Darkest Night

by Jenny O'Brien

  She heaved a breath, expelling it slowly before speaking. ‘We met at uni. We were on the same course.’

  ‘And that was?’ he said, now tapping away on his computer.

  ‘We were studying classics at St Augusta’s College, Cambridge.’

  He whistled through his teeth. ‘St Augusta’s College, hmm. I thought myself lucky to get into Manchester.’

  ‘Yes, well. I only applied on a whim, never thinking for a moment that they’d accept me,’ she said with a smile. ‘I was lucky, or at least …’ She hesitated, taking a moment to think it through. ‘I thought I was lucky. Now I’m not so sure.’

  ‘So, you met at uni and what else? Did you share a room? Were you good mates? Is that how she ended up sharing your flat?’

  ‘No, no and no,’ she said, glancing at the clock above the door. ‘It’s complicated and I gather you don’t have a great deal of time?’

  ‘Christine, I’ll make time, all right.’ He picked up his phone from the table before continuing. ‘Do you mind if I …?’

  ‘No. go ahead,’ she said, deliberately averting her attention from where he was laboriously texting out a message with his index finger, only refocusing when he’d set his mobile back on the table.

  ‘Your … ex-husband has been in touch by the way.’

  She took a moment to process his comment. Paul getting in touch with her solicitor. Why? She tried to read Andy’s expression, but it was as bland as his exterior.

  Instead of asking the question he was probably expecting, all she said was, ‘Oh.’

  ‘He’s been in touch with your parents too.’ He fiddled with his tie. ‘You do know you won’t be able to see anyone while you’re here and that I’m unable to relay any messages?’

  ‘The detective did say.’

  ‘Yes, well, he … I thought you’d like to know that he’s concerned.’ He tightened the knot on his tie before giving a small cough into his hand. ‘So, you were going to tell me about Nikki Jones?’

  She dropped her eyelids, her thoughts travelling back to their first meeting.

  Chapter 12

  Nikki

  2008

  Cambridge

  Day one of the rest of Nikki’s life went pretty much as any of the days previously. Oh, instead of the two-up two-down situated in the centre of Barnsley, she was surrounded by the illustrious red-brick walls of one of the oldest, most prestigious universities around. Just as, instead of the flat vowels of the Yorkshire accent, she was exposed to a cultural mix and ethnic richness that had her dizzy with excitement and expectation. But she’d arrived alone with her single suitcase and scruffy rucksack and she was still alone.

  She propped herself up against the pillow that evening, trying to close both her mind and her ears to the noises outside her door. There was a first-night party of sorts, all very last minute, arranged by the tall, bubbly redhead in the room next door. Everyone had pooled their stash of precious home-baked goodies and the sound of laughter echoing along the corridors was matched by the thump of music pounding through the walls.

  There was no reason why she shouldn’t open her door and mingle with the crowd. After all, she was the same: a stranger in a strange place. She even looked the same in her jeans and with her hair tied back in a ponytail. But something held her back. Shyness? Insecurity? Awkwardness? A mixture of all three? Or the realisation that she could never be the same as the herd of what sounded like elephants, racing up and down the halls.

  She sat up, shifting the base of her ponytail from digging into the back of her neck. Her gaze focused on her arms where they were resting against her thighs. There was nothing to see, not really. Only a long-sleeved sweatshirt in plain black. But she knew what it was hiding …

  Pulling back the cuff, Nikki stared down at the faded-to-pale slivers that mapped her flesh like some crazy multi-bypass, a frown appearing. She found it hard to remember how she’d managed to reach a place where cutting herself wasn’t the most important thing. Funnily enough, her hated stepfather, for all his pale blue eyes following her around the house, was the first one to realise what she was up to. But instead of running to her mum, to use it as a bargaining tool to ease their increasingly fraught relationship, he’d never mentioned it after that first time and when her mother had finally thrown him out, she regretted that he hadn’t tried to at least help her face up to her problem instead of letting her flounder on alone. She’d needed help. It was only now, as an adult, that she realised quite how much.

