Toxic

Chapter 4

At school on Monday, I found myself wishing for Carly to be in so I could have it out with her properly, but there was no sign of her.

Maybe she'd left. Well, good riddance.

Andre seems to be none the worse for his ordeal, and came lolloping along towards me as I waited for Mr Macklin, our form teacher to show up.

"Look, Thorn, I'm so sorry. She pounced on me, and I was out of my head drunk," he says sadly.

Too right she did.

"It was just a mistake, okay? Don't worry about it." I console him.

He seemed relieved that I had forgiven him so easily, and soon became his old self again.

I went for a walk after school, trying and failing to clear my head. The wind bit my cheeks, and I was freezing although I had a coat, scarf and gloves on.

A woman who looked to be in her thirties was in front of me, clutching bulging bags of shopping, and she was struggling with their weight.

One of the handles gave way and her stuff spilled out onto the pavement.

She muttered to herself as she bent down to sort it out.

"Here, let me help you with that." I go over to her.

"No, thank you, I've got it under control," she replied, cramming jars into her handbag. The woman didn't meet my eyes at all, and kept her head down as she collected up her goods.

All I can make out is she has light green eyes, ringed with kohl.

A small bottle lies at my feet, and I'm surprised it didn't shatter on impact with the chewing gum coated paving stones.

I reach down, peering at the dark purple liquid inside before she snatches it and hurriedly shoves that into her bag too.

All the shopping is cleared away and she stands up, fumbling in her purse. " Here you are, love, get yourself something nice for your troubles."

I nod, clutching the five pound note she's just pressed into my hand, and she turns away.

I head to the crossing, just a few metres away, and look over my shoulder. She's vanished. No one walks that fast.

Even way in the distance I can't see her.

I haven't seen that woman around before, and I know most people who live here because it is such a close community.

Maybe Gran will know her.

Gran's face turned as pale as milk when I relayed what had happened that afternoon.

"Thorn," she eventually says. "Get me that old book out, would you?"

It's the very one she'd promised to teach me spells from. I give her it wordlessly and she flicks through it.

"There," she places it flat on the coffee table.

On a double, slightly crinkled page, there is a photograph of a witch, a cobra curled around her neck.

The snake is wound tightly around the woman's voluptuous body, its coils glistening. The witch herself is staring out of the picture, one hand stroking the cobra.

Those eyes looked familiar but I couldn't work out where I'd seen them.

"Who is she?"

"That, Thorn, is Rosalind."

Several things suddenly click into place.

Gran bustles into the kitchen to make some tea while I try to make sense of it all.

The woman I'd met while out shopping and the witch in the picture - they were one and the same.

Those weren't groceries that she'd dropped earlier on, but potion ingredients.

Which was why Carly was absent from school today, she had been out gathering them.

I had been right all along. Carly Remington was not just a witch, she was a murderer.

I get up to join Gran in the kitchen, my hands shaking with fear.

"What's the matter, love?" her kind eyes look into mine.

"Carly is Rosalind."

It was all I needed to say.

"Then you must teach yourself how to destroy her."

PE was my favourite subject, and I was going to fetch the net-balls for Mrs Layton, when who should I find on the way back from the store cupboard but Carly.

She was hunched up against the wall, her back to me.

"Carly?" I ask tentatively.

She whirls round, and I'm sure I see a flash of acid in her eyes before they turn brown.

"Could you take me to the office?" she requests. " I don't feel at all well."

"Okay, but mostly they just tell you to get on with it and go back to class."

Her face is pale, and she wraps her black cardigan tighter around her skinny frame.

"I know, but I really do feel awful."

She looked it, too. I put my arm around her and lead her to the office, depositing her on a bench in reception while I tell the nurse what's up with her.

"Thank you, Thorn." Carly whispers.

I head back to the gym hall. What the hell was going on now?

That night, I'm sat at my desk, working through my geography questions when Dad pops his head round the door.

"Phone for you, Thorn," he hands me the land line and shuts my door gently.

I flop onto my black furry beanbag. "Hello?"

"Hello, Thorn, its Dom."

Dom is Andre's father, and the two of them are the spitting images of each other.

"What's up?"

"Andre was sent home from school ill this afternoon. Its not contagious, but he's been asking for you. Could you come round? I'd pick you up myself, but Susie had to work late, and I can't leave Andre."

"I'll get my dad to give me a lift. Don't worry, I'll be there in a few minutes."

"He won't eat anything at all, and he's burning up with a fever." Dom tells me anxiously when I arrive.

He leads me into their living room. Andre is lying on the leather sofa, a blanket draped over him, and he's propped up on a pillow.

His eyelids flicker open slowly. "Hey," he manages to say.

I take hold of his hand, which is red hot and clammy. He squeezes mine lightly.

"When did this happen?" I want to know. I stroke his soft hair, plastered to his forehead.

"I...I'm not sure. I think I blacked out at some point."

"You fainted?"

"I was talking to Carly after Physics class. Mr Costello kept us back late, so all the corridors were empty. Then I must have blacked out, because the next thing I remember is waking up in the office, and my head was banging".

Carly was always in the midst of things these days.

She was ill this afternoon  too - there was no doubt in my mind that she'd felt bad.

Was she feeling remorseful? Perhaps she felt bad in the sense that she knew she'd harmed him.

"There's another thing, too. My ankle is sore, like I've been bitten."

I peel back the blanket. The side of his foot is swollen, and there are teeth marks in his skin.

"What could have bitten you, though?"

"I don't know, but I feel crap. Can I have a kiss to make me feel better?"

I lean in to meet his lips, puzzling over the latest turn of events.