Midnight is a Lonely Place

XVII

‘Are you awake, Sue?’ Alison stared through the darkness of her friend’s bedroom towards the bed by the far wall.

‘Yes.’

They had been whispering and giggling for the last two hours. Twice Sue Farnborough’s mother, Cissy, had come in and shushed them wearily and told them to go to sleep; now she had gone to bed herself and the house was in darkness. For the last twenty minutes or so the silences between the two girls had been growing longer and longer.

‘Do you think I should tell them at home?’

‘About what happened at the grave?’

‘Of course, about what happened at the grave.’

‘No. They’ll interfere. Parents always do. Are you going to go back?’

Alison hesitated for only a second. ‘Of course I’m going to go back. I’m going to finish the excavation.’

‘By yourself?’

‘You could come with me.’ Alison sounded almost eager.

‘No way. That’s not my scene.’ Sue was adamant.

‘Oh, come on. You’d enjoy it. It’s fun.’

‘It doesn’t sound fun to me.’ Sue grinned maliciously in the darkness. ‘You were so scared you nearly wet yourself. You told me as much.’

‘I didn’t.’

‘You did. And why else did you come here? Running all the way through the woods instead of staying at home and waiting for your mum to get back from Colchester. You were really chicken.’

‘I wasn’t.’

‘You were. Are you going to school tomorrow?’

‘No. I’m still not feeling well.’

‘You’re skiving off, you mean. Well, I’m going, so shut up, Allie. I want to get some sleep.’ Sue reached in the darkness for the headphones of her Walkman and switched on the little machine beneath her pillow. The blast of Sisters of Mercy at full volume in her ears seemed an unlikely lullaby but within minutes she was asleep.

Across the room Alison lay awake, staring towards the curtained windows, listening to the rain. Beneath the borrowed duvet she had begun to shiver again.