Page 174 of A Good Girl's Guide to Murder

There were a handful of people outside. A couple of dark shadows rolling around on the trampoline at the bottom of the garden. A tearful Stella Chapman standing by the garden waste bin wailing down the phone at someone. Another two girls from her year on a children’s swing having what looked like a very serious conversation, punctuated by hands-slapped-to-mouths gasps. And Stephen Thompson-or-Timpson who she used to sit behind in maths. He was perched on a garden wall, a cigarette prone in his mouth as he searched double-handed in his various pockets.

Pip wandered over. ‘Hi,’ she said, plonking herself down on the wall next to him.

‘Hi, Pippa,’ Stephen said, taking the cigarette from his mouth so he could talk. ‘What’s up?’

‘Oh nothing much,’ Pip said. ‘Just came out here, looking for Mary Jane.’

‘Dunno who she is, sorry,’ he said, finally pulling out a neon green lighter.

‘Not a who.’ Pip turned to give him a meaningful look. ‘You know, I’m looking to blast a roach.’

‘Excuse me?’

Pip had spent an hour online that morning researching Urban Dictionary for its current street names.

She tried again, lowering her voice to a whisper. ‘You know, looking for some herb, the doob, a bit of hippie lettuce, giggle smoke, some skunk, wacky tobaccy. You know what I mean. Ganja.’

Stephen burst into laughter. ‘Oh my god,’ he cackled, ‘you are so smashed.’

‘Certainly am.’ She tried to feign a drunken giggle, but it came off as rather villainous. ‘So do you have any? Some shwag grass?’

When he stopped hooting to himself, he turned to look her up and down for a drawn-out moment. His eyes very obviously stalling over her chest and pasty legs. Pip squirmed inside; a gloopy cyclone of disgust and embarrassment. She mentally threw a reproach into Stephen’s face, but her mouth had to remain shut. She was undercover.

‘Yeah,’ Stephen said, biting his bottom lip. ‘I can roll us a joint.’ He searched his pockets again and pulled out a small baggy of weed and a packet of rolling papers.

‘Yes please,’ Pip nodded, feeling anxious and excited and a little sick. ‘You get rolling there; roll it like a . . . um, croupier with a dice.’

He laughed at her again and licked one edge of the paper, trying to hold eye contact with her while his stubby pink tongue was out. Pip looked away. It crossed her mind that maybe she had gone too far this time for a homework project. Maybe. But this wasn’t just a project any more. This was for Sal, for Ravi. For the truth. She could do this for them.

Stephen lit the joint and took two long sucks on its end before passing it to Pip. She took it awkwardly between her middle and index fingers and raised it to her lips. She turned her head sharply so that her hair flicked over her face, and pretended to take a couple of drags on the joint.

‘Mmm, lovely stuff,’ she said, passing it back. ‘Spliffing you could say.’

‘You look nice tonight,’ Stephen said, taking a drag and offering the joint again.

Pip tried to take it without her fingers touching his. Another pretend puff but the smell was cloying and she coughed over her next question.

‘So,’ she said, giving it back, ‘where might I score me some of this?’

‘You can share with me.’

‘No, I mean, who do you buy it from? You know, so I can get in on that too.’

‘Just this guy in town.’ Stephen shuffled on the wall, closer to Pip. ‘Called Howie.’

‘And where does Howie live?’ Pip said, passing back the weed and using the movement as an excuse to shift away from Stephen.

‘Dunno,’ Stephen said. ‘He doesn’t deal from his house. I meet him at the station car park, down the end with no cameras.’

‘In the evening?’ Pip asked.

‘Usually, yeah. Whatever time he texts me.’

‘You have his number?’ Pip reached down to her bag for her own phone. ‘Can I have it?’

Stephen shook his head. ‘He’d be mad if he knew I was just handing it out. You don’t need to go to him; if you want something, you can just pay me and I’ll get it for you. I’ll even discount.’ He winked.

‘I’d really rather buy direct,’ Pip said, feeling the heat of annoyance creeping up her neck.

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