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Authors: Stuart Johnstone

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BOOK: Influence
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‘Okay people,
our time together fast comes to an end and I just wanted to take this
opportunity to thank you for your efforts this year and for your contributions
in class,’ Sully sat upon the foremost desk, arms held wide as he addressed his
depleted students. ‘This type of class doesn’t work if everyone isn’t on board
with the collaborative idea and you all embraced it. I hope you’ve taken
something from it beyond the pursuit of exam success; I know I certainly have.
Intimate classes such as this one are a joy to teach and I wish you all every
success for the future.’ Sully appeared genuinely melancholy as the pupils
packed their books away. He made a point of patting the backs of their
shoulders as they left his class for the last time. ‘And remember people,
knowledge is power so arm yourselves and no man can stand against you.’ Lizzie packed
her books slowly, pretending to rearrange the contents of her bag, ensuring she
was last to leave the class. ‘I hope we’ll be seeing you next year Lizzie, and
I certainly believe you’re capable of it’ Sully placed a hand on her shoulder.

‘I’ll do my
best, I can promise you that much,’ she said.

‘And who
could ask more.’ Just then Vic arrived.

‘Walk you
home…Liz?’ Vic stuttered seeing Sully’s hand on Lizzie’s shoulder as if walking
in on something far less innocent.

‘All the
best Lizzie, do pass on my regards and a message of good luck to your brother
Victor. Not that he needs it.’ Lizzie smiled at Sully while she shovelled a
stern faced Vic out into the corridor.

‘I don’t
like that guy. He’s creepy’ Said Vic as he and Lizzie made their way across the
driveway, avoiding the four by four stampede as usual. A steady drizzle had
started to fall and the sky was a patchwork of increasingly threatening greys.
The parents within their brutish cars stayed inside them, only cranking a door
open when the appropriate student arrived.

‘Sully?
You’re mad. He’s a great guy. Best teacher I ever had,’ said Lizzie.

‘He tries
too hard, and just look at the way he was letching over you this afternoon.’
Lizzie suddenly understood where his attitude was coming from.

‘You would
feel differently if you’d taken his class, believe me. And he’s not a letch, he
was just saying goodbye, how many other teachers have done that?’

‘That’s my
point, it’s inappropriate,’ this made Lizzie laugh. His pouted lip made him
look like a five year old denied sweets. Vic’s hands were thrust ubiquitously
into his pockets and Lizzie hooked her arm through the crook at his elbow and
playfully pulled him in close as they walked. They made their way off the road
and into the shortcut through the woods. The rain had gathered fervour but
neither of them was particularly bothered as it wasn’t cold and besides it
brought out the smells of the wood, and the grass. The shower beat a steady
rhythm on the sparse canopy overhead and Lizzie, already feeling a little
nostalgic from her goodbyes with Sully, was reminded of Scotland where so many
of her memories bore a background of grey skies and rain. The wooded trail
turned to the left and opened out slightly, and the path ran downhill. To the
right a high embankment thick with trees blocked out the noise of the main road
which was only a few hundred metres away. To the left a rickety fence housed
fields of varying spring colours that stretched for miles. Lizzie hadn’t
realised just how lovely it was here, she guessed when the three of them made
this journey they would normally be lost in conversation, but since Vic was on
his own here his awkwardness made for a quiet walk. Also Lizzie’s unexpected
close proximity ensured he was utterly silent until his bodily functions spoiled
the calm. ‘Sorry, need to pee’ said Vic looking down at their knotted arms.’
Lizzie released him.

‘Go to it
Vic, I’ll walk further down, don’t wanna give you stage fright.’ Vic clumsily
made his way up the embankment looking for sufficient cover while Lizzie walked
down the path to where the fragile looking fence came close enough to lean on.
She stood facing the fields, her arms taking her weight as she looked out over
many miles of open vista. It struck her how quiet it was. The rain was the only
detectable sound, except of course for Vic’s crunching through undergrowth with
the occasional yelp of pain. No birds, that was odd, or maybe it wasn’t. Lizzie
wasn’t sure whether the rain kept birds quiet or not. She turned, leaning her
back against the fence, indifferent to her ever increasing saturation, Vic was
going to great lengths to find cover deep enough to satisfy his coyness. Lizzie
looked at her watch, getting impatient and was just bringing her eyes up again
when something caught the periphery of her vision. A swatch of grey-blue-brown
drew her attention. It was barely visible amongst the undergrowth just adjacent
to the path thirty metres or so further downhill. Were it not for the fact that
the colour was alien to its bright green and dark brown surrounding Lizzie
would never have noticed. She cocked her head to one side like a curious dog
trying to comprehend what she was looking at without having to go to the effort
of relinquishing her comfortable fence. There was something familiar about the
colour.

