Saving Silence Page 6

  IMOGEN

  THURSDAY 14 NOVEMBER

  I walked back to Sam’s, wondering what to say to Tamsin. So much for a good turn! I thought of Jessie, with her placid, world-weary air, and my stomach twisted. I should go back to the park. She could still be there. But I was scared. What if those guys were still hanging about? What if they were trying to find me?

  I can’t, I thought. Now that I was OK my limbs were doing the jelly-like shaking thing I recognized from Saturday night. If I went back and got into more trouble I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to run.

  Jessie would turn up. Someone might have found her already. I hadn’t looked at her collar, but it probably had a tag on or perhaps she was microchipped. Or she might have tried to get home on her own. Though there was that bloody busy road between the park and Sam’s. Unless she was lucky, she’d never make it. Christ! If she got run over, it would be on my head.

  As I neared Sam’s, I half expected to see a dog-shaped mound in the gutter. When I turned the final corner I froze. There it was. A dark shape by the edge of the road. Not moving.

  A yap from ahead startled me. I looked up and there she was, standing at the front door of the house. The ‘body’ was a bin bag. I raced over, choked with relief.

  ‘Jessie!’

  She wagged her tail, then looked pointedly at the front door. Against the odds, she’d crossed that road. Man, for all I knew, she’d waited for the green man at the traffic lights! I didn’t care how she’d done it. I was just bloody glad she had.

  Back home no one was in. Dad usually left around now, but Mum and Benno should have been here. It was only when I was done showering that I remembered. Mum had an office party tonight. She’d mentioned she’d be popping home to get changed after work, but I was supposed to stay in to babysit Benno!

  Sorry, bro, I thought. He’d be none too pleased at having to sit in the corner at Mum’s work while she and her colleagues drank cheap wine. Wrapping myself in a towel, I rifled through my jeans to check my phone. Sure enough, Mum had called several times. I deleted her voicemails. I didn’t feel like listening to a ticking-off.

  Phone. That was what the guys in the park had wanted. Now that I was thinking straight . . . it was weird for me to run into a random mugging, given everything else that had happened. I mean – what were the chances?

  ‘Let it go, freak,’ I said out loud. ‘It’s not connected. Just bad luck.’

  *

  I settled down in the living room. Being home alone wasn’t something that happened often. I wasn’t sure how to kill the time. I didn’t fancy doing homework or watching TV. Normally on an evening like this I’d hang out with Nadina or Ollie, but Nads had enough crap on her plate right now and Ollie would go spare if he knew I’d been to Sam’s, not once, but twice.

  Where are you, Sam? I thought. He didn’t have friends that I knew of. Tamsin would’ve tried family. Was Sam afraid of putting people in danger? Was that why he’d kept everything from me? I’d tried texting him, with no response. Clearly he had decided to stop talking to me altogether.

  My phone vibrated. I was surprised enough to drop it. Jesus, I really was jumpy. Picking it up, I saw it was a text from an unknown number.

  We saw you both there. Give us the phone.

  I stared at those nine words. Slowly, then more rapidly, my heart began to pound. My thoughts leaped to the guys in the park.

  Phone, phone, phone.

  ‘How did they get my number?’ I whispered.

  Why would someone want my phone? It wasn’t new. There was nothing special on there. At least I didn’t think there was. I checked my messages and pictures. They were all regular things I couldn’t see being of interest to anyone but me. Could this text be for someone else? Not likely. Not after the park.

  I went to the front door and bolted it. Then I pulled the living-room curtains closed. If anyone was outside I didn’t want them to see me.

  We saw you both there. Give us the phone.

  OK, I thought. Three questions: Where is there? Who is both? And who is us? Actually, make that four. What the hell is so important about my phone?

  The doorbell rang. I shrank back, my breath catching in my throat. When it rang again I went to the living-room door, inching it open so I could see the front door. A shadow flickered behind the glass. One person. Someone tall.

  My phone vibrated. This time it was ringing. It was Ollie.

  ‘Hi,’ I whispered.

