by Carol Wyer
Every surface was invisible, covered by a mountain of waste and unwashed crockery that made Natalie cringe. The boys had left without any thought to cleaning up after themselves. Somebody had built an impressive pyramid out of the empty beer cans that reached Natalie’s chest, with more cans in a pile next to it on the floor. Dirty plates, one stacked haphazardly on top of another like a bizarre variation of Jenga, jostled with cooking utensils for space. Her eyes were drawn to a frying pan still glistening with oil, and the wooden spatula, blackened by neglect, that remained in it on the table. Next to it, a fat, black fly gorged on the remnants of a curried meal, squatting first on one glued-on rice grain then another, each hop accompanied by a low drone of satisfaction. Natalie swatted at it and it flew off only to land lazily on a cup at the top of an eruption of plates and cutlery in the sink.
Rhiannon appeared oblivious to the tip and rested her back against the fridge, where magnetic letters only served to make up obscene words. She folded her arms across her chest and the room filled with a noise akin to crinkling a large packet of crisps. The puffa was noisy but Rhiannon didn’t seem to be bothered by its creaks. ‘I might leave university altogether. I can’t imagine staying in Samford after what has happened.’
Lucy hunted for somewhere to sit down but didn’t fancy the plastic chairs, stained with a sticky substance that resembled ketchup. ‘I wouldn’t make any rash decisions. You’re in your second year. You don’t want to throw away what you’ve already achieved.’
‘I don’t care about that. I can get a job.’
‘You could always transfer to another university and keep on studying.’
Rhiannon didn’t answer. The woollen bonnet ears lengthened her face, adding to the sorrowful demeanour, the epitome of a hang-dog expression. Natalie had been puzzling over something since passing the cars on the street.
‘You own a car, don’t you? A Dacia Sandero?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is it parked on the street? I couldn’t see it.’
‘There are several spaces behind the accountants’ house at number 74. They don’t mind if anyone uses them as long as it’s out of hours.’
‘Would that include the weekend?’
‘Yes. They don’t open Saturdays or Sundays. If there are no spaces on the road we usually try there.’
‘Did you happen to park there Saturday or Sunday?’
‘No, I had a spot right outside the house.’
A thought bubbled. Hattie’s car had appeared at the railway car park at 10.17 p.m. but where had it been beforehand? The tech team had been unable to locate it, prior to that. If it had been parked in the accountants’ car park, it would have been out of sight. She nodded to indicate she had nothing more to ask, and Lucy took over.
‘We wanted to ask you about the argument you had with Fran.’
‘What argument?’
‘The one you had Saturday night in her room.’
Rhiannon’s forehead creased lightly. ‘There wasn’t any argument.’
‘That’s not what we were told.’
‘Who told you?’
‘It doesn’t matter who told us. We’d like to hear what happened.’
‘Nothing. Fran and I were tight. We didn’t row or fall out. Ever.’
‘Were you in her room on Saturday night?’
‘Yes. After you took our phones, I went back to her place and we sat in her room and talked about stuff.’
‘What exactly did you talk about?’
‘What happened to Gemma and how we’d got caught up in it because of what we’d said on Facebook. We talked about Hattie and where she might have gone and other stuff – uni stuff.’
‘You deny shouting or quarrelling with her?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Raised voices were heard and Fran was clearly heard saying, “You stupid fucking bitch.” Do you remember that? Maybe she was talking to somebody else.’
‘There was no one else in her room while I was there. I left at about nine. Maybe it happened afterwards. We definitely didn’t have any argument. Whoever said we did was wrong or lying.’
Natalie studied the girl’s posture. She kept her hands deep in her pockets and her back was slightly bowed. Liars often hid their palms by keeping their hands palm down or in pockets. It was warm enough in the house to remove the hat and padded coat but Rhiannon had chosen to stay wrapped up and buried within the huge coat. She might be hiding something but it was equally likely she felt coddled inside the puffa that cocooned her. Her face showed undeniable anguish yet one thing bothered Natalie: in order for Rhiannon to be telling the truth, it meant Ryan was either wrong or lying. Natalie was being batted backwards and forwards in this investigation. When would it all end?
