Kiss Her Goodbye: The most addictive thriller you'll read this year Read online

  ‘Watch yourself,’ he says as a blue car reverses around the corner.

  I raise an eyebrow. ‘Hands,’ I laugh, but he coughs and walks down the hill, past the gate, where I watched the police cars yesterday. The closer we get to the river, the stronger the smell of the weeds becomes and I can’t wait to get there.

  We carry on through the industrial estate, until the sculpture of the fish by the weir comes into sight. I run my fingers along its wooden scales and picture Kirsten sitting on the bench: blonde curls over her white smooth neck, not muddy and rotten. I’m glad that I’m not alone.

  ‘Which way? That way or this way?’

  ‘That way,’ I say, and point towards the sewerage pipe.

  We walk a little further along the path and it’s quiet, no people at all, just the splash of our feet through puddles full of rotten leaves. After a while, he looks thoughtful, stops and turns to face me.

  ‘I’ve got ulterior motives for wanting you to come with me. I might as well admit it.’

  I pout. ‘Oh, yeah?’

  He hesitates, before he takes out a black canvas pouch from his pocket.

  ‘Camera. It’s for your birthday really, but I wanted to check you liked it first.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘This is mine. I’ll get you one of your own if you like it. Expensive, but that’s our secret.’ He taps his nose and looks over his shoulder. The sound of the water and the word ‘secret’ make my chest tighten, but he continues to talk. ‘OK, I’ll admit it.’ He puts his hands up. ‘I’m buttering you up. I want us to get along. We didn’t start out great, did we?’

  ‘I love it,’ I say as he passes it to me. I’m not lying.

  ‘I’ll teach you, if you like? Reckon you could be even better than your dad was.’

  ‘Is.’

  ‘Quite. Well, your mum mentioned that you were interested in the old photography game.’

  This was Dad’s place and he’d bring me here with him while he photographed the river. I sat with him in the cold and damp for hours after the baby died and taught myself to be so still that sometimes he’d forget I was there. He took me down to the river the day after it happened and I showed how quiet I could be. He took the best photograph that he’s ever taken that day; the one that got him all the work later on: the kingfisher picture that’s in our living room. His new wife works at the magazine that published it and so, when I look at it, I can’t help loving and hating it, both at the same time.

  ‘Go on then, give it a whirl.’

  I lift the camera and focus on a pylon standing next to the path. The wires thread through the sky and the rusty barbed wires twist around the ‘Warning, danger of death’ sign. I press the shutter release, but nothing happens.

  ‘Come here.’

  He moves behind me and puts his hand underneath the camera. We stay there with his hand resting on mine and look out over the river. When I turn around we are so close that I can see all the different coloured hairs in his beard. As he looks into my eyes something flickers inside him. It’s the same look that Stefan used to give me when he took me to the warehouse and I know that I can make Mum think that he wants me. Then, once he’s gone, Dad can come back where he belongs.

  ‘Choose something.’

  I point the camera at the pylon and the grey mottled sky as his coat touches the back of my thigh.

  ‘Now press.’

  His breath moves through my hair and into my ear. I breathe in and sigh like it’s wonderful.

  ‘What would Mum say if she could see us now?’

  He laughs and steps away from me. We walk down the lane until we’re at the sewerage pipe and I half expect to see Kirsten in the water, but there are only rocks and tangled weeds. The fallen tree branch that she was underneath has gone and it looks like they’ve cleared all the rubbish off the bank. There’s some blue and white police tape and a bunch of flowers tied to the tree. I stand as still as the rocks and stare at the water while the plastic tape flickers and rasps on the breeze.

  I look him in the eye. ‘I like it here. It’s the kind of place that you wouldn’t mind staying forever, don’t you think?’

  ‘You’ve got to love a sewerage pipe.’ He laughs and holds up his hands. ‘Sorry, that’s the job talking.’

  In the distance, the faint hum of cars can be heard from the motorway. I bend down to take a picture of the sewerage pipe, but he stands in the way.