She gave up
and heaved herself from her position and started down the path. She had only
gone ten metres or so when she stopped dead in her tracks. The thing was slowly
coming into view, she couldn’t be sure yet exactly what it was, but what
stopped her was the realisation of where she knew that particular colour from.

Just then
Vic came lumbering down the path towards her, still adjusting his trousers.
‘Sorry about that, call of nature.’ The look on Lizzie’s face caused him to
pause. ‘You ok? You look like a ghost just flashed his knackers at you. What’s
going on?’ Lizzie glanced down the path and then back to Vic, not sure what to
say. She wanted to say it was probably nothing, but she couldn’t. Vic read her
concern and followed her gaze down the path. Lizzie saw his eyes narrow, and
then he started to move past her. Lizzie paused for a second then some instinct
made her reach out. She pulled on his arm.

‘Vic, wait.’
But he had spotted the same familiar colour and he shrugged her off adamantly.
Lizzie wanted to go after him but she couldn’t. She couldn’t move. She stood on
the path facing back the way they had come and she waited.

Impossibly
long seconds passed and Lizzie wrung her hands to stop them from shaking. She
was just becoming convinced that everything was okay, under the - no news is
good news - way of thinking when she suddenly knew it wasn’t.

Lizzie’s
wringing, shaking hands went to her mouth when she heard Vic emit a truly heart
shattering cry.

She wanted
to go to him, to help him. But she could only stand there, her back to him and
weep. Shuddering sobs broke through her as Vic howled.

Nine

 

 

 

Queen’s had
been closed for a few days; partly out of respect but mainly due to pressure
from the Police. The days following the discovery of Robe’s body had been a
blur. Lizzie couldn’t recall how many times she had attended at the Police
station to give statements, each time Janice had gone with her. She had taken a
leave of absence from work, which was completely unheard of and her bosses were
so shocked she had asked that they agreed immediately. Janice was determined to
be there for Lizzie in whatever way she needed her to be. She had never, and would
never forgive herself for not making it to her sister’s funeral and this, in
some small way at least, was her atonement.

Lizzie
appeared to Janice to be in a slight state of shock, she was distant, quiet and
tired. The visits to the police station had quickly become tiresome. Janice
spent hour after hour with Lizzie while she gave the same account of events
over and over. The bleak cold walls of the building made for a chilling
atmosphere and this was only the public facing section of the station, Janice
could only wonder how much worse it must be in the business end of it. Time and
time again the Police would thank Lizzie for her assistance and hollow empathy
was thrown at her with plain clothed officers telling her how hard it must be
and that they would keep things as comfortable and as brief as they possibly
could. No interview proved to be remotely brief and each was as far from
comfortable as they could possibly be. Still it was with a sense of duty that
Lizzie and her aunt continually attended, and Janice was prepared to continue
to dutifully entertain the police requests right up until the point where they
took Lizzie’s fingerprints – for “elimination purposes” of course. But after
Janice saw tears roll down Lizzie’s face as she tried to remove the ink from
her hands with a woefully insufficient paper towel she decided enough was damn
well enough. In the end the Police were told that if they wanted to speak to
her they could call the house to make an appointment and conduct whatever
business they had there.

The Police
had declared it a murder investigation right from the start but had declined to
go into detail about the precise circumstances and injuries which had resulted
in Robe’s death. Janice had feared the press would get wind of the fact that
Lizzie had been one of those to discover the body and would pursue her for
details, but they were either uninterested, or more likely unaware and had thankfully
left Lizzie alone.

Queen’s
re-opened its doors after a week had passed, with Mr Pallister eager to get the
students back to some sense of routine, no doubt under less than sympathetic
pressure from school authorities since exam week had already been pushed back
and a back log was now gathering.  

Janice
dropped Lizzie at the school gates. ‘You’re sure you’re up to this? Nobody
would blame you if you needed to take more time; in fact I think it might be
best,’ said Janice pulling on the handbrake. ‘The school said you were under no
pressure to do this today.’

‘Thanks,
but no. Apart from anything else I’m as prepared for this exam as I’ll ever be,
I need to get it done,’ Lizzie leaned over and hugged her aunt. ‘I’m fine.
Really.’

‘Call me
after? I’ll come get you.’

‘Okay, but
you needn’t bother. You should get back to work; it must be killing you to be
away from it.’

