To help us process Tessa’s passing, Mr Hazelock organised for a memorial to be held in the courtyard before college.
It wasn’t mandatory, but a lot of people seemed to be turning up an hour or so early, to either pay their respects or be nosy. I wasn’t sure which. I was the latter.
While I really wanted to visit Tobias and see what answers he could give us, I’d agreed with Mum I’d wait until the end of the day. She seemed to think I might get useful information from college, so I got up early and went to Tessa’s memorial.
She’d been popular. The amount of people who’d turned up really shouldn’t have surprised me. Most people seemed to know her name even if they hadn’t gone to school with her, or weren’t in any of her classes. She was just that kind of person.
She was floating around the courtyard, trying to eavesdrop on conversations while everyone congregated, waiting for Mr Hazelock to speak. She couldn’t get to many people, though, because everyone was huddled together to keep warm. It was so cold I could see people’s breath when they spoke.
An impromptu stage had been set up at one end of the courtyard, with a microphone and speaker on it. Directly in front of it was a row of seats featuring Tessa’s parents, Josh, Melanie, and Laura.
Above, I was almost sure I saw a glowing raven circling the courtyard, but it was too far away for me to see for definite. Was it a ghost raven? Didn’t Goodfellow have a raven? I had a ghost cat. A ghost raven wasn’t totally ridiculous, was it?
Had Goodfellow sent it to spy on us, somehow? Could a raven do that, let alone as a ghost? I stepped back into the shadows, just in case.
Mr Hazelock stepped on to the stage, stood in front of the microphone, and cleared his throat. ‘Hello, everyone. Thank you for coming. I’m sorry we’ve come together under such tragic circumstances.’
Tessa floated over to him and stood next to him, looking out over the crowd. She nodded, a smirk creeping over her pretty face. Of course she was going to enjoy this.
‘Tessa was a remarkable student. She touched the lives of many of us here, as today’s turnout shows.’
What Mr Hazelock wasn’t factoring in was that many people were glad to be rid of her, something I’d heard a few people allude to while eavesdropping on their conversations. They weren’t exactly speaking ill of the dead, but they sure weren’t saying anything nice, either.
Mr Hazelock continued to talk about how great Tessa was. I ignored him, instead listening to what the people around me were whispering. I vaguely knew some of them, but not well enough to know their names. I’d only seen them in passing. Judging from how they spoke, they’d been in Tessa’s classes.
‘What’s he on about? She was an insufferable know-it-all. No one else ever got the chance to answer questions in class because she always butted in. Hardly ever even put her hand up. And the teachers didn’t notice,’ said one girl.
Her friend leaned in to her to reply: ‘The teachers noticed all right. They just didn’t care. She was too far up their arses.’
The first speaker snorted, covering her face with a gloved hand. ‘Should we be saying this at her memorial?’
The friend shrugged. ‘Who cares? Nobody’s listening. They’re too busy paying attention to Mr Kiss-Arse.’
I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Tessa’s parents in the front row next to Josh, then. The people on the front row were the only ones sitting on chairs. Despite being closer to the ground than most of the other attendees, they were loud enough to make themselves known.
Tessa’s mum had a similar cry to her daughter, and she looked a lot like her from the back, too. Our head teacher was probably kissing up to them to either try to get money out of them, or to get his fifteen minutes’ of fame on the local TV, who were recording the whole thing from their spot at the front. He’d never been that great of a head teacher when it came to waking up and noticing what people were really like. He’d barely even punished Tessa for doing permanent damage to my back.
Well, almost permanent damage.
Dominic had taught me how to give my pain to Tessa and steal her good health. It was one of the few things he’d actually helped me with. And at least Tessa wasn’t dealing with the consequences anymore.
‘I’m sure we can all agree how tragic it is that Tessa’s life was cut short, and she’ll never be able to fulfil her dreams of becoming a lawyer,’ continued Mr Kiss-Arse. Sorry, Mr Hazelock.
Tessa let out a strangled cry. She made sobbing sounds, floating off the stage and out of sight. While she couldn’t technically cry, she could still make the noises and express how she felt through body language.
For once, I felt sorry for her. She’d attended her own memorial to gloat, but instead, it was reminding her of everything she’d lost.
Tessa couldn’t go far, so I crept away from my spot at the back of the crowd and went into the corridor. Sure enough, she was hovering above a bench, sobbing.
I sat down on the bench near her.
Tessa turned to me and glared.
‘What do you want?’ she snapped. ‘Shouldn’t you be off solving my murder?’
‘Shouldn’t you be more polite to one of the few people who can solve your murder?’
She clenched her jaw and crossed her arms, then floated through the wall behind us and back into the courtyard.
Well, that conversation went well. So much for feeling sorry for her.
I stayed where I was, listening to the rest of the memorial through the wall. As it wrapped up, the corridor began to fill with people again.
Melanie sat next to me on the bench, in the spot Tessa had vacated. ‘How did she take it?’
‘Not great,’ I replied, assuming she meant Tessa. ‘She came in here when it got too much and when I tried to talk to her, she stormed off. As much as she could, anyway.’
Melanie shook her head. She was wearing all black, which she didn’t usually. How Victorian of her. ‘That’s just like Tessa. She never did like it when the conversation got too sensitive or serious. She’s always been pretty closed off.’
I sighed, looking up to see Josh walking past. Tessa was nowhere in sight. Probably still in the courtyard. It was close enough for her ties to Josh, but far enough that she had her own space.
‘Could you excuse me a minute?’ I said to Melanie. I got up and went over to Josh, touching his arm to stop him. He flinched at my touch, jerking his arm away. That was never not going to hurt. I understood why he did it. He’d have been even less willing to be near me if he’d known I was responsible for his recent ankle injury. I was a monster. How could I have ever used my powers to hurt him? He’d done nothing wrong, but he kept paying just because he’d been my best friend. It wasn’t fair.
