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Authors: James Dawson

BOOK: Hollow Pike
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Well, at least they didn’t laugh. Quite the opposite. Delilah moved to Lis’s side and took her hand, giving it a supportive squeeze.

‘I’m with Jack,’ Kitty said tenderly. ‘Some
one
killed Laura, not some
thing.
Mrs Gillespie is as mad as a box of frogs. Don’t listen to a word she
says.’

‘And dreams are only dreams,’ Delilah added.

A huge weight lifted from Lis’s shoulders. A problem shared was, in this case, a problem quartered. If Hollow Pike didn’t have a killer at large, it would be a pretty cool town.
‘So what do we do?’

‘We stick together and we don’t utter a bloody word to anyone. The police will catch the killer. It’s not our problem.’ Kitty was so confident that Lis drew strength from
her. Spiking her hair, Kitty opened the patio doors to make their getaway. ‘Let’s haul ass. We have a Laura Rigg memorial to attend. I’m gonna need Red Bull.’

‘Pupils returned to Fulton High School today, although police are no nearer to catching the killer of schoolgirl Laura Rigg. There is mounting pressure on the North
Yorkshire Police to make an arrest . . .’ The journalist’s massive back-combed hair was unmoving, even in the angry winds whipping across the entrance to the school.

Lis kept her head firmly down as she crept onto the premises. It was quite an eye-opener: her school looked like a film set. There must have been seven TV trucks, each with their own crew and
cameras.

‘This is a bit surreal,’ Jack muttered, as they slipped past a film crew.

‘Dalí surreal,’ Delilah agreed.

It took Lis a moment to work out what was wrong with the scene, and then the penny dropped. Nothing had changed. Year Seven boys kicked a football around, swearing loudly at each other’s
errors. Girls huddled together checking text messages. A group of Year Eight lads snatched girls’ bags for the ensuing chase. Year Ten girls sat on their boyfriends’ knees. A clique of
indie kids stood listening to their individual iPods.

Laura was dead, but everyone else lived.

‘Come on,’ Lis said as they arrived at the main entrance. ‘Let’s get this assembly over and done with.’

The most recent school photograph of Laura Rigg stood proudly at the centre of the stage, surrounded by a huge wreath, smiling sweetly at the room. The picture had been altered
to greyscale.
Is black and white sadder?
Lis wondered.
Is colour disrespectful?
Laura’s serene smile was peaceful and beautiful, so unlike the real Laura whose features had so
often seemed spiteful and twisted.

Lis and her friends squeezed in next to Rachel Williams, who had come prepared in her best black funeral outfit instead of uniform. In fact, most of Year Eleven seemed to be treating the
assembly as the official substitute to Laura’s actual funeral, which was apparently delayed while the police carried out their investigations.

Cameron Green was sitting very quietly with his friends, his face looking as if it were carved out of stone.

‘I don’t know how he dares show his face,’ Rachel whispered. ‘You know the police questioned him for nearly twelve hours. People are saying he did it . . .’

Lis said nothing.

The mood was dark and sombre. It seemed that mourning Laura was the new ‘in’ thing to do. Lis was acutely aware that most of the room had actively hated Laura, yet here they were,
sobbing into handkerchiefs and resting heads on friends’ shoulders. Guilt and disgust mixed in Lis’s stomach. As bad as she felt about planning Laura’s death with her friends, she
wasn’t now about to herald her as some sort of saint. Turning her head, she saw Nasima Bharat wailing gently in Danny’s arms, her elegant hand stroking his neck. Lis snapped her head
away as jealousy tore through her body. This was so inappropriate. Danny and Nasima, though? Seriously? Laura would have
loved
that.

Base instinct won out and Lis chanced a further backwards glance. To be fair, Nasima looked genuinely devastated, but did she really need to hang off Danny quite so much? Suddenly Danny looked
in Lis’s direction, squarely catching her eye. Lis whipped her head back, but she’d been busted.

Thankfully, Ms Dandehunt and Mr Gray entered the hall, hopefully drawing Danny’s attention away from her. A lectern had been erected next to the image of Laura and Ms Dandehunt took to the
stage.

‘Thank you for coming into school today, Year Eleven. We are all still mourning Laura and that will take some time. Sometimes it is possible to find comfort in normality; in these
turbulent waters it is my hope that Fulton High School can be a lighthouse for all of us. Some of Laura’s friends wanted to do a special assembly about a special girl, and I think it is a
touching way to remember Laura. So enough from me and over to the choir who are going to sing some of Laura’s favourite songs . . .’

The choir sung beautifully, although Lis suspected that choral versions of Lady Gaga songs, while thoughtful, weren’t entirely appropriate. Poppy Hewitt-Smith (tabloid favourite) had
written a dreadful poem entitled
Our Friend.
Lis resisted the urge to stand and walk out at that point. Harry Bedsworth was the last of Laura’s ‘friends’ to take the stage.
Without any make-up, she looked like Caspar the Friendly Ghost, her white hair blending with her face.

‘I wanted to say a few words about Laura,’ she started quietly. She took a deep breath. ‘You know, Laura could be a real bitch.’

A horrified gasp ran through the crowd. Lis turned and saw Nasima now sitting bolt upright, mortified.

‘Oh, come on, you all knew her,’ Harry continued, but she was barely holding it together now, her voice trembling. ‘She could be so mean. I was, like, one of her best mates and
she was mean to me all the time. She constantly took the mick out of all of us.’

