Charley Chambers E-Book

Rachel Kennedy

• Herausgeber: Fledgling Press
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

Charley has always known that she's different - ever since she was small, strange things have happened around her - but it isn't until she meets high school heartthrob and the most popular kid in school, Aiden Cunningham, that she finally realises she isn't alone. Charley Chambers is magic. As Aiden begins to show Charley her full potential, she strikes up a friendship with the new kid, Marcus Gillespie. Marcus is dark, handsome and incredibly charismatic, but there is something odd about him, and Charley soon begins to realise that there might be more to him than meets the eye. Charley must learn who she can trust and who is out to deceive her. She knows one thing for certain, though. She will do absolutely anything to protect the people she cares about, even if it meancharles destroying others in the process.

Leseprobe

For my late grandmother Illeene MacLeod,

my inspiration when I was young,

and for my daughter Sian,

my inspiration always.

Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it

- Roald Dahl

CONTENTS

Fifteen Years Earlier

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Nine

Thirty

Thirty-One

Thirty-Two

Thirty-Three

Thirty-Four

Thirty-Five

Thirty-Six

Thirty-Seven

Thirty-Eight

Thirty-Nine

Forty

Forty-One

Forty-Two

Forty-Three

Two strong legs stood rigid on the soft mattress, bouncing softly as a pair of beady eyes stared through the wooden bars of the cot. Her small, chubby hands gripped on tightly as a stream of saliva flowed from her mouth, causing the neck of her babygro to dampen instantly. She’d woken from her nap early as usual. Her mother was downstairs and completely unaware, as the infant was yet to make a sound.

She scanned the room, big baby eyes taking in all the sights before her: the music box that Mama played every night before bed; the giant teddy which was too large to sleep with but great for daytime cuddles; the reindeer snow globe Gran had given her for Christmas. The same things she looked at every day after naptime. She smiled.

As she peered out from the enclosure, she noticed her pink rattle slowly making its way across the floor. She let out a giggle. It had never done that before. It rolled over to the teddy bear and stopped when it hit its foot. The teddy fell over. Another giggle.

She could hear the sound of Mum’s footsteps below, leaving the kitchen and heading for the stairs. Without warning, there was a loud crash as the picture that hung above her dresser came tumbling down, clattering off the floor and sending shards of glass all over the place. The snow globe fell next, shattering as it hit the hard surface, water exploding from its centre. Her music box did the same, slamming off the floor and breaking in two. The ballerina that turned ever so elegantly inside was twisted and bent.

No giggles.

The tiny one-year-old let out an ear-splitting shriek as she looked upon the mess in front of her.

‘Sweetheart, what’s wrong?’ The voice was muffled as her mother dashed for the stairs, heading quickly to her daughter’s bedroom. ‘Hey, honey, what’s the ma–?’

She stopped still as she surveyed the broken glass, the puddle of water, the battered music box. ‘Oh my word, what on earth happened, darling?’ Not expecting an answer, she scooped the child into her arms and took her downstairs, looking back, bewildered, at the disarray behind her.

The school bell gave off its piercing ring and a flurry of bodies hurried towards the entrance, some eager to return to class, most looking forward to sheltering from the rain that had been falling steadily for the past ten minutes.

Charley shrugged her shoulders and let out a sigh, forcing herself to walk slowly towards the doors. Her favourite time of the school day was over, the time where she could be alone, the time where she could just be Charley.

Charley Chambers wasn’t an ordinary teenager, she was magic. Rather, she had magical powers – of sorts. The only problem was, Charley didn’t know how to use them. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She was perfectly capable of releasing her powers, she just had no idea how to control them, which could occasionally get her into a bit of bother.

Okay, a lot of bother.

Like the time she set Mr Jenson’s trousers on fire, and the whole school had to wait outside for an hour until the fire brigade were sure it was safe. Or the time she knocked coffee into Shirley O’Donoghue’s lap from twenty yards away. Luckily the coffee was only lukewarm, but Charley – and the rest of her class – had had the great privilege of hearing Shirley whine about her ruined Gucci sweater for a month after.

The thing is, no one actually knew it was Charley doing all these things: causing accidents, spilling drinks, prompting Fred Anderson to walk in front of a bus – yes, that actually happened. He was all right, thankfully, but he had to spend a month at home encased in several different plaster casts while his bones fused themselves back together.

Might sound great, having magic, being able to make amazing things happen, being more powerful than everyone else at school. Well, everyone else, full stop. But for Charley, it was more like a nightmare. Every day she lived with the fear that someone would discover the truth, find out she was a freak. But even worse, she was terrified someone would get hurt again. Really hurt. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

‘Chambers? Gonna move from my seat?’ The harsh voice jolted Charley from her trance, causing the group of boys in front of her to fall about laughing. All but one.

‘Aiden . . .’ Charley stammered, collecting her things in a panic. ‘Sorry, I just . . . I didn’t even realise I was at the wrong desk. I’m sorry . . .’ More laughter erupted as she stuttered her apologies, fumbling over her books.

‘Shut up,’ Aiden snapped at the boys, causing the room to fall silent. ‘Stop whimpering and just move, yeah?’ He shot her a sarcastic smile as she manoeuvred herself from his chair.

