‘What?’
‘I mean, what you experienced, it was awful, I can see that. But sometimes, if you think about things from another point of view, things can seem different.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Russell placed a hand on each of her shoulders. ‘Please, Natalie, don’t hate me for suggesting this, but maybe it was just a case of misinterpreting intentions.’
She went to shrug him off, but his grip held firm.
‘I know that Sir Kenneth does suffer from back problems,’ he revealed. ‘He talks about it in his autobiography. Ten years ago he fell off a horse while competing in a charity race and damaged the discs in his lower spine. He’s had treatment, one of the discs was taken out, but he said in the book that it’s an ongoing problem.’
‘He was just in his underpants.’
‘Have you ever been to an osteopath or chiropractor?’ he asked. ‘I have. They ask you to remove everything but your underwear.’
‘Yes, but…’
‘I know it’s strange,’ he said, ‘to just spring it on you like that without warning. It shouldn’t happen, I agree. It’s not acceptable behaviour.’
‘But?’
‘But it might just be that he really was in pain at that point, and he trusted you. When you think about it, it’s quite a trusting thing to do, to reveal yourself like that, show your weaknesses.’
To her surprise, Russell was actually making sense. Maybe she had overreacted? Maybe she had misinterpreted the events, possibly because of her experiences with Jack. ‘I don’t know, Russell. The way he came after me.’
‘It sounds awful, really awful,’ he said. ‘But maybe, just maybe, in the heat of the moment, he was angry at being embarrassed. Maybe he lost it for just a moment. You said he grabbed your wrists?’
‘Yes. And pushed me up against the wall.’
‘How did you get away?’
‘He let me go.’
‘Without you having to struggle?’
‘I… I asked him to let me go.’
Russell smiled sadly. ‘He probably realised he had gone too far. The red mist had cleared.’
Natalie closed her eyes.
‘I’m not trying to downplay what happened,’ Russell continued, ‘or to come up with excuses for what he did. But it’s worth thinking this through.’
Finally Natalie nodded. ‘I need to use the bathroom.’
‘It’s up the stairs, on the left.’
NATALIE CLIMBED THE STAIRS, thinking through what Russell had said. The scary thing was that it made sense. He’d forced her to think from Sir Kenneth’s perspective, and almost immediately the scenario seemed transformed.
But she had felt the horror. Could it really just have been an unfortunate misunderstanding?
By the time she had exited the loo, she had shaken off the doubts.
It had been more than an innocent misunderstanding. She was sure of that. All those months of giving Jack the benefit of the doubt when he had used various means to exert power and control, treating her so badly. She recognised what had happened at New House, and it had been sinister.
She paused at the top of the stairs, gazing along the landing to the open bedroom at the end. For some reason she felt compelled to explore. Surely Russell wouldn’t mind – after all, he had been the one to insist on her visiting his place.
She entered the bedroom. As with downstairs, it was perfectly neat and tidy, like a show home. But one item stood out.
The book was on the chest of drawers.
The book about the Sinclair family murders that Russell had been consulting during their evening together at New House.
She picked it up and began to leaf through.
But something was wrong. The text was referring to the English football team during the 1990 Italian World Cup. She flicked through the pages some more, and again, it was just football references.
Then she saw the gap between the cover and the main part of the book. She lifted the outer cover up to reveal the book’s true cover.
Italia ’90: Travels with England.
The Sinclair cover was merely a facade.
Russell had been lying.
And there on the inside front cover was something else.
47
Previous Sunday morning
NATALIE FELT QUITE sick by the time she returned to the kitchen. Russell smiled as he handed her a coffee.
‘Here you go,’ he said. ‘Hope you like it.’
She took the cup, cradling it in both hands, and steeled herself for the conversation. She wasn’t even sure why it was that important that he’d lied about the book, but it felt important and she needed to have it out with him. ‘The book you had about what happened at New House,’ she began.
His face altered, the smile dissolving before her eyes. ‘You found it.’
She nodded.
He took a sip of his coffee, his brow furrowed. ‘It wasn’t meant to be anything serious, just a bit of a game, that’s all.’
‘A bit of a game,’ she echoed.
‘Yes.’ He shrugged. ‘I thought it would add to the atmosphere of the weekend, the story of the Sinclairs. The book was part of that.’
‘So the story about the murders, it wasn’t true?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, when he saw Natalie’s reaction. ‘It was just a bit of fun.’
‘I believed you.’
‘Sorry,’ he said again, but this time it didn’t sound quite as genuine. He took another sip and turned to the sink. ‘You’ve got to remember, Natalie, that the weekend wasn’t a real-life situation. People were there to play a game, to take part in a competition. I was just trying to liven things up, that’s all. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, I really am.’
Natalie watched Russell, not sure how to respond. She had trusted him. And she didn’t accept that it wasn’t real life. It was.
‘Why did you leave the house early?’ she asked.
Another shrug. ‘I’m not sure, really,’ was the surprising reply. ‘It was a spur of the moment decision, and it probably had a lot to do with all that whiskey I’d drunk, if I’m honest.’
