The Wrong Turn

by NC Marshall

  “Thank you so much, Will.” I say and move away shakily from his hold. The dark sky flashes blue as two police cars rush by on the bridge, heading down towards the woods below. It’s only then that I realize that Connor Donovan’s car is nowhere in sight.

  “Where is he – Connor – did he get away?” I ask, moving to Will’s side.

  “No, he’s still in his car – looks like he’s unconscious.” he replies. I watch through a clearing in the trees as an ambulance quickly pulls up and a paramedic makes his way to Donovan’s overturned car.

  “How did he end up down there? He was hurtling towards me when I fainted!”

  “His brake lights came on, but he didn’t slow down very much, so he must have hit black ice,” replies Will. “We were behind him when it happened and I saw him go over the side.”

  I stare silently at the dark skid marks on the road, which disappear as a large gap opens up in the bridge’s barrier. It’s not far from where I had previously gone over. Another ambulance pulls up alongside and a paramedic makes her way over to us.

  “Everyone OK here?” she asks me, reassuringly.

  “Yes, my brother and I are fine,” I respond, with relief. Will catches my eye and gives me a wink. The paramedic nods in response before heading to a police car at the far side of the bridge, where officers are busy setting up road blocks.

  “It’s lucky for you that Morgan and Taylor had this figured out in record time.” Will points to a patrol car, where the pair are talking to other officers, before Morgan makes his way over.

  “As soon as they spoke to Eva they knew that Connor Donovan was behind this,” says Will.

  “I take it they came to find you and Elliott in Morteford today?”

  “Yeah. We honestly didn’t have a clue about Rick Donovan, I hope you believe me?”

  “Yes, of course I do!” I reply, adding “Is Elliott still in Morteford?”

  “No, he’s on his way now – he stayed behind to talk to Jack Dalton before following me here.”

  “The real Jack Dalton, you mean?”

  “Yeah, the real one! The poor guy didn’t have a clue what was going on when Elliott hammered on his door earlier today.”

  “All OK here then?” Morgan asks, in his thick Geordie accent. Taylor remains next to their car at the far side of the bridge.

  “Yes, thank you so much,” I say to Morgan, and hold out my hand towards him.

  “No problem Megan, we’re just doing our job.” Morgan smiles, gripping my hand and shaking it firmly.

  “I really thought my husband was still alive, but it was just Donovan’s son playing a cruel game. I can’t believe it was him all along.”

  “To be honest, we initially thought it was Johnny too.”

  Will’s eyes flick up and he tactfully moves away so that he’s out of earshot.

  “Really, why?” I ask Morgan. I’m aware that now isn’t the time or place that we should be having this conversation, but I’m intrigued to know the reason behind his initial suspicions.

  Morgan lowers his voice. “We found the gun that was used to kill Donovan, dumped not far from where the murder took place. It had Connor’s prints all over it, but it also showed traces of your husband’s fingerprints too.”

  “So what does that prove?”

  “Just that, when he was alive, Johnny had been in possession of that gun at some point. Prints remain for a long time if the item they’re on is well preserved.”

  I nod in acknowledgement, feeling slightly nauseous at the thought of what my husband may have been involved in; however, I’m not too shocked.

  “Do you know what the relationship was, between Johnny and Rick Donovan?” I ask, although I’m not convinced I want the sordid details, as, whatever it was, I’m sure it wouldn’t have been good.

  “We’re looking into that now, but the only link they may have had was that Johnny worked in the property business, so they could have met through that. Donovan had a long list of properties on his portfolio, before he was sent to prison, and he had many people working with him. It appears that your husband was one of them. At the time, we were aware of some, but not all, of the others.”

  I nod, understanding.

  “I’m sorry I can’t tell you more, Megan. The truth is that the extent of what Johnny was involved with will probably never be known, especially now that Johnny and Donovan are both dead.”

  “Connor told me that Johnny tipped the police off, before his dad was locked up for the last time?” I ask.

  Morgan nods as if he’s already guessed as much, “I remember it well – I was the one who arrested him that night.”

  “So it was definitely Connor who murdered his own father?”

  “Yes, he’s a dangerous man, just like his father, and it was a well-known fact that the two men did not get on. We didn’t realize just how dangerous Connor actually was until today and we intend to arrest him as soon as he’s able to talk.” Morgan’s deep voice is emotionless. It’s clear that there’s no love lost between him and the Donovans.

  I shake my head, the full force of today’s sickening revelations hitting me.

  “I lost track of the man Johnny was a long time before he passed away, Detective Morgan,” I mutter quietly.

  Morgan nods as if understanding the situation.

  “Connor broke into my house today and I think he might have taken something from a tin hidden under the floorboards. Johnny must have hidden it before he died because I had no idea it was there.”

  “He didn’t seem to be in possession of anything when we pulled him from his car, so my guess is there was money kept in that tin, which Connor must have known about.”

  “You’re telling me that all this was about money?”

  Morgan appeared slightly amused by my question, “I’ve seen worse done for less I’m afraid!”

  I shake my head and look across at Will standing a few metres away, blowing into his hands to keep warm.

