Hold Back the Night

by Hold Back the Night (retail) (epub)

  Donna did not, however, go in front of the train. Instead, in what was a bizarre fluke that may well have saved her life, she had left her run too late, and had been struck by the corner of the driver’s carriage instead of the front of it. Any sooner and she would have been killed almost immediately, and then dragged underneath the train until it could have stopped towards the end of the platform. Any later and she may well have fallen down into the gap and been ripped to pieces by the onrushing wheels. As it was she hit the corner of the train and was hammered backwards onto the platform. Like a man punched in a comedy western she was thrown back thirty feet before sliding along the floor another twenty and hitting the wall. Andy said it was lucky it was so early on a weekend and the station was quiet, or else she may well have caused serious injury to anyone else waiting for a train that morning.

  The tourist who had seen Natalie had tried to phone for assistance, but on picking up the emergency phone had found herself unable to speak. She had forgotten all of the English she’d learned, even though she was almost fluent in it. It was only four hours later that she was able to say what had happened, by which time the police had viewed the CCTV cameras anyway. It was the driver who had notified the control room and asked for an ambulance. When it came he got in the back of it too.

  I asked Andy how come it had taken so long for him to get over here.

  ‘They didn’t know who she was,’ he told me. ‘They had no idea we were interested in her and a couple of the locals caught it. They simply established that she hadn’t been pushed or anything and then left it to the medics. It was only a couple of hours ago that some nurse found her rail pass, and called the station, who ran it over the computer. It was in her sock, for some reason, as well as fifty quid or so. I don’t know why she kept it there.’

  ‘It’s about as safe a place as you can get when you’re on the street,’ I told him. ‘I’ve watched homeless kids putting paper money in their shoes before now. They change it up whenever they get enough, it saves carting coins around.’ I thought about the guy in the newsagent an hour before. ‘If you ever need change for a fiver’, I said, ‘go to the nearest doorway.’

  We sat for a while, and then Andy’s face took on a frown. He looked up towards the ceiling and then at me.

  ‘It was here, wasn’t it?’ he asked me. ‘I mean this ward? Further up the other end. Christ, I can remember it as if it were last week. You and that girl. Sharon, one I called earlier. You were both here. Fuck, it must be hard for you to come back and look at—’

  ‘Have you seen the tape?’ I said, cutting Andy off. My eyes found his.

  ‘Not yet,’ he said, quickly. He turned his head back to Natalie. ‘Spoke to the locals though, they say it’s pretty clear cut, no one else anywhere near, hardly anyone on the platform…’

  Right then there was a slight commotion at the far end of the ward. We both stood up and looked round the curtain. I could see a nurse and a doctor arguing with a couple of men, one of whom was holding a camera. They were trying to get onto the ward.

  ‘Officer!’

  The doctor called back over his shoulder. Andy walked towards him and the nurse, who was practically being pushed backwards by the man trying to get past her. I took a step forward but thought I’d better let Andy deal with it. Andy quickened his pace and I watched as he pulled out his badge and stuck it in the faces of the two guys before asking them to wait outside. They didn’t do it and so I heard Andy telling them. They weren’t too happy but most policemen soon learn ways of telling people to do things so that they do them, and the two men reluctantly backed out through the thick plastic doors. The nurse, who was the ward sister, stood with her hands on her hips.

  ‘Like I don’t have enough to do,’ she said. ‘Arseholes.’ She let out a breath before following the men out of the ward.

  The doctor stuck his hands deep in his pockets. I could see him thanking Andy, and then Andy followed him back down towards where I was standing. As he walked along Andy reached into his jacket, and while I was shaking the doctor’s hand and telling him who I was Andy punched some numbers into his mobile. The doctor was about to tell him not to use it but it was already too late.

  ‘At least a couple,’ I heard him say. ‘Four if you can spare them. We’ve just got the first wave now and there are bound to be more.’ He waited a second. ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘drugs. The first whiff of kids and drugs and these bastards start circling like buzzards. And I bet if I searched these two now I’d find enough coke to make a paperweight.’ I saw the doctor smile. ‘OK,’ Andy nodded into his phone. ‘Will do.’ He snapped it shut and slid the phone back into his jacket before turning his attention to the doctor.

