Either Side of Midnight

by Tori de Clare

  ‘What?’ Dan couldn’t say anymore. He could barely see.

  ‘I’ve got a balaclava in my room, and a gun. It isn’t loaded. It’s just for show to shut her up if you need to. The pro will have the loaded gun, with a silencer. Aim and fire. Simple. And don’t forget to introduce yourself to her first. Her face should be a picture. In fact, have a camera ready.’

  Dan stared at Nathan, but could only see his outline. ‘What the hell have you told her about me?’

  Nathan laughed and calmly strode off to his room, while Dan doubled up, lowering his head, gasping for air, fighting the urge to vomit with the smell of cookie dough ice cream too close.

  <><><>

  So here Dan was on the morning of the wedding in the wake of a bright dawn, exhausted, fearful, the heaviness in his chest a constant reminder that so much was at stake. He didn’t want to get up and acknowledge that the dreadful day was beginning. Staying in bed, eyes fixed on the opposite wall behind which Nathan was sleeping, held it at bay. His revised plan was so full of risk and danger, his heart trembled whenever he went over it. It could backfire. He daren’t think about it. He daren’t not. Must it happen at all, this crazy wedding?

  Daylight fuelled Dan’s limbs until he twitched with restlessness. All week he’d planned how to save Naomi without properly questioning the insensibility of it all. Pumped with emotion and resenting the fact that he hadn’t heard Nathan stir all night, he found himself bouncing out of bed and heading for Nathan’s room. His only plan was to make Nathan see the insanity. His legs moved purposefully forward and only faltered outside Nathan’s room. He closed his eyes and landed two clear taps on the door.

  The bed creaked. Nathan was conscious. Dan opened the door and caught sight of a dark suit hanging from the curtain pole where weak light was finding a way in.

  Nathan looked round, facing Dan framed by the doorway. Nathan squinted at him without sitting up. His voice was croaky. ‘S’up, Dan?’

  ‘Don’t . . . ’ he stopped. His throat constricted; his voice shook with the effort of speaking. He swallowed. ‘Don’t do it. Back out. Break her heart.’ Nathan stared, blinked some more, looked as if he was struggling to know what day it was. ‘Take the car. Rob the house if you must while it’s empty, but don’t go ahead. It’s madness –’

  ‘Hell, Dan. House won’t be empty if there’s no wedding.’ Nathan turned his back on him angrily. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Ten to seven.’

  ‘Wedding’s not till three.’

  ‘Time to undo it.’

  Dan waited for a reply and wondered if Nathan had drifted.

  ‘You’re worrying me, Danny,’ Nathan eventually said, almost in a whisper. ‘If I can’t trust you –’

  ‘Trust me? You betrayed and blackmailed me and hung me out to dry. This isn’t about me or you, it’s about crime and murder, Nathan. Use your head.’

  ‘I have – and constructed the perfect plan.’

  ‘It isn’t perfect, it’s evil. Back out.’

  Nathan unearthed himself suddenly and flung the covers back. ‘You don’t understand these people. They’re the evil ones, Dan. If not her neck, it would be mine.’

  ‘Run then. Take the money this morning and disappear. Make sure they never find you.’

  There was no hint of indecision. ‘The cheque hasn’t cleared yet so there is no money. Anyway, I’ve built myself up to this, Dan. Earned it. It’s been brewing for a year. By next week, I’ll be famous. And rich. And free. I’m looking forward to it.’

  Dan dropped his head. Trying to reason with Nathan was hopeless. Futile.

  Nathan carried on. ‘Accidents, you know, they happen. Tragic. At least she’ll have had a blissful week of marriage first. The press will love it. It’ll sell. People will talk about it for a few days then forget. I’ll slip into the background, broken. Lorie and I will find comfort in each other. I’ll gradually restart my life. I’ll ring Camilla now and again for old times’ sake.’

  ‘What if they want their money back?’

  ‘You reckon they’ll be thinking about money with their daughter gone? Henry was clear when he handed it over that it isn’t theirs anymore. I’m telling you, Camilla looked relieved to see the back of it. Weird, or what?’

  ‘You’re a lunatic. I’m ashamed to call you my brother.’

