The Girl Who Lied: The bestselling psychological drama. Sue Fortin
direction.
‘No, I’m good, thanks,’ I reply. I really don’t want to smoke. I don’t care if others do; it’s something that has never appealed to me.
‘Goody Two Shoes,’ Roisin says. She masks the remark with a smile. ‘What about a drink?’ she adds, as she rummages in her bag. She pulls out a large plastic bottle.
‘Cola?’ I ask and then immediately regret it as Roisin and Jody snigger.
‘Yeah, cola,’ says Roisin, ‘and vodka. Jesus, Erin, I wonder at you sometimes.’
‘I thought it was just cola too,’ says Rebecca. She tosses her long black hair with pink-tinted ends behind her shoulder. ‘Easy mistake to make.’
She looks over and smiles at me. I return the smile.
The bottle is passed around and this time I do participate.
The boy talking to Shane pulls a tobacco pouch from his pocket. ‘Anyone want a proper smoke now?’
To the encouraging agreement from the others, he unfolds the pouch and, crouching down, begins to roll a cigarette. It’s at this point I realise it’s not a normal cigarette, not with those large papers and the extra sprinkling of green he mixes with the tobacco.
He stands up, lights the joint and takes a draw, long and slow. He puts his head back and closes his eyes. After a moment he lets the smoke drift out of his mouth. He blinks a couple of times, refocuses and looks appreciatively at the roll-up between his fingers. ‘That’s good,’ he says. He offers the joint around.
‘Cheers, Kerry,’ says Jody, before taking an equally long draw. ‘Now that’s why I love my cousin. He gets seriously good gear.’ He gives Kerry a friendly punch on the upper arm.
So the boy is Jody and Shane’s cousin. That would explain the blond hair and ease with each other. Looking at the three of them, I can see the family likeness now.
The joint finds its way to me. I debate whether to take a drag, just to pacify them, as I’m sure there will be some comment if I don’t.
‘No big deal if you don’t want to,’ says Kerry. ‘It’s cool.’ He sends a look in Jody and Roisin’s direction and then the decision is taken away from me as Kerry reaches over and, taking the joint from my fingers, passes it on to Niall.
Kerry smiles at me briefly and I am thankful the moment has passed.
Niall, on the other hand, has clearly done this before. I don’t know whether I’m shocked or not. I suppose I am a little bit. I know he smokes, but he’s never mentioned weed before. I’m not sure how I feel about this as his eyes glaze over.
The vodka and coke is following the joint round our little group. I take a larger gulp than before, conscious the others are getting merrily stoned and drunk while I’m not feeling the effects of anything. I don’t want to be the only one sober; it makes the night less fun. Nothing is quite so funny when you’ve not had a drink but everyone else has.
Suddenly the sound of door to the function room can be heard as it clatters open. The dull beat of the music is now sharper as the sound escapes into the night air but not so loud that we don’t hear footsteps crunch purposefully across the gritted car park. Roisin pops her head around the corner and almost chokes on the vodka and coke she has just swigged. She dives back.
‘Feck! It’s Mam,’ she hisses and thrusts the bottle into my hands. There’s a flurry of activity as Niall drops his cigarette and crunches it underneath his foot.
I’m left holding the bottle of alcohol. I turn, looking for somewhere to hide it, but there’s nowhere.
‘Oh God, what shall I do with the bottle? Niall?’
He shakes his head. The bottle is then snatched from my hands just as Diana appears. I look over at Kerry, who now has it. Diana isn’t stupid. She scans our faces. Her eyes rest on the bottle and then flick to me. I’m sure she saw Kerry take it.
‘I hope that’s just coke in there,’ she says, her eyes still trained on me. ‘And I can smell cigarettes.’ This time Roisin is under scrutiny.
‘That will be me,’ says Kerry, holding up his cigarette, which fortunately is a normal one. I have no idea where the joint has gone.
I don’t think Diana believes him but she can’t prove otherwise. ‘Shane, your mother was wondering where you were. She wants you back in. Now.’
‘Right you are,’ says Shane. He turns to us. ‘Come on, we’d better go in. Don’t want to upset me mam.’
‘I’ll say,’ says Kerry.
We make a move and head back into the hall. Diana is at the helm. I link my arm through Niall’s, but behind me I can hear a barrage of whispered swear words and scuffling. I glance back over my shoulder as Kerry extracts the joint from his pocket and is frantically flapping at his jacket with the palm of his hand.
Jody is smothering a laugh. ‘He hid it in his pocket,’ he whispers with a grin. ‘It didn’t go out, though.’
We are quite a gaggle staggering our way back into the party, all with varying degrees of success. Diana holds the door open and practically counts us in. I let go of Niall’s arm so we can single-file in through the door. As I pass Diana she puts her hand on my shoulder.
‘I’m watching you,’ she says. ‘I know that bottle was yours and there’s more than just coke in it.’
I go to protest but decide against it. Grassing up Roisin is not on my agenda and, besides, I don’t think Diana would believe me anyway.
Kerry couldn’t help glancing up the garden of Apple Tree Cottage every few minutes. The barbecue was in full swing and still no sign of Erin. He really thought she would turn up, especially after Bex’s chat with her.
‘Another beer?’ said Joe, coming over with a cold bottle he had hooked out of a barrel of ice.
Kerry accepted the beer and, using the bottle opener Joe passed his way, flicked off the top and took a long slug.
‘You been stood up?’ said Joe.
‘She’s bringing her boyfriend,’ said Kerry. ‘Hardly call it stood up.’
‘Maybe she got a better offer.’ Joe gave his cousin a gentle punch on the arm.
Kerry resisted the urge to tell Joe where to go. He refused to rise to the bait. Besides, he was pissed off at himself for even thinking Erin would want to come to the barbecue, least of all because he was there.
He watched Storm and the other children race around the garden, squirting each other with water pistols. Skip was scampering after them, clearly enjoying all the excitement. As Storm tore past Kerry and Joe, screaming with laughter, one of the older kids grabbed the hosepipe and turning it on, pressed his thumb over the opening. The resultant jet of water sprayed both Kerry and Joe.
‘Hey!’ shouted Kerry, jumping back out of the way.
‘Little shit,’ muttered Joe, but he was laughing all the same.
‘Right, that does it,’ said Kerry good-humouredly. He thrust his beer bottle at Joe and strode across the grass. The lad screamed and, dropping the hosepipe, fled round the corner of the house.
Kerry picked up the hose and waited for the boy to come back into the garden. A movement caught Kerry’s eye and he squirted the hosepipe at the lad.
There was a scream and a curse.
A cheer went up from the guests in the garden.
‘Shit.’ Kerry dropped the hosepipe.
Standing in front of him wasn’t the lad, but