Raven Black

Chapter Thirty-Three

Sally had a free period and sat in the house room. A group of boys had pulled benches at an angle around a low table and were playing cards. There was music she didn't recognize coming out of the CD player. At one time she'd hated coming in here. She'd preferred to spend her free time in the library. Now it was hard to remember what it was that had so scared her about the place, why the stares and scowls of the insiders could cause such panic. She'd tried to explain to / Catherine. They hate me. 'Of course they don't hate you,' Catherine had said. 'They need you.

They wouldn't feel superior without someone to despise. They're inadequate!

Catherine hadn't cared. She'd walked over the posse's bags, taken their favourite seats, put her own music on the CD. She'd walked right up to them protected by her camcorder, pushing it into their faces, enjoying their hostility, catching it on film. Then she'd turned to Sally as if to say, See. The world hasn't ended. What can they do to you? And it had helped. Sally had been able to face them too. But it had never been easy.

Now Sally felt almost at home in the sixth-year house room.

She looked with pity at the outsiders who lingered in the corridor without finding the nerve to come in. She bitched to Lisa about them. Lisa was an easier friend than Catherine. She told Sally what she wanted to hear. Sally was tempted to tell her about Robert. They were sitting on their own in the corner of the house room, Lisa big and comfortable and sympathetic, lying back in the battered armchair.

She'd been out the night before and was moaning about her hangover. It was on the tip of Sally's tongue. Guess who I'm going out with? She knew Lisa would be dead impressed, longed to see her face when she heard. But whatever Lisa was, she wasn't discreet. It'd be all over the school in minutes. Sally couldn't risk it. She'd tell her parents in her own time, when she was ready.

Instead, she rooted in her bag and switched on her phone. There was a text message. Robert was back from the fishing and wanted to meet. She turned away from Lisa and hit the buttons. Babysitting for Fran Hunter 2nite. See me there? She felt a sudden thrill. It made it even more exciting, agreeing to meet Robert at Fran's house.

'Anything interesting?' Lisa asked. She had her eyes shut to show how rough she was feeling.

'No. Just about babysitting tonight!

She supposed she should feel guilty about arranging to meet Robert like that. Her mother would be horrified.

She didn't think Fran would mind though. Or her father. It came to her suddenly that perhaps he had a secret lover, that he arranged meetings like this of his own. She smiled at herself for being ludicrous. Even if he had the nerve for an affair someone would know about it. Word would have got' out. As it would about her and Robert eventually.

At lunchtime the weather seemed to lift and she thought she'd go out into the street to get something to eat.

Perez was standing in reception. He saw her coming down the corridor and waved at her.

'They've just sent someone to find you: he said. 'I was hoping for a chat!

'Why? I thought it was all over!

'Just a few more questions!

'I was on my way to lunch!

'I'll take you: he said. 'Let's go into town. My treat! He bought her fish and chips and they sat on a bench looking out over the harbour eating them. When he suggested it, she thought it wasn't much of a treat, but the fish tasted good and it wasn't so bad, being there, talking to him. Better than being in the house room, at least. The new Sally didn't get shy with strangers any more. She thought she'd been transformed, like the frog kissed by a princess in the fairy story. Though Robert made a pretty weird princess.

'You must miss her: Perez said. 'Catherine, I mean!

It was what her father had said too. She didn't like everyone thinking she'd been dependent on Catherine. She tried to choose her words carefully and to be as honest as possible. 'I'm not sure how much longer we'd have been close friends. I felt a bit overshadowed by her. She was too intense for me!

'In what way intense?'

'She questioned everything people said or did, dug around for the meaning behind it! She shrugged. At first I was impressed by that. After a bit it gets tedious. You just want to get on with your life!

'Is that what the film was about? Digging around?' 'Yeah, I suppose!

'Why didn't you mention the film she was making?'

'It was just a school project. No big deal! 'Important to her though?'

'You could say that. It mattered to her more than anything!

"Tell me about it!

'Why? I thought you'd arrested Magnus Tait:

'We have!

She waited for him to go into more detail, but he said nothing. He screwed up the chip paper into a ball and threw it into the bin.

'The film was like her comment on us. On Shetland!

'A documentary? I mean not a story. Factual!

'Her view of the facts! Sally knew she shouldn't sound so critical of a dead friend, but she couldn't help it. 'I mean, hardly objective!

'What was in it? Did she show you?'

'Bits!

'It wasn't finished then?'

'Just about!

'But you didn't see it all?'

'No. Like I said, just bits as she was making it. Shots she was specially proud of:

'Such as?'

'There was one scene filmed in the house room,that's like the common room at school!

'I know: he said. 'I went there, don't forget!

'There are these two lads talking. They can't have realized she was filming them. People got used to her wandering around with the camera. Sometimes it was switched on. Usually it wasn't. We stopped taking any notice of her after a bit. These lads were talking about foreigners. You know sometimes in the summer we get visitors…

Not white people..: She could tell she was flushing, felt as awkward as when Catherine had played the film to her. '.

.. And they were talking about how they hated foreigners and how Shetland's no place for them and what they'd like to do to them.

It wasn't so much what they were saying as how Catherine made them look on the film. I mean they looked really violent and mad: Sally paused. 'She said something like, I’ll have to get this to Duncan Hunter, won't I? Get him to include it in the latest tourist campaign. Show what a welcoming lot you Shetlanders are. She thought we were all like that. Ignorant, prejudiced, stupid. That was what the film would have showed:

'Did you see anything else?'

