Page 18 of The Serial Killer's Sister
Anna inhales deeply. ‘Nothing.’
Kirsty raises her eyebrows. ‘What? Like … ignore it?’ She seems shocked, even though she’s been begging Anna to do just that.
‘Exactly. I’m fed up with his immaturity.’ Anna grabs the paper, and without unfolding it rips it down the middle. She bites her lip, her mind teetering between relief and regret. Should she just do this last hunt, then speak with Henry and tell him she’s not doing any more? No. He’d talk her out of it; threaten her in some way. She gets up, strides to the wire waste bin under the desk and shoves the torn paper in. ‘Screw him. I’m not playing this stupid game any more.’ She crosses her arms and gives Kirsty a confident smile. ‘I’m not giving him the satisfaction.’
‘Halleluiah. At last.’ Kirsty leaps off the bed and launches herself at Anna, flinging her arms around her. ‘I don’t get why you did them anyway. I’ve told you. You have to ignore him. His nasty games. It’s jealousy, that’s all. He has to get on with his own life, Anna.’
‘I know. Well, today is the first day I’m standing up to my brother. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?’
She’s motionless when Anna finally spots her after searching for her for the past two hours, lying in a heap at the edge of the lake.
‘Kirsty! Shit, Kirsty!’ Anna runs towards the bridge and is across the other side within seconds.
Anna drops to her knees beside her friend, lays a hand on her. Her clothes are damp; she’s been there a while. Anna’s heartbeat stutters as she puts her head on Kirsty’s chest to check if she’s breathing. She cries with relief when she feels her chest rise and fall.
‘Thank God. Kirsty, it’s me. Please open your eyes.’
Kirsty’s face looks pale and waxy, and as Anna touches it a coldness tingles through her fingertips. She’d do anything now for this to be one of Kirsty’s pranks – it’s almost Halloween; it would be typical of her to try and scare Anna by pretending she was unconscious. Last year, she’d bunked off school and at four o’clock had hidden in their shared wardrobe, waiting for Anna to return. When Anna went to change out of her uniform and opened the wardrobe, Kirsty screamed and leapt out at her. Of course, while Kirsty had collapsed in a fit of giggles at jump-scaring her friend, Anna had merely collapsed from fright, taking half an hour to calm down.
This now seems serious, though. Real. Anna shakes Kirsty’s shoulders and her eyelids flutter and open. Her eyes roll and she lets out a groan.
‘It’s okay, Kirst. You’re okay.’
‘What? Why am I …’ Kirsty pushes herself up into a sitting position and looks around, confusion crinkling her forehead.
‘Did you fall from the bridge?’ Anna asks, grasping at the most obvious reason for her friend’s current state. Ifshe’d been sitting on the end post and had lost her balance and fallen backwards, it would explain her position.
‘I don’t … I—’
‘Here,’ Anna says, offering her hand to help Kirsty stand. ‘We should get you to the office. Marnie will check you out.’
‘I’m not seeing her. Just ’cause she’s got some fancy certificate on the wall, doesn’t make her a nurse. The woman didn’t even tell us about periods until we’d been having them for a year.’
‘But you were unconscious, Kirsty. You must’ve hit your head.’
Kirsty runs a hand over her scalp. ‘No cuts.’ She shrugs. ‘Bit of a bump, mind,’ she says, wincing as she touches the back of her head.
‘You don’t remember what happened?’
‘One minute I was walking over the bridge; next, your face is looming over me. I guess I tripped.’ This puts paid to Anna’s first theory, and instead the possibility of Kirsty taking a knock to the head before collapsing takes its place. With concern creeping through her, Anna looks around to see if anyone else is loitering. It’s getting dark, so she can’t be sure, but there’s no movement, so she turns back to Kirsty. As she does, she spots something lying in the long grass and bends to pick it up.
‘Yours?’ She holds up a vodka bottle, giving Kirsty a judgemental glance.
‘Ahh, there you go. That’s what I was doing,’ Kirsty says, flippantly. ‘I’d only had a few swigs, though.’
‘Where’d you get it from?’ Anna cocks one eyebrow.
‘You know my fake Aunt Linda? She snuck it in on her last visit.’ Kirsty huffs. ‘At least she’s good for something, eh? And look, promise not to mention this to anyone, right?I’m in enough trouble without adding alcohol smuggling to the list.’
Anna’s skin prickles with unease; she has a niggling feeling something’s not quite right, but brushes it away. It was an accident, like Kirsty said. Anna reluctantly agrees not to tell anyone, but her worry for her friend lingers.
‘What if you’ve got concussion?’ she asks. ‘Or a blood clot?’
‘Oh, Anna. Don’t be so melodramatic. I’ll be fine. Look into my eyes.’
To Kirsty’s annoyance, Anna does just that, and then runs a finger in front of Kirsty’s face, getting her to follow its path forward and back a few times.
‘Yeah, okay. If you’re sure,’ Anna says, giving in.
