Say Her Name (15 page)

Chapter 21

Eventually, Bobbie could no longer resist the heaviness in her eyelids and she drifted off. One moment she was listening to Naya recount her near-death experience in a Brooklyn drive-by and the next she was in the graveyard.

It was a sweltering, humid night, the damp air kissing her skin. A welcome, much-needed breeze rustled the summer leaves as she ran through the woods, her gingham summer dress brushing her thighs. She was giggling. He was chasing her – hide and seek. Bobbie knew this wasn’t the first time they’d been here; this was their special place – a place they could meet away from the prying eyes of Piper’s Hall.

Bobbie ducked behind a tree, her hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter.
He won’t find me now
. Of course, she very much wanted to be found. When she could no longer hear his footsteps, she chanced a peek around the thick trunk only to find him ready for her on the other side. With a lion-like roar, he pounced, and she fell into his arms.

He spun her around and around, pirouetting between the gravestones. This part of the churchyard was hidden from the eyes of the school
and
the church by the trees and hedgerows.
Their place
.

With a warm hand, he cupped Bobbie’s face. Tonight his flannel sleeves were rolled to his elbow and she wore only the Piper’s summer dress and open-toed sandals. Her hair was down, free. No longer shy with him, she kissed his lips first, hungrily seeking his tongue. With one strong arm he lifted her effortlessly onto a long, flat sarcophagus. Bobbie lay back, grateful of the cool stone on her hot, sticky legs. Kenton climbed atop her. As he nuzzled her neck, landing kiss after kiss on her skin, she opened her eyes long enough to see over his shoulder and wonder at the smattering of stars in the night sky. She’d never seen so many, and it felt like they were all out for them.

An exquisite shiver rippled through her body, and she let herself go.

Bobbie awoke with a start, and tugged hair out of her face like cobwebs. She mistook her duvet for Millar, frantically pushing it off. It took her a second to realise where she was. So much for not falling asleep. Half fearing Mary to be in her bed again, she whipped her knees up to her chest, sitting upright.

The dream had frightened her – as much as any ghostly scars or visions in the mirror. She felt unclean, as if Millar’s hands really had been on her skin. It was getting uncomfortably real. Mary may have enjoyed it, but she most certainly did not.
How could Mary have been so stupid?

The room was still, however. Pearly dawn light seeped under the curtains and two bodies slept peacefully with her: Caine was stretched out on the floor in a sleeping bag, his hands tucked behind his head. Bobbie had the strongest urge to nestle her shoulder under his armpit and use his shoulder as a pillow, to seek comfort in his arms. The sunny feeling inside she got when she was with Caine was the exact opposite of how she’d felt with Millar – that felt as dark and suffocating as tar.

In a weird way she was grateful; Mary had brought her and Caine together. If this was her last week on earth, she could at least say she’d felt
it
. It was like spring had finally arrived after a lifetime of winter. Looking at Caine now, his eyes closed and full lips ever so slightly parted, she finally
got it
.

His eyes opened and Bobbie looked away, hoping he hadn’t caught her staring. On the periodic table of creepy, watching people sleep was surely number one. He blinked and frowned, like he was momentarily confused by the alien surroundings before coming to. ‘Hey,’ he croaked. ‘You okay?’

‘We’re still alive.’ Bobbie tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘Or Hell is a girls’ boarding school.’

‘Both could be true,’ Naya said, head still facing her pillow. Bobbie knew how she felt. The urge to stay in bed and somehow sleep through to day six was sorely tempting.

‘No,’ Caine went on, ‘I meant your face.’ Even with puffy eyes and creased clothes, he was still gorgeous. Bobbie shuddered to think how hideous she must look a minute after waking up. Last night she’d discovered (with some shame) that she didn’t own anything even resembling cool or sexy pyjamas. Her baby-blue-with-fluffy-white-cloud flannel pyjamas, unbelievably, were her
least
embarrassing pair.

The concern in his eyes, however, soon outweighed her embarrassment. ‘What? What about my face?’

‘You have new cuts on your face.’

Bobbie’s hands flew to her cheeks. Aware there wasn’t a mirror in the room, she traced her skin. Sure enough there were four or five new scars on her forehead and over her cheekbones. ‘Oh God,’ she said, and saw panic fill Caine’s eyes. ‘No. No, it’s okay. They don’t hurt, I promise.’ They did hurt, just a little.