  Morgan glances back behind him, where Taylor is now leaning against the bonnet of their car with her arms crossed, watching us.

  “What about Connor then?”

  “He’s on his way to hospital now and the paramedics report he sustained some fairly bad injuries from the drop, even maybe critical.”

  “Oh, OK.” I feel I should show more empathy towards Connor, but the guy broke into my house and tried to kill me – twice – so I can’t feel too guilty about my lack of humanity.

  “I’ll keep you updated and as soon as we have any more news on Connor, I’ll let you know,” confirmed Morgan.

  I nod my head, trying to remain strong.

  Morgan notices my unease, “Really don’t worry, Megan. If Connor Donovan does survive this, he’ll be going to prison for a long time.” He smiles reassuringly, says goodbye and heads back to DI Taylor, who gives me a wave before they both climb into their car and drive away.

  ***

  I end my call with Eva and adjust the scarf around my neck as it catches on the breeze. Folding my arms across me, I lean on the railings overlooking the river and taking a breath of icy cold air. I close my eyes and try to put the events of the last week out of my mind before going back through the revolving doors of the hotel.

  I couldn’t face going home tonight and, although I know I will have to do it at some point, at the moment I feel safer with Will and Elliott in the hotel. I understand that Connor Donovan won’t be coming after me again, however, that still doesn’t stop me feeling apprehensive about going home. I can’t rid the thought of him wandering around my house, and I do wonder if today was the first time he’d been there.

  Shuddering, I try to push the image of his face to the back of my mind as I pull open the glass doors to the hotel’s large bar area, and make my way over to Will; he’s sitting at the window overlooking the Millennium Bridge beyond.

  I pull up a chair opposite him and, as he slides a small glass containing brandy in front of me, I scrunch up my nose in disgust.

  �
�I don’t like brandy!” I say, as I push the glass away.

  “Just drink it Meg, it will help with the nerves,” he orders, sternly, forcing the glass into my hand. He’s obviously comfortable with giving orders and is not used to ‘no’ – for the first time since we met, I notice how similar we are.

  I do as my brother tells me, sipping the foul-tasting liquid before placing my glass back on the table.

  “When’s Elliott due to arrive?” I ask. Will glances at his watch and gives me a cheeky grin. I realize it’s the fourth time in an hour that I’ve asked him that question.

  “Is my company not good enough for you?” Will jokes.

  “It’s not that! It’s been really nice chatting with you tonight Will, it’s just…”

  “It’s alright,” Will smiles. “I’m only joking and you don’t need to explain.” He rolls up his jumper sleeve and glances at his watch. “He should be with us any moment now,” he answers, before picking up his pint of Carling and taking a quick sip.

  “How are you feeling now?” he adds.

  “Oh I’m OK, I think, still a bit shaken, but that’s as much about discovering Johnny’s secret past, as knowing Connor was trying to kill me today. It’s a lot to take in!”

  Will nods, “Yeah, must have been a shock to find out that the man you were married to wasn’t the person you thought he was.”

  “I sort of knew to be honest – I just didn’t want to admit it to myself at the time. I only really started questioning things once Johnny had died.”

  Will nods in acknowledgement. The door to the hotel bar suddenly opens and Elliott rushes in. He spots us straightaway and, within seconds, I’m in his arms.

  Will clears his throat, which forces Elliott to gently pull away from me.

  “Sorry mate, forgot you were there!” He smirks, pulling up a chair next to Will.

  “Are you OK?” he asks, with concern. I sigh, pretty tired of people asking me the same question.

  “Yes, Elliott I’m fine, well I am now anyway!” I point at Will, “Thankfully this one has a tendency to be in the right place at the right time.”

  “Oh yes, he’s a regular guardian angel!” replies Elliott, punching his friend playfully on the arm.

  “He certainly is,” I agree. I take another sip of brandy and finally start to relax a little. “It was like déjà vu, him pulling me out of the car again today.”

  I smile at Elliott, and turn to Will, who now looks a little confused.

  “How do you mean?” he asks.

  “You! Lifting me from the car that night I came off the bridge, and doing it again tonight.”

  Will glances at Elliott, and then back to me, the confusion on his face more pronounced.

  “Erm, Meg – I lifted you from the car earlier, but on the night of the crash I found you barely conscious, on the ground in the woods. I definitely didn’t pull you from the car then!”

  “Don’t be silly!” I look first at Elliott and then at Will, waiting for one of them to laugh and admit that Will was pulling my leg; neither of them flinch. “Will?!” I let out a nervous laugh. “You reached over, undid my seatbelt, lifted me out and pulled me away from the car. You placed me on the ground while you took off your coat to put around me.”

  “Seriously, I’m not joking, Meg!” Will’s tone turns serious. “I checked the wreckage of the car but you weren’t inside and, as I was on my way back to the road, I saw you lying on the ground under a tree. I just presumed you’d managed to drag yourself out, but I promise you, I did not pull you from the car.”

  Open mouthed I stare at Will.

  “But, but…you burnt your hand.” I point to his left hand, still bandaged.

  “No, I did this a couple of days before – caught it on a rogue piece of glass in the apartment, back in Morteford.” He pulls up the dressing to reveal a deep cut in his palm.

