bag in a dusty, musty attic. We hadn’t found a permanent place to stay yet. And the prospect of living indefinitely in the Harrison house filled me with dread. OK, they didn’t know that Andrew and I were there – yet – but surely it was only a matter of time until they discovered our secret? We’d tried house-hunting for a suitable location, but so far, no luck.

And as for the rest of our existence . . . I placed a hot hand to my even hotter cheeks. On leaving Andrew’s attic tonight, we’d both gone to a nearby waste ground and fed on a feral cat. No more pets, I’d insisted.

‘So now we can both feel better about what we have to do, because really we’re helping out the RSPCA!’ Andrew scoffed, making me laugh reluctantly.

I’d wanted to feed before seeing Mum. My skin had been more ashen-grey than brown before I fed, as if I’d soaked in the bath for a long time and not applied moisturiser to my skin afterwards. I knew Mum would pick up on something like that in a second.

‘Mum, what time is Jayna coming home?’ I heard Teegan ask. I walked faster still.

‘Don’t know, love. All her note said was that she’d see us sometime this evening.’

Now I could see that the downstairs lights were on. They looked so welcoming.

‘Where is she now?’ asked Teegan.

I opened our gate and headed towards the front door.

‘She didn’t say,’ Mum replied.

I opened the door with my key. ‘Mum, Teegan, I’m home.’

Mum came out of the living room into the hall. I ran to her and hugged her, careful not to squeeze too tightly. Surprised at my enthusiasm, she hugged me back.

‘I missed you, Mum.’ I turned and looked at my sister. ‘And you, ratbag!’

‘Ratbag yourself!’ Teegan wrinkled up her nose.

I walked over to Teegan and gave her a hug as well. I had more than enough hugs to go round. Amazing what a little absence could do. ‘So how was the Lake District? I want to hear all about it.’ One arm linked with Mum’s, I put the other over Teegan’s shoulder as we all went back into the living room. They thought I didn’t catch the look that passed between them, but I did.

‘It was OK. It would’ve been better if you’d been with us, though,’ said my sister.

‘Don’t be nice to me, Teegan – I’m not used to it.’ I grinned at her.

We all sat down around the table. Teegan and Mum were in the middle of eating chicken Kiev, peas and baked potatoes for dinner.

‘I didn’t know what time you’d be back but I made plenty,’ said Mum. ‘Help yourself. It’s in the oven.’

I stared at the chicken on their plates and my insides felt as though they were being whisked. If I didn’t move fast, I’d be violently sick all over the place.

‘You didn’t have to do that. I’m meeting Andrew in the Burger Bar later,’ I mumbled.

‘Oh, I see.’ Mum spoke quietly.

Opening my mouth had been a mistake. The smell of the garlic in the chicken Kiev filled my mouth and my nose and my eyes, making them water. I scrambled to my feet and went to sit in one of the armchairs, furthest away from the smell. When I looked up, Mum was frowning at me.

‘Jayna . . .’

‘So, tell me about the Lake District,’ I said, changing the subject quickly.

Teegan filled the gap and immediately started wittering. I could have kissed her!

We spent the next hour talking about their holiday. They asked me about mine. I gave edited highlights. Once or twice I caught Mum looking at me, a quizzical look on her face. She knew something wasn’t quite right – I could never fool her for very long. After I’d helped load the dishwasher, we sat down to watch TV. It was so peaceful, so comfortable – but it couldn’t last.

‘So where have you been today, Jayna?’ Mum asked quietly.

‘Actually, I’ve been asleep for most of today.’ At least that was the truth.

‘Asleep where?’

‘At Andrew’s house. In a spare room.’

‘During the day?’ Mum’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘That’s not like you. You’re not ill, are you? And you have a perfectly good bed right here. So why sleep elsewhere?’

I shrugged, desperately trying to come up with some plausible answer to her question and failing miserably.

‘Something’s the matter,’ said Mum. ‘You’re looking a bit peaky.’

‘Mum, you’re fussing.’ Stupidly, I risked a quick glance in her direction.

A dawning light appeared in her eyes. ‘Teegan, could you get me a glass of orange juice?’ she said, never taking her eyes off me.

‘But you’ve got a cup of tea by your hand,’ protested Teegan.

‘Then get one for yourself.’

‘But I don’t want one.’

‘Teegan . . .’

‘Oh, all right!’ Teegan stood up, muttering. ‘I bet you two are going to talk about boys and sex again! Why do I always get booted out at the good bits?’

‘And don’t listen at the door, either,’ Mum called out as Teegan left the room.

‘OK, Mum, spit it out.’

Mum came over to sit next to me. ‘Jayna, are you pregnant?’

Shocked, I stared at her. ‘No, I am not! Give us a chance!’

There’d been no sex since we’d moved to Andrew’s house. No way was I going to risk making any kind of noise in the Harrisons’ attic.

‘Then what’s wrong with you?’

I sought frantically for something to say. Something believable.

‘It’s got something to do with Andrew, hasn’t it? Has something happened between the two of you?’

I shook my head.

‘You’re lying,’ Mum said instantly. ‘I can always tell when you’re lying. Something’s wrong. And if you don’t tell me the truth, I’m going to march straight round to Andrew’s house and get the explanation from him.’

‘You wouldn’t!’ I said, appalled. ‘You wouldn’t show me up like that.’

‘In a hot New York second!’ Mum replied.

It usually made me laugh when she said that. Not this time, though. Not this time.

‘Listen, Mum, you wouldn’t believe the truth if I told you,’ I said desperately.

‘Try me.’

I took a deep breath. ‘Well, if you really want to know, Andrew was bitten at a party in Fipoli and he turned into a . . . a vampire, and then he bit me and now I’m the same. That’s why I look a bit funny-peculiar.’

Mum’s face became a mask. She sat up straighter, her lips thinned as she regarded me. ‘You’re not amusing, Jayna,’ she said crossly. ‘Right, then, I get the point. You’re seventeen and you’re a woman, free to come and go as you please. And I should mind my own business. After all, I’m only your mother.’

‘Mum, please . . .’ I tried to touch her arm but she shrugged away from me.

That stung.

‘From now on I’ll try to stay out of your life.’ Her voice dripped with frost.

‘I don’t want you to stay out of my life. You’re my mum,’ I said impatiently.

‘Then why don’t you treat me like your mother and start acting like a daughter!’

That one hurt.

Silently, I counted to ten, my fingers outstretched. ‘Mum, I don’t want an argument. I really don’t.’ I sighed. ‘And I’m fine, I promise.’

‘We haven’t even been back a day yet and already everybody’s arguing. I’m sick of this.’ Teegan was standing in the doorway, close to tears. How long had she been there?

I looked at Mum. She looked at me.

‘Sorry, Teegan. I’m sorry, Mum. Can’t we . . . can’t we just . . .’

‘I’m sorry you ever set eyes on Andrew Harrison,’ Mum mumbled.

I wasn’t supposed to hear, but I did. ‘Why don’t you like him?’ I asked unhappily.

‘I’ve got nothing against Andrew—’ Mum began.

‘But? There was a “but” at the end of that.’

‘But I’ve said too much already. As has been pointed out, it’s none of my business.’

‘Please, Mum. Why don’t you like him?’

‘Jayna, I do like Andrew.’ She sighed. ‘I like him because he’s obviously crazy about you.’

‘But?’

‘But you’re seventeen and he’s only a few months older and . . .’ She raised a hand when I would have interrupted. ‘And no matter what you say, that is still too young to think about committing yourself to one person.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you don’t know anything. You haven’t done anything, you haven’t seen anything of the world. If you get too serious now, you might regret it later. Andrew is very intense. That kind of intensity in someone so young is . . . not healthy. I just want to advise you, advise both of you, to slow down.’

For the very first time, I really heard what she was saying. ‘What makes you think that Andrew and I are getting too serious?’ I asked, lowering my gaze.

‘I’ve got eyes. I can see how you feel about Andrew and it’s no secret how he feels about you. Andrew feels things very deeply.’

‘What’s wrong with that?’

Mum shook her head. ‘I know you, Jayna. And I think I know Andrew. He wants to do new things, see new places, explore the world.’

‘So do I.’

‘Yes, but Andrew is happiest when he doesn’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. And when he wants something, he strikes me as the kind of person who wouldn’t let anything or anyone get in his way. Don’t tell me you’re the same, because you’re not,’ Mum continued quickly when I would have interrupted her. ‘I doubt if you could walk to the bottom of our garden without mapping out your route back first and making sure everyone was OK with your decision.’

‘You’re being really unfair. I have been known to do things for the hell of it, or the fun of it, without needing an analytical breakdown first. I’ve even been known to do things for love and—’ Abruptly I stopped speaking. I was saying too much, revealing too much.

‘All I’m saying is, be careful,’ said Mum. ‘Sooner or later one of you is going to get hurt. And I don’t want that.’

‘But you do like him?’

‘Yes, Jayna, I like him.’ She smiled and I smiled back at her. ‘So what time will you be home tonight, if that’s not being too nosy?’ asked Mum.

My grin vanished. ‘Mum, I’m coming to see you and Teegan tomorrow night and every night, but I . . . I can’t sleep here any more.’

Mum became very still. ‘And just where will you be staying? With Andrew?’

I nodded.

‘At his house?’

‘No, I only stayed there today. We have somewhere else to go from tonight. A place of our own.’

‘A place of—I see. And if I say I won’t allow it, I suppose it’ll do about as much good as forbidding you to go on holiday with Andrew.’

I didn’t answer.

‘Are you going to tell me where your new place is?’

‘Well, er . . . it’s not totally ours. What I mean is . . . we’re sharing with one of Andrew’s friends. Just until we get our own place.’ I hated lying – I was so useless at it.

‘And what are you going to use for money to pay for this place of your own?’ asked Mum. She was about as far from happy with the idea as it was possible to get.

‘Andrew is sorting all that out.’

‘Didn’t you listen to a word I just said?’ she asked, exasperated. ‘Would it do any good to tell you you’re both making a huge mistake?’

‘You said you liked him,’ I reminded her.

‘But you didn’t hear anything else I said, did you?’

‘Yes I did. Mum, please . . .’

‘So you’re giving up your home and your family to be with your boyfriend. And what happened to going to college?’ Mum said icily. ‘Are you giving that up for Andrew too?’

‘Of course not! I—’

Then I realized. I couldn’t go to college any more. We were due back in a few weeks’ time for my final A-level year. Would I now have to miss that? I wouldn’t be able to take my exams, or go on to university or get a normal job. They were all daytime activities. Ordinary daytime activities that I’d lost.

I walked over to the curtains and pulled them back. I looked up at the clear night sky, purple-blue, almost black. A dusting of silver stars twinkled down at me. The sunset must have been amazing.

Daytime activities.

‘What do Andrew’s parents think of all this?’ Mum asked from behind me.

‘I don’t know. I haven’t asked them. The same as you, I expect.’

‘Jayna, tell Andrew that you’ve changed your mind.’

‘It’s too late for that now.’ I didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud until I heard one sharp intake of breath from behind me.

‘Jayna, what’s going on?’

‘Nothing.’ I let the curtain fall back into place. ‘I have to go now. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ And I was out of the room and by the front door before she had a chance to stop me.

‘Jayna, wait.’ Teegan ran after me. ‘Are you really leaving?’

I tried to smile but failed. Teegan stood before me, blinking a lot to try and stop the tears in her eyes from falling. I hugged her to me, resting my cheek on the top of her head.

‘Just because I won’t be living here any more doesn’t mean you won’t see me. I’ll be around almost every day,’ I said quietly.

‘Then why go away?’

‘I just have to, that’s all.’

Teegan started to cry. No noise, no sniffing, just silent tears running down her cheeks. I didn’t see them; I heard them. I felt them.

Mum came out of the living room to stand in the hall. She didn’t say a word.

‘Oh, Teegan, please don’t. You’ll set me off in a minute.’ I could hardly speak for the choking lump in my throat. ‘I won’t be far away. I promise I’ll never be far away.’ I hugged her tighter.

After a few moments’ hesitation, Teegan hugged me back, squeezing me. ‘Jayna, don’t go,’ she whispered.

‘I have to,’ I said unhappily. ‘But I’ll see you tomorrow, squirt, I promise.’

‘Why are you going?’ she sniffed.

‘One day . . . maybe one day I’ll tell you.’ I sighed. ‘I’ve got to go now. See you tomorrow. Bye, Mum.’

I didn’t hang around. I couldn’t.

‘Bye, Mum,’ I said again, closing the door behind me.

I walked quickly up the street but I needn’t have worried; the front door remained closed. I was halfway up the street when the sound of Mum’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

‘Oh, Jayna . . . Jayna, I hope you know what you’re doing.’

I turned my head. There was no one behind me. Then I realized that she was still indoors. I covered my ears with my hands and started to run.

29

‘JAYNA, YOU’VE ARRIVED just in time.’ Diane beckoned me over the moment I entered the Burger Bar.

Andrew, Diane, Pete, Vijay, Ben, Caroline – they were all there. I forced a smile, waved and walked over to them, hoping I didn’t look as dejected as I felt. I passed by a baby in a pushchair on my way to my friends’ table. She was so cute, dressed in pink and with the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen on any infant. I stopped walking.

You have your whole life ahead of you, I thought. For you, anything is possible and maybe even probable. But the baby took one look at me and started howling. I hurried on, feeling the parents’ glaring eyes boring into my back.

When I reached my friends’ table, Andrew smiled at me sympathetically. He and Pete were seated on the same long bench, separated by Caroline and Ben. There was still frost between them, not surprising after their last encounter.

‘Hi, everyone. You OK, Pete?’

‘I’m fine.’ Pete’s smile was just for me. ‘I haven’t seen you in a while. I was worried. Didn’t you get my note?’

‘What note?’

‘I put a note through your door a few days ago, asking you to phone me.’

A glance at Andrew, who was studying the menu as if he’d never seen it before. ‘Sorry, Pete, but I didn’t get it.’

‘Well, you’re here now.’ Pete shrugged. ‘I’m glad you’re all right.’

I smiled and slid into the booth next to Diane. Another glance at Andrew, who still wouldn’t look at me. ‘So what’s happening?’ I asked.

‘We want you to settle an argument. We’re voting on who’s the best wind-up merchant at this table.’ Diane grinned.

‘Oh, that’s easy.’ I said. ‘Pete wins that one, hands down.’

‘I told you!’ Pete took a mock bow.

‘What are you talking about? I’m better at winding people up than Pete,’ Vijay said with indignation.

‘And I’m the best,’ said Caroline.

‘Nope. Pete beats you all. Listen to this. He told me that he didn’t stand me up on our first date – he said that he asked Andrew to give me the message that he couldn’t make it. Only Andrew decided not to pass on that message, but take me out himself instead. And do you know something? Pete actually had me believing it for a couple of microseconds.’

I creased up laughing at the memory, but my laughter died when I realized I was the only one at the table enjoying the joke. Diane was pulling all kinds of faces in my direction, Vijay was studying the decor and Ben was staring down at the table. Caroline was having a coughing fit while Pete was looking into his mineral water as if a goldfish had just appeared in it.

And Andrew’s face was a mask as he regarded Pete.

‘What’s the matter? Don’t you lot think that’s funny?’ I asked, puzzled.

I looked across at Andrew. He was still watching Pete, and Pete straightened up to look straight back at him. It was as though there were a silent conversation flowing between them.

And I understood every word.

Pete had been telling me the truth. It hadn’t been a wind-up, after all. And everyone had known except me. God, how could I have been so slow!

‘Andrew . . .?’ I could think of nothing else to say.

‘Thanks a lot, Pete,’ Andrew said quietly. He wasn’t even going to try and deny it.

‘Listen, Andrew, I told Jayna I was just joking,’ Pete replied. ‘You’re the one who’s just admitted to her that it was true.’

‘You said you wouldn’t say anything to her at all.’ Andrew’s voice was getting quieter and quieter.

‘I only told her because it looked like you two might be splitting up.’

‘So you thought you’d make sure of it.’

‘I told her I was joking, remember?’

‘Don’t you two dare talk around me as if I’m not here,’ I said furiously.

They looked at me briefly before turning back to each other.

‘I’ll remember this, Pete,’ Andrew said softly.

Pete held out his hand and shook it in the air. ‘I’m trembling, Andrew,’ he replied with scorn.

‘Come on, you two. Can we please change the subject?’ Diane asked. ‘Pretty please!’

Pete turned back to his drink. Andrew looked at me and I looked back at him. It was the expression on his face that did it. For the first time, I was frightened. Not anxious. Not nervous. Genuinely frightened.

Of Andrew.

30

EVERYONE DID THEIR best to lighten the mood around the table, but it was no good. I didn’t feel like speaking. Neither did Andrew. Nor Pete.

After five minutes of listening to the others struggle to make bright conversation, I stood up.

‘You’re not leaving, are you?’ Diane said, dismayed.

‘Yeah, I think so. It’s time I was going.’

Andrew stood up as well. ‘It’s time we were both going,’ he amended, moving past Ben and Caroline. ‘Excuse me, Pete.’

Without a word, Pete swung his legs round to let Andrew pass. Andrew and I walked out of the Burger Bar together, but apart. We were halfway along the road before Andrew spoke.

‘Aren’t you going to talk to me?’

‘What would you like me to say?’

‘Jayna, please.’

I stopped walking and turned to him. ‘What you did is the most despicable thing I’ve ever heard. I thought you and Pete were friends.’

‘OK, I forgot about his stupid note. So what?’ Andrew frowned. ‘He dropped it round and pushed it through your letterbox when you were . . . recovering, and I put it under the phone on the table in your hall and just forgot about it.’

‘I’m not talking about his bloody note,’ I said. I knocked on his forehead, exasperated. ‘Hello? Is anyone home? I’m talking about our first date. You lied to me – and Pete. I thought you two were mates?’

‘We are . . . we were.’ Andrew spoke bitterly. ‘Until he told you what really happened.’

I couldn’t believe his attitude. ‘Pete’s telling me isn’t the issue. Surely the point here is what you did?’ I said with sarcasm.

‘I had to. You would never have given me a second look otherwise.’

‘Rubbish. All you had to do was sit down and talk to me.’

‘That’s not true, and you know it. I know how you felt about me. I was a prize lemon. A dork.’

‘Only because for the last couple of years, before we started going out, every time I tried to talk to you, you’d answer in monosyllables and then scoot off. I thought you considered yourself too great to talk to me.’

‘That’s because I could never think of anything to say. I really liked you, but around you I got all tongue-tied and sprouted two left feet.’

‘You managed OK when you took Pete’s place,’ I pointed out coldly.

‘It was then or never,’ replied Andrew. ‘You and Pete were going out on your first date, remember? I knew I didn’t stand much of a chance once you two became an item. And I thought all’s fair, and all that.’

‘No. It. Isn’t. What you did was wrong.’

‘I know, but I reckoned I had no choice. After a while I managed to persuade Pete that he shouldn’t say anything unless you and I split up.’

‘And just how did you manage that?’

‘He could see that I was serious about you. And you seemed to like me. We started seeing each other regularly. So I pleaded with him not to say anything to break us up, and he didn’t, until now . . .’

‘Andrew . . .’ I shut up. I couldn’t be bothered to argue since he couldn’t see past the fact that Pete had told me the truth. We carried on walking.

‘Do you wish Pete had turned up at that cinema rather than me?’ asked Andrew.

