The Heatwave

by Katerina Diamond

‘Am I supposed to be grateful that you used my friend to get off?’

  ‘We can do that if you want, Jasmine. A quick one and done. Is that what you want?’

  He moved in closer and she tilted her head back a little, the gap between them closing. She felt so small when he was close to her.

  ‘No.’

  She thought about what he’d said. Had he just said what she wanted to hear? Was he telling her he wanted more from her? The idea was both exciting and terrifying – he was almost ten years older than her. What could he possibly see in her?

  ‘I’m sorry about Felicity; I was trying to put you off, if I am honest. I thought maybe I could make you hate me. I didn’t sleep so well last night thinking I had hurt you. You didn’t deserve that.’ His voice was soft and low, and she knew he was lying. Whatever his motivation for kissing Felicity, he wasn’t telling her the truth.

  ‘Why would you try to make me hate you?’

  ‘Because you’re sixteen and I’m not that person. When I moved here, I didn’t expect you to be like this. I didn’t expect to like you as much as I do. I can’t be that person. I thought if I could put you off, make you think I was interested in your friend, then this thing that we have, this connection that just seems to get stronger, would go away. It didn’t work though because I can’t stop thinking about you, about being with you.’

  ‘OK. I understand,’ she said; she thought she did understand what he was saying. He had used Felicity to make her hate him, but it hadn’t worked, it had only made her feelings for him even stronger. The thought of him with someone else had pushed her desire to the surface. She couldn’t deny it anymore. Not even her fear of who he might be could keep her from wanting him.

  ‘I felt like we could be friends,’ he said. He looked so serious and his eyes were totally locked on hers. Her anger dissipated and she forgot what she was ever annoyed about. She couldn’t tell if he was playing with her or not. She was confused. As she pulled her eyes away, he did that thing where he wet his lips and Jasmine was right back where she was yesterday before Felicity came over. All was forgiven. Tim leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. He smelled of soap and his lips were wetter than she expected. She was dizzy and light-headed. He pushed his tongue inside her mouth, and she could taste a hint of coffee mixed with toothpaste. Time slowed and he put his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him. She kissed him back, taking his bottom lip in her mouth before pushing up on her tip toes and pressing her tongue into his mouth. Suddenly, he pushed her away and placed both of his hands on the doorframe to steady himself, his eyes closed as he buried his face in the pit of his elbow, as if trying to calm himself down.

  ‘Where did you learn to kiss like that?’

  Jasmine had kissed exactly seven people before that moment. None of them felt like this.

  He brushed her hair away from her face again and moved towards her again, kissing her neck. She had goosebumps. Was this really happening? His fingers cupped the back of her neck and her skin was full of electricity. She moved in closer so that he was leaning over her; the weight of his body pressed against her turned her legs to jelly. He was so gentle, so tentative, that it put all thoughts of danger from her mind. She didn’t feel threatened; she knew if she told him to stop that he would immediately. Maybe she had judged him too harshly. Maybe he had nothing to do with the death of her teacher. But if he had, he had done it for her, so that she would feel safe. She pushed all thoughts of Mr Morrell from her mind as she fell deeper under Tim’s spell.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Now

  I have been sitting in front of the television for hours. I ordered room service and ate my way through two sharing platters. I didn’t want to drink. I wanted to keep my wits about me in case I need to drive again. I can’t fall apart in case I need to be in control. The past is catching up with me and when it finally hits I want to be ready. It’s dark outside and I can feel the sea calling to me. The infinite blackness I want to submerge myself in. It’s cloudy outside so there isn’t even the reflection of the moon on the water. There’s just beach and then a complete void. I wonder what it would feel like to just walk towards it and keep going. I wouldn’t have to think any more, I wouldn’t have this feeling of impending doom plaguing my every breath.

  I have thought about death many times since that summer, not just my own. I stroke the back of my phone, wondering if maybe it’s set to vibrate and I just haven’t heard it ringing. Meeting Chris saved my life – before him I thought I had a different destiny altogether. I didn’t think there was any good in me at all. When Daisy was born she was so pretty, so delicate and perfect with her little rosebud mouth and stormy blue eyes. I knew as soon as I saw her that if I was evil then someone so perfect couldn’t have come from me.

  I check the screen and see that I have called him six times now without him returning the call. It’s obvious now that he is avoiding me, that he is upset that I left. I haven’t spoken to him in several days. I can’t blame him. In a way this trip has been a long time coming, not just for our marriage but also for me to be able to put a lid on the past.

  I have fallen in love twice in my life. One was brief, and the other I have sabotaged from the moment it began. Falling for Chris was something I neither invited nor welcomed. He was so innocent and sweet, instantly trustworthy. I barely noticed myself falling in love with Chris. If I had noticed, I would have put a stop to it, but by the time I did it was too late; Daisy was almost with us and I was crazy about him. I had naively assumed in those first few months together that love conquers everything – until the reality of day-to-day life kicks in, that is.

  The news comes on again. The body in the woods is of a man in his twenties. They don’t say his name but I know it. The end of a story, a full stop.