‘Ignore them,’ Abbie snapped, her voice raised. ‘They’re just a bunch of lowlifes with nothing better to do.’

Abbie Gibbons was Charley’s best friend. Actually, she was more like Charley’s only friend. But she was a good one, and there for Charley no matter what.

‘You okay?’ she asked, swinging back on her chair so that it was balanced on just two legs. Her long, auburn hair was knotted tightly in a thick plait and hung casually over her left shoulder.

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ Charley smiled, trying her best to brush off the embarrassment of what had just happened.

‘Just checking. Why were you sitting in Aiden’s seat anyway?’

‘I dunno. I was too tired to think about it. I just sat at the first desk I came to.’

‘You not been sleeping again?’ Abbie questioned, blowing a sticky, pink bubble with the gum she’d been ferociously chomping on.

‘Not well,’ she admitted. ‘I’m knackered all day, then as soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m wide awake.’

‘Sod’s law.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘Is it still happening, you know . . . at night?’

‘It happens all the time, Abbs. I’m exhausted.’

Abbie had known about Charley’s magic for a while, ever since the time Charley had accidently turned her lemonade to ice just by touching the glass. She’d tried to make up some excuse about the fridge temperature being too low, but when the glass exploded in her hand, she knew she had some explaining to do. She’d been petrified, finally admitting her secret to someone. Turns out it was a good move; Abbie had never been anything but supportive towards her.

‘What happened?’

‘Nothing good, let’s put it that way.’ Abbie raised her eyebrows, obviously not satisfied with the vague reply. ‘I burst all the light bulbs. Mum thought we had a power cut, until she stood on the glass and sliced her foot open.’

‘Ouch.’

‘Yeah. And today they’re calling an electrician out to check all the wiring, which is costing them way more than it should, especially since there’s nothing wrong with it.’

‘You still don’t want to tell them?’

‘No way. Although I don’t know how much longer I can hide it. They already think the house is haunted.’

‘Really?’ Abbie snorted.

‘Well, not really. But they constantly talk about all the weird stuff that happens. This morning I made my breakfast disappear. Mum looked completely baffled, then told me I’d make myself sick if I ate too fast.’

‘You can actually make things disappear?’ Abbie raised her eyebrows.

‘Apparently so.’

‘How’d you do it?’

‘Not a clue.’

‘You didn’t do anything different or unusual?’

‘Like what?’

‘I dunno. Click your fingers, or . . . chant some magic words or something.’

Charley frowned. ‘Nope, pretty sure I didn’t snap my fingers together or cast a magic spell. I was picking up my spoon, for God’s sake.’

‘Picking a spoon up isn’t exactly out of the ordinary.’

‘I wouldn’t say so, no.’

‘Do something now,’ Abbie squeaked excitedly. She knew fine well Charley couldn’t, yet she asked almost every day.

‘You know I can’t.’

‘How do you know if you don’t try?’

‘Abbie . . .’

‘Come on. Just focus on something.’ She looked around, searching the classroom for the perfect object. ‘Cam’s water, see if you can knock it down.’ Cameron McCreery was one of the boys who had been mocking Charley just five minutes before.

‘I’m not spilling his water.’

‘Go on. You know you want to.’

‘No, I really don’t. And I can’t. Can we talk about something else, something normal?’

‘Spoilsport.’ Charley glared at her and Abbie held her hands up, backing down.

‘All right, you win. I’ll stop bugging you.’

There was a loud bang as the door slammed shut, Mrs Beattie strutting in quickly, her small heels clacking against the ground.

‘Quiet, please. Take out your reading books and continue from where you left off on Tuesday. I want silence for the next half hour.’

Mrs Beattie was their English teacher, tall, thin and incredibly pretty. She was also impatient, rude and terribly strict. ‘Charley, swap seats with Jonathan please.’

‘But Mrs . . .’

‘No buts. After the constant chatter between yourself and Abbie last class, I want you two separated. Now move.’

Charley turned to see Jonathan collecting his belongings, not happy at all about the switch. He and Abbie hated each other. They couldn’t stand being in the same room, never mind sitting in neighbouring chairs. Even worse, his current seat was next to Aiden, who looked just as unhappy as she felt about the whole situation.

‘Can’t stay away, can you?’ Aiden smirked as she took her seat.

‘Oh no, you’re just far too dreamy,’ she said sarcastically, and he laughed as if he hadn’t been expecting an answer back.

‘Well, I can’t argue with you there.’

‘Are we interrupting something?’ Mrs Beattie snapped, annoyed at being disturbed in her classroom.

‘No, sorry,’ Charley said quietly.

‘If you can’t stop talking, Miss Chambers, you’ll be working outside from now on. Book open, now.’ She did as she was told, feeling foolish yet again.

She took out her book and opened it, flicking through to find where they’d left off.

‘Uh oh,’ she said to herself as she stared down at the blank pages. Something told her she’d had something to do with it, how she’d done it though was a mystery. Every page in the book was bare, the front and back cover still intact. She couldn’t show Mrs Beattie, how would she explain what had happened?

‘Excuse me, Mrs Beattie. I can’t find my book,’ she said as she slipped it back into her bag. Aiden frowned as he watched her hide it, wondering what she was up to.

‘For goodness sake, Charley, are you going to be anything but a hassle today? Go along to the library and ask for a copy, and when you come back, continue to work outside. You’re giving me a headache.’