Naya’s head twisted towards her. ‘You sure, hon?’

Bobbie nodded, although was desperate to see herself. She’d resist the temptation.

‘This is it then.’ Caine sat up and smoothed his T-shirt down. ‘Day five.’

‘It feels like any other day,’ Bobbie noted. The birds were as chatty as ever in the trees outside their window, gossiping away without a care.

‘I sort of didn’t expect it to get light,’ Caine admitted. ‘I stayed awake until the sun came up, just in case.’ Maybe he’d watched her sleeping. Oddly, she didn’t mind. It made her feel safe.

‘Sorry for nodding off.’ Bobbie put her glasses on. ‘I couldn’t help it.’

‘No worries.’ Caine looked a lot like he wanted to join her on her bed. ‘So what do we do now?’

Bobbie climbed off her bed and pulled open the curtains to a swear word from Naya. It was another foggy, drizzle-soaked day. Just a Thursday. No one else had got the memo about how important this Thursday was. God knew what the birds had to be so chirpy about. ‘I don’t know, to be honest. I didn’t have a plan for if we got this far. There’s no lessons today. I guess most of the girls will go into Oxsley or just hang about watching TV.’

Caine didn’t look impressed with those options. ‘Maybe we have until the end of the day – like a full five days. That still gives us like sixteen hours to work out how to stop this mental witch.’

Bobbie nodded. ‘You’re right. I just can’t think of what else we can do. I mean, we have exhausted every weird half-clue we’ve been given. It’s almost like Mary doesn’t want us to work it out.’

‘If she’s buried she could be anywhere,’ Naya muttered from under her duvet. ‘Literally anywhere. What are we meant to do? Start digging?’

Bobbie chuckled. ‘It’s not a terrible idea.’

Naya pushed the duvet back. ‘Are you serious?’

‘I didn’t mean the digging part, I meant the bit about finding her body.’ Bobbie sat at the desk chair and put her glasses on. ‘We know Mary was a real-life person because Judy went to school with her, but there aren’t any records of her being at the school and she isn’t on the alumni pages.’

‘Perhaps we could talk to Dr Price?’ Naya suggested.

‘Hmm. She’s suspicious already and she didn’t start here until a few years before we did so I don’t see how she could help, really. Caine and I looked at the graveyard yesterday and she isn’t buried there.’

‘That don’t mean anything,’ Caine said. ‘She ran away. She could be buried anywhere. Like anywhere in the world.’

Bobbie narrowed her eyes. ‘I think it’s something worth considering though. Isn’t that like a thing? If you don’t lay a body to rest on hallowed ground and all that?’

Caine shrugged. ‘I dunno. The graveyard might be worth another look – both me and Bridget dreamed about it.’

Bobbie sighed. ‘Me too. Caine, I think our dreams finally matched up last night.’

His eyes widened. ‘Yeah?’ He blushed. ‘Oh right.’

‘I see why you didn’t want to talk about them … ’

He glanced up at her and couldn’t keep the suggestion of a smile off his lips.

‘Oh get a room,’ Naya chided. ‘Preferably someone else’s.’ She kicked off her duvet, resigning herself to being awake.

Bobbie’s mouth fell open.
No way
. She blinked, but it didn’t change a thing. She was really, truly seeing this.

Naya climbed off the bed and Caine backed away, wriggling across the floor in his sleeping bag like he was scared to go anywhere near her.

Naya balked at their reaction. ‘What the hell is wrong with –’ And then she stopped because, stood up, she could see it too. Her hands shot to cover her mouth. Her breath shook and she whined like a lost, fragile infant.

Naya was heavily,
heavily
pregnant.

Chapter 22

Naya pulled up her now-stretched pyjama top and Bobbie’s jaw fell further.
It was real
. Naya’s olive skin was swollen across her abdomen, her belly button protruding. Under the taut skin, something moved, as if something inside her friend was writhing around, kicking to get free. Something
alive
. ‘Oh God!’ Naya cried, hands fluttering. ‘Oh God!’

Bobbie dragged herself off the mental ledge. Now, more than ever, Naya needed her to keep it together – even if she had to pretend. She shot off the desk chair and took hold of her friend’s wrists. ‘Naya. Look at me. Try to stay calm.’