  ‘You’re in the picture,’ I say, trying not to sound annoyed. ‘Just move over a bit.’ But he keeps being stupid. He grins, while the black branches stick up out of the mud like charred skeletons behind him. The laugh lines open up across his face and I take pictures of the sewerage pipe instead of him.

  As I put down the camera I smile.

  ‘I’ve got some good ones there.’

  ‘OK, David Bailey, let me put it away now. I’ll give you these photographs when I get the film done.’

  ‘This must be where the body was,’ I tell him.

  Mike glances over his shoulder and smooths his fingers over his beard.

  ‘Kristen, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Kirsten.’

  He frowns, ‘Horrible.’

  There is a grinding of stones and splash of water as a cyclist appears, closely followed by another.

  ‘Get in,’ Mike says as he pulls me back to the side of the path. Grit and stones spray from the tyres as he presses his hand down on my shoulder and my feet sink into the thick mud. The cyclist nods in thanks before he’s gone and we are alone again.

  ‘Busy here today,’ he says.

  ‘They’re all coming for a nosy.’

  ‘Ghouls.’

  I reach out and touch the underneath of his beard with my fingers. He jolts his head back and I hold up a pink petal.

  ‘Stuck to you,’ I say as it flutters to the floor like confetti.

  He looks uncomfortable and I smile at him.

  ‘Come on, let’s go further up,’ he says.

  ‘Mum said you might have done it cos you’re always down here. She makes me laugh sometimes.’

  He walks on without answering, but his eye twitches as though he’s annoyed. The sun shines on the water and the leaves behind light up acid green as I walk past the dark mouth of the pipe. I know that she’s in there, crouched in the darkness, watching. They’ve taken the body away, but she’ll never go and the cold wind makes every little hair stand up on the back of my neck. Something changed here that day and I’m glad he’s with me.

  ‘How old are you going to be on your birthday?’ he asks, when I’ve caught him up.

  ‘Seventeen.’

  A drop of water falls onto my cheek and we both look up to the sky.

  ‘You look older.’ He points up. ‘Rain’s coming.’ He sniffs. ‘Always raining here. Not like Somerset.’

  I glance over my shoulder. ‘I wouldn’t like your job. Bet you’ve had your hands in all sorts.’

  I think about the body in the river and Mike’s hands in the dark water. ‘Bits of dead bodies and everything.’

  ‘How horrible.’ He stares at me for a moment. ‘Anyway, I very much doubt it. Seen a few rats and that’s it.’

  ‘Plenty of rats around here.’ I smile.

  ‘River’s full of them.’

  ‘Cos it stinks.’

  ‘Not for long, thanks to Heseltine.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Two years it’s taken them. He’s not even Environment Secretary any more.’

  I stare at him blankly.

  ‘The Mersey Basin Campaign? You’re as bad as your mum.’

  I frown. All I remember about Heseltine is that Leila’s always moaning about him when she’s with her new CND friends.

  ‘Forget it. It’s a clean-up. Seventy miles of river getting sorted. The only downside for me is the shelter.’ He points up as it starts to rain. ‘Or the lack of it.’

  I gesture at the warehouses through the trees.

  ‘That one with the green roof is abandoned.
The door’s always unlocked. Just push it open and go in.’

  ‘And get arrested for trespassing?’

  I want him to start using the warehouse, because I’m going to say he takes me there so we can be alone. It’s all part of the big plan. I’ve been thinking about it while I’ve been awake at night, but plans don’t always work out the way you want them to. Nothing ever does.

  ‘It’s empty.’

  ‘I could do with a place to dump some bits and pieces.’ He looks over towards the warehouse. ‘Not sure you should be messing about in places like that though. It isn’t safe.’

  I lick my lips and smile. ‘I used to go there with Stefan to…’ I pause ‘…you know…’ I wink.

  He blushes and I’m glad that I’ve taken my time on Stefan now, because Mum’s right: men are all the same. He puts his head down and stares at the sandy path.

  I crinkle my nose. ‘I’m only messing.’

  ‘I’m taking your mum to the pictures this week. Desperately Seeking Susan is on. Come too if you’d like.’

  ‘I’ll leave it, thanks.’

  ‘You’ll be fine if we end up seeing an 18. You look…’ he pauses ‘…older.’

