Roadkill (LiveWire) Read online

  “What’s LV?”

  “Or who? New boyfriend…..” Leo muses.

  I snort, “No chance, you know what Rose is like. Um… was like.” A stab of pain, which I ignore.

  “True, the world would have known if she split with Ashley. Probably would have been published in Heat magazine.” Leo giggles like a girl and in spite of myself I smile.

  “Do you remember when Carl Jackson asked her out?”

  He grins, “And she said, “Sorry mate, I really don’t fancy you.” And just carried on telling us that crazy story about pigs.”

  “Pigs? Jeez Leo, how do you remember all that stuff? I wish I had a photographic memory and all that. No wonder you got great exam results.”

  LV was scribbled a couple of times throughout March and April, but there is nothing to tell who or what it was. A cursory search of the wardrobe, chest of drawers, and even under the bed yields nothing but the usual girly mess of clothes, toiletries, stray tampax, shoes… Apparently bored with the lack of action Leo asks permission and flicks on her computer. Earlier doubts seemingly gone, he is full of energy and buzz. I look up, pushing hair out of my eyes.

  “Waste of time. The police went through everything,” for a second I feel uneasy, “So did Garry.”

  “Well I expect your mum asked him to, he’s an IT bloke isn’t he? And I know he bugs you but he is her boyfriend. Although if you ask me he was always down on Rose. You know all that stuff about she should be studying not breaking her neck out on mountains, or wasting her time modelling.” Leo has captured the poor man’s Australian accent, and his gruff voice, to perfection.

  I almost smile, tell Leo he should be an actor, and put it out of my mind. But then I see Garry again, carefully tapping at the keyboard. It was after the police brought her stuff back so I guess it might have been just curiosity……or like Leo says mum asked him to have a look.

  “Caz?” Leo flicks my arm, “Can you hear me? Come back! Jeez I wish you wouldn’t do that drifting off thing. It’s like talking to a ghost or something. Listen, don’t worry. Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it okay?”

  “Yeah, I suppose so.”

  “Now there must be something, but all you’ve got is a load of dust and cheap make-up. What are you looking for anyway?” Leo pulls a packet of dolly mixtures from his baggy beige pockets and carefully selects a pink sugar-crusted one. If you listed all the things Leo could have been bullied for at college it would have been pages long, and yet he slips through life with minimal hassle, smiling his gentle dreamy smile. It was like nobody noticed him. In fact a couple of times I had to check it wasn’t just me and my imaginary friend chilling out in the canteen.

  “I don’t know! But for a start why she was on the bloody road in the first place. I mean, we all use the bridge.”

  Our sprawling estate, Whitmoor, was helpfully built on loads of farmland, separated by the road from the nearest town; Broadridge Heath with all its amenities, schools, sports centre. Clever old developers, I wonder how they swung that one. Come and live in the middle of the pretty countryside, oh we forgot to mention your only way out is across a motorway overpass. No wonder the estate is crap, full of bored teenagers and stressed out single mums.

  The computer blinks crossly into life, dust dancing over its screen as sun floods through the window. The room already smells musty, disused.

  “Perhaps she was hitching a lift, or getting dropped off.” Leo suggests, flicking through emails, “Hey this is interesting.”

  “No, if we get a lift they use the slip road and drop us at the top. Nobody would stop on a motorway. You know that!” But I am remembering that there is a lay-by somewhere down near the bridge, possibly even within a hundred yards of the place where she was found…..I’ve seen lorries parked overnight down there.

  Filing this thought away for future reference, I hitch myself up on the edge of the desk, legs dangling, peering at the screen.

  ‘Looking forward to it babe, I dare you to go for the big one! Don’t forget to message me on LV. ’

  “Who’s Kelly Johnson?”

  “How would I know? She had so many friends, I think she lost count,” I detect a note of bitterness in my voice and hastily swallow, “Seriously, could be anyone she met snowboarding, on the athletics team, street dance….We’re wasting our time. You were right. The police have already been over everything.”

  Energy fading I feel that wave of uselessness, apathy returning, and wonder if I could just spend the rest of my life in bed. It seemed like such a good idea this morning, but the sheer size of the task I have set myself now crushes me. I feel like a beetle under a boulder.

