The Language Of Spells Part 36

Ruby was already looking back at her vegetables, the giant Sabatier knife flas.h.i.+ng.

'Use your headphones if you're going to have the volume high,' she said absently.

Katie escaped upstairs. First she ate the sandwich, apple and packet of crisps she'd stashed in her room earlier. She didn't feel hungry, but the last thing she wanted was her stomach making embarra.s.sing gurgling noises when she and Luke were alone. She felt a swirly, stabbing sensation in her midriff and wondered whether eating was going to solve the problem. Then, she began preparations. She painted her nails electric-blue and tried to read while they dried. The text kept jumping around, though, reforming into Luke's face. She put the book down and got into bed. Lying on her back and staring at the snowy peaks of the Artexed ceiling, Katie ran through every encounter of the last few weeks. Their exchanges had been short and she'd memorised them almost word for word. If she closed her eyes, she could watch them again and again, like skipping back on a DVD. When she tried to imagine what might happen tonight, what it would be like to be with him, alone and out of school, her entire body went into tingling overdrive and her mind raced so fast, it all became a blur.

Time seemed to skip. One moment, she was looking at the clock and wis.h.i.+ng the long hours away and the next, she was creeping to her dressing table to apply eyeliner and mascara and wondering if she had enough time to change her clothes. Again.

Katie took the flask that the fixer had given her and unscrewed the top. It was white with daisies around the base, just like the woman's business card. Katie hesitated, but couldn't make herself believe that there would be anything dangerous inside a flask that cute. It was probably Vimto or something. The woman had said that she had to drink the lot in one go while thinking about what she called the 'object of her desire'. Katie closed her eyes and pictured Luke. Luke smiling at her. Then she drank. The woman had warned her that it was a herbal potion and an acquired taste. That was putting it mildly, Katie thought, as she drank the disgusting fluid. Once the flask was empty, Katie took several deep breaths, trying to stop herself from throwing it back up. It was only the thought of ruining the spell that stopped the churning in her stomach from becoming disastrous.

It was almost ten. Katie zipped up her black hoodie and pulled on her favourite blue gloves. They were fingerless and showed her newly painted fingernails perfectly. She added another silver ring to her left hand, twisting it the right way so that the moonstone faced outwards and checked the clasp on her apple necklace. She looked in the mirror and the girl looked back. She didn't look like herself. The black eyeliner and dark red lipstick made her look older, harder. Was it too much? She rubbed most of the red off with a tissue and looked again. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were sparkling and she thought a surprised a that she actually looked okay. It was now or never. Laughter from the TV was almost dulled by the closed living room door and Katie pictured her parents inside, cuddled up on the sofa. Her dad was probably lying with his head in her mum's lap and she'd be stroking his hair. It wasn't even that she thought it was gross. Although part of her did, a little bit. But it was more that it made her kind of ache inside. Like something was missing.

Her dad always locked the doors, even when they were all home. He said he'd seen a news story once that had made a lasting impression. She'd asked him for details, but his lips had pressed together so hard they'd gone white. Katie unlocked the back door and slipped out, locking it again behind her and pocketing the key.

She wasn't supposed to be in town at night at all, let alone on her own and without her parents' knowledge. The delicious thrill of leaving the house quickly morphed into fear as she pa.s.sed a pub and the door swung open, releasing a gust of warm, stinky air, and a burst of noise. The voices sounded adult and manly, almost violent.

Katie increased her pace so that she was speed-walking along the side street. She felt both better and worse as she crossed Milsom Street. There were more people around, which felt safer, but the huddle of smokers outside the Wetherspoons seemed rough and frightening.

The crowds petered out as she crossed from one side street to another, working away from the centre and towards the leafy residential area of Bathwick. Lots of people had left their curtains open and rooms were lit up like stages. Katie saw bookcases and armchairs, fireplaces and tasteful wallpaper. Bath was so very civilised. Dead, she called it. Perfectly preserved, but soulless. She was itching for something new, something modern, something unequivocally alive. Something young. Okay, she admitted, she didn't really know what she wanted, but she trusted she'd recognise it when she found it.

