The Book of Lies by Mary Horlock Page A

world.’
    â€˜To anywhere in particular?’ I asked.
    He shrugged. ‘Maybe Australia. Mum’s got a brother there she’s not seen for years.’
    I wanted to tell him I’d be going there, too, one day, but before I could he’d turned and walked casually over to the other side of the tower. (He didn’t hold on to the wall or anything!)
    I’d drunk quite a lot earlier but that little walk sobered me up no end. When I caught up with him by the window facing the car park he put an arm around me, which made it all worthwhile. Then I realised he was trying to help me out of it. I looked at him like he was nuts.
    â€˜It’s easy,’ he said, ‘turn around and push your head out and then sit on the ledge like this.’ He demonstrated the manoeuvre.
    â€˜Not a chance,’ I told his thigh.
    I’m glad to say he slid back in.
    I stared down to the car park, where Jason’s and Pete’s cars were parked side-by-side. I cupped my hands around my mouth and called Nic’s name, to see if she could hear me.
    â€˜You want to get her attention?’ Michael bent away from me and rummaged in his jacket. ‘I know a way.’
    He’d pulled out another can of what I thought was spray paint, only this one had something sticking out of it. He flicked his cigarette lighter and I saw a little flame.
    â€˜And here’s one I made earlier,’ he held it up to show me.
    Before I could say anything he’d stuck his head out of the window and lobbed it through the air. It flew in an arc and went bouncing off some rocks down below, and exploded with a crack and smoke. I looked at Michael, he was laughing, then he shouted ‘You-fucking-loser!’ so loudly I was scared. Jason had got out of his car and was shouting back. Michael nodded to me like I should scream, too. That’s when I noticed his T-shirt: it was black with white letters that read ‘NEW ORDER’. Most people think this is the name of a pop group, but as far as I know Hitler only liked opera. Anyway, in that moment, for whatever reason, I took those two little words as a sign to do exactly what Michael said. I screamed and swore my head off.
    Then Michael took my bottle of Unlabelled Sinister Import and threw it out the window as well. It smashed on some rocks into lots of little pieces. I felt dizzy and ducked back inside. Then I heard car engines start.
    â€˜That’s shown them, eh?’
    I looked across at Michael and his eyes glittered darkly.
    â€˜What were we trying to show them?’
    He frowned like he was irritated by my (perfectly reasonable) question. ‘Does it fucking matter?’
    I was sitting down but I still felt like I was falling. I thought about Nic and Pete and Pagey and Jason.
    I tried to smile. ‘The thing is, they’re my friends.’
    Michael re-lit his cigarette and handed it to me. I took a long drag and held the smoke in my mouth. Seconds passed. I remembered to breathe. I tried again. My head felt hot.
    Michael sighed. ‘With friends like those, who needs enemies?’
    And unfortunately he had a point. I should’ve seen that. Why didn’t I realise? On an island this small, your friends and your enemies quickly end up the same.

15 th December 1965
    Tape: 2 (A side) ‘The testimony of C.A. Rozier’
[Edits from transcript compiled and corrected by E.P. Rozier]
    Hé bian, Emile, we live so close on this little island, friends and enemies live side by side. The English must wonder how we do it. They have all that open space whereas we are pocket-sized. So why did the Germans even want us, eh? Why couldn’t they just bomb us and leave be? That would’ve been so much the better. But instead they had to come and live amongst us, they came and took our homes, they got right under our skin, as close to us as our own flesh and blood, so close we couldn’t breathe.
    Reckon all of us remember when and where we got