Chapter Thirty-One
Tuesday, 20 November – Night
Fatigue was eating into Natalie, weakening her ability to think properly and affecting her movements. As much as she wished to pursue every avenue, her team – equally frayed and weary – needed time off. She and Lucy had once again left Rhiannon in Katherine’s hands. The university counsellor had also assured them the kitchen would be cleaned. Libby, the student who’d been away on a field trip, was due back the following afternoon, and Katherine was certain the other girl’s presence would help Rhiannon.
Coats were dragged on in haste, goodnights called out and the office emptied in no time, leaving Natalie staring at her mobile phone. Mike hadn’t rung and she hadn’t told Josh that his father was in hospital. It was time to face the music.
She put on her waterproof jacket and bent to untangle her shoulder bag strap from under the chair leg, where it had got caught. As she lifted the chair to free it, a familiar marimba tune rang out. She yanked her strap free and leapt to her feet, heart in her mouth.
‘Mike?’ Her voice was wary.
‘It’s going to be a while before they determine how much damage has been caused but he’s going to make it. He’s in intensive care.’
‘Thank goodness!’ The wave of relief threatened to knock her over. ‘I’ll collect Josh and we’ll come to the hospital. Will you still be there?’
‘No. I’m going to head home now. The doctors want to keep him under observation. I wasn’t allowed to see him. They might allow you to visit him but I’m not family.’
‘You saved his life, Mike. You’re as good as family.’
‘Let’s see how he recovers first before we become too jubilant. There could be all sorts of damage and complications yet.’
The reality of his words punched home. If David needed care, how would they cope? She couldn’t look after him. The relief was replaced by anxiety. She didn’t want to be tethered to David. She needed him to make a full recovery.
‘I don’t want to do this on the phone but we need to talk this through properly. It could become… complicated,’ he said.
‘I think I know what you’re saying but it needn’t be.’ Even as she spoke, she knew Mike was right. David’s recovery might be long-term, with him reliant on loved ones and an army of professionals to guide and nurse him back to full health. He might even resent those who had saved him.
‘I know this investigation is taking up every single minute of your day, and you have Josh and now this added pressure, but can we make time?’ Mike asked.
‘Sure. I’ll ring you later, after I’ve been to the hospital, and we’ll work something out.’
‘Okay. We’ll talk later.’
She ended the call and looked up to see Dan standing by the open door. ‘I couldn’t help but overhear. You have to go to the hospital?’
Unsure of how much of her conversation he’d eavesdropped on, and annoyed he’d caught any of it, she replied sharply, ‘David’s in hospital.’
‘An accident?’
‘No. Not an accident.’ She hauled her handbag onto her shoulder. ‘If you’ll excuse me, sir. I need to get on my way.’
He moved aside to let her pass. ‘I was going to ask for a quick update on the investigat
ion. It can wait until the morning.’
‘I’ll make sure there’s a report on your desk first thing.’ She swept past him down the corridor before he could say anything further.
‘Who rescued him?’ Josh didn’t seem shocked by the news of his father’s attempted suicide, or curious about what had happened.
‘Mike. Your dad rang me before he… Well, I rang Mike. He was closer to Castergate than me. He got to him in time.’
Although his jaw jutted, he made no comment.
‘Do you want to come to the hospital with me?’
He crossed his arms. ‘Uh-uh. I don’t want to see him.’
Natalie wasn’t going to force the boy to accompany her. She understood he wouldn’t want to see his father under such circumstances. ‘Think about visiting him tomorrow then. It would help him to know we care about him.’
‘But I don’t care about him.’
