The Glass Tower

by Gregg Dunnett

  "How much did you drink?" Rob asked suddenly, cutting into her thoughts.

  Julia started. "What?"

  "Well, they're going to breathalyse you, aren't they? They always do after an accident. How much did you have?"

  Julia didn't answer. Couldn't answer. It was like the question had bounced back off her. Like a stone thrown onto a thickly frozen lake.

  "I know you drank quite a bit. I was serving it, remember?"

  Her brain managed to absorb the question this time, and slowly it wound its way around her dulled synapses.

  Julia never drove when she had been drinking. It wasn't a rule she had to work hard to maintain, or even needed to think about. It was just a clear, lifelong habit. It was the wrong thing to do – therefore she didn't do it. And what followed was just as clear: if she was driving she didn't drink. She'd simply tell whoever was offering her a glass of white wine that she couldn't accept it because she had to drive. It wasn't that she didn't like drinking – there was always a bottle of white wine in her fridge at home – but she would never touch it when she had to drive. Julia had never driven when she'd drunk alcohol. Never.

  But tonight that had all gone out of the window. And until this awful, gut-sinking moment, she hadn't even realised it. It was because she'd been hiding the fact she was driving. Because of that, she hadn’t needed to tell anyone she wasn’t drinking; indeed she’d been unable to tell them. Plus, of course, she’d been so taken in with the excitement of the party, that it was simply the last thing on her mind. She had merely forgotten that she'd been drinking. Forgotten she had been driving.

  How many had she had?

  In a panic she tried to count. Three glasses at least. Maybe four. Maybe even five – her glass had just kept being topped up. She'd stopped at some point – again, not because of her need to drive, but just because that was her habit too, she wasn't a big drinker. And she certainly didn't feel drunk now – she hadn't the whole evening. Except perhaps drunk on happiness and pride.

  "How many is the limit?" she asked. Now she sensed that her own voice sounded slurred.

  "Uh, it's like a large glass of wine for women?" Becky said, and sighed. "How many did you have?"

  Julia didn't answer.

  "Weren't you counting?"

  Still Julia didn't reply. She couldn't. It was as if a cloud of huge bats had invaded her brain, and they were wheeling and swirling and screeching inside her. It was a mistake. She didn't mean to do it. She hadn't realised. Would the police accept that? Surely they would? Of course they would!

  But a woman was dead!

  "You weren't drunk though!" Becky's voice sounded from a long distance away. "I wouldn't have got into the car with you if you had been."

  Julia sensed that she might faint. She rocked back on her heels, looked around for something to lean against.

  "It all seems so unfair," Becky went on.

  "Why? What do you mean by that?" Rob asked her.

  "I mean, everything that’s going to happen to Julia when we tell the police. She's not really drunk but they're not going to care, are they? Just ‘cos she's over their stupid limit. But it wasn't really her fault. You said it too. It was the stupid woman riding out here with no lights, this late at night."

  "She did have lights, they were dynamo..."

  "Yeah, but not proper ones. We couldn't see her, could we? And she swerved."

  "What?"

  "She swerved. I saw her, just before we hit. She swerved right out into the road. But that won't matter, will it? It'll still be all over the newspapers. Julia Ottley, the famous writer. How she was drunk-driving and killed some woman. It's just so unfair."

  Julia didn't hear any more, because her mouth was filling with vomit.

  Six

  She got nearly to the side of the road, and then retched, again and again, emptying the contents of her stomach onto the tarmac and the grass verge in the darkness.

  When she finally finished, she knelt, panting, one hand on the rough surface of the road trying to steady herself. Her cheeks were wet with tears. Her mouth tasted bitter.

  "Urgh," Rob said. "Maybe you're more drunk than we thought."

  "It'll help her a bit though, won't it?" Becky asked. "Getting it out of her system?"

  That thought had played no part in Julia's actions, but she listened now, suddenly almost hopeful.

  "I doubt it. It's already in her bloodstream, isn't it? That's what the police test for." Rob took another step back.

  "It does stink of booze, though.”

  To Julia, still with one hand pressed against the grit of the road, it felt as though a shift had taken place. Before they had been three people in a predicament, but now they were neatly divided. Now the young couple were mere observers, speculating on her fate. She suddenly felt more alone than she could ever remember.

  "I'm gonna go check out the car," Rob said. "In case we do decide to get help. You know, see if it actually still drives?" He walked away quickly. Becky hesitated a moment, as if she was wondering whether to comfort Julia again, but then she apparently thought better of it and followed him. Julia felt a sense of horror at being left alone near the dead woman, and she quickly pushed herself up to go, too.

  "It looks okay," Rob was saying when she got to the front of the car, where Rob was illuminated in the yellow glow from the headlights. "Maybe we should just go? I mean, we can't stay here all night."

  "I think we should," Becky replied. It was obvious from her voice that she wanted to get away now.

  Rob nodded. "Okay," he said. "What do we do with the body?"

  "What?" Becky sounded shocked. "What do you mean by that?"

  "I mean, what if someone does come along, but doesn't see it? It's right in the middle of the road. They might hit it."

  "Well, the woman's already dead."