  ‘Hey,’ Ollie said. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Home. Ollie, there’s someone outside –’

  ‘Duh! That’s me!’ I felt my muscles ease up. ‘Who did you think it was?’

  I opened up. Ollie stood outside, wearing a striped scarf. He didn’t look too happy, and at the sight of me his frown deepened.

  ‘You look like a wreck.’ He said, leaning in with a hug. He smelt of ash. I wondered who he’d been with. Far as I knew, none of Ollie’s friends smoked.

  ‘You say the nicest things,’ I replied. We went to the kitchen and I poured him a pineapple juice. Ollie didn’t do hot drinks. He took the glass, looking at me quizzically as I leaned against the sideboard.

  ‘Someone bothered you? Need me to sort ’em out?’

  ‘I’m in one piece. Which, given tonight, is something.’ I waved my phone at him. ‘What do you make of this?’

  Ollie read the text. I took back the phone and told him what had happened in the park. I pretended I’d been walking the terrier from over the road rather than Jessie.

  Ollie frowned, massaging my shoulder with his free hand. It felt good. Comforting even. And he looked worried, more worried than I’d expected. It reminded me of how he’d been that afternoon when he’d given me chocolates. Perhaps we could get things back in that zone rather than all this stupid suspicion.

  ‘Do you think these guys got the wrong person?’ I asked.

  ‘Let me look.’ Ollie held out his hand. I handed my phone over.

  ‘I’m sure I’d know if there was something significant there,’ I said. ‘Anyway, you know what’s on there. You were messing round with it the other night and there’s nothing new since.’

  Ollie went into the videos folder, which was empty, then into the texts inbox. I saw the text from Sam at the same time he did.

  ‘So you don’t know each other,’ Ollie said, looking at me. ‘Right.’

  Crap, I thought. I took a breath. ‘There’s only one text there,’ I said. ‘All it says is “sorry”. I don’t know what he means or how he got my number. It doesn’t mean anything.’

  ‘I want to believe you,’ Ollie said. I reached out and took my phone from his hand, placing it in my pocket. Then I did the only thing I could think of. I leaned in and kissed him. At first I thought he was going to draw back, but after a moment he responded. I shifted into a better position, drawing my arms underneath his coat. He deepened the kiss. There was an intensity to it that was new to me. Did he want to move our relationship on from the comfortable normality we’d fallen into? I felt Ollie’s hand slip to the small of my back. Then I heard voices outside, Mum’s, mingling with the fainter um-mmm belonging to Benno. I drew back and Ollie muttered in annoyance. By the time Mum entered, we were standing as though we’d just been chatting. Footsteps from the hallway told me Benno had gone upstairs. Mum threw me a dirty look.

  I cleared my throat. ‘How was tonight?’

  ‘It would have been more successful if I hadn’t had to bring your brother along,’ Mum said. ‘What happened to you, Imogen? It’s not like you to let me down.’

  ‘I needed help with coursework.’ Ollie spoke before I could. ‘Like, emergency help. Im gave me a hand.’

  It was a rubbish lie, but Mum liked Ollie, and he knew it. To her mind, having a boyfriend clearly meant I was a normal, happy teenager. ‘At least you were making yourself useful,’ she said drily. ‘All right. Immy, just make sure you apologize to Benno.’

  I nudged Ollie, silently thanking him. We spent a few minutes making
small talk with Mum before Ollie made his excuses.

  ‘You don’t have to go,’ I said, leading him to the door. ‘We could watch a movie or something.’

  ‘I’m meant to have urgent coursework to do,’ Ollie pointed out. ‘Anyway, I’ve got something on.’

  I didn’t ask if I could go with him. That would just sound needy. But I felt miffed all the same. Much as I didn’t like admitting it, I could do with a bit more comfort. Why had Ollie even come over if he had to dash? And what about us? I’d been trying to prove something to him in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure the message had got through.

  ‘About Sam,’ Ollie looked over his shoulder as he stepped out. This time the smile was completely gone. ‘If you’re telling me the truth, why did you go round his house? Twice?’

  ‘I only went to see how he was. This accident – I think it’s linked to me somehow.’

