Staverton

by Caidan Trubel

  I reached up and touched his face, and as he kissed my fingers, he said, “I want to kiss you everywhere,”

  My body responded immediately, tingling all over.

  His fingers fumbled with the buttons on my shirt, and his hands slid over the lace of my bra. A small shiver ran the length of my body.

  At the back of my mind, the worry about what the future might hold niggled at me. I closed my eyes and blocked it out, surrendering myself to pleasure.

  Afterwards, I lay on the bed next to Michael, my head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. I stretched lazily. Despite everything, I felt safe and content.

  I looked up at him and grinned, just as his phone rang.

  As he rummaged through his clothes on the floor trying to find his phone, I sat up, covering myself with the sheet and hugged my knees to my chest.

  “Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes,” Michael said.

  He smiled apologetically at me, as he ended the call.

  “I’ll have to go back and see if my mother is okay. Will you be all right?

  “I’ll be fine. You’ll let me know what happens?”

  Michael nodded. “I expect he’ll be released any time now. Knowing my father, he’s probably ready to sue DI Alcott for harassment.”

  He quickly pulled on his jeans and ran a hand through his messed-up hair. “I’ll see you before you leave. What train are you getting tomorrow?”

  “The ten o’clock,” I said. “It’s cheaper after nine.”

  Michael shrugged on his coat then leaned across to kiss me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I forced myself to smile as he left.

  I watched him from the window. He ran across the road, shoulders hunched against the rain. When he rounded the corner and disappeared, I suddenly felt very alone.

  I opened the window wide, to air out the room and get rid of the smell of fish and chips. I stood staring out at the darkness and shivered. I hoped I was wrong. I hoped Lawrence Harrington would be released and things could go back to how they were. I might not have seen Caroline much over the past few years, but I couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing her again. And how could Michael and I have a future when I’d betrayed his family.

  I got ready for bed. It was still early, but I was tired and quickly drifted off.

  Chapter 40

  I was woken by footsteps.

  I sat up in bed and blinked into the darkness. My heart was pounding, and my sweat-drenched t-shirt stuck to my skin. I must have been dreaming again.

  I leaned across the bed and switched on the bedside lamp. I sat still and listened, but heard nothing except my own rasping breath. Perhaps I had dreamt the noise.

  The room was freezing because I’d left the window open earlier. I reluctantly pushed the covers back and crossed the room to shut the window.

  Another noise, closer now.

  I spun around and watched the door with horror as the handle turned.

  “Who is it? Who’s there?”

  “It’s me, Caroline.”

  The tension in my body ebbed away. I unbolted the door and let Caroline in.

  Caroline’s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, and she looked at me with undisguised disappointment.

  “I’m sorry, Caroline. Really. I didn’t mean to hurt any of you.”

  “Despite your best efforts,” Caroline snapped. “Harry Milford says he’ll be released first thing tomorrow.”

  I guessed Harry Milford was Lawrence’s hot shot lawyer. “I’m glad.”

  Caroline’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know how you could do it to them. They paid for your scholarship at school, the ski trips, and they invited you into their home and...and you...” Caroline broke off with a sob.

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “And Mother is really upset.”

  “I’ll talk to her, try to explain. I didn’t want to upset any of you.”

  Caroline frowned. “Michael said you were leaving tomorrow.”

  “I am, but I’ll ring your mother and apologise.”

  “How did you manage to get Michael to forgive you? You always could wrap him around your little finger.”

  “I couldn’t lie to the police, Caroline. I had to tell them what I know. And Malcolm and Gwen were always so nice to me...”

  “Nice? That lying slut?”

  “Caroline!” I fought against my desire to argue the point with her. If Gwen had been a lying slut, what did that make Caroline’s father, Lawrence?

  “Oh don’t look so shocked. It’s what everyone is thinking.”

  “It didn’t mean she deserved to die like that.”

  “Yes she did,” Caroline said and sat down heavily on the bed.

  “Caroline, things aren’t always back and white.” I looked down at her, but she refused to look me in the eye. “Gwen did things that hurt your family, but she didn’t deserve to die, and it’s not fair to say things like that about her when she’s dead and can’t defend herself.”

  Caroline shot me a sideways glance, her narrowed eyes gave her a sly look. “She didn’t defend herself then, either.”

  I hesitated, then said, “What do you mean?”

  “When I hit her over the head with the paperweight.” She smacked her hands together, making me jump.

  Caroline’s eyes looked a little unfocused, and I wondered whether she’d taken something. Was this some elaborate scheme to divert attention from her father?

  “You shouldn’t say stuff like that, Caroline. Someone might believe you.”

  “I did do it,” Caroline said in a quiet voice. “I thought you’d guessed. I thought you were trying to make me feel guilty enough to confess.”

  I stared at her.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I never meant to kill her.”

  “Have you told anyone else?”

  Caroline shook her head.

  “Maybe you could argue it was in self-defence. You might get off,” I said. “What will you do?”

  Caroline looked up at me and tilted her head to one side. “What do you think I should do?”

