She nodded. ‘I didn’t mean to …’
‘But you didn’t call anyone, an ambulance?’
‘I was scared. What if they thought I’d done it on purpose? And when I checked, he was already dead. He’d cracked his head open in the fall.’
‘But what did you do with the body?’
Caitlin stood up, pacing the floor. She stopped by the sink, couldn’t look at him as she explained what had happened. ‘It was early evening. I waited, sat by him, I kept thinking he’d wake up even though I knew he was dead. I thought if I left him for a minute I’d come back to find him gone. After a while I got a sleeping bag and rolled him inside, zipping it up like a body bag. I thought of all the cases I’d read in the newspapers, of bodies being found in shallow graves in the mountains, and I thought I’d wait until dark. But then I also knew I couldn’t risk anyone ever finding him.
‘The bell rang when I was in the hall trying to pull the sleeping bag into the kitchen. I managed to get it out of sight, dragged it under the stairs. I stayed quiet, hoping I hadn’t been heard. I crept into the sitting room. The bell went again, and I stayed crouched under the window. A few minutes later I heard a van start and, like you said, it was Andy. For a minute, I almost ran out after him, thinking I could ask him to help me, but then he was gone, and I didn’t.’
‘I still don’t understand why you didn’t phone someone? It was an accident; it could have happened to anyone.’
‘I don’t know, I was frightened no one would believe me. If it came out that David was having an affair, if the girl came forward, I’d have been the one in the frame; it’s what you thought as soon as you heard, after all.’
‘So, what did you do after Andy left?’
‘I waited until about one in the morning. It was so quiet, all the neighbours gone to bed. I went outside, unlocked the car and made space in the boot. Then I dragged the sleeping bag with David in it and managed to get him inside. I got in the car and I drove. I didn’t know where to go, but I knew I had to get him far from the house. Then I remembered a place he used to go – he’d taken me there once – it was a reservoir out past the N81, a flooded valley. On a clear day, he told me, you could still see what remained of the village beneath. You weren’t allowed to swim there, because too many people had drowned. But the day we went together we did it anyway … found a secluded spot.
‘I drove out there, to the lake, down the little laneway between the trees until I came to the spot. It was pitch-black. When I got there I realized I couldn’t just roll him in: the water was too shallow at the edges. Somebody would find him. So instead I took a flashlight from the boot and I searched around in the trees until I found some rocks. I gathered them, enough to weigh down the sleeping bag, and I put them inside with David, and drove back up to the bridge. There was nobody around. I hauled the bag from the boot – it was even harder then because of the rocks – but I managed to drag him to the edge and I pushed him over, heard him hit the water below. I was crying so hard I couldn’t see anything. I made my way down under the bridge and shone the light out onto the water. The bag was still there, but it didn’t take long for it to sink.
‘Later that night I phoned Andy. It must have been about three in the morning. I told him David hadn’t come home and asked if he was sleeping at Andy’s place. The next morning, he called me back. He came over and we went to the Garda station where I reported David missing. I prayed there were enough rocks to keep the sleeping bag down. I watched the news every day in the days that followed, terrified that they’d find his body. But there was nothing. Luckily for me, the guards were totally inept. It didn’t even seem like they tried very hard.
‘And that’s it. That’s what I did. It wasn’t right, I know that, but I can’t undo it now. I can’t go telling the guards that I panicked, that I drove out there and dumped David in the lake.’
Nick exhaled. For a moment he seemed lost for words. ‘You’ll have to show me,’ he said. ‘I’ll need to know exactly where you threw him in.’
‘What, now?’
He shrugged. ‘Why not? The sooner the better for me to get all the details together. We don’t know what your friend Andy might do.’
‘And what if someone saw you coming in here? People have seen us together before now, they might still think I was involved. Andy, for instance, why should he believe that you acted alone, that we weren’t in this together?’
‘Andy Quinn is in love with you. Right now, he’s torn between his feelings for you and doing what’s right by David. He’ll be happy to see you in the clear. As for suspecting that we’re in league, I’ll just have to convince him that I’m a big enough creep to have wanted your husband out of the picture so I could have you to myself.’
