Dark Corners

by Darren O’Sullivan

  ‘Have you not thought about this?’ he persisted.

  ‘No.’

  ‘No, you just moved to London, brushed us all under an old carpet.’ His words stung, but I didn’t correct him. ‘The Drifter, whoever he was, was just a man, he wasn’t a ghost, he wasn’t Georgia’s dad, he wasn’t a kid killer. He was just someone who missed the mine. Someone who wanted to care for it. That’s why we saw him there. That’s why he chased us out that night. He was trying to scare us from hurting ourselves. He wasn’t in the wrong, we were. And then he got the blame. We’ll never know who he was, but I know one thing. We ruined the chance for him to have anything like a normal life.’

  ‘You don’t know that, Michael, you’re speculating.’

  ‘Am I? The Drifter was all over the news. And he knew it was him they were referring to. Imagine always looking over your shoulder, Neve, always waiting to be caught.’ I knew exactly how that felt. ‘Always waiting to be caught for something you didn’t do,’ he said, as if reading my mind. ‘We ruined his life, and now he is doing to us what we claimed he did back then.’

  ‘Fine, let’s say that’s what’s happening. But why now, Michael? It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘I don’t know, Holly, because we are getting on with our lives? I don’t know why he’s waited this long, but if I were him, if any of us were him, wouldn’t we do the same? Wouldn’t we want revenge?’

  We fell silent. I hadn’t thought about the consequences of having the world look for the Drifter. I didn’t think what it must have done to that person, whoever they were. I had ruined not only our lives, but I had ruined his too. And now he was back to make us all pay.

  ‘So, what do we do now?’ Holly asked.

  ‘I guess, we find him, before he finds us.’

  ‘And what about Hastings, and the DCI?’

  ‘We need them to stay focused on the now.’

  ‘How do we do that?’ asked Holly.

  ‘Lie,’ I said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Lie,’ I repeated quietly. ‘Holly, you need to tell them you have seen the Drifter too.’

  ‘Neve, I can’t do that.’

  ‘You’ve lied before. And this isn’t really a lie at all. He is out there.’

  ‘Like we lied in ninety-eight – like that, Neve,’ Michael hissed. ‘Look how well that’s worked out for us.’

  ‘This will make it go away. Tell them about the Drifter, tell them you’ve seen him around the mine or outside your house. Even better, say you’ve seen him outside Baz’s house. It will make him focus on what he should be seeing, not looking for anything else.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Holly?!’ Michael said.

  ‘She’s right. It makes sense,’ Holly said, defeated but knowing it was the only thing we could do. ‘I’ll call it in first thing.’

  ‘Do it tonight, late, say midnight.’

  Holly didn’t respond but nodded.

  ‘And Thompson?’ Michael added.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m hoping he and Hastings will talk, share information, but I doubt it. Thompson didn’t seem keen on Hastings,’ I said with a pause. ‘But he seemed to trust me.’

  ‘So, what are you going to do?’

  ‘I guess I’ll keep him sweet. Keep him focused on what’s happening right now to us.’

  I took out my phone and unlocked it.

  ‘Who are you messaging?’ Holly asked.

  ‘Him. I’ll meet, keep him looking the wrong way Thompson.’

  I messaged him. My hands shook as I did. I needed to make this go away, I owed it to them all.

  Are you free for a drink this evening? I feel like I need someone to talk to.

  Chapter 39

  July 1998

  Five days before…

  The heat of the day held deep into the night, and at nearly 11 p.m., it showed no signs of letting go. The air was hot and thick in Neve’s bedroom despite her windows being wide open. Each time the warm breeze picked up, the wooden frame groaned under the strain, threatening to split. But it made little difference. There was no respite from the ground-cracking heat that had sucked the moisture from the air.

