Page 70 of One Step Behind
Cars are pulling away from the side of the road, weaving between each other like the dodgems, except everyone is trying not to hit one another. For a minute it seems like I can hear that familiar whine-like siren that signals their start at the funfair. Rachel joins the queue, heading in the direction of town and the hospital.
I put the car into gear and move away, and before I can think about it or stop myself, I follow her. We hit the morning traffic and all around me the town is waking up. Shop workers are scurrying towards the high street in colourful branded t-shirts. Rachel swings her car into the cement shell of a multi-storey car park and I follow. Up and round. Up and round.I’m so close I can see her mouth moving. She looks like she’s singing along to something and I flick through the radio stations until Abba’s ‘Mamma Mia’ sings out, matching the movement of her lips.
She parks one level from the top. I park where I am on the level below and watch her climb out; I sit for a minute whilst she grabs her bag and walks to the stairs. I wait, drumming my fingers on the wheel before deciding to follow on foot. I just want to talk to her, to make her see that you’re going to get away with this unless we do something. And if she knows you, then she might know your friends. She might know who’s helping you continue your torment.
I wait until the door to the stairwell and exit clangs before slipping out of my car. The air inside the car park is stifling, but for the first time today I feel alert, focused.
I listen to the tap of Rachel’s feet on the cement stairs and try to walk in time to her skipping footfalls, but twice she stops and I’m caught out with a step that echoes through the stairwell.
The high street is quiet, the shops only just opening. A street sweeper motors by, sucking up cigarette butts and spitting out soapy water. I watch Rachel stride along, a shoulder bag slung over one shoulder. She looks like a woman on a mission.
I wonder how I can play this. After all my phone calls and turning up at her house, I doubt she’ll believe me if I try to pretend it’s a coincidence that I’m here.
I lose myself in my thoughts for a moment and when I focus again on following Rachel, she’s gone. I keep moving, my gaze darting left and right. More people flock into the high street. I weave around a group of mums with pushchairs, and then suddenlyshe’s right in front of me and I have to stop dead before I barge right into the back of her.
She whips around and when she sees me her face changes – her eyes widen, her mouth becomes a startled O. I recognize the look instantly; it’s the same as the one on my face in one of the photos you’ve taken of me.
‘Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you,’ she half hisses, half shouts, running into the shopping centre before I’ve so much as taken a breath, let alone had a chance to reply, to explain.
I start to follow, my cheeks flaming red, aware of the shoppers staring at me. I’m desperate to explain.
What was I thinking?
I wasn’t, that much is clear. I only wanted to talk and she thinks I was following her, which is crazy, except of course it isn’t.
From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Rachel standing outside one of the shops. She’s talking to her husband and they both turn to look at me.
Hot tears teeter on the edges of my eyes as I dart back to my car. I can’t believe what I’ve just done.
Chapter 40
Sophie, aged fifteen
Sophie slams the front door and throws her school bag across the floor. She is quite sure today has been the worst day ever. Flick and Vicky have been absolute cows all week, whispering to each other about what they’re going to wear to the nightclub on Thursday and bursting into ridiculous giggles every five minutes. Anytime Sophie asks, ‘What’s so funny?’ they shake their heads and say, ‘Nothing. Doesn’t matter.’
It does matter.
Sophie wonders if she can fake a sickness bug for the rest of the week. She doesn’t want another day like today, and it’s only going to get worse the closer they get to Thursday. And of course, the only thing worse than Flick and Vicky’s excitement about going to the disco will be going to school on Friday and hearing all about the fun they had without Sophie.
Fat chance her mum will buy a fake illness, though. For starters, her mum would have to actually notice Sophie exists, and that’s never going to happen.
And it isn’t just missing the night out now either. Sophie is missing out on the fun of getting ready. Flick and Vicky are meeting at Flick’s house, and Flick has nicked some vodka from her mum and dad’s booze cabinet so they can drink vodka and coke before they go.
Plus Reece found out that Sophie isn’t going any more and has totally stopped checking her out at lunchtime. And now Vicky is all over Graham at lunch break so it’s doubly certain that Flick will pull Reece on Thursday, and while they’re all having the best time ever, Sophie will be stuck in Boresville looking after Matthew.
Sophie shuts herself in her room and turns on her music. She flops on to her bed and closes her eyes, trying to imagine what it would feel like to kiss Reece.
‘Sophie,’ Matthew calls over the music before tapping on the door.
‘Go away,’ she shouts, feeling instantly crappy about it. ‘What is it?’
‘Can I come in?’ he asks, opening the door a fraction.
‘Fine.’
Matthew opens the door and leans against her wall, his hands fiddling with the stupid camera Trevor gave him. Trevor gave Sophie the same one. It’s digital with a screen at the back that shows the photo that’s just been taken. Flick has still got the old kind with the film she has to take to Boots to be developed, and Sophie had planned to take her camera to the disco to show them how cool it is, not that she’d ever tell Trevor that.
‘Are you going to say something?’ Sophie asks Matthew.