I looked at him, but he was staring straight ahead. ‘It doesn’t make much difference now, does it?’ I answered. ‘You’re the one I went on holiday with. You’re the one I’m with now.’

‘Are you sorry?’

I didn’t answer.

‘I see,’ said Andrew grimly.

‘No, you don’t. I can’t understand what made you do it. It’s not like you. It’s not the Andrew I know.’ I spoke more to myself than Andrew. Regarding him, I said aloud, ‘It makes me wonder which Andrew is the real one.’

‘The one walking next to you. And I didn’t lie to you. You just assumed you’d been stood up.’

‘You lied by omission which is just the same. Don’t play word games with me. I haven’t been doing an A-level in English Literature for nothing!’

Five minutes passed before either of us spoke again. I kept stealing glances at Andrew, still trying to figure him out.

‘Andrew, tell me the truth. Did you go out with me for your own sake or because you wanted to stick it to Pete?’

Andrew glared at me. ‘How can you even ask me that? I was crazy about you then and I’m crazy about you now. That was the only reason I needed.’

I rubbed my hand across my forehead a couple of times, fighting off the beginnings of a killer headache.

‘So what happens now?’ he asked. ‘Do we carry on looking for somewhere of our own so we can live together? Do we go back to my house? Do we . . .? What?’

‘I don’t honestly know. My head is spinning. I . . . I need to be alone for a while. I need time to think.’

My life was spiralling out of control and I needed to grab hold of it to try and stabilize it again. I’d spent the last few weeks rushing from one disastrous decision to the next and it was time to stop. Just stop.

‘Think about what?’ asked Andrew.

‘About things.’ I couldn’t say any more than that.

‘So where are you going? Home?’

‘I can’t.’ I sighed. ‘Mum thinks I’m living with you now at a friend’s house until we find a place of our own. I had to tell her that, otherwise she would’ve turned up at your house during the day asking to speak to me and then our cover would be blown. So if I go back home now, she’d only ask a ton of questions.’

‘I’m sorry.’

That word again. God, but I hated that word. Sorry doesn’t help, I thought with frustration. Sorry is worth bugger all.

A woman walking her Alsatian dog approached us. Within a couple of metres of us the dog bared its teeth and began to growl. Andrew and I stopped walking and watched it. The dog began to bark vigorously, its ears pointing straight back, its hair bristling.

‘Roxanne!’ the woman admonished. ‘Roxanne, behave!’

As I watched I was aware that for the first time I wasn’t the least bit scared of the snarling brute. Usually a dog only had to look at me askance to send me speeding in the opposite direction. This dog wasn’t being particularly aggressive or hostile; it was more scared than anything else.

‘If you don’t shut up, you could end up as our dinner . . .’ Andrew mumbled so that only I could hear him. I elbowed him in the ribs.

‘I’m so sorry.’ The woman smiled apologetically. ‘I can’t think what has got into her. She’s usually so friendly.’

Andrew and I smiled back. The woman practically had to pull her dog past us. And Roxanne never took her eyes off us until she was well out of our way.

‘Andrew and Jayna Services Ltd. Babies and animals love us!’ Andrew said sardonically.

‘The cheapest baby-sitting rates in town. Dark nights only. Daytime work cannot be considered,’ I added.

‘Apply to the Harrison attic.’

‘Until further notice!’

We started laughing, and it was such a welcome visitor. It didn’t stay long, but it was good whilst it lasted.

‘It feels like we haven’t done that for a while.’ Andrew said what I was thinking.

‘We used to laugh all the time,’ I remembered.

‘We haven’t had so much to laugh about recently,’ Andrew agreed.

We regarded each other.

‘Jayna—’

‘Andy—’

We spoke in unison, both stopping abruptly.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow night,’ I sighed.

‘Tomorrow? Where are you going to sleep?’ Andrew wasn’t happy – to say the least.

‘I don’t know. I just want to walk for a while. To be honest, I don’t feel like company. I have some thinking to do. I’ll find somewhere safe, don’t worry.’

‘Like where?’

‘I’ll find something. I need to be alone.’

‘I see. And tomorrow?’

‘I’ll worry about that when it gets here. Isn’t it about time I adopted your policy?’ Not knowing what else to say, I turned away.

‘Jayna . . .’

I looked round.

‘I know what you’re doing, I’m not stupid. I should have given you Pete’s message. I knew that then, and I know it now. But I’ll tell you something – if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing. Not a damned thing.’

And with that he turned and walked away from me.

31

I WOKE UP the following evening shivering from cold and hunger. The previous night I’d walked and walked. A wild thought about greeting the sunrise had even entered my head.

But then I’d thought of Mum and Teegan and Andrew . . . and I couldn’t do it. I’d never been a coward, and I wasn’t about to change now, but guilt gnawed away at me like a starving dog with a bone.

I’d been too angry to let Pete explain about our broken date; I should never have accepted the drinks Julius gave us; I’d hurt Mum and upset Teegan. My life was a mess and, like a contagious disease, it seemed to be infecting all those around me.

At first all I could think about was how Andrew had lied to me and cheated Pete. Maybe I should’ve been flattered by what he had done, but I wasn’t. However, when I sat in the still of the night and honestly analysed my feelings, in the end I wasn’t sorry I’d gone out with Andrew. And after just one night away from him, I knew I never would be.

I’d needed the time alone, though. The trouble was, I couldn’t think straight when Andrew was near. Being with him confused me. Now at least, I’d finally worked things out. I knew how I truly felt about me and Andrew. I loved him, and he loved me. And maybe, when you got right down to it, that was all that really mattered. The rest would take care of itself if we could just get that right.

My trouble was that I was always looking backwards, not forwards. But no more of that. It was time to accept things as they were, not as I wanted them to be. Andrew wasn’t perfect. Neither was I.

We were blood drinkers, destined to be with each other. We had no choice but to drink to survive. And we had to do our living by night. I’d probably never see the sun again, or a blue sky or a white cloud, and that made something deep inside me ache . . .

But it was time to accept that fact and move on, with Andrew. We’d find a place of our own. Somewhere we could be together, a place to call home. And I could still study, by correspondence classes or maybe the Open University.

There are always ways, I told myself, always alternatives. It would work out, if we really wanted it to, if we fought hard enough to make sure it did.

That’s what Dad always used to say and I realized now that he too had found the words and the actual deed difficult to reconcile. That’s why I’d never really forgiven him. He’d said one thing, then done another, and it’d taken me until last night to finally realize that Dad and I were a lot alike. Maybe too much alike, but I was determined to get this right. And it hadn’t taken me as long as it had taken Dad to sort myself out – he’d have been proud of me.

However, my first priority was to get out of the basement of this derelict office block where I’d spent the day. Sleeping alone hadn’t been much fun. I’d go to Mum’s and have a shower. Then I’d find Andrew and we’d both feed. Suddenly I knew what I was doing and where I was going. And it was a wonderful feeling.

What would Andrew say when I told him how I felt? Would he feel the same? Would he agree with me? Or would he be so sick of my moods that he wouldn’t care? No, I couldn’t believe that. I remembered the way he’d looked when I’d told him I wanted to be alone. He loved me, and once I told him what I’d finally decided we’d be OK. Better than OK. Andrew and I would make it through this together.

What was the saying? Today was the first day of the rest of our lives.

32

‘HELLO, CAROLINE. HIYA, Ben. Has either of you seen Andrew?’ Ben and Caroline were alone in our gang’s usual booth and they didn’t welcome the interruption. Tough!

‘Hi, Jayna. Er . . . he was in here briefly about half an hour ago,’ Ben replied.

‘Do you know where he went?’

‘No idea,’ Caroline said. ‘He and Pete had a brief conversation and then they left together.’

Icy fingers began to tap at my spine. ‘They left together?’

Caroline and Ben nodded. I didn’t know what to make of that. Maybe Pete and Andrew had made up? I hoped so. They’d been such good friends before. So why did I feel so uneasy? After all, why shouldn’t they leave together? What had happened all those months ago was now just water under the bridge. Wasn’t it . . .?

‘Oh, all right. Thanks, anyway. I’ll leave you two to it, then.’

Ben and Caroline didn’t argue for me to stay. I left the Burger Bar trying to summon up the courage to visit the Harrison household.

Eat first. Face Mrs Harrison on a full stomach, at least! I thought.

I started the walk to Andrew’s house. A gentle breeze whispered across my face. It carried the faintest scent of blood in it – fresh, sweet blood. My mouth instantly filled with saliva and my stomach rumbled hungrily. Licking my lips, I stood perfectly still and sniffed. Now that I was concentrating on the smell, it was stronger.

The aroma came from the darkened alleyway beside the Burger Bar. Gingerly I began to walk along it, picking my way through the mounds of burger cartons and split black bin-liners. There was no light in the alley, except that which filtered through the frosted-glass windows at the side of the restaurant, but that was no problem to me nowadays. The smell was getting stronger all the time. Pungent. I licked my lips. My teeth were beginning to extend. Even though I’d already fed on a cat I’d found in the derelict office block, the smell still made me hungry.

Then I saw him ahead. Pete. He was sprawled on the ground on top of a pile of rotting, stinking rubbish, his head tilted to his right. The tiniest stream of blood had collected to the side of his slightly open lips, but his neck was a wide open gash where his throat had been ripped out. Very little blood had pooled beneath him, though. My hands flew to my mouth. Pete stared with unseeing eyes at the wall in front of him, and I strained to hear a heartbeat but there was none – no sound at all from him. Just the rumble of the traffic on the main road and the clatter of pans and pots from the Burger Bar kitchen. My breath caught in my throat. I didn’t need to get any closer.

Pete was dead.

I wanted to scream, to vomit. I couldn’t get the smell of blood out of my nostrils. It hung in the air, surrounding me, and I could almost taste it.

Pete . . .

Footsteps approached and I looked round. The alley was a dead end. I mustn’t be found here – there would be questions. Questions that would last through the night and well into daylight . . .

Opposite the restaurant was a wall, four metres high. Without hesitation I bent my knees and leaped onto the top of it. Had I stopped to think about it I never could’ve done it. The footsteps were nearer. Crouching low, I turned to see who it was. A man and a woman who worked at the restaurant, each carrying a large black bin-liner.

‘If that woman says one more thing to me . . .’

‘You’ve got more patience than I have,’ the woman’s companion said sympathetically.

‘Patience? It’s not patience. If I didn’t need this job . . . Dave . . .? Dave, what’s that?’

‘What? I don’t see anything.’

‘Over there. By the far wall.’

Gingerly they walked forward, almost on tiptoe.

‘Karen, someone’s there,’ Dave whispered.

‘Oh, I see now. Leave him. He’s probably drunk or something,’ Karen replied with distaste. She and Dave carried on moving slowly forwards.

‘I . . . I don’t think so. He doesn’t look too good . . .’

‘Is he OK?’ Karen whispered. Then they reached Pete.

‘Oh, my God!’ And Karen screamed.

I didn’t wait to hear any more. I straightened up and ran along the narrow wall. Pete . . . What had happened? His neck . . . it must’ve been Andrew. Why? He had no need to do that. But yesterday, when I’d learned the truth about my non-existent first date with Pete, I’d seen the look in Andrew’s eyes as he regarded his friend. And now Pete was dead.

Oh God! Pete was dead.

Why had Andrew done it? Because he was stronger, because he could. I should have been there to stop him, but I’d been away holding a pity party for one, thinking only about myself. To think I used to love it when Andrew was jealous. I’d thought it was romantic. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

And now Pete was dead.

And Andrew was a killer.

My boyfriend had drunk Pete’s blood. The lack of blood beneath Pete’s body had screamed that out. I had to find him – I couldn’t rest until I did. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. Sand burned my eyes and filled my throat and I felt sick. Sick because I hadn’t been sick. Sick because until I’d seen it was Pete lying there, I’d been salivating at the prospect of fresh blood. What had I turned into? What had we both turned into?

Something vile and rotten and repulsive. Something no longer human. Not the super-humans Andrew said, but something less than that. Much less than that.

And I had to do something about it.

33

‘OH, IT’S YOU.’ Mrs Harrison’s face fell. ‘What do you want?’

‘Is Andrew in?’

I had no time to be pleasant to this unpleasant woman. I’d run all the way from the Burger Bar and I’d already been round the back of the house and up to the attic but Andrew hadn’t been there. I needed to find him. I kept thinking about the way Pete had looked when I discovered his body. He hadn’t deserved that – no one deserved that. I would find Andrew if it took me all night.

‘You know more about his whereabouts than I do,’ Mrs Harrison said bitterly.

‘I don’t understand.’

‘You heard me. Ever since he took up with you I’ve hardly seen him. And now he’s moved right out. I hope you’re satisfied.’

‘Is he here now?’ I repeated impatiently.

‘Well, he could have come home and gone straight up to his room while I was in the sitting room. He barely talks to me these days. That’s something else I can thank you for.’

‘Do you mind if I check?’ I stepped past her before she could stop me. I didn’t give a toss whether she minded or not.

‘Well, really!’

‘Andrew!’ I shouted out from the hall.

Mrs Harrison closed the door before turning to face me. ‘Do you have to shout like a common fish-wife?’

‘How would you like me to shout, then?’

‘Must you shout at all?’

‘Andrew! Are you up there?’ I yelled even louder. Mrs Harrison closed her eyes as if in pain. ‘Andrew!’ I turned back to Mrs Harrison just in time to see the look of disgust on her face. ‘Don’t look at me like that, you stuck-up snob. And I’ve never seen anyone who had less to be snobbish about!’

‘I’ll never know what my son sees in you.’ Mrs Harrison shook her head. ‘Novelty value, no doubt. I can only pray that the novelty will wear off soon.’

I stretched out my fingers. I didn’t need this. Not now. Not tonight. ‘Maybe he wanted someone who was as different from his mother as he could get,’ I suggested.

Andrew, you didn’t have to do that to Pete . . .

‘Now that you know Andrew isn’t here, please leave.’ Mrs Harrison’s eyes narrowed.

‘Listen, Mrs Harrison, I know you don’t like me and that’s fine ’cause I don’t like you either,’ I said quietly, my fingers stretched to the point of breaking.

‘At least that’s something we both agree on,’ Mrs Harrison muttered under her breath.

Every word rang in my ears like a bell. I glared at her. ‘It doesn’t matter what I say or do, does it? And it never will,’ I said. ‘I don’t dress in designer labels, I don’t speak with the same cut-glass voice as you, and most of all, you can’t get past the fact that I’m black. You’re not the slightest bit interested in who I am or what I think and feel. Well, here’s a hot newsflash, I’m proud of what I am. I wouldn’t change even if I could. So you can go straight to hell, you and your Mercedes-Benz!’

‘How dare you! Contrary to what you so obviously think, it’s not your colour that concerns me, it’s your class – or complete lack of it.’ Mrs Harrison’s face turned puce.

She wasn’t the only one drowning in fury at that moment.

‘I am so tired of you and your snotty attitude. You’re no better than anyone else, Mrs Harrison, you just think you are. It’s thanks to you that both your sons think they can do what they like and get away with it. They both think their opinions are more valid than anyone else’s, that they can do whatever they like with impunity. Your whole family makes me sick.’

With a start, I realized what I’d said – about both her sons. I hadn’t meant to say that, the words had just slipped out of my mouth. Was that what I really believed? And then I knew it wasn’t a question of what I wanted to believe any more. The truth was the truth. Even Andrew – my Andrew – was as arrogant as his mother in his own way.

‘Get out of my house.’ Mrs Harrison moved towards me.

‘With pleasure. I regret ever setting foot in this mausoleum.’

‘Where you are concerned, that makes two of us.’

Something . . . say something to hurt her, the way she’s hurt you, I told myself. Say something . . .

‘Yeah, but I’m not the only one who can’t stand this house, am I? Andrew couldn’t wait to leave here and live with me, Morgan spends as much time away from this place as possible, and Mr Harrison can’t be working late every night. Everyone but you knows he’s been having an affair with his PA for at least the last three years—’

Before either of us could think about it, Mrs Harrison raised her hand and slapped my face. I could see each movement frame by frame as it came, but I was rooted to the spot. As if I couldn’t believe, wouldn’t believe, that she would really do it.

But she did.

I scowled at her. My temper flew out the window.

‘Why, you—’ I raised my hand and slapped her back. The force of my blow lifted her off her feet and sent her sailing through the air. I watched horror-stricken as Andrew’s mother hit the banisters side-on at least two metres off the ground. Her head hit the balustrade with a sickening thud and she crumpled up and fell to the ground like a bag of bricks.

And there it was again, the smell of blood.

34

I RAN OVER to her and crouched down. Her eyes were closed but she was still breathing. Just. I picked up a hand by the wrist to feel for a pulse, then the sound of the front door opening had my head whipping round. Morgan and Andrew stood in the doorway. We all froze.

‘What the hell—’ Morgan was the first to break the spell.

I looked down at Mrs Harrison. I was still holding her hand. I dropped it immediately and stood up. ‘Andrew, it’s not—’

‘You bitch!’ Morgan ran over to his mother, pushing me aside.

‘Andrew.’ I stepped forward. ‘I . . . it’s not what you think.’

One look at Andrew’s face and everything I wanted to say died in my mouth. He stared at me with disbelief. And as I watched, disbelief turned to anger and anger turned into something far, far worse.

‘Andrew, it was an accident,’ I whispered. ‘She . . . I . . .’

‘Andrew, phone for an ambulance,’ Morgan said urgently. ‘Mum’s still alive but her pulse is weak. I don’t want to let her go.’

Andrew didn’t move. He didn’t take his eyes off me.

‘For heaven’s sake, Andrew,’ Morgan said with fury. ‘We’ll deal with her later. Right now, we have to get Mum to hospital. Fast!’

When Andrew still didn’t move, Morgan swore and reached into his jacket for his own mobile. I took a step towards Mrs Harrison; I only wanted to help, and I knew some first aid. Morgan tensed and Andrew moved like lightning to grab my arm.

‘Don’t you go near her. Don’t you touch her,’ he hissed at me.

‘I was only trying—’

‘I know what you were trying to do,’ Andrew said.

‘The same thing that you did to Pete?’

What I’d meant as a question came out as a rationale, an excuse. I hadn’t meant it like that at all. But from Andrew’s face I could see he’d misunderstood me.

‘So you thought you’d get even?’ Andrew said softly. ‘Why wasn’t I listening for you? I should have known . . . I should have been listening.’ The harshness of his voice made me flinch. Behind me I could hear Morgan talking to the emergency services.

‘It wasn’t like that. It . . . it was an accident—’

‘Yeah, of course it was,’ Morgan interrupted, his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone.

I turned to him. ‘Yes it was. I swear—’

‘Don’t listen to her, Andrew,’ Morgan said fiercely. His attention returned to the phone in his hand.

I looked down at Mrs Harrison but all I could see was Pete. I tried to think of Pete but all I could see was Mrs Harrison. I was going crazy. The whole world was turning upside down and tipping me with it. I turned back to Andrew.

‘Pete . . . Andrew, why did you do it? Pete was harmless. How could you . . .?’

‘He deserved it.’ Andrew’s voice was ice-cold, ice-hard. ‘He’s the reason you left me. He split us up. Only now I see that you weren’t worth it.’

I flinched as though Andrew had struck me. ‘So what you did doesn’t matter? The only thing that counts is what you think I did to your mother?’

