‘Alright?’ Naomi asked her as she sat back down.
‘Yeah.’ Pip nodded, but her eyes were still watering. ‘No more for me.’ She pushed the food away and reached for Cara’s phone to check the time. It was 11:21 p.m. They should probably leave in the next ten minutes. ‘How about a McFlurry before we go?’ she said, thinking of that final charge on her card, another breadcrumb in the trail she was leaving for Hawkins.
‘I really couldn’t eat anything else.’ Cara shook her head. ‘I’ll be sick.’
‘Two McFlurries coming up.’ Pip stood, grabbing her purse. She added, under her breath, ‘To go. Or go in the bin when I drop you home.’
She waited in line again, shuffling a few steps forward at a time. She ordered the ice creams, told the cashier she didn’t care which flavour. She tapped her card to pay for them, that beep reassuring her. The machine was on her side, telling the world that she’d been right here, until gone eleven thirty. Machines didn’t lie, only people did.
‘Here we are,’ Pip said, passing the too-cold McFlurries into their hands, glad to be away from the smell of them. ‘Let’s go.’
They didn’t talk much on the way back either, driving the same A-roads in reverse. Pip wasn’t there with them any more, she’d moved forward in time, back to Green Scene Ltd and the river of blood on the concrete. Working through everything she and Ravi still had to do. Memorizing the steps, so nothing got forgotten. Nothing could be forgotten.
‘Bye,’ she said, almost laughing at how ridiculous and small the word sounded, as Cara and Naomi stepped out of her car, untouched ice creams still clutched in their hands. ‘Thank you. I… I can never thank you enough for… but we can never talk about it again. Never mention it. And remember, you don’t need to lie. I came here, made one phone call, then we drove to McDonalds, and I dropped you home after at,’ Pip checked the time on the dashboard, ‘11:51 p.m. That’s all you know. That’s all you say, if anyone ever asks you.’
They nodded. They got it now.
‘Will you be OK?’ Cara asked, her hand hesitating on the passenger door.
‘I think so. I hope so.’ The truth was, there were still so many things that could go wrong, then all of this would have been for nothing, and Pip would never be OK again. But she couldn’t tell them that.
Cara was still hesitating, waiting for a firmer answer, but Pip couldn’t give her one. She must have realized, reaching back inside to give Pip’s hand a squeeze before closing the door and walking away.
The sisters watched as Pip reversed out of their drive, one final wave.
OK, Pip nodded to herself, turning down the hill. Alibi: done.
She followed the moon and the plan, and in that moment, they were one and the same, taking her back home and to Ravi.
Her parents were already in bed by the time Pip got home, waiting up for her. Well, one half of them was.
‘I said don’t be too late,’ her mum hissed, squinting through the weak light given off by her bedside lamp. ‘We’re up at eight for Legoland.’
‘It’s only just gone midnight,’ Pip shrugged from their doorway. ‘Apparently late nights are a lot later than that at university. I’m in training.’
Her dad grunted from his half-sleep, book open and cradled on his chest.
‘Oh, and, just so you know, I lost my phone earlier,’ Pip whispered.
‘What, when?’ her mum said, trying and failing to keep her voice down.
Another grunt of agreement from her dad, no idea what it was he was agreeing with.
‘On my run, I think,’ Pip said. ‘Must have bounced out of my pocket and I didn’t realize. I’ll replace it next week, don’t worry.’
‘You need to be more careful with your things,’ her mum sighed.
Well, Pip was going to lose or break a lot more than just her phone tonight.
‘Yeah, I know. Adulting,’ she said, ‘training for that too. Anyway, I’m going to bed now. Night.’
‘Goodnight, sweetie,’ her mum said, an accompanying grunt from her dad.
Pip closed their door gently, and as she walked across the landing, she could hear her mum telling her dad to put the book down if he was already asleep, for goodness sake.
Pip stepped inside her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. Loudly – not loud enough to wake up an already grumpy Josh – but loud enough that her mum could hear her settling in for the night.
It smelled like bleach in here, and Pip checked inside her wardrobe, bending down to look into the bucket. Floating lumps of clothing and duct tape. She prodded her trainers back down, further into the liquid. The blue markings on their sides had begun to bleach to white, disappearing against the material. As had the bloodstains on the toes.