But this isn’t the city, is it? After dark, there aren’t any people on the streets, nobody hurrying home from work; everyone’s back in their homes, burrowed away, safe and warm like so many little country animals, all their little secrets tucked away.
And they all feel so safe, don’t they? They’re not scared of anything. In the city everyone’s suspicious, expecting to get their purse snatched or be threatened by some random drunk. Everyone is tense, fierce, ready to react.
Not here. They’re all asleep by ten.
But that’s good. I like it.
I can wander through the village and not meet a soul; I can stand outside in their gardens and observe them, watching the football or the news or Corrie, cosy and safe with their curtains wide open, oblivious to the dark night. I try to understand them, but the only thing that keeps coming back to me is this…
These people are not my people.
I do not belong.
Sarah
The dogs launch themselves at Kitty as soon as Sarah opens the door, and Oscar, who is carrying both rucksacks, is taken aback.
‘Are you okay with dogs, Oscar?’ Sarah asks.
‘Sure,’ he says, but without any real enthusiasm. Sarah wonders if this is as excited as he gets, and then thinks generously that maybe this makes him a good match for Kitty, who is always happy and has boundless energy at any given moment.
Sarah is about to push the door open once again with her knee, holding one of the bags of shopping too, when it opens from inside. Her first thought is that Sophie has changed her mind and come after all, to see Kitty and at least have a drink. But it isn’t Sophie.
Will smiles widely and a bit apologetically. ‘Hi again,’ he says.
He stands aside to let them in. Kitty, who is clearly hyped up to maximum excitement by being home, by seeing the dogs and probably by having Oscar here, throws her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek. ‘Hello! How are you? What are you doing here?’
Will has the grace to look a little embarrassed. ‘Long story,’ he says, ‘tell you in a minute.’
‘Will, this is Oscar, Oscar, this is Will.’
The two men shake hands. Sarah sees appraisal in Will’s eyes.
‘And you are…?’ Will says. He has not let go of Oscar’s hand yet.
‘I’m with Kit,’ Oscar says.
‘Let’s put the kettle on, shall we?’ says Sarah.
Kitty takes Oscar on a tour of the house, apparently having already accepted Will’s presence without any concern.
Will is leaning against the kitchen table, looking infuriatingly relaxed.
‘Well,’ Sarah says, ‘this is a surprise. Aren’t you supposed to be house-sitting?’
‘Oh, aye. I am. I’m not stopping, don’t worry. I just thought I’d come to say hello to Kitty. Not seen her for ages.’
Sarah frowns at this, and that her assumption that Sophie was with Will has clearly turned out to be wrong. ‘Perhaps you could have given us a call, Will.’
His face clouds over. ‘Oh… right. I’m sorry. I thought you’d be here by now, anyway, and the dogs were barking, so I thought I’d settle them…’
Upstairs Sarah can hear running feet, creaking floorboards, laughter. At least Oscar seems to be relaxing a little.
‘Look, I’d really rather you didn’t just let yourself in, that’s all.’
He looks at her and then looks at the table. ‘I’ll go.’
‘No, no. You’re here now. I’m not telling you off,’ she says, although she is, she wants to, but she can’t bear the thought of upsetting him for some reason that she can’t fathom. ‘I’m just saying. Come round any time, but let me know first, okay?’
‘Sure,’ he says, his head still down.
At that moment Kitty and Oscar come thundering down the stairs. ‘Are we going out for dinner?’ Kitty says. ‘I’d like to show Oscar round the village.’
‘I’ve done a cottage pie,’ Sarah says. ‘Perhaps we could go out for a drink after?’
‘Okay,’ Kitty says. ‘Are you staying for dinner, Will?’
Will looks up at Sarah. ‘If I’m invited,’ he says.
‘Course you are,’ Kitty replies. ‘Mum always cooks far too much. That’s right, isn’t it, Mum?’
In her head Sarah resists for a fraction longer, then wonders what it is she’s fighting against. ‘Of course.’
‘Well, if you’re sure. Thanks. I can… you know, perhaps I can do the veg or something? I don’t mind helping.’