The rest of English was pretty uneventful. Charley had managed to collect her book and return to class – well, outside the class – without anything disastrous happening. She’d knocked over a stack of magazines, but there was no magic involved, just her lack of coordination and unsteady hands. She was now sitting in her last class, impatiently watching the clock and willing the bell to ring.

‘Charley, would you like to read now, please?’ She looked up, pulled from her daydream by the stout, grey-haired woman who stood before her.

Mrs Macarthur was her history teacher, a lovely but very ditsy lady who’d been showing her age for quite some time.

‘Sorry, I was just . . . where are we?’

‘Charley, you must pay attention. Page forty-four, half way down. “On his return to Scotland . . .”’

‘I will, sorry.’ She began reading. Although the words came out clearly from her mouth, her mind wandered away someplace else. Somewhere without books or teachers or students giving her funny looks.

‘Oh my God!’

‘What’s happening?’ Shouts and screams came from all over the room, bringing Charley back to reality. She looked up, and to her horror she saw dust and plaster falling from above her, the ceiling caving in before her eyes.

She started shaking her head. ‘This can’t be happening. Is this . . . no, I can’t be doing this.’

‘Charley! Hurry up,’ Lucy Wheeler called from the door. Everyone was making for the exit, including a shaken Mrs Macarthur. She was waving her arms about, wailing as she scrambled towards the door.

‘Charley, dear, get a move on.’ But Charley stood rigid. She felt as though she was glued to the spot, watching the interior collapse around her.

‘Charley!’ Lucy called again. ‘Charley, come on!’

‘I have to stop this, I have to do something.’ Her head was spinning. Was it all her fault?

‘Honey, let’s go.’ Lucy was now at her side, clutching her hand. ‘We need to go.’ And with that, she pulled Charley forcibly towards the door, giving her no choice but to stumble out of the crumbling classroom.

‘Thank goodness,’ Mrs Macarthur gasped as the girls tumbled into the corridor. ‘Everyone, make your way downstairs in a quick but orderly fashion. Stay together once you’re outside.’ She was trying to keep calm, but the waver in Mrs Macarthur’s voice gave away how worried she was.

Teachers from the neighbouring classes had come out to see what all the commotion was about, and after seeing the destruction they were now ushering their own pupils outside in single file. It wasn’t long before the entire school had been evacuated and the students were huddled together in the pick-up zone, squashed against each other like sardines in a can.

‘Bit much drama for one bloody classroom,’ Abbie barked, pushing her way through the crowd and stopping just behind Charley.

‘Charles, what’s eating you?’ It was a nickname that had grown on Charley since Abbie had first started using it. Somehow, it seemed completely normal now.

‘You didn’t see it, Abbie, it was awful.’

‘Hey, what’s up? You look terrible.’

‘I think it was my fault.’

‘Don’t be stupid, no way could you have done that.’

‘Why not? We don’t know what I’m capable of.’

She glanced at Charley and the look she saw on her face sent shivers up Abbie’s spine. ‘Come on,’ she said, pulling at Charley’s arm.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Away from here.’

The two girls walked along the street, not in any particular direction.

‘So you gonna tell me what that was about?’ Abbie asked eventually. ‘You totally freaked out.’

‘What if that was me, Abbie? What if I did that?’

‘Come on, you don’t know anything so don’t go blaming yourself.’

‘But if it was? I could’ve killed someone.’

‘But you didn’t. You gotta stop beating yourself up when something like this happens. That school is a shambles, it’s like a million years old. It probably had nothing to do with you.’ Her words were kind, but they fell upon deaf ears. All Charley could think about was the fact that it might have been her fault, and despite what Abbie said, probably was.

‘You’re right,’ Charley whispered unconvincingly, ‘I’ll stop blaming myself.’

‘No, you won’t. But I’m glad you’re at least trying to lie to me.’ The girls smiled at one another and Charley linked her arm through Abbie’s, grateful she had someone so understanding to turn to. But things had to change. How could she be around other people when there was a risk of them getting hurt?

‘I need to do something.’

‘Something as in . . .?’ Abbie pressed, having no idea what Charley was talking about.

‘I need to work out what powers I have. I‘ve got to find out how to use them.’

‘Charles, you’ve said this before, many times. And every time you’ve tried you’ve failed miserably.’

‘And then I just give up.’

‘You don’t give up, you just . . . run out of leads. Look, I know I joke with you, but how is this time gonna be any different?’

Charley sighed. ‘It just will. It has to be.’

‘I still say it was the school’s fault, dude.’

Charley barely said a word at dinner as she sat pushing her lasagne around the plate. Her sister, Jessica, was sitting next to her, occasionally – and deliberately – kicking her beneath the table. Charley didn’t notice.

‘Honey, are you all right?’ her mum asked, offering her the garlic bread. Charley shook her head to refuse and continued to play with her food.

‘I’m fine.’

‘You haven’t said a word since you came home, and you clearly aren’t hungry.’

‘I had a massive lunch,’ she said blankly, hardly hearing her mother’s words.

‘Why don’t you leave it in the oven then? You can have it later.’

‘Okay. May I leave the table?’

‘Of course, pet. But you would tell me if something was bothering you?’

