by Agatha Frost
“You could have told me you were all coming out here,” she hissed, wrapping her arms around herself as she ducked away from the cobwebs. “You’re always leaving me out.”
“You were quite happy eavesdropping in there,” Claire said.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping.” Janet pursed her lips. “I was merely comforting the woman while also observing her. And if I was eavesdropping, there was nothing to listen in on. Harry is as good at interviewing as Claire is at physical exercise!”
“Even in times of crisis, you really have to shoehorn it in there, don’t you, Mother?”
“I’m only saying.” She wafted a hand at Claire. “My point being, he’s asking that girl all sorts of questions and getting nothing out of her.”
“He keeps harassing Claire for info,” said Sally.
“I wouldn’t call it harassing,” Claire said, tilting her head from side to side. “If I’m being honest, he seems a bit desperate.”
“I’d wager he is,” Alan agreed. “I never told you this, but I’ve heard on the grapevine that Ramsbottom’s job isn’t as secure as it should be, considering how little time he’s had to prove himself as a capable DI.”
“The man wouldn’t be able to prove himself if he had decades in which to do it!” Janet announced. “And I don’t think he has decades left. He’s in there shovelling down my best biscuits like it’s a competition.”
“Are they going to fire him, Dad?”
“I’m not sure, little one.” He offered a melancholy smile. “Perhaps. It takes a lot out of you, being the DI; I should know. When they announced he would replace me, not many people thought he was up to the job. But he was naturally positioned for promotion, and it’s always easier to hire within a team.”
“Would you ever go back?” Sally asked.
Alan chuckled, but he shook his head. Claire glanced up to the slight shadow on the top of his head from the scar. Removing the tumour had given her father a second chance at life, but it had forced him into early retirement. Even if he didn’t have a lame foot, his mind wasn’t what it had been. He was still as brilliant as ever, but his short-term memory and recollection skills left a lot to be desired these days. Despite his headshake, Claire knew he’d give anything to pick up his DI badge again.
“I’ll be in the kitchen if you want to include me in your little whispering club,” Janet said as she turned to leave. “I’ve put one of my frozen emergency lasagnes in the microwave. Wasn’t sure who’d eaten.”
Janet went back up the garden path, leaving the shed door open. Sensing it was probably best to follow, Claire and Alan stood at the same time.
“I wish you’d never mentioned those microwave cookbooks,” he whispered to Claire as he hobbled past with the aid of his house cane. “I knew I should have taken them to the tip instead of hiding them in the attic.”
After taking a final fondant fancy each, Claire and Sally followed Alan up the garden path and into the brightly lit kitchen. Over the hum of the microwave, Claire heard DI Ramsbottom’s booming voice through the cracked-open sitting room door. Janet was organising the coats, her ear pointed towards the gap.
“And in what year did you leave Japan?” Ramsbottom asked loudly.
“Is it relevant?” was Rina’s reply.
Janet peeled back the curtains of the small window next to the door. A moment later, she opened the front door, revealing Em in her loose linen yoga attire, walking up the garden path with her fist outstretched to knock. Her eyes went straight to Claire and a sigh of relief followed.
“When I couldn’t find you at your flat,” she said, slightly out of breath, “I had a feeling you’d be up here.”
“You might as well come in, Em.” Janet shooed her inside and closed the door behind her. “I’ve already got a houseful. Lasagne?”
“Thank you, but I don’t eat meat, Mrs Harris. Remember?”
“Suit yourself.”
Janet gave a roll of her eyes as she walked through to join Alan in the kitchen. As though sensing Em wanted to talk to Claire alone, Sally also excused herself into the kitchen, closing the door behind her. The door immediately cracked back open, no doubt Janet’s handiwork. Em took Claire outside, and they walked into the road in front of the cul-de-sac. Tonight, the night air felt strangely cooler than it had been lately.
“What’s going on with you and Ryan?” she asked bluntly when they were a safe distance from the house. “I popped by to drop off some books I picked up for the kiddies at the charity shop, and he was all in a state. He told me what happened.”