  ‘So you keep saying.’

  He coughs, ‘We could even try Manchester another time? The new Arthouse cinema opens next month. What do you reckon?’

  ‘She’s thick as a brick so you’re best sticking to comedies.’

  He flips his head back as he laughs and shows the silver fillings in his teeth. ‘That’s mean.’

  I step sideways with a smile. ‘True, though. Even Bergerac confuses her, so...’

  He laughs. ‘Ok fair point.’ He pauses. ‘Think you would like a camera, though?’

  I smile. ‘Yeah, I would. Do you like me?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Well, do you?’

  He smiles as if he’s worried. ‘Of course. Reckon we’re gonna be OK.’

  He looks awkward and I almost feel sorry for him, but he shouldn’t have tried to take Dad’s place. We’re never going to be friends. I can pretend though. It’s easy.

  ‘Is it really seventy miles long, this river?’ I ask him.

  His shoulders relax. ‘Yep. It goes all the way to the Irish Sea.’

  The path opens up and the traffic gets louder as we move away from the river. As it curves towards the houses I sense someone behind me and I turn around, but the path is empty. I know that she’s out there though, because I can feel her watching. She’s hiding amongst the trees or in the mud by the reeds and it won’t be long before I see her again.

  *

  ‘Hayley, you’ll be late for college!’ Mum shouts up for the third time as I pull off the covers and step onto the cold wooden floor. When I hear Mike go into the bathroom, I push open the door. He’s got his back to me as he stands in front of the toilet. His blue-striped pyjama bottoms sag down and I look over his naked back to memorise his body. I need to know what it looks like if anyone is going to believe me. There isn’t any fat on him and his muscles contort as he twists around.

  ‘Oh!’ he says, and starts to piss. It sounds like someone emptying a bucket into a deep hole. A drop of yellow urine falls onto the white lino by his foot as I lean against the door frame.

  ‘Can’t stop it once it starts,’ he says. He turns back around and I stay there looking at him as he clutches himself. ‘Shut the door, will you?’

  I look at the bones going down his back like little bumps and the way that his shoulders are wide and strong. I count three freckles in a triangle on his right shoulder before he shudders and puts himself back in his pyjamas.

  ‘Lock the door next time,’ I say, before I walk out.

  When I go back to my bedroom, I can still smell him and I know that this is what Mum wants for me: a wedding ring on my finger and a shared bank account. She’s been training me up for it my whole life and it doesn’t matter what I want because she never hears me. I’d rather be on my own forever than live a life like hers. The truth’s pushed under the water until it is only a ripple and it’s been so long since we were happy. When Dad took me to the fairground that day, I thought we were going to be together forever, but I was wrong. It was all a lie.

  *

  I keep up the act with Mike as the days go by. I encourage his jokes and watch Mum’s eyes glance over at us as we laugh together. I’ve not seen much of Leila though. She never waits outside after college for me any more and I don’t wait for her either. Has it been a week since I phoned her? Maybe it’s longer, I don’t know; I’ve had other things on my mind. I’ve spent my time going to sit on the bench by the river to be near Kirsten, because nothing else matters when I’m there. I listen to our New Order album at home and wait to catch glimpses of her in the darkness. Some days I just walk and walk and walk until I don’t know where I am. I miss the days I used to see her sitting by the river. I rebuilt Dad’s birdwatching hide near to Kirsten’s bench so that I could watch her. One day she came and never knew that I was there, but other days I waited and waited for nothing. I stayed there until it was nearly dark once and in the end I gave up on it.

  In the college common room, I sit next to Leila and take out my book as she chats to Barbara as though they’re best friends. The words are just black marks on the yellowing pages and I don’t read a thing. Every time Barbara laughs, she touches Leila’s jumper with her hand as though she belongs to her now.

  ‘What’s funny?’ I ask with a forced smile and Barbara rolls her eyes.

  ‘Just something that happened in The Venue the other night,’ Leila replies.

  ‘You didn’t mention it.’

  ‘Oh, it was a bit last minute. Just a few of us went.’ Leila turns to Barbara and grins. ‘That bloke on the dance floor.’

