The Wrong Turn

by NC Marshall

  Grabbing a quick shower to wake herself up, she threw on a pair of skinny jeans and an oversized jumper, and searched for a hairdryer. After a few frenzied moments of pulling open every drawer and cupboard in the room, she came to the conclusion that she’d have to do without, so, giving her long hair a quick towel dry, she left the room and headed for the nearest lift.

  The hotel was a decent one actually – far better than some of the hovels she and Tony had stayed in on the rare occasion they were away from base. She knew that Tony’s old boss, Joe Emery, had a lot to do with it, like when he’d pulled strings to grant permission for her and Tony to work in Newcastle. She also suspected that he had helped foot the bill for their stay. She could tell that Emery wanted Tony back in Newcastle on a more permanent basis, and to convince him to return, bribery was the first card he pulled from his pack!

  Tony was already seated at a table when Charlotte arrived at the restaurant. He had his mobile in his hand and, although she liked to believe he was having some chill time with a game or a brain teaser, she knew whatever he was doing would be work related and that even if he did fancy playing a game to pass the time, he was totally incapable of downloading one! A self-confessed technophobe, Tony had only recently given in to modern technology by finally owning an iPhone, thereby dragging himself kicking and screaming into the 21st century.

  “Hi honey, you miss me?” she asked, pulling up a chair and wasting no time in studying the nearest menu.

  “Oh these 40 minutes apart have been excruciating!” exclaimed Tony, not even glancing up from his mobile.

  “You ordered yet?”

  “No, I thought I’d be a gent and wait for you, although I could eat the table cloth I’m so bloody hungry!” Tony glanced up from his phone. “Christ almighty, what have you come as? Has there been a flood in your room?”

  “Ha-ha, you’re hilarious!” Charlotte ruffled her damp hair. “There’s no hairdryer in my room – what sort of 4-star hotel doesn’t have a hairdryer these days?”

  “Quite a few, actually,” replied Tony, matter-of-factly, before picking up a second menu. His eyes trailed over the trendy and overpriced options. Nearly 15 quid for a burger?! All he really wanted was a home-cooked roast, but he knew he would have no luck getting that until he arrived home. Liv made the best roast beef and Yorkshire puddings he had ever tasted, and no restaurant food, however swanky, would come close.

  “Hell of a day, eh?” asked Charlotte.

  Tony snapped the menu shut after hardly looking at it.

  “Yep.”

  A waitress appeared, casually flirting with Tony as she took their order, and Charlotte wanted to tell the poor girl that she was wasting her time. Tony was strictly a one-woman man, and the love he and his wife had for each other was pretty nauseating most of the time. Instead, she chose to sit back and watch as the waitress mildly humiliated herself in front of a man completely oblivious to her advances.

  Not that Charlotte had ever tried her luck with Tony. Even if he hadn’t been married when they met, she knew where she stood from day one, and, although a decent enough looking guy, he was far too powerful a presence for her. She liked to be in control in a relationship and she knew that would never be the case with Tony, however, even though technically speaking he was her boss, they saw each other as equals, and their relationship had always, and would always, be purely platonic.

  “Come on Char, what you having?”

  Charlotte snapped back into action and looked up at the waitress.

  “Sorry, I’ll have the steak, medium rare, with chips, and a very large vodka and tonic please.” She closed her menu and smiled at Tony, who returned a less-than-impressed look.

  “Coke, I’ll have a Coke.” She amended her order under her boss’ glare. Tony shook his head and chuckled, before ordering a lemonade and a chicken curry.

  “Have you spoken to Megan Cooper again yet?” Charlotte asked. They had managed almost 15 minutes before the conversation turned to work; actually a personal best for them!

  “I called her earlier – she gets back tomorrow afternoon so we can go and see her then,” Tony replied.

  The waitress returned, first placing Tony’s drink down before flashing him a smile through newly glossed lips.

  “Cheers!” he said to the waitress, and without a second glance, plucked the slice of lime from his drink, throwing it clumsily into Charlotte’s glass.

