2004 - The Reunion

by Sue Walker

  She paused again, flexing her shoulders to keep upright. “Carrie hit the girl to the ground. Her dress got torn. It was…it was obvious that she was older than we thought. Everything changed then. I looked at Danny. I knew what we were both thinking. So did Carrie. For fuck’s sake. That Unit kept our sexual impulses and orientations so under wraps, no wonder we snapped. Sex is power, for fuck’s sake. All about power. And anger. And we were angry. All of us. Hacked off to fucking death with the fucking Unit.

  “Anyway, we had stuff like rope and a knife with us in our backpacks. The knife was Carrie’s. Dunno where she got it. We tied them both up. Started stuffing the whisky bottles in their mouths. Forced the stuff down them. And down ourselves. More and more. The boy threw up and then we made him drink again. And then we were ready. We made the little…the little boy watch. We stripped the girl. Danny had her first and we all egged him on. God! Danny told me that he could still hear it in his dreams sometimes. The whooping sound we made…just like we were all at a football match or something. He…Danny…he raped her. Buggered her. He was an animal. Changed. But he made us all change. I…I used the knife handle on her. Inside. Everyone was laughing but…the…the boy was yelling for us to stop. Danny punched him in the face. And…and then Carrie…Carrie made Simon have a go. Shouted at him to do it. He tried but…but he couldn’t get it up. She laughed at him. Laughed and laughed and laughed. Hah! Hah! Hah!”

  Innes looked pleadingly at Simon not to do anything as Alex’s hysteria rang throughout the room. She was mentally disintegrating in front of their eyes. The jangling of her chains joined in the mad cackling as she continued her sickening commentary.

  “And then it was Carrie’s turn to do something. Carrie, being as straight as they come, wouldn’t do sex. So she took her knife and began making lots of little cuts on the girl’s body. There was a lot of blood. The girl had given up screaming and crying now. We didn’t even bother gagging her. No one could hear. We were in the middle of nowhere. By now, she just lay there. Her eyes…they just stared straight up. Unseeing. It was like she was dead. But she wasn’t.

  “And things changed again. It was like waking up. Suddenly we looked at what we’d done. I can’t remember who wanted to throw her in the loch. Carrie, I think. The boy was hysterical again when he saw what we were going to do. Carrie made Simon lift the girl to the water’s edge. She was…she didn’t move, didn’t struggle, but she was awake. She’d told us she couldn’t swim. The boy told us she couldn’t. But she must’ve known what was coming. Carrie made us all move to the loch-side and we all had to hold the girl and we tossed her in like it was a game. “One, two, three!” Carrie shouted and she laughed. We all laughed. We watched as the body hit the water. The rope had come undone somehow but it didn’t matter. The girl landed face down in the water, stayed there for a while and then sank. And then I…I saw Carrie turn away, smiling. The boy was still screaming. She picked up a rock and smashed him on the head. He was semi-conscious as the noose was made, fitted round his neck, and flung across the tree branch.”

  Simon cast a final dismissive look at Alex, whose mouth was bleeding more heavily than before, and dien Innes became aware of her own nails cutting deeply into her hand. She looked at her palm. Inadvertently, she’d opened up the wineglass scar. An abiding reminder of how this had all started. But, strangely, she felt nothing. Didn’t even feel connected to her body. It was like she was looking down on herself. On them all. Head bent, speaking more to herself than anyone in the now silent room. “And I missed all this. All because of some bloody cold that wasn’t so bad after all. But…but surely if I’d been there I could’ve stopped it. Me and Abby together? But…but afterwards? How could I not have known? How? In God’s name, how?”

  FIFTY-ONE

  Simon had moved forward into the light now and was looking directly at her. He was feeling tired. And ill. Ready to throw up. But time was running out. He looked at his watch before answering. “Yes, well. That’s fate, isn’t it? A cold kept you away from that day’s fateful events. And could you have changed anything? Impossible to answer. I don’t hold you responsible. And you ask how you didn’t know? Because you weren’t looking. Why would you? You were not part of the individual and collective psychosis, no, evil, evil that inhabited this place all those years ago. Neither was Abby. She saw us all shortly after our abominations, and she seemed largely oblivious, merely, and understandably anxious to get back to the warmth and safety of the camp.