  Instead of reaching for a knife, she searched in her bag and found the bottle she was looking for at the bottom. She poured out some of the clear liquid into her palm, noticing how her hands trembled in anticipation. Massaging oil into her skin, such a simple act, both soothed her mind and settled her anxiety to a level that even she could cope with, her fingertips finding the ridged scar closest to her left wrist. The ugliest, angriest of the lot and the one that had caused her to be admitted to the local hospital for a night. She couldn’t believe, after all these years, that she’d managed to get it so spectacularly wrong and it was that mistake that had directed her towards seeking professional help.

  The noise outside her door, heralding a pile of partygoers bursting into her room, had her fumbling for her sleeves. But the expression, quickly masked, on the redhead’s face told her that she hadn’t been quite quick enough. Nikki was used to other people’s reactions but that didn’t mean they didn’t hurt. Surprise. Confusion. Disgust. Horror. Even sympathy – she’d had them all. People amazed her with their attitude – she couldn’t begin to list the cruel things that had been said over the years, things she couldn’t bear to think about, let alone repeat.

  Nikki stood, the varnished floorboards cold under her bare feet, her chin thrust high. Christine, that was it. Christine with her slim body and glorious titian hair. She watched her pushing the couple of lads back out through the door and shutting it firmly in their face before speaking.

  ‘They didn’t see … anything, if that’s what’s worrying you?’ Christine said, walking across the room and propping herself on the corner of the desk, a bottle of beer dangling from between her fingers.

  ‘I’m not worried about them,’ Nikki said, gritting her teeth.

  Five-foot-two in her bare feet was no match to her opponent’s willowy five-foot-eight or nine. She felt her temper rise at Christine’s continued examination. She was in her room uninvited, trailing the smell of cheap booze and cigarettes in her wake and Nikki, for once, didn’t know what to do to make her leave.

  In an attempt at casualness, she settled back against the bed. ‘Say your piece and then leave me alone. You have no right to be here, I certainly didn’t invite you.’

  Christine’s eyes widened. ‘My piece? What are you expecting me to say, Nikki? I’m not here to give you a hard time.’

  ‘So, what’s keeping you then? There’s nothing for you here.’

  ‘Nothing.’ Christine looked around at the bare walls and the still unpacked rucksack in the corner. ‘I thought that as we’re neighbours …’ She shook her head and suddenly jumped away from the desk, her boots making a dull thud. ‘I’m sorry for interrupting,’ she said, as if suddenly coming to a decision about something – Nikki couldn’t begin to guess what. ‘If you need anything, anything at all, all you have to do is thump on the wall, they’re like paper.’

  Chapter 13

  Christine

  Monday 11 May, 11.15 a.m. St Asaph Police Station

  ‘I don’t know what to say. It’s not as if we were friends or anything but I felt a connection with Nikki, if that makes sense?’ Christine said, not really expecting a reply. ‘She was an oddball. Oh, as clever as you like. You know that saying “too clever for your own good”? Well, that was Nikki down to a tee. Someone uncomfortable in her own skin.’ She stared down at her wrists, resting on the desk, a shiver tracing itself across her spine at the sight of her smooth unblemished arms.

  Andy touched her shoulder to get her attention a
nd she looked back up into his face, her expression as trusting as a child’s.

  ‘Did you know she self-harmed? She’d tried to give up many times, but it was always the same. At the first sign of any stress in her life, she always returned to the knife. I tried to help, but she’d never let me close enough and the one time when I did manage to …’ She spread her arms wide. ‘She ended up dead and I find myself the person most likely to have bumped her off.’

  ‘So, how is it she came to be living with you?’ he questioned, ‘It doesn’t come across that you were the best of friends or anything.’

