Trust No Bitch: Part 2

Clara Wright

Cleo had cried. She had fucking cried. What have you done? Clara asked herself as her, Gemma, Lilly and Alice, sat in a nearby coffee shop, discussing what Neil had told them, what they would do next. But Clara couldn't think about any next. Just about the last part of Neil's story, Cleo, walking towards him, crying. That's what he swore, anyway. But why? Was it because she had realised that it wasn't so much rape as consensual sex between Clara and Austin? Was it the betrayal? And she had been murdered, feeling like that? Clara had never really understood the expression of guilt "eating away" at someone, but in that moment, she felt it. Felt some gnarled, starveling presence inside her gnawing away. The part of the tale about Cleo crying was apparently just as fascinating to the others; they too, after the initial bemoaning of the dead end they'd reached, had began to debate it.

"Thinking about it, I never actually ever saw her cry. I saw her fake cry to get out of trouble or something like that but never genuine tears, and that's after almost 2 years of knowing her." Gemma said pensively. "People always did say she was heartless."

"She wasn't heartless." Clara replied, Gemma, Lilly and Alice all turning round to look at her intently. It was the first time she'd spoken properly since they'd sat down. "She was vulnerable but she couldn't show that so...instead she decided to show nothing at all." 

"The way I've always thought of it is that the mask that a person wears for the world says a lot about their perception of human nature. Maybe, and this is not me excusing everything she did, it was part of her defence. Like you said, Clara. She was too scared to show any kind of vulnerability." Alice said, without looking at any of them. Her attention had been captured by the notice board on the other side of the room.

"You can't make people love you but you can make them fear you." Lilly said under her breath, Gemma raising her eyebrows.

"What?"

"Blair Waldorf. Season 2, episode 25. Trust me, I can quote Gossip girl like it's the bible." Lilly replied, Gemma shaking her head before continuing.

"So what are we saying? The whole stone cold bitch thing was just an act? I don't think so." She shook her head again, the gesture full of incertitude. "God, this whole thing is more fucked up than my granddad's big toe." Clara would've laughed if it wasn't for how completely bereft she felt. Lilly, however, did, but not without a habitual squirm.

"Eurgh, please do not talk to me about toes. I always think I should start some kind of a petition to make having unpainted toe nails like, a punishable offence but then..." Lilly paused. "Wait, Alice, what are you doing?" She asked, Clara craning her neck round to look at Alice; very abruptly, and without explanation, she had stood up and strode over to the same notice board she'd been so interested in. With a brief glance in the direction of the lady behind the till, at that moment preoccupied by the coffee she was making, Alice reached up to one poster at the top of the board and tore it down, both Gemma and Lilly hissing words of confusion at her as she walked back over with it.

"What the hell are you doing?" Gemma asked, tugging it out of her hands. "Christmas eve carol concert? Jesus, Alice, this is really not the time to be thinking about singing. I thought you couldn't sing, anyway? Please don't tell me you do that now too?" Alice, face the epitome of exasperation, plucked it back out of Gemma's hands and held it up so they could all see.

"So, since this whole tracking Cleo's whereabouts thing has come to a dead end, I suggest that we try something else to catch the Supplier. This carol concert, we're going to do it. It's at the university chapel. Lilly, you're going to ask Luca to arrange to meet with the Supplier outside the chapel. Luca can pretend he wants to buy something off them. Then, all of us sneak out the back of the chapel and go round to follow the Supplier and confront them. We take off the mask and we end this whole bloody mess before it goes any further. Sound good?" She said, addressing them all, wide-eyed. Clara shrugged, scooping her bag up off the floor and standing up.

"You do whatever. I'm going back, I want to get some work done on my dissertation before I leave and I need to pack and everything so-"

"But you're up for it?" Alice persisted, her keenness quite out of place considering the circumstances; it was as if she was asking them if they'd like to go for some whimsical day out to the local market village or if they'd help her to bake some cupcakes.

"Yeah, I suppose." But in that moment, Clara saw little purpose in it all. She just kept thinking about Cleo, crying and how those two things should never, never have to be in the same sentence. She didn't listen to Gemma's complaints that "this whole plan sounds like one mystery machine short of a bloody Scooby-Doo episode!", or Lilly's protests about getting Luca involved, or Alice's rejoinders that he already was due to his inability to keep his dick in his pants. It's your fault. Clara thought to herself. It's your fault.

It's your fucking fault.