Page 24 of The Serial Killer’s Sister (The Serial Killer’s Daughter #3)

FINLEY HALL CHILDREN’S HOME

Thumping music greets the girls as they round the corner and they look at each other, eyes wide, then link arms and giggle.

Anna has managed to get them invites to what is supposedly going to be the coolest party in Sutton Coldfield by sucking up to Mason Lamar from her English Lit class – offering to do his essay on An Inspector Calls in return for getting them in.

The kids from ‘the scabby home’ weren’t high on the list of desirables, and certainly very few had ever been invited to social gatherings outside of school time.

Mason’s status, having been put back a year twice , offered their best chance yet at showing the rest of their peers that they were just normal teenagers, wanting the same things as everyone else – to hang out, get drunk and dance.

This opportunity had to be snapped up. Anna and Kirsty knew going to a party where there was alcohol was bad enough given they’d only just turned fifteen, but being out after their curfew made it doubly bad and was punishable by a Frank beating, so they had to make the experience a worthwhile one.

‘You did hide our backpacks well, didn’t you?’

‘Kirsty, stop worrying – you watched me stuff them between the rocks.’

‘Yeah, sorry. Hope it doesn’t rain.’

‘If it does, it does. Come on, let’s just enjoy the moment.’ Anna begins to run towards the house, dragging Kirsty behind her. ‘You do want to go, don’t you?’

‘Course,’ she says. Her usual enthusiasm is lacking, though, and Anna turns towards her friend. ‘Something’s wrong. What’s the matter?’

Kirsty pauses, her eyes warily looking towards the house, then back to Anna. She sucks in a breath. ‘I know how I come across … confident, you know?’

‘But?’

She shrugs. ‘I’m nervous, okay?’

Anna laughs. ‘What? The Kirsty Briggs I know is never nervous. Look, they won’t catch us, all right? We’ve set it all up and Maggie and Paula have our backs. It’s all good.’

‘It’s not that.’

Anna frowns at her friend. ‘Well, what, then?’

‘Chris is going to be there.’

‘Ahhh, gotcha! The gorgeous Chris Connell.’ Anna nudges Kirsty with her elbow. ‘Well then, we will have to make sure he notices you.’

Kirsty blushes. ‘Great, now I’m even more nervous.’

‘Maybe you should’ve worn this outfit instead of letting me borrow it!’ Anna looks down at her cropped top and plaid mini skirt with slits on the side.

Kirsty sighs. ‘Nah. My clothes always seem to look better on you.’

‘You do look cute in that outfit. He’d be mad not to want to chat to you.’ Anna smiles at Kirsty. ‘I’ll sort it.’

‘Don’t make me look a twat, please. I don’t want him to know I fancy him.’

‘That kinda defeats the object.’ Anna laughs again but agrees to be subtle.

The house – a large, detached one in its own grounds – is rammed when they get inside.

Nearly all the kids are their age or younger, apart from Mason and his mate from year eleven – and almost all are already well on their way to being drunk.

Anna and Kirsty give each other an excited look and head to the table, where every drink imaginable seems to be lined up.

Kirsty pours a vodka – half a tall glass – and tops it up with orange juice. Anna sniffs it and recoils.

‘Jesus, that stinks.’

‘After one, you won’t notice,’ Kirsty says.

Anna pours some into a transparent plastic cup and necks it back. She gags, covers her mouth and grabs lemonade, swigging it straight from the bottle. Kirsty doubles over, laughing.

‘You’re not meant to drink it neat, you loon.’

‘Maybe I should stick to alcopops,’ Anna says, recovering and swiping her hand across her mouth. ‘That was vile.’

‘Don’t show us up – we should at least try and make it look like we fit in with this lot.’

‘Good point.’ Anna glances around at the others. Thankfully, no one seems to have witnessed her gagging episode.

After a few more, the girls relax and begin to wander through the ground floor of the house, Anna desperately trying to find Chris. Spotting him in the kitchen with a group of lads, she leaves Kirsty’s side and saunters over to them.

‘Here,’ one of the lads says, ‘if it’s not a kid from the scabby home.’ They burst out laughing and Anna turns to see Kirsty disappearing out the back door.

‘You’re such dicks,’ she says, sticking her middle finger up to Chris, then turning on her heel and heading after her. Kirsty would be mad at her for interfering – she’d probably want to leave now, ruin the night. As Anna rushes out through the kitchen, she bangs into someone.

