The Scorched Earth

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The Scorched Earth Page 5

by Rachael Blok


  ‘How is she?’

  They move outside to the hospital corridor and stand beneath the strip light that is never turned off.

  ‘She’s holding her own. They can’t find anything seriously wrong with her, but Jane, she hasn’t woken up. Not since the accident. They—’

  ‘Oh, Maarten!’ Jane falls forward and he puts his arms around her.

  ‘I’ll take you to her.’

  *

  Visiting hours don’t count in this room. They watch her, and Jane holds his hand. Her grip is tight, her face pale.

  ‘They’re hopeful, Jane. There’s nothing they can find. They said sometimes the body just goes to sleep for a while to deal with the shock. We’re still not at the first twenty-four hours.’

  ‘Maarten, what can I do? How do I help?’

  The relief at these words pulls his shoulders down and allows the tightness at the very top of his head to release itself ever so slightly.

  ‘If you could take the girls home. Sanne has a broken arm, but she’s fine to go home. Nic has a cut on her head, but they’ve watched her and it’s been looked at. She’s just got Steri-Strip on there so it needs to stay dry for the week. I’ve kept them here because I can’t leave Liv, I felt we all needed to be here. But really, they need their own beds. They need some real food. I need to stay here, with Liv. She can’t be alone. She—’

  He stops. He can feel his voice cracking and there’s no point because Jane knows what he wants to say. Her hand is still in his and she squeezes it.

  ‘Of course. When they wake. And you’ll let me know – the moment you hear. You’ll call me the very moment you hear anything at all. I’ve phoned Pete. They can’t get flights so I said I’d call tomorrow. When she wakes, we’ll know more. But you let me know. The moment you hear. Anything.’

  ‘Of course. Of course I will.’

  Liv’s dark blonde curls are slicked back on her head. Her hair looks peat brown. Her hairline is framed in tiny scabs of dried blood from scratches that are still fresh and bruises that mottle her brow. The thick dressing that covers her hair shrinks her face.

  The hot night falls thickly. The windows are open in the room but no air comes through. He stagnates.

  She will wake up.

  Night’s blackness sits with him.

  11

  Thursday 14th June

  ANA

  ‘Ms Seabrook?’

  Ana is almost at the car when she hears her name. She is early for the commute and jolts with surprise at someone else being up at this hour.

  ‘I wanted to catch you. I know you work in London so I thought the earlier the better. I’m DI Verma. I’m working on the discovery found yesterday in the Palladian church, the temple. I’m sure you heard about it.’

  Ana nods. She places her hand on her car to steady herself. It’s already hot to the touch. Whether it’s the early heat or the presence of the police officer, she feels light-headed.

  ‘I’m not here for an official interview; I’m in the area to speak to witnesses about the discovery.’ The DI smiles at her. She lifts her sunglasses to the top of her head and takes a step forward, handing Ana her card. ‘We have no idea of the identity of the body, but I’m aware that your brother-in-law’s body was never recovered, and with all the press surrounding the case, there’s already been some mention of him. I just wanted to check in with you. If you’re bothered by the press, or if anything unusual does raise its head, then please give me a call.’ She smiles, stepping back and glancing up the road. ‘This way to the newsagent?’ she asks.

  She’s giving Ana a chance to speak.

  Ana nods and, finding her voice, manages, ‘Yes, just up on your right. There hasn’t been anything yet, but thanks for coming by. I did wonder, when I saw the news. I think until Leo’s body is found, I’ll always wonder when…’ She stops, unsure how to finish. She thinks of the photo hidden beneath her pillow. The secret she has kept from Ben. She should tell the police, she knows that. But the DI is already smiling and waving a goodbye.

  12

  Thursday 14th June

  MAARTEN

  ‘Go ahead, Sunny, what’s the latest?’ Maarten stands in the corridor, watching Liv through the glass. He kissed the girls goodbye an hour ago. His breakfast is untouched on the side. He hasn’t slept. He can’t take his eyes off Liv, can’t leave her. But work is a distraction. He can check in with his team for five minutes; make sure it’s all running smoothly.

