Tricky Girls (Girls of Hazelhurst #1)

24. CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 24

Nic

I knuckle Elly’s door quietly, careful not to disturb the room opposite. It opens, Elly already wearing a smile and holding aloft some wrapped gifts.

We tiptoe to Haz’s room. We don’t knock there. Haz is sprawled over the bed, one arm thrown above her head, sleeping the sleep of the not-so-innocent.

I stand at the foot of the bed, arms crossed.

This thing, this little ritual not really meant for us, began four years ago. For the six years before that, I hadn’t celebrated a birthday once. Haz, practically never.

Discovering that, we made it a thing to make them a thing.

I hold back an eyeroll every time Haz throws me a gift, takes me to some swanky restaurant or does all that shit with the balloons. Because I know it’s important. We had to become the family we never had.

Elly reaches over, running the backs of her fingers over Haz’s cheek. ‘Wakey, wakey, wifey-poos.’

Haz stirs. ‘Mmm, Tilda baby, that you?’

Elly flicks her gaze to me for my reaction.

I give her none.

‘No, your first wives.’

Haz cracks her eyes open. ‘Ah. You motherfuckers.’

‘Us motherfuckers with your presents, so sit up.’ Elly sits on the bed, depositing her gifts on Haz’s blanketed legs.

Haz gives her scalp a good scratch as she runs her eyes over the offerings. ‘Where’s Tilda?’

‘Asleep,’ I grunt.

‘Shame.’ She pulls a present towards her. ‘Did you get me that vibrator, Ells?’

‘What, the Tinglelus 2000? Yeah, pal, it’s there.’

Haz sniggers. There’re no sex toys, but a decent array of craft beer, some household items made up in that dark wood she likes and a new watch from yours truly.

‘Damn, my girls treat me right,’ she sighs, flinging away the wrapping paper.

I nod once. ‘And don’t you forget it.’

She holds out her arms. ‘Group hug?’

It’s the first of many eyeroll moments today. Her body moves against mine as she yawns. She smells of the cologne I gifted her the year before last. It’s all so familiar. It all helps seal the black holes of our pasts.

‘Grab my phone, will you. I heard it vibrate.’

I toss it to her from the nightstand.

‘Tilda,’ she says, lips ticking up.

I don’t suppress my eyeroll then.

‘She says I have to be ready for something by five. You guys know what?’

‘Yep,’ Elly says, with a smile that says Haz won’t be finding out anytime soon.

‘Hm.’ She casts her phone away. ‘Curious. She also says not to get up. Think I’m getting breakfast in bed, lads.’ She reaches up to stretch, the muscles in her arms flexing. ‘Fuuuuuuck, life is sweet.’

Unlike us, Tilda does knock. She enters with a smile and a plate in her hand, those tiny shorts of hers doing nothing to hide her scars. I flit my eyes over them. No new ones.

‘Looks like I’ve been beaten to the punch.’

‘No problem, we accept late arrivals. Especially if they look like you.’

Tilda holds out the plate with a flourish. ‘Here you are, birthday girl.’

‘Fuck, Tilda.’ Haz sits up to take the offering—all her favourite cooked breakfast foods. ‘Marry me?’

Tilda chuckles. ‘Just for today.’ She returns to the door, eyes bouncing to me then quickly to Elly. ‘There’s enough for you guys too. Beans are still on the hob.’

‘Fuck, yes.’ Elly jumps up, smashing Haz’s wrapping paper into a ball with her hands. ‘Tilda, you’re a fucking legend.’

I rise more slowly. ‘Don’t be getting food all over the house, people.’

Haz snorts, shovelling in her beans. ‘Yes, Mum.’

‘You know there’s literally going to be no one at Vipers later?’ Tilda sips from one of Haz’s beers, the can bright yellow and depicting the Grim Reaper. ‘Everyone’s pretty much gone home already.’

We have the fake fire on, the widows shut tight, a video of a Christmas scene on the telly.

Bunch of damn old biddies.

Though it pisses me off, Tilda’s made a good day of it for Haz. We weren’t sure what to do with her until tonight but Tilda managed to fill the gap with attention, jokes and hugs whenever Haz demanded them.

For Haz’s sake, I’m thankful to her.

