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Authors: Lesley Cheetham

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BOOK: Someone Like me
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CHAPTER 15

 

‘Yes!’ I threw my fist up and jumped around my bedroom floor. I was right.
The Flying Toucans
had played The Roundhouse the weekend of May 26th – the weekend Miriam had been found. I made a tick against my checklist. Khaled and Mark had stayed over with a mate of Mark’s that night. I needed to find out whether Mark had been with Khaled the whole time. As Miriam’s boyfriend he was now high on my list of suspects.  Tess could find out easily enough. 

    My phone flashed at me. A text from Fiona:

 

Meet tomorrow at 11 by the swings in Carisbrooke Park

 

I took off my headphones and went downstairs. Mum was passed out on the sofa, wine glass at her side. The television was on low. I watched her chest going up and down, a sheet of paper quivering in her hands. I removed the paper.

‘Mum,’ I called. No response. ‘Mum.’ That was loud. She opened her eyes then manoeuvred herself into a sitting position.

‘Jas.
I must have dropped off. Are you alright?’

‘I’m going to the park in the morning with some friends.’

‘That’s great. I’m so glad you’re getting out more, but don’t forget your studies.’

‘School has finished Mum. Give me a break.’

‘Oh yes,’ she said, ‘I forgot.’ Her eyes were starting to droop. I picked up the remote and turned the television off.

‘I’m going to bed and I think you should too.’

A snore spluttered from her mouth; I was wasting my time. I dimmed the lamp and went off upstairs.

 

The park was busy next morning. Some sort of extreme workout class was taking place and I watched as a man wearing khaki uniform barked orders at a group of middle-aged women who looked like they would be more comfortable in a cake shop. As they lumbered back and forwards between trees I swung my legs until I had a steady rhythm going with the swing. I spotted Fiona and Helen making their way towards me. As they got closer and grew to their proper height, I could see that they were deep in conversation. I waved and Helen waved back.

‘Hey,’ I said.

Fiona nodded at me and Helen smiled shyly.

‘Shall we go over to the shelter?’ suggested Fiona. ‘It’s a bit windy out here and I spent ages on my hair this morning.’ Her hair was sleek and straight. I had stuck a beanie on my head and barely noticed the wind.

‘OK,’ I said and jumped off the swing, stumbling. Helen caught my arm.  ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘How long are you here for?’

‘Just today – Auntie Lou is picking me up from Fiona’s at six.’

 

The shelter was a grey concrete building covered in graffiti – big strokes of brightly
coloured paint dragged into letters. Teenagers hung out here all the time, puffing on furtive cigarettes and snogging in the corner.

Today it was empty and the sun shone into the shelter, making it look quite
cosy. Fiona and I sat down on the bench, and Helen threw her padded jacket onto the ground and sat on it, cross-legged. She looked much younger than her years; the plaits didn’t help, plus she chewed her nails constantly. Fiona lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in my direction.

‘Tell Helen what you told me,’ she said.

‘It’s nothing,’ I laughed nervously. ‘I like finding things out, I always have.’ I shrugged. ‘I’m good at it. When I read about the girl being killed in the paper, I wanted to know what had happened to her – I can relate to it, it’s kind of scary – do you know what I mean? Then when I saw your name in the paper and I realised you might be a friend of Tess, I got a bit excited. Sad, I know, but I dragged Tess down to Keston and we found Helen.’ Helen’s eyes were fixed on me. ‘I’m sorry I lied but your aunt caught me by surprise. All we were going to do was look at the house and check out the area. Just to get a feel of the place. That’s what they do in books.’ Disbelief was stamped all over Fiona’s face. I hurried on. ‘I know it’s a bit eccentric. Then before I knew it we were actually talking to you and there was no way out of it…then when you mentioned Khaled... ’

‘What?’ said
Fiona.

‘Well obviously Tess and I put two and two together
and  decided  that  Miriam was going out with the same Khaled as you. Stupid really, but it’s not a common name round here, is it?’ Helen was staring at me wide-eyed, biting her fingernails furiously.

‘Stop biting your nails,’ I barked. She looked shocked and put her hands under her legs, squashing them
out  of  sight  with  her  thighs. I  sighed. ‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘it’s just that I was…’

‘Get on with the story,’ said Fiona. Our eyes locked for a moment. I looked away first.

‘Well it did seem like a big coincidence,’ I said, ‘And Tess thought the same. Then I found out that Khaled was away that weekend and you thought he was seeing someone else… they went to The Roundhouse you know, I checked. But did he spend all night with Mark, or did he go elsewhere? That’s what I need to find out.’

Fiona was avoiding eye contact. I opened my bag and took out my purse, extracting a printout of a sheet of photos. Fiona caught sight of it and grabbed it out of my hands. ‘Where did you get this?’

‘Online. I thought Helen could look at it and tell us for sure if it’s the same person. I wasn’t going to tell you about Khaled and Miriam, Fiona, no way, it was none of my business; I just wanted to find out what was going on. Tess was pretty cut up about it. But then you split up with him anyway…’ Fiona handed the sheet to Helen. She barely cast her eye over it before nodding.