‘Sure, Mum. I’m fine, honestly. Anyway, I have loads of homework.’

‘All right, on you go.’

‘Can I leave the table?’ Jess pouted, the half-eaten lasagne sitting in front of her.

‘Finish your tea.’

‘But how come Charley gets to leave?’

‘Because I said so. Now eat your food.’ Although she didn’t know about Charley’s magic, Linda Chambers knew her daughter was different. And she worried about her constantly.

When Charley was safely inside her bedroom, she sank to the floor and sighed. The day had been too much for her and she felt utterly exhausted. Abbie was always brilliant, but she could never understand completely how helpless Charley felt. Having powers was meant to be a gift. To Charley, they seemed more like a curse.

She sat with her head buried in her hands for the next hour or so, her legs pulled in close so that her chocolate-brown hair spilled over her knees. Eventually, she climbed up from the floor and took out her laptop, settling herself on the bed as it started up. Once it was ready, she opened up the internet browser and began typing the usual things she searched for: moving objects, breaking things without touching them, mind control.

The same links came up as always: telekinesis, psychokinesis, you’reafreak.com. Okay, that one didn’t really pop up, but it was how she felt.

Closing down the page in defeat, she picked up the phone and dialled.

‘Hello,’ came the familiar voice at the other end of the line.

‘Gran? It’s me . . . I really need to talk to you.’

Dorcas Blightly lived in a small cottage with her two cats, Mosley and Bap. Charley adored them; she’d always loved animals but had never been allowed a pet of her own.

‘Get a black cat,’ Abbie had always joked, as if she were some sort of witch – though the idea wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility.

Dorcas watched out the window as her eldest granddaughter raced up the path. Before she could heave herself from the chair, there were three loud raps at the door.

‘Come in, darling,’ she said once she eventually reached the door, ushering the young girl inside.

‘I’m sorry to just appear like this. I just need–’

‘Charley, don’t be so silly. You can always talk to me.’

‘I don’t know what to do, Gran. It’s getting out of control.’

‘All right. Start from the beginning.’

Charley spoke for what felt like a lifetime, telling her gran everything there was to tell. She knew she was taking a huge risk, confessing her secret to someone so close, but she felt she had no choice.

‘Charley, have you ever heard of telekinesis?’

‘I’ve read about it, but I don’t really understand it all,’ she replied honestly.

Dorcas hesitated. ‘Well, my mother, your great-grandmother, she was what you would call telekinetic.’

‘Wasn’t she the crazy one?’ Charley asked, immediately feeling bad. Dorcas laughed, feeling a sudden rush of sympathy for her mother.

‘Not my words,’ she said gently. ‘She wasn’t crazy. She was like you, always making things happen without any explanation as to how.’

‘What did she do?’ Charley asked, her interest piqued. ‘Did she manage to stop them – her powers?’

‘No, she couldn’t make them go away. But she learned how to manage them.’

‘How?’

‘Charlotte, I’m afraid there is no easy cure. She simply had to teach herself. It took a great deal of time and effort, but eventually she began to understand her abilities.’

Charley’s heart sank. ‘You mean I have to learn on my own? How can I do that when I don’t know why it happens? What if I end up hurting someone, Gran? I’ve done it before. What if it’s worse this time?’

‘I can’t give you all the answers, dear. I can only tell you what I know. But one thing’s for sure, you’ll find a way. Trust me, I know my granddaughter.’

‘And if I don’t?’

‘You will.’ There was no point in arguing. The trip had been about as useful as a chocolate teapot. Maybe she would get a black cat after all.

Charley stayed off school the following day, telling her parents she had a migraine. Her mum told her to go back to bed, though dubious of her daughter’s sudden strange behaviour.

‘Honey, I’ve brought you some tea and biscuits,’ Linda called at just after ten.

No answer.

She pushed open the door to find Charley in bed, the covers pulled tightly over her head. ‘Sweetheart, I’ve made you a drink.’

‘Thanks,’ came a muffled reply from under the quilts.

‘Head still sore?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Have you taken any painkillers?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Charley, are you sure nothing else is bothering you? Is it what happened at school yesterday?’ Despite the ceiling caving in, the school was still open as normal, the history department out of bounds while it was being repaired.

‘What? How do you know about that?’ Charley gasped, suddenly jumping out from under the sheets.

‘Why wouldn’t I know?’

‘Have you spoken to Gran?’

‘Charley, what’s got into you? The ceiling of your history class collapsed, all the parents were informed.’

‘Oh,’ she whispered, realising she’d got the wrong end of the stick. Her secret was still safe.

‘Is that what’s wrong? Maybe you have a concussion. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?’

‘No, Mum.’

‘It could be post-traumatic stress. Maybe we should go see a doctor.’

‘Mum, I’m not a baby. I didn’t hit my head and I’m not traumatised. I have a migraine.’ Charley didn’t want to lie to her mum, and she definitely didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but what else could she do? ‘I’m sorry, okay? I just feel really lousy today. Would you mind if I went back to sleep?’

Linda gave up, realising she wasn’t going to get anywhere. ‘Of course, darling. Just give me a shout if you want anything.’

‘I will.’

Abbie sat in her usual seat, preparing herself for another one of Mrs Beattie’s horrendous classes.