I think there might have been a piece about Mr Scott in it. I think she might have filmed that secretly. She talked about how she might do it. She'd put the camera into a bag with a gap in the seam. Then she said what a laugh it would be when she played it back in class. I'm not sure she would have done that though. You could never tell with Catherine. Sometimes she spoke in that really cruel way, but she didn't mean it. It was a weird kind of humour.

I don't think she deliberately set out to hurt people: Sally shook her chip paper and they were surrounded for a moment by gulls.

'Did she tell you what the scene with Mr Scott contained?'

'No. She said she didn't want to spoil the surprise:

Perez stood up to show that the meeting was almost at an end. Sally wondered what the conversation had really been about. At the car he paused. 'We can't find the camera or the disk. Do you know where it might be?'

Sally thought back to the last time she'd been in the big house in Ravenswick. 'She always kept the disk in a metal pencil box in her bedroom. She said if the house caught fire, it would have a chance of surviving. If it's not there, I don't know what she would have done with it:

When Sally got off the bus that evening, her mother was still in the school. She saw Sally walking across the yard and waved her to come in. Inside, there was the familiar smell of plasticine, floor polish and powder paint.

Sally hadn't enjoyed her time in the little school.

From the moment she started a couple of the older lads had made fun of her. They'd made her cry and she'd gone to her mother, who'd told her not to be a baby, but had shouted at the boys all the same. After that, every time her mother made an unpopular decision, somehow it was her fault. Snitcher Sally they'd called her. Her work got trashed when she wasn't looking and they tripped her up in the playground. She'd been a round dumpling of a girl in those days and that hadn't helped. Now, though, even Anderson High didn't seem so bad. She felt more in control than she had since starting there.

The children had been working on some painting to tie in with Up HeIly Aa. A Viking longboat in corrugated cardboard lay across several desks. They did the same display every year – Sally remembered it from her time in primary seven. Margaret Henry didn't have much imagination when it came to art.

'I need to get it up on the wall. Give me a hand will you?'

'You should get them to make torches to go with it. Collage. Anything red, orange or yellow they can cut out of magazines. Or something more shiny. Cellophane, wrapping paper.'

'Aye. Maybe I should.' Margaret stepped back to check that the boat was straight. Sally could tell she wouldn't get the kids to do anything different.

'Will Dad be home on time tonight?' 'No. A meeting in Scalloway.'

'I'm babysitting for Mrs Hunter.'

'I'd not forgotten.' Margaret wiped her hands on a paper towel. 'Let's hope the child doesn't play you up. She a handful, that Cassie Hunter. Full of herself.' Her attention was still on the longboat and she was talking almost to herself. 'There's something about her that reminds me of Catriona Bruce.'

Sally arrived at Fran's house carrying a bag with some books in and some make-up. This time she'd make a bit of an effort for Robert. Cassie was already in bed.

'She's knackered,' Fran said. 'Sometimes she gets a bit restless at night, but that's usually later. You shouldn't have any bother.'

Although Fran was only wearing jeans, you could tell she'd made an effort of her own before going out. She'd put on lipstick and Sally could smell perfume. She was wearing a silky top, close fitting, low cut. Sally would never have been able to get away with it, the size of her belly.

'It was good of you to come,' Fran said. 'I don't feel so bad asking now they've made an arrest, but it must make you think of Catherine.'

'I've been thinking about her all day. The inspector came to school at lunchtime to talk to me about her.'

. 'Oh?' Fran had been brushing her hair, looking at herself in the mirror over the mantelpiece. She stopped, the hand holding the brush poised over her head. Sally could tell she was dying to ask what he'd wanted, but didn't want to appear too nosy.

'Something about the film she was making.

Apparently it's gone missing,' Sally said.

Fran pushed the brush into a drawer and straightened her collar. 'She talked about the film. A project wasn't it?

A shame it's lost. It would be something to remember her by.'

'Aye.'

'There's a bottle of wine open in the fridge; Fran said at the door. She appeared suddenly reluctant to go. 'Help yourself. And to something to eat.' Then she seemed to convince herself that it would be safe to leave her child, grabbed hold of her bag and was gone. The house was quiet.

Sally was seldom alone in her own home at night.

Margaret didn't have any real social life and if she was out, it was usually at a meeting in the school, so close that Sally could hear the raised voices or polite clapping through the walls. The school seemed to insinuate itself into everything they did. She had spent tune in Catherine's house, but had never imagined herself living there. It was too big. Too grand. This place was different. She prowled around the room looking at the photographs and the sketches, checking out the music, imagining what it must be like to have your own place. Imagining what it would be like to live here with Robert.

In the fridge there was fancy French cheese, a plastic tub of black olives, a bag of salad. She poured herself a glass of white from the bottle in the door. If her mother noticed drink on her breath, she'd say Fran had insisted.

She drank it very quickly and the glass was almost empty when there was a gentle rap on the window. She turned in her chair and she saw him, his face squashed up to the glass, pulling a ridiculous face so he looked like a cartoon monster. She opened the door. He stood, filling the space between the door frame, holding the plastic tie round four beer cans.

'Where have you parked?'

'Don't worry. Round the back. There's a pull-in between the hill and the house. No one will see!

She liked the fact that he understood her need for secrecy, that he didn't mock her for it. 'Come in, come in,' she said. Much as the old man had done, when he'd invited her and Catherine into Hillhead at New Year.