The Mute and the Liar (61 page)

What’s
wrong
with
you?

There’s
a
girl
who
lives
in one
of
those
Victorian
terraced
houses
a
couple
of
streets
away
from
you. She’ll be
valuable.

Why?

Haha.
Got
you
interested,
haven’t
I?
Her
dad’s
Detective
Chief
Inspector
Lewis.
Name
ring
any
bells?

Marty.

Bingo.
The
moment there was a
single
suspicion
good
old
Marty
Wilson hadn’t just
had one
two many
and
“
gone
for
a
swim
”
in
the
river,
Mr Lewis
was
assigned
to
investigate.

I
refuse
to
believe
someone
who
isn’t
supposed
to
exist
has
engineered
everything up until
now, has
planned
out
this
whole
escapade,
is
forcing
Jayce
to
do this.
That
makes
no
sense.
There’s
no
sanity
in
that.

This
person
wants
Jayce’s
mother
dead,
I
get
that.
So
why
not
just
do
it
themselves?
Why
go
through
all
these
measures
just
to
do
that?
It’s
ridiculous!
Why
would
they
even
want
Jayce’s
mother
dead
anyway?
What’s
it
to
do with
them?

I
just
don’t
understand.

I just don’t
understand!

As
well
as
being
terrified
a
person
has
been
watching
me,
there's
another
nauseous
feeling
swirling
in
my
stomach
and
prickling
at
the
back
of
my neck.
I’m
scared
because
I’ve
always
been
able
to
solve
whatever’s
in
front
of
me.
I’ve
always
known.
There
was
always
a
way
or
an
idea
I
could
come
up
with through
logic
and
rationality.

But
here,
no
matter
how
much
I
think
about
it,
I
can’t
work
out
anything.
I
try
and
try,
but
my
mind
just
keeps
pulling
up
nothin
g
.
I
am
fumbling
disorientated
for
the
light-switch
in
the
dark.
I’m
fighting
things
I
can’t
see.
I’m
standing
in
front
of things
I
don’t believe in.

Hopeless.

I’ve
had enough.
You
think
impersonating
a
dead
girl
is
funny,
do
you?
Who
said
anything
about
me
being
dead?

I
don’t
know,
maybe
everyone
at
the
funeral?
The
gravestone
in
Haycombe Cemetery?
Me
when
I
watched
them
do
it?

Whether
you
believe
that
I’m
alive
or
not,
the
fact
is,
I’m
here.
I’m
right here,
talking
 
to
you. And
no
matter
what
you
believe, you
can’t
deny
that.
I
want
to
help
you, Jayce.
And
then
we’ll run
away. We’ll
finally
be
together. That’s
all
you
ever
wanted,
isn’t
it?

I
have no leads, no
clues,
no
ideas.
There is
nothing
I
can
do now. And that
terrifies
me.

What…
What
the hell
is
going
on?

What
the
hell is
going
on?

4:30
PM

S
he’s
got
too
much
make-up
on.
It’s
as
thick
and
sticky
as
beeswax.
The
powder
shielding
her
face
has
started
to
crumble
and
so
now
her
skin,
though
seemingly
cleansed
of
all
blemishes,
has
blossomed
scales
instead.

The
red
lipstick
is
too
heavy
on
the
left-hand
side,
pulling
her
mouth
down
and
leaving
her
whole
face
looking
lopsided.
The
eyeliner
smokes
her
eyes
into
black
bulbs.
The
only
thing
pretty
about
her
is
her
chestnut
mane
of
curls,
very
much
living and alive.
T
he
y
tumble
and
twist
down
her
back,
entwining
and
knotting.
But they look dry. Ratty.
Everything
about her is fake.

Kaylie
and
I
stand and
watch
her, both
disapproving.

The
two girls
in
the
mirror
do
the same,
disapproving
us.
So altogether,
four
disapproving
faces
burn
through
me.
“
You look
miserable,
”
she
eventually
spits.

Hypocrite. Have you
seen
yourself
lately,
Miss
Havisham?
But
though
I
hate
to
say it,
she’s
right.

I
look miserable. And with
her
beside me we have enough misery
between
the
two
of us
to
fuel
Azkaban.

*****

4:43
PM

They’ve
all
gone.
Downstairs
probably.
I
wouldn’t
know.
Kaylie
slipped
out
of
the
room
about
fifteen
minutes
ago,
and
now
I’m
back
to
being
completely
alone in my
room.

My
room.
So
apparently
I’ve
even
started
calling
it
my
room.
I’m
going
to
start
calling
this
my
house
soon.
Who
knows?
Maybe
I’ll
even
start
calling
Jayce
my
family.
If
anything,
I
should
start
doing
that
now
–
I
mean,
if
it’s
going
to
happen
anyway,
why
wait?

I
lie
back
on
my
bed,
arms
and
legs
outstretched,
as
though
I’m
making
a
snow-angel.

Unfamiliar
ceiling.

The
worst
part
is
that
it’s
actually
becoming
a
familiar one.

I
can't
stop
thinking
about
the
fact
that
t
his
is
day
three.
According
to Jayce's
threats
on
the
pay
phone,
if
Father
doesn’t
kill
Jayce’s
mother
today
,
Jayce
will
kill
me.

*****

6:00
PM

Five
bodies
jump
simultaneously
as
Jory
slams
down
the
brakes
once
more
to
stop
from
ramming
into
another
slow
driver.
This
is
the
sixth
time
he’s
had
to
stamp
on
the
brakes
after
going
way
too fast
.
He’s a rubbish
driver.
And
I
mea
n
a
rubbish
one.
I’m
starting
to
find
myself
shutting
my
eyes
just
to
make
this
journey
easier.
If
I
can’t
see
him
driving
horribly, then maybe
I
won’t
be
able
to
feel
it
either?

The
six
of
us
are
Jayce
and
Mel
on
either
side
of
me
in
the
back
with
Tyra
balancing
on Mel’s
lap and
Kaylie
up front
with
Nick.

“
Does
no
one
else
find
it
weird
that
a
ghost
could
be
humping
you
right
now
and
you
would
never
know?
Oh,
and
another
thing
that
gets
me,
right.
Everyone
knows
pollen
is
basically
plant
sperm,
yeah?
Correct
me
if
I’m
wrong,
but
I’m
pretty
sure
that
means
hay
fever
has
to
be
an
STD.
Now,
I’ve
never
known
anyone
who
voluntarily
takes
in
pollen.
So,
I’ve
concluded
that
we’re all being raped by trees. True story.
”

It’s
been
a
long
time
since
I’ve
heard
one
of
Jayce’s
rambles.
It
strikes
me
that I’ve
missed them a little.

“
I-I
don’t
really
want
to
go
to
this
party,
Jayce,
”
Mel
mumbles
,
maybe
thinking
the
quieter
she
speaks,
the
less
he
will
be
offended.
But
judging
by
the
irritated
groan
he
gives,
this
plan
doesn’t
seem
to
be
working.
“
I mean, like, we won’t know anyone there.
”

“
Excellent
input,
Mel,
”
he
snaps,
morphing
into
‘annoyed
Jayce.’
“
Thank
you
for
wasting
a
few
seconds
of
my
time
with
your
dropey-drivelling.
What
relevance
did
that
have
to
the
ethical
discussion
regarding
the
morality
of
trees?
And now
I’ve lost
my
trail of
thought.
”

Jayce
slumps
back
in
his
chair
and
folds
his
arms.
Tyra,
who
has
already
proven
herself
to
be
wasp-tongued
and
no-nonsense
driven,
decides
Mel
needs
some help and
leans
over
me
to
speak
to
him.