Layla thrust Harvey’s ten pound note over the driver’s shoulder and opened the door, almost falling onto the pavement in her haste. The driver slammed the taxi into a rapid three-point turn and was gone, leaving her to run the rest of the way.
The front door of the house stood open, emitting a bright square of light. The atmosphere was highly charged. Unnatural. She tried to make the steps but her way was barred, deliberately – Helen, the girl who’d tried to reach her using Danni’s phone, had her hand firmly on Layla’s arm. Other girls crowded in, too. Layla scanned the pale faces. None of them belonged to Danni.
Where was she?
‘Danni? Danni!’ came from Layla’s throat as she tried to push her way towards the house. Once again, she was restrained.
‘Don’t, Layla. Don’t go near,’ Helen said.
‘Where is she? What’s happened? Oh God…’
Another round of sirens sounded. A second ambulance, let through the cordon by an officer in a high-viz jacket, pulled up behind the first, and Layla, along with Helen and a crowd of other party-goers, were ushered firmly aside by the same policeman.
‘Let me through! I’ve got to find Danni!’
Layla tried to resist the human barrier but more hands were upon her. A couple of male students she knew, as well as Helen and the other girls, surrounded her, preventing her from seeing. She found herself being half carried further along the street, away from the house. The doors of both ambulances were flung open now, spilling harsh light into the dark street.
‘Danni jumped out of the window,’ Helen said, her voice shaking.
‘What’re you talking about?’
Layla shook off the hands that held her, tried to break away so that she could get to the house and find Danni, but ran straight into the tall, broad figure of another police officer.
‘No, miss. You can’t go in there.’
‘I have to find my friend. You don’t understand…’
The officer shook his head. Layla turned, silently appealing to her friends for help. Nobody came forward. A hush had descended on the scattered groups. Stunned faces. All eyes trained on the house, high up, the top storey. Layla followed their line of sight. One of the tall windows was fully open, the casement pushed right the way up.
‘Danni fell out of the window? From up there?’
‘She didn’t fall,’ Helen said. ‘She jumped. With that bloke she was with. Art or something.’
Layla shook her head. ‘No. She couldn’t have. She was pissed, and a bit stoned, but not that much. You’ve got it wrong.’
‘She was really out of it, after you’d gone, Layla. She was acting really weird – we think he must have given her something else. She wouldn’t take any notice of us, so we took her phone off her and tried to get you. They were all over each other, her and that bloke. They went upstairs, for…well, obviously…and when they didn’t come back, we went up to see if she was all right. We couldn’t get in – they must have barricaded the door. We banged, but she shouted at us to go away. They were laughing, like, really laughing, going manic, and then there was a scream…and then nothing.’
A sob broke from Helen’s throat. ‘We couldn’t stop her. We couldn’t even get to her.’
Layla gazed around, bewildered. She could feel her mouth opening and closing but no sound came. She looked back at the gaping window.
No. This was madness. Something had gone badly wrong here, because whatever people were saying – and it wasn’t only Helen; she could hear the same words, being bandied around – they had all got it wrong. They were hammered, and they’d made a mistake. A rumour had started. Chinese whispers. Danni was here, somewhere, amongst the crowd. But, in that case, why couldn’t she find her? And why was Helen, as she could see now, holding Danni’s phone in its Barbie-pink case?
A flash of blue light from a police car seared Layla’s eyes, as she scanned the groups of students for any sign of her friend. Already she knew it was hopeless. Adrenaline surged through her. She felt its power, lifting her feet from the ground, sending her hurtling through the crowd, elbowing people aside, until she arrived in front of the house. Gripping the railings with both hands, she peered down into the dark well of the basement. Luminous jackets merged into one acid-yellow mass, preventing her from seeing properly. She was vaguely aware of another figure mounting the wall at the side. Then a camera – flash, flash, flash – each spurt of light adding one more piece to the scene.
Layla’s mind grabbed at the fragments crossing her vision, hustling them into a whole, like a tragic jigsaw puzzle. Two figures lay motionless on the concrete, heads turned aside, facing away from one another like lovers after an argument, but joined incongruously at the wrists by a pair of furry handcuffs.
