Dead Jealous Read Free

discreetly tried to wipe away the potato sludge that dribbled down her chin.
    Beth smiled.
    ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound—’
    ‘—Like it’s the plague? That’s pretty much how my parents feel about it.’
    Poppy’s cheeks burned. She glanced across the field to where the opening ceremony was in full swing. The crowd had formed a large circle around four bonfires. White-robed figures stood around the wicker man, their hands outstretched to the twilight. It looked like a scene from a seventies horror film.
    ‘How about you? Do you have a… girlfriend? ’ Poppy asked, in an attempt to recover her live-and-let-live credentials.
    Beth’s blood-red lips stretched into a smile. ‘Aye, well, I have a habit of falling in love with people who are never going to love me back.’
    A sympathetic ‘hmmph’ escaped Poppy’s throat.
    Beth unzipped her leather jacket and leaned back on her elbows. ‘A fellow sufferer!’
    ‘No, not really.’
    ‘You’re gonna have to try harder than that to convince me. Who is he?’
    Poppy picked at a chip but then dropped it and wiped her fingers on her jeans.
    Beth laughed. ‘Wow! Y’really do have it bad.’
    Bad? Yeah. The secret had squatted in her chest for years. Some days it got bigger with every breath she took. She was petrified that one day the secret would burst and she’d say something – or worse, do something – that she’d never be able to take back. And that would be it. Finito. Her and Michael’s friendship would be over. Forever. And she wouldn’t let that happen. So much for her being finished with thinking about it!
    Tariq, she reminded herself. Actual flirting with a cute, single guy. Probably single. Jesus, he’d better be single. Not like...
    ‘Michael,’ she murmured.
    ‘And you’re in love with him, but he doesn’t love you?’
    Poppy pressed her lips together, unable to deny it, but not wanting to admit it either. She couldn’t deny the ache that sat in her chest. A throbbing, howling boil of self-pity.
    Beth turned her face to the sky. The heavens were closing in purple. The only light came from the pinky-orange glow that hovered like a celestial fried egg over the lake, and the newly dawning stars that drew in the night. Beth closed her eyes and smiled, as if she could feel the heat of those distant suns on her skin.
    ‘I should tell you to walk away. Forget him if you can. But love’s not like that. Love’s a bitch that doesna let you go.’ Beth fell silent. Her kohl-lined eyes remained closed. Her shiny black hair fell around her shoulders like shards of onyx.
    She wasn’t exactly pretty but she had strange angular features that reminded Poppy of a face from the cover of Vogue . And for a fleeting moment, she wondered what it would be like to kiss a girl. Was it so very different from kissing a boy? Were girls less hassle than guys? ‘Who is she? Your—’
    ‘—Maya. My Maya .’ Beth sang the name like it was a love song. ‘She was my best friend.’
    ‘What happened?’
    ‘Last year she came to this bloody place with her bastard boyfriend and I never heard from her again.’
    ‘Is that why you’re here? To find her?’
    ‘That’s what I told myself. But I knew—’ Beth clawed chipped red nails to her chest, like she would rip out her heart if she could. ‘—I knew in here that I wouldn’t find her.’ Her eyes flashed open. They were glassy with tears. ‘I fucking knew.’ She grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniel’s, swigged back several gulps and swiped the back of her hand across her mouth, smudging the edges of her lipstick.
    Down below they were singing now. A happy-clappy Pagan number. Lines of bodies danced in concentric circles. Drums beat, keeping time, keeping them in line.
    ‘So this guy, he straight?’ Beth asked, eventually.
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘Girlfriend?’
    A billboard image of Julia nuzzling up to Michael filled her head. Her perfect blonde hair, her perfect little upturned nose. Poppy screwed her eyes