Ravi re-took her hand, but she didn’t feel it. She wasn’t in her body any more, she was standing over there, that same hand around Ant’s throat. Tightening, tightening, squeezing it all out into Ravi’s fingers.
Ant seemed to sense this, taking one step back from her, almost tripping over the dog. Lauren hooked her arm through Ant’s again and locked their elbows together. A shield. But that wouldn’t stop Pip.
‘We used to be friends. Do you really hate me enough to want me to die?’ she said, the wind carrying her voice away from her.
‘What the fuck are you on about?’ Lauren spat, drawing more strength from Ant. ‘You’re a psycho.’
‘Hey,’ Ravi’s voice floated in from somewhere beside her. ‘Come on now, that’s not nice.’
But Pip had an answer of her own. ‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘So, you should make sure your doors are locked up real nice and tight at night.’
‘OK,’ Ravi said, taking charge. ‘We’re going this way.’ He pointed beyond Ant and Lauren. ‘You go that way. See you around.’
Ravi led her off-path, his fingers tight around hers, anchoring her to him. Pip’s feet were moving, but her eyes were on Ant and Lauren, blinking the moment they passed, shooting them with the gun in her chest. She watched over her shoulder as they moved away through the trees, in the direction of her house.
‘My dad said she was fucked up now,’ Ant said to Lauren, loud enough for them to hear, turning back to meet Pip’s eyes.
She tensed, her heels turning in the crisped-up leaves. But Ravi’s arm folded around her waist, holding her into him. His mouth brushing the hair at her temple. ‘No,’ he whispered. ‘You’re OK. They aren’t worth it. Really. Just breathe.’
So, she did. Concentrated only on air in, air out. One step, two step, in, out. Every step carrying her further away from them, the gun retreating back into its hiding place.
‘Should we go home?’ she said when it was gone, between breaths, between steps.
‘No,’ Ravi shook his head, staring straight ahead. ‘Forget about them. You need some fresh air.’
Pip circled his hot palm with her trigger finger, one way then the other. She didn’t want to say, but maybe there was no such thing in Little Kilton. No fresh air. It was all tainted, every breath of it.
They looked both ways and crossed the road to her house, the sun finding them again, warming their backs.
‘Anything?’ Pip smiled at Ravi.
‘Yes, anything you want,’ he said. ‘This is a full-on cheer-up Pip day. No true crime documentaries, though. Those are banned.’
‘And what if I said I really wanted a Scrabble tournament?’ she said, sticking her finger through his jumper into his ribs, their steps winding in and out of each other’s clumsily across the drive.
‘I’d say, Game on, bitch. You underestimate my pow—’ Ravi stopped suddenly, and Pip collided into him. ‘Oh fuck,’ he said, little more than a whisper.
‘What?’ she laughed, coming round to face him. ‘I’ll go easy on you.’
‘No, Pip.’ He pointed behind her.
She turned and followed his eyes.
There, on the driveway, beyond the pile of breadcrumbs, were three little chalk figures.
Her heart turned cold, dropped into her stomach.
‘They were here,’ Pip said, letting go of Ravi’s hand and darting forward. ‘They were just here,’ she said, standing over the little chalk people. The figures had almost reached the house now, scattered in front of the potted shrubs that lined the left side. ‘We shouldn’t have left, Ravi! I was watching. I would have seen them.’ Seen them, caught them, saved herself.
‘They only came because they knew you weren’t here.’ Ravi joined her, his breath fast in his chest. ‘And those definitely aren’t tyre marks.’ This was the first time he’d seen them. Time and rain had taken the last ones away before she’d had a chance to show him. But he could see them. He saw them and that made them real. She hadn’t made them up, Hawkins.
‘Thank you,’ Pip said, glad that he was here with her.
‘Looks like something out of the Blair Witch,’ he said, bending to get a closer look, drawing the criss-cross shapes with his finger, hovering a few inches above.
‘No.’ Pip studied them. ‘This isn’t right. There’s supposed to be five of them. There were five both other times. Why three now?’ she asked of Ravi. ‘Doesn’t make sense.’