Mindsight

by Chris Curran

  When I’d finished Alice gave an enormous sigh. ‘Do you know, there was a moment in the hospital with you … ’ Another trembling breath. ‘I heard about the drugs in your system and had a horrible thought that you might have taken them from me on Em’s hen night. I had some with me then because work was impossible and I was so tired all the time. But I stopped using them before the wedding because they made me feel worse. I knew I didn’t have any with me that day, but I still checked when I got home to see if any were missing.’

  ‘And were there?’

  ‘No.’ How ridiculously easy it was in the end.

  She went to the fire. One of the logs was spitting sparks and she moved it about with the poker. ‘We know Lorna was unhappy and had access to drugs. So I suppose it makes sense. She wasn’t drinking at the wedding, but I remember her having quite a lot back at the hotel. I wonder if she went to bed, saw some capsules were missing, and panicked. She wouldn’t have been thinking straight.’

  ‘But to keep it secret all this time?’

  ‘How could she tell anyone? God, Clare, she must have been in an agony of guilt at first, but she knew it wouldn’t really help you. You were still culpable.’

  ‘But when I started going back over it all, and told her some memory was returning, she knew it would come out eventually. Poor Lorna.’

  I put my mug on the floor and we shared a long glance. Then she knelt in front of me, pulled me into a hug, and I dropped a kiss onto her soft hair.

  *

  Alice gave me a sleeping pill and I didn’t wake from my drugged oblivion till after midday: my head and my limbs so heavy I felt like staying in bed forever.

  I longed to be able to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. After another hour I dragged myself downstairs. The house was empty. In the kitchen a note told me Alice would be home about six. She had called Emily and also Stella, who said not to rush back to work too soon.

  I couldn’t summon up an interest in anything to eat or drink. Instead, I crawled onto the big armchair in the living room, and the next thing I knew Tom was looking at me as he cradled a mug.

  ‘Hi Mum, it’s half-past four. I’ve made you some coffee.’

  I forced a smile. ‘Hello, you,’ and raised the mug. ‘This is just what I need. Alice gave me a sleeping pill and it’s really knocked me out.’

  He perched on a footstool, his gaze steady, but his cheeks colouring up. ‘Alice said Lorna died, and you found her. That must have been awful. I’m ever so sorry. She was nice.’

  ‘Yes she was.’

  He stood, big hands dangling at his side, made a move towards me, thought better of it, coloured even more, and then remembered something. ‘Alice says you’re not to do anything. She’ll cook when she gets in.’ His eyes flickered to my dressing gown, then to the stairs. ‘Mark’s here for tea. I told him to stay in my room.’

  I pulled my belt tight. ‘Oh right. I’ll get dressed.’

  I felt so leaden with tiredness that by the time I managed to wash and pull on some clothes, Alice was calling that food was ready. Mark looked at me curiously, but was soon intent on eating. Tom carried my food over, telling me to be careful it was hot, then passed me the bread and jumped up to get me a glass of water. I grabbed a piece of kitchen towel and scrubbed at my face, as Tom and Mark shared a glance.

  I refused Alice’s offer of another sleeping pill, but slept well all the same. When I woke I felt clear-headed and I was up and dressed before anyone else. Alice came down as I was drinking my second cup of coffee.

  She smiled. ‘You look a lot better.’

  ‘I’m fine. I’ll go home on the train this morning.’

  She tried to persuade me to stay, but I was determined, knowing I couldn’t even begin to process this until I was back to some semblance of normal life.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  As we pulled up at Wadhurst Station, Alice put her hand on my knee. ‘You know you could still come and stay with us for a bit. Forget about the job and take some time to be with Tom and me. It would do us all good.’

  I raised my eyebrows at her. ‘Thought we’d been over this ground months ago?’

  She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, looking in the rear view mirror as a taxi drew up behind us. ‘But things have changed. We never expected it to be this difficult.’

  ‘I did.’

  She made a small noise and her hand fluttered towards me, but then returned to the steering wheel. I went on, hoping she would believe me. ‘OK, I didn’t think Lorna would die, but it’s been better with Tom than I dared hope and I still need to be independent. You must see that.’