‘And what about Michelle, does she know your plan?’
‘I don’t want Michelle involved in this.’
She didn’t believe him; Michelle had to know. She’d been in on everything from the beginning. Nick had trusted her enough to tell her what had happened at his hypnosis sessions, and she’d stuck by him. Michelle was the one who’d made contact with Caitlin first and all because Nick had wanted to meet her. Of course, he must have discussed his suspicions with her too.
‘But Michelle is involved. You can’t help that. What’s she going to think if you suddenly hand yourself over to the police for killing my husband? Do you think she’s going to be okay with that, Nick, just because she’s gone along with everything else up to now? There’s no way she will. You might be able to convince Andy, but not your own girlfriend, not when she knows what she does.’
‘Michelle doesn’t know about the prognosis. When I tell her, she won’t go against me, not if I tell her that this is what I want … my dying wish … Trust me, you won’t have to worry about that.’
She bit a nail. ‘Yeah, well I am worried. I can’t have anyone knowing the truth, Nick. What if she goes to the guards before you have a chance to go to them yourself? What if she can’t bear to see you go down for something that I did? What then?’
‘She won’t. I know Michelle. She’s stuck by me through everything. She’s not stupid, she’ll understand why I’m doing it. Look, I admit I’m no saint. If I wasn’t dying I probably wouldn’t be doing this, but as it is, I’ve got nothing to lose. Now, there’s something I’ve got to take care of, but how about I meet you back here in a little over an hour? We’ll drive out to the lake and you can show me the place …’
Caitlin took a step towards him. ‘Where are you going? How do I know you’re not going to talk to someone?’
‘I am, but not about this – you’ll have to trust me on that – right now I’ve an appointment with my solicitor to get my affairs in order.’
Reluctantly, Caitlin let him leave. He’d already agreed to cover for her; she didn’t want to do anything that might make him change his mind.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Michelle
As soon as Michelle was in the car she called Nick. He’d told her he was going over to talk to Caitlin; he could still be there now. Who knew what kind of danger he was putting himself in? The phone rang out, clicked to voicemail. ‘Nick, it’s me. I’ve just spoken to Lydia Davis. She told me about Daniel’s death. It didn’t happen how Caitlin said … look, call me as soon as you get this.’
Caitlin’s car was in the driveway when she pulled up, but there was no sign of Nick’s. Apart from a light that shone from the back room, the house was in darkness. She took out her phone and texted Nick.
At Caitlin’s now. Where are you?
She rang the bell and waited, her whole body shaking with nervous adrenalin. Maybe she should have waited, talked to Nick alone first, but she was here now, and just because Nick’s car wasn’t … Suddenly there was the sound of a door opening somewhere inside, then tentative footsteps in the hall, followed by silence. She pictured Caitlin viewing her through the spyhole.
There was a cough inside, a rattle, and the door opened. ‘Michelle, come in.’ Caitlin’s
smile was tight as she stood back and allowed Michelle to pass into the harsh light of the dining room. Michelle looked around. It seemed as though Caitlin had been preparing dinner. A steak lay with the fat half-trimmed on a cutting board, next to a bowl of salad.
‘He told you then?’ Caitlin said.
Michelle’s mind whirled, told her what? She decided to go along with it and nodded.
‘And you’re here to talk me out of it. I knew you would. I told him. But he said you’d understand. Men. How stupid are they really? I don’t blame you, of course, but he owes me and he’s dying.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘He didn’t tell you that? About the consultant? He’s got six weeks left, Michelle, it’s the only reason he’s doing it …’
Suddenly, it all clicked into place. Caitlin had told Nick she’d done something to David, and he’d agreed to go down for it. But six weeks … when did he find this out? Why hadn’t he told her? Of course, it could all be lies. She couldn’t believe anything Caitlin said now, not from the woman who’d killed her baby brother. And from the looks of it her husband too.