‘Hey, you’re not leaving a perfectly good party, are you?

’ The boy puts a hand on Anna’s arm, squeezing it.

His eyes bore into hers and she feels her legs turn to jelly.

He has brown, wavy hair that’s longer than most boys wear theirs and he has a leather jacket on, the smell of patchouli wafting from it.

She opens her mouth, but no words come. ‘Drink?’ he says.

Anna nods without thinking. He takes her hand and leads her back into the room with the table of drinks.

She watches in awe as he pours from a bottle; she doesn’t even know what he’s giving her. She doesn’t recognise him from school.

‘What’s your name?’ she asks.

‘Neil. What’s yours?’

‘Anna.’

Someone turns the music up and the rest of Neil’s words are drowned out. She nods anyway, hoping she’s not coming across as stupid. Anna allows him to guide her towards the stairs, casting her eyes around to see if she can spot Kirsty. There’s no sign of her; she mustn’t have come back inside.

‘Look, Neil, I have to find Kirsty.’ She points to the kitchen. ‘She went outside.’

‘She your sister?’

‘No, my best friend.’

‘Sure, I’ll help you find her.’

The din of the music is muffled in the garden.

It’s huge – not as big as Finley Hall’s, but big for a house.

Whoever lives here must be rich, Anna supposes.

She calls for Kirsty, then so does Neil.

When there’s no response, Anna says she must be either back in the house, or she’s left.

Her chest tightens. Surely she wouldn’t dump Anna and sneak back to Finley without her?

They came together, they would leave together – that was the deal.

Her cheeks grow hot, her breathing shallow.

‘She can’t have gone. I’m going back inside.’

His hand grips her wrist, yanks her back.

‘Leave her. Stay with me.’ He pulls Anna towards him, the heat of his body pressing against hers.

Her back hits against a wall and in a split second, his lips are on her, kissing her while his hand touches her chest, then grapples with her top.

He shoves it roughly up and grabs her breast, squeezing hard.

‘Don’t … please, don’t,’ Anna says when his mouth leaves hers. Her words are quiet, coming out in a whisper. He looks down, one hand reaching for his zip. And in that moment, the full horror of what might be about to happen dawns on her. ‘Enough,’ she shouts. ‘I said no!’

‘Get your fucking hands off of her.’

Anna feels a rush of relief hearing Kirsty’s voice.

She didn’t leave her after all. The weight of Neil’s body disappears, and suddenly she’s free.

Anna regrets the drink, regrets the party, regrets coming outside with a boy she doesn’t even know.

She just wants to go back to the home with Kirsty and forget this night.

‘Thanks, Kirst. Thank God you’re still here.’

While her attention is on Kirsty, Anna doesn’t spot a group of boys pouring out the back door, heading towards them.

And Kirsty doesn’t see them until they’re on her.

Anna lets out a scream, but a hand clamps over her mouth, and other hands push her to the ground.

Damp grass presses against her face as she’s shoved belly down against it.

She hears the usual taunts: ‘you’re lower than low,’ and ‘no parents, no future,’ and tries to close her mind to them.

Anna bucks and kicks out as much as she can, but she’s no match for the two boys holding her down.

‘Prick tease.’ She hears one of them snarl. She forces her head up and sees Kirsty in a similar position on the ground and Neil, the boy that was with Anna, is now on top of her friend. Shit. Where is everyone else? Why aren’t people coming to help them?

They are going to be raped.

The inevitability of it speeds her heart up so fast that it feels like it might burst out through her chest. But the thought also gives her a surge of strength.

With a roar, she breaks one arm free and pushes her fingertips into the eye sockets of one of her attackers.

He gives a roar and falls away from her.

The moment gives her enough time to propel herself up, slamming her forehead into the other one’s nose, blood spurting from it like tomato ketchup erupting from a bottle.

His hands fly to his face, but he manages to push her back down and straddle her.

She groans with the effort of pushing him off.

Time seems to stand still; everything happens in slow motion.

She hears a low wailing sound and turns to look at her friend.

Kirsty’s thrashing beneath a body, then she stills; her sobs quieten.

Is she dead? The thought gives her a second wind and she pushes with all her strength against the bleeding boy and he slumps to the ground.

She’s free to go to Kirsty. Anna grasps a chunk of Neil’s hair, and she yanks at it hard – a clump remains in her gripped fingers as she stands and pulls her leg back.

