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Authors: S. C. Ransom

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“I don’t know how you can talk to me like that, like nothing’s happened!” bit the voice at the other end of the line. “After what you’ve done!”

“I’m sorry … Abbi? Is that you?” The voice was familiar but almost unrecognisable.

“I never want to speak to you again, and once I’ve told the others what you’ve done, I shouldn’t think many of them will want to, either. How could you be so cruel? I thought you were my friend.” Her voice cracked with emotion.

I couldn’t believe this was happening again, and this time with someone I cared about so much.

“Abbi, I have no idea what you’re talking about! What’s the
matter? What’s wrong?”

There was a strangled-sounding sob. “How could you do it? How could you?”

“Abbi,” I said gently. “Please, I have absolutely no idea what you mean. Take a deep breath and tell me what I’m supposed to have done.”

There was a short grunt on the other end of the line. “As if you don’t know! Check your e-mail and see if you’ve had a reply from Miss Harvey yet.”

From the headmistress? This was getting more and more bizarre.

“Why would I get an e-mail from Miss Harvey? What on earth would she be replying to?”

“Well, check your sent box and remind yourself, then. I can’t wait to hear what she has to say.”

“OK, OK. Give me a minute. I’m not logged on at the moment.” I wedged the mobile to my ear with my shoulder and opened up the laptop again. I quickly switched it on and opened my e-mail account. It was terribly slow as usual, and I could hear Abbi sniffing in the background. “Right, I’m in. What exactly am I looking for?” I was trying to navigate to the sent folder as I spoke, wondering what I was going to find. Then I saw it,
part-way
down the list, a message with the subject line
Abbi Hancock.
I quickly opened it and scanned the contents, feeling more and more horrified as I went down the page.

“What on earth…? Abbi, what’s all this about? How did this happen?”

“Oh, stop pretending!” she snapped. “Why would you do this to me? You’ll get me expelled!”

“I … I haven’t done anything, Abbi. I promise!” I needed
some time to work this out. “Look, give me a minute will you? Let me read it properly at least.”

The e-mail was long. It was addressed to Miss Harvey, and was a comprehensive list of all Abbi’s school misdemeanours over the years, none of which she had been punished for as she was brilliant at appearing innocent. They ranged from breaking windows, putting green food dye in the swimming pool on St Patrick’s Day, skipping school and, most recently, burning the toast in the common room, which had brought the fire brigade out again. Sending an e-mail like that was the kind of thing no friend would do, and I could feel a creeping horror as I realised why she was so upset. It had come from my e-mail account, addressed to Miss Harvey, and whoever had sent it had copied Abbi in for good measure. It was vicious. “Abbi, what can I say? It really wasn’t me. You must know I’d never do anything like this. Someone must have hacked into my account.”

“Really?” she sneered. “So explain the bit about the swimming pool? You’re the only person I
ever
told about that – the only one. Explain that! And don’t think you can talk me round. Miss Harvey is going to annihilate me tomorrow. She’s been waiting to pounce on someone for weeks about the toast and you’ve just handed me to her on a plate. But before she gets to me I’m going to let absolutely everyone know just what sort of a friend you really are!”

My mind was racing as she spoke, and then I noticed something: I checked the e-mail addresses at the top, and looked again a bit more closely. The address was wrong, with an “n” instead of an “m” in the middle of it. Abbi obviously hadn’t spotted it. I quickly opened my inbox and there, part way down was a message saying that the e-mail had been returned undelivered.

“Abbi!” I shouted over her. “The e-mail didn’t get to Miss Harvey – it bounced back. She won’t know anything about it.”

I could hear tapping as Abbi scanned through her inbox, and an audible sigh of relief; she had seen the mistake in the address. Her secrets were still safe. But the sigh was followed by a prolonged silence.

“Abbi, are you still there?”

Nothing.

“Abbi, speak to me.”