Ms Dandehunt and Mr Gray edged towards the stage. Were they going to actually pull Harry off?

Behind her, Lis saw that Laura’s friends, Cameron, Fiona, Nasima and even Danny, looked massively uncomfortable, their eyes not daring to meet Harry’s.

‘The thing is, even though I loved her, sometimes I used to wish that Laura was dead.’ At that Harry’s voice broke into a sob. ‘You don’t know what it was like!
It’s all my fault!’

Her wails reverberated around the room. Lis felt tears pricking her eyes. She wiped them away. Self-absorbed, she’d imagined she was the only one Laura had affected. Apparently not.

‘That’s why I wanted to do this memorial,’ Harry finished. ‘Because I’m so sorry! And I’m going to miss her so much!’ Harry dissolved into a flood of
raw, real tears. Mr Gray tentatively climbed the stage steps and embraced his student. She buried her face in his chest as he walked her quietly off stage.

Ms Dandehunt quickly took the microphone. ‘Year Eleven,’ she began, catching Lis’s eye. ‘I think what Harry said is very important. When someone dies, we might feel a
little bit guilty because maybe we rowed with them, or thought negative things about them, but that’s human nature. We are what we are. None of us are to blame for this tragedy.’

Lis was overwhelmed by a fresh urge to cry. Instead, she clutched Jack’s hand.

‘I think it’s time the choir sung us out. It’s a difficult day for everyone.’

Memorial over, all Lis had to do was survive an afternoon of Art and she could fall into bed. Harry’s outpouring had been oddly cleansing. Maybe this searing guilt she
felt was normal after all.

‘Lis!’

She looked around and saw Danny weaving his way through the crowd of mourners towards her.

‘Lis, hey! I was hoping to catch you. Can I have a word?’

Lis became aware of three pairs of eyes watching them intently. Kitty, Jack and Delilah were choosing not to take the hint. ‘Sure,’ she told Danny. ‘I’ll catch you guys
in the shelter?’ she said pointedly to her friends.

Jack and Delilah could hardly contain giggles, while Kitty grinned. ‘Be good, London!’ she said.

Her friends headed off, glancing over their shoulders. Lis’s cheeks flushed.

‘You sticking around this afternoon?’ Danny asked. ‘Some Year Elevens are allowed the afternoon off, apparently.’

Despite her shock at Danny seeking
her
out, Lis remained collected. ‘Yeah. I just have Art. Should be easy enough.’

‘Are you heading for the canteen?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Cool, can I come?’

She smiled, continuing to walk. He seemed nervous. ‘Are you sure Nasima won’t mind?’ Lis asked.

‘Nasima?’ Danny repeated, looking confused. ‘Oh, right! I guess that assembly got a bit heavy. She was upset, that’s all.’

‘Ah, OK.’ She chose to accept the sketchy excuse. ‘Poor Harry, her speech took some balls.’

‘For sure,’ he agreed. ‘She was right though. I’ve felt sick with guilt since Laura died. Like I could have saved her somehow.’

Lis dared to give Danny’s arm a tiny squeeze. She hoped it seemed platonic. ‘You can’t blame yourself. We don’t know what happened to her. It’s for the police to
sort out.’

‘I know. It’s just that I sort of rejected her. Twice, actually. Maybe if I hadn’t . . .’

‘That’s crazy talk—’

‘I know, I know! I know all of these things, but it’s like I can’t get the voices out of my head.’ He drifted off and sat on the steps outside the cafeteria. Rubbing his
hands on his trousers, he seemed to be searching for words.

Lis sat next to him. ‘What’s up?’ she asked gently, not wanting to appear nosy.

‘Nothing. It’s just that this seems really wrong.’

‘What does?’

‘Well, I’m trying to ask you out.’ Danny glanced at her for a split second and then looked away. ‘But it seems really awful to do that with all this Laura stuff going
on.’

Lis’s eyes almost fell out of her face. In a moment, her skin had become hotter than she could stand. Had she heard right?

‘You want to ask
me
out?’ The idea that rugby team pin-up Danny Marriott was interested in freaky Welsh new-girl Lis London was plain ridiculous, to her at least.

‘Yes. Well, if you want. I’m not sure where we could go. Maybe into Fulton or something? I’ve been wondering how to ask for ages. I’ve never really asked anyone out
before. I mean, I’ve pulled, obviously, at parties and stuff, but that’s not like this . . . I was worried I’d make a mess of it. Every time I speak to you I seem to say something
really bloody stupid and—’

‘Danny?’

‘Yeah?’

‘You’re babbling. Before you
do
say something stupid, I’ll just say “yes”!’

He smiled and looked at her properly. His eyes made her heart beat so fast she had to look away.

‘Really?’ he asked.

The broadest smile broke out on Lis’s face, matching his expression. All the toxic thoughts in her head briefly vanished as she bathed in the yellow sunshine of this moment. ‘Yes,
really!’

Danny raised an eyebrow, ‘God, now I’m really nervous! I’d sort of thought you’d say no.’

‘Well, sorry to disappoint you!’ Lis laughed.

‘No, no. It’s good. It’s awesome! I can’t wait. When are you free?’

‘Any time,’ she said far too quickly.
Well done, Lis, way to play it cool
. ‘Well, I don’t think I have too much on . . .’

With a violent jolt, her phone vibrated in her bag.

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