‘I’m really sorry for your loss.’ Even as I said it, I knew it sounded hollow. But I had to show him that I still cared; that I hated seeing him in pain. Because I did. Especially as his pain seemed to manifest as anger at the people around him – and himself.
Josh frowned. ‘What do you care? You didn’t even like her.’ He stormed off before I could reply.
While I still couldn’t see Tessa, I was pretty sure I heard her cackle.
*
‘How are you feeling?’ I asked, walking into Ben’s house.
Fadil shielded his eyes, turning away from the front door and going into the lounge without saying anything. The curtains were shut, and it was eerily still inside the house. Usually he had the TV or radio or a podcast on in the background when he was alone. Not this time. ‘Being cursed was easier. At least I was just lying there.’
‘You’ve never had a cold before?’ I asked, going into the kitchen and putting the chicken soup Maggie had made for him on the side.
‘Sure. Four thousand years ago.’
Right. Germs had come a long way since then.
I dug into my bag and took out a couple of packets. ‘Doc gave me some recommendations.’
Fadil peered over my shoulder. ‘Recommendations for what?’
‘Things to help speed up your recovery or lessen your symptoms: probiotics, to boost your immune system. Vitamin C, to reduce the duration of your cold, and Maggie’s chicken soup to coat your throat.’
‘Coat my throat?’
‘Something to do with the stuff in it. Turns out, chicken soup does have health benefits. And Maggie just happens to make the best.’ While we continued talking, I put the soup into the microwave to reheat and stuck the kettle on.
‘You didn’t ask Maggie to make this just for me, did you?’
‘No. She makes it at work to use up the leftover roast chickens. Smuggled me a tub out.’
Fadil rolled his bloodshot eyes. ‘Thank you, but you shouldn’t have. None of you should have.’
‘What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t look after you when you’re ill?’ I started making a hot drink for him to take his supplements with. ‘Oh and Doc said it’s better to get your vitamin C from food rather than supplements, as your body will process them differently. But since you were comatose for a few millennia, he thought it was better to be safe than sorry. He also suggested eating sweet potatoes and strawberries to increase your vitamin C intake. But don’t bother with strawberries this time of year. It’s like eating squishy water.’
‘I’ve never eaten a strawberry. Or a sweet potato.’
I stared at him for a moment, the kettle whistling and the microwave humming in the background. Sometimes I forgot how new and alien twenty-first century life was for him. ‘We’ll fix that. When things don’t taste like water.’
‘I’d kind of like to try that, actually. It seems…strange.’
‘Well, that can be arranged. I think Ben is going grocery shopping on his way home. I’ve passed on the message from Doc.’ The kettle finished boiling and I made us both cups of tea.
Fadil sat at the table, cradling his head in his hand. ‘Do colds always feel this bad?’
‘Depends on the cold. Although given you probably don’t have much of an immune system to fight it off…’
He shook his head. ‘My throat burns. My nose is blocked one minute, running the next. My head wants to explode. Is this normal?’
‘Sadly.’ I took the soup from the microwave, divided it into two portions, then put the bowls on the table with a couple of spoons. When Maggie had asked if I’d like some soup, too, it’d been impossible to say no. Hopefully the chicken soup really would be good for my soul as well as his germs. ‘This should help your throat, and hopefully clear your nose out a bit.’
He picked up the spoon and raised it in my direction. ‘Here’s hoping.’ Lowering it into the soup, he took his first mouthful. ‘Damn, that’s good.’
‘Duh. It’s Maggie’s.’ I gave him his tea, then sat down opposite him. Caring for Fadil gave me a welcome distraction from the memorial that morning. Until the quiet in our conversation while we ate allowed my brain to return to all the things I didn’t want to think about. Yay.
‘What are you thinking?’ Fadil asked between mouthfuls. ‘You look…pensive.’
‘Am I a monster?’
Fadil looked up from his soup, slamming his spoon back into his bowl. It clattered, some of the soup splashing on to the table. ‘No! Why would you ever think that? You’re one of the kindest people I know.’
I stirred my soup, preferring to stare at it than eat it. There was something weirdly therapeutic about watching it go around in circles. ‘For what I did to Josh. And Mrs Brightman. And everyone else Dominic made me hurt.’
‘You just said it yourself: Dominic made you do those things.’
‘I had a choice though, didn’t I? I could’ve said no.’ I stopped stirring my soup and put my spoon down. Lunch didn’t seem so appetising anymore.
‘He was manipulating you. You didn’t know that. But you got out! That’s a hard thing to do when someone like that gets under your skin.’
I shook my head. What he was saying made sense. If I’d been in his shoes, I would’ve said something similar. But I still couldn’t stop blaming myself. ‘I touched Josh’s arm to get his attention, and he flinched. He still barely looks at me. A whole lifetime of friendship, destroyed in ten days.’
We ate in silence for a few moments. It didn’t bother me, that Fadil didn’t say anything. I wasn’t expecting him to have answers, and I appreciated that he wasn’t trying to come up with them. Some problems didn’t have a solution, but there was something about discussing them that made me feel lighter.
‘Should I tell Josh what Dominic did? What he made me do?’ Then, something worse hit me. ‘How do I know if he’s fully recovered? What if he struggles for the rest of his life? What if when he hit his ankle because I drained him, it did permanent damage?’ I covered my mouth. ‘I am a monster!’
Fadil moved my hands from my face and held them in his. ‘You’re not a monster, Edie. And you can’t change the past. If you try, it’ll consume you.’
‘So what am I supposed to do instead?’
‘Find ways to live a better life.’
‘Well that sounds difficult.’
‘Nobody said life was easy.’