‘Nah, it’s
been nice spending some quality time with you. Well, nice maybe isn’t the right
word given what’s happened but it’s been good, you know? Besides the school
sent letters out to the parents telling us students need to be picked up until
further notice, that or teachers would drop students off at the end of the day.

Lizzie heaved
on the large front door of Queen’s, someone had gone mad with “Quiet, Exams in
progress” signs and they were plastered over doors and walls alike. A knot
tightened in Lizzie’s stomach. She was prepared, but she was also terrified. Of
all her exams this was her best shot at an A. She felt unforgivably selfish for
thinking that the past week or so had done nothing for her chances. She
wondered, but doubted, whether Vic would be at school today for the exam. She
looked about the corridors but saw no sign of him. Instead she saw only
concerned faces and whispered glances. There was a strange sullen atmosphere
about the place. Faces were grim and voices subdued, it was one of the eeriest situations
Lizzie had ever encountered. Usually the halls were buzzing between classes with
laughter and the squeak of trainers but today you could have heard a pin drop.
That was until she reached the lockers which aligned one of the particularly
long corridors within the school.

Bitch Tits
stood, his back pushed up against a locker with his rabble of minions jealously
admiring some device he was holding. Whatever profound effect Robe’s death had
had on the rest of the school had clearly passed them by. Lizzie halted in her
tracks when she saw them, she quickly ran through her knowledge of the school
layout wondering if there was an alternate route to the dining hall which was
now being utilised as an exam hall. It was too late though, Bitch Tits had
spotted her and was already whispering something to the boy nearest to him.
Lizzie pressed on, head down, bag clutched to her chest. For a moment she
thought she might make it past them unmolested but Bitch Tits stepped into her
path at the last second. Lizzie looked up to find him and his many chins
grinning at her. In his hand was a mobile phone, probably an expensive gift
from daddy. ‘Not. Today,’ she said with an echo of a growl. Bitch Tits stepped
back and Lizzie walked on. Bitch Tits waited a moment before sending after her:

‘Not in the
mood today Little Dyke? Yeah we understand, these exams can be just murder.’
Lizzie stopped, a fire burned in her chest, she so badly wanted to turn around,
but she dug deep and walked on.

Lizzie
entered the transformed dining hall. She reported to an exam invigilator at the
front of the hall who gave her a seat number which Lizzie was glad to discover
was right at the back. More grim, interested faces followed her as she found
her seat. She kept her head down, sat and arranged her stationery; she hadn’t
even noticed Amy at the desk next to her until she spoke. ‘Hey Lizzie.’ She
said leaning over and talking in a whisper. ‘You’re probably sick of hearing
this but I really am sorry about Robe. How are you?’

‘Thanks
Amy, I’m ok thanks. Glad to be back actually. I take it you haven’t seen Vic
today?

‘No, I was
just about to ask you the same, I guess he’s not coming. Poor guy, how is he
doing?’

‘Wish I
knew. I feel like such a horrible friend but I haven’t seen him since… I went
to the house a few days ago but it was a cop who answered the door and told me the
family weren’t up to visitors. I’ve tried calling, but nothing.’

‘It’s
understandable,’ said Amy. ‘And he’ll have his family around him.’ This made
Lizzie feel twice as bad. She hadn’t properly considered how all this would
affect Vic’s parents and how, as a family they might cope. ‘Listen’, said Amy
laying her hand on Lizzie’s forearm. ‘I’m sorry if this is totally
inappropriate but the offer for the end of exams still stands. I’m sure you
won’t feel up to it now, and that’s totally alright, but if you did want to get
out the house for a while then it would be great if you could come along’.

‘Oh yeah,
your brother’s gig? I’ll give it some thought. Thanks.’ The noise in the room
had been building slowly and Lizzie hadn’t quite realised how loud the
accumulated roar of conversation had become until a stunning silence fell over
the room leaving her ears buzzing. The exam papers were being handed out.

‘Students,
while your papers are being distributed can I just remind you of some rules you
should be aware of by now. The exam will last for three hours. If you finish
before this time you may leave SILENTLY, but only after two hours have passed,
you will be told when this period has passed. No technical instruments are
permitted so if you have them with you please place them on the floor or within
bags.’ Lizzie’s own paper landed on her desk with a thump, she arranged her
stationary once again and selected her favourite pen. ‘Now if we are all ready?
Good luck to you all; you may open your papers.’ The invigilator announced, and
the students began.