‘Bobbie … Bobbie … I’m … ’

‘You’re not!’ Bobbie shouted louder. ‘You’re
not
!’ Bobbie remembered Naya banging on about her little tummy and weight gain. Oh God – she’d been feeling sick all week too – morning sickness! All this time, Bobbie thought that Naya had got off lightly, but that clearly wasn’t the case. What if she
was
… ? No, there was
no way
.

‘Are you sure you’re not … ?’ Caine asked somewhat sheepishly. Both girls turned to him with disdain. The very mundane question brought them both down a few notches.

‘I
can’t
be pregnant!’ Naya wailed. ‘I definitely can’t be
this
pregnant!’

‘I know, I know.’ Bobbie tried to soothe her. Forcing herself to take another look at the freakish bump, Bobbie swore it was smaller than it had been a second ago. The thing inside her kicked again and Bobbie flinched. ‘Naya, this is Mary’s … doing.’

Naya didn’t seemed comforted by this news. ‘Your cuts are real!’

No. No way. There was
no way
there was a real-life baby inside Naya, but that thought read all over Naya’s face. Bobbie tried to steady her, but she pulled away, unwilling to be comforted. ‘This isn’t the same.’

‘Get it out of me!’

‘Oh God.’ Caine’s face was now horribly ashen. Bobbie sighed, she couldn’t deal with a full-tilt panicking Naya and a squeamish Caine.

‘Caine – don’t you freak out on me now!’

‘Sorry … but this,’ he pointed at Naya’s belly, ‘this is next level.’

‘Bobbie, please … ’ Tears rolled down Naya’s face.

Bobbie took a deep breath. Her head was pounding, like blood was gushing into her brain too fast. It really did feel like her head might pop. How much more could they take? Mary was
torturing
them. ‘Naya, sit down. Someone in your condition shouldn’t be standing up.’

‘Bobbie. This isn’t funny.’ The joke actually went some way to calm her down; instead of hysterical, Naya now looked annoyed.

‘I know, but we all need to decompress. This,’ she gestured around the room like their panic was a tangible entity, ‘isn’t helping. This isn’t real.’

‘It feels real.’

‘The dreams felt real. When I thought Mary was in my bed, that seemed real … but there was
nothing
under the covers. This is just the same. Literally a phantom pregnancy. There is no way there’s a real baby inside you.’ Naya wiped her cheeks, this time listening. The swelling seemed to go down further. ‘See? She just wants us to know. She’s telling us her story.’

‘Man, this is so twisted,’ Caine said, blinking like a normal human once more.

‘I think I’ve figured it out.’ Bobbie knelt at Naya’s feet, still holding her hands. ‘Why she takes five days. She isn’t waiting … she’s building her strength.’

Naya sniffed. ‘What do you mean?’

‘On day one, we just had the nosebleeds. Since then, she’s become worse and worse, like she’s gaining power … getting a better grip on us. Look at me. I’m covered in cuts. She can make you seem pregnant.’

‘I guess I’ve got off pretty lightly.’ Caine sounded apologetic.

‘I’ll say.’ Bobbie shrugged. She recalled the way Mary had watched Caine sleep and wondered if he was re-enacting the role of Millar – someone for Mary to adore. Or maybe she had more tricks up her sleeve before the day was through. ‘But let’s not speak too soon. We still have a whole day left.’

Caine didn’t look too thrilled at that prospect. ‘This means Judy was right, though. Mary must have been up the duff.’

‘Charming.’ Naya examined her bump again. It was rising and falling with her breathing, expanding and decreasing like a balloon inside her.

‘Is that it, Mary?’ Bobbie now spoke to her directly, raising her voice to the ceiling. ‘We worked it out! You were pregnant with Kenton Millar’s baby! So what now?’ Predictably, there came no response. Bobbie wondered if the other Piper’s Ladies, the ones from before, had got this far. If they’d even tried. Would Mary give them points for trying? A new thought crossed Bobbie’s mind. What if Mary had given birth to a son or daughter? Was that who they were supposed to track down? If so, sixteen hours just wasn’t going to cut the mustard.

Naya sprang off the bad and ran her hands over the diminishing bump. ‘I think it’s going.’

‘See? I told you … she wanted us to know, to be sure, about the baby, I think.’ At this stage, after everything she’d put them through, Bobbie wasn’t sure she could vouch any longer for the dead girl’s benign nature.