‘That’s him. That’s Miriam’s boyfriend.’

Fiona dropped her head in her hands. Helen looked embarrassed; her fingernail had found its way into her mouth again. We sat in silence for a moment, then Fiona raised her head. She looked pale and defeated.

‘I’m glad in a way,’ she said. ‘It’s easier to hate him knowing that he’s involved in something like this.’

‘He’s not necessarily involved,’ I pointed out.

‘You know what I mean.’

There was a movement to my right and I realised that Helen was crying. Big fat tears dropped over her cheeks.

‘It’s
all my fault,’ she said, ‘I should have kept quiet.’

‘Come here,’
said  Fiona  and  put  her  arm  around Helen,  pulling  her  towards her.  They  clung together,

with
me on the outside, looking in. ‘You did the right thing.’ She looked up at me and I nodded agreement.

We were all lost in thought for a moment. Finally Fiona picked up the sheet of photographs, scrunched it into a ball and threw it as far as she could. ‘He was a rubbish boyfriend anyway.’ Helen giggled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘But I’m going to find out what he was up to that weekend.’ She looked at me, her blues eyes piercing mine. ‘And you are going to help me, Miss Detective.’

‘And me,’ said Helen, ‘You can’t leave me out.’ She pulled a pink notepad out of her bag along with matching pen and wrote the word CLUES in large square letters at the top of the page. She stuck her tongue out with concentration as she wrote. Then she wrote SUSPECTS on the opposite page. Fiona looked at me and we both burst out laughing.

 

CHAPTER 16

 

I kicked the wall, then looked back at the mirror. The shoes were wrong and the shirt didn’t fit properly. I turned to the side. That was even worse. This was what happened when I tried to find a look for myself. Nothing matched. Maybe I was colour blind. My hair was sleek and shining, but what good was that to me now? I sighed. She’d done me a favour really. Everything was going to have to change.

I’d been round to Sadie’s yesterday after I’d left Fiona and Helen, having convinced myself that Khaled was the Mystery Man. I sat on the bench conveniently placed opposite Sadie’s house and pulled my beanie down over my head. There was no sign of the man with the bike this time; there was hardly any traffic at all. I was half reading a free paper which I’d picked up at the station. Miriam was still in the news but the story was further to the back of the paper now. The information was the same old stuff regurgitated. A door slammed and I looked up. A girl was coming out of Sadie’s house. As she walked down the drive and turned into the street my heart picked up pace. I knew that walk, but…

I narrowed my eyes. The girl definitely moved in a familiar manner. She tossed her head and shook her chestnut  coloured  long hair.  It  was  gorgeous. It  was Sadie! She must have had extensions put in. That cost a fortune!  She  was  disappearing  down the road so I left the newspaper on the bench and set off after her. It had taken me so long to achieve the perfect likeness and now she had ruined it all. She’d made me feel stupid. I walked faster, trying to breathe deeply.

I wasn’t far behind Sadie now, so I slowed my pace. She’d taken her phone out of her bag and was talking into the receiver. She looked around as she talked, as if someone was telling her where something was. Then she waved and put the phone back into her pocket. A car I
recognised was coming down the road. I quickly knelt down, pretending to tie my shoelace, keeping one eye on the car. It was Mystery Man. This time she got straight into the passenger side, a grim look on her face. What was she playing at?

The car had sped off and I had gone straight home and poured out a small glass of Mum’s wine. I was getting used to the taste and I liked the way it made my head go fizzy. Back in my bedroom, I had put the glass down and stared at the mirror. I watched as my reflection ripped the shirt over my head and threw it onto the floor. My clothes were wrong because the hair was wrong. My head was all muddled. I kicked the shoes off and went into the bathroom, extracting a pair of scissors from the bathroom cupboard. I hesitated for a second,
then took the scissors to my hair, hacking it off as quickly as I could. Large red clumps fell to the floor, spilling around me like drops of blood. I stared at my face the whole time, anger propelling the scissors as they chopped more and more chunks until my hair stood in tufts on my head. I threw the scissors into the sink and went back into my bedroom. I felt better now, strangely relieved of a burden. I blanked what I had done from my mind and sat down on the floor, pulling my  laptop  down onto my lap. Mentally I added finding out whether Khaled could drive or not to my to-do list. I clicked open my emails where I was surprised to find one from Michael.

 

Hi Jasmine, It’s not long now until your visit and I can’t wait to see you. We are looking forward to visiting Paris with you - it’s a beautiful city – and then hopefully you will come and visit our home in Amersham. I’m attaching a recent photograph so you know who to expect when you arrive at the Gare du Nord. Love, Michael.