‘So you didn’t plan to leave?’
‘No, I didn’t, honestly. I said goodbye to you, got back to my room, and, I don’t know, I just found myself packing up my stuff and heading for the door. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. I felt pretty bad about it in the morning. And I thought you probably wouldn’t be in touch because of it. So I was glad when you called and left your number.’ He tried a smile.
But Natalie wasn’t finished with the questions yet – something didn’t feel right about this. He’d been lying about the book, and she felt pretty sure he was lying about the circumstances behind his exit from the house. She really didn’t want a confrontation, though. After all, she hardly knew him – maybe she knew him even less than she’d thought – and she was in his house. It wouldn’t be wise at all to raise tensions. And yet, she wanted to know the truth…
‘Susie thought she heard you talking with Tabitha, in your room,’ she said, deciding that it was something that she wanted to pursue.
There was just a second or two of hesitation, but it was enough. ‘Oh, yes, she came by to see what the matter was because she could hear me banging around. I’m afraid I must have been a bit noisy when I was getting my things together.’ He kept his tone as even and light as possible, but there was tension in his voice.
‘I don’t think you’re telling me the truth,’ she found herself saying.
He just looked at her.
And then the thought came to her. ‘How did you know about the secret room in the attic? About where the secret door was to the staircase? You said it was mentioned in the book you had about the Sinclairs, but it wasn’t, because there was no book. So how did you…’
Still he just looked back.
It certainly wasn’t the kind of thing you could stumble upon.
Another thought. There was only one explanation she could t
hink of for why Russell would have known about the existence of that room.
‘Your name isn’t Russell, is it?’ she said. ‘It’s Guy. Guy Clarke.’
‘I don’t know what you’re on about.’
‘That’s the name in the book. Guy Clarke.’
He gave a half-hearted shake of the head. ‘Natalie, you’ve got this all…’
Natalie brought out her phone. ‘If I were to search for Guy Clarke on here, would I find your photo?’
His expression told her yes.
‘And would it also tell me who you worked for? You must have a LinkedIn profile.’
This time he nodded. ‘Do it,’ he conceded. ‘Go ahead.’
‘I’d rather you told me yourself.’
He drained his coffee and placed the mug on the draining board before turning back to face her, palms spread. ‘Fair enough. You’re right. My name’s Guy Clarke, and I work for Brand New.’
‘LET’S go through to the sitting room,’ he said. ‘I can explain everything.’
Natalie followed him through and took a seat opposite him. She watched as he composed himself, and she hoped he wasn’t just taking these few minutes to think up some more lies.
‘I’ve worked for Brand New for the past six years. I’m a senior brand manager, focussed on our digital marketing operations.’
Natalie had a lot of questions, but wanted to hear him out.
‘I was asked by the company to do a bit of role playing in the weekend’s assessment exercise – pretend to be one of the applicants.’
‘Why?’
‘Sir Kenneth is quite a playful character,’ he said. ‘It was his idea, to mix things up a bit in the house.’
‘Which is where the story of the Sinclair family comes in.’
He nodded. ‘Yes. That was Sir Kenneth’s idea too. He came up with the story. He’s got quite a vivid imagination, which I’m sure won’t come as a surprise. He sent along the story and I just had to run with it. It was my idea to come up with the book, with the fake cover. It all added to the authenticity. And we knew that with you guys having no internet access, you wouldn’t be able to check the veracity of what we were telling you.’
‘Is that why electronic devices were banned?’
‘Partly. But it was also because Sir Kenneth wanted to create that feeling of being isolated from the rest of the world. You can’t do that with social media notifications pinging around the place.’
‘And your job, arranging designer funerals…’
‘Also Sir Kenneth’s idea, although I wish I could take credit for it.’
‘So all along you were working with Tabitha. Her coming to my room, looking for you, it was all an act.’
‘Yes.’
‘Why focus on me?’
‘Because Sir Kenneth instructed me to. He wanted me to test you out, see how you’d react.’
‘Test me out?’
He smiled. ‘Of course. He wanted to see whether you’d come with me, explore the house, face up to the ghosts of the Sinclair family. He wanted to see how you reacted, how you dealt with the situation.’
‘But why?’
Another smile. ‘Because you were the winner, Natalie. You always were. He picked you out himself, that day at the book signing. He was waiting and hoping for you to apply. And you did.’
‘He told me,’ she replied. ‘He told me all this. Just before he attacked me.’
Russell shook his head. ‘Natalie, as I said, you’ve got this all wrong. Sir Kenneth really isn’t like that.’
Natalie bristled. ‘What he did, it wasn’t me misunderstanding events. It didn’t happen like you said. I know what happened, because it happened to me.’
‘You’re mistaken.’
‘I’m not.’
‘Natalie, I don’t want you to make what could be the biggest mistake of your life. Don’t throw away the amazing opportunity that you’ve been presented with, all because you got the wrong impression. Honestly, it would be a massive mistake, believe me.’
‘Why should I believe anything you say?’