  ‘So, you confirmed it then?’

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ the man said.

  The doctor, who was one of those very affable, posh Englishmen with fluffy blond hair who it is impossible to dislike no matter what class you are, took Natalie’s chart off the end of the bed and tucked it under his arm.

  ‘We do that,’ he explained, ‘when the media are around.’

  The doctor explained that tests had shown a high concentration of Ecstasy in Natalie’s blood, a sample of which had been taken earlier. The doctor would have been within his rights not to tell Andy this, but I imagine that Andy impressed on him the need to get on and find out what had happened to Donna as soon as possible. The fact itself didn’t surprise or shock me. It was true of 90 per cent of London’s teenagers at some point in their lives, if not quite in that amount. Natalie had probably had four tablets, the doctor said, although it was impossible to tell given the range of concentrations available. I heard what he was telling me but couldn’t peg it to the presence of the two bloodhounds Andy had just ejected. It was so commonplace. I’d done it, Andy had done it, the two guys who were now waiting outside had done it and so, probably, had the doctor at some stage. I asked him why he thought they were so interested in Donna particularly.

  ‘A new angle,’ he explained. He dug his hands so far into his pockets that his arms were almost straight down by his sides. ‘A new way to package it. Some bad Ecstasy kills you, or you dehydrate, or you drink too much water and your brain swells. All been done. But now it makes you suicidal. Can’t you see it? “Ecstasy Girl In Suicide Lunge’’.’

  I could see it.

  ‘But it’s supposed to make you happy!’ Andy said. ‘Christ, it made me feel like a fucking prince.’

  ‘It all depends’, the doctor said, ‘on your state of mind. But I have to say, it’s the first time I’ve heard of it, which was why we took so long with the tests, expecting to find something else. But we didn’t. Just Ecstasy, and a small amount of alcohol. Which is why those boys will have a field day.’

  ‘If she dies,’ Andy said.

  ‘Either way,’ the doctor said. ‘But you’re probably right. They’ll have more to say if she doesn’t make it.’ The doctor took us aside and explained that Natalie was very seriously injured and that there was a chance she would never regain consciousness. Andy asked that they should call him immediately as soon as she did wake up, assuming she did. The doctor left, but Andy and I stayed with Natalie until the uniforms Andy had ordered showed up. We sat by the bed just looking at her. Andy shook his head and wanted to know what sort of person tries to break into hospital wards to take pictures of sick children. I couldn’t tell him. I wondered who it was in the hospital who had let these people know about her. A porter? A nurse? An intern?

  ‘A nice little earner that from time to time’, I said, ‘for someone.’

  ‘Some cunt.’

  As we waited, Andy asked me if I had any ideas about Natalie, and why she’d done what she had. I told him what she had told me in the cafe that time, when I’d bought her breakfast, and he nodded like it was all the explanation he needed. But I said that I found it hard to believe it was just because of that. She’d been strong enough to run away from it, she’d seemed able to cope with it when she’d told me about it.

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nbsp; ‘But maybe the drugs did make it bigger,’ I shrugged, ‘who knows?’

  ‘Not me,’ Andy said. ‘At least not until I’ve seen the video. Probably not even then by the sound of it. You want a look?’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, again a little surprised. ‘Thanks, Andy.’

  When the two noddies came Andy filled them in. He put one of them by the bed and the other on the door. We walked out into the waiting area and there were now four other people there, all press, all being spoken to severely by the ward sister, who was looking at them as though they were all contagious with something very nasty indeed. Andy and I tried to slip past but they spotted us and ran over. Most of London’s crime press know most of London’s police, at least by sight. I pushed my way through them to the corridor that led to the exit while they besieged Andy with questions, which he did his best to ignore. One of them, however, had a long memory. He darted over to me.