‘We’ll all do it,’ Kitty says. ‘What about your friend, Mum? Is he coming over too?’
‘Aiden? I can ask him, if you like.’
In fact, now that Will is staying for dinner too, Sarah suddenly longs for company of her own age to balance things out a little. It’s not an intimate supper getting to know Kitty’s new boyfriend any more, so she might as well ask Aiden.
She gives them all tasks to do and the atmosphere is almost jolly. Will stands at the sink scraping carrots; Kitty is putting the cottage pie into the Aga. Oscar is set to work laying the table.
The dogs follow her out into the yard. Aiden’s car is there, thank goodness, and the lights are on. But when he opens the door he looks almost surprised to see her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘Am I interrupting anything?’
‘Not at all,’ he says. ‘Coming in?’
‘No; I just came to ask if you wanted to come and have dinner with us. Maybe come out for a drink afterwards, too? My house is full of young people and I’m feeling left out.’
His smile – it melts her. ‘I’d love to. Give me two minutes? I’ll come straight over.’
The kitchen is full of noise and chaos. Tess immediately retreats to the living room, curling up by the sofa. It’s been a long time since it was this noisy. Kitty is flicking water from the sink at Will. Someone – Kitty – has brought out a portable speaker and put on music. Oscar is watching Will warily.
He has still scarcely spoken. Sarah decides maybe he is just shy. ‘Kitty says you’re doing engineering too. I didn’t realise you were in the second year.’
‘Yeah,’ he replies.
‘Oscar’s been, like, mentoring me,’ Kitty says, her hand on his shoulder.
Sarah wants to say something about how Kitty has known Oscar just a few short weeks. Such a short time that it cannot, realistically, even be measured in months.
‘Mu-u-um…’ Kitty says.
The drawn-out syllable implies that something is coming. Sarah thinks she is going to ask whether Oscar can share her room, although if she’s been upstairs she must have seen that the spare room is not made up.
‘Mum? I was thinking – wondering whether maybe I could invite Oscar to come to us for Easter? I know it’s a long way off yet…’
Sarah is momentarily speechless. This isn’t something she has thought about and she flounders for something appropriate to say. Even Will looks round, surprised, glancing from Kitty to Oscar to Sarah, trying to gauge the mood, as if he is sensing tension.
‘What about your own family, Oscar?’ Sarah says eventually.
‘It’s okay,’ he says, ‘I understand: it’s a big deal. I wish you’d waited a bit, Kit.’
Oscar suddenly goes up a peg or two in Sarah’s estimation, but he isn’t finished.
‘My parents split up,’ he continues. ‘My mum lives in the States, and my dad lives in Bolton, and he’s married again and he’s got a new family with his new wife and she hates me.’
He laughs at this, as though it is funny.
‘So, um, yeah, I don’t like to impose, so feel free to say no.’
‘If you say no, Mum, he’ll be spending two weeks in a bedsit in London on his own.’
Emotional blackmail – she wants to put her foot down. But Will is looking at her and she remembers what he was like, years ago, when he first started hanging round with Louis for much the same reason. Displaced, unwanted, homeless.
‘Of course you can come, Oscar,’ says Sarah. She would hav
e invited him anyway, because she cannot bear to think of someone being on their own like that.
‘Thank you,’ Oscar says. Kitty beams. In that moment, the door opens and Aiden comes in, bringing with him a blast of cold air. They all turn to look at him. Kitty reacts first, giving him a hug that he’s probably not ready for. Aiden shakes Oscar’s hand. Will stares.
There is something in the room, a brief thrill of something uncomfortable, unpleasant. Sarah can’t identify what it is and for a moment she wishes she hadn’t invited Aiden over. But seconds later, with Kitty laughing and joking and putting everyone at ease, whatever it was has gone.
‘Let’s eat,’ Sarah says.