‘I was angry,’ Andrew shouted. ‘Pete and I were quarrelling and I forgot what I was and punched him. You were out for revenge. That’s the difference.’

No difference, I thought. No difference at all.

‘Punching him may have been in anger, but what about feeding on him?’ I said, not attempting to mask my bitter accusation in any way. ‘Tell me that was an accident as well.’

‘He was dying, as good as dead. And he deserved it,’ said Andrew with slow deliberation.

Looking at Andrew when he said that was like looking into the eyes of a lethal stranger.

‘Andrew, listen to me . . .’

‘No, I won’t listen. Not any more.’

I’d never seen Andrew like this before. I’d never seen that look on his face.

Morgan put the phone down and cradled his mum’s head in his lap. ‘I know what you are,’ he said to me. ‘I know. Andrew told me everything. But don’t think that being some kind of a vampire is going to protect you. I’m going to spend each and every day from now on hunting you until I destroy you. And I will destroy you.’

I swallowed hard. ‘I’m not scared of you, Morgan.’

‘Which just shows how stupid you are, ’cause if you had any sense, you would be,’ he replied in a voice that froze my blood. He turned to Andrew. ‘Andrew, I think you should make me the same as you. She wouldn’t stand a chance against both of us.’

‘No, Morgan. Jayna is my problem.’

I looked back at Andrew and his eyes narrowed.

‘So, Jayna, if this is the way you want it . . .’ he told me ominously.

I looked around. Mrs Harrison was unconscious. Morgan would stop at nothing now to get me. And as for Andrew . . . Andrew was a stranger. A dangerous stranger. Everything was closing in on me. The walls. Morgan. Andrew. What I was. What I’d become. All the things I’d given up, and for what? For nothing. For some silly, naive romantic dream that was nothing more than an illusion.

So I fled.

I bolted for the front door and flung it open and ran.

‘No, Andrew, don’t go after her. I know how we can get her to come to us . . .’ I heard Morgan say.

I kept running. A slight drizzle began to fall. The moon was hidden behind a thick blanket of dark clouds. I ran faster and faster until the people I passed in the street could only feel me as a gust of night air rushing by them.

And I was crying. I wiped my hands across my face and was surprised, then not surprised, to see blood. No more salt-water tears. Just tears of blood.

I didn’t know where I was running to. Where could I go? Back to the derelict office block? Andrew might find me there. All he’d have to do was wander around and concentrate on hearing my breathing or smelling my perfume or listening for the sound of my crying. I had to keep moving. I didn’t dare stop, at least not until I was closer to the dawn than I had yet been. Only then could I be reasonably certain that Andrew would be more concerned about finding shelter for the day than finding me. But that would still leave Morgan . . .

I kept running and walking, and hiding at every muted sound that might be Andrew. I wondered how Mrs Harrison was doing. In spite of everything I hoped she was all right. Never again would I forget how strong I was.

And what about my mum? I’d told her I would see her soon but I didn’t dare risk it. Maybe Morgan and Andrew would start watching our house, expecting me to turn up there sooner or later. I couldn’t let Mum or Teegan get involved in this. I had to find a way out of this one myself. One thing was for sure: Andrew and Morgan wouldn’t rest until they found me. Would Andrew make Morgan a blood drinker as his brother had requested? Morgan wouldn’t rest until he got his way. Would I have at least one day’s grace before I had to face them both?

I walked until I found myself outside Diane’s house. It was early morning now, an hour at most before dawn. The street was dimly lit by the street lamps, the silence around me deafening. Only two of the houses in the street still had their lights on. Diane’s house was in darkness, but I knew her bedroom was at the back. After making sure that there was no one else around, I jumped the side gate and walked up the path to the back garden. I stood there, considering.

What if I made Diane a blood drinker, the same as me? Then I wouldn’t be alone – I’d have someone else on my side. I wouldn’t wake her up, though. If I drank just enough blood to knock her out – if I could face drinking human blood, that is – then I could carry her somewhere safe and make her one of us. If Andrew could do it, why not me? I could get in through the window easily. All I had to do was jump up on the kitchen windowsill and then spring up to her open window. Diane would join me. I knew she would. We were friends.

Oh my God . . .

I hung my head.

‘How could you?’ I whispered.

Diane and I were friends. So was I really going to drag her into my miserable life sentence? Death sentence? I wouldn’t visit what I was now on my worst enemy, so how could I even think of inflicting this life on Diane? And at that moment, it struck me how totally alone I really was. This wasn’t living. I was struggling just to stay alive. God, how I missed the daylight. How I missed sunshine on my face. Did I really want this for my friend too?

‘Sorry, Diane.’ I spoke up to her window.

I walked down the side path and, once out in the street, I started to run.

Again.

35

IT TOOK ME over half an hour of walking to decide what to do next. It was so logical I wondered why I hadn’t thought of it sooner. I dug into the pocket of my jeans for my phone, but it wasn’t there. A moment’s pause, then I started digging through all my pockets, the ones in my jeans, the ones in my jacket. Where the hell was my mobile? Damn it! I wanted to send Andrew a text message, but how could I do that with no phone? Now what?

How did people send messages before phones? It finally occurred to me what I had to do, but I needed some things first. I travelled all the way into town to find a twenty-four-hour supermarket that sold writing pads and envelopes. Glancing down at my watch, I realized that I didn’t have much time left before the sun rose. The minutes were running faster than I was. And I was getting dizzy.

I knew I needed to feed some more but I simply couldn’t face it. Not tonight. Not after so much blood had already been spilled. What I was doing was dangerous – I might not wake up the next evening – but the thought of feeding again that night . . .

Hopping onto a night bus, I sat in the rear seat upstairs, as far away from the other two people on the bus as I could get. For the first time I wasn’t sure if I trusted myself. The need to feed was getting worse. And lone people were easier to find than stray animals. The fact that I could even think like that sickened me. How long would it be before I had no choice but to feed on people? Or maybe I would have a choice and just wouldn’t care any more. Was that how Andrew had felt when feeding on Pete? And was Pete only his first victim? I felt sure now that he had killed others. Perhaps it was just a matter of time before I would too . . .

‘Never,’ I told myself fiercely. ‘Don’t ever do that.’

As I sat back in my seat, I forced myself to calm down and think properly. When Mrs Harrison had been knocked out . . . when I’d knocked her out, she’d been badly injured. I saw that at once. So the chances were that Morgan and Andrew hadn’t been out looking for me at all. They were probably both at the local hospital with their mother still. I hoped fervently that they were, as I couldn’t deliver my letter otherwise. I felt sure I was right. Morgan and Andrew would be too busy with their mother to think about me. There was always tomorrow for that . . . and the next day, and the day after that.

I dug a pen out of my pocket and started to write:

Dear Andrew,

I’ve decided that

I scrunched up the piece of paper and threw it on the floor. I started again.

Andrew,

I’ve decided that the best thing for both of us is for me to go away, far away. Please believe me, I didn’t mean to hurt your mum. We had an argument a quarrel and I lost my temper and slapped her. I forgot how strong I am we are. That’s the truth, I swear it is. I hope with all my heart she gets better.

You had no reason to do what you did to Pete. He hadn’t split us up. I was trying to find you to tell you that. I wanted you to know that I loved you and I’d finally accepted who and what we are, but I always did have lousy timing.

Jayna

I folded up the letter and put it in an envelope.

Ten minutes later the bus stopped as close to Andrew’s house as it was ever going to get. I got off and stood still for a few moments. Even being this near his house made me nervous. What if I was wrong and he was at home?

‘Come on, Jayna. You’re not a coward,’ I whispered to myself, then immediately wished I hadn’t. If Andrew was anywhere within the next few streets, with his hearing he was bound to have heard that. I stood still and listened. I could hear nothing out of the ordinary – this early in the morning there was barely anything to hear. I started walking.

Once I reached Andrew’s street, I entered the back gardens via the side gate of the first house. I’d have more cover if I approached his house from behind rather than from the road. When I reached the Harrison garden I was perspiring, not from exertion but from fear. I jumped onto the conservatory roof as quietly as I could, but still I made a slight noise. I waited for countless seconds. Nothing. Shaking, I jumped up onto the roof and froze. If Andrew were in the attic he must surely have heard me.

There was no sound, no movement from within. Ducking low, I ran across the sloping roof to the skylight. It was open. That usually meant that Andrew wasn’t home. When I’d been in the attic, Andrew closed it only when we were ready to settle down for the day. He’d covered the skylight from the inside with a thick, midnight-blue, velvet curtain that his mum used to keep in a drawer. No light could penetrate that but, as a precaution, Andrew and I still had placed our sleeping bags in the darkest corner of the attic, as far away from the skylight as we could get.

So this was it. If the open skylight was a trick to get me into the attic then I was about to fall for it. Opening it slightly wider, I took a deep breath and jumped down. I immediately expected Andrew to grab my arms, with Morgan there to help him.

Silence. I was alone.

Almost crying with relief, I went over to Andrew’s sleeping bag. I wasn’t going to hang around waiting for him to come back. Placing the letter where he couldn’t help but see it, I headed back for the skylight. I jumped out, then paused on the roof. Apart from a cat mewing, several houses away, and the breath of the wind, there was no sound. I leaped down from the roof, straight into the garden. I was winded slightly on impact but that was all. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to drift away for a few moments as I tried to decide what to do next, but my mind was blank. First things first. I needed to find shelter out of the sun and sunrise was mere minutes away. With a sigh I opened my eyes and jumped over the fence into the next house’s garden. Then I heard it, the sound of footsteps. One set almost indiscernible, the other heavy. I froze.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll find her,’ said Morgan.

‘Morgan, you’re not to do anything without me.’

‘You think I’m afraid of her? I don’t care if she is a vampire. She could be a vampire and a werewolf combined and I’d still get her!’

‘No, you wouldn’t. She is far stronger than you and she could rip your head off in one move without breaking a sweat. She’s almost as strong as me now. My only threat.’

‘Then why don’t you make me a vampire too?’

‘We’ve been over this before.’ Andrew sighed. ‘Making Jayna the same as me was a mistake. And I don’t repeat my mistakes.’

‘But I want you to—’

‘No! That’s final.’

There was a moment’s pause as they opened the side gate, closing it behind them. I crouched down lower, barely daring to breathe, willing my heart to slow its beat.

‘I wouldn’t have believed any of this if I hadn’t seen what you did to that black guy,’ Morgan said.

‘I’m sorry I did that. I shouldn’t have lost my temper and hit him. Oh hell! I . . . I heard his neck snap. He didn’t stand a chance. And then the smell of his blood . . .’ I heard Andrew shake his head.

‘What’s done is done,’ Morgan dismissed. ‘The point is, what are you going to do now?’

‘I’ll find Jayna. Don’t worry.’ Andrew’s tone chilled my blood. And still I didn’t dare breathe.

‘And when you find her?’

There was no reply.

‘Just don’t forget, little brother, that she tried to kill our mother. You know how we found her, bent over Mum’s wrist, ready to drink her blood.’

‘I’m not likely to forget, am I?’

‘And you know what the doctor at the hospital said . . .’

‘Morgan, I heard him. My ears do work, thank you.’

‘Well, I know you. All Jayna has to do is tell you some cock and bull story about it being an accident and you’d believe her.’

‘Not this time. Don’t worry, Morgan, I know better now,’ Andrew said softly. ‘Jayna is my immortal enemy.’

‘Too right. We’ve got to make sure that she doesn’t get to Mum or any of us ever again.’

Andrew took a deep breath. ‘I know . . . I shouldn’t have made her the same as me. It was a mistake. I had no right.’

‘You didn’t hold a gun to her head,’ Morgan scoffed. ‘It was her choice. I bet she couldn’t wait. It was her chance to get back at Mum and Dad and me.’

‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘There you go again, defending her,’ Morgan said furiously.

‘Drop it, Morgan. And I mean it. You’re not to do anything until I wake up later this evening. We’ll find her together.’

‘And make her pay.’

Andrew didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

I listened as he sprang up onto the conservatory roof. I drew back into the shadow of the fence, praying that he wouldn’t turn round and see me. Morgan lifted up the loose brick that covered the spare key to the conservatory door and let himself into the house. Even then I only dared to let out my breath a very little at a time. I had to get out of here. Fast. The sunrise was less than ten minutes away.

Shelter first, then I had to sort out what to do. There had to be a way.

Then it hit me. Julius. The only place to get any answers was in Fipoli. Julius was the only one who could help Andrew and me now.

He was my only hope.

36

IT TOOK SIX nights of travelling to make it to Fipoli. Having to find safe places to spend my days had slowed me right down. I didn’t take much with me, just a sleeping bag, underwear and a change of clothes. And each night I fed, I felt worse and worse about what I was doing. I was alive, but this wasn’t living.

I wasn’t going to give up. I knew what I wanted now. It was simple. I wanted to be changed back into a normal person. I wanted to be a boringly ordinary individual again. Once I’d returned to normal – and surely there was a way of changing my blood back, some kind of transfusion I could have – then maybe I could persuade Andrew to join me. Surely he had read my letter, and now that he’d had time to calm down and think, he must have realized that I wasn’t his enemy. What had he called me? A threat? What a joke!

Once I was back to normal, Andrew would remember how things used to be between us. Surely, like me, he wanted that back? Everything else was lies and talk. If he could revert to human, he would. I was convinced of it.

And if he didn’t . . .?

I shook my head, refusing to speculate in that direction. All I had to do was convince Andrew that what had happened with his mother had been an accident. A way back for both of us was something to be seized with eager open arms. But first things first.

Find Julius.

I came into Fipoli from the northern route. It felt strange to see it again, after what seemed like years rather than a few weeks. The whitewashed buildings with their coloured shutters were like something from another world.

It was almost five o’clock in the morning and the streets were deserted. Not just empty, but deserted. Not a dog, not a cat, not a homeless person. Nothing. I made my way to the main street running through Fipoli town centre. I knew my way and I didn’t have much time since the dawn was fast approaching – I’d cut the last part of my journey very fine.

Within two or three minutes of finding the main street, I was at Julius’s house. I’d fed only lightly, so all the exertion made me hungry, but I wasn’t going to feed. Not now. Not when I was so close. I strolled up to the front door and knocked. Now that I was here, I was impatient to see him. He was my best and final hope.

After what seemed like ages, the door opened slowly and Julius stood there, shrouded in shadow. At the sight of him, my heartbeat raced. This was it. Would he remember me? Could he help me?

‘Julius, it’s Jayna. Jayna Lucas. I need to talk to you.’

His eyes narrowed, then without saying a word, he stepped aside and I walked cautiously into Julius’s house. The door shut almost silently behind me. I turned and we watched each other, warily on my part.

‘I am glad to see you again, Jayna,’ he said, speaking his strange guttural English. His voice sent a flash of lightning down my spine. There was something about the tone, the granite-hard stare of his eyes, that made me want to draw away from him. I remembered how I’d seen him with Andrew’s wrist in his hand and Andrew’s blood on his lips.

It was him. He’d started all this chaos. He was the one who brought innocent victims to his house, like a spider enticing flies into its web. But now he was the only one who could help me. Voluntarily or involuntarily. I was sure I’d read somewhere that if you killed the person who’d made you a vampire, you could return to being human as long as you hadn’t drunk human blood. Or maybe I’d seen that in a film someplace.

‘I came to ask you . . . to ask you . . .’ My voice faded and died.

Above us, in the room to the left at the top of the stairs, I could hear noises. Recognizable noises.

‘I see that Andrew made you one of us.’ Julius smiled slowly with satisfaction.

‘One of us?’

‘A vampire.’

‘How can you tell?’

He smiled. A strange, secret, horrible smile. ‘It is obvious. The way you look. The way you sound.’ He moved in closer, his nose mere millimetres away from my face as he breathed in deeply. ‘The way you smell . . . I can always tell. To me it is as obvious as your colour.’

So he could tell I wasn’t human any more. With a start I realized what I’d just thought. Human . . . Wasn’t I human still . . .?

‘I’m not like you, Julius . . .’

‘Ah, but you are. You are one of the Undead. Like me. Like your lover, Andrew.’

I shook my head, but smiled slightly to take the sting out of my words. ‘I only drink animal blood. I don’t kill people. I’m not like you or Andrew.’

‘You will be. It could be tomorrow, the day after, next week, next year. But you will kill. And once you have tasted human blood you will never turn back.’

Long moments passed as I studied him. ‘That’s why I came here. To get your help. Can we go upstairs to your room?’

‘Of course.’ Julius ushered me upstairs, following close behind me. What was I doing? Getting in deeper and deeper. My heart was about to burst out of my chest and I forced myself to breathe slowly, to try and slow down my heartbeat. Julius was no fool. He’d notice something if I wasn’t very, very careful. At the top of the stairs, I forced myself not to look at the other door. The sounds continued, louder and more frantic than before. Fearful sobs . . .

Once in Julius’s room, I couldn’t suppress the shudder of revulsion that ran through me. This was where it had all started. He had a small double bed pushed against the wall that hadn’t been present the last time Andrew and I had been here. The room was spartan to the point of being almost empty. Just the bed and a small bookcase crammed full of books. Shutters had been placed over the window in the room and nailed down. I hadn’t noticed that before.

‘Is that safe?’ I pointed to the window as I turned back to Julius.

‘Very. The shutters outside the window have also been nailed shut and the window has been painted black. All the windows and shutters in this place are nailed up.’

‘You aren’t taking any chances, are you?’

‘I like it here. I intend to stay a while.’

We regarded each other. The little hope with which I had travelled withered slowly inside.

‘How long . . . how long have you been a vampire?’ I asked.

‘Seventy-three years, four months, fourteen days.’

I stared at him, shocked. Whatever I’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.

Julius grinned at me. The grin of a boy in his early twenties. ‘Age to people like us is just a number. It means nothing.’

I hadn’t realized. ‘So I see. I bet . . . I bet you know more about what we are and what we can achieve than I can even imagine.’

‘You will learn.’

Silence.

‘Will you teach me?’ I asked quietly.

His grin faded. It took all my courage not to look away as he scrutinized me. ‘What about you and Andrew?’ he asked at last.

‘What about us?’

‘What happened to all that fire and passion?’

I hated his sneering words, his mocking tone. Yet there was something else underlying them. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Sadness? Regret?

‘Where is the undying love you told me you both felt for each other?’ asked Julius.

‘Those two people don’t exist any more, except as memories. They died that night in this room,’ I replied slowly. ‘It’s taken me until this moment to realize it, that’s all.’

‘The love you had for each other is the reason you and Andrew are still alive,’ he said harshly.

Alive . . . I breathed the word. Not living, just alive.

I’d taken on something I’d thought I could handle, something I’d thought I could control. Only instead of me taking control, Julius had. Like a fool, I’d really believed I could do this and win. I looked at the nailed-down shutters again. An inner sense told me the sunrise was fast approaching.

But not fast enough.

‘Do you mind if I sit down?’

Julius shrugged. I sat on his bed and he came and sat beside me. My heartbeat was speeding up again and I almost couldn’t hear the sounds coming from the room across the landing – almost.

‘The sun will be up soon.’ I looked straight ahead, too nervous to look at Julius.

‘Where will you stay?’

‘I was hoping you’d let me stay here for the day.’ I licked my dry lips.