  Barbara snorts. ‘I can’t believe you did it. He was in Isadora’s last week – I’m telling you it’s him. Same stupid tash.’

  I wait for them to tell me what happened, but they chat as though I’m not there.

  ‘How did you get in?’ I ask, but Barbara ignores me.

  ‘Babs got us some blank NUSs,’ Leila says.

  ‘They’re all gone now. I only had a few,’ Barbara says, with a shrug.

  Pubs and nightclubs don’t interest me. I don’t want to stand around with strangers pretending to enjoy myself. I turn the pages of the book, while my thoughts take me to the sound of the weir by the swaying bulrushes. This is how things are for me now: I’m here, but somewhere else.

  Someone pushes past me and when I look up it’s Maxine Turner and her best friend, Beth. They make their way over to a group of girls on the far side of the common room and I think about the day that Maxine tipped out Kirsten’s bag to humiliate her for fun. I remember the way that Kirsten turned to me with pleading eyes, as though I could help her, but I just stood and watched like everyone else. As Maxine admires her newly manicured nails, I wonder if she ever thinks about that day too, but I doubt it. She isn’t the type to think at all. Her black hair hangs down her back in dark ripples and I picture the sewerage pipe where bulrushes stand upright on bony stems. It should have been her on that muddy bank instead of Kirsten.

  I can’t stand being near her. I close the book and walk out onto the corridor, letting the door crash behind me. I’d like to keep walking until they are all far behind me, but I go and stand outside by the front entrance. As the sound of voices comes through the open window, I lean against the brick wall and wonder if Leila has even noticed that I’ve gone. I wait for her to follow, but as the minutes go by and people stream past me she isn’t one of them.

  I try to think of things to make me upset in case she comes out: Dad leaving, the look in Kirsten’s eyes and the fat arms of the new baby, but I can’t cry; I never can. I wait until the corridors have emptied before going back inside. The receptionist taps her watch as I go past, but I pretend not to notice.

  Dr Tibbs, the principal, comes up behind me. ‘Hayley, can I borrow you for a second?’

  I follow her
into her office and she leans on the edge of her desk and doesn’t ask me to sit down. She’s dressed in a red suit jacket with matching lipstick and I notice her glance down at the cropped top under my fitted black jacket.

  ‘Can you stay in college until three today?’

  ‘Why?’

  She looks out of the window.

  ‘The police want to speak to you about Kirsten Green.’

  ‘Why me?’

  She raises an eyebrow. ‘They want to speak to all her friends and teachers…’ she taps her pen on her chin ‘…so just make sure you’re around for the next few hours.’

  ‘I wasn’t her friend or her teacher.’

  ‘You used to get the bus home with her, though. I remember you telling me about it after she went missing. Look, I know it’s upsetting. It’s upsetting for us all.’

  ‘We just lived near each other. We weren’t friends.’

  She nods. ‘They’ll need a word anyway. I’ll be here afterwards if you want to talk.’

  ‘Right.’

  I leave her office and plan to go straight home. There’s no way I’m talking to the police about Kirsten Green and I can’t believe she remembers what I said about getting the bus together. I hardly mentioned it.

  When I get to the main entrance, the detective I saw by the river is coming in through the double doors. I turn to face the notice board and stare at the swirling reds and yellows in a poster on the board that says, ‘AIDS. Spread Facts Not Fear!’ hoping that she walks past. My shoulders start to tense and I’m worried she’ll notice. I think about my favourite New Order songs and repeat the names of the band, over and over in my head, to help me relax: Bernard Sumner, Stephen Morris, Gillian Gilbert and Peter Hook. Bernard Sumner, Stephen Morris, Gillian Gilbert and Peter Hook. Bernard Sumner, Stephen Morris, Gillian Gilbert and Peter Hook. My chest is tight and I can hardly breathe, because I know that if she sees me, she’ll remember me from the river.

  6

  DS Beverley Samuels

  As we walk towards the college where Kirsten Green was a pupil Nick talks about the football, as though he’s got no interest in the case. It’s clear that he thinks we’re wasting our time here.