  Charlotte ignored what, in Tony’s world, would be a gallant gesture.

  “Where’s she been then?”

  “I spoke to her brother, Luke, this morning. He told me she’d gone down to Morteford for the weekend, with her sister-in-law.”

  “Morteford? Why, what’s there?”

  Tony shrugged. “Beats me! I told her to call us as soon as she gets home.”

  Charlotte nodded.

  “I’m surprised she wants to go anywhere so soon after that horrible crash.” She picked up her Coke and took a sip through the copious amount of floating citrus fruit.

  “Me too,” replied Tony. “Although I suppose she just wanted to get away from it all for a bit and in a way I can see where she’s coming from.”

  “Yeah, maybe. It’s nice to get away and recharge the batteries sometimes – I can’t remember when I last did that.”

  Tony placed his mobile on the table. A picture of his wife and kids was displayed on its screensaver. His daughter had his dark eyes, his son the same delicate features as his wife, Olivia. Tony’s eyes lingered on their faces until the screen went dark.

  “No, me neither Charlotte.”

  ***

  They were finishing their meals when his phone vibrated its way across the table, and he pounced on it with lightning-quick reflexes. Charlotte pulled her still-damp hair into a ponytail and secured it with a band, calling the waitress over for the bill. She knew that any call at this time in the evening was usually attached to a work-related matter, rather than Tony’s wife calling to feed him the latest update from the Morgan clan.

  “DCI Morgan. Hi Joe… yep… no problem, we're on our way – be there in 20.”

  Charlotte picked up a napkin and dabbed the side of her mouth, then reached for her handbag as Tony drained the last of his lemonade and set his empty glass down.

  “Emery’s called us in.”

  “I guessed that bit Tony, what’s up?”

  “Rick Donovan’s finally started talking.”

  “At last!”

  Tony made his way out of the restaurant, across the hotel lobby, and out of the revolving doors. Jogging down the hotel steps, he stopped to wait for Charlotte to catch up after she’d gone to retrieve her coat; a sensible move on her part. Wearing only a thin t-shirt, Tony was already feeling numb.

  Charlotte made her way to where he was casually leaning against some railings with his back to the quayside – the mysterious waters of the River Tyne and its notorious bridges boasting their full splendor behind him. Although Tony had seen Newcastle many times, and it no longer had a profound effect on him, Charlotte appreciated the view, slowing her pace slightly to absorb the atmosphere. The quayside was bustling and alive with people beginning their Saturday nights in the many pubs and restaurants that the city had to offer.

  Making their way along the quayside towards the car park, Charlotte fastened her coat and loosened her now almost-dry hair. A group of half-drunk men, seemingly on a stag do and dressed as ballerinas, wolf whistled as she passed. Tony stopped abruptly and, as they continued along the path muttering laddish obscenities to each other, he shot them down with a potent stare. The men were instantly quiet!

  Tony didn’t look like a stereotypical DCI tonight. Dressed in casual jeans and a t-shirt, which revealed the tip of a large tattoo covering the whole of his left shoulder, he appeared like any other local bloke. Nevertheless, there was something about his presence that silently encouraged other men to back down.

  Charlotte grinned and picked up her pace towards him. She knew that Tony was fully aw
are of her ability to handle a group of rowdy, drunk men, and he’d witnessed her doing so on many occasions, but it was still nice to know that he had her back.

  Reaching the car, they climbed in and Tony started the ignition. Charlotte switched on the radio, settling back in her seat as the sound of Ed Sheeran flooded the small space. Soon, they were back on the road heading away from the quayside, and up towards the headquarters on the perimeter of the city, where Rick Donovan was hopefully waiting to break his silence.

  Chapter 17

  Will and I head back along the promenade, taking the same route as I had used to get to the museum. He shivers and pulls up the hood of his windbreaker, before lowering his chin into his zipped-up collar and bowing his head to the ground. It’s dark now, and the temperature has plunged, largely due to the clear sky. Pitch black above us, its endless blanket is studded with a thousand stars. The streets of Morteford are now entirely deserted and a thin layer of frost is beginning to emerge, shimmering like glitter under the white glow of street lamps lining the waterfront promenade.

