Zoe didn’t respond until my third knock. Her soft ‘yes’ was almost swallowed up by the rushing of my pulse. I opened the door and saw her sitting in bed with her laptop and several books on our reading list.
Under normal circumstances I would have been relieved, because only a few days ago I’d discovered she had missed an essay deadline and had been given a few more days’ grace. She had refused my offer to help. She was refusing everything I offered her these days. I’d decided to give her some space, but I couldn’t afford to be tactful right now. Not when my palms were still chafed and sore from thirty minutes spent scrubbing the floorboards, having taken just as long to shoo several dozen birds out of my window. I supposed I should have been grateful they were still able to fly. My stomach turned at the thought of the blood I’d seen on the last starling’s feathers. Still, it was cold comfort. A dead starling couldn’t hurt me. A flock of live ones could.
‘Did you let anyone borrow my spare key?’ I blurted almost before I’d walked through the door.
Zoe wrinkled her brow. ‘Huh?’
‘Did you give Ashton my spare key?’ I didn’t have the energy to put it in a nicer or more neutral way. I knew it was them, I just had to know which one. Whoever it was, they’d obviously gained access somehow, and Zoe was the only person besides me and the college porters who had a key. My uninvited guest must have got it from her.
Or they bribed a porter. Or they’ve got other ways of getting past locks, like you do.
I narrowed my eyes and focused on Zoe, who was staring at me uncomprehendingly. ‘Why would he want that? It’s over there somewhere, I think, I’m not sure.’ She glanced at the desk, which was piled high as always with stacks of paper from seminars. Then she gazed at me. Her face seemed paler again, her eyes lustreless and dry. ‘What’s up, anyway? Is it… you’ve heard, haven’t you?’
I stopped, taken aback. ‘About Professor Edwards? Yeah, I—’ I broke off. This made no sense. Even if word had already got round about the professor’s death, it was unlikely to have reached Zoe. She’d been living in her own little bubble recently, and I could tell by looking at her that she hadn’t left the room all day. I knew Zoe. She never went anywhere without at least a slick of mascara. ‘Wait, how did you hear about it?’
‘I didn’t,’ she replied, sounding just as baffled. ‘I’ve never even heard that name before.’
‘Then what are you talking about?’
‘Cody rang, he said he’s been trying to get hold of you too. He’s Davie’s emergency contact.’ Her expression grew more serious, but even the concern in her eyes seemed washed-out. As if only shadows of emotion were left to her. The thought frightened me so much I could barely focus on what she was saying.
‘Emergency?’
Zoe nodded, pushing her laptop aside. It felt like an outworn reflex, as if she knew she ought to be with me for the next words–only, she couldn’t quite recall why that was the right thing to do. She stopped at the edge of the bed, just looking at me. ‘Davie’s in hospital.’
My stomach knotted again, this time so hard I tasted bile. A gag reflex in my throat, a stabbing pain in my knees. I staggered. ‘What, why?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You didn’t ask?’
‘I don’t think so? I’m not really sure, I’m so tired.’
The words were another kick to the gut. I felt like crumpling. I felt like shaking her. But there was something in her eyes that made it impossible to be angry.
Her face was utterly expressionless. She was the most vibrant, colourful and loyal person I knew, but right now I felt like I was looking at a stranger. The Zoe I knew would never just be sitting around like this while a friend was in hospital. She would be doing whatever she could to find out what had happened, she’d be camped out on the ward to make sure shewas there if Davie needed her. She would just… be there. But she wasn’t. She was sitting in front of me, but she wasn’t there.
Paulina’s words popped into my head.I feel so empty inside. Like I’ve already… disappeared.At that moment, I understood what she’d meant. There was a surge of emotion, pitch-black, blazing: fear and helplessness, hatred and rage. For whoever had done this to Zoe, however they’d done it. For whoever had put those birds in my room to threaten me. Without meaning to, they’d made it obvious that Professor Edwards’s death was no accident.
It took all the strength I had to push the thought of Ashton and his friends to the back of my mind. Before I did anything else, I had to find out what had happened to Davie.
‘Which hospital, which ward?’
Zoe blinked and reached for her phone to show me a text from Cody. She didn’t offer to come with me, and I didn’t ask. Right now, the person I wanted with me didn’t exist. The thought tasted bitter but true. Perhaps, in the end, the truth was always bitter. Maybe that was why I couldn’t bring myself to pick up when Blake called as I was leaving our staircase.
I couldn’t ask every question at once. I couldn’t cope with every answer at once. Perhaps I couldn’t cope with any answers at all, and I’d cracked under the pressure hours ago. Part of me was sure I must already be unconscious, because every action I took now felt somehow drained of conscious purpose.
All my movements felt like sleepwalking. Which made sense, frankly, because this whole situation… it was a nightmare. But this time, somehow, I knew there was no waking up. There was only all-consuming darkness, and with every step, every breath, every thought, I waded deeper in.
Chapter22
Mabel
Ihad this theory that hospitals triggered a different emotion for everybody, one conditioned by memory. The minute I stepped through the door, a memory and a feeling would leap out of some compartment in my mind, try as I might to hold it shut. Me at fifteen, walking down a white corridor that smelt of disinfectant, bandages and peppermint tea, past rows and rows of closed doors. My aunt at my side, her hand on my shoulder. She was trying to show support, but somehow it felt oppressive. Maybe because I was pretty sure I could read what she was thinking in her eyes. A sense of utter helplessness: that was how hospitals made me feel.
I braced myself against it as the lift came to a halt. There were plenty of reasons why somebody would need to go to hospital. Perhaps Davie had food poisoning, perhaps he’d broken his arm or got appendicitis. Perhaps, no,definitely, it was something harmless enough that he’d be out again soon. There was no reason to feel helpless: people came to hospitals because they could behelped, because they could be saved. Mum had been the tragic exception, not the rule.Definitely.
Cody was sitting in the waiting area, next to one of theunopenable windows, beyond which was the spreading smoke-blue dusk. Arms resting on his knees, face as white as the walls. A weak smile crossed his face when he saw me, and he stood up to give me a hug before sitting back down. ‘I tried to call you.’
