by S A Tameez
“Zoe,” He called her into his office, “You got the address for Vanesa Holmes’ father?”
“Yes.”
“Files back where they should be?”
“Yes.”
He leaned in and spoke quietly, “Incriminating WhatsApp image deleted?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” he sighed, “We’re heading out to pay Mr Holmes a visit in sixty-minutes.”
“Great.”
“Oh, can you give Amanda a quick call to see if there are any updates on the clothing fibres.”
“Sure, I’m on it.”
****
Zoe sat back at her desk and called Forensics.
“Amanda Reeves, it’s DC Zoe Hall — are there any updates on the clothing fibres, or any other updates for the Sarah Fowler case?” Cut out all the small talk and straight to the point – some people considered that rude, but Zoe felt ruder to pretend she cared about how people, who she hardly knew, were doing.
“Yes, we’ve got a possible match on the type of clothing and the colour. I’m just typing up the report to send to you.”
“Brilliant!” Zoe hung up and then looked at the case files that she had lied to Nick about. They were still on her desk. She glanced at the clock. She had time to put the files back before anyone noticed them missing.
She dashed out of the room, through the corridor and caught the lift as the doors were closing. The doors closed behind her before she had time to process who already stood inside. Her heart pounded so loud that she was worried he could hear it. Their eyes locked for a second and she looked away. She felt herself turning red. No way out – she had to face him.
“Zoe,” Harvey Morrison said.
“Harvey,” she replied.
“I’m glad we’ve run into each other. I wanted to know what your problem is? I mean, what did I ever do to you?”
You’re a criminal with a badge! She wanted to say but remained silent. She pressed the button for the 3rd floor repeatedly, hoping it would make the elevator move faster. She was too close for comfort.
“Are you seriously not going to say anything?”
“What?” Zoe snapped, “You want an apology? Well, it isn’t going to happen.”
Harvey stood in front of the doors as they opened.
“I didn’t do anything wrong. You accused me of involvement in an illegal drug deal and tampering with evidence.”
“I know what you did,” she pushed him to get past.
“I was not part of the deal – I told you and the courts; I was waiting to pick my younger brother up from football. I had no idea a drug deal was happening anywhere close by. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Yeah, I remember the convincing story. But you and I know what you were doing there. There were plenty of witnesses who said you were the seller. Witnesses who all conveniently withdrew their statements later.”
“This is ridiculous – we’ve been through all of this – when are you going to let this go?”
Zoe walked away without responding. She remembered DCI Harold’s warnings to stay clear of Harvey.
“You alright?” Nick asked as she walked into his office, “You look a little pale.”
“Yes, fine. Amanda has a possible match on clothing and colour,”
“Finally. How long before they send us over the details?”
“No exact ETA, but today.”
“OK. I’ve just got off the phone with Vivian – she said the victim’s friend, Melisa Maddison, is back in the UK tomorrow morning. We need to get her in for questioning as soon as possible. Both her other friends, Jane Taylor and Talisha Kay said that Melisa was close to the victim. We need to find out if she knows anything.”
“OK,” Zoe scribbled some notes in her black notebook. Probably the only person in the entire team who religiously wrote everything down. It helped to put pieces of the puzzle together later – after all the drama – when the smoke cleared.
“Let’s move. It’s about a three-hour drive to Nottingham.”
Chapter 14
Before
Sarah’s mother sat beside her. Uncle Mickey sat opposite wearing an expression she couldn’t read. Perhaps her mother had told him she found the blades and asked him to come and give her a father figure-style talk. Or maybe the university called saying she was not meeting the mark, which would be stupid as she was an adult now.
No, it was none of those – it was something far worse – she felt it.
“Sarah, your uncle and I want to know if everything is OK. We’re concerned that something might be wrong.”
“Everything’s fine,” she lied.
“University can be incredibly stressful,” Uncle Mickey said, “You’re coping with everything, right?”
Sarah sensed something more specific on their minds. She wished they just spat it out instead of taking the long way around.
“What’s this really about?” Sarah asked.
Silence filled the room.
“Are you taking drugs?” her mother asked.
“What? Drugs? Really?” Sarah snapped, “No, I’m not taking drugs!”
Uncle Mickey shot her mother a look that suggested this wasn’t part of the script.
But that’s just how her mother was – direct. Sometimes it worked, most of the time it didn’t. If something was on her mind, irrespective of how bizarre or offensive, it soon translated into unfiltered words. Words that could tear a person apart.
“I mean, you can tell us anything,” she continued, “We’re your family, and we want to help you.”
Uncle Mickey leaned back on the sofa in defeat.
Sarah stood with back straightened.
“I’m not on drugs and why is everyone always trying to help me,” she shouted. “I don’t need your help!”