  Will continues to chat and I listen intently as we continue the short walk back to my cottage. He tells me a little about Morteford’s history, which is intriguing, as I had guessed it would be. We pause only briefly when Will stops to point out the small local docks in the distance, and his eyes light up as he tells me about his dad’s boat that is moored there. It’s clear to me that his father means the world to him and, when he continues to tell me more about the state of his health, it's easy to see why.

  As we get closer to the cottage I begin to feel a little shaky and pick up my pace. I start to feel lightheaded as soon as we reach the corner of where the cottage is based, and find myself wondering if coming here really was a good idea after all. Maybe, despite thinking I was fine following the accident, I wasn’t back to normal yet and, perhaps, I should have listened to Luke and Dad and spent more time recuperating at home.

  “Are you alright, Megan?” asks Will, as we finally reach the cottage door.

  “Yes, I’m OK I think, just feeling a little queasy.” I clutch my stomach.

  “You look very pale,” he replies, and even though he’s trying to hide it, I detect a concerned tone.

  “I probably just need something to eat and a good night’s sleep.”

  Will smiles.

  “Well, look after yourself, Megan – it was nice chatting to you today.” He starts to move away.

  “Yes, you too Will.” I turn away from him, retrieve the key from my pocket and, as I move towards the door, my vision blurs and my head starts to swim. Before I know it, I hit the ground. Will is instantly at my side, lifting me from the cold pavement and towards the door, as I pass out.

  ***

  A soothing warmth hits my face as I wake up. It takes a few moments to realize that I’m lying on the sofa in the living room, and Will is on a chair next to me.

  “Hi there,” he leans forward and rests his hands on his knees.

  “I’m so sorry Will, I don’t know what happened.” I exclaim, as I sit up, too quickly.

  “Hey, take it easy, you blacked out, that’s all,” replies Will, calmly.

  “For how long?”

  “Only a few minutes. I hope you don’t mind me bringing you inside – you had the key in your hand.”

  “No, not at all.” I glance at the fire in front of me, crackling as it slowly builds and increases the diminished light in the room.

  “It was freezing in here, so I thought I’d light it for you,” offers Will, following my line of vision.

  I nod back, gratefully. “Thank you!”

  “Do you want me to call a doctor?” Will rises to his feet and pulls his mobile from his pocket.

  “No, honestly, I’m fine. I’m prone to these blackouts – I’ve been having them since…”

  I hesitate before continuing, “…since my husband passed away.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Will looks down at the floor uncomfortably, “I didn’t know.”

  “Don’t worry, why would you?”

  “When was it?”

  “14 months ago.” Tears threaten to form, but I force them away, like I always do when I tell anyone about Johnny’s death. “He drowned whilst trying to save his sister, Eva, the friend I’m here with.”

  Will doesn’t say anything, just nods slightly in response.

  “Anyway, like I say, I’m used to them. They sometimes happen if I haven’t had much to eat actually.”

  I stand up and compose myself.

  “Would you like a drink or anything?” I ask. I shake off the dizziness and head towards the kitchen in search of a distraction.

  “Yes please, if that’s OK – I’ve texted Elliott to tell him I’ll see him tomorrow.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry Will! You have plans tonight, don’t you?” I pop my head back round the door.

  “Not now I don’t,” he snaps his phone case shut, and smiles.

  I smile in return.

  “We have tea, coffee, beer…” I shout as I move into the small kitchen and open the fridge door.

  “A beer please!” shouts Will from the living room. “It is Saturday night after all!”

  I return with a bottle in one hand, and a glass of red wine in the other. It’s probably not the most sensible thing to have after what’s just happened, but I need to calm my nervousness, not only regarding Detective Morgan being back in touch, but also about having a drink with a stranger in my cottage!

  “Eva brought some supplies with us,” I laugh, “there’s absolutely no food in the fridge, but enough alcohol to sink a ship.”