“If this is your idea of a joke,” she hissed, “you’ve got a really sick sense of humour. Have you any idea what I’ve been going through since I read that e-mail? I didn’t have you down as cruel, but now I know better. Don’t speak to me tomorrow, or ever again for that matter.” The phone went dead.

I sat back, appalled, staring at the handset. Fear clutched at my stomach again. What was going on?

The next morning at school Abbi blanked me completely, but she didn’t seem to have told the others about the e-mail. I tried to talk to her a couple of times but she kept turning her back and eventually I gave up. At lunchtime I found a quiet part of our corner of the common room to sit, and kept my head down. The thought of that e-mail kept coming back to me, and every time it made my stomach flip. I couldn’t imagine the trouble Abbi would have been in if it had actually arrived. After she had called I had scoured through my e-mail account to see if I could find any clue to what had happened, but the only thing that was unusual was the deleted items folder. It was completely empty, and I wasn’t able to recover any items either; someone must have wiped everything when they’d hacked into it. I changed the password to something obscure and hoped that it would be enough, wishing that I could talk through the whole thing with Callum.

He didn’t usually arrive unannounced at school any more. The amount of gathering he had to do kept him pretty busy, and I was keen that he did as much as possible during the day to keep his late afternoons and early evenings free. But I missed having him around; that excitement of when he might appear, the welcome tingle in my arm before he spoke. I let my thoughts drift to the weekend, when I was sure I could find an excuse to get up to London and see him face to face again. We had only been able to
meet twice so far, and the logistics were really difficult, but it was worth it to hold him and feel his strong arms around me.

As I relived the memories of our last encounter Grace arrived and squeezed on to the beanbag next to me.

“Hiya,” she said. “You’re very quiet today. What’s up?”

I smiled briefly. “Oh, I’m all right, I suppose. I seem to have upset Abbi though, so now she’s not talking to me.”

“Oh, no! What have you gone and done now?” Grace laughed.

“It’s not funny, and I haven’t done anything!” I told her indignantly. “Can I tell you about it later? I don’t really want everyone earwigging.”

“OK, course. You can fill me in at Eloïse’s party tonight. Now, that’ll cheer you up, anyway. Want a lift?”

Grace had just passed her driving test and her parents had given her the use of a little car, so we were now able to whizz around without involving her dad quite so much. I wasn’t really sure I felt up to a party, not with Abbi going, but I had agreed it with Grace after we had both got out of hospital and we had been looking forward to it.

“I guess. I’m not sure how long I’ll stay though.”

“Are the parents still giving you grief?”

“No, it’s not that, they’re fine about the whole thing. I’m just not sure I want to spend the evening with…” I nodded my head towards Abbi. “Or, more to the point, if she’ll want to spend the evening with me.”

“Look, whatever it is you two have fallen out over, you can’t let it ruin Eloïse’s party – that’s not fair,” Grace whispered. “After all, it’s not her fault.”

“I know. I just don’t feel very party-ish…”

“Don’t tell me you’d rather spend the evening on the Internet again!” Grace looked at me accusingly. “Callum’ll understand that you have a life, surely; you can’t be online all the time.”

Once again, I really wished I could tell Grace the truth about Callum. She was always asking awkward questions about how we’d first got in touch, and why he didn’t have a Facebook page, and did he have any plans to come over from Venezuela? I was really regretting giving her that particular detail. Sooner or later she was going to stop buying the Internet story anyway, even though I’d finally given her a picture, which seemed to have satisfied her curiosity about what he looked like.

I sighed audibly. “I know, he does understand really, he’s delighted when I go out. But it’s not about him, it’s all the other stuff.”

“Well, the best way to deal with Abbi is to ignore her. She’ll come round eventually, you know she will.”

“OK, you win. I’d love a lift, thanks, but are you sure I won’t be in the way? I don’t want to play gooseberry with you and Jack.”

“Oh, don’t worry, he’s not coming with us. His mum’s dragging him to some sort of work party first, poor boy.”