  Another piece of the puzzle falling into place, changing the picture completely. If he’s been under the earth in the woods all this time then who has been following me? Whose car have I been seeing? The fear that I am losing my mind is manifesting into a reality. Am I seeing things? Can I even trust my own eyes anymore?

  Why him?

  He was such a brief part of my life and yet the ripples of his presence continue to affect me and throw everything I think I know into disarray.

  When someone disappears without explanation it’s hard to move on. I was the one who disappeared though. I was the one who didn’t look back. There are two more places I need to go before I have the answers I am looking for. I should go now, I should have gone yesterday. Maybe I never should have left at all. Even with everything he did, he didn’t deserve this.

  I pick up the phone and call my husband, both frustrated and sad that he won’t take my calls.

  Daisy answers. ‘What?’

  ‘Oh, hi, darling. Where’s your dad?’

  ‘He’s driving, he can’t talk right now,’ she says, but I can hear the TV in the background, telling me they are at home. Conspiring.

  ‘I just wanted to know how you are all doing?’ I ask. I could call them out on their lie but I hardly have a leg to stand on.

  ‘Really good. When are you back?’

  ‘I thought you guys were coming down here?’

  ‘Dad’s not sure now, he might have to work.’

  I try not to sound relieved. ‘I’ll be back in a few days. Sorry I left at such a bad time.’

  ‘It’s fine, Mum,’ Daisy says in an effort to get me off the phone. I don’t have the energy for a conversation like this right now. I wonder if I wouldn’t have preferred it if the phone had stayed unanswered. I feel like a terrible wife and mother, but at least I called.

  ‘OK, I’ll speak to you soon. Love you all.’

  ‘Bye.’

  The phone goes dead and I am glad. I shouldn’t be, but I am.

  I pull out my laptop and start looking at names, names that pop into my head, people I might remember, names from the news reports that seem familiar, anything I can find. There are a handful of names I don’t enter, knowing ful
l well that I will find nothing, including my own. Chris, who is all about the wonders of technology, is surprised by my lack of interest in any kind of social media. He doesn’t realise the thought of getting a message from someone I used to know, anyone I used to know, literally gives me chills.

  I have more questions than answers now, even though the answers linger somewhere in my mind, trapped in my memory. I have most of the information now but I am still missing something, I know I am. There is something staring me straight in the face and I can’t see it. I’ve been chasing a ghost; now that I know he isn’t in play I can move past him. Someone is out there trying to make me think I am going mad. I instantly feel more focused. I will find out the truth.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Then

  Something had disturbed Jasmine in her sleep. When she woke up it was dark and there was a welcome chill in the air, the smell of a coming rain. She still had her window open and was lying on top of the covers. She looked to the right-hand side of the bed; it was empty – it hadn’t been when she’d fallen asleep. The faintest smell of Tim lingered on her pillow but he wasn’t there. A part of her wanted to message Felicity and tell her what had happened, but she knew it wasn’t the right time, and that Felicity wasn’t the right person. She had thought she would feel completely different but the only thing she felt was guilt. She looked outside to see if he had gone back to the guest house. The front door was slightly open but the lights were off.

  She got out of bed, holding her breath. She opened the door a sliver and saw a dim light coming from her parents’ bedroom. The light moved and she could tell it was a torch. Either there was an intruder in her house, or something that she couldn’t bring herself to contemplate was happening in the room next door. The drawers opened and she heard papers moving around in them, rustling as though he was searching for something. Maybe there was an innocent explanation for what he was doing, but she couldn’t think of one.

  She crept into the hallway and pressed herself against the wall, slowly angling her head enough to look inside her parents’ room. Tim was going through all of their drawers. He pulled open Lisa’s underwear drawer and rooted through it; he pulled out a bra and held it to his nose for a few moments, breathing it in, before stuffing it in his pocket. He moved to the other side of the room and Jasmine heard her parents’ wardrobe door open. She decided she needed to do something. She sneaked back to her room and made a little noise, turning her bedroom light on so that it spilled into the hallway, to alert him that she was awake. She was reminded that she didn’t really know him at all, neither did her parents. She couldn’t help but feel cross with them. They’d had a few lodgers over the years but they had never let anyone get this close before, never trusted anyone to be alone with her. He was very good at manipulating people to do what he wanted. She thought back to the previous night, with Felicity and the way he had made sure Jasmine had been watching, making her jealous to make her acknowledge her feelings for him, ignite that jealousy within her. Maybe it was never about her at all. Much easier to look through the house when you are already inside and what better way to for him to get inside the house than to manipulate Jasmine into letting him sleep there. How had he hoodwinked them all into trusting him? What was it he was looking for?

  She walked quickly to the bathroom and locked the door. Her heart was thumping. Her phone was in her bedroom and she was furious with herself. What if he decided to break the bathroom door down? Why would he? She had already given him anything he might want to take. She flushed the toilet even though she hadn’t been. She waited until she could hear no noise, hoping that the sound of her moving about in the night might have scared him away. She imagined him standing outside the bathroom door, waiting for her to emerge so he could hurt her. Finally, she pulled together enough courage to unlock the door. When she went back into her room, she could sense that he had gone from the house.