‘Okay.’ Caine breathed a sigh of relief. ‘This doesn’t really change anything – we still have to find where Mary’s body is. Before it’s too late.’

Bobbie nodded.

‘I need a shower.’ Naya shuddered. ‘I feel majorly dirty and weird.’

‘No,’ Bobbie insisted. ‘You can’t go to the shower room. There’s a mirror in there.’

Naya considered this for a moment. ‘The prefects’ bathroom has a bath and no mirror.’

‘But you’re not a prefect.’

Naya wiped her damp cheeks, her spirit returning. ‘A – they’re not here, are they? B – I’m carrying a ghost baby, I think they’ll understand my need for a little pamper time.’

Bobbie hugged her friend. If she could make a joke out of it, she was on the road to being cool. ‘Okay. You go first and then I’ll freshen up before we head back to St Paul’s.’

‘Cool.’ Naya grabbed her wash-bag and secured a robe around her waist, although the huge third-trimester bump had now faded to almost nothing more than a food baby. She ran her hand over it, but said nothing.
It wasn’t real
, Bobbie reminded herself.

‘Stay away from any mirrors … including the one we abandoned in the Accy Area. I’ll be up in a sec – we should stick together.’

‘Yes, Ma’am. Thanks, Bob, for, y’know … ’ Bobbie guessed she meant for the support. ‘You’re amazing. Love ya, girl.’ Naya embraced her and Bobbie felt her cheeks flush. She didn’t feel amazing, she felt like a pretender – someone playing the role of a girl who could cope. As long as Caine and Naya believed she was keeping it together, that was all that mattered. Naya gave her a peck on the forehead and left, letting the door slam behind her.

Bobbie was alone again with Caine for the first time since their kiss in the hall. She glanced up at him and looked away, suddenly shy. Another great mystery solved – why did so many Piper’s Hall Ladies trot into Oxsley every weekend to lurk outside shops with boys? Answer: because it’s addictive. All she wanted to do was kiss him again, partly to see if it was as good as she remembered, but also because it put her in a state unlike any other she’d ever felt before.

She wanted to recapture what she’d felt in the hall: the gallop in her chest.

Bobbie mentally shook it off. Spending her last day on earth kissing the beautiful boy was either the best or worst idea she’d ever had. ‘Well, I wasn’t expecting that.’ She flopped onto her bed, already wiped out despite only having been awake ten minutes.

‘I know, right? That was messed up.’ The room suddenly seemed bigger, like they were too far apart. As if he sensed this, Caine kicked off the sleeping bag and joined her. ‘Is this okay?’

‘Yeah.’ Somehow Bobbie knew that he wouldn’t make a move. For whatever reason, she just really, really wanted to touch his skin. She stroked his neck, feeling the fuzzy hairline where he’d shaved his head. This time, she kissed him. It was every bit as good as she’d remembered – better.

Caine pulled back. ‘Morning breath!’

‘Me?’ Bobbie was horrified.

‘No! No! I meant me!’

‘You’re fine,’ Bobbie smiled back before giving him a less risky, fleeting kiss on his lips. He pulled her into an embrace, holding her tight. She felt safer than she had in years; locked up securely in strong arms. When had someone last held her? Oh, Grace had, but that was totally different. And Naya was as touchy-feely as they come, but her mum hadn’t hugged her since she’d been tiny – years had passed. She realised how much she’d missed the contact and why people did this – why they dedicate all those hours to finding boyfriends and girlfriends. It’s for someone to
hold
. She rested her head on his broad shoulder. A tear found its way out and soaked into the thin cotton of his T-shirt.

‘Are you crying on me?’ His voice sounded like he was smiling, teasing her.

Pulling away from him, she wiped her eye. ‘No. It’s just my eye leaking. Sorry. Not massively constructive, I know. I just don’t want
this
to go away.’

Caine stroked her back, strumming her with his thumb like a harp. ‘Yeah. I know.’

Bobbie took his hands. She didn’t know why, but she voiced one of her greatest fears. ‘You don’t think I’m weird, do you?’

This time he did look at her. ‘Only in a good way.’

Another tear threatened to make an appearance. She held it back. This was a good thing. If she was taken by restless spirits she could at least say she’d died having met someone who
got
her. That was pretty cool. ‘Do you want some breakfast?’ she asked. ‘I could smuggle us some up.’