‘I like you, Natalie, I really do. You want the truth?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay. I was acting over the weekend, playing a part. But honestly, I really like you. I wasn’t faking that. I enjoyed talking with you that evening.’
‘While lying to me…’
He nodded. ‘Yes, there was that. But later, when we went up to the attic, that moment wasn’t fake, I promise. There was something special about that moment under the stars, wasn’t there?’
‘I was on the rebound,’ Natalie replied, more harshly than she had intended. She chose her words more carefully. ‘I’m still getting over my relationship with Jack. I just got caught up in the moment. But I did like you. Until I found out what it was all really about.’
‘It wasn’t fake,’ he repeated.
Natalie looked around the room, reappraising the situation that she now found herself in. ‘This was all planned too, wasn’t it? You calling me, inviting me back to your place. It was all to get me to forget about what happened, to move on, and let Sir Kenneth off without any repercussions. Just like in the house, pretending to be Russell Cave, you’re doing your job, serving your employer.’
‘I was asked to speak to you, yes. But only to see if you were alright. We were – are – worried about you.’
‘We?’
‘Yes, we. Tabitha, Sir Kenneth, everyone at the company. After you left the house like that, so upset, we were really worried. We’re like that in Brand New – we’re concerned for one another. We’re a family. And we don’t want to see one of our family suffering.’
‘It was Tabitha who called you, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes. Tabitha called me. She told me what had happened. She’s worried about you, Natalie. Look, I know you’re sceptical, I was too when I first started at the company, but in time, in a short time, you’ll understand. You’ll look back and truly understand what I’m talking about. We really care.’
Natalie couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. He was speaking as if she was still going to accept the job with the company. How on earth could he think that was a possibility, after what had happened?
‘I won’t be working at Brand New.’
‘Don’t be too hasty,’ he said. ‘My advice would be to sleep on it. Things might seem very different in the morning.’
Natalie shook her head. ‘You’re just not hearing, me, Rus– whoever you are.’
‘Guy.’
‘Guy, you’re not hearing me. Look, I think I’d better go.’
She made to stand, but only got as far as the door before the room started to twist and turn, as if she were balancing on a floating barrel. She lurched for the doorframe, reaching out desperately for some stability. Suddenly she felt as if she might vomit, and she thrust her other hand to her mouth, to try and catch whatever might emerge.
‘Natalie, are you okay?’
The words seemed distant, other-worldly. She tried to say something but no sound came out. She felt the ground rise up to her and the side of her head hit the wooden floor with force. Pain rippled through her temple, as she watched the room undulating like waves, splashing up against her skin. Her power levels were at zero. She felt paralysed, trapped in her own body, and she was scared.
The last thing she could remember was Guy’s voice again. His tone was urgent. But she could only pick up isolated words, which echoed through her spinning head.
Natalie… collapsed… big trouble.
48
Previous Monday
NATALIE COULD HEAR VOICES AGAIN, echoing through the fog. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, and she certainly couldn’t tell if they were directed at her. But then the fog began to lift, and the words began to make sense.
‘Natalie, are you okay?’
The voice was soothing. It reminded her of her mother, that time when she had been holed up in bed with the flu.
‘Natalie?’
Natalie tried to open her eyes, but it was like lifting a great weight. Her body was rigid, aching; it was a real struggle to move.
What the hell was happening?
‘Are you okay, Natalie?’
The voice felt far away again now.
And then there was nothing.
‘NATALIE, please, try and wake up. It’s been hours now, we’re getting worried.’
It was the voice again. This time she realised it was the voice of a female. The voice was familiar too, but she couldn’t quite place it.
She willed herself awake. This time, her body obeyed, and her eyes opened. The light was painful, and she brought a shielding hand to her face.
‘Natalie!’ the voice said excitedly. ‘You’re awake!’
Her body still aching, she struggled to turn towards the voice.
‘It’s okay, take it slowly,’ someone said. ‘You don’t want to rush things.’
Natalie flopped back down onto what must have been a pillow as a shard of pain sliced along the side of her head.
She went to speak. ‘Where am…’
But the effort was too much.
‘I’m getting more worried,’ the girl’s voice said. ‘She should be improving by now.’
‘I know,’ a man’s voice replied.
Then, after a few seconds of lucidity, the conversation swirled away from Natalie. And again she succumbed to the darkness.
NATALIE SAW the outline of the person sitting across the room. They were tapping away on their mobile phone, oblivious to the fact that Natalie had at last opened her eyes.
She was lying in a single bed, on her back, but with her head propped up with pillows. The covers were up around her chin and tucked in at the side – she could feel the pull of the tension of the sheet, holding her in tightly.
Natalie resisted the temptation to shift into a more comfortable position, as she didn’t want to alert the person until she could get some better bearings. She blinked until the room came into better focus.
The girl in the seat.
It was Tabitha.
Almost at the same instant as her realisation, Tabitha looked up.
‘Oh,’ she said, startled at the sight of the pair of eyes looking back at her. She recovered quickly, smiling. ‘Natalie, you’re awake! Thank goodness!’
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