One of them was Art.
The other was Danni.
Layla heard a deep, inhuman sound coming from somewhere. From inside her. A second later, or it might have been a lifetime, somebody led her away.
***
Layla woke with a start. Her eyes snapped into focus, taking in an unfamiliar room, a strange bed, an unusual amount of space around her. So much space she could reach out on either side and touch nothing. She seemed to be wearing just her knickers and bra. Her heart racing, she tried to sit up but her spine felt like rubber, her limbs as loose as wet sacks. And her head – what was wrong with her head?
Hangover. That must be it. A mother-and-father of a hangover. Water. She tried again to move, this time managing to haul herself into a sitting position. Shuffling across the expanse of white sheet, she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
And then she remembered.
Ambulances. Police. The open window above. The devastating scene below.
And after; a stranger’s coat round her shoulders. Tea. More police. Questions. A car ride. Lights – bright, harsh. Then dimness. A small, quiet room. A curtain drawn back. Pale hair, smoothed unnaturally away from her face.
‘Yes. It’s her. That’s Danni.’
The bedroom door opened, startling her afresh. ‘Ah, you’re awake.’
Layla stared at the familiar face. Familiar, but weirdly out of context. She began to shake. Every part of her quaked, from the tips of her fingers to her toes.
‘Hey, it’s all right, I’m here. It’s Judith, from last night. Remember?’
Last night. Of course. Judith, the university’s pastoral care tutor.
‘You came with me, to…’
It was coming back to her now. The shaking subsided. A mug of tea was set on the bedside table. It seemed very far away.
‘When you agreed to identify her, they sent for me. Try not to think about that any more now. Pop back into bed while you have your tea.’
Layla obeyed. Judith handed Layla the mug then sat down on the side of the bed and folded her hands in her lap.
‘What time is it?’
‘Twelvish. Midday.’
Midday? Layla looked at her wrist. She was wearing her silver bracelet but no watch.
‘Is this your house?’
‘Yes. It’s not far away from…where you were.’
‘Thank you,’ Layla said.
‘You’re welcome.’ Judith smiled.
Layla’s mind formed a question but she couldn’t quite catch hold of it, couldn’t quite bring to mind what it was she wanted to know. Her head felt so muddled. And then she knew what it was.
‘What happened to Art? They were together, he and Danni. Is he…?’
‘I’m afraid he died, too, in the early hours of this morning.’ Judith got up from the bed and glanced out of the window, between the half drawn curtains. ‘Drink your tea, there’s a good girl, and then we’ll sort you out.’
Layla drank a drop of tea, then put it down. She wanted to cry. She should be crying, sobbing her heart out. Instead, she felt numb, solid as a plank of wood. Judith was saying she should phone her parents and tell them what had happened. When Layla explained that there was only Mum now, Judith just nodded. April would have be
en there like a shot – Rowan, too, probably. But what was the point? There was nothing they could do that would make this any better. Nobody, nothing, could do that. They would want to take her home but she couldn’t leave. Not now. She couldn’t abandon Danni a second time. It was unthinkable.
She could tell that Judith thought she should go home, too, by the way she was speaking, while not voicing it directly. Without dismissing the tutor’s kindness, she needed to be out of here. She looked around for her clothes, and saw them neatly laid out on a chair in the corner. The jade green sleeveless dress with silver sparkles and the flimsy black shrug – her party outfit – looked incongruous in the light of day. Her black thin-heeled sandals were on the floor beneath the chair, next to her bag.
‘Take your time,’ Judith said kindly, then told her where the bathroom was, and left her to it.
Judith drove her back to her student house. The boys were out. All was silent. Layla trod carefully up the stairs, clutching the handrail. The door to Danni’s room was closed. If she trained her mind, concentrated really hard, she could make herself believe that Danni was sleeping behind that door, or at uni, working in the library, or… Yes, she could just about manage that – she had to, because there was no other possible direction for her thoughts.