Claire’s cheeks warmed. “What specifically did he tell you?”
“That you almost kissed,” Em said in a low voice, glancing back at the house, “and that you ran off.”
Claire bit into her lip, a smile breaking through. Any last shred of doubt that she’d misread the moment vanished; Ryan had been about to kiss her.
“Amelia interrupted,” Claire replied. “I panicked. He was being odd with me, and then next thing I know we’re laughing and joking and he’s right there in my face talking about my perfume. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Em wrapped Claire in a tight, rocking hug, as though to celebrate. Em had been one of the first to point out there was something between Ryan and Claire. She’d been trying to get Claire to open up to the idea ever since, but apparently, it had taken nothing less than Ryan nearly kissing her for Claire to take her fingers out of her ears.
“I think I know why he might have seemed off with you,” Em said as she pulled back from the hug. “I don’t know where it’s come from, but he seems to think you’re seeing someone.”
“What?”
“That poor man in hospital?” Em said, searching Claire’s face. “Damon’s friend?”
“Taron.” Claire laughed and looked back at the house; she had some idea who had told him. “And no, I’m not seeing him. We shared one kiss years ago when we were drunk, and he’s seeing Rina, who is currently in my parents’ sitting room being interviewed because her ex-boyfriend has just been murdered in the park.”
“That must be the source of all the commotion around Starfall,” Em said through her fingers. “If there’s nothing in this rumour about you and another man, you might want to let Ryan know. He’s convinced he’s missed his chance.”
“He said that?”
“Not in so many words.” Em tapped the side of her nose. “But I know love when I see it. I recommend the two of you sit down, stop dancing around this, and talk like the adults you are. If you’d stayed, he would have come back down to finish what he started.”
“Is that you guessing again?”
“No.” Em patted Claire’s cheek with a soft smile. “He actually said that one. The ship has come into dock, and if you don’t both jump on now, it might just sail on by. Life’s short, Claire. I know matters of the heart are never easy to face, but face them you must.” Em stepped back and spun around on her heels, waving over her head, and said, “Talk to each other. Please.”
Claire lingered in the cul-de-sac, watching Em’s bright colours vanish into the night. She pulled her phone from her pocket and opened Ryan’s contact page, but hesitated over the call button. She needed to do this in person. Tucking her phone away, she went back into the cottage to interrogate her mother.
“You know when you came to my flat and saw Taron there in his underwear?” Claire whispered to Janet as she was reading the ingredients for a chocolate cake from the yellowed microwave cookbook. “Did you then go on and tell Ryan?”
“What?”
“Just answer the question.”
“What do you take me for?” Janet slapped the book shut, her expression pinched. “You told me there was nothing going on, so I took that at face value. Why? Has Ryan said I did? I never took that boy for a liar, but if he—”
“No,” Claire cut in, staring through the window into the dark. “It’s nothing. Forget I mentioned it.”
Claire’s phone rang in her pocket. She pulle
d it out, half-expecting to see Ryan’s name on the screen, but it was Damon. Before answering, she walked through to the hallway and settled on the bottom step of the staircase.
“Taron’s awake,” were Damon’s first words when she picked up. “Hospital said I can visit him. He’s up and talking.”
“Can I come?”
“Why do you think I’m ringing you?” he said, relief clear in his voice. “I need to find Rina, and probably tell Mark and Daniel too, not that they deserve to know. Are you at your flat? I’ll come get you.”
Claire’s stomach twisted as though someone had just sunk a knife through it. In the chaos, she hadn’t thought to call Damon to let him know what had happened to his friend, and neither had anyone else.
“I’m at my parents’,” Claire said as calmly as she could as her mind replayed the image of what she’d seen in the bushes. “Rina’s here too. Damon, are you sitting down? There’s something you should know.”