  She crossed her arms, but gave me a sweet smile. ‘I do, of course I do. It’s just … I can’t help worrying about you.’

  I kissed her cheek and jumped out of the car, leaning back in to say. ‘I’m the big sis, not you, worrying’s my job.’ My train was due, so I flapped my hand at her to drive away. ‘Go to work, doctor, there’re sick people queuing up for your attention.’

  On the train I tried not to think, but it was impossible. I wasn’t sure how much of the misery I felt was grief for Lorna and how much was anger. It didn’t matter anymore that she might have been lying to me all these years and knew precisely what had happened on that night, or even that the accident was partly her fault. I just wished she had told me rather than taking the easy way out. But perhaps she thought I would never be able to forgive her if I knew the whole truth. And perhaps she was right.

  I jumped when my mobile bleeped with a text.

  Mum, don’t be too sad. I’ll ring you later. Tom XXX

  I had the phone pressed to my chest, rubbing the plastic and trying to hold back the tears when it rang.

  ‘Tom?’

  ‘No, it’s Matt.’

  The reception was terrible and I could hardly hear him, but I caught the words Lorna and all right.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. Look, Matt, you keep cutting out. I’m on the train, but I’ll call you when I get home in about half an hour.’

  The air was chill with the threat of storm and as I approached the flat it began to rain heavily. I was wet by the time I got into the hall and I stood shaking the rain from my hair and wriggling inside my damp T-shirt.

  Heavy feet pounded up the path. A loud rap on the door. The stained glass at the top was darkened by the shadow of a man’s head distorted by the curve of the window. The doorbell buzzed twice. I looked towards Nic’s silent flat as the buzz came again, then a burst of knocking.

  ‘Open up. It’s raining out here.’

  I put the chain on the door and opened it a crack.

  Matt, only Matt.

  ‘I thought you saw me running after you.’ He was breathless and laughing.

  My own laugh came on a wave of relief and I took off the chain as discreetly as I could. He shook himself like a friendly dog.

  ‘I was sitting in the car waiting for you. It would pick now to start a downpour. Get the kettle on, will you.’

  I was suddenly very glad he was here. I’d been dreading coming in to the flat on my own. ‘It’s great to see you again, but why?’ I said.

  He took over the tea making. ‘Let me have a drink first. I’ve been waiting for ages. One of your neighbours came out and I asked her if you were in, but she looked at me as if I was the mad axe murderer and wouldn’t say.’

  I smiled. ‘That must have been Nic. I was staying at Alice’s.’

  He added milk to the mugs and passed one to me, heading for the sofa. The springs twanged as he dropped onto it. ‘I should have guessed. We heard about Lorna and that’s why we decided I should tell you this face to face.’

  A big gulp of tea, so hot it scalded my tongue. ‘You’ve seen Downes?’

  ‘Yeah. I found out where he lives and gave him some bullshit about trying to track down a mate of mine from his year at school.’ Matt patted the sofa beside him and I perched on the edge. ‘When I offered to take him to the pub to talk about it he couldn’t get there fast enough
and after a few drinks we were best pals. Pretty sorry for himself is our Jacob.’

  ‘Did he say anything useful?’

  ‘Once he was well lubricated, I started on about how some people have it easy. Rich bastards who think they can get away with anything. Not like the rest of us.’

  I put my tea on the floor. ‘So what did he tell you?’

  ‘He was going on about how he’d made some money once because he happened to be in the right place at the right time and I decided to take a chance. Told him I’d just realised I recognised him from your trial. Made out I was on the jury. Said I’d always wondered if he knew more than he said, even though he’d done brilliantly on the stand and fooled everyone else.’

  I twisted to face him. ‘And?’

  ‘I overplayed my hand. Have to admit I was enjoying it, but he’s not quite as stupid as he looks and he’s obviously scared to death. He said he had to go, but I’d just got another round in and I managed to calm him down. Said I’d guessed he was covering for someone else at the accident and hoped he was well paid for it.’