  ‘You could say that,’ she said, her brow puckering. ‘But funny as it seems, I did like her. Oh, a lot of that had to do with feeling sorry for the way she lived her life. She was determined to socially isolate herself from anyone and everyone that could have made a difference. The only person that could get through to her was Paul, my ex-husband and even then, she took his kindness completely the wrong way.’

  He lifted his head from the laptop where he was typing. ‘What way exactly?’

  ‘It’s difficult to explain. To be honest, I’m not sure if I understand it myself. I think Nikki mistook his kindness for an indication that he had feelings for her and, when she realised that he was committed to me, she went completely off the rails.’

  She focused on his tie, trying to phrase her words in a way that wouldn’t make her come across as jealous. Jealousy was the very last emotion anyone would ever feel for Nikki.

  ‘To be truthful, the reason I offered to put her up for a few weeks, until she sorted herself out, was primarily guilt. I hadn’t seen her since college. She hadn’t been in touch, not that I’d expected it. We were acquaintances who happened to undertake the same course, only that. We didn’t even live in the same part of the world, for God’s sake, so the chances of us running into each other were remote at best.’ She rested her head back against the hard edge of the plastic chair while she waited for him to respond.

  ‘Are you saying that it wasn’t a coincidence meeting after so long?

  ‘Who knows? It had been years since I’d last seen her, not since the last few days at uni. We were like ships that passed in the night. Up until bumping into her, I’d pretty much forgotten her existence.’

  ‘Carry on, I’m still listening,’ he said, his hands flying over the keys, his diction slow and clear. ‘So, how did you meet?’

  ‘That’s the funny thing,’ she considered, her voice soft. ‘I could have sworn that it was an accident. She didn’t even know about Paul and me breaking up or my move back to Llandudno.’ She lifted a hand, toying with her hearing aid, the high-pitched buzz cutting through the air, interrupting the sudden silence. ‘I’d gone into town Christmas shopping if you must know. I’m not that great in crowds.’ She tapped her ear.’ I don’t expect you to understand but these things amplify the background noise nearly as much as the rest of it. I had to get away for a bit so I headed to the prom for five minutes’ peace before finishing off. One minute I was staring out to sea, relishing in the sight and sound of the waves breaking against the stones by the pier, the next I was face-to-face with a ghost from my past.’

  ‘Surely a strange term of phrase to use?’

  ‘Not if you knew her like I did.’

  Chapter 14

  Paul

  Monday 11 May, 11.55 a.m. St Gildas School

  ‘Dr Kinnock has phoned, headmaster. He’s on his way to see you as a matter of urgency.’

  ‘Show him in when he arrives,’ Paul replied, affording a brief smile to his PA before she closed the door behind her.’

  Paul noted the time on the antique brass wall clock with a sigh. He’d thought they’d leave him until after his lunch before invading the sanctuary of his office, but he should have known better. The Board of Governors would have called an emergency meeting after that article in the Mail, linking the goings-on in Llandudno with one of the UK’s top public schools. They would have had no choice but to come and have their say.

  He took a moment to glance around the mahogany-shelved walls of his office. He’d known from the outset what the current situation with Christine would mean to his tenure at the college. The last couple of years had been a struggle to say the least. Oh, not in terms of college success. St Gildas continued to retain its stronghold on the top-ten board and, as public schools went, it had a kudos that was both hard to match and impossible to beat. The problem wasn’t with the school or indeed school life. The problem lay with him and his attitude to almost everything since his wife had walked out. While he was still achieving and exceeding the targets laid down, it was now at the expense of even a hint of a personal life. He ate, drank and slept the school and only in the darkest trench of his mind did he ever mull over what had happened to change what he’d thought the most perfect of relationships.

