Say Her Name (17 page)

The outline of the face stopped and turned quizzically towards her. ‘What is it you want?’ Bobbie muttered, terrified. ‘I’ve done everything you wanted … I tried and tried to help you … why won’t you just leave me alone?’ Why her? Why, out of all the girls in all of the world who’d said her name? Why had Mary latched onto her like a parasite?

The face retreated, slowly, almost trance-like. Bobbie clung to the door frame like it was a life raft. Mary’s power was stronger than ever, but apparently she still needed a reflective surface to cross properly into reality.

‘Let me out.’ Bobbie leaned her head against the door, knowing that no one was listening. ‘Please,’ she added feebly.

The dingy room was still. The walls were just walls. The only sound was her own ragged breathing. Bobbie, her back pressed to the door, scanned the cell. Mary wouldn’t give up so easily, not when she had a captive audience. ‘Mary?’ Bobbie whispered. ‘Where are you?’

Drip.

The noise was louder than ever. Closer.

Drip, drip.

Bobbie saw it. High above her head, heating pipes ran across the ceiling – vanishing into the wall at both sides. There was a rusted joint in the centre of the antiquated pipe and Bobbie saw a thick, fat droplet leak from the corroded part. It trickled down the joint, pooled like a teardrop, hung for a second before plummeting to the floor with a moist splat.

Bobbie’s mouth fell open. This was Mary. She was making it happen.

Drip, drip, drip.

The drops started to pool in the centre of the linoleum. Mary was creating a way in. The drops turned to a dribble, the leak worsening.

Bobbie turned back to the door and pounded on it with both fists. ‘Oh my God, get me out of here!’

A hand as white as chalk reached through the puddle.

Chapter 24

Bobbie heard a key twist in the lock. The opening door smacked into her and threw her forward, almost into Mary’s waiting fingers. She felt hands grab her shoulders and pull her backwards out of the room. Bobbie slammed the door shut, hopefully trapping the dead girl within.

She whirled around to find herself face-to-face with Caine. Falling into his arms, he moved her into the safety of the corridor. Buried in his chest, she could only dimly hear the continuous droning clang of the fire alarm. ‘You’re okay,’ he whispered into her hair. ‘You’re okay.’

Looking up, she kissed him hard on the lips. This was for several reasons. One, she’d never been so pleased to see
anyone
in her life – she would have considered kissing Mrs Craddock. Two, it was Caine. Three, she’d really thought she was never ever going to see him again, and if it were the case that there were no more kisses, she wanted a really good finale. She pulled away, but he didn’t let her out of his arms, like he couldn’t bear to let go either. ‘You’re alive,’ she said breathlessly.

‘I am.’

‘How … ? How did you get back in?’

‘I set off the fire alarm … couldn’t you hear it?’

‘Not in there … but I wasn’t alone.’

‘What?’ Caine whipped his head round to look into the room. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I am now. We need to get away from here – I don’t know if doors can stop her.’ Clinging to one another they started down the corridor. ‘What time is it?’

‘Nearly three.’

‘I’ve been in there
all
day
?’

‘Pretty much. This place has been crawling with police. I had to wait for them to head off before I risked coming back inside.’ He handed Bobbie her glasses. ‘Here, these were on the shelf outside.’

It was so thoughtful she almost kissed him again, but it would have to wait. ‘I guess they’re looking for Naya.’ Bobbie tried to get her head back in the game. ‘They’ll have to check she hasn’t run away or whatever before they announce anything.’

Caine took her hand and pulled her towards the dining room. ‘Come on. We haven’t got long. They’ll work out it’s a false alarm in no time and someone’s bound to remember you were shut in there.’

Bobbie followed him towards the exit by the kitchens. She knew that, during fire drills, staff and students had to report to the hockey pitches. That gave them a few minutes at least, but not enough time for her to change or even grab some shoes. She tugged on his hand to slow him down. ‘Thank you for coming back for me.’

He looked puzzled. ‘Are you kidding?’ He appeared to search for the right words. ‘I got your back.’

She smiled, knowing that was as much as he could reasonably say so early into their relationship, if indeed that was what it was. ‘Thank you.’ And just so that they were both sure of their relationship status, she kissed him again. She was going to exploit every last remaining minute.

He blushed. ‘Come on. Getting me excited isn’t going to help me run away … ’

Bobbie realised what he meant and was about to comment but he was already pulling her towards the exit. The fire alarm continued to ring as they ran into the quad connecting the old building to the Millar Wing. The sky was a violent bruise, as dark as the middle of the night. Rain teemed from the sky, bouncing off the concrete flagstones. Vast puddles formed like lakes across the courtyard

Bobbie let go of him and held her hands over her head. ‘Wait. Where are we going?’

Caine stopped and stood in the centre of the courtyard, rain running down his face. ‘I dunno. Just away from here before I get arrested for kidnapping you or something.’

‘We’ll head to the graveyard. Maybe we can find –’ She saw what was going to happen way too late. The first thing she thought when she saw that Caine was standing slap bang in the middle of a giant puddle was,
He’ll get wet feet
. The second thing was … ‘Caine!’