‘My pleasure.’ He placed his hand under my chin and turned my head. Then he kissed me. It was like kissing an ice cube, cold and hard and flavourless. I wanted to puke. I wanted to push him away and drag the back of my hand across my mouth. I did none of those things.

Time. I needed more time. And a plan. Think of something, Jayna.

Julius drew away from me. He watched me silently. ‘You love Andrew still?’

‘I told you, what Andrew and I felt for each other before doesn’t exist any more.’

‘And you blame me?’ Julius’s expression was shrewd, calculating.

Careful, Jayna . . .

I shrugged. ‘I don’t blame anyone. It’s just one of those things. Now it’s time for me to move on, to find . . . someone else. Julius, if you don’t mind me asking, are there many others like us?’

‘It depends on what you call “many”.’

‘How many of us have you . . . made?’

Julius shrugged. ‘Andrew was the eighth.’

‘I’ll tell him – if I ever see him again. Eight is his lucky number,’ I said.

Julius moved closer. I didn’t move. ‘I am very careful about those I . . . change,’ he said silkily. ‘They need to have a desire to survive that surpasses all other things. I was not sure if your Andrew had this.’

‘He may not,’ I said softly. ‘I, however, do.’

‘So why are you here?’ Julius’s breath chilled my face as his lips were, once again, unbearably close to mine. ‘You still haven’t told me.’

‘I’d like you to teach me everything you know.’ I smiled into his eyes, forcing myself not to follow my screaming instincts and back away from him. ‘Julius, I know there’s so much you can teach me and I can’t wait years to get it right.’

‘I still get things wrong.’ Julius laughed harshly. ‘Like you and your lover Andrew.’

‘You didn’t get that wrong. It’s just that Andrew and I couldn’t get it right. And you still know far more than me,’ I said. ‘Tell me, how many times have you drunk fully from people? How many people have you . . . you . . .’ I couldn’t bring myself to say the rest.

‘I feed about three times a week. More in the summer when the tourists arrive.’ Julius laughed. A cruel, vicious laugh. ‘D’you know that each nationality has its own unique taste? I believe it has something to do with regional cuisine and the chemicals added to each different country’s water. I have become quite a connoisseur of blood over the years.’

‘Is that why you have the parties? To find strangers who can . . . service you?’

‘Why else?’

I closed my eyes and leaned forward to kiss him. In my head I concentrated on Andrew’s face before we’d ever met Julius, Andrew’s smell, Andrew’s smile. Julius’s arms locked around me as his mouth devoured mine. At last, with seeming reluctance, I drew away with a smile. I slowly stroked one hand up and down Julius’s arm as if I couldn’t bear to lose contact with him.

‘Your brother, is he a vampire too?’ I asked lightly.

‘Marco? Of course not! He stays away from this place. He loathes me.’

I glanced over to the window shutters again.

‘Why do you keep looking over there? That’s the third time in the last ten minutes.’

So he had noticed.

‘The sun will be up very soon.’

‘That’s the second time you’ve said that.’

I looked at him steadily. He didn’t miss much. I mustn’t make the mistake of underestimating him. ‘I’m worried.’

‘About what?’

‘About this house. Is it safe? Really safe?’

‘Of course. I told you. The windows—’

‘Not just the windows,’ I interrupted. ‘The door downstairs . . . is that safe?’

‘It has been – what is the word? – reinforced,’ Julius sought to reassure me.

‘Yes, but reinforced to protect against . . . ordinary humans, or reinforced to protect against other vampires?’

Julius frowned at me. ‘What is the matter?’

I chewed on my bottom lip nervously.

‘Tell me,’ he ordered.

‘Andrew . . .’ I bowed my head. ‘Andrew is after me. I think he might have followed me here. I need somewhere safe to stay but I don’t want to put you in danger.’

‘From Andrew?’ Julius laughed contemptuously. ‘I do not fear him.’

‘I do. Your door downstairs doesn’t look too solid. I think, to be on the safe side, I’d better go and look for somewhere else.’ Head still bowed, I raised my gaze to look up at Julius through my eyelashes. I said softly, ‘How I wish I could spend the day with you. Today and every day for as long as you wanted me. A man like you could teach me so many things . . .’

‘You cannot go now.’ Julius frowned. ‘The sun will rise in only a few minutes.’

‘I can’t stay here unless I know there’s no way Andrew can get to us. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.’

‘Come! Quickly! I will prove it to you.’ Julius took my hand and stood up, pulling me after him. I let him lead me out of the room, pausing on the landing to look at the door of the other room. It was silent now. ‘You and I will feed together tonight,’ he said, looking from the door to me.

‘If you don’t mind sharing.’ I grinned.

‘Sharing . . .’ Julius said the word like he was savouring it. ‘It has been a long time since I have shared anything with anyone.’

‘I will share . . . with you,’ I told him.

We regarded each other. Julius pulled me to him again, his lips on mine, his hands roaming all over my body, my back, my breasts, my neck, my hair. ‘Andrew is a fool,’ he told me when at last he broke off our kiss. He stroked my cheek with his ice-cold fingers. ‘And his loss is my gain. I will protect you.’

I smiled gratefully but didn’t reply.

‘Quick. Before the sun appears,’ Julius said urgently.

We went downstairs. The door was a solid, polished piece of wood; it didn’t even have panels. On the inside were two bolts, one above head height, the other at foot level. The lock was a standard one, but good quality. He opened the door, looking warily up at the lightening sky.

‘See! I spoke the truth.’ Julius pointed to the gap between the door and its frame. I looked at the hinges. They seemed new and sturdy enough. In the door itself, above and below each hinge, there were steel bolts that sat in holes in the frame when the door was shut.

I shook my head. ‘Andrew’s strong now, like you. This door won’t shut him out.’

‘Of course it will.’ Julius was getting impatient.

The sky was even lighter now. It frightened me too. Every hair on my body was prickling and alarm bells were ringing in my head. Every instinct shrieked at me to get inside. I couldn’t let the sun find me.

‘No, I don’t believe it will. I’ll leave now, Julius. I won’t be the one to put you in danger.’ I stepped forward to move past him.

‘Look! Shut the door and I will try to open it from the outside.’ Julius was getting angry. ‘Will that satisfy you?’

‘OK.’

I went back inside. The moment the door was shut I slid the bolts home and set the lock.

‘Try now,’ I called out.

The door shuddered as Julius rushed at it. ‘See! See! This door will not move, not even for me. It is made of ash and oak which makes us night-dwellers weak. Andrew will not get through it. Let me back in.’

‘Try it again.’

‘No!’ Julius was shouting now. ‘Jayna, let me in.’

‘No. Try again.’

Julius pushed and kicked at the door again. ‘Jayna, the sun is almost above the horizon. Let me in.’

Slowly, I backed away from the door.

‘Jayna . . . Jayna . . .’

‘Try one more time,’ I called out.

‘Jayna, let me in!’ Julius was practically screaming his panic now. He kept charging at the door like a demented rhino, but it didn’t budge.

‘JAYNA . . .’

‘I hope the sun fries your arse, you bastard!’ I yelled at him. ‘This is for destroying my life. This is for destroying the lives of all your victims. You bastard!’

‘Jayna . . . Open the door . . . I beg you . . .’

‘No. Never.’ I rubbed my hand over my lips, trying to eliminate all traces of every foul kiss he’d given me.

‘Jayna, the sun! The sun . . .’

‘Did you really think I’d let you touch me? Did you really think I’d want you, after what Andrew and I had together? What you took away from us?’ I spoke softly. It was an effort to force the words out past the pain in my chest and the sizeable lump in my throat. There was no need to shout. Julius would’ve heard me if I’d been several metres away.

Julius laughed. Just that. He started laughing. And the sound froze what was left of my soul. ‘See you in hell, Jayna. I will wait for you . . . in . . . hell . . .’ he whispered. Then came a sound I had never, ever heard before – a howl, like that of a wounded animal. There came a whooshing noise, then silence. I waited to feel some change, some difference. A return to normality. The return of my humanity.

Nothing.

I couldn’t wait any longer. I scrambled upstairs. The noise from the other room had started again, but I couldn’t stop. I ran into Julius’s room, slammed the door behind me and fell onto his bed, exhausted.

The sun had come up.

37

I WOKE THAT evening with a pounding head and a heavy heart. The memory of what had happened – what I’d done – came flooding back. I sat up slowly, then buried my head in my hands. Killing Julius hadn’t changed me back. It hadn’t changed a thing. I was still an abomination, a vampire.

And I’d killed someone.

‘You had no choice,’ I told myself, over and over.

It didn’t help. I told myself all sorts of things. Julius was a merciless killer, and yet he’d spared Andrew and me. Julius would have killed again if I hadn’t stopped him; nevertheless he was capable of compassion. Julius was me in twenty years or two hundred or two thousand years’ time. Maybe Julius was me in a matter of weeks, not years. Maybe. Was it really just a matter of time? And what then? Would someone put me out of my misery too?

Julius . . . There had been a time, after Andrew had left me to head home alone, when I’d really believed that Julius wasn’t my problem. Let someone else deal with him, I’d thought. Was that also what those who’d come into contact with him in the past had thought? Let someone else deal with him. Is that why the decades had passed and he had still been able to destroy lives?

Not my problem . . .

Really not my problem . . .

My problem now . . .

Wearily I stood up. I desperately needed to feed and even more desperately wished I didn’t have to. Pain, like a concrete block, sat in my chest. I longed to go back, back to before our holiday. Back to peace.

I stumbled out of the room and onto the landing. The door to the other room was locked, but the key was in the lock. I turned it and pulled open the door. A girl and a boy, both about my age or slightly older, threw themselves out of the room. If I hadn’t been so weak from hunger, I would have seen them coming from a kilometre away. As it was, I only just managed to step out of the way.

‘I’m not your enemy,’ I said quickly. ‘I’m not.’

The boy straightened up, pushing the girl behind him. I smiled at the gesture, then at them. The boy had light-brown hair and dark-brown, terrified eyes. He wore jeans and a sweatshirt, as did the girl. Her hair was darker, her eyes grey. I recognized the panic-stricken look in her eyes at once, just as I’d recognized their cries and pleas for help the previous night when I’d entered Julius’s house. He’d ruined my life. I couldn’t let him do the same to anyone else.

‘Are you all right? He didn’t hurt you?’ I glanced down at their wrists. No marks. I examined their necks. No marks, at least none that I could see.

Their necks . . .

I was hungry. So hungry.

‘You let us go?’ the boy asked incredulously.

‘Of course. Go on! Leave!’

‘Before he returns?’

I nodded. I was starving. And they were so close . . . and weak.

‘Quick! Before he returns. Go to the police. Now!’

Without another word they tore down the stairs and out the door. I followed. I had to feed before I passed out. Once outside, I looked up at the dark sky. It was going to rain. What was I thinking? The rain had started already, but I just hadn’t noticed until too late.

38

COMING BACK TO London after almost a fortnight was a mistake. I knew that from the onset, but it was the closest I’d been to happiness since I had travelled abroad to see Julius. It was my eighteenth birthday, but I had nothing to celebrate. What was the point when so many more of them stretched out before me like a never-ending road? Besides, I had more important things on my mind. There were so many things to do and so little time to do them in. After seeing Mum and Teegan, the first thing I would do was find Andrew. We had to establish a truce. I had to persuade him that we were dangerous. Too dangerous to be permanently around humans. Would he see things my way?

What if he didn’t? I asked myself. What then?

So many things had gone wrong already, but this wouldn’t. We didn’t have to be together – I knew it was too late for that – but Andrew must see that we should go somewhere where we wouldn’t be a threat to those around us. Being with Julius for that short period had cleared my head on a number of things. It was time to face the truth. For the sake of what we once had . . . for the sake of what we’d once been, I couldn’t and wouldn’t let Andrew turn me into another Julius.

But I was scared . . . No, petrified! I could admit that without feeling like a coward. I had to make Andrew understand. Julius was a warning, a live warning of how much further there was to fall. It was time to take control. We both needed to say ‘this far and no further’. Andrew was mine to persuade and I couldn’t afford to fail.

But first I had to see my mum and my sister. I desperately wanted to see them all again.

One last time.

I walked down the street that led towards the Burger Bar, gazing at every house, every shop, and grinning inanely. In spite of all that had happened here, it still felt like home. I stood and closed my eyes, breathing deeply. Carbon monoxide and pollution, but the air had never smelled sweeter. I could even smell the Burger Bar’s greasy chips from halfway up the street. I had time before I went home to call in there. I couldn’t wait to see the look on Diane’s face when I saw her again, or the look on all my friends’ faces. All my friends except for Pete, I reminded myself, and guilt flooded through me.

No, I wouldn’t stay very long. I wanted to spend most of tonight with Mum anyway . . . and we needed to talk. I needed to make sure someone knew the whole truth. Someone who still cared about me. It was dangerous, I knew, but I wouldn’t give in until I made her believe me. Made her realize I wasn’t joking. I sighed and opened my eyes, and was just about to start walking again when I saw him.

Morgan.

And he saw me. He was at one end of the street and I was at the other. Neither of us moved.

‘So you’re back,’ I heard him utter to himself.

I realized I was holding my breath and let it out with a hiss. Morgan was standing under a street lamp so his face was illuminated. I tried to focus on his eyes. They still held the human spark that mine now lacked.

So Andrew hadn’t made him one of us. Morgan smiled secretly and turned round to walk back the way he’d come. I let him go. I wanted nothing to do with him. Andrew was my concern, not him.

I took a few more steps towards the Burger Bar, but it was as if a light inside me had dimmed. Seeing Morgan again made me pause. Maybe I shouldn’t see my friends again. I didn’t want to put them in danger. Better to leave things the way they were. And what would I say if they asked me about Pete? What would they think about me vanishing for nearly two weeks just after he’d been killed? Maybe I should just go and see Mum and Teegan, then seek out Andrew.

I turned and went the long way home via the park. I jumped over the railing and sat on the swings in the children’s playground, kicking myself slowly backwards and forwards for a few minutes. It’d be the last time I did that too.

Time to figure out exactly what to say to Mum. Nothing came into my head. Over the last week, all I’d thought about was Andrew and what we would say to each other. I tried to imagine all the scenarios, like planning chess moves in my head – and I was crap at chess. My dreams of what it could be like when I finally caught up with Andrew fought with the likely reality . . . and reality haunted me mercilessly.

Ah, but in my dreams, Andrew and I held each other with no more doubts and misunderstandings between us. I would look into his eyes, he would look into mine . . .

‘I want to wake up and find this has all been a dream. The worst dream of my life,’ I say. ‘I want to wake up to find that there are no such things as vampires, except in feature films and fiction books. I want life back.’

‘Every time I go to sleep, I hope for the same thing,’ Andrew says sadly. ‘I think to myself, when I wake up it’ll be day. But it never is. It’s always night.’

‘I miss the day – sunshine on my back, rooftops against a blue sky, shadows caused by sunlight . . .’

‘I miss . . . feelings.’ Andrew moves towards me. ‘I miss being really happy or really sad. I don’t feel anything any more, except for you. Only you.’

‘Hatred?’

Andrew shakes his head. ‘I could never hate you.’

He smiles at me. I smile back. We move closer together, clinging onto what we had.

‘Our capacity to sympathize, to empathize, is dying,’ I murmur. ‘And it’ll get worse, won’t it? There’ll come a time when no one and nothing will matter. Killing others won’t matter because we can’t die. Life won’t matter because we can live for ever. It’s started already, hasn’t it?’

Andrew holds me. I hug him back. I’ll never let him go again.

‘I’m sorry, Jayna.’

‘I’m sorry, Andrew.’

We walk off to greet the sunrise together . . .

With a sigh, I opened my eyes. Nothing but a fantasy, that’s all it was. A wonderful daydream. I got up and set off for home. Reality stinks, I thought sadly. But soon I’d see Mum and Teegan again. The reality of that would have to hold me for years to come.

Within three streets of Mum’s house, I heard screaming: ‘Teegan! Oh my God! Teegan is still in there!’ The fear and panic in Mum’s voice set me running immediately. I was there within seconds. And what I saw brought me to an abrupt halt.

Our house was on fire. Hungry orange and yellow flames belched out of both the bedrooms at the front of the house. I could feel the intense heat even from where I was standing. An immense crack and the windows in the living room blew outwards. Flames licked out of that room and up the front of our home.

‘Mum . . . Mum!’ I shouted as I ran towards her.

Mum turned her head as she heard me call. She looked as though she’d aged ten years since I’d last seen her. Her eyes were huge, wild, her shoulders drooped forwards. Her neck muscles were taut.

‘Mum . . .’ I whispered as I drew near to her.

‘Jayna, Teegan is in there! I couldn’t get her out. She’s still in her bedroom . . .’

Mrs Tout put an arm round Mum’s shoulders. They were both crying. Quite a crowd had gathered by now and there was panic and pandemonium as Mr Travis, one of our neighbours, tried to get near the house but was beaten back by the flames. There were cries for the fire brigade, the police and an ambulance.

‘I’ll get her out,’ I said to Mum. I raced towards the house.

‘Jayna, no!’

Ignoring her, I battered on the door with my fists. It gave way immediately. The heat was intense and shocking black smoke rushed to meet me, but I could just about bear it. For the very first time I was profoundly grateful for what I now was, for the strength it gave me. But I couldn’t be complacent. Fire was my enemy.

‘I’m coming, Teegan!’

I dashed up the stairs, coughing until my lungs stung and my eyes wept. Flames ate at the banisters and snatched at my jacket, setting it alight. I pulled it off as I ran and flung it behind me.

At the top of the house, the fire was creeping towards Teegan’s bedroom at the back. Smoke was everywhere. I ran straight to her room and kicked the door in – the smoke had reached there already and it hung in the air, swirling like some demonic cloud. Through the haze I could see my sister huddled under the window at the other side of the room. Her breathing was laboured, heavy. Running over to her, I picked her up. She lay limp, a puppet with its strings cut.

‘Teegan . . .’ I cradled her against me. ‘Oh, Teegan, hang on. I’ll get you out of here.’

I tried to go back the way I’d come, but the flames were whipping around outside the door. I could stand the flames for long enough to run through them, but there was no way that Teegan could. Think, Jayna! I tried to calm my mounting panic. Should I try to make it to the bathroom? I could douse Teegan in water once there to protect her from the flames until I could make it out of the house. But I still had to get through the raging fire outside her room first. And that I couldn’t risk. I heard an ominous series of cracks, followed by the sound of falling and it took only a few seconds to realize that the top of the staircase was collapsing. There was only one thing I could do now.

I put Teegan over my shoulder, her face against my back, and pushed against the window with one hand. It was shut fast with paint and there were specks of blood on the upper frame where Teegan had obviously tried to open the window, damaging her hands in the process. Angrily, I pushed harder. I thought I would have to put my fist through the glass, but luckily it didn’t come to that. The window flew open.

I climbed out onto the window ledge. Taking a deep breath, I threw myself into the air and landed on my two feet in the back garden seconds later. I turned Teegan round to check on her immediately. Her warm breath fanned my cheek and I could hear her heart beating, slow but steady. I gasped with relief – she was still alive. Holding her tightly, I walked down the path to the side gate. Three steps, and my knees almost buckled under me. Suddenly weary to the point of exhaustion – I hadn’t fed since the previous night and my energy was low – I forced myself to keep walking. Opening the gate, I walked out of the front garden and onto the street. I saw Mum – still staring frantically at the burning house. I tried walking towards her, but my knees gave out under me. I tried to call, but my throat felt as if I’d swallowed gravel.