  “And as for you, tonight? Now you know the truth. All of it. I’m sorry if it hurts you, alters your memories of this place. I don’t know what your recollection of here is, but I doubt if it can compete with the nightmares that have haunted me and the others, deservedly so.”

  She was barely aware of what she was doing, but the mixture of self-disgust, guilt, anger, had finished her. Simon was holding her tightly as she broke down, the sobs shaking her entire frame. And then he walked her over to the bed, sat her down and backed away again, hands outstretched in a gesture of appeasement.

  “I’m afraid there’s more. As you know, Danny told Abby about what happened in Argyll…well, at least some of what happened, when they were both on the ferry from Stornoway. Up on deck they had a fight. She pushed him, and Danny fell overboard. Ask her. Isabella told every detail when she ran to her for help.”

  Innes looked to Alex, who nodded. “It’s true.”

  Innes shook her head at him. “And what about you? You fell…from your garden?”

  He offered her a bitter, triumphant smile. “I called Alex. I wanted to have it out. Later, I went into the garden to get some air. I was upset…I’d been reading some of my journal…about when Abby died. I know now what happened to me. Alex must have arrived earlier than we’d arranged. Maybe even seen me go down the garden. Or perhaps she went into the house looking for me, saw I wasn’t there and then went outside. The night was stormy, and I couldn’t hear anything but the sea and the wind. She’s a strong woman. I was leaning over the sea-wall at the end of the garden. Next thing I knew she had grabbed my ankles and toppled me on to the rocks below. But I managed to land on the sand. I was shaken but okay. I knew from that point onwards that we were into the end game. I laid low to make her think she was safe and that I was out of the way. By the time I’d climbed back up to the house, she was long gone, but she’d been in my house and found my journal with my innermost thoughts about all this. But I couldn’t worry about that then. I took clothes and other things that I needed and went into hiding for a very short time in an out-of-the-way hotel far north, just outside Aberdeen. I made my plans. And here we are.”

  He felt on the verge of exhaustion. He checked his watch. Not much time left. He looked at Innes. She’d just about had it. But he wanted her to know one final thing. “I’m sorry for this but there is one thing else. Lydia.”

  Innes frowned. “She killed her entire family?”

  He returned her shake of the head with his own. “No, I have my suspicions.” Innes watched his gaze turn to Alex. “I think you should ask her about that.”

  He flung an acid glance at Alex.

  Innes stood up again, spinning round, looking first at Alex, then back at him. “Alex? Tell me? Did you?”

  But Alex was screaming now. All control gone. “She was an interfering little bitch!” Innes moved closer as Alex let out a sharp staccato laugh and wiped more blood from her mouth with the back of her chained hand. “Do you think for one fucking minute that I was going to allow her to ruin my life? Sneaky cunt! Oh, yes, I went to see her. She tried it on. Her old tricks. Putting the pressure on. Trying to freak me out. Well, I sorted her, one way or another. Torched her life away!”

  Innes could feel her chest tighten, but she was determined to rasp out the words. “No, Alex. Not that. You didn’t do that. The whole family!”

  Then she felt herself uncontrollably flinging her entire weight at Alex, punches smashing into the already bloodied face, releasing what she knew were twenty-six years of
pent-up fear and anger at the Alex of old. The intimidating, threatening and at times downright terrifying Alex of old. Only now, in her own act of involuntary but irresistible violence, was Innes able to make sense of the Alex she remembered from the Unit. The toxic atmospheres she had carried with her from room to room, situation to situation. The vicious threats and sneers. But most of all, and shamingly so, Innes knew she was lashing out through anger at herself. At her asinine inability to have read anything of the truth in the Unit. The punches she was raining down on Alex’s face might well have been directed at her own wretched, useless self. And suddenly Innes stopped, staggering back a few steps, head bent forwards, staring at her bloody fists. The wineglass scar had reopened fully now, trickling its red trail to meet the mess punched from Alex’s face.

  Next, she was aware of Simon standing behind her; she felt first his grip on her arm, and then a stronger embrace. “That’s enough. It’s time now.” She stepped away to look at him, tears sliding down his cheeks. He stood in the middle of the floor, hands limply by his side now, the rangy frame sagging. “I’m sorry.”