In this dreamlike state of pretence, Layla shut herself in her own room, sat down at the desk by the window and sent a text message to Harvey. No pretence about that.
She waited. Unsurprisingly, her phone trilled. She heard his voice, hurt, disbelieving, strung through with damaged pride. Then her own voice, unemotional, flat, as if it came from a distance. I’m sorry, but it’s over… No, I’m not overreacting… I love you but I can’t be with you any more. I’m sorry.
Afterwards, she took off the dress and shrug, and stuffed them and the shoes in the bottom of the wardrobe, out of sight. She pulled on a pair of leggings and a jumper, then lay down on her bed and tried to cry. Willing the tears to come. Eventually, they did, and she cried as if she would never stop.
***
She had sometimes wondered, in a vague, half-serious kind of way, whether she shouldn’t have been so dismissive of the offers of support from the university counselling service, and the tutor who had scooped her up that night and taken care of her. Instead, she’d palmed them all off with a promise to seek help as soon as the exams were over. A promise she’d had no intention of keeping.
One thing only had been allowed to occupy her mind – her finals. Everything else had been firmly shut out. She had to do well, and come out of university with a decent degree. It was the only thing in the world that mattered. All there was left.
She got a First.
This is for you, Danni.
Chapter Thirty-One
Layla’s eyes were drawn to the wall above the round dining table. Her graduation picture was gone. In its place was a striking photograph of Danni, aged about seven or eight, standing on the middle bar of Foxleigh Farm’s entrance gate, wearing a green-and-white gingham dress and white knee-socks. She had a disarming grin, and funny, sticky-out plaits.
Melody noticed her looking. ‘That was taken on her first day at the junior school. We had it enlarged.’ Melody laughed. ‘She was so looking forward to being one of the “big girls”, wasn’t she, Reece?’
‘Yep. Couldn’t get there fast enough.’
‘It’s a great photo,’ Layla said. ‘I love it.’
It was a grey, wet Saturday morning, not long after ten – the earliest Layla had ever arrived at Foxleigh. But, as she’d explained on the phone, she’d be heading home this afternoon, if they didn’t mind, because she was on duty at the Manor tonight. Melody had merely said fine, in a way which showed that she meant it; there’d been no note of complaint in her voice. However, she had insisted they all sit down to a second breakfast the moment Layla arrived. So here they were, the three of them, with freshly-brewed coffee and golden croissants, warmed in the oven.
Layla had also said that she needed to talk to them, about something important. Now, seeing Melody so relaxed and Reece with his jokey avuncular manner in place, she wondered if this was, after all, the right time. But only for a moment. It had to be done. And it had to be today.
‘So,’ Reece said, dabbing a flake of pastry from the corner of his mouth, ‘it’s off to the US of A for you. New York had better watch out, that’s all I’m saying.’ He winked.
Again, the prickle of anxiety every time somebody mentioned New York. She’d had to tell them she was leaving. It was, after all, one of the reasons she’d come. To say goodbye.
She smiled. ‘I’m very lucky. It’s a great opportunity.’
‘It certainly is,’ Melody said. Then, ‘What did your mother say about it? She’ll really miss you, won’t she?’
‘Don’t put a damper on it, Mel,’ Reece said, but his conspiratorial grin at Layla removed any trace of remonstration.
‘Mum’s okay with it. She said it’ll be an excuse for her to hit New York for a big shopping trip.’ She laughed. ‘I expect she will, too. And my younger sister can’t wait to get her room back, so everyone’s happy.’
Nobody spoke for a minute. The rain lashed noisily at the window. Beyond, the branches of the trees rose and dipped in the wind. The distant hills sulked under a bank of purplish cloud.
Melody made a face towards the window. ‘What a dreadful day! You’d never believe it was August.’
‘In England, you would,’ Reece said.
Layla stopped thinking about her own feelings, and thought instead about theirs. The removal of the graduation photo, Melody’s determined cheerfulness, the easy way they’d brought Danni into the conversation – all the pointers of change were heartening, but there were no quick fixes. For any of them.