  ‘How much do you know about Sam?’

  ‘Nothing! And that’s what’s so frustrating. He won’t tell me anything.’

  Ollie shook his head and walked away. I watched him cross the road, wishing I hadn’t messed up. I couldn’t blame him for not believing me. I knew it looked bad.

  Then a thought struck me. How had Ollie even known I’d been to Sam’s? There was only one person I could think of who could have told him.

  At eleven, just as I was getting into bed, my mobile went again. Before I even picked it up, I knew it would be another message from them.

  If you don’t give us the phone we’ll hurt your brother.

  I spaced out for a moment. Then I sank on to my bed, heart racing.

  SAM

  THURSDAY 14 NOVEMBER

  There were severe delays so I had to wait ages at Liverpool Street Station for the train I needed. Something about a ‘shopping trolley’ obstructing the line. Who does that kind of thing? I wondered, then realized that was a really stupid question. Vandalizing train lines was nothing compared to what the guys I was up against had tried to do.

  I was hungry so I went to M&S and filled a basket with sandwiches, brownies and chocolate. It was only when I was queuing up to pay that I realized I’d picked up far too much food for one person. What was I doing? I didn’t need to eat all that crap. I dumped the basket and left, angry at myself. All I seemed to be doing these days was screwing up. The only good I’d done at all recently had been with Benno.

  It had been a little weird meeting him properly. It was my first time mentoring at the school reading club. It wasn’t something I’d really wanted to do at first. My English teacher suggested it one day when I was helping her carry some books to her car, more because I had nothing better to do than because I was trying to be teacher’s pet.

  ‘We’ve got a few kids who find reading difficult and need some encouragement,’ she said. ‘I want to get a mentoring scheme going – buddy them up with sixth-formers who can give them more help and attention than they get in class. I thought you’d be perfect. Patient and kind, with a genuine love of reading.’

  It’s not every day you get told you’re perfect for something, so of course I said yes. Reading club might not be the coolest place to be, but I had nothing to lose and I liked the idea of being able to help people. The club took place after school in one of the English classrooms. Ms Taylor picked up a range of books from the library, many of which seemed far too basic even for Year 7s. When Benno sat down with me and started to read aloud, I realized just how wrong I’d got it. Just because I found reading easy, didn’t mean it was the same for others. He stuttered over every word, even short ones, which shocked me because he was quite articulate when he spoke. My heart really went out to him. I made sure to praise Benno as much as I corrected him and I tried my best not to be patronizing. I must have been OK, because by week three his reading was a lot more fluent. I couldn’t help feeling chuffed – with Benno, and also with me.

  ‘You’re really good at this now.’ I said. ‘Maybe you could try reading to your parents sometime. I bet they’ll be impressed.’

  I was a bit taken aback by his scowl. ‘They wouldn’t care. They don’t even know I do this club.’

  I asked him what he meant. And that was when I clocked he was Imogen’s brother, because out it all came – resentment about how uncared for he felt and how his parents were never around. When I asked if he’d spoken to his sister, Benno said, ‘She’s a robot. She doesn’t feel anything. No one would ever pick on her.’

  ‘I think we’d all know if your sis really was a robot.’ I grinned. Then, ‘Hang on. Benno, are you being picked on?’

  That was how I found out that Benno was being bullied. I don’t really know what it was that made him feel he could confide in me. Perhaps I’ve just got one of those faces.

  ‘I really think you should tell your sister,’ I said. ‘She used to be head prefect here – if anyone knows how to deal with this, it’s definitely her.’

  Benno went quiet. ‘She’s busy. She’ll think this is silly.’

  ‘You’re a tough one, aren’t you?’ I said. ‘You’re wrong. Definitely. Just because she isn’t all fluffy and cuddly doesn’t mean she doesn’t care. As a matter of fact, I know that your sister hates bullies.’

  Benno looked interested for the first time.