  ‘You back on the beat then…?’ He was searching for my name. I wasn’t going to give it to him. He was a small man in his mid-forties, whom I vaguely recognized, largely due to a huge epiglottis that swayed below his chin like a plum in a plastic bag. His voice whined like a kettle boiling on a deaf man’s stove.

  ‘No,’ I said.

  ‘No? What you doing here then?’

  ‘Ingrowing toenail.’

  ‘Bollocks.’ He stepped closer to me and lowered his voice to a simple hiss. ‘Come on, give us a hint. She full of smack or what? Horse? E? It’s E, isn’t it?’

  ‘Big toe, left foot. Very painful.’

  ‘Oh, fuck you then.’ He waved a hand at me and turned to go. ‘Rucker, that’s it.’ He turned back with a grin. ‘Rucker. Shouldn’t give you a hard time really, should I? Nah. Got a lot of good copy out of you at one time if I remember. Very good copy. Dramatic. Five years ago? At this hospital, wasn’t it? In fact, wasn’t it in this very…?’

  I watched, almost as amazed as he was, as my right hand reached out and took a handful of the man’s collar, catching hold of a fair chunk of loose skin too, cutting off air to his windpipe. I watched as my hand twisted him against the wall. I saw my hand squeeze tighter and my arm push him backwards, hard, and his eyes widen with surprise as he fought for breath. My hand gripped tighter and we were both very still for a second. Then, as I saw his tongue reaching forward and the panic beginning to well behind in his eyes, my arm became mine again and I pulled my fingers apart and let him go, setting him gently on his feet like a toy boat on a glassy pond. We looked at each other and then I drew my hand back slowly before walking towards the exit. The guy didn’t follow me, simply choking out ’Twat!’ before turning back to Andy, who was reluctantly giving up a very bland statement.

  I unclenched the left hand, which I hadn’t realized was clenched, and walked along the flatly lit corridor until I reached the main foyer. I stood with my back against the reception desk, pinching the bridge of my nose against the first jarring vibrations of what I prayed would not be a migraine. I winced, rubbed my temples with my thumbs, and shook my head at how stupid I’d nearly been. The desire to hurt the guy had been huge, I didn’t know where it had come from. I let out a long breath and looked back down the corridor.

  I thought about just leaving but I decided to wait for Andy, to fix up a time to see the videotape. There was no point wasting this amenable mood of his. There’s no A and E unit at the Whittington now and so the foyer was empty but for a couple of black guys in overalls, stood by a coffee machine, sharing a quiet joke. There was something comforting about their soft laughter. I took another look back towards the ward and then glanced at my watch. I was amazed to see that it was after two. I wondered how the hell it got that late. And then my arms dropped to my sides, my eyes closed, and I let out a long breath.

  I hadn’t phoned Sharon.

  ‘Fuck.’

  I hadn’t meant to say it out loud, let alone quite as loud as I had, and the nurse behind the desk raised an eyebrow at me. I was embarrassed, and was about to apologize, and ask her where I might find a phone, when her eyes moved from me to the entrance. Two people were hurrying through the door, moving straight towards her. They were middle aged, a middle-aged couple and they both looked exhausted, but manic at the same time. Especially the woman. She held one hand out in front of her, holding the other to her chest. She beat her husband to the desk. I looked away, not interested, and willed Andy to get a move on. But then I turned back to them.

  ‘Our daughter. Our daughter. She’s here.’

  The nurse spread her hands. ‘Just a moment, madam, if you could—’

  ‘Donna,’ the woman said. She was a slightly tubby fifty-year-old, and her face was a white Chinese mask, painted with worry. ‘Donna. Donna Appleby. The police, they phoned us. We’ve driven for hours. Where is she? Please take me to her, I’m her mother.’

  The man had caught up with his wife by now but he didn’t say anything. He stood beside her, resting one hand on the counter, the other on his wife’s shoulder. He was a tall, military-looking man, with very full grey hair and thick eyebrows the colour of barbed wire.

  ‘If you could wait a second, madam, I’ll find out where she is. Please, take a seat, I won’t be long.’