‘Yeah, that’s the point,’ Haz says. ‘We have the whole place to tear up. It’ll be fun as fuck.’

She pitches forward to grab another beer from the box but is stopped by Tilda.

‘Haz, you can’t.’ At Haz’s incredulous look, she says, ‘Not until later.’

‘Can’t drink on my own motherfucking birthday?!’

‘Seriously, you can’t drink anymore until after your surprise.’

That seems to assuage her.

‘Alright.’ She flops back on the sofa, pulling Tilda to her. ‘Do I get another birthday treat instead?’

Tilda puts her hand flat to her chest. ‘You’ve already exceeded your monthly allowance for that.’

Whatever that means.

When five o’clock rolls around, we’re traipsing through the forest, light bouncing off pine trunks from the headtorches Tilda insisted Elly and Haz will need.

‘Some kind of ghost tour?’ It’s about the billionth guess Haz has made.

‘Nope,’ Tilda says. ‘Though I’d be down for that. My birthday maybe?’

‘When’s that?’ Elly asks.

‘Not until next year.’

Yeah, still know that one. It’s the same as mine. Some weird synchronicity we’d been thrilled to discover as kids, but now just feels like a cosmic joke.

She leads us around the edge of campus, on paths that have seen better days. In the distance there’s the bobbing of other headtorches and the thrum of quad bikes.

‘Happy birthday!’ Tilda grins when we reach the small group. ‘Have fun and try not to die.’

‘We’re off-roading?’ Haz exclaims. ‘Tilda, you beaut!’

She picks her up, swinging her around in a harried circle before landing an open-mouthed smacker on her lips.

My eyebrows twitch. Didn’t know things had progressed that much.

Tilda pushes her away, her head ducked.

Embarrassed by the witnesses, I hope, and not that a girl’s kissed her.

‘You’re with me,’ Elly tells Haz with a grin. ‘Fucking race ya.’

They roar off after some instruction, taking a path towards the far west end of the island.

I watch their lights until I can’t see them anymore. Then I steel myself and turn to the only one left.

‘Didn’t know if it was your thing,’ Tilda says quietly. ‘Also didn’t think you’d want anything to do with something I bought.’

Fair.

‘I’ve got shit to do anyway.’ I shrug.

It’s a quiet walk home, the silence only interrupted when I spot an owl sluicing through the pines. Tilda looks surprised when I grab her to show her. It was instinctive and I kick myself for it the whole way back.

At the lodge I waste no time in pulling out the balloons, streamers and other shit me and Elly managed to scrounge up.

Tilda sits with a cup of tea on the sofa. She fidgets, eyes ping-ponging between me and the telly. Don’t know why she doesn’t just fuck off upstairs. No need to torture us both.

Once I’ve found the pump, I settle on the floor and unpack the balloons. They’re all black with the number 20. It’s gonna look more like a Halloween party than a birthday but what Haz wants, Haz gets. At least for today.

‘Can I help?’

I glance up. Tilda’s kneeling near me, watching what I’m doing.

I chuck her a pack and get back to it.

She’ll have to blow them up herself. Hopefully she’ll pass out.

After I’ve done a few balloons, I stand to take off a layer. It’s warm as hell in the house. They turned the thermostat up for Tilda’s benefit when she first moved in.

Tilda watches me remove my jumper, but then when is she not fucking watching?

I’m not wearing a bra under my thermal. I don’t often bother; my tits are small.

Tilda’s definitely wearing one, the lace peeking out the top of her strappy black vest like some sort of tramp. Warm from the beer, I can’t pretend I hate it. She’s got nice tits. Perky. Proportionate to her body. And I’m getting a great view of them from up here.

I’m still getting over that lapse the other night. I’d been dulling the ache in my ankle with whiskey. A dumb thing to do with the pain killers I was on. But I’ve been known to do the odd dumb thing or two. So brazenly checking Tilda out being one of them.

I’ve never said she’s not attractive; I just hate that she is. Hate that I’m not immune.

Because I should be. After all our history, it’s fucked. It makes me feel like him. Like Damien.

But that fucking velvet dress…

Tilda peeks at me when I harshly exhale.

I get to my feet before she asks anything, spreading out a banner over the fireplace.

I feel Tilda’s eyes on me, so I’m not surprised when she eventually says, ‘So you do birthdays but not Christmas?’