All I wanted to do was cry.

‘There she is!’ someone in the crowd shouted.

Mrs Tout turned her head, then pointed. Mum followed the direction of our neighbour’s finger and I tried to smile. Mum dashed across the road towards me, fell to her knees and took Teegan out of my aching and burned hands, smothering my sister with kisses and rocking her back and forth as she begged Teegan to wake up. Where was the ambulance? Had somebody phoned for one? I looked past her at all the people watching our house burn.

And that’s when I saw them.

Morgan and Andrew were standing together, but a little apart from the rest of the crowd, watching me. And then I knew with absolute certainty why our house was on fire. I struggled to my feet, an action which took all the energy I had left. It was as if everyone else in the world had disappeared. There was no sight, no sound – nothing but Morgan and Andrew. And there was no mistaking the expression on their faces. I returned it tenfold.

I hated them.

I hated them with every breath that I took and every cell in my body. I hated Morgan for his insults and his narrow mind and his stupidity, but most of all I hated Andrew. ‘My’ Andrew. Blood drinker, vampire, murderer. He’d wanted me to share in all he was and all he could be? Well, he’d succeeded. I loathed him.

‘Jayna, are you all right? Is Teegan all right?’ Mrs Tout appeared, blocking my view. She was laughing and crying all at once, hugging me to her as if she’d never let me go. Teegan began to cough fitfully, her eyes still closed. In the distance I heard the wail of approaching sirens.

‘We’re fine, Mrs Tout,’ I whispered. I looked over her shoulder, but Andrew and Morgan had gone. ‘Just fine.’

But I thought, OK, Andrew – you win. If it’s a war you want, then it’s a war you’ve got.

39

‘JAYNA, YOUR EARS are stuck in your backside!’ Mum stormed.

‘Mum, I didn’t want to stay overnight at the hospital, taking up a bed. And I am not going back for a check-up in the morning. I feel fine,’ I argued for the umpteenth time.

‘I still don’t know how you did it.’ Mrs Tout shook her head as she brought in yet another pot of tea.

It was after midnight now and we’d gone back to Mrs Tout’s. The fire brigade had finally put out the fire but most of the upstairs of our house was gutted. They and the police were still shifting through the debris to find out what had caused the blaze.

An ambulance had taken us all to hospital. Teegan was fine, but they’d decided to keep her in overnight for observation, and we had left her sleeping peacefully. I had superficial burns to my hands and arms and the A & E doctors had suggested keeping me in hospital too, but I wouldn’t let them. How could I? I needed desperately to feed. And besides, how could I explain that already, beneath my bandages, my skin was knitting together and healing. It was a peculiar sensation, like being pricked by many blunt needles. And once I’d fed again, my skin would heal faster still. Then there was the little matter of hiding from the daylight in a hospital ward . . .

Mum – still in shock from what had happened and just to stop me whining – had signed for me to come home, though I realized later that as I was now eighteen, this hadn’t strictly been necessary, but even so she still felt she should have insisted I stay. Mrs Tout had taken over as soon as we got into her house, which had given me time for a quick trip out into her back garden where I managed to quickly feed on a squirrel and a cat with no collar, just so I looked healthy again. The last thing I wanted was for Mum to be anxious about me on top of worrying about Teegan and our ruined house.

‘I still don’t understand how it could’ve happened so quickly. I was listening to music in the kitchen and drinking a cup of coffee. Teegan was in her room watching a film on her DVD player. The next thing I knew, the whole of the upstairs was on fire and the flames were spreading down the stairs. If anything had happened to either of you . . .’ She shuddered.

‘But it didn’t,’ Mrs Tout said firmly. ‘So don’t go brooding over what never happened.’

I could’ve kissed our neighbour. She was in her element now that she had someone to look after. I glanced across at her television, which was surrounded by a plethora of photographs of her husband who had died in a hit and run incident some years ago. I thought of all the photos Mum kept of Dad and remembered the time just after he’d died. Mum hadn’t said much, but I’d heard her crying, night after night.

Dad had died of pancreatic cancer and I remembered too how, just after his funeral – when she thought she was alone – Mum had taken off her wedding ring and thrown it at the living-room wall, silent tears streaming down her face.

It’s strange the things that stick in your mind. Like, if I lived to be one thousand, I’d never forget tonight and seeing Morgan and Andrew watching me. Morgan’s look of mocking satisfaction I could dismiss for what it was. But it was Andrew’s look of hatred as he viewed me that would always stay with me.

‘Are you sure you’re all right, Jayna?’ Mrs Tout asked. I nodded. ‘Now, you can all stay with me until the insurance comes through so you can get your place renovated,’ our neighbour said firmly.

‘Paula, I don’t want to impose. We can stay in a hotel. I have the money,’ Mum protested.

‘Nonsense! Why throw good money away? I have plenty of room, and you know how much I’d enjoy the company.’

‘I know.’ Mum smiled.

Mum and Mrs Tout sipped at their tea, and I pretended to sip at mine. I was loath to break the companionable silence but I had to. Bracing myself, I drank down the tea, wincing as the liquid burned its way down to my stomach. Anything but blood always burned its way painfully through me.

‘Mrs Tout, any chance of another cup of tea?’ I asked.

‘Of course, dear. You’re beginning to look much better now! Hand me your cup and I’ll go and get you one.’ Mrs Tout bustled out of the room, pleased to have something to do.

‘What’s the matter?’ Mum asked me quietly.

‘You wouldn’t believe me even if I did tell you.’

‘You said that once before.’

‘And I was right. You didn’t believe me.’

Mum frowned at me. Then she gave me a puzzled smile. ‘You always were a strange child, Jayna. I could live to be a hundred and still not understand you.’

‘I take after you, then, don’t I?’ I teased.

Mum and I smiled together. It was kind of amazing that we could do so after everything that had happened between us.

‘Happy birthday for yesterday, by the way,’ said Mum, her smile fading.

‘It wasn’t a happy birthday,’ I replied. ‘When I think of what could’ve happened to Teegan . . . Suppose I hadn’t got her out of our house in time—’

‘But you did,’ said Mum. ‘Jayna, don’t dwell on what might have been. Life is too short.’

I nodded, more to placate Mum than for any other reason. She was wrong. I had the rest of eternity to dwell on what might have been.

‘I’ve been so worried about you,’ she said. ‘You went away for such a long time. You seemed to disappear into thin air.’

‘Mum, I was only gone for two weeks and I did phone you once I got my new mobile.’

‘It’s not the same.’

‘I guess not.’ I sighed.

‘And you’re going away again, aren’t you.’ It wasn’t a question.

‘I have to, Mum.’ I lowered my head.

‘Are you going away with Andrew?’

‘Please don’t ask me any more questions. Just know that I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to.’ I looked up at her. ‘You were right about a lot of things, but please don’t say “I told you so”.’ And like a dam cracking, I gave in to everything I was feeling and started to cry.

Mum stared, her eyes wide.

‘What’s the matter? You’ve seen me cry before,’ I sniffed.

She stood up and walked over to me. She placed a finger under my left eye and a single teardrop ran onto it.

A single teardrop of blood.

‘Jayna . . .?’

A sob escaped my lips when I saw her look of absolute horror. ‘I’m a vampire, Mum. What I told you before about Andrew and what happened in Fipoli was the truth . . .’ Unable to bear the way she was staring at me any longer, I turned and ran out of the house and into the night.

40

Andrew,

I’m sure you want to see me as badly as I want to see you. I will be at the deserted office building on the corner of Acre Road and Oliver Street tomorrow night at ten thirty. Don’t bring anyone else. They’d only get hurt.

Jayna

I READ AND re-read what I’d written. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. It would get him there. Then I pressed SEND to fire off my text message to him.

Funny how nothing ever happened the way you thought or hoped it would. Even when I came back from Fipoli the second time, I’d still hoped that the situation between Andrew and me could somehow be salvaged. Now I knew that was impossible. I hadn’t looked for it and I hadn’t wanted it, but Andrew and I were at war. A war between two vampires.

And we had one final battle to fight – a battle I couldn’t afford to lose. Maybe I’d come home too late? Maybe I should never have left? All I knew was that Andrew was evil. He was dangerous and he’d never leave my family alone now. Well, if he wanted me so badly, he could have me.

Fifteen minutes later, after a decent feed, I allowed myself to fade out and started walking. Fading took a lot of energy but I didn’t want to be seen by anyone, not tonight. When I faded I became little more than a shadow in the dark. It meant I could come and go as I pleased, unnoticed and undisturbed. Somehow my feet found their way to Andrew’s. I stood across the street, looking up at the Harrison house and calling myself all kinds of a fool for even risking it. After twenty or thirty minutes, Morgan came out of his house and headed for the gate.

‘Jayna, I know you’re out there,’ he called.

I said nothing, but allowed myself to fade into view. Morgan spotted me almost at once. I tilted my head to look at him, wondering how I’d ever let him get to me. He was nothing. Insignificant. An ignorant bigot, led on by his brother.

‘Andrew’s not here. You’re welcome to come in and wait for him,’ Morgan suggested silkily.

‘No, thank you.’

We regarded each other. The hostility in Morgan’s expression bounced right off me. His hatred was his problem, not mine.

‘I just got a message from Andrew,’ he said. ‘He says you suggested a meeting place for tomorrow.’

‘What about it?’

‘Both of us will meet you, but not where you suggested.’

‘Where then?’

‘Right here.’

‘At your house?’

‘Yes.’

‘What about your parents?’ I asked.

Morgan’s eyes narrowed. ‘The house will be all ours. Mum and Dad have gone on a cruise while Mum recuperates from her . . . accident.’ He said the final word sarcastically.

Lucky Mrs Harrison, able to take off to warmer climes until she healed. Was there anywhere on the planet where I could go to do the same?

I shrugged. ‘Fine with me.’

‘Tomorrow, then. Ten thirty,’ said Morgan.

I’d had enough of Morgan’s presence. I started walking away.

‘And Jayna . . .?’

‘What?’ I didn’t look back.

‘If you don’t turn up then we’ll come and get you. Understand?’

I turned round. ‘Morgan, you mean absolutely nothing to me. I don’t want anything to do with you,’ I said evenly. ‘But don’t push your luck.’

I don’t know whether it was my words or my tone that got to Morgan, but something did and he backed away from me. I carried on walking and his front door didn’t slam shut until I was halfway down the street.

41

I AWOKE THE moment the sun sank below the horizon. I’d slept in the one place I’d thought Andrew wouldn’t try to find me: the wreck of my own home. The previous night, when I was sure that I wasn’t being followed, I’d gone back to what was now our charred and sopping wet house and crept into the cupboard under the stairs. I thought it probable that Andrew would get Morgan to try and find me during the day. That way they could jump me, but they wouldn’t succeed.

I’d meet with Andrew on my own terms.

They shouldn’t have burned out our house. They shouldn’t have put Teegan in danger. My sister was still in hospital and the doctors wanted to keep her in for another night – smoke inhalation needed careful monitoring, apparently. When I’d phoned to check on her progress, they’d promised me that she would be all right, but that didn’t even begin to lessen the relentless fury I felt at what had happened to her.

The first thing I did was feed. I needed strength. Then I hid in the darkest shadows of our garden, contemplating how my night would unfold. I knew what had to be done and where I had to be at every minute of every hour.

The second thing I did was pop round to use Mrs Tout’s shower. Mum was there. She put down the toilet lid and sat on it whilst I showered, and we talked awkwardly about everyday stuff and nothing in particular. Odd, embarrassed silences littered our conversation. There was so much I wanted to say but couldn’t. So much she clearly wanted to ask but couldn’t.

‘The police told me how the fire was started,’ Mum said after another of the pauses.

‘Oh yes?’ I poked my head out from behind the shower curtain. ‘How?’

‘Someone threw a brick through your window and followed it up with a Molotov cocktail. The moment the bottle smashed, with all your books and clothes on the floor, your room went up like kindling.’

‘I see. I thought it had to be something like that,’ I mumbled, returning behind the curtain.

‘Who would do such a thing? It’s so despicable!’

‘Don’t worry, Mum. They’ll pay.’

‘So you know who was responsible?’ she asked sharply.

‘I never said that,’ I replied.

‘Jayna, I’m not an idiot, so please don’t treat me like one,’ sighed Mum.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I just . . . this is something I need to sort out for myself.’

‘Does this have something to do with you and Andrew?’ asked Mum quietly. ‘And the fact that you cry tears of blood?’

A lie or the truth? ‘Yes, Mum, it does.’

Silence.

‘What exactly happened to you, Jayna?’ asked Mum.

‘Whilst we were on holiday, Andrew and I went somewhere we shouldn’t with someone we shouldn’t’ve and this is the result.’ I tried to be flip but that was a spectacular failure.

‘So what you told me before was . . . the truth?’ Mum whispered. ‘Oh, Jayna, w-when was the last time you s-saw the sun?’ She was barely able to get the words out.

‘Too long ago to even remember.’

Turning off the water, I pulled a bath towel down from the shower curtain rail and wrapped it firmly around myself before drawing back the shower curtain. And then I sat down on the edge of the tub, my towel wrapped around my body, and told her more – told her how Andrew had changed me to be with him, of all the things I could no longer do. She’d worked out most of it for herself, but found it so incredible that she still hadn’t truly believed me – well, not until she’d seen my lack of a proper reflection in the bathroom mirror and a few more of my ruby tears . . .

‘And . . . Pete? Was that . . . Andrew?’ Mum’s voice was barely a whisper. At the look on my face, she shrank back. ‘Jayna, let me go to the police . . .’ she urged.

‘What would you tell them, Mum?’ I said with a sigh. ‘How would you explain what Andrew and I are now? How would you keep me safe when the police would insist on questioning me well into the morning? And nothing can bring Pete back now. All I can do is try and make sure it never happens again . . .’

Mum and I looked at each other, and she was more than unhappy; she was heart-broken.

‘I made this mess, Mum. I thought I knew what I was doing and I didn’t have a clue, but it’s my mess to clean up, not yours. That’s where I’m going tonight. To sort it out.’

Wearily, Mum rose to her feet. ‘Oh, darling, I hope you know what you’re doing.’

‘I do, Mum. Trust me, I finally do.’

Eventually, she left the room, misery hanging around her like a shroud. After moisturizing my skin, I slipped on the new black T-shirt and black jeans that I’d asked Mum to buy for me during the day when she was shopping for herself – as almost all of our clothes had been destroyed in the fire. At last I was ready. I headed downstairs. Mum was waiting for me in the hall.

‘Where will you be sleeping tonight?’ she asked.

‘I’m not sure, but don’t worry, I’ll find somewhere safe.’ I opened the front door.

‘Oh, Jayna, don’t go seeking revenge. Revenge has a habit of rebounding.’

That was a lesson I’d learned the hard way, but there was no going back now. ‘I’ll remember that,’ I said, forcing a smile. ‘See you, Mum. Say hello to Teegan for me. Tell her she’s a ratbag. Tell her I love her very much.’

Unexpectedly, Mum hugged me. ‘Please take care of yourself, Jayna. I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Mum, I love you too.’ I spoke quietly.

I didn’t wait to see her face or hear her reply. One look at her and my resolve would vanish. I stepped out onto the front path, closing the door firmly after me.

Behind me, very softly, with an innate stillness, I heard my mum begin to cry. I bowed my head. I wanted to go back into the house and hug her and never come out, but I didn’t. Instead I walked through the gate, forcing myself not to look back. I headed for the station, for the train to take me into town. I had things to buy and prepare before I could do anything else. Then I’d go and see Diane. I needed her help too. One way or another, tonight would see a resolution to the mess I’d made of my life.

42

DIANE STOOD OUTSIDE the Harrison household listening to the sound of heavy footsteps approaching across the hardwood floor of the hall. The door opened.

‘Hi, Morgan. Is Andrew home?’

‘He’s busy at the moment,’ Morgan replied tersely. ‘It’s . . . it’s Diane, isn’t it?’

‘That’s right. Could you tell Andrew I’m here, please. It’s really important. About . . . Jayna.’

‘Who is it, Morgan?’ Andrew came down the stairs.

‘Hi, Andrew. It’s me.’ Diane smiled. ‘Can I speak to you in private?’

‘Can’t it wait?’ Andrew said impatiently.

Diane shook her head.

‘Oh, all right.’ Andrew took his brother’s place at the door. ‘What is it, Diane?’ he asked warily.

From my position on the roof of the house three doors down from Andrew’s home, I could hear everything but I could only see Diane. I didn’t want to risk getting any closer in case Andrew heard me.

‘I’ve got a message from Jayna,’ Diane began slowly.

Get it right, Diane, I prayed silently. I’d had a real job getting her to help me in the first place, especially since I’d refused to tell her what was going on. That was for her own protection . . . the less she knew, the better. How could I tell her what I was now? What Andrew was? After explaining it to Mum, I couldn’t bear to go through it all a second time. And I felt I’d never be able to tell my friends the truth about Pete’s death.

Finally, reluctantly, Diane had stopped asking me to tell her what was happening and agreed to help me. But it had taken a lot of persuasion.

Now Diane said to Andrew, ‘Jayna wants to meet you at the original rendezvous – she said you’d know where that is. She wants to talk to you. Just you, and just talk. She wants to call a truce.’

Silence.

‘And if I say no?’ Andrew asked at last.

‘You have to take that up with her.’ Diane shrugged. ‘I’m just delivering the message. Are you two having some sort of trouble?’

I would have laughed except I was annoyed with her. I hadn’t told her to add that question.

‘Just a minute. I’ll get my jacket,’ Andrew said after another pause.

I didn’t even dare to breathe a sigh of relief. Andrew went back indoors and as Diane walked down the path to the gate, he emerged from the house, now wearing his black leather jacket over a light-grey T-shirt, dark trousers and trainers.

‘Morgan, I’m going out. I’ll be back soon,’ he yelled over his shoulder.

Morgan emerged from wherever to stand on the doorstep. He grabbed Andrew’s arm and pulled him back. ‘You can’t go out now. What if Jayna turns up here?’ he whispered. The anger in his voice couldn’t hide his fear – and I was glad of it.

‘She won’t. She wants me to meet her in the office building she talked about in her letter,’ Andrew replied softly.

‘You’re not really going, are you? It’s obviously a trap.’

‘I’ll take that chance.’

‘And if she does come here?’

‘Why should she? It’s me she wants. I just want all this to be over.’

‘You didn’t see the way she looked at me yesterday,’ hissed Morgan.

So, not quite as brave as he liked to make out. I hadn’t credited him with that much sense.

‘Relax, Morgan. I promise you, Jayna wants only me,’ said Andrew.

‘You two are being very mysterious. What’s going on?’ Diane called from the gate.

My God, but she was nosy. No one answered. Andrew shrugged out of his brother’s grasp and headed for Diane.

‘I wish someone would tell me what’s going on,’ Diane complained. ‘Jayna didn’t explain and you two aren’t saying much either. Honestly!’

‘Andrew, let me come with you,’ Morgan said insistently.

‘No.’ Andrew shook his head, heading back to him. ‘I didn’t want you to stay in the house anyway. This is between Jayna and me.’

‘I have to look out for you. You’re my brother.’

‘Thanks, but I’ll be fine,’ said Andrew. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘If anything happens to you . . .’

‘It won’t.’