  This was agony. ‘Matt, please.’

  A long drink of his tea. ‘I think you need to hear this properly. Make your own mind up about what it means.’

  I raised my palm to him. ‘Sorry, go on.’

  ‘Well, he ranted on, but in the midst of all the bluster he said something important.’

  I wasn’t breathing.

  Matt tapped his lips with his fist. ‘Hang on I want to get this right. He said, “It wasn’t my fault. She said she had somewhere important to be and there was no need for us both to stay, but best not mention she was there. I never knew there’d be any trouble.”’ Matt swallowed the rest of his tea in a noisy gulp then put his mug on the coffee table.

  My heart, after one huge thump, seemed to have stopped. ‘She? He said, she?’

  Matt took off his glasses: his face looked strange and naked without them. He rubbed hard at the lenses with a tissue. ‘He tried to cover it up, but yes, definitely she. I pretended I hadn’t noticed, carried on supping my pint.’

  ‘Did you get a description?’

  He slipped his glasses on again. ‘No, he clammed up after that, but clearly she paid him to keep quiet.’

  So tired, I was so tired. A huge sigh burst out and I wanted to howl with misery. ‘Lorna killed herself, Matt. Did Alice tell you?’

  ‘Yes. That’s why I had to see you myself.’

  ‘So you think she was the woman?’

  ‘If she was, and she knew you were getting close to the truth, I suppose suicide would make sense.’

  He looked at me and held out his arms, ‘Come here.’

  I pressed my face into his soft sweater. ‘She could have told me. Even now she could have told me. I loved her so much, Matt.’

  His heavy hand soothed my back. ‘I know.’

  After a while I moved away and he pulled a tissue from the box on the coffee table and handed it to me. I blew my nose and scrubbed my eyes.

  He went over to look out of the window, hands in his pockets. A sunbeam split the dark clouds. ‘What worries me,’ he said, ‘is that he may have guessed I was there for you. I’d bought him a few drinks, dropped him a few quid, and I was his best mate for a while. But when he got careless, I lost him and he walked out on me. I went after him, still trying to be friendly, but the little shite came over all macho. Talking about Mr Hillier and, that nosy bitch, who I guess is you, and how you were trying to fit him up.’

  ‘Did you tell him I don’t want to cause him any trouble?’

  He turned, the shaft of sun behind him blurring his face. ‘I’m sorry, but the way he was talking about you really got me. So I grabbed him, pushed him against the wall, and told him in no uncertain terms what I’d do if he bothered you.’

  I swallowed and something stumbled in my chest.

  Matt sat next to me again, taking my hands. ‘I know that’s not how you wanted me to play it, but, honestly, I think going softly, softly, with a fucker like that has its limits.’

  Maybe he was right. ‘OK, but don’t do anything more for now, will you.’

  ‘Whatever you say. But don’t worry, I should think he’s used to being on the wrong end of a bit of rough stuff. He’s the sort who asks for it. Doubt he’ll even remember what happened if he sees me again. More likely to remember the money and the pints. So I could let him know the woman is out of the picture and the case closed as far as you’re concerned, if that’s what you want?’

  I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. Case closed. Was it?

  Matt was cleaning his glasses again, giving me time, and I tried a smile. ‘No, just leave it, please. It’s probably best if we keep away from him.’

  He shook his head, ‘I just can’t believe all this.’

  ‘I know. I keep thinking I should have left it alone. Maybe it would have been better not to know. Lorna might still be alive.’

  ‘You can’t blame yourself for that. She made her own choices.’

  It was good to talk to him. ‘Do you know, Matt, I think I’m close to getting my memory back, which is what I’ve been hoping for all these weeks, but now I’m so scared I might remember something even worse, something terrible.’

  We sat for a while in silence until I became aware of him shifting on the sofa, anxious to get going, no doubt. I smiled at him. ‘But thank you for seeing Jacob Downes and for coming all this way when Emily needs you so much.’