‘Yeah. That’d be good. Can you pass some water?’

‘Sure.’ Their glasses from last night were arranged on the desk. ‘Which one was yours?’

‘The taller one.’ She handed him the glass, still half full with water from the evening before.

‘Thanks.’

Bobbie looked around the room for some clothes she could throw on to fetch breakfast. The shyness was back – she both did and didn’t want to strip in front of Caine.

‘Whoa!’ Caine’s cry came about a second before the glass shattered on the threadbare carpet.

‘Wh—’

‘She was in the cup.’ Caine pulled his legs off the floor.

‘What?’

‘I could see her in the water. Look!’

Bobbie looked at the puddle spreading across the floor. The carpet was so thin it was hardly absorbent and the water advanced in a black circle. For a moment, Bobbie saw only herself in the puddle, but another face appeared from behind her, as if she was
right behind her
. Bobbie screamed and threw herself back, colliding with the wardrobe.

Then something else happened.

The tip of a dead, blue-white finger emerged from the puddle: from reflection to reality. Bobbie screamed again. This was it, she was coming for them.

Unable to take her eyes off the corpse fingers, she didn’t see Caine grab hold of her duvet, but a second later it landed on the wet patch, the fabric soaking up the water in an instant. Bobbie sprang to action, dabbing at the damp. She pulled back the bedding. The puddle, and the ghostly fingers, were gone.

She looked up at Caine. No words necessary. It was game over. She was on her way. ‘She doesn’t even need a mirror any more. She’s strong enough to come through
any
reflection.’

Caine’s head fell into his hands, only for him to spring upright at once. ‘What about Naya?’

Bobbie frowned and then something that felt like an anvil crashed to the pit of her stomach. ‘Oh God! The bath!’

They both sprinted into Brontë House, Bobbie not caring who saw them any more. It didn’t even cross her mind how much trouble she could be in if Caine was caught. Nothing else mattered but this.

‘Where’s this bathroom?’ Caine shouted, a couple of steps ahead of her. The doors of Brontë were a blur as they careered past.

‘Next floor up! End of Dickinson.’

‘Where?’

‘Follow me!’ Bobbie took the lead and headed for the main staircase. By now they’d made enough of a commotion that some left-behind girls poked their heads out of a door in Austen House.

Bobbie was moving too fast to see who they were, but she definitely heard one of them say, ‘Oh my God! A BOY!’ A few days ago, that would have been her amongst the scandalised masses.

She took the stairs two at a time, with Caine right on her heels.
Not Naya … please not Naya
. Her throat was so dry and tight it was painful. They reached the landing between Christie and Dickinson. ‘Naya!’ Bobbie screamed. She tugged on the double doors into Dickinson, her socks skidding across the cool, tiled floors.

The prefects’ bathroom was next to the main Dickinson bathroom, and was the only actual bathtub pupils got to use. The perk was pretty much the only reason to become a prefect. Bobbie fell into the door and tugged on the handle. It was locked. ‘Naya!’ Bobbie hammered on the wood.

‘Bob? What’s up? I’m okay, the bump went down.’ Naya’s voice came from within. Bobbie heard the sound of water sloshing as Naya sat up in the tub.

‘Naya, get out of the bath!’

‘What? Why? Are you desperate for a pee or –’ The sentence was cut short.

Bobbie pressed her ear to the door. ‘Naya?’

Caine banged on the door. ‘Naya, get out! It’s not a joke.’

‘Naya!’ Bobbie tugged and shook the door handle. Not being a prefect she’d only peeked inside the room once or twice and couldn’t remember what type of lock it was. She threw all her weight behind it, but the thing wouldn’t budge. ‘No!’ she wailed. She couldn’t lose her best friend; life without her didn’t stand thinking about. Naya’s unconditional friendship was one more thing she’d taken for granted. ‘Caine,’ she pleaded. ‘Do something!’
No no no no no no no.

He rammed the door with his shoulder, prompting more doors to open in Dickinson House. The door dented, but didn’t burst open.

There was a mighty splash and a gasp from within, as if Naya had breached the surface, struggling for air. ‘Bobbie!’ came her gurgled plea. Someone was pulling her under.

Bobbie fell to her knees, struggling to breathe through her tears. There was a minute gap between the handle and the door frame. A sliver of light shone through. With one eye shut, Bobbie peered through the crack.