‘If anything does, I’ll find her. If it takes the rest of my life, I’ll find her and make her pay,’ Morgan said, but for his brother’s ears only.

‘You fuss too much.’ Andrew pushed his brother’s shoulder. ‘You’re turning into Mum!’ Morgan made a face but didn’t say anything. ‘I’ll see you,’ Andrew said.

Not at all happy but unable to do anything about it, Morgan went back into his house, closing the front door behind him. I watched and waited as Diane and Andrew turned right and headed along the street.

It was time for me to make my first move.

43

I WATCHED ANDREW walk away, an inexplicable sense of loss clutching at me. He’d been mine once, we’d been good together. But that was over now.

‘Shall I come?’ Diane asked.

‘To where?’ Andrew asked lightly.

‘To wherever it is you’re going.’

‘Diane, stop rubber-necking! This is between Jayna and me.’

‘She’s my friend too,’ Diane said stubbornly. ‘And there’s something not right going on here . . .’

‘Diane, go home. I’ll see you tomorrow night.’

‘Oh, all right, then,’ she said reluctantly. ‘If you need me, you know where I live.’

‘Yeah! The Burger Bar.’

Diane laughed. ‘Got it in one!’

I waited for them to turn the corner. Then I ran and jumped until I was on the Harrisons’ roof. As the skylight was shut, I tiptoed down the sloping slates towards the back of the house, swinging myself down to the window ledge of one of the back bedrooms, a room which Mrs Harrison used as a sewing room. I tried the window but it was locked.

So what now? I wasn’t going to let a locked window stop me. I could easily crash through it but I wanted to keep the element of surprise on my side. I shifted my position slightly and studied the window. With each movement, the weapon slung across my back rocked into me. I tried re-adjusting its position but it made little difference. Pursing my lips, I forced myself to focus on the first task before me: opening the window.

Holding onto the guttering with one hand, I tried to push slowly against the glass. It creaked ominously. I clenched my fists with frustration, my fingernails digging into my palms. Fingernails . . . It was worth a try. Still using my left hand to hold onto the guttering, I used the fingernail of the index finger of my right hand to draw around the window lever. It made a definite impression, like a glass cutter. I worked around my semicircle again and then a third time. It was just about ready to drop out now. I took a deep breath. The next bit would take fast work. I pushed the glass, and as it gave way I dropped my hand under it to catch it before it could shatter on the floor. It had worked.

And I hadn’t made any noise. I slipped my hand through the hole in the glass and opened the window, then stepped silently inside.

Now to find Morgan.

Andrew’s brother was in the kitchen, drinking beer from a bottle. I stood still in the doorway and watched him as he drank, his back to me. Halfway through a gigantic swig, he lowered the bottle suddenly. Every muscle in his body tensed and his head turned just ahead of the rest of his body. I thought the look on his face when he realized that he was alone in the house with me would bring me something. Satisfaction. Gratification. Something. But I felt nothing.

‘Hello, Morgan,’ I said quietly.

‘Andrew isn’t here.’ Morgan’s tone was sharp.

‘I know. I’m here to see you.’

Morgan’s lips thinned, his face grew pale. When would I start to enjoy this? He suddenly made a break for the cutlery drawer. I didn’t move.

‘I like your BFK, but do you know how ridiculous you look?’ I said as he brought out a big, frickin’ carving knife with a blade at least twenty-five centimetres long.

Morgan sprang, obviously deciding that attack was the best form of defence. He swung the knife, but to my eyes he was moving in slow motion and I saw the knife coming with no trouble at all. I grabbed his wrist and squeezed until I heard bones crack. He howled in agony and dropped the knife. It clattered onto the tiled floor.

‘This is the part where you run . . .’ I instructed. ‘Go on. Run!’

And, like the coward he was, he did. Had our roles been reversed, I would never have given him that satisfaction. I listened. He was at the front door now, trying to open it, and I waited until I heard it open before I moved. I was there in a second – Morgan wasn’t even aware of my presence until I shoved the front door shut before he had it even halfway open.

‘Oh no, you don’t,’ I told him. ‘You didn’t open the front door when you tried to burn my mum and sister alive in our house.’

Morgan shrank against the wall behind him. ‘We . . . we thought your mum was out at your neighbour’s house. I rang the doorbell, there was no answer . . .’ His voice was uneven now, panic-stricken.

‘So you were involved. I wasn’t sure. Thanks for letting me know.’

Morgan stared, realizing what he’d just revealed. I grabbed hold of the front of his shirt and lifted him up until his feet were way off the ground.

‘So it was my sister you wanted to kill?’

‘No! Andrew was furious. He wasn’t listening properly. He just wanted your attention. We didn’t know your mum and sister were in the house, I swear. It was a mistake.’ Morgan’s words tumbled over themselves in his panic. ‘We thought the house was empty or that only you were in there. It was just meant to be a warning. We thought—’

‘Don’t think, Morgan. It only gets you into trouble.’

‘Jayna, listen—’

I threw him away from me and he sailed through the air to land with a colossal thud halfway up the stairs. He groaned with immediate pain.

‘Morgan, run,’ I said softly, taking my time as I walked towards him.

He looked at me, his eyes pleading as his mouth could or would not.

‘Run . . .’ I whispered.

He took off up the stairs. This game I was playing revolted me. All at once I just wanted to end it. I climbed wearily up the stairs after Morgan.

‘Andrew!’ Morgan screamed. ‘Andrew, help me!’ He ran into his bedroom, locking the door behind him, but one kick from me brought the door completely off its hinges and Morgan and I stood there watching each other.

‘Your mother was an accident,’ I said quietly. ‘But you won’t be.’

‘Please . . .’ he pleaded.

‘Shh!’ I put my finger over my lips as I walked towards him. Then I pinned him against the wall, my hand against his chest. With my other hand I lifted his wrist to my mouth, looking straight into his terror-filled eyes.

But I couldn’t do it.

Go on, Jayna. He deserves it. This is your chance for revenge, a voice inside me said. Drink his blood and watch him die . . . Go on, Jayna . . .

I played the whole scene again in my head, just as I’d imagined it, over and over.

I bite. And drink, feeling Morgan’s heartbeat race faster and become more frantic under my hand. He struggles but it’s useless.

And still I drink.

Until at last I am the only thing keeping Morgan on his feet. I release him. He slips slowly down the wall and onto the floor. His blood, still warm upon my lips, trickles down my chin. Licking wet lips, I relish the sweet metallic taste. It burns through me, warming my stomach. Liquid fire, burning its way through my entire body like expensive brandy. I pull Morgan to his feet. His head droops like a dying flower. His heartbeat is almost one continuous throb now, as his heart tries frantically to pump the little blood that remains within him around his body. I pull him to me, my mouth seeking a particular part of his neck. I bite hard, then again, deeper. But not to drink. I am sated. I let go of him. Immediately, he falls to the floor, blood gushing from his neck, but not for long.

His heart slows. His heart stops . . .

A wonderful dream. But that was all it was.

‘You’re lucky, Morgan. You’ll never know quite how lucky.’ I released his wrist and took my hand away from his chest, away from his racing heart. ‘I want to hurt you. I want to hurt you so much, like you’ve hurt me and mine. You’re scum, Morgan. But if I kill you, I’m no better than you and Andrew. And I am better.’

Morgan’s eyes were still wild, fearful. I doubted if he even knew what I was saying, but I leaned closer to make sure he took in my next words.

‘You’re going to phone the police in the morning – give yourself up for the attack on my mum’s house. Or I’ll be back, I promise you. But just for now, I owe you this.’ I slapped him, not as hard as I could, but hard enough. He flew across the room to whack into the opposite wall at speed, then crumpled up and hit the deck. He was out before he hit the floor – but he was alive.

Then I heard it. There . . . I raised my head and listened. A noise, grating and sharp, came from downstairs. Wood against wood. A window being carefully, cautiously opened.

Andrew.

He was doing his best not to make a sound but I heard him anyway. Did he really think I wouldn’t? Or did he think I’d be too busy with his brother to notice anything else? So he’d heard his brother’s cry for help . . . Not that that mattered now. I stopped breathing and turned my head to listen. I heard the slight scrape of his trainers against the wood of the windowsill.

He’d come for me.

The window fell shut, the sound echoing throughout the house. I heard Andrew’s soft curse.

With sad pleasure, I thought, At least now, it’ll all be over. The final moments in this farce that was Andrew and me had come at last.

44

MY FINGERS SHAKING, I unhooked the loaded crossbow resting against my back. Once again, I checked to ensure that the safety catch was on. It was a small crossbow, only about thirty-two or thirty-three centimetres in length, its handle fashioned in the same manner as the handle of a gun. I tried to remember the proper name for a gun handle. The stock? But what did I know? I loathed weapons.

The woman in the outdoor activities shop had been very enthusiastic when she’d showed me how it worked. ‘It’s the very latest model. Safety catch, of course, a trigger mechanism, a two-stage sight . . .’ She had come out from behind the counter to show me how it all worked.

At first I’d watched her talking rather than look at the crossbow. The two men serving behind the counter wore faded jeans and T-shirts and she wore an Army combat jacket, khaki trousers and Timberland boots. I’d wondered if she thought that was the only way prospective customers would take her seriously.

Then I’d turned my attention to the crossbow. It took a good five minutes before I could summon up the courage to hold the thing. It was lighter in weight than I’d thought it would be. Lighter and colder.

‘It also comes with six bolts in their own case,’ the shop assistant continued. ‘May I ask what it’s for?’

‘It’s a present.’

‘I’m sure the man you give this to will love it,’ she smiled.

‘I hope so. If I’m lucky it’ll be a surprise at any rate,’ I replied.

The saleswoman beamed, smelling a more than likely sale. ‘It comes in its own box, so if you wrap it, he won’t be able to guess what it is.’

I looked at her but didn’t answer. Why assume the bow was for a man? But then I shrugged and told myself that really it was a compliment.

‘Er, I will need to see some ID,’ said the saleswoman apologetically. ‘It’s against the law to sell these to anyone under eighteen.’

I dug my provisional driver’s licence out of my purse. Luckily, I always kept it with me so the fire hadn’t got it. And the thought of breaking and entering to steal the crossbow or mesmerizing the woman into handing it over didn’t appeal, though that’s what I would’ve done if necessary. My mesmerizing skills weren’t on a par with Julius’s yet, but he’d had more practice.

So I bought it, wondering if I’d really be able to actually use it? Clutching the carrier bag which held my purchase to my chest, I walked quickly away from the shop. I’d barely taken five or six steps when I was stopped by two animal rights’ campaigners.

‘Excuse me, will you sign our petition?’

‘What’s it about?’ I asked.

‘We want to stop cruelty to animals.’

‘And encourage people to think about eating alternatives to meat,’ said the second campaigner.

I signed.

So here I was, staring at the crossbow in my hand and once again wondering if I could use the thing. Could I actually look Andrew in the eye and pull the trigger? Would it come to that?

Don’t think about anything except surviving, I told myself. If I hesitated for even a second, I’d be dead. And my mum and sister would be left to Andrew and Morgan’s not so tender mercies. I couldn’t let that happen.

I double-checked the bolt that sat in the groove of the crossbow barrel. I’d adapted the six metal bolts that came with the crossbow, adding pure silver to each bolt tip by heating and cutting up some silver cutlery Mum had saved from the fire. I’d tried to be extra careful – wearing rubber gloves to protect my skin – but a lapse in concentration had resulted in one tiny splash of silver on my forearm. It had burned through the gloves and into my skin with a scar that even now still hadn’t healed. I remembered Andrew’s reaction to the silver cross I’d worn when I first met up with him after my journey back from Fipoli. I’d mistakenly thought he was afraid of the cross – like in the movies – but I now knew it was the metallic element he had been scared of. Pure silver was lethal to us vampires. I just had to make sure I touched the steel shaft of each bolt and never the tip or I’d be doing Andrew’s job for him.

The loaded bolt was held firmly in place by the metal pressure catch above it. I knew it would fire all right. The question was, would it do the job? No, not the question, just one of them. I tried not to think too much about what I was doing and whether or not I’d be able to do it. I had to let my instincts take over or I would fail. I checked two silver-bladed knives I had tucked into a makeshift leather sheath at the side of each boot. Hidden under my leather coat, tucked into my belt at the back, was also a stake made from the wood of an ash tree. I wasn’t taking any chances.

I crept out onto the landing, then paused, listening for Andrew.

‘Jayna? Jayna, I know you’re up there.’

I gripped the crossbow tighter in my right hand and walked towards the top of the stairs, my right hand hidden behind my back. Andrew stood in the hall, looking up at me. Before me was the image of the person I’d fallen in love with. The image of the man I’d shared my body with – a lifetime ago.

‘Hello, Andrew,’ I said quietly.

‘Where’s Morgan?’ he said.

‘He’s having a lie-down in his room.’

Pause.

‘What did you do to him?’

‘The same thing both of you tried to do to my family.’

‘What if I tell you that I didn’t have anything to do with the fire at your house? I would never—’

‘Don’t tell me you never! You’re the one doing the chemistry A-level. Who else made that Molotov cocktail? Morgan? Your brother couldn’t make up his bed, much less something like that.’

‘Jayna, I’m telling you the truth—’

‘Shut up. I don’t want to hear any more of your lies. I don’t want to believe you’d do that to my family and our house, but I know it was you. Your brother just admitted as much.’

‘It was a mistake,’ Andrew said at last.

‘Funny. That’s what your brother said,’ I replied bitterly. ‘What was the point of your little present through my window? To get me here? No . . . it wasn’t even that, was it? You just wanted to get me.’

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

‘Why?’ I whispered.

‘For the same reason you’re hiding whatever it is you’ve got in your right hand.’ Andrew’s voice was harsh. His eyes were giving me frostbite, turning slowly but surely from green to red . . .

‘It’s not the same at all. Why do you hate me so much for being the same as you?’

‘But you’re not. Don’t you see? And you won’t change,’ Andrew shouted at me. ‘It should all be perfect, but you want to hold onto what you were. You want to drag me back down to nothing.’

‘Andrew, you don’t get it, do you?’ I shook my head sadly. ‘What we have now is nothing. What we are now is nothing. Can’t you see that?’

Silence. So cold. When did it become so cold?

‘Morgan’s dead, isn’t he?’

I didn’t answer. Andrew’s lips thinned and I watched them in isolation, then his cheeks, his wavy hair, his narrowed eyes, his clenched hands. All he had to do was listen to know that Morgan was still alive. I could hear his brother’s unconscious breathing. If Andrew wanted, he could have heard it too, but I was the only thing on his mind now. He wouldn’t allow anyone or anything else to enter his head.

‘You fed on him.’ It wasn’t a question. Andrew started walking slowly up the stairs towards me.

‘Tell me Pete is the one and only person you’ve killed,’ I challenged. I dropped my right arm to my side. ‘Tell me you haven’t ripped the throat out of anyone else and drunk their blood since I’ve been away and I’ll give you my bow by the handle, right here, right now.’

Andrew halted on the fourth step. His eyes travelled from my face to the crossbow in my hand.

‘Go on, tell me,’ I urged. He didn’t come any closer. ‘That’s what I thought.’ I laughed harshly. ‘You’re evil, Andrew Harrison. It’s what you’ve become. We both knew it wouldn’t stop at Pete. Pete wasn’t even the first, was he? I was the first.’

Andrew said nothing.

‘Someone’s got to stop you,’ I whispered.

‘You?’ Andrew mocked.

‘There is no one else. We both know that. And that’s why you are scared of me.’

I waited for Andrew to laugh in my face, but he didn’t. His eyes kept changing colour, like dye added to water, from blood-red to bottle-green, then back again.

‘Well, we’re both here, Andrew,’ I said softly. ‘What happens now?’

I don’t know how long we stood watching one another, moments or minutes.

Tell me the past doesn’t matter.

Invite me to walk with you to greet the sunrise.

Please, Andrew, just ask me . . .

Andrew vaulted over the banisters, down into the hall. In less than a second he was gone. I leaned over the balustrade.

‘Andrew . . .?’

What did it mean? Was he going to leave me alone? Had he heard his brother breathing and realized I hadn’t killed him? He must have done. Hope, long extinguished, ignited within me.

Is it over? Let it be over.

Without warning, every light in the house went out.

45

A GASP ESCAPED my lips before I could halt it. Momentarily I froze, before sprinting for one of the bedrooms.

Andrew . . . He’d turned off the electricity. Bastard!

But I could see in the dark. I had natural night vision. Andrew knew that. So why switch off all the lights? To throw me off balance, I realized. And it had worked.

I should have stood my ground at the top of the stairs. I should never have run. Andrew knew me too well. I’d been right about how this would end, and God only knew I didn’t want to be right.

I crouched low, forcing myself not to panic. At least I knew that he was still downstairs with the electricity fuse box. And I’d hear him when he came upstairs. No matter how quiet he tried to be, I’d hear him. I stopped breathing and listened harder. With a start, I realized I was in Andrew’s room. Ironic.

Don’t think about that. Think about surviving . . .

I looked around. I could see in the dark but I didn’t want to rely solely upon my eyes. Bowing my head, I concentrated on using my other senses. I closed my eyes, my grip on the crossbow tightening.

I don’t want this. I don’t want this. I tried to get the thought out of my head but it wouldn’t budge.

Andrew, what happened to us . . .?

Stop thinking like you’re in a soap opera, Jayna!

Concentrate.

I leaned against the wall, my eyes still closed, the crossbow now a part of my right hand.

Two months ago, the world had been normal. So was I. So was Andrew. The biggest things in my life had been passing my exams, which university to apply to, and making love with Andrew.

Now my life was . . . nothing. I’d done things I couldn’t bear to think about and it still wasn’t over.

An almost imperceptible creak on the landing had my eyes open instantly. Andrew had jumped up. I’d forgotten about the jumping. I crouched even further down, waiting. Outside, Andrew gasped. I turned my head to see through the wall, his location pinpointed. He’d found his brother. But knowing Morgan was alive wouldn’t change Andrew’s resolve. My hand and head turned to face the bedroom door. It was the only way in and I was ready.

Stand up or stay crouched – what should I do? I exhaled slowly, oh so slowly.

Stay crouched, I thought. Stay down low. My eyes never left the entrance to Andrew’s room. With my left hand, I gently fingered the other bolts inside my deep coat pocket. If I missed, would I get a second chance? Doubtful.

Don’t miss, then!

Come on, Andrew.

Get it over.

I just want this to be over.

I listened harder.

Where are you?

Listening for me?

It’s not so easy coming after someone who fights back, is it? I’m not the soft target my mum and sister were . . .

The hairs on my nape began to prickle. Something was wrong. There was no . . . presence in the house. I felt alone. But I couldn’t be. Andrew wouldn’t go away and leave me. Would he? Had he found his brother and realized I wasn’t the enemy he considered me? I shook my head. No, Andrew was out for my blood and nothing and no one could change his mind now. Not my sparing his brother and certainly not anything I could say or do.

Carefully, I began to rise, my eyes never leaving the bedroom door. The smash of wood, the shattering of glass had my head whipping round.

The window . . .

Screaming, I raised my arm and fired wildly. The bolt flew like a bullet, straight out of the shattered window. I fled round the door and out of the room, one hand still holding my crossbow, my left hand frantically digging into my coat pocket to extract another bolt. Andrew was right behind me, grabbing at my coat, pulling it off me, trying to slow me down. I shrugged out of it, throwing my crossbow from my right hand to my left and back again as I left my coat behind. I raced along the landing.