“Please, don’t leave,” Uncle Mickey said in a gentle voice that reminded her of how her father spoke – calm and collected. “Your mother called me because she was worried. She received a phone call from your old school friend, Justin Flynn.”
“He called the house?” Sarah asked.
“Yes. He said he ran into you today.”
“We did see each other but—”
“He was worried about you,” her mother interrupted, “He mentioned that you didn’t seem yourself.”
“How the hell would he know me?! He hasn’t seen me for 10 years!”
“He thinks you might be on drugs.” Her mother said in her typical fashion of no sugar coating, no filtering.
Sarah’s insides caught fire – if she spoke now her words would be hot flames burning everyone in sight.
A single tear scorched down her cheek.
“Why can’t everyone just leave me alone!” She stomped out of the room and out of the house. She slammed the door hard enough for it to echo down the street. She imagined her mother yelling for her to come back but couldn’t hear anything except her pounding heartbeat and her angry thoughts.
Uncle Mickey would take the brunt of it.
“Do something!” her mother would shout, and he would tell her to remain calm. Let her go… she needs time. Just like her father, he believed time was a healer. What they didn’t know was that some things were unhealable. Some people were beyond repair. And the problem with putting the pieces back together was that they never fitted in the same way.
Sarah strode furiously without any direction. No idea where she was going, nor did it matter. Get as far away from everyone as possible.
Drizzle fell from the sky. Cool and refreshing but not enough to put out the fire smouldering inside her. The grey clouds reflected her mood. She sat on a bench facing a busy road and observed as the rain hit the ground and disappeared into the tarmac – she envied the raindrops, wishing the ground would just absorb her. Fade into nothingness and pretend the mess she called life never happened.
She removed her phone and glanced at the time, 5.52pm.
EC3R 5DD. 6.30pm
The message sprang to her mind. May
be this was the escape she was looking for. Run to a place she didn’t know with a person she didn’t know. Hollywood kind of shit.
Like a fly heading towards the light, she walked towards the underground – not knowing what lay ahead and yet unable to turn back.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She thought to ignore it but then looked at the screen.
Talisha Calling…
She couldn’t avoid talking to her friends forever. Besides, she needed to explain why she stormed off. Talisha would understand – she was nice and caring.
“Hey,” Sarah answered,
“Sarah, what’s wrong with you?!” Talisha sounded completely out of character.
“Sorry…” Sarah said, hoping she would elaborate.
“I mean, I know you and Jane weren’t that tight but stirring between her and Melisa to turn them against each other – that’s low… real low!”
Sarah’s stomach plunged.
“What? I—”
“I hope you're pleased with yourself.” Talisha, not allowing her to explain, “Jane didn’t turn up to work today because she was so upset. Jamie said he’s going to let her go coz she let him down on a busy day.”
“That’s not fair I—”
“Forget it Sarah – forget everything.” She paused for a moment, and Sarah wondered whether this was all just a nightmare, and she would wake any minute.
“You know how hard it is to live in London and the Uni fees and everything else. But you wouldn’t, would you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sarah said defensively. She had a feeling this conversation was only going to get worse.
“Well, some of us don’t have to work, do we? We live perfect lives, don’t we?”
“I don’t have to pay rent because I live close enough to commute,” she said not sure why she should have to explain. How could she tell her that she would rather have financial troubles over the troubles in her mind any day?
In comparison, they were the ones with perfect lives. They still had both their parents – they had everything.
“You sure it’s that and not that you’ve got little Miss Perfect and her credit card in your grubby little palms?”
“Talisha, listen—”
“I’m done listening. You want Melisa all to yourself – you couldn’t stand her doing stuff for us could you? That’s what it was, wasn’t it? What next? You going to turn her against me, is that it?”
Sarah wanted to tell her she had got this all wrong. Melisa was her friend, and she didn’t even like it when she spent ridiculous amounts of money on her. But the words were stuck in her throat. Tears rolled down her face and the sudden urge to vomit overcame her.
“Sorry,” The only word she managed.
“You will be!” Talisha responded and hung up abruptly.
You will be…
The words repeated in her head. She was already sorry – sorry for even trying to be normal, trying to fit in. For being born. She wanted to scream and hurl her phone at the wall but felt paralysed. She stood on the platform, frozen, unable to make sense of anything.
“Sarah,” a voice called from behind. She wiped her eyes and turned to face Justin.
“Feels like a déjà vu,” Justin said with a nervous smile.
“What do you want, Justin?” she said without making eye contact.
“I just wanted to talk.”
Sarah looked at his perfect nose and thought about punching it as hard as she could. She released her fists – that wouldn’t be good for anyone. Especially her, as Justin was a tall, well-built man who if decided to hit her back would do some serious damage.
“What? To find out if I’m on drugs?”
“You spoke to your mother…”
“What do you think?”
“Sarah, look I’m sorry,”
“Sorry about chatting rubbish to her, or that she told me?”