With a swift kick, her foot makes contact with the side of his head, and he goes down, a dull thud sounding as his body slams against the ground.

Anna grabs Kirsty, pulls her up off the floor and they run, Anna screaming all the way to the back door of the house.

‘Those boys tried to rape us,’ Anna shouts.

Blank faces look at them, while others don’t even acknowledge her words.

Kirsty takes Anna’s arm as they both push through the crowded rooms and reach the front door.

Outside, in the cold air once more, they begin to run.

They’re halfway to where they hid their backpacks before they dare slow down.

‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,’ Anna says, bent over, her breathing rapid.

‘They’re the ones who should be sorry.’ Kirsty’s voice is shaky, her face tear-stained.

By the time they’ve retrieved their backpacks and walked back to Finley Hall, it’s past midnight and they’ve barely spoken – both deep in their own thoughts.

To sneak back in, they have to climb the wall to the side of the building.

It takes them twice as long to break in as it did to escape, but once they’re inside the relief is evident on both of their faces.

Careful to avoid Frank’s quarters, they go the long way around to reach their floor.

Just as their dorm is in sight and they think they’ve got away with their misdemeanour, a bright light blinds them.

‘And what time do you call this?’

They freeze, Anna shielding her eyes from the glare, Kirsty hanging her head. Then Anna realises it’s a child’s voice, not an adult’s.

‘Henry?’ she whispers. ‘Is that you?’ She takes a few tentative steps towards the wavering beam, but stops when there’s movement and what sounds like a scuffle. Is Henry fighting with someone? As she goes to walk forward again, Kirsty puts her arm in front, stopping her.

‘It’s okay,’ she says. ‘It’s just Dean.’ Her voice is monotone.

The light extinguishes and at the end of the corridor the figure steps out of the shadows.

Anna lets out a relieved stream of breath – if it’d been Henry they’d have been in more trouble.

He might not have snitched on them for sneaking out and breaking curfew – but he would’ve held it over their heads and blackmailed them about it, making their lives hell for weeks to come.

‘Thought I heard someone creeping around. Found Henry lurking, but lucky for you, I saw him off before he realised it was you two.’

Anna’s muscles tense. So Dean had been scuffling with her brother.

She wonders what he means by ‘saw him off’, though.

She doubted Henry would be scared away by Dean – they’re both thirteen and Henry has caught up with him height-wise now.

Anna does a three hundred and sixty-degree turn, peering into the shadows.

She would bet her life he’s still around somewhere.

Dean approaches, and as he reaches them, his face pales. ‘Shit, Kirsty – what the hell happened to you?’

‘Nothing. Don’t worry about it,’ she says.

She’s first to the dorm door and goes in without saying anything else.

Dean’s brown eyes are filled with concern and Anna’s stomach twists.

Is it jealousy she’s feeling? Where Henry only wishes her harm, Kirsty’s brother actually seems bothered that his sister is in pain.

‘It was a party,’ Anna says, trying to keep her voice low. ‘It got a bit … messy. We’ll fill you in tomorrow.’

‘It is tomorrow,’ he says. ‘But sure.’ Then he looks her up and down. ‘Anna – you don’t look so hot either. Has something happened?’

‘Later, Dean. I promise.’

Anna slips into the dorm and closes the door.

She rests her head against it and listens to Dean’s retreating footsteps.

Then she thinks she hears another set running along outside.

She turns to tell Kirsty that she fears Henry heard everything, but in the dim glow offered by the outside security light shining through the thin curtain, all she sees is a lump underneath the blankets.

With feather-light steps, Anna goes to her own bed and climbs in, fully clothed, exhaustion making her limbs heavy.

What a terrible party that turned out to be.

For the moment, the shock of the event numbs Anna and although her skin crawls with the echo of the boys’ hands on her, her main thought as she nestles in her bed is Henry.

She wishes her brother was more like Kirsty’s – but of course, he had been once.

They’d been close, always there for each other. Whose fault was it that it had changed?

Hers. She was the one who’d made things different between them. She’d put her friendship before him; she’d neglected her little brother in favour of making her own life easier.

Maybe there was a way to level with Henry. Explain how she’d had to put her friends first. He needed to understand that it wasn’t because she loved him any less. She’d try and talk with him tomorrow. It was time to put things right.