  ‘Let me tell you a story about your sis.’ I said. ‘When I came to this school, I was in a bit of a bad place. For lots of reasons I didn’t want to make friends or join in with stuff, and people got the idea I thought I was too good for them. I got Facebooked by people saying I should “go back home”.’ And nastier stuff, I thought, remembering the post from HotGirl1998:

  Y don’t u just go and kill urself now, world will b beta without u.

  ‘It was cyber-bullying, basically. I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t think anyone could help. It went on for months. I don’t know how your sister found out but she gave the people doing it hell. She even told the head teacher. A couple of kids got suspended, and one girl who was on a warning already even got expelled. Takes real guts to go to the teachers. It doesn’t exactly make you popular. Imogen risked a lot doing that – for me, and I’d not been very nice to her.’

  ‘What did she say about it?’

  ‘To me? Nothing. She’s not even aware I know what she did. Maybe she just saw it as a head prefect’s duty. But that’s how I know she’s kind, or at least fair. Even if she seems a bit of an ice queen.’

  Benno fingered the spine of the book we’d been reading. ‘So why doesn’t she notice me?’

  ‘It’s easy to ignore the people who are right under your nose. Trust her. What’ve you got to lose, hey?’

  Benno gave me a look that said he didn’t believe me. He made me swear I’d keep everything secret. I promised, knowing full well I was going to break it.

  I really hoped Imogen had sorted things out for him. Maybe I’d find out when I went home. When – if – this nightmare was all over.

  IMOGEN

  FRIDAY 15 NOVEMBER

  My mood that morning must have been obvious, because when I came down to breakfast Benno, who was sitting at the table with a bowl of Shreddies, stared at me.

  ‘You look like you want to kill someone,’ he said. ‘Like a superhero. It’s cool.’

  ‘I don’t know about cool,’ I said, ‘but believe me, I feel pretty bloodthirsty.’ I skirted a look at Dad, who was reading the paper. He was never normally around at this time. I asked him if he had the day off. He nodded.

  ‘Nice of you to mention it to us,’ I said.

  Dad frowned. ‘Should I have done? You’ve your own things going on.’

  My own things, which you have absolutely no idea about, I thought. Dad never asked what I was up to, and I doubted Mum filled him in. He probably didn’t even know which A levels I was taking. Or maybe I was just getting at Dad because I was in a bad mood and he was an easy target. I had briefly considered telling my parents about the text, but they’d just complicate everything. Mum would huff about me bothering her and tell me the threat
wasn’t worth taking seriously. Dad might say we should go to the police, but what could they do? We had no idea who’d threatened me and no way of finding out, as far as I could see.

  Deciding to ignore Dad, I perched on the side of the table by Benno. ‘Hey, what have you got on today after school? Stay safe, OK?’

  Benno gave me a strange look. ‘Just playing computer games at home.’

  ‘Good,’ I said, and picked up a bowl. I hadn’t forgotten last night’s text. What had happened in the park guaranteed that I was going to take the threat to hurt Benno seriously.

  I’d arranged to have lunch with Nadina in Greggs. She had free periods on Fridays and usually only came in for the afternoon. We could have met in the sixth-form canteen, but what I had to say wasn’t something I wanted others overhearing.

  Nads was waiting at one of the breakfast-bar seats by the window, sandwiches and doughnuts spread out in front of her.

  ‘Hey you,’ she said as I stepped in. ‘Got you your favourite chilli chicken bloomer. Last one left. There was this bloke eyeing it so I nabbed it. Thoughtful, eh?’

  I felt a pang inside and ignored it. I slid into the seat next to her.

  Nads frowned. ‘Whoa, who pissed you off?’

  ‘Let me tell you a story,’ I said, and filled her in about what had happened with Jessie. I showed her the texts.

  Nads swore. ‘What d’you think’s going on?’

  ‘Who knows? What I do know is that I’ve enough crap to deal with without Ollie going mental cos he knows I’ve been going round Sam’s!’

  Nadina didn’t even flinch. ‘You can’t blame him,’ she said. ‘I’d be pissed off too if my girlfriend had been going round another guy’s house. You have been kinda obsessed with Sam since the accident.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have this problem if you hadn’t told him!’