  He stood from where he’d been sitting, staring into space instead of dealing with the reams of paperwork that sat in the centre of his desk. He still had the report from the bursar and the job description for the post of junior PE teacher to run through, neither of which held any enthusiasm. All he could think of was the last time he’d seen Christine – not that she’d seen him. He’d made sure of that …

  He was standing in the middle of the room, hands clasped neatly behind his back, when the door was pushed open with only the briefest of knocks. Tilting his head, it took one look at the expression stamped on Dr Kinnock’s face to reinforce that this wasn’t the usual polite discussion about the budget. The revered doctor meant business. The only unexpected thing about it all, he thought, reaching out his hand to return the handshake, was his own reaction to the impromptu visit. He didn’t give a damn. This was a conversation long overdue.

  ‘Ah Paul, this is a worrying business and at a time like this too,’ Dr Kinnock said, arranging his jacket before taking the chair offered. ‘If I’d known when I met your dear wife that she’d go and get herself into the papers like that and in such a spectacular fashion …’ He shook his head.

  ‘Actually, she’s my ex-wife and, as far as I can see, it should have no impact on the school or my role here.’

  ‘How can you say that, my boy? You know the board were devastated when you divorced. A married headmaster is so much more desirable than either a single or divorced one. But for her to then go and embarrass the whole school—’

  ‘I’m sure when my ex-wife woke up beside the dead body of her murdered flatmate, the effect on the school would have been uppermost in her thoughts,’ Paul interrupted, his voice tinder-dry.

  Dr Kinnock withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow. ‘Yes, well, there’s no need to be like that.’

  ‘Like what exactly?’ he said, determined to retain the semblance of calm despite his mounting anger. ‘Someone that I care for deeply is implicated in one of the most heinous of crimes and you want me to be more concerned about any possible effect on the uptake of places? We’re full to the brim and booked solidly for the next five years so any possible effect will be negligible, and it will give the Friends of St Gildas something more interesting to gossip about when they cut the sandwiches for the summer fete.’

  ‘I can see I’m wasting my time here, headmaster,’ Dr Kinnock said, standing and heading for the door. ‘Your current attitude to recent events is disappointing to say the least. I thought you’d have realised by now that the needs of the school far outweigh the needs of one individual.’

  ‘Certainly. No man is expendable. If it makes it any easier, I’d like to tender my resignation, effective immediately.’

  Dr Kinnock turned back to challenge him, one hand on the brass door handle, his face suffusing with colour. ‘Now there’s no need to be too hasty, Paul. You must know, up to this point, we’ve been delighted with the changes you’ve wrought but—’

  ‘My mind is made up, Dr Kinnock. Mr Barnes will be fine to act in my absence. If I’d been knocked down by a bus, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, and at least it will get
you and the board out of – how did you term it? “Such a worrying business.” I’ll send you my written resignation in due course but, as of end of play today, I’ll be on gardening leave.’

  Chapter 15

  Gaby

  Monday 11 May, 12.05 p.m. St Asaph Police Station

  ‘Owen, am I pleased to see you,’ Gaby said, throwing her bag on the desk and searching in the bottom for her notepad.

  ‘Not as pleased as I am.’

  ‘Oh, was it as bad as all that?’

  ‘Worse! I’ve cleared up enough vomit and poo to fill a row of buckets.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ She hid her smile under her bent head. ‘How’s Kate?’

  ‘Luckily it seems to have only affected Pip.’

  ‘Well, that’s something at least,’ she said, plugging in her laptop and checking her phone for messages.

  ‘She’s going to stay with her parents for a few days. She’s finding it difficult now she’s over six months gone.’

  Gaby sent him a look laden with sympathy. While they didn’t tend to talk about their personal lives, she did know he was devoted to his wife and two-year-old son, Pip. Not having Kate around, even for a few days, would be bound to hit him hard.

  ‘Don’t you worry, Owen. I have more than enough work for you to barely miss them.’

  He ran his hand across his beard. ‘How did I know you were going to say that.’

  ‘Because you know me so well. Come on, put the kettle on. There’ll be just enough time to have a quick drink before the others descend on us.’

  ‘We’re out of that low-fat slop you call milk so it’s black or full-fat?’ he said, picking up the kettle and shaking it before turning it on.