Grace smiled contentedly, thinking of Jack. He was a great friend of mine and I was delighted that the two of them were getting on so well. Grace’s recent hospital scare had made him even more attentive so he was always keen to make the extra effort to see her.

“OK, you had better give me my orders then. What time will you pick me up and what should I be wearing?” I said, resigned to being organised by her as usual.

“Well.” She looked me up and down, pursing her lips. “I know you’ve got Callum so you won’t want to attract
too
many
other blokes this evening. But … on the other hand he won’t be there, and you don’t want Rob to think that you are going to pieces, so I think we’re going to go with the full-on beautiful babe look.”

“Rob’ll be there? Really? Right, that’s it, I’m definitely not going.” I had been doing my best to avoid Rob, my ex
-almost-boyfriend
. As far as I could tell he was still being insufferably smug about the whole Kew Gardens affair, dropping hints and letting everyone know that he had saved the day. I knew that he had been responsible for some unsubtle comments at the time, and although I didn’t think he was still making the accusation, he was failing to squash the rumours that it had been a suicide attempt on my part. He had even tried to give the impression that I was upset over him and the fact that we were no longer going out together. I wasn’t sure that I would be able to resist giving him a piece of my mind if I saw him.

“Oh come on, you can’t let him get away with all that rubbish. And what better way of sticking it to him than turning up looking gorgeous and completely unavailable?”

I turned that thought over, and it did have a certain appeal. “All right, you’re on. What are my wardrobe instructions?”

Grace sat up, suddenly excited. “Can I really choose everything? Excellent! Now, let me think…”

My heart sank as I realised she was really going to go for it, but I had to let her have her fun. After all, I had been responsible for her recent near-death experience. Every time I thought about it my blood ran cold, and that made me feel even meaner for deceiving her. I hated keeping secrets from her but I couldn’t see a sensible way out of the problem; she was never going to believe me if I told her the truth about how Callum’s sister had tried to kill us both before successfully killing herself. That was the only good
thing about it; Catherine was gone from my life and Callum’s, and neither of us was going to miss her.

 

In the end, Grace decided to come to my house to make sure that I did things properly. Mum had organised for someone to fix the window, so I had daylight again, and the room had been left unnaturally tidy after all the vacuuming to clear up the glass. My old hair straighteners had been unearthed, and Grace leapt on them with enthusiasm, spending nearly an hour trying to get out the little kinks in my almost-straight hair before insisting on supervising my make-up. When I finally got to look in the mirror I nearly didn’t recognise myself. My long tangle of blonde hair had been tamed into sleek lines, and the outfit she had put together from the dregs in my wardrobe made me look tall and elegant.

Grace stood back to review her work, smirking gently as I gaped at my reflection. “Rob is going to be
sooo
cross with himself tonight. You look stunning.”

I nodded mutely and the stranger in the mirror mimicked my movements.

“Now,” she continued, suddenly businesslike, “we need to go in about ten minutes and I don’t seem to be ready yet. Give me two minutes to use your bathroom and then I’ll just touch up my make-up. Don’t fiddle with anything!”

As she said it my hand, which had been twitching up towards my hair, dropped back down to my side. “OK, I promise,” I said meekly.

“Good. I’ll be back in a sec. Just sit still.” The door swung shut behind her and I heard her fighting with the temperamental bathroom lock.

I turned back to look in the mirror. I knew that Callum
would have been watching, so I waited for the tingle in my arm. Within seconds he was at my side, his unruly dark-blond hair looking even more appealing than usual next to my carefully coiffed look. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I don’t have long; she’ll be back in a second.”

“I know, but I just wanted to say goodnight before you went off to the party, as I’m not sure I’ll be able to be here when you get back.”

I pouted at him. “I’d much rather be spending the evening here with you, you do know that, don’t you?”

He gave me one of his most devastating smiles. “I know, but you can’t stay in for ever. You have to go out with your friends sometimes.”