Down the stairs, Jayna. Get downstairs.

The only bolt I had left was the one in my left hand. All the others were still in my coat and Andrew now had that.

Jayna, get downstairs . . .

My legs disappeared out from under me. I fell forward, crashing heavily – Andrew had rugby-tackled my legs. The bolt flew out of my hand and down the stairs, clattering as it fell. My head and upper body flopped forward over the top steps.

‘No!’ I kicked and lashed out against Andrew dragging me backwards. Fear, untamed and uncontrollable, gave me a strength I’d never had before. I kicked out harder, my free foot walloping him on the side of his face. Andrew momentarily let go of my other leg. That was all I needed. I threw myself down the stairs after the bolt.

‘Jayna . . .’

He was shouting at me but I didn’t listen. The blood rushing through my body drowned out every word he was saying. Just like the fear I could smell emanating from my body – salty and sour and metallic – overwhelmed all other smells. I stretched out my fingers. Right there. The bolt was right there, teasing my fingernails. Andrew was still shouting. I didn’t want to hear.

Please don’t make me hear.

I couldn’t bear it.

Got it! The bolt was in my hands. I pulled the bowstring back until it was fully drawn and set and pushed the bolt backwards into the groove of the crossbow barrel, the whole thing taking a moment or less.

Only one more shot . . .

I only had one more shot . . .

I twisted my body round like a snake shedding its skin, to lie on my back, my knees bent, my head raised. The loaded crossbow in my hand pointed between my legs straight at Andrew’s chest. He was halfway down the stairs. I lay in the hall. We were frozen, two figures in a macabre painting.

Andrew broke the spell first. He began walking down towards me, his hands held out. ‘Jayna, I know you spared my brother’s life,’ he said softly. His face hadn’t completely changed – he still looked like my Andrew – but his eyes were ruby-red. ‘I don’t want to hurt you, Jayna . . . I love you. Please . . . trust me . . .’

I pulled the trigger.

46

ANDREW TUMBLED HEAVILY down the remaining stairs. I could smell blood and I knew I’d never smell anything else again.

Panicking, I scrambled backwards using my forearms. He fell in the exact same spot I’d just left, and he didn’t move. It had to be a trick. I shuffled right away from him and struggled to sit up. I stood slowly, expecting him to spring at me again at any second. Still he didn’t move. I could see him. He was lying face down, statue still.

Lights. I needed the lights on. If I couldn’t have daylight, at least I had electricity. The lights would bring normality and reality back to me. I stumbled along the walls to the cellar door just before the kitchen, my head spinning. All the bones in my body were turning to warm jelly. It was a struggle to stop myself from passing out. I made it to the main electricity fuse box and reached out to flick the ON/OFF switch.

Yellow-white light cloaked me. I stumbled out of the cellar, shutting the door behind me. Then I leaned my head against it briefly.

‘Please let it be over now.’ My whispered plea was just for me. No one else could help or hear. Then I turned round – and screamed. Andrew was standing right in front of me.

I held out my hands to ward him off, completely defenceless, staring terror-stricken at him. He reached for me, his hands almost touching my face before he sank to his knees and fell over sideways onto the floor. Only then did I see the blood staining the centre of his T-shirt like a huge inkblot.

He reached out with his hand. I didn’t move. Then he did a strange thing. He smiled. I backed away.

‘Jayna, I . . . love you . . .’ He coughed. Blood bubbled out of his mouth, trickling down his cheek.

‘I love you too, Andrew,’ I said at last. ‘But it wasn’t enough.’

Andrew didn’t move, didn’t speak. I wondered if he could even hear any more. I slid down the wall, pulling up my knees in order to rest my head on them, and wrapped my arms around my legs, watching him. Watching him until his eyes glazed over, noting the exact moment when he stopped seeing me or anything else, just gazing ahead with sightless jade-green eyes. I crawled over to him and closed his eyelids. Then, sitting with his head in my lap, I cried for both of us, bitter blood tears.

I looked up towards the ceiling, the roof, the sky, beyond. I felt frozen. Not empty, just numb. As I looked down again, I caught a glimpse of myself in the hall mirror. I could see my reflection. It was only hazy, a misty form, but definitely there. But I couldn’t see Andrew’s at all. He was here, cradled in my arms – but in the mirror he didn’t exist. He’d drunk Pete’s blood and the blood of how many others? Other than Andrew’s when he changed me, I hadn’t drunk human blood – yet. Some part of me, a deep, almost forgotten part of me, still held a trace of humanity. And I could see it reflected, albeit hazily, in the mirror. It wasn’t much, but I would hang onto it with all my might.

‘So what happens now?’ I asked my own reflection.

Maybe I could seek out others like me – and destroy them. Maybe, just maybe, I could do some good somehow, and work my way back to regaining my soul. If that was too much to hope for, I’d settle for just pulling myself out of hell.

Above me I heard Morgan groan, then groan again, louder. He was coming round. I looked down at Andrew and kissed him. Then I let him go.

I stood up and left the house, closing the door behind me.

1. Liam

A storm was coming. I could smell it in the brackish air, hear it in the growl of the waves, see it in the darkening clouds. Josh picked up a stone and tried to skim it across the foaming water. It sank immediately. A wave raced up the beach towards us as if in protest.

Josh laughed and picked up another stone. ‘Wow! Look at that!’

A salt tang caught at the back of my throat and I had to cough slightly to clear it before I could speak.

‘Look! Look!’ Josh pointed.

‘At what?’

‘The sea.’

‘What about it?’

‘It’s like a huge pot of spaghetti, boiling and bubbling!’

I looked away and shook my head, biting back on the words that just itched to leave my mouth.

‘Amazing! Check the sky!’ Josh continued.

I automatically looked up at the strange yellowy-grey clouds. It was as if the tops of the clouds were solid and on fire and all the resultant soot and ash were falling to the bottom of them. It was quite common to see the clouds like that over the coast where we lived but I’d never seen them like that anywhere else, and certainly not inland. Not that I’d been to that many places. Not that I’d been anywhere really. The sky matched my mood. Unsettled. Restless.

‘What about the sky?’ I said, unable to keep the impatience out of my voice.

‘Isn’t it terrific? Like . . . like . . .’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Josh. Not again,’ I snapped like an old elastic band. ‘Why’re you always going on about the skylight and the twilight and the moonlight? No wonder you’re always getting picked on at school.’

Josh looked up at me like a wounded dog I’d kicked when he was down. ‘I like . . . looking at things.’

‘Fine. But that’s no reason to drip on like a snotty tissue about them,’ I said viciously.

Josh winced at my words and I wasn’t sorry. I was glad. I liked to look at things too, but you didn’t hear me going on like a girly about them. Josh had to toughen up – fast. I wouldn’t always be there to watch his back at school, or anywhere else for that matter. Didn’t he understand that?

‘I’ll shut up then,’ Josh replied quietly.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I’d appreciate it.’

Josh’s nose began to run. Another reason why my brother always gets picked on. Whenever he’s upset, his nose dribbles. It drives me crazy.

‘Wipe your nose,’ I ordered.

Josh swiped the sleeve of his jumper across his face. He picked up another stone and skimmed it across the water. After a moment I picked up a stone, my hand clenching tightly around its icy smoothness. I knew I was just taking out my bad mood on my brother, but who else was there?

No one.

I shook my head.

My whole life was so pointless. It didn’t matter. I didn’t matter. I was like one of the small pebbles on the beach, battered smooth by day after month after year of wave upon wave. Except in my case, the wave was my dad. He picked on and criticized and disapproved and condemned every breath I took, until the effect was just the same. I was battered smooth, but that was only on the outside. Inside I was rough and jagged and all corners. And Josh was the only one I could hurt. So I often did. And as much as I hated myself afterwards, it never stopped me from doing it again. And again.

I clenched the stone in my hand even more tightly. Josh sniffed beside me. I wanted to turn to him and hug him and hold him and tell him that he was my brother and that meant something to me. But I didn’t. We stood there, together but apart as it began to rain. No gradual build-up from a light spray, but great beads of icy water as big as my fingernails. We were soaked in seconds. The waves lashed up the beach, laughing at us. Or maybe they were angry with us. Or maybe they couldn’t care less one way or the other. We picked up smooth stones and skimmed them across the rough water as the storm bashed at us.

It was better than going home.

Sooner or later, we’d have to turn round and head back. If we were lucky, Dad would be round the pub and we’d be able to change our clothes without ructions. If we were lucky. And once again, it’d be left to me to cook up some pasta or some bacon, beans and toast for dinner – which was OK as long as we could eat our dinner in peace before Dad got home. I turned to look at Josh, wondering what he was thinking. As if he sensed me watching him, he wiped his nose again with his sleeve. It was raining quite hard now. The yellow tinge to the clouds had disappeared. Now there was only dark charcoal-grey.

‘Come on, Josh,’ I shouted above the noise of the waves and the rain. ‘Time to head back.’

‘Liam, I don’t want to go home,’ he shouted back.

‘Come on.’ I started walking up the beach. I didn’t need to turn round to know that my brother was standing there watching me. ‘Come on, or I’ll leave you to it,’ I yelled.

Josh started to follow me. I slowed down so that he could catch up. When at last he did, I turned round to him and smiled. He smiled back. Without warning, I grabbed him and put him in a headlock.

‘Get off!’ he shouted.

After messing up his short locks good and proper, I let him go. Josh had to take a step forward, his hands stretched out before him to stop himself from falling. He sprang up and grinned at me. And just like that, some of the weight was lifted from my shoulders. But not much. And not for long.

‘Time to go home,’ I sighed.

Josh’s smile vanished. And I’d done that. I was always the one to wipe the smile from his face. Sometimes, I really hated being the older brother. Sometimes, I wondered how it would feel to just be me. By myself. No one else to consider. No one else to worry about. Just the thought of it made me ache inside. To be on my own and left alone. Now that would be a real slice of heaven.

2. Nova and her Dad

Nova had to read the wretched notice her dad had just put on the hotel notice board twice before the full horror of it sank in. What had she done to deserve such a father? Was she someone despicably mean in another life? Just who had she cheesed off? Obviously someone really high up in the pecking order of things, because she was sure paying for it now. It was like every night, Dad dreamed up unique, bizarre and very effective ways to embarrass the hell out of her. And the trouble was, he always succeeded. Nova sighed – one of the deep, long-suffering sighs that she was rightly proud of. She stretched out a hand to remove the notice.

‘Nova, don’t even think about it,’ Dad called out, leaning over the reception desk.

‘Dad, you can’t leave that there.’

‘Why not?’

‘Anyone thinking of staying here will think this place is a nut-house, that’s why.’

‘Any new guests will be impressed by the hygiene standards at our hotel.’

‘New guests? Dream on!’ Nova muttered. She scowled at Dad’s notice. It had to come down. Embarrassing didn’t even come close to describing it.

POLITE NOTICE TO ALL GUESTS OF PHOENIX MANOR

There are some devices which are being underused in this hotel due to an obvious lack of knowledge or technical awareness. I realize that these features come without a user guide, so I thought I might offer some advice.

* The white or wooden handle on the rear wall of each toilet cubicle is not decorative, nor is it the handle of a fruit machine or a firing mechanism for an ejector seat. It has the express function of sending your sausage to the seaside. No matter how proud you may be of the fibre content of your diet, we at this hotel don’t want to see the evidence. Flush the ruddy thing!

* Loobrushaphobia continues to be a real problem for some of you. Hold the narrow white or wood-veneer end of the brush and use the bristly end to remove whatever excreta may have avoided ‘the flush’ (see above).

* When you use the last piece of toilet paper in the dispenser, it would be a noble, charitable and friendly act to replace it from the large stock provided in each bathroom. Please do NOT phone me or any member of my family at Omigod o’clock in the early hours of the morning and ask where the spare toilet rolls are, as happened two nights ago. And if you do run out of toilet paper and find there is no more available in your current location, please do NOT shuffle down to the reception desk with your trousers around your ankles – yes, you, Mr Burntwood. (My wife is still having nightmares.)

* The fact that fresh urine is almost sterile does not entirely mitigate the practice of spraying it around the toilet seat and/or floor like some randy tomcat. In other words, ‘If you sprinkle when you tinkle, keep it neat and wipe the seat.’

If there are any technical issues for which you require further information, please call me on ext. 100 or try www.social.hygiene/how-to-use-the-ruddy-toilet.bum

Tyler Clibbens – Hotel Owner/Manager/General Dogsbody

Nova stretched out a hand towards it.

‘Nova, I’m watching you,’ Dad yelled, stretching even further over his desk.

‘Dad, please.’ Nova was desperate. ‘Besides, you don’t want Mum to see this, do you?’

‘So what if she does?’ Dad looked around furtively. He stood upright, shoulders squared, lips pursed and set. ‘Besides, what I say goes.’

‘Only when Mum isn’t here,’ replied Nova.

‘Well, she’s not here now so that notice stays. The job’s a good ’un! Leave it alone.’

Nova recognized that belligerent tone of voice. She was familiar with the gritty, stern look. She had thought that throwing Mum into the conversation would make Dad back down – it usually did – but he was obviously having one of his ‘I’m the man and not under my wife’s thumb’ moments! Nova couldn’t help shaking her head at the notice one last time, before turning to make her way to the kitchen.

Mr Jackman bumped into her and carried on walking without saying a word.

‘Excuse me all over the place,’ Nova huffed at him.

Mr Jackman hadn’t altered his pace one bit. Nova didn’t even know if he’d heard her. What was that man’s problem? He shuffled around the hotel as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wasn’t even that old. Nova didn’t think he’d reached his thirties yet. Early to middle twenties at the most. But he moved like a man at least three times his age. If he tried smiling occasionally he might actually be passable. Short, dark-brown hair, and once, when he’d actually looked at her rather than slinking past, head down, she’d noticed with a start that he had one brown eye and one dark blue. The start was because he’d been at the hotel for a few days by then and it was the first time Nova had caught a clear glimpse of his eyes. She had never seen a mixed-race guy with different coloured eyes before. It made Mr Jackman seem even more mysterious.

Now he’d been in the hotel for over a week and when he did put in an appearance – which wasn’t often – he always wore immaculate black jeans and a T-shirt, usually white, even in the unusually chilly autumn weather.

‘Ah, Mr Jackman, will you be staying on with us for a while longer?’ Dad called out, leaning over the reception desk again and craning his neck.

Mr Jackman nodded and carried on towards the stairs.

‘Can you give me some idea how long you’ll be with us?’ Dad leaned out even further, one hand waving to attract Mr Jackman’s attention.

But the initial nod was all Dad was going to get. Mr Jackman walked up the stairs as if Dad hadn’t spoken. As if Dad wasn’t even there.

‘Er . . . Mr Jackman . . . Mr — Arrggghhhh!’ Dad tipped right over the reception desk to land in a heap on the other side.

‘Hello, Nova.’

Nova jumped at the sound of the voice behind her. She whipped round, surprised then not surprised to see Miss Dawn standing behind her. Both Miss Dawn and her companion, Miss Eve, had the weirdest knack of appearing behind you almost out of nowhere. Miss Dawn was an elderly black woman, her black hair streaked with honey-brown and burgundy highlights. She was about as tall as Nova’s sister, Rainbow, though Miss Eve was taller.

‘He’s a strange man, isn’t he?’ said Miss Dawn.

‘Are you talking about my dad or Mr Jackman?’

Miss Dawn smiled in Dad’s direction, watching as he cursed up a blue streak while he struggled to his feet. She turned to watch Mr Jackman’s back disappear round a bend in the stairs. ‘Well, in this instance I was referring to Mr Jackman.’

‘He’s not very friendly, is he?’ Nova said.

‘Maybe he’s got a lot on his mind,’ Miss Dawn suggested.

‘And all of it bad, from the look on his face.’

‘What he needs is a good friend, my dear. Someone like you,’ said Miss Dawn.

‘I’m sure the very last thing he wants is to be bothered by me.’

‘Don’t you believe it. We all need someone to talk to, someone to share things with and sometimes . . .’

‘Yeah?’

‘Sometimes, no one sees things more clearly than a child.’

‘Excuse me, I’m not a child. I’m nearly thirteen.’ Nova bristled.

‘Oh, of course, my dear. My mistake.’ Miss Dawn’s eyes twinkled. ‘My point is just that sometimes younger ones like you see more clearly than us . . . wrinklies.’

‘Tell that to my dad’ – Nova indicated with her head – ‘then maybe he’ll let me take down that notice.’

‘Oh, no! You don’t want to take that down. Your father’s quite right, my dear.’

‘But . . . but it’s embarrassing!’

‘What’s embarrassing about using the toilet?’ asked Miss Dawn with perfect seriousness. ‘It’s something to celebrate rather than be ashamed of. We all do it! And toilets are a fantastic invention. So useful. So comfortable!’

Nova’s face grew hotter by the second. That was not the sort of thing old women should talk about. ‘If you say so.’ She took a discreet but wary step backwards.

‘I do! I’ve spent many a happy hour sitting on the toilet, reading or sewing or just contemplating the infinite!’

‘Er . . . I think I hear Mum calling me. Bye!’ Nova turned and raced for the kitchen.

‘Nova, don’t run!’ Dad yelled. ‘Health and safety!’

‘I wasn’t about to give you a graphic demonstration, my dear,’ Miss Dawn called out. ‘I was just talking about them, that’s all.’

Nova didn’t stop running until she’d reached the kitchen. If it weren’t for the weird guests at the hotel and the even more weird behaviour of her dad, the hotel might actually be a reasonable place to hang out!

3. Nova and her Mum

‘When I was at school, my cookery teacher told us the secret to rolling out good pastry was “Short, sharp strokes away from you! Short, sharp strokes away from you.”’ Mum matched the words to the actions, her hands on the rolling pin moving in brisk, precise strokes across the pastry on the kitchen table. ‘And I find it actually works! I’ve never rolled out uneven pastry in my life!’

Nova entered the kitchen, only to stop short at the sound of her mum’s voice. Mum was a cookery superstar again! Whenever she was alone in the kitchen, she always pretended to be some really famous cook whose every culinary move was watched by millions to copy, learn from and enjoy.

‘And I find there’s something very soothing about cooking foods high in carbohydrates. Beating cakes. Kneading dough. Rolling pastry. Very therapeutic. Very satisfying,’ Mum continued, totally unaware that she was being watched. ‘Take this pastry I’m rolling, for instance. Now, the guests brave enough – or broke enough – to eat dinner here may say that my puff pastry is as light as a brick, but they’re missing the point. Making pastry stops me from throttling some of them. Beating cake mixture works out all the little stresses and strains of everyday life. And as for kneading bread dough – now that’s a life saver. I even keep batches of bread dough in the fridge in case of emergencies. I have a little song I made up which goes to the heart of what I’m trying to say. It goes like this.’ Turning her head away from the pastry before her, Mum coughed a couple of times to clear her throat before she began:

‘When the kids start,

When the bills come,

When the guests complain.

I simply remember where I’ve put my dough,

And then I’m as right

As rain!

‘Oh, yes, there’s nothing like a big dollop of bread dough,’ Mum concluded.

‘Mum, that’s about seventeen signs of madness all rolled into one, that is!’