  ‘Donna, Donna Appleby, I have to…’

  I saw the husband’s hand grip his wife’s shoulder and she was silent, though her whole body seemed to be urging the nurse to hurry up. They stayed where they were while the nurse picked up her desk phone and spoke into it quietly, her back to them. They hadn’t noticed me. I pushed myself off the desk and took a step towards them. The nurse put the phone down and turned back to the couple.

  ‘Now, if you’ll please just take—’

  ‘Nurse,’ I said. I spoke loudly, looking straight at her. She was confused but turned to me. The couple turned too. ‘Nurse,’ I said again. ‘I need you to page Dr Fursten for me. It’s very important. I need to speak with him. Urgently. Please could you do it now.’

  The woman hesitated. But I knew she’d seen me with Andy Gold and she wavered. She broke my look.

  ‘If you’ll just take a seat,’ she said, to the couple by my side, neither of whom had ever seen me before or had any idea who I was. ‘A nurse will be through in a second. And I’m sure that she’ll take you to Donna. Please.’

  The nurse put a little firmness in her look. Reluctantly, the two people stepped away from the desk and shuffled backwards to the empty lines of blue plastic seating, where they sat, the wife perched on the edge of her seat, her husband sitting with his elbows on his knees, staring straight in front of him. Beside me, the nurse picked up the phone again.

  In a nearby side room I told Fursten why I had called him. I told him why the girl in his care had run away to London and changed her name to Natalie. I told him that her parents had now arrived to see her, which he already knew. He looked at me steadily and nodded gravely, biting his bottom lip when the implications of what I was telling him were absolutely clear. It didn’t take very long, he was an intelligent man.

  ‘If she comes to,’ I said, ‘and she looks up, and sees the people who—’

  ‘Yes. Yes.’ The doctor nodded quickly. He didn’t look too thrilled at the prospect of some of the decisions he was going to have to make in the next minutes and hours. Days even. ‘Thank you. I’d… They are still her parents though. Maybe she’ll still want to speak to them, even in spite of…you know?’

  I shrugged, which told him I couldn’t help. He nodded, knowing it was down to him.

  ‘I’ll go and speak to them now,’ he said.

  I yawned, and followed Dr Fursten out of the room. I let him get ahead of me, and watched as he introduced himself to the couple waiting for him in the foyer. I hung back further and then stopped, looking at the entrance to the unit. I saw a trolley crash through it, fast, people holding bottles connected to tubes, others pushing, some shouting out instructions, some simply trying to keep up, trying not to get in the way. One of them was me. I heard a voice.

 
‘Sir?’ It was the nurse. It sounded like the third time she’d spoken.

  ‘Sir? The policeman. The one you were with? He asked me to tell you that he’s gone home.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘He said to say you should call him.’

  ‘Right.’ I stayed staring at the empty doorway. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘He said… Sir? Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry.’ I shook my head and turned to her and did my best to smile. ‘I was somewhere else.’

  She smiled back. ‘Lucky you.’

  ‘Or, rather, I was here.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘I was here, six years ago. Right here, right here where I am now.’

  The nurse laughed nervously. I wished her goodnight and walked towards the entrance. The doctor was sitting with his back to me, talking to Mr and Mrs Appleby. I walked right past but I didn’t look at them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  In the hospital car park I stood for a minute, trying to breathe the thick, warm air through the resonating pain behind my eyes. I breathed into my ribs, the way Luke had once shown me, and tried to imagine the air leaving through the top of my head and taking the pain with it. It didn’t work. I couldn’t focus on it. I kept getting distracted by the crowd of people running through my brain.

  After Luke’s accident on the Westway they brought him here, to the Whittington, which in those days had an Accident and Emergency Unit. Sharon had gone in the ambulance with him but there wasn’t room for me, and so I’d gone with Andy in the unmarked car we used. We had weaved and pushed through the dregs of the rush-hour traffic, the sirens of three police cars and an ambulance screaming the way I wanted to scream.