Free Better Left Buried by Emma Haughton

my old notebook?
    A lump forms in my throat, and suddenly I feel dizzy and queasy, like I’ve drunk something too fast and it’s gone to my head.
    I’m scared, I realize. For the first time I feel truly out of my depth.

11
thursday 18th August
    Where ARE you?
    I press Send, adding it to the half-dozen texts I’ve already sent Lizzie over the last two days.
    Not a single reply. Not even to the one telling her about the burglary.
    Looking up, I see Amanda Godfrey walking up the drive with a bunch of her friends, their faces all fluttery and apprehensive. I watch them disappear into the college building, then check the time.
    Nearly ten past eleven. I’ve been here over an hour and no sign of Lizzie.
    Maybe she’s lost her phone or it’s broken or something? But then, I’ve left her several messages on Facebook – hard to believe she hasn’t even checked there. Lizzie’s a complete social media addict; she has hundreds of online friends and usually updates her status several times a day.
    I cover my eyes and squint into the sunshine. Finally spot someone who looks like Lizzie heading towards me. At last, I think, with a flush of relief mixed with annoyance.
    But as the girl emerges from the shadow of the trees lining the drive, I realize my mistake. It’s Tanya, not Lizzie. I forgot they bought the exact same purple summer dress, when it was on sale in that shop at the end of the high street.
    â€œHey, Sarah,” Tanya says, as she approaches. “You got your results already?”
    I shake my head.
    â€œComing in to get them then?” She smiles.
    â€œI’m waiting for Lizzie. God knows where she is.”
    Tanya frowns. “Yeah, what’s up with her? I texted her the other day about Abby’s party and she ignored it.”
    â€œI’ve got no idea,” I sigh.
    â€œYou’re going though, right? To the party?”
    I nod, though if Lizzie’s not going I can’t say I’m keen. I’ve enough on my plate with work and singing without a late night and a hangover into the bargain.
    â€œOkay, well, I’ll see you Saturday. Good luck!” Tanya gives me a little wave as she disappears into the building. I check the time again. Christ, the office shuts in half an hour – at this rate, we’re going to miss it.
    Then it occurs to me that maybe Lizzie isn’t coming at all. But we always planned to collect our results together. And surely she won’t wait for them to arrive in the post? Lizzie needs pretty decent grades this year if she wants to study journalism at uni – she must be dying to know what she’s got.
    I feel my irritation grow. Not only for being left in the lurch like this, but there’s all the other stuff I need to discuss with Lizzie. The burglary. And the map. Because if the two are connected – and I’m increasingly convinced they are – she should be as worried as I am. After all, it showed her house as well as mine.
    Something about her lack of curiosity over the map doesn’t add up; it’s as if she doesn’t even want to consider what it means. And that man, I think, remembering the incident in the cafe. I’m sure Lizzie saw him – the guy that burgled us – although she refused to admit it. And I want to know why.
    Five more minutes, I decide, glancing at my phone, then at the door leading into college. I’ll give her five more minutes and then I’m going in.
    Inside, I join the small queue for the secretary’s office, my stomach pulsating with nerves. Mrs Ogden sticks her head out the hatch and asks for the name of the guy in front of me, then disappears to retrieve his envelope.
    I watch a group of girls from my year open their results together, four pairs of eyes scrolling down their letters. A couple of faces break out into wide smiles. Jane Thomas gives a whoop of delight, but her friend Frances stares hard at the piece of paper in her