Melody turned to Layla. ‘We wish you all the luck in the world, with New York and the new job, and everything. Thank you for coming all the way here to tell us. It means a lot.’
‘Yes, yes, it does,’ Reece agreed.
‘Do you think,’ Layla said, after a moment, ‘we could go through to the other room?’
Melody and Reece exchanged looks. Layla felt a fraud. They’d thought she’d come to tell them she was leaving, and that was all. As if that wasn’t enough.
‘Yes, let’s.’ Melody was on her feet. ‘It’ll be more cheerful than out here.’
They went through and sat down, Layla on the yellow sofa next to Melody, Reece in the armchair. Melody reached behind her and switched on the lamp. ‘That’s better. Lamps on in the middle of summer! Whatever next?’
Reece was silent, looking down at his feet, his hands clasped in front of him. He knew there was something more to come. They both did. The problem was, Layla thought, where to begin.
‘I can’t believe it. I can’t believe that all this time you’ve been blaming yourself for what happened to Danni. Oh darling, don’t cry.’ Melody leaned towards her, putting both arms round her.
It would be so easy to let herself be held, to cry her heart out on Melody’s shoulder. But wrong. No more tears. She had to be strong. If ever there was a time when she had to be strong, this was it. Gently, she extricated herself.
‘I’m not crying, not really.’ She rubbed her eyes with the cuff of her cardigan. ‘There.’
After a moment, she said, ‘Why are you being kind to me? Why don’t you understand that what I did, running off to my boyfriend, leaving her in that state when I could see she was liable to do something stupid, was tantamount to, well…’ She wanted to say killing Danni, but they were chilling words, words that had no part to play in this, except inside her own head, where they belonged.
I killed Danni. It was me, all me.
She looked from one to the other. Melody, so upset on her behalf; Reece all at sea, confused, astounded. Both of them perplexed as to how this had come about. Both wanting desperately to lift the burden from her shoulders. Why couldn’t they accept what she was saying, rage at her, throw her bodily out of the house. Why?
&n
bsp; ‘Layla,’ Reece said. ‘Layla, look at me.’
She realised her head was bowed, her hands clasped to her face. Eventually, she looked up, but she couldn’t meet his gaze.
‘Layla.’
She looked, properly this time. And the sorrow and compassion she saw in his eyes almost floored her.
‘Our daughter was out of control, out of her mind, with alcohol and the drugs she’d taken. Even if you’d stayed at the party, there was nothing you could have done to save her, and I think, deep down, you know that.’
‘But…’
‘Even that boy she was with, Art something, even he wasn’t to blame. It all went too far, a wild moment, gone wrong. He died, too. How could we lay any blame at his door? No.’
Reece shook his head. He swallowed. His eyes told of a struggle going on inside. Beside Layla, Melody fidgeted, twisting her wedding ring round and round. Reece reached forward, took both of Layla’s hands in his.
‘If it was anyone’s fault, it was ours. Mine and Mel’s.’
‘Yours? What do you mean? How could it have been your fault, either of you? You weren’t even there.’
Layla gazed at Reece, appalled, confused. He let go of her hands and looked pointedly at Melody. ‘I think it’s time she knew.’
Melody gave a single nod. ‘Let me.’ She turned to Layla. ‘Layla, love, this might be hard for you to take in, after everything, but you’ve been honest with us and now we must be honest with you. You see, Danni was pregnant when she died.’
Pregnant? Layla stared at Melody.
‘No, she couldn’t have been. I would have known. She would have told me…’
‘It’s true, Layla,’ Reece said. ‘Our daughter was pregnant. Only a few weeks, but definitely pregnant – the post-mortem confirmed it. She’d made up her mind to have a termination. We had a right royal argument about it, the last weekend she came home. We wanted her to take her time, think it through properly, but she wouldn’t hear of it. We never thought it would be the last time we saw her.’
His voice had grown husky. He looked at Melody.
Never Coming Back: a tale of loss and new beginnings Page 21