  My mind was whirling. I couldn’t think straight. I pushed myself up from the bed and paced the room. “I think you should talk to someone. Michael and your mother. They’d be able to get you brilliant legal representation.” I moved across to Caroline and put a hand on her shoulder. “They’ll be able to help.”

  “I thought I would keep it a secret. No one has to know.”

  “But you can’t. What about Malcolm? He’s already served five years for something he didn’t do. And what about your father? He’s been arrested.”

  Caroline folded her arms. “Well, he isn’t exactly blameless in all this.”

  I tried another approach. “Okay, tell me what you want to do, tell me what happened.”

  “I don’t know.” Caroline looked down at her hands, her fingers locked together. “I didn’t plan anything. That night, after you fell asleep, I went to get a glass of water, and I saw her in the study. Her dress was undone, and her hair was all messed up. It was obvious what she had been doing. When I told her to get out, she laughed at me, told me my father wanted her to stay.”

  Caroline clenched her fists. “She made me so angry. Doing that in our house. In my mother’s home.”

  “So you hit her?”

  Caroline nodded.

  I put a hand on Caroline’s arm. “We can’t make this go away. We’ll have to tell someone.”

  Caroline nodded, and she sighed softly. “I thought you’d say something like that.”

  Something shifted in Caroline’s face. Her pupils were pin-pricks as she stared at me.

  “I’m sorry, Lucy,” she said. “But I don’t have a choice. I have to.”

  “Have to what? Caroline, what are you talking about?”

  Caroline stood up, her face fixed in a grimace of concentration, and for a moment, I felt a stab of panic. Don’t be ridiculous, I told myself, it’s Caroline, your friend. Why sho
uld I be afraid of her?

  “I can’t trust you not to tell, Lucy.”

  “What are you doing? I’m your friend.” I backed up.

  Caroline moved towards me, and I stepped back as far as I could, until I backed into the windowsill.

  Caroline lunged at me, and I put my hands up in defence, but I didn’t want to hurt Caroline and just fended off the first couple of blows, thinking she would run out of steam. But when one of Caroline’s fists made contact with my jaw, I tasted blood and panicked.

  “Stop,” I yelled and shoved Caroline back as hard as I could.

  Caroline’s hip hit the corner of the dresser, sending the vanity mirror crashing to the ground. I hoped the noise would bring Mrs. Grimshaw running.

  Caroline came at me again, and I toppled back against the open window. I raised my foot, defensively, to kick Caroline away, but it sent me slightly off balance, and I was pushed further through the window.

  Where was Mrs. Grimshaw? Surely she could hear us shouting.

  Caroline pushed down on my chest. Most of my upper body was hanging out of the open window.

  I screamed and grasped at the window frame, trying to pull myself back. “Caroline, stop! Please.”

  I felt one of Caroline’s hands move to my throat. I was gripping the window frame tightly, so I didn’t fall, and I couldn’t defend myself as Caroline’s fingers tightened around my throat. When I tried to scream again, the only sound I made was a low gurgle.

  I felt raindrops hitting my face, I turned my head and looked down at the wet pavement. Two storeys. Would I survive the fall?

  Not if I fell head first. I kicked out, desperately trying to pull myself back into the room.

  “Caroline?”

  It was Michael’s voice.

  The second Caroline was distracted, I took my chance. I kicked her hard, in the stomach and then as Caroline bent double, clutching her stomach, I kicked again, this time my foot connected with Caroline’s face.

  Michael pulled Caroline away from me, as she screamed at him and scratched his face. He bundled her to the ground.

  I was able to pull myself back down and away from the window sill. My legs felt like jelly, and I couldn’t stop shaking as I watched Caroline crying on the floor.

  Chapter 41

  “What the hell is going on?” Michael demanded.

  Caroline was sobbing inconsolably, so he turned to me.

  I managed to speak, although my voice trembled. “Caroline killed Gwen. She was... trying to stop me from telling anyone.”

  “No!” Caroline screamed, struggling against Michael. “Don’t listen to her. She was never my friend. She only ever wanted to get close to you. She used me. She’s like Gwen, flirting with everyone, trying to manipulate men.”

  I couldn’t find the words to reply.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you, Lucy,” Caroline said. “But I had to protect my family.”

  “Like you killed Gwen to protect your family?” I screamed at her.

  Caroline blinked. “Yes,” she said softly. “She was going to destroy us.”

  She looked up at me, tears running down her cheeks, madness in her eyes.

  She buried her head against Michael’s chest and sobbed.

  I met Michael’s stunned gaze, and the hurt in his eyes ripped through my heart. How could he cope with the knowledge his own sister was a cold-blooded killer?

  ***

  Later, after Jake arrived with the family lawyer and took Caroline to the police station, I sat on the bed in the guest house, wrapped up in a duvet. Michael managed to get hold of some brandy, and I’d taken a hot bath, but I still couldn’t stop shivering.

  Michael spoke on his mobile phone. He kept his voice low, so I couldn’t make out most of the conversation, but from what I heard, I gathered he was talking to Jake.

