Chapter 1
Sarah
She was late. Again. Clutching a bottle of prosecco, she pressed the buzzer. A chirpy “Who is it?” made her heart beat fast.
“It’s Sarah.”
A click sounded and she pulled the front door open. Three flights of steps later, she finally arrived at 31A. The door opened blasting her with Usher’s Yeah. Amelia greeted her with a wide friendly smile.
“Sarah! Come in!”
“Thanks.”
She placed the bottle on the coffee table. Claire greeted her with a bear hug.
“I’m so glad you came. We didn’t think you’d make it.”
“Sorry I’m late.”
“I know. Do you want Prosecco or Bailey’s?”
“Prosecco would be good. Thanks.”
Claire passed her a cool bubbly glass. She sat next to Jane.
“Hi Jane. How are you?”
“I’m good. Thanks,” she frowned.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she looked down at her black boots.
Sarah removed her denim jacket and downed the whole glass.
“Jane, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“Really? Help me? Why don’t you ask yourself what help you need?”
Sarah stood up, nostrils flaring and hands on her hips. Jane stood up and stepped back.
“Fuck off Jane. I’m trying to help you. Why are you behaving this way?”
Jane moved a few steps forward.
“Because you keep talking behind my back, that’s why!
Claire hurried towards us, blonde hair fanning behind her. Her heart pendant swayed back and forth.
“Girls! Stop fighting! This is a celebration.”
She looked at us with that resting bitch face we’re all used to.
“Fine!”
Jane flopped down clutching a cushion. Sarah flailed her arms around whispering to Claire. She ignored the person sitting next to her. A hot seething anger ran through her body. Flash backs of happier times with Sarah replaced her anger with deep sadness. A warm arm wrapped around her shoulders.
“Alright Janey?”
Lizzie smiled compassionately. Her purple hair and nose ring made her look instantly cool.
“No, not really, but I’ll be alright.”
“If you need to talk, let me know.”
“Thanks Lizzie.”
A chocolate cake with a single candle emerged from behind the sofa. Claire started singing happy birthday and we all joined in.
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Amelia, happy birthday to you!”
Sarah filled everyone’s glass and drank the rest of the prosecco from the bottle. We clinked glasses and took a few sips. Claire passed around slices of cake on napkins. Jane moved over to sit on a sofa parallel to the one she was sitting on.
“What’s it like to be thirty, Amy?”
“Right now, it’s pretty good.”
She smiled warmly.
“Jane, are you free tomorrow?”
“I might be. I’ll ask Rose if still wants to go to the cinema.”
Her brown eyes lit up.
“What film are you going to watch?”
“The new Emma film. It has really good reviews.”
“OH! I love Emma, well, if you are free in the day, come and join us for a roast.”
“When are you going?”
“Not sure yet, bring Rose with you.”
“OK.”
Sarah ran to the bathroom and threw up. Claire ran after her.
“Sarah! Are you OK?”
She held her hair away from her face.
“Too much prosecco. I’ll be fine.”
“What do you need?”
“A greasy burger and a coke?”
She half joked and threw up.
“Tell me where you want to get it and I’ll go.”
“You’re too kind. No, don’t worry about it. I’ll get some on the way home.”
Claire grabbed a pink towel from the rail and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“OK, let me know if you need anything.”
She smiled weakly.
“Will do.”
The celebrations carried on for the next couple of hours with more drinking and more pizzas being ordered. Claire peaked her head into the bathroom.
“How are you doing?”
“I can’t stop throwing up and my stomach hurts. I think I’m going home.”
“Do you want me to call you a taxi?”
“That would be great Claire.”
“Calling one now.”
She pulled her phone from her back pocket and dialled 20 40 60. Amelia joined the crowd in the bathroom.
“How are you feeling Sarah?”
“Not so good.”
Amelia popped her head back in.
“The taxi is here. Get better Sarah”
Jane peaked in too and plastered on a smile.
“I hope you get better.”
Sarah eyed her up coldly.
“Thanks Jane.”
