Chapter 3
Mabel
Zoe was sitting on a kitchen chair, hunched over the table. Her chin resting in her hands, she stared at me wide-eyed. Even with the lingering drowsiness and in the neon glare of the ceiling lamps, her gaze was intense and piercing.
I could never hold out very long when she looked at me like that. I turned swiftly away, stirring the pot of spaghetti with a fork.
We’d bumped into each other thirty minutes ago, in the shared kitchen.
It was after nine, and at this time of night we usually had the space all to ourselves.
On Fridays, the others generally headed into the town centre, to spend the evening at one of Cambridge’s countless pubs.
Usually, Zoe was one of them, but today she had other plans.
For twenty minutes now she’d been talking about the ‘event’ that Ashton had invited her to.
Or rather, us, if I was going to believe her.
‘Zoe, honestly,’ I began, when I could no longer ignore her eyes boring into the back of my neck, ‘don’t you think you’d have more fun without me?’
She snorted. ‘Without my best friend? No, I don’t think so.’
I resisted the urge to point out that, last time, we’d spent all of five minutes together before I’d ducked out and she’d swanned off with Ashton.
I didn’t really like the idea of telling her where I’d been.
And with whom. So far, I’d been evasive, explaining that I’d gone for a nose around the building, but I was afraid that running into not-Cliff again might lead me to reveal more.
Zoe would probably say the poor guy had a self-esteem problem, and that’s why he gave me a fake name.
That I should give him a chance to explain himself.
But I didn’t need any explanations from him.
The way he’d reacted to me earlier told me everything I needed to know.
He was simply a liar who thought he was better than me.
And I didn’t want to talk or think about somebody like that.
Let alone spend another evening in his company.
I put the colander in the sink. ‘Right. And what kind of event is this, exactly?’
‘Don’t say it like that,’ Zoe replied, sounding disgruntled.
‘Like what?’
‘You know, like’—she drew air quotes—‘event.’
I chewed my lip, avoiding her eye. Hurriedly I drained the pasta, grateful for the cloud of steam that rose up and veiled the look on my face. How were you even supposed to say that word without the air quotes? And wasn’t it kind of snobby to refer to a Friday night hang with friends as an ‘event’?
‘So, what happens at these … get-togethers?’ Admittedly, the euphemism still sounded suspiciously air-quotey.
‘No idea.’ Zoe shrugged. ‘Something amazing that we absolutely cannot miss out on?’
‘He didn’t tell you what they’re planning?’ I eyed the look of childish euphoria on her face with concern. I didn’t know anybody with as little innate mistrust as Zoe.
‘I didn’t ask.’ She shook her head. ‘Why do you always have to know everything? Just take things as they come.’
Right, sure. Because I had such a great experience last time. Silently I put the pasta into two bowls and added a tablespoon of walnut pesto to each. Zoe smiled gratefully as I sat down and slid her a portion across the table.
‘Why are you so keen to go, anyway? It was only yesterday he stood you up,’ I said carefully, after she’d taken the first mouthful.
‘Ash didn’t do anything wrong, not when you really think about it. I mean, he didn’t say he was definitely going to call. A maybe isn’t a commitment.’
It took a lot of effort not to contradict her.
I knew it was what she needed to believe if she wanted to like Ashton, but I still thought she was wrong.
A maybe can mean lots of things, but usually it’s a way of giving someone false hope.
Especially if what you really mean is never.
It was inconsiderate and selfish. Definitely not what I wanted for my best friend.
Zoe sighed. ‘Okay, don’t give me that look, like I’m some pathetic woman letting herself get taken advantage of. Ashton isn’t a bad person, Mabel. In fact, he’s been a total gentleman. We haven’t even slept together yet. He hasn’t even tried it on. I think he genuinely likes me, you know?’
‘All right, then why aren’t you spending time alone, just the two of you? Don’t you think it’s weird he’s always dragging you along to see his friends, like he’s bringing them a present, like you’re his little “contribution” to the fun?’
The word was out of my mouth before I could think twice.
I could have bitten off my tongue. Zoe had seemed so unlike herself after the party that I never told her about my lovely little chat with Ashton’s friends.
Before I had time to explain or backpedal, she raised a hand and glared at me, her eyes flashing fury.
‘Okay. You know what? I’m going to go out tonight and do whatever the hell I want.
And I’d really like you to come with me.
Because I love you, and because I think it would do you good to switch off for a bit.
But if you don’t want to, that’s absolutely fine.
’ She stood up so abruptly that the wooden chair rasped unpleasantly over the linoleum.
‘But stop making me feel guilty about it. I don’t have to justify why I’m doing stuff that makes me feel good, Mabel. Not even to you.’
I opened my mouth, but she was already storming out of the kitchen. Slumping back into my chair in resignation, I stared at her empty seat. Guilt throbbed dully somewhere behind my ribcage, mingling with a vague anxiety that refused to dissipate.
I was prodding morosely at the tepid pasta when I heard a sudden knock behind me, making me jump.
The best thing about our kitchen was the patio.
In summertime we often used to eat outside, sitting at the picnic table in the shade of the pink magnolia trees.
In autumn and winter, however, we usually kept the sliding doors closed.