  Neve lay on her bed. Her covers were scrunched into a ball at the end of it. On the wall beside her a poster of The Backstreet Boys smiled back. Beside them, one of NSYNC, who they all had a huge crush on. Perfect smiles on the faces of perfect boys with perfect teeth. On the floor next to the bed sat Chloe and beside her, the hem of her top pushed high up her midriff, exposing her stomach, lay Georgia. She was too hot to care that a deep bruise on her ribs was visible. Holly wasn’t there. She had been caught by the police when Michael stole the booze from Mr Busby’s off-licence, and despite them not arresting her, they insisted – as it was late, and she had been drinking – they needed to take her home. Michael, who made it home unscathed, said he could hear her parents shouting at her from his house in the next street. They’d not seen her since, and no one had mentioned it beyond Michael’s testimony of how much shit she was in.

  In the background Georgia’s mixtape played, and they all succumbed to the sounds of Boyz II Men serenading them. Chloe and Georgia hadn’t intended to stay so late. The boys were away with Baz’s dad in Nottingham, so it gave the girls the perfect excuse to gossip, and before they knew it the strong summer sun had slipped behind the horizon and night staked its claim. They spoke idly of leaving school, their prospects for their exams results and, in their absence, the boys. Georgia was called out for liking Baz, making her blush. Neve knew Georgia wouldn’t stand a chance, for Baz – for all of his bravado and pranks – was secretly a bit of a romantic, and his affections were directed towards Chloe. Content they had teased Georgia enough, Chloe thought it would be fair to turn the attention towards Neve, asking for juicy details about Jamie. Neve resisted, only reiterating what they all knew. They kissed two days ago on the bench near the country park.

  ‘Aw, come on, Neve. You must have more!’ teased Georgia, happy the topic of conversation had moved away from herself and Baz.

  ‘Honestly, there isn’t anything to tell,’ Neve said defensively.

  ‘There must be!’ pushed Georgia.

  ‘I promise.’

  ‘Come on, Neve,’ Chloe said exasperatedly, rising to her knees. ‘You have to tell us something, it’s killing me not knowing.’

  ‘There is nothing left to tell.’

  ‘You can’t hold out on us. We don’t have secrets from each other. And besides, you and Jamie is the only thing happening in this crappy village.’

  ‘I’m not holding out, Chloe, honestly. I just don’t know what’s going on with me and him. I haven’t seen him since.’

  Since their kiss, Jamie had disappeared. It had only been two days. But after weeks of speaking every day, it felt longer. He was working with his dad at the pub, that was normal. Neve hoped she’d not seen him for that reason alone and not because he’d realised he didn’t like her. It had played on her mind since he hadn’t kissed her goodnight after walking her home.

  ‘Do you think he’s gone off me?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘No,’ said Chloe. ‘Of course not. He’s just shy, and busy helping his dad. From what I gather, since the mine closed, the pub’s been quieter than usual.’

  ‘So why does he have to be there so much?’ Neve asked, desperately.

  ‘Jamie’s dad had to let go of most of his staff. Jamie is working instead. Probably costs his dad less to employ a 16-year-old. It’s a bit shit really, isn’t it? I mean, the mine closing has really fucked things up for us,’ Chloe said quietly to no one in particular. ‘I heard my dad saying they are probably going to fill it in soon.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That’s what they’ve done with all the other mines. Once they’re closed, they throw a load of dirt down there and fill it.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Neve, thinking about what Jamie had said about one day going down into the mine. Perhaps he wouldn’t get the chance. ‘It’s kinda sad.’

&
nbsp; ‘No way, it’s a good thing,’ said Georgia. ‘Fucking place is creepy.’

  ‘Yeah, but still. It would have been good to go down it, see for ourselves. I bet the boys would be up for it,’ Neve said, motivated by the assumption that Jamie would approve of the idea.

  ‘Are you saying we should break in?’ Georgia smiled.

  ‘Why not? By the sounds of it, it might be our only chance.’

  Outside, the breeze picked up again, snapping the window open, the wooden frame cracking under the strain, making Chloe jump. Worried it would snap entirely, Neve got up to put the latch on, and as she did, she saw the shape of someone walking away from her house, in the direction of the mine. Their form was only defined when it was directly under one of the working streetlights. Even still, Neve knew it was him.

  ‘Shit, guys. Look.’

  Chloe and Georgia sprang up to the window to peer outside.