  ‘Whereas I’m proud of you for keeping a cool head so far.’ For the first time, Nathan came close to smiling. His voice was infuriatingly composed, which disarmed Dan completely. ‘I’m just a person in trouble with a brilliant plan, is all, Daniel. And it’s almost over. So if you intend to back out, say now.’

  Dan’s hands were trembling. His legs were unsteady. ‘There is no backing out. You’ve made sure of it. So I’ll be in the car park, Nathan, and I’ll make sure she isn’t violently hurt on the way to her grave. I’ll make sure her death is quick and painless.’

  ‘Whatever turns you on.’ Nathan was watching him carefully, as if he was weighing up his suitability for the job. Nausea stirred in the pit of Dan’s empty stomach and the feeling rose, but he didn’t deflect his eyes.

  ‘If we’re done, I could do with tweaking my speech,’ Nathan added, yawning, ‘the one that thanks my in-laws for all their support and generosity and thanks my wife for being born and agreeing to spend the rest of her life with me, which is about the point I turn my attention to the chief bridesmaid and how stunning she looks.’ This reference to Lorie made him smile openly and wipe the sleep from his eyes. He’d stopped looking at Dan with suspicion at least.

  Dan stared helplessly. ‘Aren’t you the tiniest bit anxious this could go badly wrong?’

  Nathan’s eyebrows sunk for a second, then bounced back. ‘No.’ He paused to noisily scratch his crotch under the covers. ‘See, there’s a backup plan for every stage except Lorie passing for Naomi at passport control. What are the chances of them looking at her properly? Have you ever noticed those guys, eyes numbed by hours of looking at little books and a thousand faces that look alike? I could probably pass for her myself.’

  Nathan settled down again. Dan closed the door and found his legs taking him to the sofa where he crashed down. He swallowed the sickness away and forced himself to confront the fact that he needed to prepare. A grave had been selected in a sheltered spot on the edge of a large batch of graves beside a row of trees. A rough diagram of how to reach it had been passed to him, along with the details on the gravestone. He had the day to plan the route and visit the cemetery in north Manchester. After dark when the gates were locked, entrance, he was told, could be made over a short wall through a broken railing. The diagram showed the route in red arrows from the road through the railings, to the grave.

  Nathan volunteering Dan to do the shooting had been an advantage. Dan would take the gun. It would be dark. He’d position himself so he could put the bullet elsewhere. He’d need blood and distraction tactics so the guy wouldn’t closely scrutinise the wound. He’d read enough to know that bullets make neat entries and messy exits. The drug he’d give Naomi would pull her pulse right down. Thinking about it brought on palpitations. He’d take beta blockers to dull the shakes and deceive his nervous system that he was preparing for neither flight nor fight when he could face both. Composure was essential when failure wasn’t an option.

  <><><>

  Naomi awoke to a bright morning , an endorsement if she needed one that even nature was smiling down. Why wouldn’t it? She’d kept her side of the bargain with God, thanks to Nathan. He’d produced heroic self-control.

  Lorie was in the room next door with her bridesmaid’s dress. They’d chosen it together, a romantic white A-line gown in chiffon, only knee length, with a deep red sash that tied at the back and tumbled down the full length of the dress in two crimson satin streams. The neckline, like Naomi’s, was low and V-shaped with two thin straps covering each shoulder.

  Naomi flew out of bed and opened the curtains. Sunshine filtered in and danced in shadows on the wooden floor through a
tree outside her window. Henry was getting out of his Rolls-Royce in his old dressing gown. He’d brought the car to the front of the house to attach some white ribbon. Henry was driving the four of them to the church. A hire car wasn’t necessary.

  Henry stroked the full length of his car with a yellow cloth and vanished out of view. Naomi went to her wardrobe to look at her dress and imagine Nathan’s reaction when she reached him at the altar. It was fitted down her body to her hips, where it became full and fell an inch from the floor. At the back, a train fanned out with the same detail of pearl and lace that surrounded the waist in a wide band.

  The morning passed with Lorie in a haze of pre-wedding pampering. They shaved, moisturised, plucked, painted and filed. Henry and Camilla were doing their own thing in another part of the house. Paths occasionally crossed.

