sorry.’ He paused. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t accuse his friends of murder. It was too dramatic, too high-concept, even for him. Frustration crawled under
his skin. What did he really want to say? ‘It’s just so sad,’ he finally blurted out. ‘So pointless. There’d been . . . a big fight at the ball and she ran away. Janey
was even more dramatic than me, if you can believe that. She was angry, but we never thought she’d do something so stupid. I mean . . . none of us went after her . . .’
Those last six words summed up the problem. She could so easily have been stopped. Any one of them could have talked her out of it. A tear pooled in the corner between his eye and nose. Alisha
hooked her arm through his.
‘It’s not your fault,’ Erin offered. ‘I think once someone’s decided to do something like that . . .’
‘She put us all through hell. You know for
four weeks,
before they found the body, we thought she’d been abducted or something,’ Greg cursed. ‘She wasn’t
thinking straight. It was such a selfish, bullshit thing to do. We all get pissed off; we don’t chuck ourselves off a cliff.’
‘Greg. Don’t,’ Alisha said gravely.
He was only saying what they’d all thought, though. Everyone has an argument from time to time – but they don’t kill themselves.
This
was what had haunted Ryan all
year – it was so
stupid.
So
unlikely.
If it
had
been TV, it would have made far more sense for Alisha to die – with all her recklessness she would have made a
perfect cautionary tale. So many things about that night didn’t make any sense. Janey should have been here, with them, right now, on the beach.
Erin spoke again, her curiosity now bordering on nosy. ‘What was the fight about?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Ben said simply, clearly battling to maintain an even tone.
‘It doesn’t’ Alisha agreed. ‘What matters is that none of us did anything. Not one of us went to see if she was OK – we were all too wrapped up in our own stupid
stuff. I sometimes think it was our fault she jumped.’
Although the fire crackled and spat, the beach was suddenly freezing cold. ‘Do you think—’ Ryan started.
‘Do I think what?’ Greg downed the last of his beer.
Ryan steeled himself. ‘Do you really think Janey killed herself?’
Orange and amber and gold and white danced in all their eyes: Ben, Greg, Katie, Alisha and Erin. At first no one spoke, everyone waiting to hear what everyone else would say. The silence was
deafening.
Katie broke it. ‘Ryan, the only person who truly knows what happened that night is dead.’
SCENE 7 – ALISHA
A lisha stared at the fire for what felt like hours. Eventually, the roaring flames lost their will to fight, tiring to feeble tongues before dying
to embers. They still glowed scarlet though, and they still gave heat. When she poked them with her stick, they flared up angrily in a shower of sparks. Alisha had no idea how much time she lost to
this pursuit; it was hypnotic.
Most of the others had drifted back to the villa, blaming coldness or tiredness. Maybe it was all too much: the flight, the wine, the sun. Janey. Katie remained on the other side of the ashes, a
pashmina around her shoulders. The pair sat in companionable silence. For years, Alisha had wished she could
be
Katie. Katie seemed perfect to her. Like, now, she was wearing a crisp white
summer dress. Alisha was not the sort of girl who could wear white and not smear ketchup down herself.
It wasn’t just Katie’s dress sense, though, it was everything about her. She was an only child, she lived in a gorgeous house, she had Ben, her grades were flawless. That was before
you even got started on her do. The girl basically had
Little Mermaid
hair. It was a mystery to Alisha, therefore, why Katie had a sadness in her eyes these days. She smiled and chatted
but there was a pain there; Alisha could see it. Perhaps Katie blamed herself
his skin. What did he really want to say? ‘It’s just so sad,’ he finally blurted out. ‘So pointless. There’d been . . . a big fight at the ball and she ran away. Janey
was even more dramatic than me, if you can believe that. She was angry, but we never thought she’d do something so stupid. I mean . . . none of us went after her . . .’
Those last six words summed up the problem. She could so easily have been stopped. Any one of them could have talked her out of it. A tear pooled in the corner between his eye and nose. Alisha
hooked her arm through his.
‘It’s not your fault,’ Erin offered. ‘I think once someone’s decided to do something like that . . .’
‘She put us all through hell. You know for
four weeks,
before they found the body, we thought she’d been abducted or something,’ Greg cursed. ‘She wasn’t
thinking straight. It was such a selfish, bullshit thing to do. We all get pissed off; we don’t chuck ourselves off a cliff.’
‘Greg. Don’t,’ Alisha said gravely.
He was only saying what they’d all thought, though. Everyone has an argument from time to time – but they don’t kill themselves.
This
was what had haunted Ryan all
year – it was so
stupid.
So
unlikely.
If it
had
been TV, it would have made far more sense for Alisha to die – with all her recklessness she would have made a
perfect cautionary tale. So many things about that night didn’t make any sense. Janey should have been here, with them, right now, on the beach.
Erin spoke again, her curiosity now bordering on nosy. ‘What was the fight about?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Ben said simply, clearly battling to maintain an even tone.
‘It doesn’t’ Alisha agreed. ‘What matters is that none of us did anything. Not one of us went to see if she was OK – we were all too wrapped up in our own stupid
stuff. I sometimes think it was our fault she jumped.’
Although the fire crackled and spat, the beach was suddenly freezing cold. ‘Do you think—’ Ryan started.
‘Do I think what?’ Greg downed the last of his beer.
Ryan steeled himself. ‘Do you really think Janey killed herself?’
Orange and amber and gold and white danced in all their eyes: Ben, Greg, Katie, Alisha and Erin. At first no one spoke, everyone waiting to hear what everyone else would say. The silence was
deafening.
Katie broke it. ‘Ryan, the only person who truly knows what happened that night is dead.’
SCENE 7 – ALISHA
A lisha stared at the fire for what felt like hours. Eventually, the roaring flames lost their will to fight, tiring to feeble tongues before dying
to embers. They still glowed scarlet though, and they still gave heat. When she poked them with her stick, they flared up angrily in a shower of sparks. Alisha had no idea how much time she lost to
this pursuit; it was hypnotic.
Most of the others had drifted back to the villa, blaming coldness or tiredness. Maybe it was all too much: the flight, the wine, the sun. Janey. Katie remained on the other side of the ashes, a
pashmina around her shoulders. The pair sat in companionable silence. For years, Alisha had wished she could
be
Katie. Katie seemed perfect to her. Like, now, she was wearing a crisp white
summer dress. Alisha was not the sort of girl who could wear white and not smear ketchup down herself.
It wasn’t just Katie’s dress sense, though, it was everything about her. She was an only child, she lived in a gorgeous house, she had Ben, her grades were flawless. That was before
you even got started on her do. The girl basically had
Little Mermaid
hair. It was a mystery to Alisha, therefore, why Katie had a sadness in her eyes these days. She smiled and chatted
but there was a pain there; Alisha could see it. Perhaps Katie blamed herself
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