  By now I’m rendered speechless and I stare at Will, one question dominating my thoughts.

  If he really didn’t pull me from the car that night, then who did?

  Chapter 41

  Connor’s injuries had been severe and, after a week fighting for his life in hospital, he slipped into a coma from which he didn’t wake. After hearing this information, I decided to relocate to Morteford.

  I still regularly think about that night on the bridge, and I find it ironic that the same death that Connor had planned for me, resulted in his own. His car had fallen the same distance as mine, but Connor wasn’t as lucky. Sometimes, I did wish I had some compassion, but I still feel no pity for him, and I have no real idea why he wanted me dead! I probably never will.

  I did believe him though, the moment on the bridge when he told me that Johnny wasn’t the man I thought he was. I can only imagine the sorts of crimes him and the Donovans were involved with.

  I could probably push to find out the details of the crimes, but I really don’t want to know. I was told that files on Donovan, held by the police, go back decades. At the time, although I didn’t admit it, I always knew that things weren’t adding up where Johnny was concerned. I never questioned where he was, what he was doing or where all the money was coming from.

  A fresh start was exactly what I needed so I’d handed my notice in and now work part time in Will and Elliott’s office in Fadstow, which I love; helping them with the admin for their increasingly popular and ever-expanding business. The home I had once cherished became nothing more than an emotionless museum, housing all the things that Johnny had purchased, probably with blood money. I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, be part of that once I knew even a fraction of the truth.

  I had far too many ghosts in my past, but a new, bright and exciting future awaits me and I can’t wait!

  The water of the estuary glistens under the warm summer sun as I shift my weight on the wooden bench and smile out to the water. As an elderly couple walks past and my smile widens, I hear footsteps, and a warm hand reaches from behind to touch my face.

  “Your lunch, madame!” Elliott declares, as he hands me a package of freshly cooked fish and chips and sits down next to me. I kiss him on the cheek as he places a warm hand against my stomach.

  “You really shouldn’t be eating this sort of stuff sweetheart,” he says, grinning and rubbing his hand gently across my ever-growing bump. Our first child is due in Autumn and we couldn’t be happier.

  Another hand reaches over to grab a chip and I playfully slap it away before Will sits down on the other side of the bench. It turns out that discovering I have another brother has been a brilliant addition to my life and, moving here to be with Elliott, has brought Will and I even closer. I honestly couldn’t imagine my life without him now.

  We travel back to the North East regularly to see Dad and Luke, or they sometimes come and visit us. It’s lovely to see the men in my life building a natural bond which grows stronger and tighter as the time goes on.

  Eva also comes over every other weekend to stay and has recently started a relationship with the real Jack Dalton!

  Sadly, Will lost his dad, Alf, a few months ago when he finally lost his battle against the illness. Although I know he will always look at him as his real dad, and rightfully so, it’s lovely to see him developing a relationship with his biological father. My dad, although shocked when he first discovered he had another son, has now fully accepted Will into the family with open arms – I always knew he would.

  The three of us laugh and joke as the summer sun creeps higher into the sky and, as we chat, Elliott reaches out and takes my hand in his. I’m the happiest and most content I have ever been and am unbelievably excited about what the future will bring.

  Epilogue

  In the distance, high on a hill overlooking the shimmering waters of Morteford, a man lights a cigarette and watches as the smoke rises gently into the warm, early summer air. Below him, the woman he once loved is sharing her lunch with the man she will marry, and her stomach swells with their unborn child. An inner glow shines radiantly in her eyes, something
he’s not seen before…

  Unable to walk away, he watches her for a long time. The Donovans had discovered he was still alive and would have stopped at nothing to seek their revenge, but it’s all over now. The job is done, his time is up, and he needs to move on.

  Stubbing out the cigarette, he looks down at his left hand. The scars from the fire will forever be a constant reminder of her and, although over time they will fade, his memories never will. He carefully removes the gold wedding band from his finger and runs his fingertip over the carved inscription inside, gently tracing her initials alongside the ones he used to own.

  He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a passport, displaying his photo and new name, along with a large sum of cash that he’d kept hidden, with a gun, in a tin under the floorboards of his old home. He knows that it won’t be long until the truth is discovered and, therefore, it’s time to leave her behind.

  He pauses to reflect that the person he once was hadn’t existed for a very long time, and he briefly wonders if that person was ever truly him? As so many other people do in life, he’d simply taken the wrong turn and would forever pay the price for the things he’d done.

  He glances down at the small, gold ring in the palm of his hand, which had once held so many promises that, even then, he knew he would be unable to keep. It glints in the strengthening rays of the sun, the metal turning warm against his skin.

  Without any hesitation, he clenches his hand into a fist, reaches behind his head and throws the ring into the water, taking one final glance down at her before reluctantly turning and walking away forever.

  Pulling on a pair of shades, he soaks up the heat of the sun on his bare arms and looks forward to more of the same when he reaches his destination and a new life.

  He heads quickly down the hill on the other side of the estuary, the weight upon his shoulders now starting to ease, and an appreciative smile curling at the corner of his lips.