  “Shut it Caz, you need a sugar hit!” he scrunches the bag of sweets under my nose.

  “I hate dolly mixtures,” I tell him sulkily, scratching at my nail polish. Wish I hadn’t been so thorough when I got ready for the party last night. The dark red is always a bitch to get off. And it clashes with my red hair.

  “Eat it and pay attention.”

  Stuffing a handful in my mouth I look where he’s pointing. Leo’s nails are better manicured that mine.

  “Oh my god. Its LV.” Under the email is a little icon, and an advertising banner. The L and V are entwined in silver and black.

  “Click on it!” Behind the LV is an arty shadowy sword and moon, and the icon next to Kelly Johnson’s name was a purple rose with a six in the middle. Weird.

  Leo is amused, “What do you mean click on it?”

  I slap his shoulder, “You know what I mean. Like on those sites that pop up when you’re on the internet. You click and it takes you to a site.”

  “Why do you think it’s a site?”

  Why is he being so deliberately stupid? I lean over and grab the mouse.

  “Wow, it’s a forum! Look at all this stuff….” I start to get excited as adrenalin hits my bloodstream; or maybe it’s excess sugary sweets.

  “LiveWire. Extreme sports for extreme people. Can you handle it?” Leo reads the bold slogan.

  I am already scrolling down, reading bits of postings, “Oh my god Leo, look, it’s just the kind of thing she loves. This photo is freaky.”

  My best friend peers at the thumbnail I indicate and then enlarges it. Two teenage girls are abseiling down a church. At night. They appear to be using a couple of ropes held by shadowy figures at the top of the crenulated bell tower. One of the rope holders is swigging from a bottle of vodka.

  “That’s crazy! They don’t have any proper safety equipment. How stupid is that?” He tuts disapprovingly and I remember Rose teasing him for being an old woman.

  For a while we are silent, scrolling through the pictures, some are live feeds, and all of them are teenagers doing crazy things; car surfing, jumping off cliffs into the sea, driving at high speed through deserted streets. At night.

  Chapter Three

  I bite my thumbnail, “It’s just like extreme sports at night though, I mean she would have loved it. Do you think she was climbing the bridge or something for a dare? Before she, um before her…” I can’t bring myself to say ‘her death’ because then it would be final. My shoulders and neck are aching from hunching over the computer.

  “I found Kelly Johnson. She has loads of posts.” Leo adjusts his glasses, lank straw coloured hair tucked behind his rather prominent ears.

  “See if there are any for last month. I can’t see that Rose actually posted anything.” I complain. My eyes are crossing from scanning down the list, heart leaping every time I get to a Rosie or Rosa.

  “Might not have done it under her real name. I bet lots of these are aliases.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Duh. Most of what they do it breaking the law. This bloke ‘Dawes’, he was doing one of these dares last night and check out the video.”

  I do, and note the camera focusing on the Speedo in his car; 120mph through an estate not dissimilar to ours.

  “Good point. What about the little icons next to their names. Like t
his Kelly has six, and ‘Dawes’ has twenty-two. Wait I know! It’s like eBay,” Leo gives me a funny look.

  “You know, your get a number of stars depending on how many times you buy or sell. I bet that means how many dares they’ve done.”

  We’ve been up here for hours, and Mum is going to be disappointed we have done zero clearing out.

  “I need to head off. See you tomorrow, or do you want to come over tonight?” Leo checks his watch, a silly schoolboy swatch thing with a bright red face.

  I shake my head, still fascinated by LiveWire. Transfixed by a video of three blokes walking along a high wire suspended between a block of flats, my head is aching but dammit this stuff is compulsive viewing. I have almost forgotten my quest. But not quite.

  “Can’t tonight. I could meet you by the skate park at ten. Or we could do some charity shopping first? ” I look at him hopefully.

  “You know I don’t really get the whole vintage clothing thing Caz! Why would you want to wear a skirt your Gran could have owned? I want a lie-in anyway,” He sighs, flicking me a last sweet, “Catch!”

