annoyed I’d become.
‘Can’t you take a pill or summing?’ said Max.
‘Like you, you mean?’ I snipped.
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Oh, I get it. You’re pissed I didn’t tell you about the weed.’
‘Yeah, all right, I am. I know everything about you, Max. I know that still sleep with the same Buddy Bear that your nan bought you when you were born.’
‘Ssh,’ he said, looking back for the others, but they were way behind us now.
‘I know you love tomatoes but hate ketchup. I know where you got every single bracelet on your wrist, cos I was with you when you got them all. I know you still use the peach shampoo Jessica used to like. I even know why that little tuft of hair won’t grow at the base of your neck. So why don’t I know you do drugs?’
‘It’s not like it’s heroin, Ells; just a bit of skunk. It’s no big deal.’
‘You said weed, now it’s skunk? Isn’t that the strongest one?’
‘Nah, it’s cool. It relaxes me. Seriously. Don’t sweat it.’
‘But people have gone mad on that, Max. Like, proper schiz. Are you high right now?’
‘Stop making such a big deal out of it! It’s nothing. I just didn’t tell you cos I knew you’d get a hair up your ass about it.’
‘How often?’ I asked.
He was getting antsy. ‘Just a few spliffs now and again.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Oh for God’s sake, just now and again, all right? A couple of spliffs in the morning. A shottie or summing before I go to bed. It helps me sleep.’
I couldn’t believe what he was saying. I was waiting for him to smile and say he was joking. But he didn’t.
‘You should try it. Might loosen you up a bit.’ He swigged from his Acid Rain bottle – the final straw.
‘God, you are being the biggest arsehole today!’
‘No, I just meant to relax you. I didn’t mean…’
As I barged past him, he threw me a look like I’d taken his Buddy Bear and given him a bundle of barbed wire to cuddle.
The descent through the long grasses stopped at thick walls of leaves, and the long grey road of the Strawberry Line. The trains that used to run along there had taken strawberries and cheese to Bristol, and beyond. Now the tracks were gone and all the way along was an overgrown archway of trees and hedges, broken up in one direction by a huge black arc – the tunnel. A jogger huffed past and two cyclists were mere dots on the horizon. Apart from a dog walker with four elderly shih-tzus, we four were alone. We started walking, Fallon and Corey chattering away like old friends. Max was swigging Acid Rain, and I was ignoring him.
‘Pete jogs down here,’ I said. There was a definite eye roll from Max but I didn’t draw attention to it. ‘I’ve done some sprints along here too, at West Brynstan where the bend is.’
‘Who’s faster, you or Pete?’ asked Corey,
‘Oh Pete of course,’ Max butted in. ‘Pete’s good at everything. You should see him curing lepers.’ He sniggered and swigged at his bottle. I gave him the stink eye but he was ignoring me this time.
The air became colder as we reached the mouth of the tunnel; the smell of the limestone took me straight back in time. The slimy feel of the walls at the darkest point – the drip of rock water on my hair – all gave me a familiar thrill.
A little way along, Corey called out ‘Oh my God’ and it echoed around us. He’d seen a group of cats, all crowded around the carcass of a dead rabbit. As soon as they saw the torch, they began to scatter; some running back the way we’d come, others straight on into the tunnel.
‘I told you there were cats down here,’ said Fallon. ‘Was any of them Mort, Corey?’
‘No,’ he called back, his voice sounding strangled.
‘You really love Mort, don’t you?’
Corey sniffed. ‘He means a lot to me. I found him in a skip. He was only a few days old. I took him home and stayed up all night, giving him milk, keeping him warm. Granddad said I could only keep him if I laid out for all his food. So I did. He was my reason.’
None of us asked what Corey meant by that. I think we all just knew.
All of a sudden, there was chaos behind us. We looked back into the darkness to see four figures on bikes, all hollering. As they got nearer, I realised they were just kids. But they were shouting abuse – mostly at Fallon.
I couldn’t make out all of what they were shouting, but the odd phrase was clear. All right, retard? How’s your goats doing, Fallon? Hey, ugly girl! Butterface! Two boys and two girls, all younger than us. The eldest boy, no more than twelve, waggled his tongue at her as his bike sailed past. It was all over in seconds.
‘Who were they?’ said Max as the whoops died away in the distance.
‘Oh, just the Shaws. The boys go to that posh private school over in the next village. They’re idiots. They shaved a couple of our goats over Easter. And they write things on the farmhouse walls sometimes. They think Mum’s a witch who kills and skins people. You must have heard the rumours.’
None of us could deny it. We’d all heard the things people in Brynstan said about Rosie. The things we had all said. Things we’d laughed at.
‘Can we go and see the Witch’s Pool?’ asked Corey. ‘Just for old time’s sake?’
‘Uh yeah, if you like,’ said Fallon. ‘I doubt there will be any cats up there though. Never seen any animals round there at all.’
We were all looking at Max, as though it was up to him to decide whether or not we should go. He shrugged. So we carried on walking.
What had seemed like miles when I was a kid, actually took about ten minutes. Fallon suddenly veered off to the left where there was a weather-beaten sign saying Wit Po and she mounted the bank where some makeshift steps had been carved in the red earth. Max glanced at me then followed on behind her and Corey picked up the rear.
‘Do people still come here?’ I asked, as Fallon parted the overhanging branches to reveal a large overgrown meadow.
‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘The car park’s just through those trees on the other side and it’s all overgrown and people just tend to use it to dump old mattresses and oil drums. I don’t even think the sign’s on the main road any more. It’s hardly a tourist attraction now.’
I felt uneasy as we walked through those long grasses. I wasn’t actually scared – I guess it was a fear left over from childhood. A habit I hadn’t grown out of. I had no reason to be afraid of it now. And once we had reached