‘Rather celebrate Haz’s birthday than some Jewish guy’s.’

She seems to find that funny and I keep my back turned so she can’t see my lips twitch.

When the moment dies, something darker slinks its way in. I keep the door open, letting it through. I have to do this more and more. Remembering why I hate her, remembering what she did. Some days it’s just so damn easy to forget. And that’s dangerous.

I bring up the worst things—a ten-year-old finding her dad hanged. Her arm snapping after his dead weight falls on her. The six years of hell following.

And yet, none of that compares to how I felt when I lost Tilda.

And that— that —is the thing that brings back the anger.

‘Why don’t you go upstairs?’

‘Huh?’ Tilda looks up from the balloons. ‘Why? Need something?’

‘For you to get out of my face. The others aren’t here, we don’t need to be pally.’

Tilda looks around herself. ‘I’m not. I’m just helping. Being normal.’

I grit my teeth. ‘Tilda, fuck off.’

She frowns. ‘But why? I thought—’

‘Then you thought fucking wrong!’ The balloon pump’s in my hands and I launch it at the fireplace, watching the pink plastic crack and spray on the marble. ‘Just fuck off!’

For a second, she’s a deer in headlights.

Then she laughs.

She fucking laughs, bending over and covering her face to smother it.

‘Sorry.’ She waves a hand. ‘That just reminded me of something I said to Elly the other day.’

I step towards her, jaw clamped, but she raises her palms to ward me off.

‘It’s cool. I’m leaving.’ She gets to her feet, toeing away a balloon. ‘Fucking psycho.’

Tossing her head, she stomps up the stairs.

I stare at the balloon pump, a shard of plastic right near my feet. I pick it up, regarding the pointed edge. I think of what Tilda would do with this, what she uses to make those scratches of hers.

I run it over my forearm, watching it redden then bleed.

Doesn’t do much for the rage. Not like beating a tree, the blows vibrating up your arm, that second your knuckles split, how the pain numbs the more you punch.

I toss the shard away. Cutting’s for pussies.

Kicking the pump aside, I carry on decorating. Haz’ll be back soon and I want this done.

Tilda

I don’t go back down until I hear the others return. Haz booms my name, hollering at me to get my hot tush downstairs so she can snog me. I don’t let her do that, but I do allow her to crush the ever-loving breath from me in a hug. Elly gives me one too, her cheeks flushed from both cold and excitement.

‘That was fucking mint.’

‘Fucking mint,’ Haz agrees. She holds up one of her craft beers. ‘Can I drink now?’

I nod. ‘Get as sloshed as you like.’

‘Cheers.’ She takes in the decorations as she chugs it. ‘Joint effort?’

I roll my eyes. ‘Helped a bit, didn’t I, Nic?’

‘Yeah, that whole one balloon,’ she retorts.

Belching, Haz thumps her chest with a fist. ‘Good to know you two are getting along as usual.’

Yeah, not.

After a hasty dinner of beer and stir fry, we head upstairs to change. Getting to Vipers before ten is normally a bit of a taboo, better waiting until the party’s really popping off later. But since we are the party tonight, we choose to head out early.

I pull on some black shorts and a leather jacket, knowing Elly will protest if I don’t at least have my arms covered up against the island’s chill. By the time I’ve done my makeup, the others are ready. Over Haz’s music, I hear her and Nic revelling around downstairs.

Knowing neither have much in the way of patience, I grab a bag and head out.

On the landing, light’s still spilling from Elly’s room. She’s sat on the edge of her bed, typing on her phone. Her shirt’s unbuttoned, gaping open to show a long length of skin and some serious side boob.

I’m so distracted by that that it takes me a moment to notice the look on her face. It’s not happy.

‘Hey.’ I wait for her to look up. ‘You okay?’

She hesitates, looking back at her phone before shaking her head.

I enter her room, closing the door behind me. ‘What’s up?’

‘My fucking mum,’ she bites out. ‘She’s taken another overdose.’

‘Oh, fuck.’ I falter, not having expected that. ‘She okay?’

Elly huffs. ‘No. I mean, she’s alive. Not dead or anything. But it means I have to go home—like now.’

‘Oh.’ I nod, trying to catch up to the situation. ‘Okay.’