  Take it that’s a ‘no’ then. I miss the lurid green square, and it tumbles into the dust under Rose’s bed. Me and Rose loved to trawl the charity shops in town, and luckily Broadridge Heath is stuffed with them. When I hooked up with Leo we used to occasionally bully him into coming along. Now Rose is gone he’s an essential accessory, and although he claims to find the whole thing boring he once snapped up a genuine Armani suit for a fiver!

  Just now though Leo is looking at me with a concerned expression, hazel eyes squinting behind the thick lenses. “Don’t watch that all night will you Caz. They’re just stupid. I mean, they could kill themselves doing stuff like that.”

  We stare at each other, and the words seem to echo in the dusty air. Then Leo shrugs and says we’ll talk about it tomorrow.

  I watch the door bang behind him, shocked. We just hit on what could be the truth and he walked out. I am stupidly upset, but turn determinedly back to the screen. If my sister died doing one of these stupid dares, I am going to find out.

  Mum is back late, which gives me time to check out the rest of the LiveWire site. It seems to be international, with members from Australia, Asia, USA, all teens, and all doing crazy stuff. Occasionally, and I pay particular attention to these, the pictures and feeds show it all goes wrong. Updates from other members’ document arrests, hospital stays, and the flashing blue lights make me edgy. Did she see the lights of the ambulance, or was she dead already?

  “Caroline? Are you home?”

  Oh great, its Mum’s bloke, Garry. He’s a loser if ever I met one, with his dumb shaggy light brown hair, and big open face. Like a St Bernard dog. He even has big white teeth. Can’t believe Mum gave him a key. Reluctantly I log off and stretch, shoulders aching. The sense of surreal purpose that has kept me going has snapped, and I’m exhausted again. Wish I could sleep.

  “Hi Garry,” I stamp down the stairs, as he is bustling round, turning the oven on, taking ingredients from the store cupboard. The only good thing about this man is that he can cook. But men look stupid in aprons, and his is a naff jokey one, which makes it worse.

  I do try not to be mean to Garry, but it just happens. Despite the fact Leo is dead right, and he was always nagging her about careers and stuff, Rose liked him, and she used to lecture me on giving him a break, how happy he made mum. Mentally I give her two fingers, wherever she is now.

  “How are you doing Caroline? Do you fancy spag bol for dinner?”

  With his big muscular body, and slightly sweaty face Garry looks like he would be more at home wrestling snakes in the outback, than frying onions. His Australian accent gets on my nerves.

  “Whatever.”

  He looks anxious, “I hope you don’t mind me coming over…..but your mum did ask.”

  I make a huge effort, “Of course not Garry,” go on say it Caz, just do it, “ It’s….it’s nice to see you.”

  He relaxes and beams, big watery blue eyes disappearing into layers of tanned wrinkles.

  “I’ll see you later. Just going over to see Leo.” Of course I wasn’t, but now I just need to get out.

  “Oh, well okay. Shall I leave some in the oven for when you get back?”

  “Yeah, great. Bye Garry.” I make my escape before Mum arrives home, especially as I told her I was staying in tonight. There is of course another reason why I don’t want to be alone with him. Again I hear Leo’s words, “He was always down on her about something.”

  Never seemed to bother her though, she just accepted his criticism and carried on doing exactly what she had been going to do in the first place. He was interviewed by the police twice though….

  It’s cloudy outside now, the moon peering sulkily from a grey flecked sky, but the air is hot and sultry. Late July and I’m sick of summer. My head hurts from staring at the screen, and I meander slowly along our street, spying on the happy, and less than happy families in the ugly red brick houses. Little squares of parched brown gardens are littered with discarded kids’ toys, like garish plastic flowers. The smell of barbeque smoke wafts sausages, burgers, and a reminder of Dad.

  I don’t often let Dad into my head, because it was a long time ago and he messes with my mind. He was killed on duty in Iraq. Mum keeps all his photos up, and I’m surprised Garry ever dares stay the night with dad staring down at him from every wall. The Vultures have kind of been with me since I was eleven, and just as I get rid of them, finish those crappy counselling sessions, Rose brings them all back. Nice one sis.

