Trust No Bitch: Part 1

Alice Jenkins

Seconds after ending her FaceTime call with Gemma, Alice was already grabbing her bag, keys and a coat, pulling it around her as she ventured into the darkness outside. Earlier, it had been mild but as the night encompassed the grounds in its icy cloak, her breath became visible in the air in front of her. Every now and then, a flash of the argument she'd had with Cleo that the police interview had brought up would break the silence that lingered around her. Cleo's voice would punctuate her thoughts like an angry stab of a knife through a veil, ripping through delicate fabric.

"You are a liar. A slut. A worthless fucking whore."

Wasn't that what Cleo had said? Something along those lines. She opened the text from the Supplier on her phone again and glanced behind her, starting as a masked reveller broke from his group. The only other people she'd passed on the walk to Clara's, one of them shouted something incoherent in her face upon her turning back round to face the path in front of her.

"Arsehole." She said to herself as the costumed man disappeared into the night behind her with his friends, looking back at the message on her phone as she walked into Clara's building. The lights overhead that illuminated the hallways were flickering and every now and then a disjointed laugh would echo from around some corner. It gave the place an eeriness Alice had never noticed before, like some kind of decrepit carnival funhouse. Once she'd taken the stairs up to Clara's floor, It didn't take Alice long to find her; body slumped like a broken doll, she sat against her flat door, makeup smudged, vodka in hand. The bottle was vertical, its top in Clara's mouth and the liquid inside it rapidly tumbling down her throat. As Alice approached she noticed Rudy Willliams gallivanting about the corridor, clearly just as hammered as Clara, giving a unduly detailed commentary of the sex he just had with some second year to a man she didn't recognise. She thought he would make a remark about Clara but he and his friend instead halted outside another flat door. Alice took the opportunity to get Clara back into her flat as speedily as she could.

"Clara..." She said quietly, bending down so that their faces were level. "Why don't you give that to me?" She tried to take the bottle from Clara, whose head and eyelids were drooping.

"No." Clara growled, holding it towards her chest like a dog protecting its bone. Alice knew she needed to act with celerity but her efforts to guide Clara up were proving to be unavailing.

"Why don't you want to go in?" She whispered, tilting her head so that she could see Clara's eyes.

"I'll see her." Said Clara bluntly, her head falling into her knees.

"See who?"

"Cleo. I'll see Cleo."

"No Clara...you won't..." Alice said sadly, gripping onto Clara's arm and gingerly tugging her up, pulling at the door handle with her spare hand. It was quite an achievement, she thought as Clara brushed her off and threw her weight against her flat door, that Clara could stand at all. Alice watched her stumbling into her flat, biting down on her lip, uncertain of what to do next. Did she call Gemma for help? Or attempt to deal with Clara alone? She was so distracted that she didn't notice Rudy come up behind her.

"Wahey! Jenkins! Alright?" He murmured, his own eyes half shut, Alice starting.

"Oh! Hi, yes...Fine, thanks." She said weakly, glancing at him and crossing her arms to her chest.

"Your pal, Cleo, then. What about that?"

"Really, Rudy? She was our friend. Are you not familiar with the concept of sensitivity?" The shock of his presence had thrown Alice off balance but she was quickly becoming conversant with her dislike for the man-child that stood next to her.