  Will chuckles, “Girl after my own heart then!”

  “Actually, I thought Eva would be back by now,” I say, glancing at my watch.

  “I think I heard your phone alert while you were unconscious,” replies Will, nodding to my handbag resting on the coffee table. He takes a sip from the bottle.

  I place my wine down, retrieve the phone from my bag, and read out a text message from Eva.

  “Going better than I thought so I might be back a little later tonight. Really sorry Meg! I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, E xoxo.”

  “Oh, well done Jack!” replies Will, raising his bottle in a silent toast.

  I smile and quickly respond, telling her to relax and enjoy herself. Eva’s been through a terrible time too. Not only has she lost her twin brother, who she adored, but she has to deal with the constant guilt that Johnny’s death was her fault and, no matter how many times people tell her that it was nothing more than a tragic accident, I doubt that she will ever be able to forgive herself.

  As my closest friend, she deserves to start enjoying herself again, and rebuild her life. As do I.

  “How are you feeling now?” asks Will, taking another sip from his bottle.

  “Much better, thanks.” I drag my fingers through my windswept hair and rub my eyes. God, I must look a sight.

  “You look great!” says Will sheepishly, as if reading my mind.

  Something about him makes me feel at ease and, after an initial, slightly awkward introduction this morning, I now see that he is a decent guy who I can genuinely say I’ve enjoyed spending time with.

  ***

  We spend the next couple of hours just chatting. I order a pizza from the neighbouring town and, as we tuck in, we laugh and talk about ourselves, like we’ve been friends for years. At 10.30 pm, Will places his fifth empty bottle on the floor and gets to his feet.

  “Well I’d better get going, before your friend gets back,” he says, reaching for his jacket.

  “Yes. It was really nice chatting with you, Will.” I say cheerily, standing to face him. I suddenly feel the happiest I can remember in a very long time, and I can’t decide if it’s a result of spending time with Will, or the almost-empty bottle of wine, which sits on the floor.

  “Thank you, again, for rescuing me, and for helping me out earlier, too.”

  I reach up to give him a peck on the cheek and, as I
pull away, he rests his hand on my hip and our eyes meet. Heat from the open fire blazes against my skin, his eyes are flecked orange from the open flames and then, suddenly, he kisses me. It’s just a peck at first, but then develops and, although I can’t deny that it feels incredible, it also somehow feels wrong. I haven’t been this close to a man since I lost Johnny, and I instantly feel guilty, so pull away to create a space between us.

  “Goodnight, Will.”

  He takes the hint and heads to the front door, looking as guilt-ridden as I feel.

  “Goodnight, Megan. Look after yourself.”

  I hear the door close, but less than a minute later, Eva bursts through it.

  “Who was that man I just saw leaving?” she questions, her eyes wide as she races to the window and watches Will disappear round the corner of the street. She slowly turns and stares back at me, with a huge, shocked smile on her face. “Oh Meg…. is that who I think it is?”

  “Who?” I ask, smiling innocently. My heart’s still racing from the kiss, and my cheeks are on fire.

  Eva raises her eyebrows, “You know who – Will Travers!”

  “Yes! I bumped into him this afternoon and then had one of my funny turns – he helped me…again,” I reply, as casually as I can. Eva still has a huge grin on her face. It’s clear that she wants more detail, but soon realizes that I don’t want to divulge, so she swiftly changes the subject to her afternoon spent with Jack. I settle back on the sofa and try to absorb what she’s telling me, fighting the urge to race past her, out the door and after Will.

  Later, when I’m lying in bed, my mind is racing and won’t let me rest. I think about Will, and Johnny. As always, I curl up on the right side of the bed and allow myself the belief that there is a heavy arm, reassuringly draped over me. However, tonight, I question whose touch I want to feel.

  An hour or so later, exhaustion takes over and I finally drift off to sleep, sinking into the same dream I have had almost every night for the past week, where I am being rescued from a burning car by a gorgeous stranger.