  "Yeah. It still seems a bit wrong, though."

  This time Becky didn't answer him.

  "I guess we could move her a bit," Rob went on. "Just to the side, I mean. Just so that no one hits her."

  There was another pause.

  "If you're going to do that, you might as well move it a little bit further," Becky said.

  There was something in the way Becky spoke that made both Julia and Rob turn around and stare at her.

  "What do you mean by that?" Rob asked.

  "I just mean, if you're going to move it a little bit, you might as well move it right the way into the ditch."

  "What? Why?"

  "Because of how unfair it is," Becky said. "Because of what's going to happen to Julia if someone finds it now.” No one stopped her, so Becky went on.

  “I mean, here she is, about to become the most famous author – in like, the whole world, or at least in the country – and now none of that's going to happen. Just because this woman wanted to go cycling at midnight without any lights..."

  "She did have lights," Rob said, but it wasn’t enough to interrupt Becky’s flow.

  "And they probably won't even publish her book now. It's like, probably the best book there's been for years, and now none of that's going to happen, just because this woman had no lights on."

  "She did have lights," Rob said again.

  "Not very good ones," Becky answered at once.

  No one spoke for a long time. Julia could see Rob blinking in the moonlight, and she just watched him. It suddenly seemed incredibly important how he reacted to Becky's outburst.

  "All I’m saying is, if we put the woman just a little bit in the ditch, maybe no one will find her for a while, then maybe the police don't have to know that Julia was drinking," Becky added.

  “That’s all.”

  Still Rob didn't reply.

  "And then maybe Julia could go to the police tomorrow, and say that she thought she hit a deer, or something, but that she just wanted to be sure," Becky went on. "That way she wouldn't be doing anything wrong. The police would still find the lady..." Becky stopped. "I don't know..." She lapsed into silence.

>   "We could do that," Julia croaked. “I could do that.”

  She didn't know what had happened to her voice; it came out in barely a whisper. They both looked at Rob, who was now stroking his chin, as if deep in thought. Suddenly he stopped and glanced up and down the road. Nothing had changed. It was still empty and dark in both directions. A cloud passed in front of the moon, deepening the darkness. The headlights on the little Morris gave a flicker.

  "What about the sick?" Rob asked.

  "What?" said Becky.

  "The puke all over the road?"

  "What about it?"

  "Well if she thought she hit a deer – but didn't stop – then how come the road is covered in sick?"

  "They might not find it," Becky said.

  "Did you even smell it? And what? You think, with a dead woman lying in the ditch, they won't notice something like that?" Rob turned to Julia. "Did you get any on the woman?"

  "Any...?"

  "Any puke? Did you hit her with it?"

  Julia's first thought was to be insulted at the insolent tone he had decided was now appropriate. But she forced herself to think. To accept that he was helping her.

  "I'm not... I don't think so. I have a bottle of water in the car. Maybe we could wash it away?"

  Julia sensed a hesitation in Rob. “Maybe I could, I mean.”

  Both Julia and Becky turned to look at Rob again. He hesitated for a few moments but then nodded.

  "Yeah. I guess it might work. If you can get it all to the verge, they probably won't see it there as easily."

  But Julia didn't move. The thought of going back alone to where the woman lay dead on the ground was more than she could bear.

  "Could... Could one of you come with me? Maybe you could use your phones as a torch? So I can see what I'm doing."

  Neither Rob nor Becky looked keen, but after a few moments Becky muttered her agreement. Julia walked unsteadily around to the boot of her car and opened it. Inside, her wicker basket was still fixed in place with its elastic cord. She pulled out a large plastic bottle nearly full of water. She picked it up, and together with Becky she walked back to where she had been sick. The smell was quite strong, Julia had to agree.

  Working by the light from Becky’s phone, she took the lid from the bottle and poured the contents to wash the vomit from the surface of the road and onto the verge. Even with Becky holding her phone as a torch it was difficult to see clearly, but it certainly seemed as though it was less visible there. When the bottle was empty, Julia used the side of her foot to brush aside any water, or vomit, that remained.

  "At least you missed her," Becky said. Julia didn't reply – she seemed to have lost the power of speech. But she nodded.

  "I think we should just roll her into the ditch, and cover her up," Becky said. They were walking back to the car, where Rob was doing something with his mobile phone again. "Rob? I think we should just get rid of it. It makes sense. Otherwise Julia's whole life is going to be totally ruined, and it's not fair. When it's not her fault."

  Rob didn't immediately respond. He walked a few steps away from them, as if he needed space to think.

  "Rob?"

  He stayed silent for a long time. Then he stepped back and looked at Julia.

  "I heard someone talking about your book this evening," he began slowly. "They were saying that you're getting, like, over two million pounds for it. Is that right?"

  For Julia, the question was like a reminder of a life she had lived an age ago.

  "Yes," she replied.

  Rob didn't say anything more for the moment. He still had his phone in his grasp and he passed it from one hand to another.

  "And is that, like… dependent upon you... I don't know, not messing everything up? Like not drink-driving and killing someone?"