  His hand was on Innes’s arm again as he steered her to the door. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Alex pulling futilely at her bonds.

  “No! No, don’t! Innes! Don’t leave me! Come back. Please!”

  Innes felt his warm breath on her cheek as he bundled her out of the room. “Don’t let me have to use force again. Go on. There’s nothing to worry about. It’s going to be okay.”

  “No, Innes, no!”

  But he’d closed the door and was ushering her downstairs. “Keep going please.”

  She noticed again the matrix of scaffolding as he hurried her down the stairs. Once on the ground floor, she stopped at the entrance to the huge psychodrama room. She glanced at him and he gave her a single, knowing nod. It was too dark to see much, but she felt its space. Heard its echoes. Its memories. Its psychodramas. The Christmas party. The raffle. It all made sense now. A ‘joke’. A macabre joke at Alex’s expense.

  “Please. Keep moving.”

  He was at her heels, marching her along the final corridor, past the old study room, past the old Nurses’ Office. For some reason she thought he was taking her to the kitchen. Why, she didn’t know. Then, with a speed that took her by surprise, he grabbed her arms and pushed her through the main door into the cool, refreshing air of outdoors. The door slammed tight after them.

  Standing outside in the orange glow of distant street lamps, she looked at his face. It was haggard, exhausted. “What? Why are we out here again?”

  In answer, he slipped a white envelope from his inside pocket. “Abby sent me something before she died. I’m so glad I decided to see her…I…I wasn’t going to…but look, she sent me this. It’s for you. She’d apparently hung on to it, wanting to send it and then not. Here. Take it. Read it later. Take this too. It’s the same as the package that I’ve sent to my colleague, Dr Sheena Logan. I made a spare to leave here. Just in case. But I know you’ll know what to do with it. And now please, get away from this building immediately. You shouldn’t come back. Forget about this place. For ever. I’m going to.”

  He opened the door and let the Unit swallow him up again. The door slammed behind him and the lock scraped into place before she had a chance to question him any further. She looked down at the smaller envelope. It was blank and sealed. Stuffing it and the package into the front of her jacket, she moved round the side of the house and over the stone wall, looking for a way back in. Only now, out in the freshening air of the night, did she start to hear what had, in essence, been Simon’s subtext, his secondary message. He was going to do something irrevocable. She had to get back in. Talk to him. Reason with him. Whatever he had planned for Alex, for himself, she needed to get him to think again.

  She staggered up the incline of grass, that led to the psychotherapy room bay windows. Entry was impossible: all the windows along that side of the house were either barred or shuttered. She changed tack and sprinted back from where she’d come, passing the door she’d just exited, and made it to the adjoining single-storey annexe. Again, all seemed impenetrable. She jogged round the back of the building. There was a frosted window. A toilet. It didn’t seem barred and was, maybe, big enough for her to get through. She foraged about at the edge of the garden. There were a couple of stones. One looked as if it might do it. She pulled her sleeve about her hand and then swung the stone. The window gave a crack but didn’t shatter. Again. And one more time. If he heard, too bad. There was an actual hole in the glass now, and she kicked at it with her foot. It was the best she could do in die time. Carefully she eased herself dirough, catching her jacket and ripping it. Otherwise, she was okay. She jumped down into the toilet cubicle and then made her way through the wash area and found herself in the hallway of the annexe. The main Unit building was to her right. She could see the adjoining glass doors. What if they were locked? She’d just have to break them. But luck was with her. They pushed open. Then she found herself outside die old Nurses’ Office. There was still no sound of the others. She started moving up the stairs, trying to look up through die stairwell to the top floor. But the scaffolding…what was it…yes, painters’ scaffolding. Reaching all the way up to the ceiling. She quickened her pace. Floor one. Jog, jog, jog. Floor two, jog, jog, jog. And then she heard it. A steady creaking. As she reached the top landing, she saw diem, clearly in view, the lamplight from the bedroom flooding out to where they hung. Simon had, of course, gone last, his long body still penduluming, and the faintest of twitching still evident in the limbs. The face was in shadow, and she made no attempt to gauge its expression. Alex was almost still. Again, Innes shied away from looking at the face. Both nooses—made from climbing rope, she noticed—made a steady creaking noise as they stretched themselves against the scaffold poles. She sighed, no longer confused, no longer afraid. The final executions had been carried out.