  ‘Well, bit of a turn-up really, sir. Taj pushed the soil testing to the top of the priorities and the soil site report came back. There was only a very small amount of soil so it’s been hard, and also fragments of plastic sheeting. We’ve got a possible match. It’s not infallible, but it’s a great start. There’s a lot of technical detail in the report – marine alluvium and chalk in the topsoil, loads of analysis in there. I’ll send you the report, but cutting to the chase, it’s looking like the North Norfolk coast. However, when we also ran a list of cases within the last ten years for any suspicious deaths missing a body, and cross-referenced those with a list of missing people from the St Albans area, one stood out – a male from St Albans who was killed up near Blakeney but his body was never recovered. It’s not an exact science, but we need something to work with. His brother is currently serving time for his murder. And even more interesting, the partner of the brother who’s in jail lives in Ayot, only five minutes from the Palladian church.’

  ‘That’s a result. Thank Taj for me, will you. He must have pushed the team hard to get the analysis so quickly.’ Maarten glances through the glass. Liv looks asleep. Were it not for the machines and the hospital bed, he would find the picture of her resting comforting.

  ‘Have you contacted Norfolk?’ he asks.

  ‘Yes. I called the officer who was involved with the original investigation two years ago, a DI Harper Carroll. She looked into Leo Fenton’s murder. She’s agreed to come down to hand over the file details. It’s a bit of a pre-empt, as the identity isn’t anywhere close to being confirmed. It could be anyone at the moment – we’re just trying to cross lines and find a catch, as the post-mortem will take a while. She’s on her way now.’

  ‘Well done, Sunny. This is a great start. Whatever you do, don’t speak to press. We’ll be crucified if it turns out to be a dead end.’

  ‘Yeah, and there’s another thing. Adrika’s… a bit upset. Took herself out to follow up on some CCTV after the meeting. Something I should be doing. She started early, visiting the female who lives in Ayot. She was here this morning but I haven’t seen her since. Bloody good job we’ve got Taj here. You’re best off out of it, I’m telling you.’

  There’s a pause. Sunny speaks again, and Maarten can hear the change of tone. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean… How is she?’

  ‘She’s holding her own.’ Liv lies, motionless since yesterday. But all vitals are strong. ‘They’re hoping she’ll wake today. There’s nothing else, really. Look, Sunny, I’m assuming you’re doing witness interviews today, and when Adrika gets back from checking the CCTV, if she thinks there’s anything this woman who lives in Ayot said that’s of interest, make sure you bring her in for a statement. Find out if she’s heard anything. If she lives in Ayot and she’s involved with the brother who’s convicted of murder, then she’s one of the first people we need to speak to and I’m sure Adrika made a good start this morning, but probe. Keep an open mind – she could easily be involved if it’s the same case. And when checking CCTV, I’m sure you’ve already got going on it, but there must be a vehicle involved to carry the body and equipment, there must be some trace of it at that time of night. This white van – can you make sure you check it through? And witness statements.’

  ‘Will do, sir. Carroll’s bringing the original file. Adrika started the board after the morning meeting. We’re working through it all. And we’re all rooting for you. Everyone sends their best. Don’t worry about us, we’ve got this. With so many DIs around, it can’t go too badly wrong.’ M
aarten can hear the smile back in Sunny’s voice.

  He leans his head up against the glass and gazes at Liv. The police are in later to speak to him about the road accident. He thinks of someone leaving her for dead and his fists clench. If anything happens to Liv, he knows he wouldn’t rest. Couldn’t rest.

  13

  Thursday 14th June

  ANA

  ‘Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve covered for you again. If The Leith asks, you were at the dentist this morning. Some emergency. Talk with a lisp.’ Fran puts a coffee on Ana’s desk as she mutters quickly, ‘He’s in a stonker of a mood. Makes his eyes flash. He hasn’t actually shouted, just brooded. Intensively. If you want to swap places, just say the word.’