‘Fuck, Haz is going to be pissed!’ She drops her phone to the mattress, burying her head in her hands and rocking. Her shirt gapes wider but I try not to look.

I reach out to stroke her back. ‘Not your fault, Elly. Haz’ll be fine.’

She nods silently, reaching under the bed to pull out a suitcase. ‘Look away a sec,’ she mutters, pulling off her shirt.

She’s swapped it for a jumper by the time I open my eyes, dragging open drawers and stuffing clothes in the case.

I remain there on the bed, not having a clue how to help and feeling useless for it.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says, not looking at me. ‘About Christmas. I really did want you there.’

‘Well…I can still come, can’t I? With you now?’

Elly hesitates, glancing at her phone. ‘I really need to be on the next ferry.’

I get up and head for the door. ‘Okay. I can do that. Five minutes. You go and tell Haz what’s up.’

I hadn’t prepared for an extended stay so I just stuff a handful of extra underwear into my tiniest suitcase, along with my makeup bag, jeans and jumpers—clothes you can wear for a few days before having to wash.

My heart’s pounding, scared for Elly, sad for Haz.

When I make it downstairs, they’re in some kind of standoff.

‘Haz, just leave it,’ Nic cajoles, palm up to stave her off.

‘Well shit, Nic, it’s not my birthday every day, is it? She fucks off practically every weekend.’ Her dark eyes flash. ‘Back to her perfect little family. Who gives a fuck about Haz, hey? Fucking fuck up that she is.’

I open my mouth to argue—because is she being for fucking real right now?—but Elly shakes her head.

‘We gotta run.’ She takes hold of her suitcase, nodding to mine.

At the door, I glance back at Haz. Behind all her bluster, there’s real hurt in her eyes. She really was excited for today.

But like I said, not Elly’s fault.

Haz gives me a grim smile. ‘You too, huh? Nice one.’

Elly puts her hand on my shoulder, encouraging me out the door.

We’re practically alone on the ferry, everyone else having left over the weekend. We sit inside, nestled against the cold.

I rub Elly’s arm as she cries. Over Haz or her mum, I’m not sure.

‘Aw, fuck.’ She laughs tearfully, wiping at her eyes. ‘You definitely won’t be sleeping with me now.’

‘Why, because you’re showing emotion?’

‘No, because I know my face will be blotchy to fuck.’ She wipes at her streaming nose. ‘I’m an ugly crier.’

‘You’re not ugly, Elly. You literally have the best face.’

Her eyes brighten at that, lips lifting into a pleased smile.

Fuck, she’s just so cute.

Putting my hand on her shoulder, I lean in to deposit the tiniest kiss on the corner of her mouth, breathless at how quick my heart’s beating. It’s not quite the kiss from Vipers, but it elicits some of the same feelings.

Elly stares at me. ‘That was decidedly gay, Tilda.’

‘I won’t tell Haz if you won’t.’

She sniffs, making a quick motion over her chest. ‘Cross my fucking heart.’

Settling back on the cold plastic seat, I blow out a steadying breath. I feel like my brain’s got whiplash; God knows how Elly’s feeling. I suppose that’s obvious by her tears. I don’t even get on with my mum but I’d hate to receive news like that.

‘Haz was such an asshole,’ I huff, still unable to believe her reaction. And these two are supposed to be best friends?

Elly leans back with a sigh. ‘Nah, she’s valid. I didn’t tell her why we were going.’

‘What? Why not?!’

‘Dunno, just…they have the problems, you know? Not me. We can’t all be fucked up. Being the normal one has always been my role. They need me for it. It’s how I’m useful. Running around after the two of them.’

‘Elly.’ I shake my head. ‘That’s messed up, dude.’

She half smiles. ‘Yeah.’ Taking my hand, she runs her thumb over my cold-reddened knuckles. ‘Thanks for coming with. Sorry it’s gonna be shit.’

‘Don’t apologise. You need someone in your corner.’

She squeezes my hand with a grin. ‘Meeting the fam already.’

‘I’ve heard lesbians like to move fast.’

She laughs. ‘It’s true, it’s true.’

We’re quiet for a bit. I watch a couple opposite us. They’re sitting how we are, cuddled up and holding hands. Are they looking at us thinking we’re a couple too?