The Royal Oak is crowded, as it always is on a Friday night, but that just makes for a lively atmosphere. Aiden buys the drinks and Kitty proposes a toast: to new beginnings. Sarah thinks she is talking about Oscar, who is starting to relax. He has a beer in front of him and for the first time Sarah takes a moment to study him properly. He’s not quite emo – maybe he was at one point, earlier in his teenage years, but now he’s grown out of it. He has dark hair that’s longish and untidy and not in any sort of style; pale skin and dark eyes. He has uneven teeth and hides them frequently, touching his mouth or not speaking unless he has to. But Sarah notices the look in his eyes when he is watching Kitty; he gazes at her when she’s talking, as if he’s listening intently. He has his arm casually around the back of her chair, but every so often Sarah sees him stroking her shoulder with his thumb.
Meanwhile, Will is looking uncomfortable. He has chosen to sit with his back to the room, opposite Sarah, keeping his head down.
When Kitty and Oscar are deep in conversation about a mutual friend, Sarah asks him if he is okay.
‘Yeah, yeah, sure. Why?’
‘You look a little – I don’t know. Out of sorts?’
He tries to look defiant. ‘Feels a bit like I’m taking advantage,’ he says. ‘You giving me dinner, taking me out, you know.’
‘Why shouldn’t you come with us?’ Kitty asks, diving in. ‘You’re practically one of the family.’
And Aiden, who was quiet and thoughtful all through the meal, has still hardly said a word. It’s making her feel twitchy, that he doesn’t feel able to join in, that he’s barely spoken to Kitty. She wants badly for them to get on. When Will gets up to go to the bathroom, and Kitty and Oscar are deep in conversation, she also asks him if he’s okay.
‘Sure,’ he says. ‘Why?’
‘You’re very quiet.’
He grins. ‘I like watching people, that’s all. I like trying to work out what’s really going on.’
‘That sounds deep. What do you mean?’
‘It’s nothing sinister. There’s always a subtext, that’s all. Other things.’
‘Such as?’
He glances to Kitty and Oscar, who are on the other side of the table. He puts his arm over the back of the chair and gets close enough to Sarah’s ear to murmur, ‘She likes him much more than he likes her. He’s not ready for the sort of relationship she wants. But he doesn’t want to hurt her.’
Sarah frowns at him. She could probably have guessed at something similar, judging by Oscar’s reticence, but – really? To categorise people like that? It makes her wonder what he thinks about her. In that moment she feels picked apart, examined. It’s not a nice feeling.
‘You think you’re such a good judge of character, don’t you? But you don’t know everything about everybody.’
‘Well, I do think Kitty is doing a good job of winning him over,’ he says, surprised. ‘So who knows?’
He’s looking at her carefully, as if he’s trying to work out what he’s said to upset her.
‘What about Will and Sophie, then?’ she says challengingly.
Aiden looks over in the direction of the Gents’. ‘I wouldn’t like to say.’
Moments later, Will is back, and for a change she is pleased to see him.
‘I’d better get going,’ he says. ‘Thanks for the drink. I’ll see you soon, yeah?’
‘Do you need a lift anywhere?’ Sarah asks.
‘No, it’s just up the road. I’ll be fine. Thanks again.’
Sarah watches him go. Aiden removes his arm from the back of her seat. She wonders if Kitty noticed it had been there. She has not dated anyone, since Jim died. The subject has come up, once or twice, and Sarah has batted it off with vague exhortations that she’s too busy, or can’t be bothered, or that decent single men are a bit thin on the ground in rural North Yorkshire.
Then he says, ‘But there’s something he’s not telling us. Something big. I can’t work it out,’ and she realises he is still thinking about Will.
Sarah parks the Land Rover in the barn and everyone climbs out. Kitty and Oscar go ahead, arms round each other.
‘You want to come over later?’ Aiden asks.
Kitty opens the door and the dogs rush out, dancing around them. Oscar looks a bit less alarmed this time.
‘I don’t think so,’ Sarah says.
She looks across at him. It’s dark, but the security light above the workshop has lit up enough to see the disconcerted expression on his face.
‘I’d better take the dogs out,’ she adds.
‘Shall I come with you?’
‘I’ll be fine,’ she says. He gives her a little backwards wave to acknowledge it, and Sarah whistles for the dogs.
