The Alibi Girl. C.J. Skuse

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The Alibi Girl - C.J. Skuse


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are you? Been swimming?’

      ‘Yeah,’ says Lola. ‘And we found a crab.’

      ‘No, I found the crab,’ says Kiki.

      ‘Wow, where is it? Can I see it?’

      ‘Mum made us put it back in the sea where it lives.’

      ‘Well that’s probably for the best. Now he can get back to his friend Ariel, can’t he?’ They both giggle. ‘How’s your knee now, Kiki?’

      ‘Much better,’ she says, showing off the Lion King plaster that I put on it the other day. ‘It’s not bleeding anymore.’

      ‘Lucky I carry those on me, wasn’t it?’

      ‘Yeah, Mum never has any in her bag.’

      ‘It was a lot of blood,’ says Lola, all sheepish. ‘I didn’t like that.’

      ‘I was a nurse once,’ I tell her proudly. ‘I’m used to it.’

      ‘We found this,’ says Lola and removes a silver ring with a red heart stone in the middle of it. Costume jewellery but they’re both gazing at it like it’s Meghan Markle’s engagement ring.

      ‘That’s beautiful,’ I say, as Kiki places it in the palm of my hand. I turn it around and look at it for a bit and hand it back to her.

      ‘It’s for you,’ says Lola.

      ‘Oh, I couldn’t take this,’ I say, giving it back.

      ‘We want you to have it cos your boyfriend hasn’t given you a ring yet. So you can have that one until he does.’

      ‘I don’t know what to say. Can I give you both a hug?’

      They fall against me and I inhale the nape of Lola’s neck – salt and sun cream. ‘Thank you, girls. That’s very kind of you. I wonder where it came from. Maybe from a shipwreck?’

      ‘Yeah,’ says Kiki. ‘Maybe it was a princess’s and she fell overboard—’

      ‘—while being kidnapped by a brutish band of pirates.’

      ‘Yeah!’ says Lola. ‘And the princess is in the sea, trying to swim back to her land.’

      ‘—but she hasn’t got there yet because the swimming tired her out so she’s stopped off on some deserted island and she’s been captured by a dragon.’

      ‘And the dragon—’

      ‘Hi, Genevieve, sorry to keep you,’ comes the voice of the infiltrator – their bouncy-bobbed mother, looming behind them. ‘Were you off?’

      ‘It’s fine. I’ve always got time to talk to my two friends.’

      The girls beam and I want to hug them again so badly tears fill my eyes. I pretend it’s the sea breeze.

      ‘Thanks again for seeing to her knee the other day.’

      ‘It’s no bother at all.’

      ‘I’ve issued a complaint to the hotel manager about glass bottles on that beach. I’m not sure what they can do about it really.’ She turns to them. ‘Girls, make sure you rinse your feet before going in that pool, alright?’

      ‘Okay,’ they sing-song in unison.

      I pull a face and roll my eyes which they both understand and giggle at the woman’s retreating back.

      ‘What are you two doing now? Do you want to go to the pier with me and play the slots? I can ask your mum if it’s alright?’

      ‘We’re not allowed any more money today cos we’re having new school shoes.’

      ‘We’re going to find Dad and uncle Ray at the pool and then later we’re going to the Jungle Café for dinner.’

      ‘Ahh, never mind. How about tomorrow?’

      ‘We’re going home tomorrow,’ says Kiki. ‘So we won’t see you anymore.’

      I’m sadder than I want them to see.

      ‘Auntie Sadie’s going to do my hair in French plaits,’ adds Lola.

      ‘French plaits, eh?’ I say. ‘Well do you know what would go really well in French plaits?’ She shakes her head. I hold out my fists before her. ‘Pick one.’

      She picks the right hand and I open it to reveal the packet of unicorn hair slides.

      ‘Ah, cool!’

      ‘I didn’t forget you, don’t worry,’ I tell Kiki, offering her the remaining closed fist. She pops it open and takes out the kitten hairbands with a big shy smile. ‘There you go now, you can both look pretty for your meal at the Jungle Café, can’t you?’

      ‘Thank you, Genevieve,’ they sing-song again.

      ‘You’re welcome,’ I say and yank softly on Kiki’s soggy ponytail. ‘You better go.’

      It’s only when the girls are out of sight that I realise I still feel sick. I smell Tessa Sharpe again, wafting out of the window of Room 29. My aloneness feels so obvious the further I walk along the seafront. I’m completely unnerved. Every few steps I’m looking over my shoulder. I cross the road to the arcades to see if Mia or James or Carlie are in there playing basketball or driving neon cars down desert highways but there’s no sign of any of them. They must all be away for half term.

      And the breeze is so sharp it cuts across my cheeks and stings my eyes. And the wind whips up my dye-blackened hair.

      Not my hair.

      My real hair is red, and I see Tessa Sharpe’s red hair in my mind’s eye again. Red hair and blue eyes. She didn’t arrive with anybody; she wasn’t intending to leave with anybody. Whoever killed her had seen her around the hotel. I can’t not think it. I can’t pretend this time.

      Whoever killed her thought she was me. Which means I was right. They’ve found me. They know exactly where I am. And when they discover that they’ve killed the wrong person, they’ll come for me.

      First day of the Easter holidays, eighteen years ago…

      I’m on the train, little suitcase next to me on the seat, legs swinging freely. I’ve got my Jelly Tots and my books and Miss Whiskers beside me, and Dad is sitting opposite, wearing his Bristol City away shirt, playing with his phone. If I close my eyes, this could be the Hogwarts Express. We could be going back on the first day of term. I’m on a huge red steam engine roaring through the misty countryside. I’ve bought some Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and Miss Whiskers is a real cat, like Hermione’s cat, Crookshanks, and therefore, magical. But Dad keeps talking to me and there are no parents allowed on the Hogwarts Express so I can’t fully imagine it.

      ‘You excited?’ says Dad, fidgeting with his phone, turning it round and round in his hands. I nod and carry on colouring my picture. ‘What are you and Foy going to get up to this Easter then?’

      ‘Uncle Stu is going to do us an Easter egg hunt. And Isaac’s going to teach me to ride his bike. And Chelle’s going to do some plaits in my hair. And we’ll probably play over the churchyard and in our castle.’

      ‘The castle?’

      ‘Our castle in the trees.’

      ‘I thought that was Paddy’s treehouse?’

      ‘He doesn’t want it anymore. He said we could have it. So now it’s our castle.’

      ‘Oh right.’

      A man with a black box on his hip stops by our table and asks to see our tickets and I get mine from my strawberry purse dangling around my neck.


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