‘How long is it to yours?’

‘Couple hours. Hospital won’t be open so we’ll have to wait until tomorrow.’

‘Is she ill then?’

‘No, she’s fine. She OD’d but not dangerously. She’s still on the mental ward. Apparently she asked my grandad to bring her a pillow and she had pills stashed in there. Not a lot, thankfully. Drugs are super controlled where she is so she couldn’t get her hands on much.’

‘That’s still terrible.’

‘Yeah, Grandad feels awful.’ She sighs heavily. ‘Gonna be a shitty-ass Christmas, that’s for sure.’

‘Least you’ve got me. I’m here for you. Anything you want, I’ll do it.’

That gets her smiling again. ‘Careful. I might take advantage of that.’

‘If it cheers you up, I’m game.’

Elly shakes her head. ‘You’re a gem, Tilda, I swear.’

Apart from the kitchen, the house is dark when we get out the taxi. It’s late, gone midnight. It was a rush to catch the last train but we just about made it.

Elly’s quiet as she leads us up an alleyway between houses. The row of them is exactly like my mum’s, tiny, squished and red-bricked. Slightly better neighbourhood though.

I hear a dog barking on the other side of the back door and a woman trying to shush it. Elly knocks and pushes it open.

‘Incoming,’ she murmurs, stepping out the way so the dog can greet me.

He’s a huge thing, muscled and strong as hell. I push down to stop him from jumping up, scratching behind his ears as he leans against my legs. I’m assuming this one’s Beau. It’s a struggle to shift him so I can enter the galley kitchen.

It’s balmy in there, a tight squeeze with the two of us, the dog, Elly’s nan and several cats tiptoeing on the counters. In the room next door, another dog yaps.

Elly’s nan is a stout, light-haired woman wearing makeup that’s almost as heavy as mine. She leans on a walking frame but steps away from it to greet her granddaughter.

‘Hey, Elly-Belly.’

They share a long hug, twin sighs escaping them. I look way feeling like I’m intruding.

‘Sucky time, huh?’ her nan murmurs.

Elly nods as she draws back. ‘Anyway, this is Tilda.’

I give a stupid wave as I straighten from Beau, feeling inexplicably shy all of a sudden. ‘Hi.’

Elly’s nan smiles, heavily outlined eyes crinkling up. ‘Hiya, love. You alright? Welcome to the mad house.’ She laughs loudly, slapping a hand over her mouth with an oops. ‘Don’t wanna wake up the kiddies,’ she hisses.

I smile, the tension inside unspooling some. I expected her to be more, I don’t know, grandmotherly. Someone sweet and syrupy and old fashioned. Someone who wouldn’t like someone like me. Knowing she’s a brash old northern bird, bit like my mum, puts me at ease.

‘Everyone in bed then?’ Elly asks.

‘Yep. Everyone but your brother. I’ve told him to turn that telly of his down.’ She twists her lips and lowers her voice. ‘He seems kind of angry over the whole thing.’

Elly nods as though this isn’t news. ‘We might just crash too, if that’s alright.’

‘Completely alright with me, chickie. Was just waiting up for you two. Do you need food before I go?’

‘No thanks, we ate earlier.’

‘Alright. Tonnes of Christmas food about. Get yourselves tucked in.’ She nods at me with a smile. ‘Nice to meet you, Tilda. Thanks for being there for our Elly.’

Arms ladened with Pringles, shortbread and our cases, we sludge through the garden to the tiny shed in the corner. It was a fight to get Beau not to follow us. I can still see him bouncing at the window.

‘It’s gonna be freezing,’ Elly says, kicking open the door, ‘but there’s a heater and an electric blanket. I’ll get them on.’

I dump my suitcase with hers, peering round the tiny place. ‘This is so cute. Proper little den.’

‘Yeah.’ She pulls back the quilt and lays down the electric blanket. ‘Don’t worry, the sheets are all washed.’

She toggles the blinds then flips the lid of her suitcase. ‘Mind if I strip?’

‘Not if you don’t mind me watching. Well, not watching, but you know—just being here. Not really anywhere I can escape to.’

Elly smiles wickedly, yanking down her trousers. ‘Watch away, babe.’