  My hair is sticky and itchy on my neck and I fumble for a band to plait the curly mess out the way. Wish I had straight hair. A beep on my phone is Melissa, a girl from college. We get on quite well, and I think she fancies Leo, because she’s always trying to engineer the three of us going out. Sometimes we do and she goes all coy and girly with him. Bless him, he just turns red and mumbles rubbish. He made me promise not to tell anyone about him being gay.

  I scroll through the phonebook with an idle thumb, freezing when I get to Rose. As usual I hover over the edit button, until a little message on screen asks if I want to delete this contact. Just do it, I tell myself. I am shaking with emotion, and bite my lip hard, before hitting ‘no’. No I don’t want her deleted, no I don’t want her dead. I can’t do this by myself.

  It might be summer, but I shiver in my thin T- shirt. Perhaps Rose just walked over my grave. No that would be wrong….it’s not me that’s dead. I have walked to the fringes of the Estate, and the shadowy bushes that screen us from The Road are bright with headlights. Deliberately I turn right, carefully skirting the bridge, heading like a homing pigeon for Leo’s flat.

  Shortcutting down the narrow footpath I dodge a couple of muscular blokes on bikes, and even though it’s dark, memory sears my brain. Because as usual Rose is closer at night.

  “Are you okay?” Rose was in front as usual, and she leapt off to kneel beside the injured cyclist.

  “Yeah. Just my leg,” the boy winced, geeky blonde hair a curtain over his pinched pale face. There was a deep cut on his right ankle, where the chain had apparently come off. Smart beige trousers were torn and his over large red check shirt was draped across skinny shoulders. He looked like a grubby scarecrow.

  “Hey, it’s Leo,” I dismounted more slowly and propped my bike against a lamppost. It was only the second time I’d seen Leo, although we’d texted a lot since we met a week previous at the fair. I offered to show him around, help him settle into the area. It was the first day back after half term, a weird time to start a new school, but he didn’t seem much bothered.

  “Lots of blood, not much damage,” Rose announced, deftly hauling Leo to his feet.

  We had been in to town first and grabbed a Macdonald’s breakfast, before forcing our way over the rickety wooden bridge and through the edge of the park, to college. Rose obviously enjoyed the terrain but my new jeans were ripped by the brambles, and I was not in a good mood.r />
  The twisting, muddy footpath was dotted with tree roots and dog poo.

  “Oh. Hi Caz. Sorry, I know I said I’d see you in the canteen, but hey, I couldn’t wait!” He was struggling to his feet, and I remember Rose flashing us both a look.

  Efficiently, scornfully, she fixed Leo’s bike and the three of us headed off for the first day of term.

  It’s very dark, and this side road is quiet, leading past looming stinky recycling bins. I wrinkle my nose, fiddling with my phone as a bus chugs past in a cloud of smog and dust. A noise from the undergrowth makes me jump, and sets my heart crashing against my ribs. Rustling, a thud of feet and I feel a hand on my bare arm. Spinning round, I raise a feeble elbow, cringing away from my attacker.

  “Caz! Are you okay?”

  Narrowing my eyes against the glare of a flashlight I draw a long quivering breath, “Matt?”

  Dimly registering his companion I lower my arm “Ashley? What the hell are you two doing here?”

  Chapter Four

  It is indeed Rose’s boyfriend and sexy Matt. Relief makes me angry, and they look shamefaced.

  “Sorry. We were just sitting down there,” Ashley indicates the long slope, tangled with brambles and crappy yellow flowering weeds. At the bottom of the slope The Road beckons.

  “Why?” I demand, gripping my phone like a weapon. Crazy thoughts are rushing through my admittedly exhausted mind. Like did Ashley and Matt kill Rose? Maybe they pushed her in the road, and the hit and run driver didn’t see her…..

  Then I look properly at Ashley’s devastated face. He looks like the kind of thin weedy kid Rose would despise, but with him it’s deceptive, and hides a catlike athletism. Ashley is like the perfect match for Rose, despite being a year younger, and he was only waiting to finish college before he and Rose were off travelling.

  Anyway the point is his normally spiky blonde hair is plastered over his thin face, red eyes etched with purple shadows. His lips are rigid and clenched as though to stop from crying out. He looks like my reflection in the mirror, and I feel a little bit sorry. Sorry that he lost his wonderful girlfriend, but I lost my wonderful sister and I think that comes first.