  “What’s happening,” I asked as soon as he ended the call and pulled the phone away from his ear.

  Michael came to sit on the bed beside me. “Jake’s taken Caroline to the police station, but she’s okay. Harry will do his best for her.”

  “I should call Freddie. He’ll be worried.”

  Michael took the glass from my shaking hand. “No. He won’t. He doesn’t know what happened yet. I think you should leave it until tomorrow.”

  “I know she’s your sister, Michael, and you won’t believe it, but she did try to kill me. She tried to push me out...” I looked at the window and shuddered.

  Michael put an arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “You don’t believe me.”

  Michael sighed. “I do, Lucy. I saw her. I saw you both struggling from the street below.” He gently kissed my forehead. “I think you should try to get some sleep now.”

  “I can’t.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. “I won’t leave you.”

  I rested my head on his shoulder. “Promise?”

  He cupped my face in his hands and lightly kissed my lips. “I promise. You’re stuck with me, now.”

  I kissed him back, hungrily, eager to forget everything but how it felt to be close to him.

  “You should be the one leaving,” he murmured against my lips.

  “What?” I pulled back.

  “You should get as far away from my crazy family as you can”

  I stared up at him and saw how vulnerable he was. He was afraid I would leave him. His veil of confidence had fallen away and now, for the first time, I was seeing him anxious and afraid, and I knew he cared about me. I knew he didn’t want me to leave.

  He looked down at me, his eyes searching mine for the answer he needed, waiting for me to accept or reject him.

  I reached up and touched his cheek. “I won’t leave you, Michael.”

  And I knew I wouldn’t. I knew, despite everything that had happened, I would never run away from Michael as long as he still wanted me.

  Chapter 42

  I pushed open the door with my shoulder, careful not to spill the two takeaway coffees I carried. The smell of paint, and the sight of Michael in paint-splattered jeans and t-shirt made me smile.

  “You’re supposed to put it on the walls, not your clothes,” I said.

  He moved forward, arms open to hug me, grinning.

  I backed away. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Oh, all right. I’ll settle for the coffee. I’m parched.”

  “You could have gone and got one yourself.”

  “My boss is a slave driver,” he said, winking at me. “She wouldn’t let me have the time off.”

  I handed him a coffee. “Look at the mess,” I said giving him a mock stern look. “You’re supposed to be a painter.”

  “Walls are not my speciality. I’m better on canvas,” he said, and ignoring my protests, he set both our coffees down on the counter and pulled me into a hug.

  I kissed him, then pulled away.

  “How did it go this morning?” I asked.

  I had been worrying about his visit to see Caroline in the secure psychiatric hospital all day.

  Michael sighed, picked up his coffee and took a sip. “Not too bad. She seemed okay. She asked after you.”

  I shivered.

  “She’s off cocaine now, and she looks more like her old self.” Michael took another sip of coffee. “You could visit.”

  I shook my head. “No. Not yet. I’m not ready for that.”

  I’d spent time with Michael’s parents and Jake, twice over the past six months. It wasn’t exactly easy for any of us, but I was trying for Michael’s sake.

  Michael nodded. “She wanted me to thank you for not telling the police she attacked you.”

  I shrugged. Caroline would be in prison for fifteen years for the manslaughter of Gwen. Whatever time she got for attacking me would be small change in comparison.

  “I didn’t do it for Caroline,” I said.

  “I know.”

  I rested my head
against his chest.

  He stroked my hair and then said, “I almost forgot. Something came in the post for you today. I have a pretty good idea what it is.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and handed me a small white envelope.

  I opened it and pulled out a white card decorated with silver bells. “Ah, it’s Freddie’s wedding invitation.” I ran a finger over the silver embossed pattern. “I’m so glad he and Bess finally got together.”

  “We better think about our wedding invitations soon.”

  I groaned. “Maybe we should elope.”

  “No chance. Freddie would never forgive you.”

  Michael stepped back and looked around the room. “It’s looking good, isn’t it?”

  I had to agree. With the walls painted, the place looked fresher and brighter, the perfect backdrop for all the artwork we would hang on the walls. It used to be a sweet shop, with two flats above the shop, but it needed a lot of work.

  We needed money coming in while we carried out the repairs, so I stayed on at my old job, while Michael worked on the renovations. The gallery would be on the ground floor, we would live on the first floor, and Michael’s studio, with stunning views of Edinburgh, would be on the second floor.

  It was better than good.

  “It’s perfect,” I said.

  About Caidan Trubel

  I’ve always loved books. I adore exploring new characters and worlds, and a number of story ideas of my own were forever rolling around in my head. Writing them down seemed to be the next logical step.

  So I did.

  Last year, I sat down and wrote Staverton. To my surprise, I actually finished writing the story. I just had to know how it ended. Now I am hard at work on my next book!

  Stay updated and find out about my new books by adding your name to my Newsletter, and I’ll send you an e-mail every now and again with details on my new books, competitions and giveaways.

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