The party disintegrated when Sarah left. Jane and Lizzie shared a taxi. Claire was picked up by her husband.
Sunday was a warm day with a cool breeze blowing through the Windmill pub. Claire, Amelia, Lizzie and Jane ordered their roasts. Claire and Amelia ordered G and Ts, while Jane and Rose sipped on Mojitos. Lizzie sipped on a craft beer. Amelia checked on her phone and put it down on the table.
“Has anyone heard from Sarah?”
We all checked our phones. Claire frowned.
“No, not even a text. I hope she got home alright.”
Jane and Rose kissed briefly. Lizzie called Sarah and left a voicemail.
“Hey Sarah, I hope you’re OK. We’re here at the pub. Please call me back. Bye.”
She placed her phone on the table. Their roasts arrived hot and delicious. They dug in appreciating the crispy Yorkshire pudding and delicate meat that melted in the mouth. An hour later, they pushed their desserts plates forward and sighed. Amelia stood up and announced her next plan of the day.
“Let’s go to the beach!”
Claire joined her.
“Yes! The sun is still out. Let’s enjoy the day.”
Jane and Rose looked at each other.
“Sorry guys, we have a film to watch.”
They got up, put their coats on and hugged their friends.
Amelia’s phone rang. She didn’t recognise the number, but felt compelled to answer it.
“Hello?”
She cradled the phone under her chin while pulling on her pea coat.
“OMG! You have to come now!”
“Come where? Who are you?”
The caller sobbed uncontrollably.
“It’s Helen, Sarah’s flatmate. Was Sarah’s flatmate.” Claire tapped her on the shoulder. Amelia mouthed ‘wait’ to her. “You need to come over now.”
“Why Helen? Is she OK?”
“She’s …She’s dead.”
Amelia sat back down in her chair.
“What do you mean ‘she’s dead’?”
“Just come now.”
She hung up leaving Amelia feeling bereft.
Amelia and Claire huddled outside Sarah’s flat crying over each other’s shoulders. A short slim man with dark cropped hair approached them.
“I’m DS Scott. DI York informed me that you were friends with Miss Blake.”
Amelia took a deep breath before speaking.
“Yes, we were.”
“Alright. We’ve contacted her family. They’re on their way. If you’d like to join me to the police station, I’d like to take a statement from you too.”
“Of course.”
They rode in his black BMW in silence. The loss of their best friend weighed down on them as they gave their statements. Claire noticed a picture that was peeking out of a folder named Blake, S.
“Um, is that Sarah’s face?”
DS Scott closed his eyes and swore under his breath.
“Yes, it is.”
“Can we see it?”
“I’m not allowed to do that, madam.”
She pulled an arm around Amelia.
“Please, this would be the last time we would have see her.”
He pulled out a packet of Marlboro’s, removed one cigarette and lit it. Smoke circled around them making the glaring lights hazy. He pushed the folder towards them.
“Don’t open the file. Just pull out the picture.”
Amelia looked at Claire. She looked back at Amelia. They both leant forward with an index finger and coaxed the picture out. Amelia pulled back and muffled a scream with her hands. Claire was shaking, too in shock to say anything. They hugged each other and looked at the picture again.
“What…what is that?”
Amelia pointed at Sarah’s gaping mouth. DS Scott dragged a couple more times on the cigarette and threw the bud into a half drunk cup of tea.
“That is a black rose. Do you know the significance of it?”
“No, I don’t.”
“It’s a symbol of death and mortality. Or even hatred. Did she have any enemies?”
They looked at each other again. Claire seemed to have found her words.
“No, not really. Friends argue and get back together, you know. Nothing serious.”
He nodded.
“I see. Thank you ladies. If I have any more questions, I’ll give you a call.”
“Thank you detective.”
Amelia was wide awake at 1AM. All she could see was the pale face of Sarah, eyes open and her mouth filled with a single black rose. She could feel the thorns cut at her throat. The bitter taste of the petals. The cold dead eyes of her friend.
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