Chapter Ten
Rather than letting them walk or call a taxi, Janet drove Claire, Sally, and Rina down to the village square. The awkward silence made Janet’s usually slow, cautious driving feel even more like a crawl. Sally took the front seat, leaving Claire in the back with Rina. From the moment Claire had revealed that Taron was finally awake, a heaviness had lifted from Rina. Gone was the wailing woman from the park, replaced by one altogether more silent. Claire sensed a poker face as she observed Rina’s firm stare through the window as the dark countryside whizzed by. As much as it might have eased the tension in the air, Claire held back on revealing that she knew about Taron and Rina’s secret romance.
Once in the village, Sally left them in favour of unpacking her case at the flat. Damon cut across the square, taking Sally’s seat in the front. Sean climbed in the back, forcing Claire to budge down to the seat right next to Rina. When their hips touched, Rina moved over and pushed herself into the door. Both men yanked on their seatbelts, their urgency clear. Not wanting to force Damon to talk in such a raw state, Claire gently squeezed his shoulder from behind. He gave her hand a little pat of appreciation.
“Are you okay, Rina?” Damon asked, turning in his seat as they sped past Starfall Park towards the roundabout that would throw them in the direction of the nearest motorway slip road.
Rina nodded, but remained silent. Damon turned back to the front, staring straight ahead until they pulled up on the far side of the busy hospital’s large carpark. Before they could hop out, Janet reversed in and out of the space a few times without once changing the angle of the car. Claire didn’t comment; she’d failed her own driving test more times than she cared to admit.
Leaving Janet in the car, the four of them headed towards the hospital entrance with a shared quickness. While Claire was looking forward to seeing Taron in a better state than the last time, she didn’t have the same reasons for being there as the other three. She did, however, have many questions, and considering what had just happened in the park, they couldn’t wait.
Once inside, Damon led the way to intensive care and straight to Taron’s room. Rina and Damon rushed inside immediately, whereas Claire and Sean hung back to look through the window. Sean seemed to linger more out of nerves than anything, whereas Claire felt she didn’t have a right to be one of the first in there. She smiled and offered a little wave as Taron squinted in her direction. He mustered a smile in return. With his glasses on his face and the lack of tubes trailing from his mouth, he looked more like the man she remembered, although it was obvious he had gone through a lot.
If there’d been a question about it before, Rina’s affections for Taron were more than obvious now. She rushed right to his side, grabbing his hand and sobbing against his chest, her poker face gone. These cries were wholly different from the ones Claire had heard earlier. Rawer, somehow. When Rina finally pulled back to wipe at her tear-soaked face, Damon went in for a hug. This embrace wasn’t as awkward as the one they’d shared when Taron first arrived at the village.
Taron called Sean in after a few minutes with Rina and Damon, but Claire remained outside. She waited until the conversations were clearly winding down before slipping inside. She waited at the back of the room until Taron acknowledged her.
“I hear you’ve been trying to figure out what happened to me,” he said, his voice scratchy.
“Can’t say I’ve got very far.”
Before Claire could ask the questions she so desperately wanted to, in walked a handsome man in a suit followed by a uniformed police officer. They flashed their badges, clearing the visitors from the room so they could talk to Taron in private. Once outside, Rina wandered down to the vending machine at the end of the hall.
“Did you tell him about Mark?” Claire asked in a whisper after pulling Damon to the side.
“I didn’t know how,” he said, resting his hand against his forehead. “What’s going on? Is it one of them? Is one of my friends doing this?”
“I-I don’t know,” she said, although her gut said differently. “Though if it was one of those two, surely Taron would have reacted.”
“He says he doesn’t remember anything.”
The officers left after less than ten minutes; clearly, they’d been unable to get anything out of him. With Rina sitting next to the vending machine drinking a coffee and Sean and Damon off in search of a bathroom, Claire slipped into the room.
“They’re saying Mark is dead,” Taron said, wincing as he forced himself to sit up a little more.
“It’s true.”
“Stabbed, like me,” he said, resting a hand on his stomach over the thin sheet. “Except they got it right with him.”