  Julia stared at him. "I'm not sure," she replied eventually. A note of sarcasm crept into her voice. As if, despite the horrific circumstances – and how much hope she was now pinning on him – Julia was tiring of how childish they were.

  "It wasn’t one of the contract terms that my lawyer talked me through."

  Rob didn't seem to notice the sarcasm. Instead he pressed the point.

  "But it's likely? Right? I mean, if you end up going to prison, it's likely that all this success that you've been going on about – that none of that would happen?"

  At his casual use of the word ‘prison’ Julia felt she might be sick again. The sarcasm vanished.

  "I don't know," she said in the end.

  There was a long silence. Eventually Becky broke it. "It's not really about the money, Rob. It's more to do with the book. If Julia does go to prison it will kill the book. They probably won't even publish it. Can you imagine if Jane Eyre had never been published? It's not just Julia who has to pay the price. The whole world would be poorer."

  Rob turned away out of the light, so that Julia wasn't able to see his reaction to this. He didn't reply for a while.

  "Did you get all the sick off?" Rob asked from the darkness, a moment later. "Was it on her?"

  Becky shook her head. "No, and it's all gone. You'd never know it was there."

  Rob moved back into the light. He was scowling now.

  "I’m going to take a look." He left them, and walked back to inspect for himself. Julia and Becky waited for him in silence. Now Julia felt awkward in Becky's presence. But Rob soon returned.

  "It's mostly gone," he said. "But we should still move her away. It might be more obvious in the light." He walked away again, this time over to the side of the road, still using his mobile phone as a torch. Julia watched the little cone of light move as he walked along the ditch. A little way beyond where they had stopped the car it intersected with another channel that ran perpendicular to the road and out into the field beyond.

  "It's much deeper here," he called back to them. "If we do it here we could make it look like she just cycled into the ditch."

  "Yeah! They'll probably never know there was a car involved anyway," Becky replied to him almost enthusiastically, leaving Julia alone and walking towards him.

  "We'd have to chuck the bike in as well," Rob went on. "Who touched it?"

  For a second Julia didn't know what he was talking about, then she realised he must be thinking about fingerprints. She looked down at her own hands, hidden beneath her leather driving gloves.

  "Becky. Go get the bike. Pull your sleeves down to cover your fingers, then wipe it all over. Then wheel it over here. Julia, come with me and we'll move her."

  Julia did what she was told, and followed Rob back to the figure lying in the road. The thought of lifting the body filled her with horror, but a sudden hope flushed it away. Might they have simply made a mistake? Might they discover that the woman was now moaning and trying to get to her feet? Was there another way out of this, even at this late stage?

  But as they approached the heap in the road and Julia listened carefully, there was nothing but silence. There was no movement, either. The hope was gone.

  "You take the feet end, it'll be lighter," Rob said. "And try not to drop her."

  He bent down and, turning his head away so as not to look too much, he gripped the woman by her wrists. He looked to Julia, who still hadn't moved.

  "Come on," he said. "I can't drag her, they'll see the scrape marks on her heels."

  For a moment she was frozen in the horror of what he was asking her to do, but she was afraid too of what might happen if she didn’t. In the end, she somehow parked her mind and did what she was told. She tried to hold the woman by her shoes, minimising the contact she had to have, but she realised just in time they would come off, so she braced herself and then wrapped her hands around the woman's ankles – they felt frail. Bony. At once Rob lifted his end, and, trying to keep the body level and rigid, Julia heaved the woman’s legs into the air too. Julia was surprised at how light she was.

  Now the emptiness of the road around them took on a different feel. Whereas before Julia had been praying to see the
lights of a car, now the thought of this scared her. The idea of being caught doing what they were now doing. What would they think? She began to rush. To get the body hidden and out of the way before anyone could see what they were doing. She was almost running.

  "Watch it!" Rob said. "I'm going backwards here."

  "Sorry."

  They drew level with the car, where Becky was busy rubbing at the frame of the bicycle with the bottom of her coat.

  "Over there," Rob directed them, and they went over to the side of the road. The place where they planned to dump the body was only about forty yards from where the accident had happened, and down a ditch that was perhaps three metres across and two metres deep.

  "You ready? We'll swing her in."

  They lined up beside the ditch and let the body swing between them, building momentum. It felt like Julia was only half-there. Only half-doing this thing. As if in an unlikely dream.

  "Now!" On Rob's command they both let go. The body flew sideways, hit the side of the ditch and tumbled the rest of the way down, splashing into the water at the bottom.

  Rob had put his mobile away to free up his hands. He pulled it out again now and switched on the torch.

  The woman's legs and feet had sunk out of view, and most of her stomach too, but her chest and head must have snagged on something as they stayed clear of the water. Her eyes were still open, and now her lips had pulled back too, showing her teeth. It almost looked like she had enjoyed the experience.

  "Shit," Rob said.

  "What?" Julia asked. "Did you think it would all go underwater?"

  "No it's not that. I just thought of something."

  Becky had arrived behind them now, pushing the bike before her.

  "Urgh, that's freaky."

  "I forgot something," said Rob. He sounded worried. "I gave her mouth-to-mouth. My DNA is gonna be all over her face."