  ‘Fuck, is that him?’ Georgia asked. ‘So creepy, what is he doing?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Neve said quietly.

  The Drifter stopped under a streetlight and looked up at it. Neve gave the others a confused glance, and a shiver ran up her spine as she saw the mild panic in their faces. He stood, unmoving, just looking at the light. It was weird, unnerving, but they couldn’t take their eyes off him.

  ‘He must be bloody boiling,’ continued Georgia, noticing his dark trousers and long workman’s coat. ‘This is so creepy. He looks like he’s from a different time.’

  Chloe didn’t comment, she just watched while the colour slowly drained from her face.

  ‘Chloe, is that is the same man you saw near the mine?’ Georgia asked. Chloe didn’t respond but nodded, unable to look away.

  As Neve and Georgia turned back to look at him, he was no longer fixated on the light above him, and instead had turned his attention in the direction of her house. He had seen them at Neve’s window. Neve panicked, pulling the curtains closed, and Georgia dropped to the floor to hide under the windowsill. Chloe stood frozen to the spot. Neve dragged Chloe down with her, and the three of them pressed their backs against the wall directly under the window.

  ‘What the fuck?’ Neve asked, rhetorically, not noticing Chloe’s terrified expression. ‘How did he know we were there?’

  ‘What if he comes to the house?’ said Georgia, her words snagging in her throat.

  ‘Hang on, I’ll look.’

  Neve slowly turned and shuffled onto the balls of her feet. Hiding behind the window ledge, she slowly raised herself behind so her eye line came above the window frame. She looked from outside her house and traced the road down towards the light where he stood. But he had gone. She looked further down the road; he wasn’t there. He had vanished, just like smoke.

  She told them he had disappeared, and Georgia breathed a sigh of relief. Chloe, however, remained quiet, her face ashen.

  ‘Chloe? Are you all right?’ Neve asked, and all Chloe could do was nod.

  ‘Chloe? What’s wrong?’

  Chloe took a deep breath and told them she was fine.

  Chapter 40

  1st December 2019

  Night

  We left the hut separately: first Holly, then a few minutes later Michael, and after a cigarette, I crawled out of the hatch. I hoped I would never come back. The hut wasn’t the place it once was for me, for us. And being inside only brought pain and sadness. I began to walk back towards the village in the pouring rain and by the time I reached the pub, the damp that was confined to my toes had climbed up my socks, making my whole body feel cold.

  As I closed the door behind me, I felt the room quieten, just for a beat, before the noise returned.

  Taking off my coat, I shook excess water off and scanned the room to see if Thompson was there. I couldn’t see him. That didn’t mean much. Approaching the bar, Derrick had his head down, pouring a Coke; he looked tired and I couldn’t remember if the last time I saw him, I asked how he was. It seemed with Georgia, and now Baz, going missing, and what that meant, Jamie had been forgotten. He was still a part of the gossip, but now he was more of a secondary character. As I drew closer, he looked up. He shook his head and then flicked a glance to the right. I followed, and saw Hastings at the end of the bar, his back to me, talking into his phone. Looking back to Derrick, he flicked his head to the left and understanding, I walked around the bar, towards the darkest corner and sat at the same table I’d seen Thompson on my first night.

  Derrick approached, a large drink in his hand, and he put it down in front of me.

  ‘I got you a JD, I hope that’s all right?’

  ‘It’s perfect, thank you. And thank you for giving me the heads-up.’

  ‘Hastings is always here; I don’t know why he isn’t out finding the three of them.’

  ‘I think that new DCI has put his nose out of joint.’

  ‘He’s a spoilt little shit. More concerned with theories and speculation than doing any actual work. Like he’s that investigator fella from the old books. You know, the Agatha Christie ones.’

  ‘Poirot,’ I smiled; Derrick and I had the same assumption of the weaselly little man in the police uniform.

  ‘Yes, that’s the fella. And, I want you to know, he doesn’t much like you.’

  ‘I know. What’s he said?’

  ‘He keeps on about how what’s happening is connected to Chloe. And that you know more than you let on about it.’

  He waited for me to reply – intently watching, trying to see if there was any truth in what Hastings was saying.