There was no anger. Josh was being factual. ‘The same as he hasn’t cared about me the last few months. I know it sounds cruel and I ought to feel differently, but I can’t help it.’
‘He does care about you.’
‘You keep saying he does, but he didn’t demonstrate that. He sat in his own bubble of misery. He pushed me away every single day, little by little. That’s why I came to you.’
‘I’m really sorry, Josh. We’ve put you through hell.’
‘It’s okay. I’m okay. I simply can’t handle any more shit. It seems like I’ve been dealing with it forever. Leigh being murdered was the worst thing ever, but then instead of us all sticking together and helping each other through it, you and Dad split up, and then he tries to top himself! What the fuck’s the matter with our family? I only want to be part of a normal family!’
She fought maternal instincts that demanded she hold him as she had done when he was a baby, soothe him and allay his fears. Her son was a young adult with a fierce determination who’d constructed a protective layer around his heart and emotions to shield him from any more upset. She understood that perfectly. She’d reacted similarly following the major fallout with her sister Frances. She’d withdrawn emotionally, buried her feelings and created a tough shell to prevent any further bruising. Those events had fashioned her as these would fashion Josh. ‘If I could turn back the clock, I would. I didn’t want any of this for us… especially not for you, but life is never easy and relationships can be complicated. Whatever happened between me and your dad, neither of us stopped loving you, not for one second.’
Josh swallowed hard. ‘He didn’t want to live, Mum. He’d given up on life… on you and on me. He wanted to die. You and Mike, you shouldn’t have stopped him.’
His words clawed at her heart. She badly wanted to make him understand why she couldn’t let David die, but she was unable to articulate her thoughts now enveloped in an invisible mist of confusion. His voice reached her. ‘If you want to go and visit him, then go ahead, but I’m not. Not today or tomorrow or at all.’
The hospital visit was proving futile. Although she was granted permission to see David, he was unconscious and attached to drips to keep him replenished and to machines that monitored heart and brain activity. Standing by his bedside, looking at the man who’d been her lover and soulmate for the best part of two decades, she felt only sorrow. Josh’s words rang in her ears. She detected a rustle and felt a sturdy presence beside her. She knew at once who it was. She’d rung him on her way over. David’s father, Eric, had been a constant in their lives. He didn’t speak, and when she turned her head to face him, she saw only what was reflected in her own eyes.
The old man had changed too. He’d shrunk so his skin seemed too large for his body and cheek flaps hung over what had been a plump, cheerful face. The aftermath of losing Leigh had been more than psychological; it had taken a physical toll on them all.
Eric rested rheumy eyes on her. ‘Thank you.’
‘I should have seen the signs…’ she began.
‘Difficult when he wouldn’t speak to you or have any contact with you.’ There was a long pause before he said, ‘I saw the signs and I did nothing about them.’
Natalie didn’t believe that. Eric had always been there for his son.
‘He came by yesterday. He was in his usual self-pitying state and I lost my rag with him. I was tired of listening to him complain or point the finger of blame at everyone but himself. I love him but he has really tested my patience over the last few months. I told him to pull himself together and sent him packing. You see, we are both at fault, but there’s only so much you can do for a person. At least your intervention has given me the chance to try again and make amends. I haven’t lost my boy.’ He held out a hand and she took it. It was toughened by age and hard work but felt strangely comfortable. He squeezed it, bit back tears, and then squeezed again before releasing her. ‘We’ve been through too much tragedy. I can’t face any more.’
