Guardian of the Dead by Karen Healey Page A

Creatures , Once Were Warriors or Rain for the film section. Given the choice between teenage matricide, teenage suicide, and possible paedophilia, the class had voted over whelmingly for matricide. I hadn’t; I remembered the horrible months last year when my mother had struggled against the cancer and the chemo, and resented my classmates’ enthusiasm for what was, after all, a true story about a nasty murder. When they caught the Eyeslasher, would Peter Jackson want the rights to that too?
    Heavenly Creatures began with the patchy film of Christchurch in the 50s, looking even whiter and duller than now, and got progressively creepier. ‘There are New Zealand comedies,’ I whispered to Kevin, reasonably safe from Mr Aarons0n in the dimmed light. Back seats by the radiators were even more in demand on film days, but Kevin had got there early, and saved one for me.
    â€˜Comedies aren’t art , darling,’ he replied, in a fair posh English accent.
    â€˜I’d love to watch you tell that to Iris,’ I muttered, and was rewarded with a muffled laugh. ‘Everything okay?’
    â€˜Yeah.’ He thought about it. ‘We’ll see.’
    â€˜Well, she needs you for the play, so she can’t get too shirty.’ I was trying to be reassuring, but I caught the flash of white as he rolled his eyes. ‘What?’
    â€˜She is actually my friend , Ellie. My friend who likes me, regardless of . . . stuff.’
    â€˜Well, sure, I’m just saying —’
    â€˜If you lot are going to talk all through this —’ Mr Aaron son began, but the door opened before he could finish the threat. It was Mark Nolan, holding a strip of paper. I couldn’t help straightening in my seat. Outlined in the light coming through the doorframe, he shone like a grubby angel, green eyes gleaming in his white face. He came in, and I began to breathe again. After a brief discussion with Mr Aaronson, he folded his long legs under a desk at the front and stared impassively at the screen.
    I was expecting Kevin to give me hell for the obviousness of my crush, but he apparently had something else on his mind.
    â€˜Jesus,’ he muttered. ‘I swear he’s stalking me.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Nolan’s transferred into all my classes today – well, except Physics.’
    â€˜ Seriously?
    â€™ ‘God knows how he did it, but he did.’ He shrugged the mystery away and gave me his most irritating smirk. ‘This one worked out well for you, didn’t it?’
    I ignored him, leaned behind his wide shoulder and stole another look at Mark, who appeared totally oblivious to everything but the movie. In the white glare of the projector screen, his face was like a classical Greek sculpture, bleached of colour after long years in the sun.
    It didn’t make any sense. Mark, I had pathetically worked out through careful deduction, took Classics, English, History, Latin, and Art History. How could he just transfer into Kevin’s Chem and Calc classes, much less Mori? ‘You have Physics second period today, right? Fourth period Thursdays?’
    â€˜Yeah.’
    â€˜That’s when I have—’
    Mr Aaronson was rising in a clatter of remote controls. ‘Ms Spencer! Are you the director of this film?’
    I tried to shrink into my seat. ‘No, Mr Aaronson.’
    â€˜Then why do you insist on adding commentary ?’
    â€˜Sorry, Mr Aaronson,’ I said, staring at the floor so I wouldn’t have to put faces to the people laughing at me.
    Kevin gave me a comforting poke in the ribs when everyone went back to the movie, but I was not in the mood to be consoled. I sulked in the warm darkness of the classroom until I went to sleep on my desk, and had to be hastily shaken awake before the lights went on. It wasn’t an auspicious start to the weekend.

    I was fully prepared to defend Kevin to Iris at rehearsal that night, but she