Starting on Bathwick Hill, Katie steadfastly ignored her misgivings. Yes, it was dark and quiet and the trees were casting eerie shadows, but she wasn't going to turn back now. She'd come this far and Luke Taylor was waiting for her. She hoped he was waiting outside. She'd never been invited to one of Will Jones's house parties before. His parents went away fairly regularly and he and his big brother had become legendary for throwing wild events. Gossip was often flying around about the police being called or so-and-so being sick in the street or such-and-such losing their virginity under a pile of coats. Katie's mind refused to follow that line of thought any further. Luke was going to be waiting outside. He was going to hold her hand and walk her home afterwards. And then he'd kiss her. It was going to be magical.

Will's house was halfway up Bathwick Hill. It was ma.s.sive, set back from the road, and part of a row of similarly enormous properties. Katie had pa.s.sed curving driveways and high walls and, on the other side of the road, parkland and trees stretched out into the darkness.

Luke was standing at the bottom of the driveway and Katie's heart made a break for freedom via her throat.

'You made it,' Luke said. He had his hands in his pockets and his shoulders were hunched against the cold. 'Shall we?' And they walked up to the house together.

Katie felt a tingle that started at her toes and went all the way through her body. He'd been waiting for her. For her. It was like something from a film. It was way better than John Cusack standing on top of his car with his tragic eighties boom-box in her mother's favourite film. It was even better than Edward Cullen telling Bella Swan that she was his own brand of heroin. Or as good as, anyway. It was certainly the single most exciting thing that had ever happened in her life.

Inside the house, a wall of noise and heat hit her. Bodies were crushed in every room and on every available surface. Three girls Katie recognised from the year above were perched on a coffee table watching Will rolling a cigarette on top of a table mat on his lap. She hoped he had his fly zipped.

'Drink?' Luke made a gesture with his hand at the same time and Katie nodded.

He leaned down and yelled into her ear, 'Back in a minute.'

As soon as Luke's broad back disappeared into the press of people, Katie felt her confidence drain away. She fought her way to the nearest wall and stood against it, pretending that she came to parties all the time and chose to stand on her own. She tried not to be jealous of the couples dancing and kissing, the friends shrieking at each other. She tried to think aloof thoughts.

Five minutes felt like an hour, and Katie's skin was p.r.i.c.kling with embarra.s.sment and the heat so she was actually relieved when Freya Hallett threw sweaty arms around her and screamed an enthusiastic h.e.l.lo. 'Isn't this awesome?' Freya's face was bright red and s.h.i.+ny and her breath one hundred per cent proof.

Katie smiled and nodded.

'Have a WKD!' Freya shoved a bottle of blue liquid into Katie's hand. 'I've had four.' She stuck out a very blue tongue and collapsed into giggles.

Katie had first met Freya at Sat.u.r.day morning orchestra practice when they were at primary school. She'd played the viola and had carried a leather case for her sheet music which Katie had coveted. Now Freya was leaning her face on a patch of wall next to Katie, her cheek smashed into the patterned wallpaper. 'So. Hot.' Freya closed her eyes and didn't say another word.

Katie took a tentative sip from the bottle. It tasted like radioactive squash. At least she could pretend to be talking to the halfway-comatose Freya now, and Luke would be back any second. Surely. She sipped some more.

Katie was surprised to discover that she'd reached the bottom of the bottle. She was also quite pleased with herself. Apart from an inch of (disgusting) wine in her gla.s.s on birthdays and Christmas, she hadn't drunk alcohol before but she didn't feel at all intoxicated. Although she did feel slightly more affectionate towards Freya, who had slumped to the floor and was sporting a lovely pattern of indentations on her face from the textured wallpaper.

