‘It won’t hurt, Carls,’ she says, somewhere outside of my ears. ‘It won’t hurt at all. They’ll give her something, she won’t feel a thing, won’t know what’s going on. She’ll probably even just fall asleep. She likes that medicine, doesn’t she? Where do you think I got it? You said it yourself, she’s out like a light … They just want to look at her. They won’t touch her, just look. Won’t touch. That’s what he said. It won’t mean anything to her. She might not ever remember it. She just has to sit there, doze, even fall asleep, whatever. It’ll be easier for her than it is for us…’

For a moment I think I’m floating, like the cigarette smoke disappearing into the air.

‘We have to, Carls.’ Her voice furls around my head. ‘It’s the only 158way. We’d never find anyone else on the quiet. There’d be red flags all over the place. She trusts you, Carls. And him. It’ll be like going somewhere with her brother and sister. We’ll get her a present afterwards – hamburger, knickerbocker glory, the lot. That’s all…’

Her voice seems to fade away as I rest my head on the post, lids drooping over my eyes, street chatter and hum rising and falling around me like radio waves, up and down, up and down.

It’s just a bit of fun, they said. Something real, they said. We need you, Rach said, I’ve got no choice now, Jase said. And no one’ll listen if you squeal, they all said.

Up and down, up and down, until suddenly, I’m the one in the world that makes sense, where I know these are promises that bring nightmares not dreams, where I know everything I’m doing is only so Kayleigh never has to. The world where she’ll walk to school every morning in skirts that fit her, where she’ll sleep, belly warm with dinner, every night, and where she won’t even have to look to find her own four-leaf clover, and maybe she’ll even find one for me too.

The world where I know I’m finally going to play to win, instead of lose.

Julie flashes into my mind as I straighten, frizzy hair like a halo around her head, an angel against the window.

‘…Carls?’

I blink away the smoke of Rach’s world as I look up at her, lamplight throwing twisted shadows all over her face, so warped I don’t recognise her anymore.

Dangling from her hand, a pair of bunny earrings, all twinkly between her stained, yellow fingers. ‘These are a good start, aren’t they? I bet she’ll love these.’

159

Part Three

Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1998