  ‘He was the same back in 1998. He was part of the reason I left. Derrick, he scares me a bit.’

  His look softened. ‘Well, don’t worry. He’ll not bother you while you’re in here.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Don’t mention it.’

  Derrick affectionately tapped me on the forearm twice and headed back to the bar. As he did, Thompson passed him coming the other way, towards me. Derrick paused, turned and caught my eye. I smiled, telling him I was all right. He smiled back but didn’t look convinced as he rounded the corner to serve another customer. Thompson approached the table, nodded, removed his heavy coat and sat himself down opposite me with a heave.

  ‘Thanks for coming out, DCI…’

  ‘Robert.’

  ‘Robert.’

  ‘Is everything all right, Miss Chambers?’

  ‘Yes, I think,’ I said, clipped, knowing he was trying to pry beyond my wellbeing. ‘If I’ve got to call you Robert, will you call me Neve?’

  ‘Seems like a fair request. So, how are you doing, Neve?’

  I don’t know why, but it was in this moment the walls crashed down and my emotions flooded over me. I wasn’t all right, I was far from it. With Oliver, the café robbery and Dad’s health all existing underneath the horror of me and my friends being picked off one by one, I was shocked I’d made it so far without falling into pieces. I didn’t cry, I just buried my head into my hands and held my breath until I was sure I wouldn’t pass out. Thankfully, the moment passed.

  ‘Let me get us a couple of drinks,’ he said, giving me a little space to get my thoughts back in order. I knew what he was doing; he was playing the classic good cop thing he’d done back in 1998. I didn’t mind. After a few minutes he returned with a pint for him, and another JD for me. I wasn’t sure if he asked Derrick, or if he knew what I drank. I hoped the former. I didn’t like him being that observant. He may be older, but his mind was still keen. I needed to be careful of what I said, and how I said it.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said as I took the drink from his broad, ageing hand. It would be easy to drink several drinks tonight, but I knew this would be my last this evening, just enough booze floating around to take off the edge. But nothing more.

  ‘So, I’m assuming we aren’t here for a social drink. Neve, what’s on your mind?’

  ‘I guess I’m just having a hard time with it all.’

  ‘Specifically?’ he said, clearly in no mood for sma
ll talk.

  ‘That no one in this village believes me about the Drifter.’

  ‘Well, you can’t blame them, can you? He is a person you and your friends claimed to have seen the night Chloe disappeared.’

  ‘Not just that night. We saw him for weeks leading up to…’ I hesitated; I didn’t want to say ‘the night Chloe disappeared’.

  ‘Yes, I remember, he was hanging around. She even wrote in her diary about how he had seen her outside her house on a few occasions.’ I nodded and looked down, my fingernails were dirty. I couldn’t remember the last time I painted them.

  ‘I’m assuming you know about what happened to me in 2003?’ I said quietly, forcing myself to hold his gaze when he looked towards me.

  ‘Yes. Hastings told me. He said it made you unreliable.’

  I thought as much. ‘Robert, yes, I did have an episode when I was young, I’m not going to deny that to anyone, but I have seen him here. I promise you, this isn’t the same thing.’

  He continued to hold my gaze for a moment, considering me; I couldn’t get a read of what he was thinking. Eventually, he leant back, took a few mouthfuls of his pint and nodded.

  ‘As I’ve said, I believe you.’

  ‘Robert, who is he?’

  Looking over my head he observed the other patrons in the pub, assessing them with his smoky eyes. Content we were not being watched or listened to, he leant in slightly and spoke in a hushed tone.

  ‘Back then, the future of the mine wasn’t set. We didn’t know that it would become a place of historical interest and protected, like it is now. In fact, the word was it would be filled and bulldozed. Probably turned into a block of flats. The company that owned the mine employed people to salvage what they could from down there – tools, materials, things that could be sold on abroad. We always believed your “Drifter” was one of these employees. It explains why he was around the mine. It also explains why no one knew who he was. These employees usually came from outside the village. You know, cash-in-hand types.’

  ‘Why would they employ people from outside? Wasn’t most of the village out of work?’