A Good Girl's Guide to Murder (A Good Girl's Guide to Murder #1) - Holly Jackson Page 0,86

jumped to her throat she threw the duvet off and climbed out again. But this time she tiptoed across the landing and pushed open the door into Josh’s room. He was sound asleep, his peaceful face lit up by his cool blue star nightlight.

Pip crept over to the foot of his bed. She climbed up and crawled over to the pillow end, avoiding the sleeping lump of her brother. He didn’t wake but moaned a little when she flicked his duvet over herself. It was so warm inside. And Josh would be safe, if she was here to watch him.

She lay there, listening to his deep breaths, letting her brother’s sleep-heat thaw her. Her eyes crossed and tripped over each other as she stared ahead, transfixed by the soft blue light of spinning stars.

Thirty

‘Naomi’s been a bit jumpy since . . . you know,’ Cara said, walking Pip down the corridor to her locker. There was still something awkward between them, a solid thing only just starting to melt around the edges, though they both pretended it wasn’t there.

Pip didn’t know what to say.

‘Well, she’s always been a bit jumpy but even more now,’ Cara continued anyway. ‘Yesterday, Dad called her from the other room and she jumped so hard that she threw her phone across the kitchen. Completely smashed it up. Had to send it off this morning to get fixed.’

‘Oh,’ Pip said, opening up her locker and stacking her books inside. ‘Um, does she need a spare phone? My mum just upgraded and still has the old one.’

‘Nah, it’s fine. She found an old one of hers from years ago. Her SIM didn’t fit but we found an old pay-as-you-go one with some credit left. That’ll do her for now.’

‘Is she OK?’ Pip said.

‘I don’t know,’ Cara replied. ‘Don’t think she’s been OK for a long while. Not since Mum died, really. And I’d always thought there was something more she was struggling with.’

Pip closed the locker and followed her. She hoped Cara hadn’t noticed the make-up pasted dark circles under her eyes, or the bloodshot spider legs of veins running through them. Sleep wasn’t really an option any more. Pip had sent off her Cambridge admission essays and started studying for her ELAT entrance exam. But her deadline for keeping Naomi and Cara out of everything was ticking down every second. And when she did sleep there was a dark figure in her dreams just out of sight, watching her.

‘It’ll be OK,’ Pip said. ‘I promise.’

Cara gave her hand a squeeze as they turned their separate ways down the corridor.

A few doors down from her English classroom, Pip stopped sharply, her shoes squeaking against the floor. Someone was trudging down the hall towards her, someone with pixie-cut white hair and black-winged eyes.

‘Nat?’ Pip said with a small wave.

Nat da Silva slowed and came to stop just in front of her. She didn’t smile and she didn’t wave. She barely looked at her.

‘What are you doing in school?’ Pip said, noticing Nat’s electronic ankle tag was a sock-covered bulge above her trainers.

‘I forgot all details of my life were suddenly your business, Penny.’

‘Pippa.’

‘Don’t care,’ she spat, her top lip arching in a sneer. ‘If you must know, for your perverted project, I’ve officially hit rock bottom. My parents are cutting me off and no one will hire me. I just begged that slug of a head teacher for my brother’s old caretaker job. They can’t hire violent criminals, apparently. There’s an after-Andie effect for you to analyse. She really played the long game with me.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Pip said.

‘No.’ Nat picked up her feet and strode away, the gust of her sudden departure ruffling Pip’s hair. ‘You’re not.’

After lunch Pip returned to her locker to grab her Russia textbook for double history. She opened the door and the paper was just sitting there on top of her book pile. A folded piece of printer paper that had been pushed through the top slit.

A flash of cold dread dropped through her. She checked over both shoulders that no one was watching her and reached in for the note.

This is your final warning, Pippa. Walk away.

She read the large black printed letters only once, folded the page back up and slipped it inside the cover of her history textbook. She pulled out the book – a two-handed job – and walked away.

It was clear now. Someone wanted her to know that they could get to her at home and at school.