I tussled with myself for nearly forty-eight hours before I finally gave in. There was no other way to explain why I was heading straight towards the Trinity Hall library. I’d been keeping an eye on Matthew Bassett’s Instagram account for weeks, and when I watched his story just now I immediately noticed the pocket mirror on the table in front of him. If he was at the library with Mabel, it most likely meant they were working on a project together, but I knew I would be unable to concentrate until I’d made sure this encounter went better than the last one.
It wasn’t long before I reached the main reading room. Wooden tables were arranged in front of the floor-to-ceiling shelves, a few small groups of students seated around them. I hadn’t even begun to look for Mabel before Matthew came walking towards me. Rucksack over his shoulder, phone in his hand, his eyes fixed vacantly ahead. He went straight past me without a glance.
I had to hold back a smile. It had been at least two weeks since I’d spoken to him, but during that time I’d brushed past him casually on a couple of occasions–just enough contact to make sure everyone was happy. Ashton, because he could sense I was feeling better, Mabel, because Matthew was leaving her alone, and me, because it was one less thing to worry about, at least.
I turned away, scanning for Mabel. She was just slipping between two bookshelves, a stack of books clutched to her chest. I knew I should walk away, but I followed her instead. She was smoothing the dog-eared corner of a page when I found her. Immediately, she looked up. A string of conflicting emotions chased across her face, then she shut the book and gave me a terse nod.
Just go, I thought to myself, but taking a step towards her. ‘I just saw your supervision buddy. How are things going with him?’
She frowned. ‘Better. He’s been remarkably chill ever since he almost killed me.’
‘Glad to hear it. And if you do have any problems–and I know you don’t want to hear this, because you can handle yourself just fine but… you’ve got my number.’
‘You know, I’m not sure I do, actually.’ She turned her back on me, sliding two books back onto the shelf with so much force that I could barely hear the next few words. ‘I messaged you.’
‘I know.’ Six days ago, to be precise. I’d been sitting on the cramped balcony of my flat, watching fresh pastries be delivered to the café below, when my phone lit up. Four little words:I am Heathcliff, right?
I’d got the reference toWuthering Heights, and I knew this was Mabel’s way of taking a tentative step towards me. It felt like she was nudging ajar a door that had been unlatched ever since our walk–or maybe even before then. All I had to do to open it was give it a gentle tug. Instead, I’d backed away.
‘You didn’t text back.’ She stroked the spines of the books in front of her, avoiding having to look at me. She tried so hard to seem unaffected by other people, yet I could tell she was hurt. She couldn’t know that what she saw as rejection was ultimately the kindest thing I could do for her. And now here I was, ruining it all again.
‘I did. Plenty of times. I just didn’t hit send.’ I gave a half-hearted smile. ‘And after what happened the other day, I wasn’t sure you were still talking to me.’
‘Yeah, I… I wasn’t sure either.’ She turned to face me, resting her back against the shelves. ‘That night, by the river… you were hesitant to call an ambulance.’
I could have denied it, but what for? Somehow she was able see straight through my lies, even the ones I’d told so often that I almost believed them myself. ‘I didn’t want her to die.’ That was part of the truth, the bit I liked the most. But Mabel, of course, heard the ugly part too.
‘Right, but you also didn’t want her telling anybody how she nearly ended up dead. How your friend drugged her up to the eyeballs with God knows what until she was so confused and distraught that she thought she had to do it.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘And you won’t explain it to me–we’re going in circles here,Blake.’ She smiled grimly. ‘I spoke to Paulina on the phone the next morning. She remembered being with Jack and Victor just beforehand, but when I tried to talk to her again today, it was like her memory had been completely… erased. She told the police she didn’t even know how she got to the bridge. Whatever you and your friends did, it was enough to intimidate her. She acted like she didn’t even know who I was.’ Her voice broke, as if she was admitting some kind of failure.
I wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. That it wasn’t an act: Paulina genuinely had forgotten everything, including Mabel. Instead, I shrugged. ‘Take it as a sign.’A sign you can’t save her.
She narrowed her eyes. ‘To give up? You really think that’s an option? I mean, can’t you understand why I’m so worried?’
‘You’re worried about Zoe, I know.’
‘And about you.’
‘About me?’
Mabel glanced at a girl who was standing nearby, examining the spines of the books. A moment later, she grabbed my forearm and pulled me down the walkway and around a corner. Only once we were at the end of a new row of shelving, directly by an almost full-length window, did she let me go. ‘It’s not just the outsiders you invite to your get-togethers who have a tendency to meet with little accidents.’ She paused, watching my face alertly.
Again, I didn’t deny it. By now I knew her too well to bother trying. Mabel wasn’t just clever, she was also remarkably intuitive. Whatever I said, she drew her own conclusions, and given everything she’d already discovered about the League of Starlings, I wasn’t surprised by what those were. If she hadn’t already been suspicious, the feathers in her bag were the final nail in the coffin. Lying wasn’t going to help.
I hadn’t told Ashton what she’d said to me. Or where she’d taken me when we last met. It was a place I hadn’t been since we arrived in Cambridge, although it was never far from my mind. In the end, all roads led back toher. To Heaven, whose memory had become our personal hell.
‘It’s the members themselves,’ Mabel added in a low voice, jolting me back into the moment. ‘And that means… I have to worry about you, too.’
The words stirred an odd feeling in my chest. It had been a long time since anybody had shown me genuine concern. With Ashton and the others, there was always a trace of irritation and impatience, because they knew ultimately that nothing bad was going to happen to me. They wouldn’t let it. And everybody else… well, I hadn’t given the people around me much reason to show me real concern in a very long time.
‘Why?’ I asked softly.
Mabel leant against the window. The light fringed her silhouette, but she was still staring at me intently. ‘Because I don’t want anything to happen to you. I wouldn’t want you to…disappear.’
My heart dropped, and so did my gaze. Straight to her mouth, which looked a little darker than before. I wondered what this shade of red was called.Saddest Truth, perhaps. At that moment it was the only thing running through my head, because this was mine: ‘You should be wishing I would.’ And, sadder still, but impossible to say:There’s nothing you can do to stop it anyway.
