‘I know,’ Chelsea grinned, ‘you created a human being.’
Mollie nodded, smiling, and even Evie chuckled a little.
‘I’m sorry,’ Chelsea sighed, inspecting her French manicure. ‘I know I sound like a cold hard bitch. I do care. It’s all just so… exhausting.’ She turned to them, hoping they’d see what she saw. The sun was setting; the day had been emotional, horrible, shocking and somehow, briefly, comforting too. ‘Look, I’m staying at the Banner Hotel on the high street. Why don’t you two come and have breakfast with me tomorrow before I go? We could catch up on us then. But tonight, I think tonight should be for Ruby, and for the past.’
Evie lifted her near-empty plastic glass, ‘I’ll drink to that… on one condition.’
‘Which is?’
‘We go and have a real drink in a real place, because as much as I love nostalgia, I’m pretty sure my arse is damp from the grass.’
‘Agreed.’
Seeing three grown women fall out of a hedge onto the high street – laughing and clutching a near-empty bottle of pink Lambrini – might have surprised some people, but to the residents of Badgeley it was strangely fitting for the day when their biggest troublemaker finally left for good.
***
‘Why are you always in here?’ Evie looked up from her sketchpad to see a pale girl with bright red hair grinning at her.
‘They realised it’s the only time I turn up for detention.’ Evie scowled, tucking her pink-tipped black curls behind her ears and returning to her drawing.
‘What did you get detention for?’ The redhead moved closer, leaning on the desk. No one usually hung around school after hours, especially not the art department. It was the emptiest part of the school, littered with broken pencils and sad excuses for paint pots. And yet, Evie always found it to be soothing, the emptiness. There was no one there to wind her up, to push her buttons and try and control her. No teachers telling her she could have a real future if she could just sort out her attitude. No mother looking disappointed, getting calls from the school and sighing at her. No Bill, telling her she was stupid and ungrateful. In the quiet of the room after hours, her blood didn’t suddenly start to boil the minute one more person told her she was worthless. School seemed pointless, and she could go through the motions as much as the next person, but there was no point hoping for anything else, everyone knew the truth – she was a troublemaker and she had no future.
‘This dickhead grabbed my tits in Chemistry, so I kneed him in the balls.’
‘How can they give you detention for self defence?’
‘It was probably that as he was hunched over in pain like a little baby, he knocked over a Bunsen burner and set fire to his trousers.’
The girl smirked and shrugged, pulling at the worn sleeve of her uniform, ‘His fault.’
‘Probably didn’t help that I was laughing my arse off,’ Evie sniggered. ‘I’ve noticed they like it a lot more if you seem contrite. And I don’t really do that.’
The red-haired girl nodded like she was considering it, ‘Fair enough. There’s no point being fake just to please them. They should have stuck him in detention for harassment anyway. But that’s just the way the world works.’
‘Maybe it is.’
The thought was depressing when you admitted it out loud, Evie realised. The girl moved forward and looked at Evie’s drawing, so she turned the book a little so she could see. It was comic book style, featuring a cartoon of big-eyed boy clutching his crotch as flames started to lick at his knees. On the blackboard behind him, written over and over again was the phrase “I shall not touch girls without their consent”.
The girl laughed, freckles on her nose twitching as she nodded at Evie with something that looked like respect. ‘I’m Ruby.’
‘The new girl,’ Evie nodded uncertainly, ‘I’m Evie.’
Ruby grinned like she’d known that all along.
Evie didn’t sleep that night, her mind dancing with all the possibilities that Ruby had offered them. The evening had been long and drunken, and whilst the girls had promised themselves they wouldn’t talk about their new lives, inevitably they had bled through into their stories. Evie knew most of Mollie’s stories, at least when it came to Esme, being her godmother, but even she was surprised by some of the tidbits that emerged. Chelsea, well, she seemed embarrassed by how well she was doing, which wasn’t like the Chelsea they’d known at all. She had been painfully focused. All her energy went into proving people wrong, showing them she could do anything. Now she seemed… faded. Maybe that’s what happens when you have no one doubting you any more. You give up the fight.
Evie knew they could do this, and she wasn’t quite ready to give up the fight for Ruby’s dream. Yes, that was selfish, but there it was. She brushed her hair, covered up the dark circles under her eyes with some foundation and started walking into town. All around, the high street seemed to be back to normal, as if they hadn’t buried a superstar yesterday. Evie pounded down the street, noting the pound shops that seemed to have multiplied, the chicken shops and empty shop fronts. Badgeley was not a town that was improving any time soon, and the desperate need to escape was burning away inside her.
She marched into the Banner, the only decent hotel in town, and saw Mollie and Chelsea already sitting with coffees in the restaurant. Mollie’s eyes looked red, and Chelsea’s mouth was a thin line. Something had happened.
‘Anyone else’s heads pounding this morning?’ Evie asked as she slid into a seat next to Mollie.
‘You have no idea,’ Chelsea said carefully, looking at Mollie, ‘I haven’t eaten a fry up in about four years, and that’s exactly what I’m after today.’
She looked a little less intimidating today, Evie noted, her hair was softer, make-up was more natural and she was wearing jeans. If she’d put on some more eyeliner and some massive hoop earrings from Argos, she might have looked something like the girl they’d known.
‘How about you Molls, fry up?’ Evie tried to get Mollie to look up, but she tapped her fingers on the table.
‘Yeah, sure… whatever.’
‘What did she do now?’ Evie asked, straightforward. Mollie’s head whipped up. ‘Your mum?’
Mollie’s hands clenched on the table, her whole body tense. The waiter arrived to take their order, and they waited until he disappeared before talking.
‘I got home last night, and not only was she drunk as usual, but she was smoking weed in the living room. With my baby girl upstairs. Esme said she came downstairs because something smelled funny and she thought the flat was on fire.’
‘Is she okay?’ Chelsea asked.
‘Oh yeah,