Katie decided it was time to find Luke. She ventured away from the solid safety of the wall and moved from one packed room into another. She was just beginning to wonder whether the house had any end when she found it. A big kitchen fitted with modern appliances and s.h.i.+ny granite worktops. French doors led out onto the garden and one was wide open and swaying in the wind. Katie went to close it before the wind decided to slam it and smash the gla.s.s. She stood, her fingers on the chrome door handle, when she heard a familiar laugh. A deep voice joined the laugh, soft and throaty and undeniably boy-like. The hairs on her body raised as her mind caught up with her vision. Illuminated by the lights from the house, Imogen was entangled with a boy. A tall boy with floppy brown hair. A tall boy with floppy brown hair and the delicious throaty voice.

Luke.

Katie didn't know if she'd made an involuntary noise, but at that moment Luke looked over Imogen's shoulder and into her eyes. Katie knew she must be framed by the door, lit up by the light of the kitchen like a television screen. She tried to force her face into an unconcerned expression, but that wasn't happening. Every muscle was frozen in misery.

'Hey,' Luke said. Unconcerned. As if it'd slipped his mind that his hands were all over her best friend.

Imogen turned and, seeing Katie, did a full double-take. It would've been funny in any other circ.u.mstance. 'I didn't know you were coming.' Imogen's voice was squeaky.

Katie turned and fled the scene with one thought: she was going to find another of those bottles of tasty blue. Another couple of those and perhaps she wouldn't care any more.

Chapter 24.

Gwen let herself in through her back door and dumped her bags onto the table. Cat appeared in the doorway, glaring at her with undisguised fury. He let out one of his G.o.d-awful screeches.

'In a minute, you impatient beast.'

Then she took a second look. Cat looked unhappy. His fur, which usually stuck up in random tufts around his face and neck, was standing to attention all over his body, like someone had just connected a wire and plugged it in.

Coldness dripped down her spine. What if someone was in the house? A knocking at the door almost made her cry out.

She wrenched it open, determined to be angry, not frightened. For a long moment, she stood on the doorstep looking out into the black and white garden. A flurry of snow whirled out of nowhere, obscuring her vision and the wind sc.r.a.ped across the skin on her face like razor blades. Gwen stayed motionless, squinting out into the blurry white, trying to see if there was someone there. 'h.e.l.lo?' Her voice was a weak thread, whisked away instantly by the gale. Another second and her hands began to burn from the icy cold. She stepped back inside, shut the door and locked it.

'I'm not scared.' She looked around the kitchen. 'I'm not leaving, so you might as well stop it.' Feeling bolstered, she went into each room of the house and repeated her mantra. 'I'm not scared. I'm not leaving.'

Gwen had almost convinced herself that she wasn't frightened any more when the phone rang. She jumped, then laughed at herself. So much for the mantra. It was Ruby, sounding as breathless and stressed as Gwen felt. 'Is Katie there?'

'No. Why?'

'She's not in her room. Her bed hasn't been slept in.'

Gwen looked at the clock. It was half past seven. 'Could she have left for school already? Made her bed?'

Ruby snorted. 'Get up early for school? Not likely.'

'Have you tried her mobile?'

'Only about a thousand times.'

'I haven't seen her; I'm sorry.'

'I'm going to call the police.' Ruby's tone was challenging.

'Okay, if you think-'

Ruby took a deep breath. 'If this is some kind of joke you two are playing on me, you'd better stop it now.'

Gwen was stunned. Just how irresponsible did Ruby think she was? How cruel? 'What on earth are you talking about?'

'I know you've been planning something. I'm not stupid. I know you want to take her away from me.'

'Hang on-'

'I won't let you. She's my daughter.' Then the awful sound of Ruby crying and the phone went dead. She'd hung up.

Gwen redialled and spoke the moment it connected. 'I haven't planned anything. I don't know where Katie is.'

There was a short silence then Ruby said, 'Oh G.o.d,' very quietly.

'When did you last see her?'

'Last night. She went to bed early. She had a sore stomach.'

'Okay. Have you rung around her friends?'

'David's doing that now.'

'I'm sure she's just gone to someone's house. Let me know, won't you?'

'Okay.'