‘You’re willing to let Nick go down for killing your husband?’ Michelle’s voice shook. She kept her distance, afraid of what she might do if Caitlin were to lay a conciliatory hand on her arm.
‘I didn’t ask him to,’ she said. ‘He feels he has to, because of what he did. He left me orphaned, you know; he stabbed my mother to death. I ended up in an orphanage. You have no idea what it was like … Now he wants to pay the price, it’s only fair.’
‘And when will you pay the price, Caitlin, for what you did?’
‘I’ve been paying every day. I loved David, you have no idea, what happened was an accident.’
Trembling, Michelle took a step closer. ‘And what about Daniel?’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Your little brother, Caitlin. What? You don’t remember how you lured him up to the treehouse? How you pushed him off the edge because you couldn’t bear the fact that he was stealing the attention away from you? I talked with Lydia and she told me everything. Nick doesn’t know this yet, but he will, I’m going to tell him everything. If you think I’m going to let him pay for what you’ve done, you …’
Caitlin had turned pale. ‘That crazy old bitch! She’s a drunk, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. My father barred her from the house. He wouldn’t have anything to do with her after what she did.’
‘She knows the truth; she knows what you did … she hasn’t forgotten that. Let’s see if you can convince Nick to take the fall for you when he hears about Daniel. You wouldn’t get away with it anyway, your friend Andy has as good as said you’re guilty.’
Michelle didn’t know where it had come from, but suddenly a knife appeared in Caitlin’s hand and, baffled, she glanced at the steak on the chopping board. Could Caitlin have hidden the knife up her sleeve before she’d answered the door?
‘You think I’m going to let you ruin this for me?’ Caitlin said.
She advanced a few steps and Michelle withdrew. She looked round for something to grab, to throw at her. She saw the violin case and she snatched it.
‘Don’t you touch that. That was David’s.’
‘Well he doesn’t need it now though, thanks to you, does he?’ Michelle hurled the case at Caitlin, but Caitlin side-stepped, and it went crashing across the tiled floor. It didn’t stop her – now she advanced towards Michelle with the knife outstretched.
Michelle looked round again for something else to defend herself with. She moved quickly, putting the table between them. Caitlin leaned forward, swiping at her with the knife, but Michelle was too quick. Still, she knew this wouldn’t end unless she could manage to disarm Caitlin.
The buzzing of the bell provided the distraction she needed. She came out from behind the table and kicked Caitlin hard in the stomach, knocking her backwards. Caitlin knocked over a chair but somehow managed not to lose her balance, and came at Michelle again with the knife. Michelle grabbed another of the kitchen chairs and flung it at her to stop her advancing.
Neither of them were expecting it when the back door was flung open and Nick entered, clearly having heard the commotion from the front door. Michelle saw him take in the knife in Caitlin’s hand. He rushed at her, grabbing her wrist until the knife clattered to the floor. But she was too quick. She bit his arm, and before Michelle had a chance to do anything she bent down to grab the knife in her other hand and sank the blade into Nick’s chest.
Nick crumpled to the ground. Michelle screamed and slammed into Caitlin, knocking the knife from her hand again so that it skittered across the floor.
‘What have you done? Look what you’ve done, you bitch …’
Nick held his hand to his chest; a dark stain had begun to spread across his shirt. He attempted to sit up, leaning on one elbow, but collapsed again onto his back. Michelle dropped to her knees, grabbed the knife from the floor, and held it out in front of her, shielding Nick from Caitlin with her body.
She didn’t know what she might have done if Andy Quinn hadn’t appeared in the doorway at that precise moment. She screamed at him to call for help, heard him say Caitlin’s name, and then saw Caitlin turn and run from the room.
Michelle cradled Nick in her arms and screamed at Andy again to call for an ambulance.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Nick
It is as he imagined when the blade pierces his flesh. The pain is sharp; he feels the warm blood soak his shirt, and his hand becomes sticky with it. Michelle has wrestled the knife from Caitlin’s grip, and before he loses consciousness, he becomes aware of Andy Quinn, who must have arrived at some point during the fracas and is crouching over him.
