Soul Fire

MAY:
    THE INQUEST INTO TIM’S DEATH WAS ADJOURNED WHILE POLICE INQUIRIES CONTINUE. BUT THERE’S NO SIGN THAT THOSE POLICE INQUIRIES ARE VERY EXTENSIVE. THEY SEEM TO
     HAVE MADE THEIR MINDS UP.
    BURNING TRUTHS WILL KEEP GOING, WHATEVER HAPPENS. THERE IS MORE TO COME. MUCH MORE. BUT TIMING IS ALL. WATCH THIS SPACE IF YOU CARE ABOUT JUSTICE TOO.
    ‘You’ve not been online all night, have you, Ali?’
    Lewis! I click away from the site.
    ‘Just checking my horoscope,’ I say.
    ‘You don’t seriously believe in all that superstitious crap?’ He sounds disappointed in me.
    ‘Only the ones that say I’m going to have a brilliant day.’
    Lewis smiles. ‘Well, you’re not going to have a brilliant day unless I get you home, are you?’ He shakes his head. ‘Come on. You’ve had all night. Your parents must
be wondering where you are. And what you’ve been up to.’
    He’s blushing, as though we have actually been fooling around or something. The idea makes me blush too.
    Lewis can’t get me out of the flat fast enough, driving like a Grand Prix champ, but stopping on the main road so no one sees me getting out of his car.
    ‘You look hung-over, Alice,’ Mum says, when I let myself in. She tries to sound stern, but she’s smiling. Perhaps a sleepover with Cara is a Sign of Normality.
‘I’ll make you a coffee, shall I?’
    I clutch my head, like the worst ham actor in the world. I’m not hung-over, though I do feel wrecked.
    ‘So how was the party?’
    ‘Fun, I mean . . .’
    I don’t tell actual lies about last night. I don’t have to; Mum laps up the stories about me and Cara and Matt and Craig. She wants to know what they look like, what
they’re studying, which one I fancied. It seems like months ago somehow – I have to invent extra details and I feel guilty when I see the hope in her eyes.
    ‘It’s such fun when your best friend is going out with your boyfriend’s best friend. You know it’s how I met your father,’ she tells me.
    Finally I fake a few yawns, and she sends me upstairs to ‘sleep it off ’. She promises me a full Sunday roast later. ‘Just like we used to have.’
    I am knackered, but when I get into bed I’m wide awake. My head’s full of unsettling pictures: Gretchen floating away to the sound of birdsong, Javier fighting back tears . . . and
here in real life, someone, somewhere, hunched over a laptop, trying to choose the right moment to tell the world how Meggie met her death.

Oh, Alice, really. For a bright girl, you are exceptionally slow to learn.
    You are too young to let bad things concern you. Life should be all about cupcakes and parties and sunshine. But let the wrong people in, and you open the door to cruelty and
passion and sadness.
    Was what happened to your sister not enough of a lesson? An ego out of control, a desire for fame that made her reject those who loved her in favour of those who could make her
name?
    Meggie should be a cautionary tale. Yet instead of seeing that, you seem determined to pursue danger at whatever cost.
    Unwise, Alice. Please, focus on your own future and let your sister rest in peace – before you pass the point of no return.

26
    For a week or two after Ade’s party, we act like an ad family. Mum and Dad are all loved up: she laughs when he does something daffy, he brings home flowers. We eat
together, home-cooked food with real gravy. I work hard on my revision.
    Except a couple of things don’t quite fit the cheesy image. One, I sneak downstairs every night to read about conspiracy theories and meet my ‘imaginary’ friends. Two, my
forthcoming birthday will also be the anniversary of my sister’s death.
    Normality is stretched thin. It has to break sometime.
    This morning, when I come down to the kitchen, Mum is talking on her mobile. She sees me and walks out into the garden, even though it’s freezing.
    Dad shrugs his shoulders and butters his toast. I get some cereal and watch the breakfast telly.
    She comes back after a couple of minutes.
    ‘It’s over,’ she says.
    Dad flinches. I freeze. Time compresses. Mum’s leaving Dad? Who for? Her therapist?
    But then she says, ‘That was Fran from family liaison. She wanted to catch us before we saw the Mail . They’re running an exclusive about Meggie’s murder team being
disbanded because the case is closed.’
    ‘And is it true?’ Dad asks.
    Mum nods. ‘There was a meeting yesterday. They were meant to come and tell us in person today but