After hanging up, Gwen paced the floor. She put the kettle on to make tea, and then discovered a mug of hot water, no tea bag, ten minutes later. Finally, Ruby rang.

'Any joy?'

'No.' Ruby's voice was bleak. 'Her hoodie's gone and her trainers, but her uniform is all here. She's not gone to school. We've rung the police.'

'Oh, honey. It's going to be okay. I'm sure she's skiving with a friend.' Gwen wanted to ask about boyfriends, but was worried she'd send Ruby over the edge.

'Was she seeing anyone?' Ruby was already there.

'Not that I know of. But you'd know better than me.'

'I doubt it.' Ruby's voice was so quiet Gwen had to strain to hear. 'I've lost her.'

'No. She'll turn up. She'll be okay.'

'Where is she, Gwen? Why wouldn't she leave me a note? She knows the rule. If you go out, you leave a note. On the fridge. There's a pad there. And one by the phone in the hall.'

'I don't know. I'm sorry.'

'Okay.' Ruby sounded so worried, Gwen wished Katie was with her, wished she could produce her like a rabbit from a hat. Ta-da.

Gwen held the phone for a moment after Ruby had hung up. There was only one other person she wanted to speak to, but they were over. She wasn't with Cam, she had no right to call him and he had no responsibility to pick up. She tried to concentrate, to process the news: Katie was missing. Gwen's stomach swooped lower. The phone rang and she realised that she was still standing in the same position, gripping the plastic casing tightly.

'She was at a party,' Ruby said. 'David just spoke to Imogen. She said she saw Katie there, but only for a bit and she doesn't know when she left or where she went. We're going to go and start looking.'

'I'll come and help.'

'No,' Ruby said quickly. 'Thanks, but she might come to your house. To see you. I want you to be there if she does.'

'Okay,' Gwen said. 'Keep in touch.'

'I can't believe she went out without telling us. I never thought she'd do anything so stupid.'

Gwen made soothing noises and steadfastly didn't voice her own thoughts. Katie was probably somewhere in Bath. Maybe with a boyfriend. When Gwen was a teenager, the only truly stupid things she'd ever done had been over a boy.

She made a cup of tea and carried it with her as she paced the house. A while later she realised it was cold and poured it down the sink.

Gwen looked out of the window; the snow had started again. Innocuous swirling flakes giving way to a steady fall of thick white. Snow that meant business. And Katie could be out in it. She gave in and called Cam. The need to hear his voice was overwhelming. They might not be an item, but they had been once. That had to count for something.

He answered the phone sounding wary, but his tone changed as soon as Gwen explained what had happened and she drew a few moments' comfort from his voice. He was sympathetic and positive. 'I cut school all the time at her age. She'll be at a friend's house watching films and eating crisps.'

'Absolutely.' Gwen tried to believe him. 'I really hope so.'

'I'll call Harry, though. Just to be on the safe side.'

Gwen's breath came out in a whoosh. 'Thank you.'

'And I'll come round after work...' he hesitated and in that silence a thousand unsaid words hung in the air '...if you want me to.'

'I do,' Gwen said. 'Please.'

Less than an hour later, and Gwen couldn't stand being in the house any longer. She checked in with Ruby and then walked through the town. She checked the park and the shops that Katie liked. She called everyone she could think of, but n.o.body had seen Katie.

At eleven o'clock, Ruby rang. Gwen s.n.a.t.c.hed up the phone. 'Is she home?'

'No.' Ruby paused. 'I want you to find her.'

'I've been all around the town. I checked Claire's and the park and-'

'No. I mean I want you to find her.' Ruby's voice was steady. 'Find her. Use the force or whatever you call it.'

Gwen was silent for a second, thinking, and Ruby misinterpreted.

'For G.o.d's sake, you're not going to hold a grudge now? You want me to apologise. I'm sorry, Gwen, I'm really sorry. I've been a s.h.i.+tty big sister. Now, please-'

Gwen cut across her. 'It's not that. It doesn't always work.'

'It's Katie. It's got to work,' Ruby said.