certain she knows who it is, so why hasn’t she done anything about it?’
Three years is a long time to write to someone. That’s commitment. That’s romantic. I think about George sitting in the window of the shop, acting cynical about love, when all the while she’s falling for a secret admirer.
‘He might not even be the guy she thinks he is,’ Martin says. ‘He might be a psychopath.’
‘All the psychopaths are on the internet now,’ I say.
‘Why?’
‘More potential for victims, I guess.’
‘No, why wouldn’t George want to meet him? If she really is so sure about who he is?’
‘Scared,’ I say. ‘She’s shy.’
‘She doesn’t seem shy. She seems hostile and aggressive.’
‘It’s a cover,’ I say, working something out about my sister as I say it.
‘Good cover,’ Martin says, but I think he’s worked it out too because some of the anger’s gone out of his voice.
I look around for Rachel’s Volvo, wondering if my text got through.
‘With a bit of luck, Amy might call the police,’ Martin says.
I love Amy, flaws and all, but I know, without a doubt, that she won’t be calling the police. I know that she didn’t call them after I disappeared in the boot. She didn’t take down the numberplate like Rachel would have done. She didn’t get into a taxi and say, ‘Follow that car.’
It’s Rachel we’re waiting for. Rachel I texted. Rachel who’s coming to save us.
Rachel
it’s a soft nuzzling at air
Towards the end of dinner, I get a text from Henry – help! Along with it, there’s a dropped pin on a map showing me his location.
I’m relieved that I have a reason to go early. Relieved too, that I can tell Mum it’s an emergency and I’m not going dancing with Henry. ‘He’s in some trouble,’ I say, and kiss her and Rose goodbye.
I call Lola when I get outside, because I’m not driving to the docks alone. Before I even say hello, she tells me in a rush that I was right. ‘Your idea was perfect. We’ve pooled our money and my grandmother kicked in too, so we can rent a friend’s studio for a brilliant rate and we can record all our songs, from the first to the last, every song we’ve ever written, so we can sell them at our last gig and maybe keep selling them after.’ She takes a quick breath, but not enough to let me speak. ‘Are you looking for Henry? I saw him with Amy and Martin earlier, near the bookshop.’
The fact that he’s talking to her doesn’t necessarily mean anything and even if it does, Henry hasn’t done anything wrong. He hasn’t made any secret about the fact that he loves Amy. He’s selling the bookstore to get her back. I know this.
Still. I think briefly about deleting Henry’s call for help and going home. But he’s my friend and friends save each other and I can’t not save him because he’s got terrible taste in girls.
‘Rach? You there?’ Lola asks.
I quickly fill her in, and her voice shifts from excited to worried. She puts the phone away from her mouth and tells Hiroko. ‘Tell her we’ll cancel Laundry and go with her,’ Hiroko says from the background, but Lola’s not all that keen on the idea. ‘Ask George to go with you,’ Lola says, coming back to the phone. ‘And if she can’t, then call us back and we’ll come.’
I drive to the bookstore, park, and text George from the car, letting her know that I need her help with Henry. It’s not that late, but she’s already in her pyjamas – blue ones with clouds – and she doesn’t bother going back in to get changed.
She takes my phone, looks at the dropped pin, and directs me through Gracetown, in the direction of the city. We don’t bother with music, we’re too wired to listen. I’m worried about Henry and since George is unusually quiet, I assume she is too. ‘Through these lights and then take a left,’ she says, and we hit a heap of Friday-night traffic.
I’m watching a group of girls walk in front of the car, girls my age out for the night in short dresses, long boots and glittery skin, when George blurts out that Martin asked her on a date and she told him she’d meet him at Pavement.
‘Where?’
‘Pavement,’ she says again.
It’s what I thought she said, but I was hoping for Martin’s sake I’d misheard. ‘Is Pavement the same kind of place it