Wild Things by Laura Kay

Author:Laura Kay [Kay, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2023-05-23T00:00:00+00:00

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Fortunately Mona must be spending the day haunting somewhere else, which means that I manage to sit at my desk with my eyes glazed over until around midday when I slope off to Pret and buy two jambon-buerres and a love bar and sit down to eat on the wall outside, unable to take another step. I barely taste the food, as though my body is deciding what is absolutely necessary to keep pushing through the tiredness—my taste buds didn’t make the cut. As I unwrap my second jambon-buerre and take a bite, I think that this must be what it’s like when you’re out in the wilderness, when food is simply fuel to survive. Ray hasn’t seen my message about coming out for lunch, which means she’s either swimming or dead. Either way, I go upstairs and put the love bar on her desk with a note saying, Hope you are alive.—E. Jamie is working from home today, otherwise I wouldn’t have dared. I haven’t replied to his message in the group calling Ray and me dirty stop-outs. I’ll deal with him later.

I spend the afternoon in the copier room napping in the corner. I’d like to say that it was a low point, but actually it’s the best part of my day. I get a solid two hours of sleep and feel significantly better when I come to. At quarter to five I head back up to my desk with a notebook and a highlighter clutched to my chest. I don’t know what I think I look like I’ve been doing, revising for my high school exams maybe. At five on the dot, I pack up my things and head downstairs. Ray was meant to finish work at four, so I’d assumed she’d have just headed home, but I’m thrilled to see her sitting in reception, her nose buried in a book that she’s nodding off into.

“What are you still doing here?” I ask. She looks up at me bleary-eyed; she’s wearing her glasses instead of her contact lenses, which means she really must be tired. Maybe because I’m delirious with exhaustion or maybe because I just want to, I reach out and touch her hair, pushing it back slightly. It’s too intimate a gesture to pass off as a friendly ruffling, too gentle. Ray smiles at me and briefly leans her head into my hand before getting up.

“I’m waiting for you,” she says. “And reading a book someone got me for Christmas.”

She waves it at me. I’d bought Ray a terrifying book that I had loved: it’s part psychological thriller, part horror, set in a small town in rural America. Ray’s not really a reader, but she has been dutifully carrying it around in her tote bag for the best part of eight months.

“Enjoying it?” I say as we head toward the doors, waving at Reggie, the security guard, as we go.

“Only a sadist would enjoy this, El.”

“Ah, yes,” I say, brushing past her as she opens the door for me, “that’s me.

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