It’s very dark on the hill and it takes a while for Sarah’s eyes to adjust. She keeps her head down, thinking about Aiden. She had been looking forward to him getting to know Kitty, and for her to meet him; and yet all he’d done with the evening was to pick imaginary holes in Kitty’s new relationship.
Sarah is suddenly aware of something right in front of her and she stops, gasps in shock: but it’s only the croft, the shape of it unfamiliar in the darkness. Tess is at her side, sniffing at the doorway, and Sarah thinks she is going to have a go at it again, but after a cursory examination the dog skirts the wall and runs off into the darkness.
Sarah stands still. Everything looks different in the gloom; the only light comes from the moon, which is full but mostly hidden behind high clouds. The door to the croft is a dark rectangle against the grey stone, a black mouth, beckoning her in. She takes a step forward, places her hand against the wood. It is cold, rough against her palm. She gives it a little push. The door holds firm. Close to the croft, the air still, her breathing echoes back at her, making it sound as though there is someone standing right behind her.
She turns, quickly, but of course there is nobody there.
But now she doesn’t want to be out here any more; she wants to be inside, with Kitty. She starts back down the hill, calling the dogs, looking down at her house with all the upstairs lights on; how bright and cheerful it looks!
She stops dead.
The window to the bathroom is illuminated and she can see, clearly, Kitty standing next to the bath, tipping a bag full of what is probably dirty laundry into the basket. Oscar comes up behind her, wraps his arms around her waist. Kitty turns and kisses him.
Aiden’s wrong, she thinks; he likes her too. He’s just shy about showing it yet.
She should be uncomfortable about watching them when they are so clearly unaware of her presence but for some reason she can’t tear her eyes away. They’re both fully dressed, they are just kissing – admittedly it’s pretty full-on – but it feels good to see Kitty’s happiness and Oscar’s affection. Then they turn and leave, and abruptly the light snaps off, leaving a dark square.
The spell is broken, and Sarah shivers.
She was in a crappy mood earlier. I could tell, I could feel it coming off her in waves. Women are like that, they change like the wind, trying to fool you; one minute they’re smiling at you and the next, they’ve got a face like stone and you’ve said something wrong.
I wanted to tell her: you don’t get to treat me like that.
You think I don’t know people, I wanted to say – see through thei
r façades, their lies, the way they cover up? Well, I do. I’ve been away a long time and I’ve seen some things you wouldn’t believe; the things people do to each other.
I am the keeper of your secrets, I wanted to tell her. I know you. I know everything about you, what keeps you awake at night, your jealousies, your hurts, your petty little insecurities. I know what makes you cry. I know the noise you make when you come.
I keep all of your secrets tucked inside me, and you know what? It makes me powerful. It makes me hard.
I wanted to fuck her there and then against the car, fuck her hard to take her mind off it all. If I’d insisted, she would have gone along with it. She needs it, she needs to be told what to do.
But for now I can let her think this is all her idea; that she’s calling the shots. Play her silly game.
I can wait.
It’ll be fun when I take over, when all of her secrets come tumbling out for everyone to see.
If only she had a clue.
Sarah
Sarah is lying awake, listening.
The house is perfectly quiet. She glances across at the bedside clock. Nearly half-past one.
She wonders what woke her, and she turns in bed because she has a sudden sense of a draught, a breath, a movement; but nothing is there. The door to the hallway is still closed, the way she left it. The curtains are open so that she wakes with the daylight, but for now it is just the moon shining through her window and leaving a bright pale patch of light on the duvet. She strains to hear sounds coming from Kitty’s bedroom, wondering if something there has woken her up; but again, there is nothing. Not even a snore.
Sarah closes her eyes, turns over and pulls the duvet up to her chin.
She waits.
It’s no good: she is not sleepy any more. Perhaps it’s the hour she spent with Aiden, earlier; she’d stayed up and chatted to Kitty and Oscar, hoping they weren’t waiting for her to go to bed first. But Kitty had drunk enough wine to be tired, and Sarah wasn’t surprised when she headed up the stairs just before eleven. To his credit, Oscar had waited for a moment, as if he was about to ask Sarah where he was allowed to sleep.
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