 

Curious, I clicked on the photo and a familiar face filled the screen. It was taken outside an old building. A man and a woman smiling broadly for the camera. Tears welled up inside me. He looked so familiar. I knew the woman too, I should have realised; she was the woman in the passport photo. They were both smiling, they looked happy. I stared at Michael’s face; wishing answers would jump out of the photograph. Why had he abandoned us? A rage started bubbling up inside me and I snapped the laptop closed. At the same time my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the handset. It was a text from an unknown number. I opened the message. It was from Mark, asking me if I wanted to meet up before I went away. Mixed emotions went through me. He was kind of alright, but I didn’t have time to get involved with a boy. However, I needed to find out about that weekend away. I texted back:

 

Where and when?

 

His reply was instant:

 

Breakfast 9am Starbucks

 

I jumped up and went downstairs. I poured myself another drink and settled down in front of the television. Pictures flickered in front of me but in my mind all I could see was Sadie and her new hairstyle. I could change the colour but there was no way I could have extensions. Why couldn’t I just be myself? The picture in my head changed, Michael and his glamorous new wife sprang into view. Except she wasn’t a new wife at all, they’d been married for years.

‘Jasmine, are you home?’

I drained my glass and padded out into the hall to greet Mum. My head felt a bit fuzzy. I went back and lay down on the sofa. Mum was pouring herself some wine in the kitchen.

‘Are you OK?’ she asked, filling the doorway and blocking out the light.

‘Tired,’ I said. ‘I’ve got so much to do and I haven’t even thought about packing.’

She came over to the sofa then did a double take when she caught sight of my hair.
‘Jasmine! What the hell have you done? How could you?’ She was shaking her head in disbelief.

I shrugged my shoulders, avoiding her eyes.

‘I got sick of it. Anyway, I haven’t got time to go to the hairdressers now have I? Don’t forget we’re going shopping tomorrow.’

Mum stared at me.

‘You  can’t  go  anywhere  looking like that. What on earth will your father think?’

‘Leave it Mum,’ I said between clenched teeth. ‘He has even less say than you do about the state of my hair. I like it OK?’ I was lying, regretting my spontaneous action now, but there wasn’t much I could do. She took a sip of her drink and sat down
next to me.

‘So have you remembered about tomorrow?’ I repeated.

‘Tomorrow?’

‘Yes, Friday, the day before I go away, remember? The day you take me shopping and buy me loads of clothes?’

‘Jasmine, please.’ Mum hated me being sarcastic.

‘Well you’ve forgotten haven’t you? I can tell. Have you actually remembered that I am going away?’ I looked at my phone. ‘In approximately twenty eight hours’ time I am going on my own to a strange country to stay with people that I don’t know, while you go
swanning off to America. The least you can do is take me shopping to cheer me up.’

Mum took a large gulp of her drink.

‘I haven’t forgotten, but something’s come up. I’m sorry darling, but I can’t possibly get tomorrow off. I need to be in the office. I’ll give you some money; can’t you take Tess out shopping with you?’

‘I suppose so – if she’s free.’ I didn’t want to go shopping with Mum in the least but I wished she hadn’t so clearly forgotten me and made other plans.

‘I’ll make you something nice to eat tomorrow evening and help you pack to make it up to you. How’s that?  You  can  show  me  what you’ve bought. I’ll take you to the station and see you off on Saturday, of course.’

‘Don’t go mad,’ I said. At least she’d forgotten about seeing Gran. Mum went back to the kitchen and I reached over and took a large swig of her wine.

‘Michael sent me a photo of his wife,’ I said to Mum when she came back in with a plate of sandwiches for us. ‘She’s very pretty.’

‘So I’ve heard,’ said Mum, curling her lip.

‘I bet she’s stuck up.’


Gran met her once.’ She slapped her head against her forehead. ‘I was meant to take you to see Gran as well. What is the matter with my brain these days?’

‘I won’t have time to see Gran. I’ll see her when I get back.’

‘OK,’ she looked relieved.

‘I’m going to bed now,’ I announced, when I’d had enough to eat. The wine had made me feel very sleepy. ‘I’m getting up early tomorrow. I’m meeting a friend for breakfast.’

Mum raised her eyebrows. ‘I don’t know what’s come over you lately,’ she said. ‘You’re getting very sociable all of a sudden.’

‘No I’m not,’ I said. ‘Anyway since when did you ever notice what I get up to?’

Mum looked hurt. ‘I notice everything you do,’ she said, ‘and I’m sorry I’m having to send you away, but this job in New York will hopefully secure me a lot more work over the next few months.’

She didn’t get it, it wasn’t about the money for me,
more work would mean her spending even less time at home.

‘Night,’ I said, picking up my plate to put it into the dishwasher. Mum grabbed my hand as I went past.

‘I am sorry about the shopping. I’ll leave some money out in the kitchen OK, in case I go out before you. And maybe you could find time to get a quick hair cut?’

I pulled my hand away. ‘Forget it Mum. It’s my hair so get used to it. It’ll have grown back by the time we see each other again.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said doubtfully.

‘See you in the morning.’ I cursed as I tripped over Mum’s bag which she had plonked in the
doorway, I glanced at her, my breath held in tightly. I needn’t have worried. As usual she was oblivious to me, her eyes closed, head resting back on the sofa. Would she even notice when I wasn’t there?

BOOK: Someone Like me
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