Mum jumped so high, Nova thought she’d have to scrape her off the ceiling. ‘It’s not polite to listen to private conversations,’ Mum ranted, when her feet touched the ground again.

‘And it’s not sane to pretend you’re being filmed every time you break out a saucepan,’ Nova pointed out.

‘Was there something in particular you wanted or are you just here to make my life a misery?’ Mum asked.

‘What’re you doing?’ Nova came further into the room.

‘Making pastry, dear. What does it look like?’

‘Who cheesed you off then?’

‘No one. Sometimes I make pastry because I’m cooking something that requires pastry.’ Mum frowned. ‘Besides, you’re the one who’s got a funny look on your face.’

‘No I haven’t.’

‘Yes you have. Your eyebrows are knotted together so tightly, it’d take Alexander the Great to sort them out.’

‘Who’s he then? A footballer?’ grinned Nova.

Mum shook her head. ‘What do they teach you at school these days?’

‘Things that are far more useful than the dreary stuff you learned,’ Nova replied. ‘And I know who Alexander the Great was. He was the son of Alexander the Average.’

‘You were telling me why you’ve got a face on?’ Mum said patiently.

‘I had to get away from Miss Dawn.’

‘Why?’

‘She was going on and on about toilets and how lucky we are that they’re so comfortable!’

Mum burst out laughing.

‘I like her but she is really strange.’ Nova shook her head.

‘She’s in the perfect place then. Strange is what we do best at this hotel,’ said Mum.

‘Yeah, but there’s something very odd about her. And that other woman, Miss Eve. Why do they travel around together? They’re always sniping at each other,’ Nova wondered out loud.

‘At least they don’t stab each other in the back,’ Mum pointed out. ‘They’re nasty to each other’s faces.’

‘But why go around together then?’

‘Why not? And at that age, maybe it’s better than being alone.’

‘Is it?’ said Nova.

Mum shrugged. ‘Some people will do some really foolish things or put up with a great deal rather than be lonely.’

‘Would you?’ Nova asked.

Mum considered. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘I don’t think I would either.’

Mother and daughter exchanged a smile of perfect understanding.

‘D’you want a snack?’ asked Mum. ‘I’ve bought some rock buns or there’re some doughnuts next to the bread bin.’

‘No thanks.’

‘Not hungry?’

‘Not especially,’ Nova replied.

‘You never are,’ said Mum. ‘You only ever eat at meal times – that I’ve seen, anyway.’

‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah, but it’s not normal. Not for a twelve-year-old at any rate!’

‘I’m the most normal one in this hotel,’ Nova said indignantly.

‘Which isn’t saying much!’

‘True,’ Nova agreed with a grin.

Mum’s smile faded. ‘So why d’you never eat snacks?’

Nova sighed with impatience. ‘I do eat snacks. I stuff myself with snacks.’

At Mum’s raised eyebrows, Nova insisted, ‘It’s true.’

‘You don’t seem to have much of a sweet tooth either. It’s not natural,’ said Mum, more to herself than otherwise.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Nova marched over to the bread bin and helped herself to a jam doughnut from the paper bag next to it. She took a huge bite out of it, chewing rapidly as she said, ‘See!’

‘Yes, dear.’ Mum smiled and returned to her pastry. Nova finished her doughnut in four bites before licking her sugary fingers clean like a cat licking its paws.

‘Want another one?’ asked Mum.

‘Maybe later.’ Nova drifted around the kitchen, looking for something to do that would require little effort and less thought. ‘Dad’s put up one of his notices again.’

Mum sighed. ‘Oh dear! What’s this one about?’

‘Using the toilets properly.’

‘First Miss Dawn, then your father. Why is everyone fixated on their nether regions today?’ Mum frowned.

‘Don’t ask me. D’you want some help?’

‘No, I’ve got it all under control,’ Mum said hastily. ‘No offence, love, but you helping out in the kitchen is like a bull helping out in a crystal glass shop!’

‘Well, thank you very much. And when I don’t offer—’ Nova got no further.

Jude and Jake raced into the kitchen, crashing into her. ‘Ow! Can’t you two watch where you’re going?’ she stormed at them.

Only seconds behind them sprinted Rainbow, Nova’s older sister. ‘Mum, tell those little nappy squirts to stay out of my room or I’ll . . . I’ll torture them,’ she raged, snatching at her brothers.

Jake and Jude ducked under and around the table, trying to keep out of reach of both Rainbow and Nova. The twins hid behind Mum as Rainbow did her best to grab first one, then the other, without much success.

‘Raye, calm down. Nova, they bashed into you by accident so back off. OK, you two, what’ve you been up to?’ Mum had to sidestep, then front-step to keep between Rainbow and the twins. It looked as if she were line-dancing.

‘They’ve been in my room, searching through my things – that’s what they’ve been doing,’ Rainbow fumed. ‘Mum, I want a lock on my door and if you don’t get someone to do it, I’ll do it myself.’

‘Jude, is that true? Were you two searching through Raye’s bedroom?’

‘Only a little bit, Mum,’ Jude admitted.

‘In a pig’s eye!’ Raye exploded. ‘They’ve been through all my stuff and my room’s a mess.’

‘How can you tell?’ Mum wasn’t trying to be sarcastic. At least, Nova didn’t think she was. From the instantly apologetic look on Mum’s face, it’d obviously just slipped out. But it’d slipped out far enough for Rainbow to hear. Rainbow glared at Mum before she turned and marched out of the kitchen.

Mum turned to the twins. ‘Could you two please, please stay out of Rainbow’s room for the sake of my blood pressure? Not to mention my sanity!’

The twins grinned at her. ‘At least we give Rainbow something else to worry about apart from boys!’ said Jude.

‘So what did you get this time?’ Nova said eagerly. ‘Anything interesting?’

‘Raye’s writing poems,’ Jake informed her solemnly.

‘No! Did you manage to get one?’

Jake lifted up his jumper and a piece of paper immediately fluttered out and onto the floor.

‘Let’s see.’ Nova bent to snatch at it but Jake got there first.

‘We’ll read it,’ he told her.

‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ Mum warned. ‘It doesn’t belong to you and if Raye finds out you’ve got it, you’re on your own!’

‘She won’t find out, Mum. Don’t worry. Ready, Jake?’ said Jude.

‘Ready, Jude,’ Jake replied.

‘I really, really don’t recommend this,’ Mum began.

‘Never mind her. Read it,’ Nova ordered, her eyes ablaze with possibilities.

‘I want nothing to do with this.’ Mum went back to rolling out her pastry.

‘You start, Jake,’ said Jude. ‘We’ll take half each.’

Jake grinned at Nova, then he began, ‘Raye’s poem:

‘I’m a lanky, tall girl

With a cellulite body.

I’ve got a bulging stomach,

And my bum’s big like a lorry.

I’ve got biceps like a boxer

I’ve canoes instead of feet,

And when I fart – look out!

’Cos my bottom isn’t sweet!’

‘Well, that bit is certainly true.’ Jude nodded vigorously as he handed over the sheet of paper to his twin.

‘My parents are as mad as loons,

My sister’s a real pain.

My brothers are the worst of all

They’re driving me insane.

What gives me inspiration as

My life heads down the tubes?

The two things that I wouldn’t change,

My colour and my—’

‘Give me that.’ Mum snatched the poem from Jude before he could protest. She glanced down at the writing on the page. ‘Oh, dear! Is that really how Raye sees herself?’

‘What’s she talking about – her bum’s big like a lorry!?’ Nova scoffed. ‘She’s thin as a pin. Any skinnier and I’d be able to pick my teeth with her.’

‘Why on earth would she think her dad and I are mad? I’m the sanest person I know!’ said Mum.

‘Mum, you talk to your pastry and Dad is always hanging up peculiar notices for the guests. If that’s not barmy, then what is?’ said Nova.

‘You’re a pain! You’re a pain!’ said Jake to Nova gleefully.

‘And we’re driving her insane,’ said Jude with equal delight. ‘Yes!’

Jude and Jake gave each other a high five as a salute to a job well done.

‘Look, you two,’ said Mum urgently, ‘I don’t want Raye finding out that you snaffled one of her poems, d’you hear? She’s going through enough as it is.’

‘What’s she going through then?’ Nova asked.

‘She’s a teenager,’ Mum replied. As far as she was concerned that explained everything.

‘I can’t wait to be a teenager if it means I’ll get away with all the stuff Raye does,’ said Nova.

‘You’ve always been stroppy, Nova, so your dad and I have had a lot of practice in dealing with you. Your sister, however, is different.’

‘Thanks a lot!’ Nova stormed.

‘I didn’t mean it like that!’ Mum amended quickly. ‘I just—’

‘What does stroppy mean?’ asked Jude.

‘Awkward, stubborn, difficult – basically a pain in the neck,’ Nova supplied.

‘I just meant—’ said Mum desperately.

‘Save it, Mum!’ Nova flounced over to the fridge.

Mum raised her eyes heavenwards.

‘Are we going to be like that when we become teenagers?’ Jake asked hopefully.

‘Yeah, are we?’ added Jude, with equal alacrity.

‘Over my dead body,’ Mum told them at once.

‘How come the girls get to do it and we don’t?’ Jake pouted.

‘Yeah, how come?’ Jude added.

Mum said in a long-suffering voice, ‘Why do I have the sudden urge to bake enough bread to feed every mouth in the country?’ She turned back to Rainbow’s poem, the crease between her eyebrows deepening.

Jude and Jake grinned at each other. Mum was now softened up nicely!

‘Mum, can we go and play in the attic?’ Jake asked casually.

‘Not in my bedroom,’ Nova said quickly. Half the attic space had been converted into her bedroom and she guarded her space ferociously. The other half was used for storage and contained old-fashioned trunks and dusty boxes and piles of papers that only Jude and Jake enjoyed going through.

‘Yeah, can we?’ asked Jude.

‘Can you what?’ asked Mum, preoccupied.

‘Play in the attic.’

‘OK,’ said Mum.

Stunned, Nova stared at her. Mum’s brain obviously wasn’t switched on. As the twins turned to run out of the room, Mum suddenly realized what she’d been asked. She moved at greased lightning speed to grab both of them by the arm.

‘Just a minute, you two. No dropping water bombs on the heads of the guests, no dust sheets over your heads and pretending to be ghosts, no strange noises, no banana skins, no itching powder, no fake dog poo, no real cockroaches, no stink bombs, no worms in any of the beds, no fart alarms, no frogs in any of the baths. NO NONSENSE. Is that understood?’

‘Ma’am, yes, ma’am!’ Jude and Jake saluted in unison.

‘I mean it. If I hear from any of the guests that you two have been up to your usual antics, you’re both in BIG trouble.’

‘We heard,’ Jake sniffed.

‘No need to go on and on,’ Jude added, dusting the flour off his arm.

They both ran off with Mum eyeing them suspiciously. She directed a worried look at Nova.

‘Don’t worry, Mum,’ Nova said. ‘Between me, Raye, Dad and the other guests, they probably won’t get away with too much. Probably.’

‘That makes me feel a whole heap better,’ Mum replied dryly.

Nova grinned at her.

Dad burst through the door. ‘Karmah, has Mr Jackman deigned to tell you how long he’s staying with us?’ he asked.

‘No, he hasn’t. And as long as we have his credit card details, he can dither as long as he likes,’ Mum replied.

Nova wondered if she had time to slide out, tear down Dad’s latest notice and duck out of sight for an hour or so until he calmed down. It was worth a try. Edging behind him, she started to sidestep silently towards the door.

‘I’m not happy with guests not letting me know how long they plan to stay. How am I meant to schedule in future bookings if I don’t know when the guests are going to leave?’ Dad complained, adding without turning round, ‘Nova, for the last time, leave my notice alone. D’you hear?’

‘What future bookings?’ Nova piped up from behind him, peeved.

Mum glared at Nova, her expression piercing. Nova knew exactly what that look meant. They’d been at the hotel for almost two years now and Dad had tried just about everything to make Phoenix Manor more popular, but nothing really took off. The hotel was set high up on the gently sloping St Bart’s Head, overlooking St Bart’s Bay. To the front of the hotel there were stunning views across the bay to the sea beyond. The formal gardens behind the hotel merged into Siren’s Copse. Underground tunnels criss-crossed the land for miles around – tunnels where, centuries before, smugglers were rumoured to have brought silks and brandy ashore from continental Europe, using the secret underground passages to hide from the authorities. There was meant to be a tunnel entrance hidden in the bay somewhere and another one in Siren’s Copse, but no one had ever found them. In a setting steeped in local history, the hotel should’ve been a dead certainty for success – but it wasn’t. Business was slow, not to mention a constant worry. And as Mum pointed out, Dad didn’t need his family constantly moaning on and making him feel like a failure.

‘We do all right, Nova,’ Mum said, an edge to her voice.

‘Yeah, right.’ Nova headed for the fridge. ‘I’m thirsty. Any juice or something fizzy in there?’

‘Nova Alexandra Clibbens, don’t even think about it!’ said Mum as Nova raised the orange juice carton to her lips. ‘Use a glass.’

‘What’s that?’ Dad pointed to the piece of paper, now covered in flour, beside Mum’s pastry.

Mum picked it up. ‘Oh, that’s—’

Raye marched into the room. ‘Mum, I want you to—Is that one of my poems?’

Nova wasn’t surprised that Raye had spotted it. Her sister always did have eyes like a hawk.

‘Yes, but I . . .’ Mum spluttered.

‘Mum, how could you? My poems are private and personal.’ Raye snatched it out of her mother’s hand, directing a look at her that would’ve had a weaker person gasping for breath. ‘You’re worse than the twins.’

‘So what’s so good about your boobs that you wouldn’t change them?’ Nova couldn’t resist asking.

‘Mum, I can’t believe you! You let Nova read it?’ Raye asked, scandalized.

‘Why d’you want to change your boobs, Rainbow?’ asked Dad, getting hold of entirely the wrong end of the stick. ‘I hope you’re not thinking of plastic surgery or some other such nonsense at your age.’

‘Leave my boobs out of this,’ Raye said furiously, her beige cheeks now fiery red.

‘Raye wants to have her boobs done,’ Nova sang.

‘I do not!’

‘Raye wants to have her boobs done!’

Raye used sign language to tell Nova exactly where to go and what to do when she got there.

‘Rainbow, that’s quite enough of that,’ Dad admonished.

After glaring at Dad and scowling at Nova, Rainbow turned her attention to Mum. ‘I’m not going to forget this in a hurry,’ she snapped. ‘Thanks a lot for showing me up in front of everyone.’

‘Now wait just a minute . . .’ Mum said, once she’d scraped her jaw off the floor.

But she was talking to the closing kitchen door. Rainbow was long gone! The kitchen was stony silent as Mum turned to see Dad and Nova watching her. Nova drank her orange juice, looking away so she wouldn’t be blamed for what had just happened. Dad moved in to stand behind Mum.

‘What you need is a stress-relieving massage,’ he said, his fingers already digging into Mum’s shoulders.

Mum winced and tried to pull away, but nothing doing. Nova felt sorry for her. She had already experienced Dad’s massages at a time when she used to suffer from leg cramps. The cramps were less painful! Mum tried again to shrug out of his grasp, but Dad just held on tighter.

‘Ah!’ There was no mistaking the satisfaction in Dad’s voice. ‘Isn’t that much better? Let’s just work out those kinks.’

‘The kinks are all gone,’ Mum said hastily, trying to pull herself away. ‘Let go, dear. I’m getting pins and needles up and down my arms.’

‘Nonsense. Five minutes of one of my massages and you’ll be smiling for the rest of the week.’

By which time, Mum had had enough. She raised her hands to prise Dad’s fingers off her protesting muscles, starting with his little fingers first. ‘Tyler, back off! I’m not being funny but your massages are hellish!’

Dad’s hands dropped to his sides. ‘Pardon?’

‘Every time you give me a massage, it feels like a golden eagle has landed on me and is trying to tear off bits of my body.’ Mum rubbed at each of her sore shoulders in turn.

‘I see,’ Dad said with icy politeness.

Nova raised her eyebrows. Today obviously wasn’t Mum’s day for tact, but Nova could see she was still trying to work through the pain in her shoulders as she spoke!

‘If that’s how you feel, I’ll take my eagle’s talons somewhere else.’ Dad stormed out of the kitchen without another word.

Nova fought down a grin. ‘Shall I break out the bread dough, Mum?’ she asked.

Rubbing her throbbing temples, Mum replied, ‘Please!’

About the Author

Malorie Blackman is one of today’s most imaginative and convincing writers for young readers. She has won numerous awards for her books, including the Red House Children’s Book Award and the Fantastic Fiction Award, and has been shortlisted for the Carnegie Medal. Noughts & Crosses has been adapted for the stage by the Royal Shakespeare Company, and is soon to be a graphic novel.

In 2005 Malorie was honoured with the Eleanor Farjeon Award in recognition of her contribution to the world of children’s books, and in 2008 she received an OBE for her services to children’s literature. She has been described by The Times as ‘a national treasure’. Malorie Blackman is the Children’s Laureate 2013–2015.

ALSO BY MALORIE BLACKMAN

THE NOUGHTS & CROSSES SEQUENCE:

NOUGHTS & CROSSES

KNIFE EDGE

CHECKMATE

DOUBLE CROSS

BOYS DON’T CRY

THE STUFF OF NIGHTMARES

DEAD GORGEOUS

PIG-HEART BOY

HACKER

A.N.T.I.D.O.T.E.

THIEF!

DANGEROUS REALITY

THE DEADLY DARE MYSTERIES

UNHEARD VOICES

(A collection of short stories and poems, collected by Malorie Blackman)

FOR YOUNGER READERS:

CLOUD BUSTING

OPERATION GADGETMAN!

WHIZZIWIG AND WHIZZIWIG RETURNS

FOR BEGINNER READERS:

JACK SWEETTOOTH

SNOW DOG

SPACE RACE

THE MONSTER CRISP-GUZZLER

Praise for Malorie Blackman:

Noughts & Crosses

‘A book which will linger in the mind long after it has been read’ Observer

Knife Edge

‘A powerful story of race and prejudice’ Sunday Times

Checkmate

‘Another emotional hard-hitter . . . bluntly told and ingeniously constructed’ Sunday Times

Double Cross

‘Blackman “gets” people . . . she “gets” humanity as a whole, too. Most of all, she writes a stonking good story’ Guardian

Boys Don’t Cry

‘Shows her writing at its best, creating characters and a story which, once read, will not easily go away’ Independent

Pig-Heart Boy

‘A powerful story about friendship, loyalty and family’ Guardian

Hacker

‘Refreshingly new . . . Malorie Blackman writes with such winsome vitality’ Telegraph

A.N.T.I.D.O.T.E.

‘Strong characterisation and pacy dialogue make this a real winner’ Independent

Thief!

‘Impossible to put down’ Sunday Telegraph

Dangerous Reality

‘A whodunnit, a cyber-thriller and a family drama: readers of nine or over won’t be able to resist the suspense’ Sunday Times
www.malorieblackman.co.uk

TRUST ME
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 448 17205 4

Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Random House Group Company

This ebook edition published 2012

Copyright © Oneta Malorie Blackman, 2012

TRUST ME first published by Livewire Books in 1993
Copyright © Oneta Malorie Blackman, 1993

Extract from DEAD GORGEOUS
Text copyright © Oneta Malorie Blackman, 2002

The right of Malorie Blackman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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