You could use that door to reach the college, but we tended to prefer the main entrance.
I was surprised to see the outline of a figure through the glass. I stood up uncertainly and walked over to the door. It had begun to rain again a few hours earlier, blurring the night outside into a near-impenetrable veil of blue and grey. It took me a second or two to realise who was there.
I hurried to slide the door open, letting in a rush of chilly air, and clutched my wool jacket more tightly to my chest. ‘Davie, what are you doing here?’ I shook my head, staring. He was soaked to the skin. ‘You’re wet through. Come in.’
Davie shook his head. The greenish kitchen light cast dark shadows across his features, and I couldn’t read his expression.
‘I just have to—Okay, listen.’ His voice sounded rough, and halting.
Oddly unfamiliar. Leaning in, he fixed me with an urgent look.
I could make out the expression on his face now: concentration, and a deep undercurrent of anxiety.
‘I just wanted to quickly tell you something.’ He took an audible breath.
‘I think you were right. Ashton isn’t a good guy.
And nor are the people he hangs out with.
That … that group is bad news, Mabel. Really bad.
The kind of people you want to give a seriously wide berth. ’
I stared at him, perplexed, trying to make sense of his words. ‘What do you mean?’ I took a step towards him. Water was soaking into my socks, but I barely noticed. All of a sudden, I was cold, and not just because of the rain: I was shivering more inside than out.
Davie ran a hand over his cropped black hair. ‘I can’t tell you any more right now. Just trust me, okay? Stay away from them. And whatever you do, don’t go to any more of their parties.’
I couldn’t quite decide whether to be amused or disconcerted. The result was a crooked grin. ‘Wait, so you’re telling me the guy Zoe’s hanging out with tonight is – what? A threat? And you expect me to let her go alone?’
He shook his head vehemently. ‘Tell Zoe she can’t go either.’
My pulse began to race, although I still wasn’t sure what Davie was really telling me.
Part of me didn’t doubt him, because he was putting into words exactly what I’d felt all week.
The feeling I couldn’t explain to Zoe because I didn’t understand it myself.
‘It’s Zoe. You know what she’s like, Davie.
In what parallel universe would she listen to me?
Especially if I don’t even give her a reason? ’
I took a deep breath. This whole thing was silly.
Sure, Ashton probably wasn’t the decent, kind-hearted person Zoe wanted him to be, but that didn’t mean he was dangerous.
We were talking about a bunch of spoilt, cliquey undergrads here, not the mafia.
Besides, I knew how Davie could get sometimes.
When he was working on a story, he had a tendency to get carried away, so whatever he thought he knew about Ashton, it might turn out to be nothing.
I forced my lips into a placid smile, perhaps as much to reassure myself as him. ‘Come on, Davie. What’s really going on here?’
His brow creased deeply, the muscles tense in his jaw. I could almost hear the cogs whirring. Then he shook his head jerkily and focused on me. ‘I’ll explain everything, just give me some time, okay? I want to be completely sure.’
‘God, you sound like we’re the main characters in some cheap horror flick. You know, low on budget, high on gore. That kind.’
I crossed my arms, trying not to shiver.
I wasn’t sure if it was the cold rain against my skin, or Davie’s warning.
As much as I tried to think rationally, to explain away what he was telling me, the look on his face made me uneasy.
I felt like I was under threat from something I couldn’t see.
Like I could be attacked at any moment, and there was no way to tell what it was or where it might come from.
Davie gave a hoarse laugh. ‘Jesus. You don’t have a fucking clue, Mabel.’
I frowned, confused, but he was already backing away. The grey rain obscured his shape, and I caught only a hazy glimpse of his eyes, still fixed on me intently. ‘Keep away from those people. Please. Promise me.’
There were several retorts and questions on the tip of my tongue, but something made me bite them back. Even in the bluish dusk, I could see his pupils were clouded with worry. So instead, I gave a weak smile. ‘Sure. Fine.’
He nodded, relieved, and turned to go. ‘I’ll text you tomorrow. Look after yourself.’
‘You, too,’ I replied, but he was already leaving, passing through the arbour on the other side of the patio and vanishing into the night.
Just as I slid the door shut, heart pounding, Zoe walked into the kitchen. Without so much as a glance in my direction, she dumped her bowl in the sink and opened the fridge to take out a bottle of wine.
I girded my loins. ‘Zoe.’
She turned to me, the gleam of irritation in her eyes as striking as the shimmer on her lids. ‘For the hundredth time: I’m going, Mabel. I respect that you don’t want to come with me, but you also need to respect the fact that I’m not staying here, okay? You can’t—’
‘Fine,’ I interrupted, giving up. There was no point trying – it was impossible to persuade Zoe not to go. Besides, how could I explain something I didn’t even understand myself?
Listen, Davie was just here, and he said your new boyfriend is a really bad guy. He wouldn’t give me any details, but would you mind breaking off all contact with him anyway, pretty please?
Even I wouldn’t buy that. There was nothing I could say to stop her. And nothing, after what I’d heard from Davie, that could stop me going with her.
Sorry, Davie, I thought, then I cleared my throat and put on a conciliatory smile. ‘I actually just wanted to ask if I can come with you after all.’