  The flowers arrived, bringing everyone together to scrutinize button holes for the men and two stunning bouquets of crimson-coloured calla lilies and white roses interspersed with Bear grass. The calla lilies were the same shade as Lorie’s sash; rich-coloured, a type called Red Embers native to South Africa. Naomi had carefully researched the flowers, which were pale pink at first blossom, then turned dark red over time. They symbolised deepening love and passion. Scrolled petals formed almost a heart shape that arched and peaked at the bottom like dripping blood. She imagined casting them over her shoulder.

  At midday, Lorie suggested makeup and hair in that order. Naomi’s mobile rang from her bed. Lorie, who seemed more nervous than Naomi, jumped up to get it. She passed it over cautiously.

  ‘It’s Annie.’

  During the few moments that it took for Naomi to reach out for her phone, a scene paraded through her head of Annie waiting to be collected at the airport. Naomi wondered if she’d changed her mind, unable to stay away, and come home.

  ‘Hi Annie,’ she said, desperately hoping.

  ‘Please don’t tell Mum I called.’

  Naomi let all the air out of her and slumped on the bed. One sentence told her everything and flattened her. ‘I won’t.’

  ‘Look, I know this seems lame – me not being there when you’re about to get married. It isn’t because I’m too busy or too far away. I wanted to be there, Naomi.’ A pause, then some snivelling. ‘I really wanted to be, believe me.’

  Naomi steadied her own voice. ‘Why didn’t you come then?’

  ‘I’ve thought about it loads.’ She sighed and blew her nose. ‘But I can’t witness you tying the knot with Nathan. I’m sorry. I’ll probably regret it and if I do it’ll be my own fault, but at the moment, the further away I am, the better. I wouldn’t be able to keep my mouth shut if I saw him again. Plus things are awful with Mum. Everyone’s better off without me. It’s your day.’

  ‘Annie –’

  ‘Let me finish. But, you’re my sister and I really want you to be happy, so I’m ringing to say have a fantastic day and don’t spoil it by thinking of me, OK?’

  With Naomi too choked to respond, Annabel carried on.

  ‘You’ve always been brainier and more sensible than me, so let’s assume I’m wrong about Nathan and that you’re going to have a great life together, OK?’

  ‘I trust him,’ Naomi sniffed.

  ‘That’s good,’ Annabel sighed. ‘So, tell me, are you still a virgin?’

  Despite the tears, Naomi collapsed into laughter and blotted her eyes with a screwed-up tissue she found on the bed. ‘Thanks to Nathan, yes.’

  Annie laughed too. ‘So weird. Let’s hope after tonight you’re not both having second thoughts.’

  Lorie was watching intently, but was unsmiling. Naomi knew she could hear everything and found herself colouring. ‘I’m sure it will be fine.’

  ‘Fine? I’m expecting fireworks. You’ve waited long enough for some action.’

  Naomi turned her face from Lorie and busied herself by collecting her makeup bag from her dressing table. She couldn’t lose the smile. ‘Well, I’ll let you know,’ she said.

  ‘You’d better. And enjoy your day. Make it one to remember. Looking forward to seeing the photos. Don’t tell Mum I called.’

  After blowing Naomi two kisses down the phone, Annabel had gone and Naomi could once again sense the miles between them that had vanished while they were talking. Naomi turned to face Lorie with an emptiness inside her that only Annie had the power to cause, and fill. She dried her eyes. Crying had always been forbidden, or, when that failed, ignored.

  Naomi’s attention was won by Lorie taking a large butterfly clip from her hair and allowing it to tumble. It had grown six inches in two days.

  ‘Your haircut is just like mine and it’s the same colour. What did you do?’

  Lorie smiled. ‘I’ve had extensions and coloured it. I thought it would look nice for the photos. What do you reckon?’

  ‘It looks great.’ Naomi dragged Lorie to the mirror and they stood, side by side, Lorie standing just a couple of centimetres shorter than Naomi, hair and eyes the same shape and shade. ‘We could be twins.’ Naomi said.

  ‘Except you look younger and your eyes aren’t as close together as mine and you have higher cheekbones and better boobs.’

  ‘What do you weigh?’ Naomi asked.

  ‘Eight stone, two.’

  ‘Same, give or take,’ Naomi said. She turned to Lorie. ‘You’ve always been more like a sister than a friend. Don’t ever lose touch just because I’m married and you’re at uni. Do you promise?’