“I was just worried and—”
“I don’t need you to be worried about me! I don’t need anything from you!” She let that hang for a while. She wanted him to feel pain – to see the hurt on his face but he was expressionless.
“How did you even know I was here?” She looked around, glad there were still a few people around. “Let me guess, a coincidence.”
“Sarah, why do you have to be like this? Do you know how much I thought about you over the years? How many times I thought of leaving everything and coming to London to find you?”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, not wanting an explanation.
“I like you, Sarah.” He didn’t blush or seem embarrassed. He spoke confidently as if he had rehearsed this moment.
“Justin, I really can’t do this right now… my head is all over the place.”
“Let me help you,”
“Why don’t you get it! I don’t want your help. I don’t want you at all! Not as a friend and not as anything else!”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. Now, please stop following me and leave me alone.” She turned to walk away from him. Rage and anger coursed through her veins like electrical currents She needed to walk away before she said things she would regret later.
She felt his tight grip on her arm. He swung her around.
“What are you doing?” she said, “You’re hurting my arm.”
“Sarah, listen to me,”
“Stop it! Get off me!”
“Just give me a minute to explain,”
“Get off my arm!” Sarah shouted and swung her fist instinctively. Though she didn’t mean it to, it connected with his face. He let go of her arm and grabbed his bleeding lower lip. People stopped and stared in shock.
“You’re such a freak!” Justin said with a look of rage. For a moment she thought he might strike her back, but she was no longer afraid. Her fists were still clenched – she would do it again if she needed to and this time, she would mean to do it.
“I told you to leave me alone!” Her heart pounded the inside of her chest.
He glared in shock for a moment while holding his nose, and then stormed away without looking back.
An old lady, who witnessed the blow approached her.
“Are you OK?” she said looking concerned.
“I’m fine!” she snapped. Pain throbbed in her knuckles. Relief only came as she heard the grinding sound of the tube approach. She wanted nothing more than to jump in and vanish.
Chapter 15
After
It was nice to drive out of the city. It had been a while since Zoe went anywhere – not that this was a holiday or anything.
She never enjoyed holidays, even when she was younger, and her parents took the family abroad every year. She spent most of the time with her nose in a book. It all felt like a waste of time – travelling to another country, staying in a hotel, and visiting the areas designed for tourists. Her idea of a holiday would be to go backpacking into the heart of the country and visit places that revealed the country’s real culture. Her father would never approve of such a trip. He was overly protective and watched way too much news on television. According to the news, every country in the world except the UK was dangerous.
“You seem different today,” Zoe remarked, noticing Nick’s clean shave and sweet cologne. He seemed fresher than usual. The eye bags were smaller despite her waking him up at stupid-o’clock. He had knocked off a few years.
“Do I?” He glanced up at the rear-view mirror.
“You won the lottery or something?”
“You think I would be here if I did?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” She would still be even if she had won the lottery.
“You’re probably right,” Nick smiled. “Which is sad!”
“So, what is it?”
“I don’t know; maybe it’s me and Stacey… we seem to be closer now than when the pregnancy started.”
“That’s great, right?” She had her suspicions something wasn’t quite right – early mornings and late nights in the
office, even when there wasn’t much to do. Attending every team get-together and meeting – it was as if he was avoiding going home.
“Yes, it is. I think I was just scared and… I don’t know. We seem to be opening up to each other more.”
“It’s perfectly normal to be scared – I mean, having a baby is a big deal.” Not that she would know.
“It is…” he said, rubbing his eyebrow vigorously, “but it’s not that simple.”
“Oh, are there complications with the pregnancy?” She immediately wondered whether it was a mistake to ask.
“The pregnancy’s fine. It’s just…”
“Just?”
“It’s complicated.” He scratched his chin.
“Clearly,” She smiled. “You’re scared you’re not father material?”
“No… I mean, I am scared about that as well. But it’s more than that.” He loosened his tie and opened the window a little. Zoe opened hers a little to balance the amount of air gushing in as they drove at seventy-miles-per-hour on the motorway. The imbalance of the air caused discomfort in her eardrums.
“There’s something I never told Stacey about my past. Something that haunts me every day.”
Zoe could sense the seriousness in his voice and didn’t probe him. She just watched him as he started scratching the back of his head. She wasn’t sure whether he was nervous or whether he had suddenly formed eczema.
“I was married before I met Stacey. She knows that part. She even knows that Katie was my school sweetheart and my soul mate. What she doesn’t know is that we had a son. Michael. When he was born, it was the happiest and saddest day of my life. The doctors told us that Michael was weak, too weak to survive. They gave names for all the complications, but their jargon meant nothing to me. All I knew was that our boy was dying and there was nothing we or anyone else could do about it.”
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and his cheeks had turned red. The pain was obviously still there, buried deep within him. And with every word he spoke the wounds opened wider.