“I’m just not looking forward to it very much. I don’t want to spend the evening gossiping with the girls, and watching the boys try their luck before seeing who can drink the most without being sick. I want to be with you, and we’ve had so little time over the last few days. There’s loads of stuff I wanted to talk to you about.” I still hadn’t found the right moment to tell him about the note and Ashley’s unprovoked attack.

A strange look crossed his face. “You do look spectacularly gorgeous tonight.” His free hand, the one not lined up with my amulet, reached up to stroke my hair, then hesitated. “I almost don’t dare touch you, I’m frightened of messing things up.”

“Don’t worry about that,” I objected. “It’s not for anyone’s benefit.”

“I wish it were for mine,” he said in a voice so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

I could practically feel my heart twisting. “It
is
for you, always. You know that.”

This time the smile was rueful. “You know how much I wish that were possible. But you do have a life, and I don’t want to get in the way.”

“You’ll never be in the way!” I reached up and tried to stroke his face, feeling as usual just the merest hint of resistance in the air. He looked glum. “Was the gathering not so good today?”

“No, it was fine, really. I … I just…” he hesitated and looked away.

“Callum, what is it? Tell me quickly before Grace comes back or I’ll be worrying all night.”

“You look different, so … sophisticated. And stunning, of course. You just don’t look much like my Alex. And this is how it should be, you getting ready with your mates to go out partying. This is what you deserve.” He finally looked into my eyes and I could see the sorrow there.

“Don’t you dare think like that!” I flashed back at him as loudly as I could. “I really don’t care what the others think, and all of this is just nonsense.” I gestured towards the clothes and my fancy hair. “It’s you, Callum, only you.” My voice softened. “I wouldn’t swap any of them for you. I love you.”

He seemed to relax a little. “I know you do, truly. I guess I’m just a little … well, jealous, I suppose.”

“Well, why don’t you come? You could get to meet – or at least
see
– a few of my friends, even if they don’t get to meet you. Then you can be absolutely sure that you have no competition whatsoever.”

He gave the smallest of smiles. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not sure that would be a good idea. I’ve never minded being just an observer before, watching concerts or people at parties, but it’s much harder when you know some of the real participants, now
I know you and your friends. It makes me even more aware of what I’m missing, and it gets a bit … difficult.”

It was my turn to look glum. “I’m so sorry. I wish things were different.” I heard the lock turn on the bathroom door. “Quick, Grace is coming back. Can I see you in St Paul’s tomorrow? I can probably find an excuse to be getting out on a Saturday.”

“I’d love that. I’ll see you in the morning, then. Have a good night.” His hand moved to touch my hair but fell away before he reached it. The rueful smile was back.

“I love you, Callum.”

The smile finally reached his eyes. “I love you too. See you.” His face disappeared as the bedroom door opened and Grace walked in.

“Hmm, you’ve not ruined anything, well done. I thought you’d have started rearranging everything the minute I turned my back.”

I turned quickly so that she couldn’t see the tears. However much I loved Callum this life was hugely difficult, and I could see no way to make it any easier. I took a deep breath to steady myself. There was no point in getting emotional, especially not now.

“Right, let’s go before I smudge my mascara or something.” I handed Grace her bag, scooped mine from the floor and switched off the light, glancing in the mirror as I did so. For a second I thought I saw him there, watching, but when I looked closer he was gone.

 

Eloïse’s seventeenth birthday party was being held in a hall near her home, as too many people had been invited to make it either comfortable or sensible to have it in the house. This way she could relax too. There were a small number of adults lurking
unobtrusively early on, but they soon disappeared behind the bar to keep some control over the potent mixture of teenagers and alcohol. One of the school bands was playing, and we spent a lot of the evening dancing wildly in front of the stage, encouraging them as much as possible, and trying to ignore the terrible acoustics in the institutional-looking room. Eloïse had done what she could to liven it up with balloons and streamers, and it
did
look much less like an old village hall than usual.

BOOK: Perfectly Reflected
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