  Ana looks up quickly, distracted. She’s exhausted. By the time she’d fallen asleep last night she had been plagued with dreams of footsteps, a cap, bodies buried deep. She can hear her name being called from across the room. ‘Thanks,’ she says quietly. ‘I owe you. Any word from Jack812?’

  Fran crosses her eyes, which Ana assumes means a love-struck pose but also makes her look drunk. She grins and grabs her files. The chaos at home feels a world away. She’d caught up on the train on the way in, has a handle on the client.

  Leith calls her, talks as he walks. ‘Ana. There’s a car downstairs. We’re visiting the trial today. The offer has been made and it looks promising. We’re just going along to observe the trial in action. The only real question is…’

  In the car, Ana scribbles as he talks. She doesn’t know Leith well. He sometimes asks about sailing, about when she is going out, demonstrates a passing interest. Not that she does it any more.

  There is something familiar about him, that quality that some people possess. His hair is cropped close and is bright blond; he’s tall, and he doesn’t look at her as he speaks, but checks his phone.

  Until the last minute, when he turns and catches her gaze intently. ‘You were at the dentist today?’ He hesitates over the word, implying he understands it might not be the dentist, that something else is going on.

  She almost laughs, imagines telling him she’d been awake half the night because a body has been found. That she’d missed her train by minutes because of a police visit. Thinks of telling him someone knows her secrets, that she’s poised on a knife edge, because if it is Leo, then someone is back for more. And she’s terrified.

  ‘Sorry. Last-minute thing.’

  ‘No problem. Next time, if you’ll be late, just try to call me first. You’ve got my number. We arranged this meeting last minute too and it would have been useful to know. If there’s anything going on, you can tell me.’

  She nods and opens her mouth to reply but he’s already turned back to his phone, and the car pulls out of north London, heading up the M1, racing white vans that sit in the central lane, tourist buses making their way out of the city.

  *

  They pull up at a building that looks modern and sleek. It has spotlights. Like a prison, Ana thinks. Like an expensive white prison.

  ‘Hello!’ A man walks towards them, hand outstretched, and Ana is sure she recognises him but she has no idea from where.

  ‘Leith Kirwan, and this is Ana Seabrook.’ Leith shakes his hand, and when Ana does so she looks at him to see if there’s any spark of recognition, but nothing.

  ‘I’m Jack Thurbridge. Come this way and I’ll show you round the trial set-up. We’re just about to start, so it will be interesting for you to see what goes on. Or not, depending!’ He laughs and then moves swiftly into the building, as modern and bright as the exterior.

  Everything smells clinical. Clean.

  He gestures to a large room with beds and chairs, which has a huge window running along the centre, looking into the corridor. A group of people sit chatting, and then another large window to the right looks into what seems like a sleek kitchen. None of it feels particularly medical.

  ‘So this is where we run the trials and monitor the results. We always have an emergency medical team on standby. Trials can take a while. There are four main phases to any medical drugs trial. We’re in phase two at the moment. It’s still in its infancy. The first phase tests on only a few healthy people. Phase two is where we test the drug on people we’re hoping it will be able to help. We’re currently conducting tests in six centres, in six countries. The next phase is the big one.’

  ‘Where do you recruit the volunteers?’ Ana asks.

  ‘Well, in this instance, we’ve advertised. It’s all approved by an ethics committee. As Neprexine is a weight-loss stimulant, it’s been easy to recruit.’

  ‘And you’ve had good results so far?’ Leith asks.

  Jack nods. ‘Yes, excellent. We’re aiming to tap in to the cosmetic market after we’ve received approval to market the drug on medical grounds. Could be huge. It’s been very encouraging. I haven’t been told why you’re here, but I can guess.’

  Neither Leith nor Ana speaks. Merging companies frequently involves a staff shake-up and telling the staff isn’t their remit.

  Jack smiles. ‘Don’t worry, I’m a chemist, I’m not into the business side of things.’

  Leith’s phone rings. ‘Sorry, can I take this?’

  ‘Yes, but not here. The reception area? I’ll get some coffee arranged while you’re busy. The trial will start in about fifteen minutes.’