  ‘After we heard about Lorna there was no question.’ He stood, with a quick glance towards the door. ‘But it’s a fair old drive home and I can’t leave them for too long.’ His smile and the look in his eyes told me he was already back with them in his mind. With his wife and baby. His own happy life.

  When he was gone, I washed the mugs and made a vague attempt to tidy the kitchen, and I thought about Matt’s suggestion that we should tell Jacob Downes Lorna was dead. It was actually a good idea, but it might be better if Mr Hillier did it.

  He answered his phone right away. ‘Mrs Glazier, I’m glad you called because Jake turned up here last night. He was very agitated indeed and seemed convinced we are trying to fit him up, as he calls it. I gather someone has been to see him on your behalf.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sorry. It was my cousin and I think he was a bit too forceful.’

  ‘That’s the impression I got and I must say, Mrs Glazier, I’m not happy about it. I did tell you Jake was vulnerable.’

  ‘You did and I can only say I’m sorry. I quite understand you might want nothing more to do with me, but I’ve actually rung to ask another favour.’ He didn’t speak, but was obviously too polite to hang up on me, so I ploughed on. ‘First of all could you apologise to Jake if my cousin upset him and tell him he has nothing at all to fear from me. No one else will bother him.’

  A sound that might have been a snort came down the line. ‘Ah, that’s different and of course I’ll be only too happy to reassure him.’

  ‘But, Mr Hillier, could you also tell him we think we’ve discovered who the other driver was and she’s recently died. So it would be immensely helpful if Jake could give me some kind of description of her, just to set my mind at rest.’

  ‘You’re saying the other driver was a woman?’

  I shivered, moving from the gloomy kitchen to stand in a patch of sunlight near the windows. ‘Yes, didn’t Jake mention that to you?’

  ‘No. In fact I could have sworn he referred to the person as he.’ He was silent, obviously thinking. ‘But perhaps he was trying to mislead me or more likely, in my old-fashioned way, I just assumed it was a man.’ Another silence, then, ‘Anyway, what’s important is that I can tell Jake no one else will harass him.’

  ‘Yes, please do that.’

  ‘I will, and of course I’ll ask if he can help you with a description, although I can’t guarantee he’ll be willing to do so.’

  I knew he’d try and I thanked him for all his efforts, but I could tell he wasn’t hopeful. I threw the phone do
wn telling myself it didn’t matter that much anyway. We knew everything important already. As Matt said, the case was closed.

  I must have dozed on the sofa, lying awkwardly, because I opened my eyes, unsure where I was and with a pain in my neck. I’d been dreaming about the accident and fragments still floated in my consciousness. The fragments were bubbles that burst when I grabbed at them, but there were things that remained as the dream dissipated. I saw the very moment it happened: the dark, empty road and the blinding light from another car coming round the bend. Then the silence; a terrible silence after the noise and chaos of the crash.

  Another fragment: fire blistering my face as I tried to get near the wreck, fighting the hard hands that pulled me back. They were a man’s hands, so they must have belonged to Jacob Downes: and if so he had saved my life.

  How long I sat there, grasping at those bubbles of memory, I had no idea, but at last I was aware enough to know that I was very cold. Outside the sea was grey, with soapsuds of foam churning on the top of each swift-moving wave. Above them the sky was grey too, ripples of cloud scudding fast across it. But inside everything was muffled and I could feel all the silent rooms around me.

  I was afraid to move in case the remnants of memory dissolved again. But when I stood, although I felt shaky, the memories remained. That dream was a jolt from my subconscious, I felt sure. I’d been ready to agree with Matt and Mr Hillier and accept the idea that it was all over and I’d found out all I ever would. But that wasn’t good enough for me and it certainly wouldn’t be good enough for Tom. The memories were there, I knew it now, and I needed to stop waiting for them to surface and to work on reviving them.

  I didn’t have the DVD, but I had plenty of other stuff that could help. The photo albums were still in the bedroom drawer, along with Tom’s flow chart and the folder with all his printouts, and I brought them to the kitchen table. I carried the laptop in too and loaded the CD with the hen night photos. Lorna’s note was still in my pocket and I read it through several times; each time more confused.