They stood once more in silence, looking at the man who they’d both loved in their different ways, and when they left, Eric placed an arm across her shoulder and gently guided her out into the corridor, where his girlfriend, Pam, stood with open arms for them both. Natalie had been forgiven, and although she was unsure what the future would hold for David, she was once more on terra firma with support from those she loved.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Wednesday, 21 November – Morning
The day was brighter than it had been for a while. Weak rays of sunshine fell across Natalie’s kitchen table, capturing dust particles that danced and soared in their rays like tiny fairies. A robin, perched on the fence outside, emitted a throaty warble. Natalie watched as its chest inflated and it shook its feathers. It reminded her that they were entering the festive period. It was going to be tough this year. She ought to book a holiday for her and Josh, somewhere warm, where they could escape Christmas and its reminders of what they were now lacking. Maybe Mike could join them. She’d rung him after the visit to the hospital and they’d arranged to talk at lunchtime in Samford Park, close enough to headquarters to reach on foot, but far enough to be distant from prying eyes.
The sound of running water ceased, accompanied by a clattering in the pipes and a clunk as Josh switched off the tap. The flat wasn’t ideal for the pair of them. Noise readily passed through the thinly partitioned walls, and overnight she’d been subjected to noisy lovemaking coming from the flat above her. They needed their house in Castergate to sell soon, but where would that leave David?
Josh appeared, a towel wrapped around his lower body, his hair damp. ‘Hairdryer’s knackered,’ he said, holding up the aged appliance.
‘I’ll buy a replacement if I find time today.’
‘I’ll get it for you.’
‘When?’
‘I’ve got a couple of free periods before lunch. I can walk into town and buy one.’
‘Okay. Here, take this.’ She reached for her purse, handed over forty pounds. ‘Don’t get a really expensive one. I don’t need anything fancy.’
‘You can count on me.’ He seemed unaffected by what had happened to his father or the conversation they’d had the night before, and Natalie wondered if he was truly fine about everything. He might be putting on a brave face or front. Like you? He popped his head back around the door. ‘Pippa’s mum has invited me to stay over tonight. Is that okay with you?’
She wasn’t keen. It was a college night but he needed freedom and certainly didn’t need his style cramped. Maybe he also needed some of the ‘normality’ that Pippa and her mother offered, with their dogs and horses, and less complicated lives in the country. ‘It’s fine by me but promise me something.’
‘What’s that?’
‘You won’t keep secrets from me.’
‘I don’t.’
She tried to explain her reasoning. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Josh. ‘If Leigh had been open about where she was going—’
‘I get it but you don’t need to worry. I’m definitely going to Pippa’s house. You can
ring me there if you want to make sure.’
‘I trust you. Promise me you’ll always be open with me. I need that from you. I couldn’t bear anything to happen to you.’
He gave her an affectionate look that made her want to hold him, tightly. He was still her boy. ‘You got it. Can you manage without the hairdryer until tomorrow?’
‘Yes, and thank you.’
‘No probs.’
‘Josh!’
‘Yes?’
She wanted to ask him if he’d changed his mind about David but she already knew the answer. Josh hadn’t asked after David. ‘Nothing… I’ve got to scoot. Have a good day.’
‘Cheers. I’ll text you later.’
The robin trilled loudly as she navigated the icy puddles on the uneven path, its song lifting to the pastel blue skies. It trained bright eyes on her and followed her cautious movements as she picked her way towards the pavement. Natalie inhaled the crisp air, and on exhaling, she made a conscious effort to extinguish all thoughts of David, Josh and Mike. Her mind drifted back to the cars on Eastview Avenue and the conversation about the car park behind the accountants’ house, and she wondered if there was any CCTV overlooking it. A motorbike passed her, accelerating loudly, but she paid no heed.
She was first into the office and picked up a note that had been left on her desk. It was written in Darshan’s decorative handwriting, letters topped with swirls and flourishes. Forensics had found no traces of oxalic acid in any of the empty bottles found near Fran’s body. Fran had consumed the acid elsewhere, not while sitting in the doorway where the homeless man, Evan Robertson, had slept. There was now little doubt in her mind that Fran had been poisoned. She hunted for the number for the firm of accountants working at 74 Eastview Avenue and then carefully prepared the report she’d promised Dan. She gave as much information as she could and sat back, satisfied with what she’d typed. At least she had some leads she could now follow.