You notice different things when you get up early. I noticed how Des Butler locked his front door from the outside and double-checked that his sitting-room window was shut before getting into his van. I noticed that Mary Reynolds arrived at her shop at eight o’clock, even though she didn’t open its doors until nine, and I noticed that Patrick Smyth kissed Brigid on the cheek, at the door of the guesthouse, before getting into his car and driving to work. From my position on the bench in the communal garden I could easily view the morning activities on the main street. I enjoyed observing the world, just watching what everybody was doing, without being part of it. It felt nice to be on the outskirts, to be invisible. I wondered if spirits liked doing that. Being able to go through the world unwatched, nobody knowing they were there. Well, apart from a few. People like Ger. People like me.
I loved the garden. I’d decided it was probably one of my favourite spots in Avarna. I felt a sense of security here that I didn’t get anywhere else. And in the early mornings it seemed there was never anybody there. I could happily stay for ages. Relaxing. Watching.
The river glittered in the sunlight. It was beautiful from a distance but when I walked over and looked more closely I could see that the riverbed was a chaotic mixture of rock and stone, in grimy shades of brown, the outer beauty hiding a dark imperfect base. I picked up a flat stone and skimmed it into the water. It bounced along, sending soft waves rippling across the surface. I repeated this over and over again, then bent down and slid the tips of my fingers through the water. The riverbed seemed closer than it actually was. Just like Jane. Yesterday I had grown so sure that I could help her, but the more I thought about it the more I realized how little I knew. All morning I had been reanalyzing my dreams, reliving the attack and trying to identify any other signs she might have given me. The clues swirled around in my head, occasionally slotting together, but still not making an awful lot of sense.
Then I had an idea. I would write down what I knew so far. I took out my hardback notebook and flicked through the pages of lyrics until I found a blank space. I jotted down the few clues I had.
JANE
Attacked?
Murdered?
Connection with Beth? Murdered by the same person?
Leather bag
Bag contained: violin strings, purse, red lipstick and hat.
Sighted in: the forest
The Cupcake Café
When I wrote the clues down it didn’t look as if there were very many at all. Ger said that there might be a link between the places that Jane appeared, but I couldn’t think of any link between the dark forest and the cute Cupcake Café. I didn’t like how there was no single way to solve this. I was used to problems that had a clear formula, a right and wrong answer. I could work out most maths problems in seconds, but I couldn’t even seem to get started on this one. I had the bag, but it hadn’t really offered me any new information. I was pretty sure the bag was vintage, so that would suggest that Jane was murdered some time ago. But I couldn’t be certain. I don’t know why but I also thought that the same person who killed Beth might have killed Jane too. But I knew from my Internet research, and from talking to Colin, that nobody seemed to know who had killed Beth. Maybe her killer was still in Avarna. Still walking around. That thought scared me a little, but it also gave me hope. If the killer was still here, then I had a better chance of finding them. I wondered what Jane had been like. What she’d looked like, what she’d liked to do. I wondered if she’d ever been in this garden, ever sat on this bench.
The gate creaked, bringing my thoughts back to the present. Colin came into the garden, carrying a bin bag and a rubbish picker. He didn’t notice me sitting there. I watched as he picked up cigarette butts from the water’s edge.
‘Hi,’ I said.
He looked over, surprised to see me. ‘What are you doing up so early?’ he asked, coming over and sitting beside me on the bench.
‘Nothing really.’ I closed my notebook and dropped it into my lap. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I told Mary I’d pick up any rubbish lying around here. She wants it looking spotless for the fête on Sunday. Nick was meant to do it for her, but he’s at home sick. She was already stressing about the broken freezer in her shop so I decided to help her out.’
‘What’s wrong with Nick?’ It hurt to say his name, but I wanted to make sure he was OK.
‘Well, supposedly he has a migraine, but I bet he just fancied a lie-in. He was well able to go to the gig in Sligo with us last night. You should have come – it was deadly.’
‘I had something on… So you’re talking to Nick then? I was worried that maybe I’d caused trouble between you two.’ I hoped that what had happened didn’t come between them.
‘I’m talking to him, but he’s still pretty mad at me for almost breaking his nose with the door. He’ll get over it.’
‘Did he say anything about me?’ I was aware I sounded kind of desperate, but I wanted to know.
‘Em… no, not really.’ Colin looked down at his shoes. He was a terrible liar.
‘So he hates me?’
‘Maybe just give him some space for a while. I know he didn’t do anything to hurt you, but… what got into you anyway?’
‘I just… I don’t really want to talk about it.’
‘Ooh, your songs!’ said Colin, seeing ‘Jacki’s Lyrics’ printed on the front of my notebook. He picked it up. ‘Can I read them?’ he asked, having already opened it. To my horror he was looking at my most recent entry.
‘No, give it back.’ I couldn’t let him see it.
I went to grab the notebook, but Colin stood up and stepped backwards, pulling it out of my reach.
‘Colin, please just give it back to me.’
‘What is this?’
‘Nothing just -’
He scanned down the page, his eyes widening. I tried to wrestle it from him, but it was already too late.
‘Jacki, what’s going on? Why do your lyrics look like a detective’s notes?’
‘I can’t tell you. Just please give it back.’
‘Why can’t you tell me?’ said Colin. ‘We’re mates.’
He held the notebook far above my head. I could tell he wasn’t going to give up. This was it. He was going to think I had completely cracked. I took a deep breath.
‘Prepare to think I am absolutely insane,’ I said. ‘Basically… I was getting these really bad headaches, so I went to the doctor -’
‘Yeah, and I – your friend – went with you, remember?’
‘Course, sorry…’
‘And she said you had allergies.’
‘Well, actually… I didn’t really tell you the full story. She told me I might be dealing with something… something supernatural…’
‘What?’ He looked puzzled, his expression flickering between a smile and confusion.