  Ana looks at him. He’s attractive, dark hair, and she watches him turn and call to another member of staff. It’s the profile that jolts her memory. And she blurts out, before she can stop herself—.

  ‘Jack812.’

  He spins to look back at her. ‘Sorry?’

  Ana can feel her whole face heat up. The burn runs all the way to her toes. ‘I’m sorry. I thought I recognised you… I…’

  ‘Oh, Jack812! That’s what you said!’ He laughs again, eyes crinkling at the corner. He runs his hand through his hair. ‘Bloody hell, that’s embarrassing. We haven’t dated, have we?’

  ‘No! No… I mean. Not that… I’m not on the site, my friend…’

  He places his hand on her arm and smiles. ‘Seriously, don’t explain. It’s a murky place, the world of Internet dating. If I’ve been rejected by one of your friends then don’t tell me! I’m quite new to it all.’

  Her toes are still curling in embarrassment when she hears Leith return. She’s aware that she’s still bright red, still stammering, and Jack’s hand is still on her arm. She sees Leith catch it all and raise his eyebrows in surprise, stopping for a second before saying, ‘Ana? Everything OK?’

  ‘Yes,’ she says, mortified. ‘Yes, I was just wondering where the loo was.’

  ‘Down there on your left. Meet us back in the test room,’ Jack says, smiling, recovering quickly. ‘Biscuits and coffee waiting for you there.’

  Furiously, she pads powder over her face, her reflection still pink and patchy. At least she hadn’t mentioned Fran. She can say she just noticed his face when she was scrolling through, but she doesn’t think he will ask. He had found it funny, wasn’t too embarrassed. She is so on edge at the moment. She checks her phone; a text from Mum:

  Police have called. They want to come and see you 5pm. I’ve said you’ll go to the station – you won’t want them in the pub? Can you make it? Maisie getting in 3pm St Pancras xx

  Five o’clock would be fine. She has told Leith she has a follow-up at the dentist at 3 p.m., so she is already due to leave early. She needs to keep the two worlds separate.

  If they’re asking for her to go in, then maybe they’ve found something.

  If it is Leo, finally, then there might be some kind of peace.

  The steel of the sink is cold and she holds it, closing her eyes, balancing on the shifting ground.

  Reflection arranged: professional, organised – she leans her head against the cool of the mirror before heading back out.

  Has Ben heard? There’s been no word from him.

  Grief for someone alive is the hardest part. Sometimes it grips her
when she’s least expecting it. It lands now like a kick in the stomach. Her hands tremble.

  Often, she wants to rail and cry. She has railed, has cried. It takes her nowhere.

  But he must have heard by now. He must call.

  Shaking her head out and standing up tall, she smiles into the mirror, confident. A touch of lipstick.

  The volunteers are all overweight, either a little or a lot.

  ‘Hope I get the real thing!’ one of them says, a short man with curly hair. He must be about forty-five years old. ‘I’ve been trying to cut back on the curries, but I think if I could just shift a bit then I’d have the confidence to go for a run, or go to the gym. I just need a bit of help getting going.’ He smiles, rueful.

  Jack hands out small paper cups with water and even smaller paper cups containing medication. ‘Here we are. Now, as you were briefed earlier, you shouldn’t feel any effects. We will monitor your heart rate and blood pressure this morning. Then we will invite you back in at regular intervals as outlined in the contract. Good luck, everybody!’

  ‘Can we do a selfie?’ the man says. ‘A “before” shot of us all?’

  The group laugh, and Jack nods.

  ‘Of course!’ he says. ‘Let me take it.’

  ‘No, I’ll do it,’ Ana says. ‘You need to be in shot. I’ll email it over to you.’

  They bunch up. A group in gowns and Jack at the centre in his white coat, standing next to a slightly uncomfortable Leith.

  ‘Say celery!’ Ana calls.

  Click. And as she presses, she thinks of another photo.

  *

  On the way out, Jack gives her a wink as he shakes her hand. Leith has already begun walking to the car, and Jack leans and whispers, ‘Nice to meet you. Thanks for not bringing it up here. I’d get a right ribbing if they knew I was turning to the Internet.’

 

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