‘Hey, where’s your loser pal today?’ called a voice from the back of the class. It was Gary Bishop, a complete jerk and friend of Aiden Cunningham.

‘Get lost, asshole,’ she snapped, as a load of hissing came from the back.

‘No need to be rude. Just wondered where your freaky friend was, that’s all.’ A couple of them joined in, laughing as they made jokes at Charley’s expense.

‘Enough,’ Aiden barked. He was sitting in his chair, doodling something on a piece of paper. He looked just as moody as he always did.

‘We’re only having a laugh,’ Gary smirked. ‘What, do you fancy her or something?’ The boys just about wet themselves laughing at the very thought.

‘I said, enough,’ Aiden replied through gritted teeth, getting up and heading for the door just as Mrs Beattie arrived.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’

‘I’m leaving.’

‘You most certainly are not!’ she exclaimed as he marched out of the classroom.

‘I think he most certainly is,’ Cam laughed, causing giggles to erupt from across the room. Mrs Beattie’s anger was evident, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Abbie decided it would be fitting if steam were to start surging from her ears.

‘Open your books and start reading. NOW!’

Aiden stormed down the hallway and out the double-doors that led to the staff car park. His friends could really get to him sometimes, and this time they’d pushed him over the edge.

With a surge of anger, he swept his hand through the air in front of him. He watched the little blue Nissan Micra rock from side to side, the windows shattering instantly. He walked up to the wreck and this time, with no magic involved, began to kick the car repeatedly with his steel toe-cap boot. Once he was finished, he gave it a last jolt, causing the registration plate that read B34TT1E to break in two. As he stalked off, he turned back and glanced at the security camera which was camouflaged on top of a lamppost. It exploded, and he smiled as he continued on his journey away from the school grounds.

At three o’clock, Charley pushed back the covers and stared up at the ceiling, hoping that this one wouldn’t come down on top of her. She was done sulking. It wasn’t doing anyone any good and it certainly wasn’t making her feel any better.

She sat up, scanning the room for something she could use. Her eyes settled on the wooden photo frame that held a picture of herself, Jess and her parents. Concentrating, she fixed her gaze on the frame, pouring all her energy into what she was trying to do. After what felt like a lifetime, she gave in, letting out a huge sigh of disappointment and flopping back on the bed. Why couldn’t she do it? Surely if she had the ability to make things move, it couldn’t be that hard to do it as and when she wanted to? Apparently it was.

She manoeuvred herself out of bed and raced down the stairs.

‘Mum, I’m going out,’ she called, flinging her coat and shoes on.

‘Charley, you’ve been off sick. I really think it would be a good idea for you to stay indoors.’

‘I’m not sick, I had a headache. It’s gone now.’

‘I’m afraid my answer’s still no.’

‘Mum, I need to . . .’

‘Charley, I don’t know what has got into you today, or last night for that matter, but my word is final. You’re not to go out. Now let’s drop it, please.’

‘Fine, all right. I won’t go out.’ Linda looked at her for a second, wary of her daughter’s sudden surrender, but when Charley began to take her coat off and kick her shoes away, Linda smiled, happy that she was finally doing as she was asked.

‘Thank you,’ she breathed, relieved that there hadn’t been more of a fight. Charley smiled sweetly and wandered through the living room and into the hall.

‘Charley, don’t you dare,’ Linda yelled, suddenly realising what she had planned. As she looked out from the front door, she could see Charley racing down the street, almost out of view, in just her T-shirt, jeans and bare feet.

By the time Charley reached the end of the road, her feet were bleeding from repeatedly pounding the pavement’s hard, uneven surface. She used the cobblestone wall next to her to balance as she picked what seemed to be a sharp piece of glass from one of her toes.

‘Looks sore,’ said a familiar voice.

‘Aiden . . . what are you doing here?’

‘Walking. You?’

‘Erm . . . running, I guess.’ She straightened herself, aware of how ridiculous she must have looked.

‘Who you running from?’ he asked sceptically.

‘My mum. She wouldn’t let me out. I was off sick.’

‘I noticed.’ There was an awkward pause as they both tried not to look at one another. ‘You have no shoes on.’

‘Nope,’ she answered, not sure what else to say.

‘Dare I ask why?’

‘I wouldn’t . . . I mean . . . it’s not important. Why are you talking to me anyway?’

‘What?’

‘Why are you talking to me? It’s bad for your reputation to be seen talking to a freak, you know.’

‘Who said you were a freak?’

‘Your friends . . .’ She looked down at her bare feet. ‘I’m probably not helping my case, running about the streets with no shoes on.’

He was quiet for a moment, before saying, ‘We all have our reasons. Listen, I have to go just now.’

‘Oh, okay. Well . . . bye.’

‘See ya, Chambers.’

‘Bye,’ she said again.

And then he was gone.

‘He actually said, “See ya.”? Like, he used your name?’

‘Well, he used my last name. But he was . . . different.’

‘You mean he wasn’t an asshole?’

‘No, he was . . . nice.’

‘Don’t think I’ve ever heard Aiden described as nice before.’

‘Amazing, isn’t it?’

She’d arrived at Abbie’s shortly after her encounter with Aiden. After cleaning up her foot and making tea for the two of them, Abbie had ushered Charley through to the living room to hear all about the meeting with – in her words – Newford’s ‘number one wanker’.