A marble-white hand reached out of the water and clamped itself around his ankle. As he realised what was happening, Caine’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open in a shocked, silent scream.

His foot disappeared into the puddle as if a trapdoor had opened up below him, the hand pulling him in. By the time Bobbie reached him, he was swallowed up to his waist. ‘Caine!’ She grabbed his right hand with both of hers and tugged as hard as she could. He weighed so much more than her and whatever held him was
beyond
strong.

‘Bob—’ Caine gritted his teeth, his left hand looking for something to grab hold of. His fingernails scraped along the wet paving stones trying to gain a hold. He was submerged to his chest.

Bobbie pulled back with all her might, throwing herself backwards, using her feet to anchor herself. It wasn’t enough. Her knees buckled and she fell onto her bottom, being pulled along with him. ‘Don’t let go!’

He sank to the neck. Caine tipped his head back to stop his face going under. Bobbie wrenched on his arm, feeling his shoulder pop. It was no good. ‘Bobbie,’ he said. ‘I –’

Caine closed his eyes as he went under, only his arm sticking out of the water. ‘I won’t let go of you!’ Bobbie hissed through her teeth. Her wet socks scraped along the slabs and she struggled to find a grip. His hands were wet and her fingers slid over his skin as if he were covered in grease.
Don’t let go
. With a cry, Bobbie felt Caine being torn away from her.
I will not let go of him
.

Toppling forward, Bobbie fell head first into the puddle.

darkness

total darkness black and blind

Caine … don’t let go … Caine … please … Caine … CAINE

falling

fading

formless

nothingness

endless and infinite

Where am I?

Bobbie Rowe

Caine?

void

vacancy

vacuum

Bobbie Rowe

Where are you? Where was his voice coming from?

My arms … I can’t feel my hands

dissolving

evaporating

weightlessness

howling, screaming wind. A storm. A gale.

Bobbie Rowe

Caine, Caine, I’m falling. I can’t stop.

Crumbling … decay … hollow …

smoke … shell

Bobbie Rowe

emptiness hopelessness sorrow ache suffering grief misery torment

a light

a window

I see it … I see it

Bobbie Rowe

Chapter 25

Hands outstretched, Bobbie tumbled through the mirror and landed in the centre of a well-trodden rug. Rolling onto her back, she gasped for air, like she’d been drowning in the darkness. It felt as if the emptiness filled her lungs. Scanning herself, Bobbie checked to make sure she was back in one piece.
Two arms, two legs …
she was okay. What
was
that place? It felt like … like
oblivion
. She’d felt so, so lost and alone. In that wilderness, she’d had no form, no physical sensation, only a feeble consciousness being tossed on stormy waves.

‘Caine?’ she croaked. ‘Caine?’ There was no reply. It was his voice. His voice had guided her to the mirror, so where was he? Was he still in that … nightmare?

Bobbie forced herself to breathe steadily and took in her surroundings. She was in a dingy, smoke-filled room. She’d landed in front of a low coffee table around which four plump, old-fashioned armchairs were arranged – bottle-green leather with metal studs bolting the material around the frame. An overflowing ashtray sat at the centre of the table.

Under the dark window, a single green banker’s lamp shone over a desk piled high with exercise books, ready for marking. Feeling stronger, Bobbie pulled herself off the rug, her legs still jelly (but at least she could feel them).
Wait a second …
she
knew
this room. It was Dr Price’s office. The mirror she’d fallen in through was the grand gilt mirror. Dr Price’s power-desk wasn’t there, but the gaudy gold mirror was still hanging where it always did.

Bobbie looked down at herself and saw she was back in the scratchy, vintage version of the Piper’s uniform. She was Mary again.

The door opened and Bobbie flinched behind one of the armchairs, half expecting Mary to burst in. Instead, a familiar masculine figure filled the doorway. Kenton Millar. He clocked her and his mouth fell open in horror. ‘Mary, what on earth are you doing in the staffroom?’ Ah, so in 1954, the Head’s office was a staffroom. ‘What are you thinking? We were supposed to meet in the graveyard at eleven, like always.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Bobbie said, unable to hold the words in. Mary had control of her. The words weren’t her own even if the voice was. Mary was
strong
now. With Mary manipulating her like an invisible puppeteer, she rose to her feet. This was no dream; she was living Mary’s memory and she was powerless to halt its progress.

Her teacher smiled and looked over his shoulder to check the coast was clear. ‘Not to worry. You’re here now, and it is getting a little nippy for the graveyard, isn’t it? I don’t suppose there’s anyone much around to hear us anyway.’ He pulled her into an embrace and kissed her hard on the lips. He tasted of cigarettes and strong coffee. With the dreamy gloss stripped back, he was repellent. She pulled back. ‘What’s wrong, my flower?’

Bobbie felt a fat tear roll down her cheek. Not her tears, but Mary’s. Bobbie could guess the next sentence before Mary moved her mouth to say it. ‘Sir, I think I might be pregnant.’