After two
and half hours had passed Lizzie stretched her aching arm and looked around.
Only a handful of students were still writing. Amy had already gone, she hadn’t
noticed. Lizzie took ten minutes to read back over her answers making small
adjustments here and there and gathered her things. Well, she thought, I can’t
do any more and now it’s out of my hands. She handed over her answer paper to
the invigilator and left the hall. Students gathered together asking one
another what they had written for different answers, she was tempted to listen in,
but had to remind herself that it would have absolutely no bearing on anything
now, so she walked on. She asked the librarian-receptionist if she could use
her phone which she was happy to allow. Despite the affluence of the majority
of students at Queen’s Bitch Tits was probably the only person with his own
phone, which Lizzie considered with some amusement, after all who on earth was
he going to call?

Janice
appeared soon after. Lizzie was forced to abide by school protocol and wait
within the building until Janice’s car pulled up outside. Her beat up mini petulantly
weaved between a couple of four by fours and Lizzie hopped in.

‘Well?’ asked
Janice making her way up the long drive, travelling far too quickly as always.

‘Well
what?’

‘The exam,
how did it go?’

‘Not sure,’
Lizzie lied, or at least held back. Her preparations, albeit thrown into chaos,
had been well made. She was confident she had done well, but didn’t want to
quite admit it to herself, just in case. ‘It went okay I guess.’

‘I’ll take
that to mean you smashed it,’ Janice patted Lizzie’s knee enthusiastically and
grinned at her.

‘Let’s just
wait and see,’ Lizzie couldn’t help herself, she grinned back, the first smile
in some time.

‘Hey, we
should celebrate. How about we go out for dinner, my treat?’

‘That
sounds great, but there’s something I really need to do. Would you mind
dropping me off?’

‘Course,
where to milady?’

Janice
waited in the car. It was getting dark and there were no lights on in the house
that she could see. She rang the bell and waited, and waited. She was about to
give up when a light went on in the hall. Mrs Adams appeared at the door
looking like she had just woken up. ‘Hello Mrs Adams, I’m Lizzie, a friend of
Vic… and of course Robe, sorry Rob. Um, I’m so sorry for your loss I can’t
begin to-’

‘The boys
are upstairs,’ said Mrs Adams. Lizzie noticed that she hadn’t even looked up to
see who it was at the door. She looked awful, her cheeks sunken and her skin
almost translucent. Her mind appeared to be fairing no better, she existed here
only in some tenuous corporeal sense her brain running through familiar
patterns on autopilot.

‘Thank you
Mrs Adams,’ Lizzie turned to Janice and waved the signal that she could leave
now, that she was in. She followed the frail woman into the hall. Mrs Adams
turned off the hall light as she opened a door to a sitting room briefly
illuminating Lizzie’s surroundings before closing the door and plunging her
into darkness. Lizzie wasn’t sure where the light switch was that had been
deactivated, she felt along a wall in vain before trying to picture her last
visit. She wanted to call out for Vic but didn’t want to disturb his parents;
she groped around and eventually found the banister that led her to the upper
floor. She recalled Vic’s room being at the far end of the corridor but the
only light came from a room half way along on her left.

She opened
the door to find Vic Sitting in an armchair within a bedroom which was the very
antithesis of his own. She stepped into the room, Vic’s attention was
elsewhere. Slowly his head turned to her, his eyes agape.

‘Jesus Liz.
You scared the living shit out of me,’ He breathed out hard and then smiled at
her.

‘Nice to
see you too,’ Lizzie smiled back. She looked around the room. Blank walls
encased an immaculately kept study. The only thing marking it as actually being
a bedroom was the bed itself crisply made. Heavy set bookshelves lined one
complete wall where intricate lines of books were organised in some order
Lizzie could not fathom. Some half-filled cardboard boxes on the floor created
the only disorder. Vic stood and Lizzie was shocked at how his face had
changed. Crags and valleys had replaced the planes of youth. ‘Oh Vic,’ she said
putting her arms around his shoulders.

‘Please
Liz. Don’t…’ He said gently pushing her away. ‘I can just about hold it
together until someone makes a sympathetic gesture, then I just lose it.’
Lizzie could understand that, what is about sympathy that pushes us over the
edge?

‘So this is
his room? Very, tidy.’

‘I know,
creepy isn’t it? Vic looked around the room with a smile that was forced. ‘It’s
so strange Liz, you know when you hear stories of people that have lost a limb
in an accident or something, and they say they can still feel the arm they
lost, like a phantom presence of it? It feels like that I think. He’s not here
but I can feel him. Like a tingle, just out of reach.’ Vic shrugged and took a
deep breath, pushing back his sorrow.

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