it could manage. Tinker wouldn’t have any entourage or security – she was famous, but still just a young woman who lived with her mum.
That oh-so-familiar pink hair emerged from the front passenger seat, and she waved goodbye to whoever had driven her before looking around for the right way to go. A couple of people spotted and immediately delayed her, asking for selfies.
Across the junction, the BMW began to move.
The gravity of it all left Kat’s feet rooted to the spot for a moment. There was nothing she could do to stop it. She was powerless.
Passing Tinker and her small gathering of fans was a girl wearing a costume Kat recognised. A flowing white high-necked dress, almost like a Victorian nightie, worn with black biker boots, spiked gauntlets, and a perm that would make the ’90s blush. Esme from Doctor Backwash, the girl cut out of the world.
Kat wouldn’t let it happen to her. One way or another she would fight for this life that used to be hers.
The BMW joined the traffic heading towards the convention centre. There wasn’t any time to think – Kat leaped into the road and ran.
The drivers couldn’t see her, wouldn’t do anything to avoid her. She gritted her teeth as she darted out of the path of one car, only to jump back as an overtaking moped almost mowed her down. Would it pass right through her if she was hit? It wasn’t the time to find out.
Timing a gap between two cars coming the other way, she spotted the BMW cross the junction. It slowed down to draw up beside Tinker and the fans around her.
‘Look out!’ Kat screamed.
Nobody heard her – nobody could fucking hear her – and she sprinted for Tinker as the BMW stopped, back doors throwing open.
It happened in seconds. Two boys with their faces covered – Luke and Justin, it had to be – grabbed Tinker from behind and covered her mouth to keep her from screaming. Everybody around them stood frozen as she was dragged to the back door of the car.
Only Kat moved, flinging herself headlong and landing inside the other girl’s body as the door slammed shut.
33
And My Axe!
Wesley ran away from the others without saying a word, under the railway bridge and towards home. It hadn’t been tiredness calling him back; it had been Kat. She must have been at the flat, must have inhabited him, and she wouldn’t do that unless it was urgent.
There was nobody outside the flats, only Jordan’s car still parked by the entrance. Wesley ran upstairs and found that the front door was already open.
‘Hello?’
Inside, Jordan had packed all of his still-damp clothes into carrier bags. He was leaning over the coffee table, and jumped at the sound, relaxing when he saw who it was. In one hand he held a pen for the note he’d been writing, in the other a small stack of bank notes.
‘What’s that for?’ said Wesley.
‘It’s everything I saved when I was working in Australia. It won’t cover the BMW, but . . .’ He put the money neatly on the table. ‘At least I won’t leave you empty-handed this time.’
‘You can’t just go,’ said Wesley. ‘You wanted to come home.’
‘I did.’ Jordan signed off the note with an illegible squiggle. ‘But maybe this is the best thing I can do for you. To make up for everything.’
For years, Wesley had wanted his brother to show him kindness. Now he was, Wesley wanted him to take it back.
There wasn’t time for this. He pushed deeper into the flat. ‘Was anybody else here?’
‘You mean Mum or Dave? No, I made sure.’
Wesley rushed through to his bedroom. This was where he had felt light-headed. It had to have been where she had stepped inside his body. What had she been trying to tell him? He looked around the room but there was no sign, no telltale clue. It was only when he turned back towards the door that he saw it.
The mural covered the entire wall beside the door, an ocean of blues and greys and blacks, whipped into a storm by hurried, impatient finger strokes. Rising from the water was a narrow frame, tapering to a point where the shadow of a person clung to it for dear life.
Wesley recognised it . . . no, the painting recognised him.
Underneath the mural, scrawled in block capitals, were two words that unlocked everything.
SAVE YOURSELF.
His knees threatened to buckle, and he caught himself to sit on