‘… and she sent me to Ger Rapple, the healer. Do you know him?’
‘Yeah, well, I’ve heard of him. People come from all over the country to see him. He’s supposed to be very good. What did she mean by “something supernatural”?’
‘Well… I’m getting to that. At first I didn’t want to go and see Ger, because I didn’t believe in any of that stuff. But then something really weird happened to me in the bedroom at David’s. I felt like I was being attacked, and my body was on the bed, but my mind was somewhere else – like in the forest. After that I got really scared, so I went to see Ger and he told me that a girl called Jane is trying to contact me. She was murdered and her spirit needs my help to move on. I think she wants me to find out who murdered her, so that she can finally be at peace.’ I just blurted it out, aware of how it all sounded. ‘I know you believe in ghosts, but I don’t expect you to believe this. It’s crazy, but I swear it’s true.’
Colin read the page again. It felt like an eternity until he finally spoke.
‘I do believe it,’ he said.
‘Really?’ This totally took me by surprise.
‘Yes. I know you well enough by now, Jacki. If you say this is happening, then I believe you.’
‘Thanks. That means a lot.’
‘I’ll try to help you any way I can.’
I was almost crying with relief. Colin could sense this, so he tried to lighten the mood a bit.
‘I can be your sidekick!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’m cute, I’m funny… I’d be perfect for it! What do you think?’
‘I’m just glad you don’t think I’m mental,’ I said with a sniff. ‘But don’t tell anyone else, OK? Can we just keep this between us?’
‘I won’t tell anybody. I promise.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, wiping my eyes.
We sat in silence for a few moments. I had to stop crying in front of people. It was becoming too much of a habit.
‘Anyway… on a lighter note,’ said Colin. ‘Emily is having some people over to her house this evening. She lives a good bit outside the village, so I’ll get Mam to drop us if you want to come.’
‘Sorry, Colin… I can’t.’
‘Don’t be silly. You’re coming to Emily’s.’
‘No, I’m not. I can’t face Nick. Not yet. See, he isn’t just some guy… I’m crazy about him. I can’t stop thinking about him. It really hurts.’ I hated the thought of having to sit across from Nick while he ignored me or, even worse, tried to force an explanation out of me.
‘I didn’t realize you liked him that much,’ said Colin. ‘But don’t worry – he won’t be there. It’s a girls’ night in.’
‘But you’re going?’
‘Obviously,’ said Colin with a smile. ‘And so are you, even if I have to kidnap you and drag you there myself.’
‘I’m really sorry… but I don’t feel like going anywhere.’
‘But Emily’s dad is an expert on local history. He wrote a book about Avarna a few years ago. Maybe he’ll have some info on Jane. I’m sure he’ll be there tonight.’
I thought about it for a moment. To my surprise, my sense of duty to Jane was just enough to sway me.
‘Fine, I’ll go then,’ I said. ‘But only for a little while.’
I was actually a little excited that Emily’s dad was a historian. If there was someone called Jane from Avarna who had been murdered, then he’d surely know about it.
I went to meet Mum for lunch in the Cupcake Café. I was early so I thought I’d use a computer for a while. Mary was sitting at one of the tables with her eight-year-old daughter, Rosie, who I’d heard all about on one of my visits to the shop. I smiled at them as I walked towards the bathroom. I wanted to see if Jane would come back.
I stood behind the door, whispering her name over and over. Deep down I knew she wasn’t coming back. Not yet anyway. The eerie sensation of the other day just wasn’t there any more. I hated the thought of her being stuck in that in-between stage, slipping back and forth between this world and whatever was waiting for her in the next. I wanted her to come back. I wanted to tell her that I was going to find out who’d murdered her, no matter how long it took. I tried to imagine her, tried to remember even the slightest detail from our encounter. She had black hair – that’s all I knew.
I eventually gave up, but there was still no sign of Mum so I logged on to a computer. I searched jane murdered avarna and all its variations but found nothing. I wasn’t too disappointed though. I was hopeful that Emily’s dad would be able to give me some information, or at least point me in the right direction.
So I just messed around for a bit. Emily had uploaded pictures from the gig in Sligo the night before. I clicked through the photos, smiling at the ones of Emily and the lads pulling stupid faces. But I didn’t smile at the next one. I recognized his red hoodie immediately. There he was… eating the face off some blonde girl. She was wearing a slutty belly-top and his hands were all over her.
I felt sick… so confused, jealous, angry. I logged off and just needed to get out of there.
‘Ali, if you see my mum would you mind telling her that I had to leave early? Thanks,’ I said, before hurrying out of the café, slamming the door behind me. I was definitely forgetting about him now.
As I hurried home, I felt angry and upset, but at the same time I felt a strange sense of relief. Nick had found someone else. I could forget about him now. I could stop thinking about him all the time. I could stop obsessing about how I was going to explain myself to him. This was exactly what I needed. I didn’t need anything distracting me from my duty to Jane. Being crazy about someone was a distraction. A horrible, unhealthy distraction. I was done with boys. It always, always ended badly. I didn’t need them in my life. Or else, I’d keep them there, but never get attached. I’d be like Hannah: always the dumper, never the dumpee. Always the one to turn them down, never the one sitting staring at the phone, waiting for them to text. I’d be the one who’d forget to text them back. I’d be the one who forgot their birthdays, forgot their numbers, forgot their names even. I picked a yellow flower from the ditch and ripped off the petals one by one. I don’t love him. I don’t love him. I don’t love him. Unfortunately, with every petal plucked, my initial rage started to dwindle. And it was just replaced with hurt. But the thought of Nick with that girl was enough to at least dull my obsession. Although I knew I wasn’t going to be able to forget about him, I was at least going to try.