“Do you have any idea who could have done this?” she asked, sitting on the chair next to his bed that Rina had so recently vacated. “Damon said you don’t remember anything, but do you mind if I ask some questions? It might loosen something deep in the back?” Taron nodded, so she asked, “Why were you in that alley?”
“I-I don’t know,” he said, staring into the corner of the room. “I went outside to get some fresh air before the tournament. I was nervous and needed a second to breathe. It was so hot in that place. And then it’s a blank. I don’t remember anything from leaving the hall to waking up here.” He sighed. “The doctor said that can happen. It might come back to me, but he said I shouldn’t hold my breath.”
The one person who could have easily put everything to bed didn’t remember, and Claire couldn’t pretend she wasn’t disappointed. When Rina returned to the room, Claire left to give the couple some privacy. If Taron couldn’t help her figure out the truth just yet, she didn’t want to take any more of his energy so soon after waking.
“Prawn cocktail,” Damon said as he threw Claire a packet of crisps from the row of benches in the corridor. “Can you believe what they get away with charging at these vending machines? I could have bought a pack of six for the same price at a shop.”
“Captive market.” Claire popped open the packet and sat next to him. “If I told you there was a secret relationship in your friend group, who would you guess it was?”
“Them two, obviously.” He nodded through the window. “I’ve had my suspicions for a while. Taron always used to make jokes about how he was going to be single forever. When they stopped a while ago, I had a feeling something was up. It was around the time he started university. His entire outlook on life seemed to change in a flash. He went from being depressed as anything to seeming . . . happy?”
“Did you know that apparently Daniel is also in love with Rina?”
“Seriously?” Damon arched a brow. “Where did you hear that?”
“Sean told me.” Claire looked up and down the corridor. “Speaking of which, where is he?”
“He said he had to get something for Taron.” Damon shrugged and popped in another crisp. “Probably got lost again. He’s never had a great sense of direction. I swear, the number of times we’ve lost him in online multiplayers because he wanders off on the map.” He crunched
his crisp before adding, “But Daniel? Never would have guessed that. I always assumed he was in love with Mark, truth be told. He’s always been his little lapdog. He never seemed capable of forming a single opinion without hearing Mark’s first.”
“Would Sean make up something like that?”
“He’s never had much of an imagination.” Damon licked the prawn cocktail dust from his fingers. “I’m not saying it’s not true, but if it is, Daniel’s kept it very well hidden.”
“Maybe he thought Mark would turn on him?”
“That’s possible.”
“What kind of relationship did Mark and Rina have?”
“A weird one,” Damon whispered, glancing through the window. “They could never stay together for more than a few months at a time. Both stubborn know-it-alls. For Rina, I think they were better as friends, but Mark never saw it that way. He’s always been weirdly possessive of her. To me, it always felt like he thought that because he introduced her to the group, she belonged to him.”
“Rina was at the convention, by the way,” Claire said. “She admitted it. With what you’ve just said, it makes more sense why she felt obligated to lie to you. She joined Mark’s tournament team and didn’t want you to know that was why she dropped out. She was his third.”
“Are you kidding?” Damon huffed. “Why can’t she ever just be straight with me? I wouldn’t have been bothered if she’d gone off halfway through the day to join Mark’s team. I never asked her to pick sides; I just wanted to celebrate my birthday with all my friends for the first time ever.” He chewed the inside of his cheek as he forcefully twisted the crisp packet into a knot. “For months, it was all I looked forward to. Nothing ever happens, but the convention was finally something exciting.”
“Of course things happen.”
“Do they?” He rested his head against the wall and looked up at the bright ceiling lights without blinking. “Look at where you’ve got to. You left the factory, you have your own shop, you have loads of friends who live in the village, and your family’s right there. What do I have? I’m a failed journalist who’s been working in the same factory for fifteen years. I just turned thirty-six, and I have nothing to show for my life. No career, no girlfriend . . . just a flat and a crap job. And now my online friend group, the one thing that always felt solid, has collapsed before my eyes. But it turns out, I never really knew them as well as I thought I did. I’m a loser.”