Losing Juliet: A gripping psychological thriller with twists you won’t see coming. June Taylor
you can. Take it. It’s for all the help you’re giving me.’
‘No. Juliet.’
Shaking the dress temptingly, she added: ‘I washed it three times. Doesn’t smell of charity shops any more.’
She put it to Chrissy’s nose, forcing her to sniff it and break into a grin. ‘Well, I really do love it. Thanks.’ It was only then that she noticed the dark circles under Juliet’s eyes, how her face was slightly drawn and her skin lacklustre. ‘Are you okay, Ju? I mean is everything—?’
‘’Course it is,’ she snapped. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’
‘I just thought—’
‘Why do you always worry so much?’ She rubbed the back of her neck. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to bite your head off; I was up late finishing the dress. I wanted to give it to you today.’ She linked her arm through Chrissy’s. ‘Shall we walk back to yours?’
***
The first thing Chrissy did on entering her room was to check that the radiator was working. She had shoved newspaper into the gaps around the window to try to stop the heat escaping.
Meanwhile Juliet was rooting through her box of records. ‘Are all these yours?’ she asked.
‘What? Oh, no, some are Dan’s.’
Juliet put on The Smiths and started dancing to keep warm, whilst Chrissy admired her new dress. ‘So, when do I get to meet this amazing Dan then?’ she shouted above the music. ‘Are you afraid he won’t like me or something?’
Chrissy tried not to let the excitement of seeing him again show on her face. ‘I think he’s coming next weekend. ‘’Course he’ll like you, Ju. Who doesn’t?’
Juliet shrugged. She stopped dancing, inspecting the books on the shelf above Chrissy’s desk, running her fingers along the spines, starting with Camus and Sartre and ending up at the enormous French–English/English–French dictionary.
‘You bought them all, didn’t you?’ she remarked.
‘Well yeah. We were meant to.’ Chrissy tossed the dress down onto the bed and spun Juliet round to look at it. ‘Why are you even doing this course anyway? That’s what you should be doing, Ju. A degree in fashion, not French.’
Juliet slumped onto the bed, her eyes filling with tears. ‘My dad doesn’t believe in Mickey Mouse degrees,’ she said. ‘If I change courses he’ll stop giving me any money at all and then I’m stuffed. I’d never survive on my own.’ She took a tissue out of her pocket, dabbing at the mascara smudges. ‘Cowper Road’s okay for a crash pad now and then but they’d soon get sick of me if I had to stay there all the time.’ Chrissy thought it best to let her offload without interrupting. ‘And I can’t live at home either because I don’t even know where that is. Hong Kong, Singapore, Australia, Europe. Fuck knows. Any old place where my parents happen to be.’ She blew her nose. ‘I can speak four languages but what good is that if you never get to know anyone? They really should write a How to Fuck Up Your Kids manual.’
Chrissy stroked her arm, pleased that Juliet was opening up to her at last. She noticed some freshly made cuts on the milky-white skin above her wrist. ‘Oh, Ju. Why do you do this to yourself?’
‘Thanks for listening, I appreciate it,’ she said, wrenching her arm back. ‘I’m really worried about my essay though. The Proust one.’
‘What? So when’s that due in?’
‘Tomorrow.’
Chrissy let out a moan.
‘But not until the afternoon.’
‘Oh, well—’
‘I have started it.’
Chrissy sighed. ‘Okay,’ she said, holding out her hand. ‘Give.’
Juliet’s face brightened and she rummaged in her bag for the essay. Six pages of scrappy handwriting. She hadn’t even bothered to number them. Then she sprang up. Her eyes lingered on the essay for a moment but she clapped her hands together as if summoning the real Juliet back. ‘Right. We’re going to have ourselves a blast tonight and I want to see you in that dress.’ Slinging her beaten-up leather bag over her shoulder, she made for the door.
‘It’s way too glam for the Union disco,’ Chrissy protested.
‘You have to wear it. I really want you to.’
Juliet blew her a kiss and was gone.
***
The air was thick with cigarette haze and there was an almost tropical humidity coming off the dance floor. Wednesday night was indie night. The fabric-draped ceiling and strobe lighting gave the place a nightclub vibe, and by the time they got there the floor was already tacky underfoot, the music ear-throbbing. It had all the makings of a great night. Chrissy felt overdressed, she knew she would, although she was enjoying having a share in the attention for a change. Admirers usually gravitated towards Juliet, understandably, and Chrissy was fine with that as long as she could find someone to chat to, or dance with, in the intervening period. Hanging out with Juliet this wasn’t usually a problem; Juliet drew in the cool crowd wherever she went.
They came off the dance floor and made for the bar, standing to one side clutching plastic pints of lager. Juliet scrounged a cigarette from a guy who was hoping to get lucky. ‘Huh. Not a chance,’ she said after giving him the brush-off. Juliet then alerted Chrissy to a good-looking guy on the other side of the bar who was clearly checking her out for a change. ‘Would you ever, do you think? He’s definitely doable, that one.’
‘Doable? Honestly, Ju! What sort of a term is that? ‘’Course I wouldn’t; I could never do that to Dan.’
Juliet held a gulp of lager in her mouth, contemplating Chrissy before she swallowed it. ‘Hmm, you say that.’
‘I definitely wouldn’t. Not ever.’
Juliet took a long drag of her cigarette. ‘I wouldn’t tell him, you know,’ she said, giving Chrissy a nudge. ‘If that’s what you’re worried about.’
‘I’m not!’
‘Just saying. Got to keep your options open. You only live once.’ After a few more puffs of her cigarette she seemed to turn gloomy. ‘Well, anyway, you’re lucky to have him. He sounds great.’
Chrissy tapped her glass against hers. ‘Don’t be like that. And cheers. I’m lucky to have you both.’
Around midnight, Chrissy returned from the toilet to find Juliet getting it on with the guy who didn’t stand a chance earlier. Now, clearly he did. ‘I’m going to go, Ju,’ she said, patting her on the shoulder. ‘Come and get your essay after lunch. I’ll see what I can do with it in the morning.’ She didn’t think Juliet had heard, but suddenly her arms were around her neck.
‘Love you,’ said Juliet.
‘Love you too.’ Chrissy noticed her pupils were like saucers. ‘Night then, Ju.’ She was going to add and be careful but didn’t fancy being mocked all over again.
Manchester: 2007
Eloise was wiping down tables, a million questions still racing through her mind. The more she learned about Juliet, the more she was fascinated by her. Her mother fascinated her, too. To think she would have been friends with someone as carefree as that. She couldn’t wait to meet Juliet, although had to keep reminding herself that, as yet, her mother had no idea what she was up to. She hadn’t quite made up her mind whether to tell her or not.
‘They’re going to get a ticket if they don’t move soon,’ said Maria, standing