  ‘Naomi, we’re family, right? You’ve always been the sister I never had.’

  They moved together and hugged. Naomi didn’t know why she got the strangest feeling that today marked the end of something. Feeling tearful all over again and childlike too, she clutched Lorie.

  Lorie gave her a very wide smile when they came apart. ‘I’m so excited,’ she said, taking Naomi’s hands, squeezing them gently. ‘Is all your packing done?’

  ‘Yep, everything’s ready to go. White underwear in the overnight bag with my nightgown. I’ve got the perfume we chose.’

  ‘You’ll be covered in confetti when you get to the hotel. Trust me, you’ll want a shower to freshen up. Your soap bag has everything you need to look and smell fabulous. Are you nervous?’

  Naomi thought of her end-of-year recital. ‘I’m a musician, Lorie. I’ve done worse things. Plus I haven’t rushed to the toilet yet, which is a very good sign.’

  ‘Just enjoy every moment.’

  ‘I intend to.’

  Lorie turned to the mirror. Naomi caught her eye in it.

  ‘So do I.’

  Lorie slipped behind Naomi, lifted her hair and told her to take a deep breath. ‘Brace yourself,’ she said, taking hold of the clasp of Naomi’s necklace from behind.

  Naomi grasped the cross that had hung around her neck for eight years without ever coming off. It was her way of delaying the moment and preparing herself.

  ‘Let go,’ Lorie said, into Naomi’s hair. ‘Put it in the soap bag with the perfume and put it on before the big moment tonight after your shower.’

  Naomi still clung on. ‘I’ll feel naked without it. I’ve always been protected –’

  ‘It’s called superstition.’

  ‘To me, it’s called faith.’

  ‘It’ll only be for a few hours and I’ll be with you the whole time. After that, you can wear it for the rest of your life. You won’t want to go to bed without it tonight.’

  ‘No, no way.’ Naomi watched her fingers reluctantly release her cross. Lorie soundlessly unfastened it, removed it and tucked it inside Naomi’s hand. She replaced it with another necklace of pearls and diamonds – loaned by Camilla, inherited from her grandmother. A family heirloom. Something borrowed.

  ‘There. Painless so far?’ Lorie asked. Unsure, Naomi could only stare at herself until Lorie took her arm. ‘Come on, time’s pressing on. Let’s not keep Nathan waiting.’

  <><><>

  Camilla was last out of the house. She was reluctant to leave. She paused a
nd looked behind her for no reason that she could fathom. End of an era, she told herself, and all that sentimental rubbish. She also told herself with insistence, to be practical and leave the house without further delay.

  She busied herself by drawing a small sheet of paper from the drawer in the hall table. Leaning against the table, she penned a note to Cynthia the cleaner, who had not been invited to the wedding, but had been asked instead to come that day and clear up any wedding-preparation debris and strip the beds that Naomi and Lorie had slept in the previous night. Neither would be likely to stay there again and Camilla couldn’t stand the thought of stumbling upon Naomi’s room as she’d left it, with all the clues of her last moments there. She preferred to find it cleared and tidied. She hadn’t once been in Annabel’s room since Christmas. It was easier that way. Camilla let go of a sigh. Her short note said:

  Cynthia,

  Please clear and tidy the two upstairs bedrooms as discussed. When leaving, ensure all doors are locked and the hall light is on. Thank you. See you Monday as usual.

  Camilla.

  Camilla glanced up at the picture of Naomi and Annabel. A lump tough and painful as cement thickened in her throat. She picked up her white gloves and put them on. She straightened her hat. Her new beige handbag that perfectly matched her shoes, was beside her on the floor. She collected it. Her clacking heels echoed across the wooden floor as she headed bravely for the door, trying to summon a smile from a faraway place, leaving the silent house to its own private memories.

  27

  Naomi was holding the thin back of a phone she’d found sticking up from a crack in the paving stones by the back door. As Dan searched the back garden, Naomi concluded quickly that the remnant in her hand, was Lorie’s. She was familiar with the make displayed in very faint lettering and two parallel scratches in the top right corner.

  So Lorie knew. Maybe she’d warned Nathan already. News could spread at the rate of a forest fire. She’d always known too much and been too close. She’d always used it for her own advantage. Not this time.