‘So what else happened?’

‘That was about it,’ Charley replied, shrugging her shoulders as she took a large gulp of tea. ‘We spoke for about two minutes, then he said he had to go.’

‘That’s a bit dull.’

‘What did you want to hear?’

‘I dunno. That you zapped him with your superhuman powers or something. Now that would’ve livened things up a bit.’

‘Superhuman powers I don’t know how to use. Helpful.’

‘You’ll figure it out one day,’ Abbie replied nonchalantly, helping herself to a chocolate biscuit from the tin she’d brought through.

‘I thought you said I was never going to work it out?’

Abbie laughed, choking on her biscuit. ‘Honestly, Charles, I lose track.’

‘Uch, I’m doomed,’ Charley replied dramatically.

‘Have faith, woman. If it happens, it happens. Now, enough magic talk. You have an essay for Mrs Beastly to do.’

‘I do?’

‘Yep. For tomorrow. I was told to “make sure you were aware of this”. I did say you were sick, but she was having none of it.’

‘Have you done yours?’

‘Hell no. I plan to do it later using my good friend, Mr Google, and his two friends, Mr Copy and Mr Paste.’

‘Ah, of course.’ Charley giggled.

The girls spent the next two hours completing Charley’s half-hearted attempt at an essay on contemporary playwrights. Abbie spent most of the time as she’d promised, copying and pasting large chunks of text to use later in her own assignment. Once Charley had what she said ‘would do’ down on paper, she gathered her things up and began preparing for the inevitable – facing her mother.

‘Will she be mad?’ Abbie asked as she flung a cardigan at Charley’s head.

‘Thanks. Eh, I dunno. She might be to start with, but you know what she’s like. Nice as pie once you shed a tear or two.’

‘You devious little bugger,’ Abbie laughed, this time throwing a pair of trainers Charley’s way. ‘Borrow them, too. Can’t have you walking back with no shoes on – people will start to think you’re weird.’

‘Bit late for that.’

‘Weird is better than ordinary. Ordinary’s boring.’

‘Sometimes I don’t think boring would be that bad.’

‘Trust me, normal’s overrated. You’re special, Charles.’

‘Well, thank you. Your words mean the world,’ Charley replied sarcastically. ‘I gotta go. See you tomorrow.’

‘Yup. In the words of Aiden Cunningham, see ya, Chambers.’

As Charley turned the handle to the front door, she readied herself for a rollicking. Her mother was as soft as butter most of the time, but in circumstances like these, she could be quite scary. She pushed open the door and slowly stepped inside, scanning the empty room.

‘Mum?’

‘Yes?’ The voice came from the kitchen.

‘I’m back,’ Charley said as she wandered through to where her mother was washing up dishes.

‘Okay.’ So it was the silent treatment she was getting.

‘Mum, I know you’re angry–’

‘I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed.’ Charley’s face fell.

‘Mum! Disappointed is so much worse than angry. Can’t you just yell at me?’ Charley petted her lip.

‘No, I can’t. Because I am disappointed. I’m disappointed that you disobeyed me and I’m hurt that you lied to me.’

‘I’m sorry . . .’

‘That’s the thing, Charley. I don’t think you are. I’m going for a bath before I start dinner. I would say stay indoors, but what would be the point in that?’

After two weeks of apologies, flowers and doing endless chores, Linda finally gave in and forgave Charley for disobeying her. She hadn’t been mad that Charley had left the house when she’d been told to stay indoors – not really – and she wasn’t even too bothered that her daughter had lied to her; she was a teenager, lying to their parents was what they were supposed to do. She was simply worried. She knew something was . . . unusual about Charley, and she would do anything in her power to protect her.

‘You coming to mine tonight?’ Abbie asked as they made their way home from school. They’d taken the slightly longer route past Bryan’s Bakery, something Abbie always insisted on doing.

‘I dunno, I guess so.’

‘Well that’s enthusiasm for you,’ Abbie replied sarcastically.

‘Sorry, I just thought we could go out. I’ve been stuck in my house all week and it’s driving me crazy.’

‘Yes, but you won’t be in your house, will you? You’ll be in mine. And besides, my mum’s going out, so we’ll have the place to ourselves.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Charley grinned. ‘We could raid her booze cupboard, help ourselves to a beer or two.’ She was only joking, but the smile on Abbie’s face implied she had other ideas.

‘Charles, you rebel! Two whole beers? I mean, maybe one . . . but two? You might end up drunk.’

‘Shut up,’ Charley laughed, hitting her friend on the arm a little harder than intended. ‘You know what my mum thinks about alcohol.’

‘You can stay over, problem solved. Anyway, that’s not even what I had planned. I was thinking we could maybe play about with your magic?’

‘Abbie, no. I can’t.’

‘But you never try.’

‘I have tried.’

‘Like, once. Come on, I bet we can make it work. You always struggle on your own, but you’ll have me there as your guide. We can do a Ouija board, or a séance!’

‘Isn’t that to summon spirits? I don’t think that would help.’

‘Well, we can Google it. I promise, we’ll get it to work. Please, let’s just try.’ Abbie gave Charley her famous puppy-dog eyes, knowing full well it never failed to get her what she wanted.

‘Argggh, fine. But if nothing happens this time, you stop badgering me, okay?’