The space heats quickly but we ruin it by opening the door so we can spit out toothpaste as we brush. Neither of us fancied riling up the dogs again.

‘If you need to pee in the night, just wake me up and I’ll take you.’

‘Sorry, don’t really like people watching.’

Elly rolls her eyes. ‘I won’t watch. Not unless you invite me to.’

She lets me lie down first so I get the wall, telling me I look like the wall type. She’s not wrong, even if she won’t elaborate on why she thinks that. With the electric blanket on, it’s like getting into a bath. I moan as my body shudders. ‘Cosy.’

‘Will be with the two of us in here. It’s not exactly a queen size.’

Something I find I don’t mind.

Once we’re settled side by side, our shoulders brushing, Elly falls quiet and I know she’s got her mum on her mind.

‘You okay? Dumb question, I know.’

‘Yeah, just…wish I knew why she keeps doing it. I know she’s mentally ill. I know that’s why. But it’s just so hard. She doesn’t act ill, apart from the whole trying to kill herself thing. Like, literally, if you met her you couldn’t tell she’s got all that going on. My brain keeps telling me she’s just being selfish but I know that’s not true. I know she’s actually sick but it’s always a shock when she does something like this.’ She shakes her head with a sigh. ‘It’s like a flip switches and she just goes into these suicidal rages. I mean, there’s always a trigger, but it’s usually something tiny.’

‘What was the trigger this time?’

‘Fuck knows. Just an accumulation of everything, I think. And yet I find myself angry that she did it now . Just before Christmas. I don’t care about me, but the kids… If she had to do it, why couldn’t she just wait?’

‘I’m sure everything you’re feeling’s super valid.’

‘Yeah?’ Elly smiles at me in the meagre light. ‘Gonna therapise me, Dr Tilda?’

I chuckle. ‘Sorry. That sounded really super standard and useless.’

‘No, you’re good.’ She studies me for a moment before turning away when she tears up again. Groaning, she rubs her eyes. ‘Fuck.’

I reach out tentatively, putting my hand on her arm, feeling relieved when she entwines our fingers.

‘Can I big spoon you?’ I offer.

‘Be any sized spoon you like, babe.’

She rolls over, pulling my arm with her so it’s around her body. She’s as warm as the blanket, her back broad and crazy comfortable to lie against.

I try dozing off but each time I open my eyes, it’s to the light of Elly’s phone screen.

‘You texting your mum?’

‘Yeah, and Dan. Dunno if she’ll be getting them though if her phone’s died. They’re not allowed chargers in their rooms.’ She sniffs and the light disappears. ‘I’ll go see her in the morning. I’m scared they’re gonna section her again.’

‘Sorry you’re having to deal with all this.’

‘Yeah. That’s life I suppose.’

‘You should tell the others.’

Elly grunts.

‘Come on, they’re your friends. They’d want to know.’

‘Scares me that they don’t sometimes. Like, I know they like me, obviously, but as funny old easy Elly. I don’t want to become just another problem for them.’

‘Never figured you for a crisis of confidence.’

‘Yeah, well, I’m vulnerable tonight.’ She yawns around her smile. ‘Kinda glad we’re not at Vipers right now. I’m wiped.’

‘Did the others make it?’

‘Dunno. Not asked.’

‘Haz will come round. Can I tell her? Not all the deets, just the basics. That your mum’s unwell.’

Elly shrugs. ‘Do what you like.’

‘I just don’t want her being mad at you.’

Elly reaches back and pats me. ‘Thanks for caring, pal. You kinda rock.’

‘So do you. That’s why I care.’

She murmurs sleepily, shifting under my arm. I press closer, sweet-smelling tufts of hair brushing my face.

Yeah, I just can’t see myself doing this with Tommy. The thought genuinely makes my skin crawl. I suppose it’s because he’s not my type. But then, neither are these girls. Yet cuddling up to them feels like second nature. Maybe they’ve just worn me down. They’re certainly relentless in their fruitless pursuits of me.

Although, how fruitless are they if all I’m thinking about is kissing this one again?

I squeeze shut my eyes. This meandering won’t do me any good, not this late at night with everything going on. I’m still tipsy from all the beer; thoughts whirling like a wobbly fairground ride.

Taking a leaf out of Elly’s book, I will myself to sleep.