  FIFTY-TWO

  She’d arranged to meet Sarah Melville at the Unit at noon. Noon, November 8th. A deliberate choice, which both understood. The snow had made the garden beautiful and quiet.

  “Will you walk with me to the swing?”

  Sarah nodded. They made the two-minute journey in silence, the scrunching of their boots the only sound. Innes wiped the swing’s seat clear and sat down, rocking gently as she watched an anxious and sad-looking Sarah. “You okay?”

  Sarah was trying a smile at her. “Yeah, fine. Just a bit tired. But you look well. That’s quite a tan for our winter.”

  Innes smiled back. “Yes, it is. I’ve been away for a few months. Sun and peace. I feel better for it.” She nodded up the hill towards the old house. “What’s the latest then, about that?”

  She watched as Sarah made a cursory clean of a nearby bench with her mittened hand and sat down to face her. “The hospital are in a bit of a pickle. Simon left the Unit building, which he’d bought outright, and a substantial amount of money to re-open the place as an adolescent unit. He wanted it to be named the Hamilton Memorial Unit. They’re conferring with lawyers at the moment about what to do. But they’re stuck. They’d love to open the place up but think of the PR disaster if, when, it all comes out. The police are looking into things, as you well know. That’s never-ending as far as I can see. It’s a bloody mess.”

  Innes stopped her rocking. “And?”

  “And, he even suggested that he wanted me, me to have a senior role in the new unit. Unbelievable.”

  Innes smiled at her. “Is it? Seems to me he was just trying to make amends all round, as if that were possible. Though I reckon you’d be rather good at running a new unit.”

  Sarah was shaking her head. “No. No, never. I don’t believe in those sort of therapeutic communities any more. They don’t work. They’re just too dangerous.”

  “Oh, come on. Our intake was different. That’s the, whole point.”

  But Sarah was giving her another emphatic shake of the head. “I’m sorry. I’m just not convinced. Look,
Innes, I’ve not got much time. I just wanted to see you and say hello. I’ve got to be getting on. It’s been good to see you on and off these past months. I’ll let you know how things pan out up here. I’ve got your contact details. I promise, I’ll let you know.”

  Innes could sense her urgency to be away. Sarah, the few times they’d met since it happened, had always seemed uncomfortable, uneasy, and she couldn’t pin down why. Couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe Sarah felt somehow responsible, though she wasn’t. How could she be?

  “Okay, you’d better go. Oh, and I’ll get in touch with you. I’m leaving London. I’m coming back to live in Scotland. Somewhere by the sea. Don’t know about work, but I’ll sort something out. I can’t just go back to my other life. It’s gone. Anyway, speak to you in a while. Goodbye, Sarah, and take care.”

  Sarah’s sobs filled the car. She’d scurried up the garden as fast as she could, terrified that Innes would notice the tears starting. That was the final nail: Innes, who had so obviously flourished these past months from having faced up tp her demons from the Unit past. She looked well, happy even, and serene. She was going to have a new life. And what of her own? Since the hangings and the whole appalling story coming to light, she hadn’t had one night’s natural sleep.

  She had confided in no one. Told the police lies. And this constant toing and froing of questions in her mind. Which had been the worse transgression? Having an affair with Alex? Or disbelieving and ignoring her story about the two children on the camping holiday? And why had she ignored it? Simple. She’d been more concerned about Alex’s levels of distress and the worry about their relationship being exposed than listening, really listening, to what was behind Alex’s story of a bit of sadism, frightening a couple of kids with a knife. And that was all that was admitted to, though it was surely bad enough. She knew she should have told the other staff about the story, whether she thought it true or not. She should have written it up in the daily report. She should have offered it up at the next case conference. Then they all could have looked into it more. But no, she chose to ignore it. And she knew the reason why. To save her own skin, to prevent any uncomfortable issues about she and Alex coming out. That last period with Alex in the Unit had been the worst. She’d taken weeks of sick leave to avoid her. Had herself been buried in depression and withdrawal. And then it was time for Alex to be discharged. The relief!