‘Absolutely, yes! Deal.’ She excitedly held out her hand to shake on it and Charley reluctantly accepted, secretly cursing her persistent friend. She knew how the evening would go, but if it meant finally getting a bit of peace from Abbie, she would indulge her.

‘Hello, darling,’ Linda said cheerfully as Charley came bounding through the door, tripping over a pair of boots. ‘Oh dear, are you all right?’

‘I’m fine,’ she replied, shoving her dad’s large walking shoes to the side with her foot. ‘How’s your day been?’

‘Oh, you know. Work was busy, one of the temps is off with flu, so it’s been hectic. How was school?’

‘Dull.’

Linda smiled. ‘Surprise, surprise.’

‘I’m going to stay with Abbie tonight.’

‘All right, honey. Will Carol be in?’

‘Yes, her mum will be there.’ Charley rolled her eyes.

‘I was only asking. Try to behave, okay?’

‘Always do,’ Charley beamed, kissing her mother on the cheek and dashing upstairs to pack a bag.

She walked into her room, surprised to find her sister perched on the end of her bed, raiding one of her jewellery boxes.

‘Jess? What are you doing?’

‘Looking for clasps. I lost all mine.’ Her eyes were red and they looked sore, as if she might have been crying.

‘Jess, what’s wrong? You okay?’

‘Fine. I just need a Kirby grip,’ she snapped, her voice hoarse.

‘All right, but there’s none in there. Here.’ Charley fished a new strip from her top drawer and handed them to Jess, who quickly snatched them from her hand. She picked herself up and scurried out the room without another word.

‘You’re welcome!’

Charley arrived at Abbie’s house just after six, laden with bags.

‘Christ, how long you staying for, a fortnight?’ Abbie joked as she helped her friend inside.

‘Very funny. I brought crisps and chocolate. Oh, and marshmallows. We can toast them on your fire.’

‘Oooh, yeah! We could do that when we’re having the séance.’

‘We are not having a séance.’

‘Uch, you’re boring, Charles.’

‘I’m here, aren’t I? I’m letting you have your fun.’

‘I guess. Come on, I’ve made something for us,’ Abbie said as she pushed Charley into the kitchen. ‘Cocktails!’

‘Really, Abbs?’

‘Oh, lighten up. There’s hardly any booze in them. It’s mostly fruit juice.’ Charley guessed this probably wasn’t true, but decided to have it anyway. One wouldn’t hurt.

Abbie picked up one of the glasses and Charley did the same, toasting her friend before taking a large gulp.

‘Shit!’ Abbie yelled, causing Charley to nearly choke on her drink.

‘Bloody hell!’ Charley took in Abbie’s wet clothes and studied the glass which was scattered across the floor. ‘What happened?’

‘My glass smashed!’ Abbie grinned.

Charley frowned and said, ‘Why are you smiling?’

‘Because, you just used magic.’

‘What, you’re saying that was me?’ Charley shook her head.

‘Of course, it’s not like you’ve never done that trick before.’

‘Abbie . . .’

‘These glasses are solid, there’s no way I could’ve done that.’ She took Charley’s glass and began squeezing it, proving that there was no way to smash it using just her hands. ‘See? It’s way too thick.’

‘Well if it was me, it wasn’t intentional.’

‘Yeah, I know. But it’s a good start. Now we have something to work with.’ Charley sighed. Maybe the evening wasn’t going to go exactly as she’d thought.

By nine o’clock, Abbie had managed to devour another four cocktails and was beginning to slur her words. Charley had indulged her by having another one, but had stuck to tea after that. They’d spent an hour experimenting, seeing if they could get Charley’s magic to work again, but it was no use – the earlier incident seemed to have been a fluke. It didn’t look as though any other magic was going to take place that night.

‘This sucks,’ Abbie muttered, shoving a marshmallow she’d been toasting into her mouth. ‘Bloody hell, that’s hot!’

‘Let it cool down first.’ Charley bit her tongue to stop herself laughing, but she couldn’t help it. She let out a giggle, causing Abbie to look at her, unimpressed.

‘Ith not funna,’ Abbie spat, unable to speak properly with a mouth full of hot goo.

‘It’s hilarious. I’m sorry, I’ll stop.’ Charley sat, face straight, for all of ten seconds before she let out another snort of laughter.

‘If you were any good at controlling your magic, you could’ve cooled that down for me.’ Abbie took a generous gulp of water, finally swallowing the scalding sweet.

‘Well, we’ve definitely established that I’m not good at controlling it.’

‘Come on, Charles. Let’s make this happen. Think of all the things we could do.’

‘We?’ Charley gave her an inquisitive look.

‘Oh, you know what I mean. You could be fabulous.’

‘I’m already fabulous,’ Charley grinned, flicking her hair back in as glamorous a manner as she could.

She finished the rest of her tea while Abbie sipped what she’d promised would be her final cocktail of the night. Just as Charley got to her feet to take her mug to the kitchen, the doorbell went, giving her such a fright she dropped it on to the soft, green carpet.

‘Good thing that was empty,’ Abbie smiled jokingly, looking round at the numerous stains that were scattered across the floor. Neither Abbie nor her mother were the most careful of people, always spilling drinks or knocking things over.