He flinched as if she’d hit him. ‘What?’ He exhaled long and slow. ‘You
think
?’

‘I … I am, Sir. I must be. Please don’t be cross with me.’ Bobbie couldn’t stop the words. History was playing out through her body and her hand now rested on her abdomen.

Kenton Millar clung to the back of the nearest armchair, threatening to tip it over. ‘Is this some sort of joke?’

‘No … no, Sir.’

He turned to her, his eyes cold and cruel. ‘And … and how do I know this child is mine?’

More tears fell. Bobbie’s head was filled with Mary’s confusion. Why was he being like this? ‘You … you are the only man I’ve ever … ’

He sneered. ‘What am I meant to think? I’ve heard all the stories … all the boys at Radley. I mean, you certainly seemed to know what you were doing.’

Bobbie keenly felt Mary’s bewilderment, her disbelief. This gentle, tender man: it was like when a dog turns on its owner – quick, vicious and violent. ‘I swear there’s no one else. This baby is yours, I promise.’ She could hardly breathe for tears. She held her arms open to him. ‘Please hold me. I’ve been so scared to tell you.’

Kenton Millar strode to the window, smoothing his slick hair with his hands. He turned back and reluctantly held her to his chest, stroking her hair half-heartedly. ‘There, there. It’s not the end of the world; it’s fine. You were right to come to me. It’s going to be fine. I have plenty of money and I’ll … I’ll pay for it to go away.’

Bobbie sobbed, feeling every ounce of Mary’s sorrow.
He loves me, so why is he saying these terrible things?
She pulled away from him, looking up in horror. ‘But … but that’s not even legal!’

‘For pity’s sake stop wailing, girl!’ he bellowed, clearly forgetting he could wake the entire school. ‘Don’t you understand? I already have a baby on the way!’

‘What?’

‘Mary, you were aware of the situation.’ How it had escaped her attention until now was a mystery, but there was a simple gold band on his ring finger. Maybe she hadn’t
wanted
to notice. ‘Look. I have a real chance of becoming the new Deputy Head Teacher here – I’m hardly going to let some silly mistake get in the way of all that, am I?’

‘Please!’ Bobbie begged. ‘You said you loved me!’

‘Oh, Mary. One day you’ll understand what this was. Just a bit of fun. It’s okay to have a bit of fun, everybody does it, but that’s all this can be,’ he murmured, trying to appease her. ‘You had fun, didn’t you? Do you understand?’

‘No! No, I don’t! This is our baby.’ Bobbie felt a surge of love – the pure, overwhelming love Mary felt for her unborn child.

His eyes darkened again. ‘Oh was that your plan? Get yourself pregnant so I’d leave my wife? Well, it’s not going to work, Mary, do you hear me? What? Did you think we could play at happy families? That we’d elope somewhere? It’s just not possible, Mary. You are my
pupil
– just a
girl
.’

Bobbie wiped her cheek with the back of a sleeve. He had
betrayed
her. The only good thing in her life was dead to her now. No reason to carry on, no reason to try. All the love inside her heart turned black, venom in her veins. She was going to cause him
pain
. ‘You can’t do this to me! I … I’ll tell people what you did.’

He almost laughed in her face. ‘You’ll do no such thing.’

‘I will!’

‘Oh and who’ll believe a common tramp like you? A
gypsy
. Like mother like daughter.’ He came closer and she felt his hot breath on her face.

Bobbie stood her ground – she wanted to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her. ‘I will. I’ll have this baby and tell anyone who’ll listen. I’ll say you took advantage!’

As she reached for the door, he seized her by the arms and dragged her away. ‘Listen to me, you bitch.’ Bobbie struggled against him, wriggling out of his grasp. She ran for the door, but he grabbed a handful of her hair to drag her back. Bobbie howled in pain. ‘There is no way you are having that … that
bastard
, you hear me? I don’t care if I have to take a knitting needle to it myself.’

Bobbie screamed as loudly as she could, the cry shaking the walls. Millar tried to clamp a hand over her mouth, but she squirmed away. ‘Keep still!’

‘Help me!’ she cried. Adrenaline coursed through her body and she made a final, mighty bid for freedom, but Millar yanked on her arm, swinging her like an Olympian hammer thrower. Twice her size, he sent her reeling across the room. Unable to stop herself, with no time to even cover her face, Bobbie careered into the gilded mirror. As her nose made contact with the glass, she both felt and heard a painful crack. She wasn’t sure which broke first – bone or mirror.

Dazed and woozy, Bobbie crumpled to the floor, trying to use the giant frame to keep herself upright. Her head was spinning, black stars dancing in her blurred vision. There was a loud snap – like a violin string pinging free. The floor beneath her felt like it was leaning in.

‘Mary!’ Kenton Millar cried.

It wasn’t the floor tipping
up
, it was the wall tipping
in
. No, not the wall, the mirror. It had come clean off the wall. There was nothing that could be done.

The mirror crashed down on top of her, and the last thing that Bobbie saw was Mary Worthington’s bloody, terrified face.