  She went to close her bedroom window because the temperature had dropped and the rain was coming down. She was shaking and not just because she was cold, she had been a fool, letting her guard down, believing he thought she was special.

  As she looked out she saw Tim crossing the garden back towards the guest house. She ducked out of the way and waited a few moments before looking again. He was standing there looking up at her window. His eyes snapped to hers in an instant and she felt her blood run cold. He didn’t react to the rain pouring down his face. Jasmine didn’t feel excited. She felt terror. He smiled at her, that big wide unnatural grin; although it was dark she could see his face clearly. Was this really happening?

  He finally turned away and went inside. Jasmine’s eyes were transfixed on the guest house door. What if he came back? Maybe she had enough time to run and get a knife before he could get to her. What was he doing in her parents’ room? What did he want? Jasmine thought back to this morning when he’d kissed her, and it occurred to her it only happened after she threatened to tell her parents about what happened with Felicity. Was he trying to keep her from saying anything by giving her what she thought she wanted? Ten out of ten for distraction. The light inside the guest house went off and she kept watching. If he came out again, she could call the police at least before he could get to her. She felt so stupid, so alone, so completely vulnerable. Who the hell was he?

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Now

  The body is definitely Tim’s. I thought he had breezed out of town the same way he came in, but in truth he’d never left.

  The police are treating the death as suspicious, which goes without saying, as he couldn’t have buried himself in the woods. The national press have started to turn up; things are getting exciting around here. Any café I walk into, it’s all anyone is talking about. So far, a few stories have emerged about him in the newspaper, things I had heard before and some things I hadn’t. He was full of secrets, anyone with eyes could tell that. The local people who remembered him said he was homeless but I knew that wasn’t true. Anyone he truly interacted with was either dead or gone, like me. Now would be the time for me to go to the police and tell them what I know, but I am still not sure what I know. I know that Tim had a brown car, the same brown car I thought I saw on the road just the other night, unless I was just imagining it. Maybe I was seeing what I wanted to see. Did I know all this time he was dead? I need to start picking at those scabs again, I need to set the past free so that I can get away from it. Even if I end up in prison, I don’t care anymore. It’s no less than I deserve after what I have done. I still don’t have all the pieces and I need to know before I speak to the police.

  As I go to leave the hotel room I notice a piece of paper has been pushed under my door. I stare at it for a moment before opening the door and looking into the hallway. The paper wasn’t there before I put my make-up on, so it definitely hasn’t been there long. I open it. The words appear in an unsteady scrawl.

  I KNEW YOU WOULD COME

  I fold the paper and put it aside. I look at the minibar and consider taking a drink or two to steady myself before I leave the hotel but think better of it. I go to the window to try to see the person who left the note. There are a couple of people walking along the front, but they are too far away to make out. Grabbing my bag, I rush out of the room, down into the lobby and outside. Unsure what I am looking for. Who I am looking for.

  Why would they reach out to me like this? How could they know I would come? I had to think. This confirms that I have missed something, that there is something I should know but I don’t. Something that links me to Mandy Green, something that would make me come back when she disappeared. I need to find out more about Mandy.

  I start to run along the sea front, looking at every face as I do. I don’t recognise anyone. Over the years one of my greatest fears was running into him again – to think that he was dead all that time. I thought he had just left town. So many times I have wondered where he went, who else’s lives he’d turned upside down, when all the time he was stuck here.

>   I reach the centre of the beachfront. I can go into town or I can keep going to the end. I have been avoiding that part of the beach more than any other. It seems more secluded somehow, more dangerous.

  I knew Hannah Torrence, I even saw her the night she disappeared. I didn’t know anything about Mandy Green though. Maybe people her own age might be able to tell me more. I need to see if I can find anyone who knew her. Knowing what this place is like, I expect the places kids hang out are all the same as before. We used to sneak out and go to Blackmore Gardens when I lived here. The gardens run alongside the bowling lawns and between the town and the library. The chances of me finding anyone who knew Mandy there are as good as any. I walk up through town and then through the cemetery into the gardens to check all my old haunts. This town probably has more memorial benches than actual people. You are never stuck for a place to sit. I see a group of teens messing about inside the large shelter and so I approach them. It’s two girls and three boys. They are passing a vape cigarette around and I can smell candy floss.

  ‘Hello,’ I say, sounding more posh and grown-up than I ever thought I could.

  The boy hides the vape behind his back. ‘Hello?’

  ‘I’m just wondering if any of you guys knew Mandy Green?’

  All eyes dart to one of the girls in the group.

  ‘Allie knew her, didn’t you, Al?’ the boy says immediately.

  ‘Hi, Allie. Can you tell me anything about Mandy?’

  Allie looks down at her hands, clearly uncomfortable. The whole mood inside the shelter has changed.

  ‘We were mates. We were hanging out in town and I guess I ditched her. We had an argument and she stormed off. No one’s seen her since.’

  ‘What did you argue about?’

  ‘Me.’ One of the other two boys in the shelter pipes up, looking both smug and apologetic at the same time, which is quite some feat.

  ‘They broke up a while back, but she was still upset that I hooked up with him,’ she said, embarrassed. The rest of the group were smirking but to their credit they were trying to hide it.