Charley made her way to the front door, unlatching the chain and pulling it open.

‘That’s weird,’ she called, hanging out to get a better view, ‘there’s no one here.’

‘It’ll be the kids next door – they’re always playing chappy, little buggers. Get lost, weasels!’ Abbie yelled without budging from her spot.

‘Weasels?’

‘Their surname’s Weisel,’ she smiled, ‘but I prefer weasel.’

‘Oh, so it is. Lovely,’ Charley giggled as she shut the front door. Before she could stop it, it swung back, smacking her in the face and causing her to let out a yelp.

‘What’s wrong?’ Abbie gasped, stumbling to her feet.

‘Did I do that?’

‘Did you do what? Jesus Christ, Charles, your nose is bleeding.’ Charley put her hand to her nose, smiling as the blood began to retreat backwards, inside her nostrils.

‘Is it working?’ Charley asked, impatient for an answer.

‘Bloody hell! Are you doing that?’ her friend asked, staring open-mouthed as the last drop of blood disappeared.

‘That was me, Abbie, I did that! And I actually meant for it to happen.’

The girls stood in silence, Abbie gaping awkwardly at Charley’s now spotless face. Her nose was already beginning to bruise, proving that the incident had really happened and it wasn’t all in their minds.

‘I can’t believe it,’ Charley mumbled, ‘I could feel it, the control, I knew exactly what I was doing.’

‘This is insane,’ Abbie choked, excitement beginning to build up inside her. ‘Do it again.’

‘I don’t know if I can.’

‘What do you mean? You finally managed to do it. This is a major breakthrough.’

‘I know it is, but I’m still not sure.’ She focused on the first thing that came into view: a picture of an Italian town, hanging alone on Abbie’s wall. She tried to concentrate, to make something – anything – happen. But it didn’t move. ‘See.’

‘What do you mean, see? Look!’ Abbie pointed at the picture, staring in amazement as the colour began to drain from it.

‘Wow, I didn’t . . . I mean I can’t have. I didn’t feel a thing.’

‘Maybe you still need to work on it.’

‘Ugh, let’s face it,’ Charley sighed, ‘I’m screwed.’

Abbie nodded, folding her arms and said, ‘Yeah you are, my mum loves that painting.’

‘Charley, what a nice surprise. Do come in, pet.’ Charley followed the hunched old lady into her small sitting room, taking a seat once she was inside. The television was on in the corner, volume blaring as usual. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m okay thanks, Gran. Actually, there’s a reason I came. It’s about the . . . my, eh, my powers.’

Dorcas looked sceptical. ‘Yes?’

‘The other night, I did something, something I’ve never done before.’

‘Well go on then, dear. What was it?’

‘I used my magic, but not by accident. I made something happen.’ Dorcas continued to watch her, not seeming particularly startled by what she’d just heard.

‘And what did you do?’

‘Well, it’s a bit odd.’

‘You’re talking about magic, Charley. Of course it seems odd.’

‘I was at Abbie’s. We were messing about, usual stuff. Anyway, I got hit in the face with a door.’

‘Is that where the swollen nose came from?’ Dorcas pointed an arthritic finger towards Charley’s face.

‘Yeah, it was a lot worse than this. But when it actually happened, my nose started bleeding. I somehow managed to stop it – the blood started flowing back inside my nose.’

‘And you were in control of this?’

‘Yes, I knew exactly what I was doing, it was unreal. Then I drained a picture of its colour, but that wasn’t on purpose.’

‘Well, it will take time. But it’s a good step forward.’

‘You don’t seem all that surprised.’

‘Truthfully, Charley, I’m not. I had a feeling this would happen a lot sooner than you expected. You’re a clever girl.’

‘I thought you said it was just telekinesis?’

‘Well, I did, but–’

‘Gran, you talk about it as though it’s all completely normal. I’m . . . strange.’

‘You’re not strange, dear, you’re special,’ Dorcas said sternly.

‘That’s just a nice way of saying strange. I’m weird, Gran, I’m a freak. I’m not normal!’

With her final outburst, they heard a loud explosion, followed by sparks and crackling. Charley dived at her gran, immediately wanting to protect her as smoke poured from the old television set.

‘Oh my God, Gran, I’m so sorry.’

Dorcas spoke through heavy coughs. ‘It’s all right, I needed a new one anyway.’

Once again, weeks went by without any strange occurrences. Charley hadn’t managed to use her powers again. In fact, nothing magical had happened recently, not even accidentally. She’d felt exhausted since the night at Abbie’s and hadn’t been up to doing much since; somehow the whole experience seemed to have left her feeling drained, physically and emotionally.

Aiden had gone back to his usual sullen self. They’d shared an awkward hello at one point, but that was as far as it had gone. Charley wasn’t sure if she was glad or disappointed.

Abbie’s mum had gone mad when she discovered her missing painting of the beaches of Ischia. The girls had had to get rid of it – they couldn’t exactly explain how it had somehow gone from beautifully bright to completely colourless in the time that she’d been away.

They’d removed the picture and replaced it with something similar that they’d printed from Abbie’s computer, but her mum didn’t buy it. She told Abbie she would have to earn the money to pay for a new one, with Charley insisting that she would of course give every penny back.

On the Monday morning, Charley strolled unenthusiastically into her temporary history class.