‘Nick, there’s an ambulance on the way. Hold on.’
‘Caitlin …’ he says.
‘She’s gone, fled. But don’t worry, they’ll catch up with her.’
Michelle is crying. Her hands are bloodied and there are stains on her face.
‘Are you hurt?’ he asks.
She shakes her head, cradling him, as Andy Quinn presses a cloth to the wound on Nick’s chest, trying to stop the blood. ‘Caitlin killed Daniel, she pushed him from a treehouse, that’s what I wanted to tell you. What you did didn’t make her become a bad person, she’d already murdered her baby brother before you did anything. You don’t owe her anything.’
He tries to lift a hand. ‘I’m sorry,’ he tells her.
And then it all goes black.
He’s aware of the voices in the ambulance, of the paramedics attempting to keep him alive. ‘He’s lost a lot of blood,’ one of them says. ‘We’d better radio ahead, he’s going to need an urgent transfusion. Do you know his blood type?’
He hears Michelle tell them he’s O negative. She tells them about his liver, that he’s waiting for a transplant. The paramedics don’t say much in response, or maybe he doesn’t hear them above the roaring of the siren.
He’s bumped onto a stretcher, rushed through the emergency unit. They’re talking about a blood transfusion again. He hears Michelle telling him to hold on. She doesn’t say that he’s going to be okay; she’d never tell a lie like that. He wonders if Caitlin has told her that he’s dying and wishes that he’d told her himself.
‘I’m sorry, you’ll have to wait here,’ the paramedics tell her, and he wants to tell them no, that he needs to talk to her, to tell her how sorry he is, but all that comes out is a gasp.
After that the doctors inject him and it becomes a psychedelic nightmare. He drifts between this life and the last one. He hears Caitie’s voice, but she’s a child. And he still loves her. He dreams of Daniel, two years old, traipsing round his father’s muddy garden in wellington boots. He dreams of the car crashing from the pier, and he feels his lungs fill with water. Then he realizes that it’s in this life and not the other that he’s drowning. There’s a loud noise, panicked voices. ‘Flatline,’ someone says. And then he’s at th
e ceiling.
It’s the strangest sensation looking down on the room. He sees himself on the operating table surrounded by surgeons. What seems to be the head surgeon has removed his mask. Suddenly, there’s a woman with a defibrillator about to shock his heart. He wants to tell her that he’s okay, that he’s alive, but he can’t communicate with her. Oddly, rather than panicked, he feels calm.
As they shock the body on the table, he leaves the room. Outside, in the waiting area, Michelle sits with Andy Quinn. She’s been crying, and he wants to comfort her.
‘I’m okay.’
He doesn’t know if he’s said the words aloud, but Michelle looks up, looks right at him. And for a moment he thinks she sees him, not like the surgeons whose attention is taken up by the body on the table – too preoccupied to hear Nick tell them he was fine. But then Michelle turns away again. Andy puts his arm around her, comforting her. He’s glad that there’s someone to help her, to tell her it’ll be okay.
He doesn’t know how it is that he leaves that room, but he finds himself drifting towards a light. He travels through layers, dimensions, aware of a sound that is music and not music. The pain has subsided, and he feels weightless. Time has ceased to have meaning. He drifts onwards, upwards through the vortex, and his memory is cleared once more.
EPILOGUE
Two years later …
‘What am I doing boy?’ Michelle asked Rowdy as the doorbell went and she rose to let Andy in.
‘Are you ready?’ Andy asked.
‘As I’ll ever be, I guess.’ She took one last glance in the mirror in the hall before following him out to the van.
She’d never been inside a prison before; she had no idea what to expect except for what she’d seen in the movies. She could have asked Andy, but she didn’t really want to know.
‘She wants to see you, you know,’ he said. ‘I think she really has changed.’
Michelle didn’t answer. She thought about Nick and about what he’d want; about how all he’d wished to do was to atone for his past sins. She wondered sometimes if Caitlin’s killing him had wiped the slate clean.
When Your Eyes Close Page 25