Long Gone

by Paul Pilkington

  She rushed over to the bed, as Natalie tried to pull off the covers. She was still very weak, but she managed to loosen the sheets and pull herself up into a sitting position.

  Her whole body was aching.

  ‘Take it easy,’ Tabitha said, placing a hand to Natalie’s head. ‘You’ve had a really rough time. Don’t rush things.’

  Natalie looked around some more. They were in a bedroom, presumably in Guy’s house. She thought back to those last lucid moments in the sitting room, before her balance deserted her.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked, her voice fragile.

  ‘You collapsed,’ Tabitha replied, as she pulled up a chair to the bedside. ‘Here,’ she said, reaching across to the table, ‘have some water. Your throat sounds very dry.’

  Natalie sipped at the liquid. It was tepid but nonetheless it felt like heaven for her parched insides.

  ‘I don’t understand what happened,’ she said. ‘One minute I was…’

  ‘You had a temperature,’ Tabitha explained. ‘And you were sick a few times throughout the night.’

  ‘The night?’

  ‘You’ve been out for a while.’

  ‘How long?’

  Tabitha looked at the time. ‘Just over twenty-four hours.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s half past one on Monday afternoon,’ Tabitha confirmed.

  Natalie could hardly believe it. It felt like just a moment ago that she’d been talking with Guy.

  ‘You’ve not been out all that time,’ Tabitha explained. You’ve been awake at points. But this is the first time that you seem better.’

  Natalie winced at the headache again. If this was better, she was glad that she couldn’t remember the rest of it. ‘My head.’

  ‘It’s okay, Natalie,’ Tabitha soothed. ‘You’re bound to take a bit of time to get back to feeling normal.’

  ‘It all happened so suddenly,’ Natalie replied. ‘I was sitting, talking to Rus– to Guy, and then, when I stood up, I just…’

  ‘Guy was really worried,’ Tabitha said. ‘He called me straight away and I came right over.’

  ‘I still don’t understand what happened. Why I collapsed...’

  ‘You had a temperature,’ Tabitha said. ‘It was pretty high, touching forty, but it came down pretty quickly.’

  ‘I can’t believe I was asleep for over twenty-four hours…’

  ‘We called the health advice number,’ Tabitha revealed, ‘explained the situation. They asked us a lot of questions, said it sounded like it was just a virus, told us to keep you comfortable and to call them back if you got any worse.’

  Natalie yawned, wondering how she could still feel tired after being asleep for more than a day. ‘Where’s Guy?’

  ‘Popped out to the shops.’

  ‘He told me that he works for Brand New.’

  ‘I know,’ Tabitha replied. ‘Look, do you really want to talk about this now? Maybe you should get some more rest? I can come back later.’

  ‘I’m fine discussing it now.’

  She nodded. ‘I’m really sorry, Natalie. Guy told me that you were upset by the situation.’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘I know it might seem like we were playing around with you for our own entertainment, but it really wasn’t like that. Honestly, it really wasn’t.’

  Natalie didn’t know what to say.

  ‘I can see how you might feel. But we weren’t laughing at you,’ Tabitha continued. ‘Yes, Guy got carried away, took things too far. He wasn’t meant to go as far as he did.’

  Was she talking about the incident in the attic?

  ‘Your trip up to the attic room, it wasn’t part of the plan. But he’d got himself drunk and started going off-piste. Which is why I told him to leave.’

  The raised voices that Susie had overheard. Now it made sense. It had been Tabitha arguing with him.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Natalie. And I’m sorry about what happened with Sir Kenneth, too. It’s just been a series of terrible misunderstandings…’

  Natalie still wasn’t feeling great, but she couldn’t let that comment pass. ‘You’re wrong.’

  Tabitha was following the same script as Guy – that what had happened with Sir Kenneth was a simple misunderstanding.

  ‘Maybe we should come back to this later,’ Tabitha said, moving to stand. ‘After you’ve had some more time to rest.’

  Natalie reached out and grabbed her sleeve. ‘It wasn’t a misunderstanding.’

  ‘Sir Kenneth isn’t like that, Natalie. He’s just not that sort of a man.’

  ‘You weren’t there.’

  Tabitha smiled sympathetically. ‘You’re bound to be confused, Natalie. You’ve been really unwell. And after all the excitement of winning. It’s been such an emotional rollercoaster for you, it’s no wonder you’re all over the place.’ She patted her arm. ‘I’ll come back in a bit; you rest up in the meantime.’

  Natalie watched the door close.

  She wanted to take hold of Tabitha and shake her to her senses, to make her believe. And if she’d had the strength she would have tried to follow.

  But less than a minute later she succumbed to sleep again.

  49

  Previous Tuesday morning

  THE NEXT TIME NATALIE WOKE, she felt so much better. The fog had lifted, and the aching in her limbs was gone. When she raised herself up in the bed with ease, she realised that her headache had also cleared.

  She swung her legs out of the bed covers. But Tabitha must have heard her shifting around, as she entered before Natalie had a chance to plant a foot on the floor.

  ‘Natalie, how lovely to see you up,’ she said, closing the door behind her. ‘And you’re looking so well!’

  Natalie brought her legs down, glad to be upright at long last, as Tabitha pulled the seat back across to the bed next to her.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Tabitha asked.

  ‘A lot better.’

  ‘Good, that’s really good, Natalie. I’m so pleased. We were really worried about you!’

  Tabitha placed a hand on her leg and held it there for a second or two.

  Now Natalie had spoken, she became aware of just how dehydrated she was. ‘Is there any water?’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Tabitha said, reaching behind her to the table. The half-full glass had been hidden behind the desk lamp.

  Natalie sipped at first but then downed the rest. Her body craved more.

  ‘I’ll get you another glass in a minute,’ Tabitha said, reading the situation well. ‘But first I’ve got an exciting piece of news.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve been in touch with Sir Kenneth, to explain the situation, and he sent you his best wishes from Australia.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘He’s really sorry you’ve been feeling so unwell. He’ll be so pleased to hear that you’re on the mend. He wanted me to keep him updated.’

  Natalie just nodded. She couldn’t think of anything to say. But one thing was certain – she didn’t want Sir Kenneth’s sympathy. She didn’t want anything more to do with him, ever.

  ‘Sir Kenneth also wanted me to let you know how sorry he is for the misunderstanding at the weekend.’

  When Natalie didn’t say anything, Tabitha continued.

  ‘He’s mortified by what happened. He said the last thing he ever wanted to do was to make you feel uncomfortable. He wanted me to let you know that it was a genuine confusion, but he said he takes full responsibility for it.’

  Again Natalie offered nothing.

  ‘He’s been thinking about it, and he can see how things might have looked from your perspective. As I said, he’s beside himself about it. He really likes you, Natalie, and he’s looking forward to working with you. He doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, or think that there was anything untoward about his intentions.’

  Natalie shook her head. ‘What he did. It wasn’t appropriate.’

  Tabitha smiled tightly. ‘He c
an see that now. He can see that, for you, it wasn’t the appropriate thing to do. And he’ll never do it again with you – he gives you his word.’

  ‘It wasn’t appropriate for me?’ Natalie said, acutely aware of the significance of how Tabitha had worded that.

  ‘Yes, Sir Kenneth knows now that it isn’t appropriate to do that kind of thing with you. So you’ve got nothing to be worried about. The last thing he wants is for you to feel worried about being around him.’

  ‘But what about the other times?’

  ‘Pardon me?’

  ‘Catharine tried to warn me,’ Natalie revealed.

  ‘Catharine?’

  ‘Diana Saunders’ assistant. She tried to warn me about Sir Kenneth. She told me to be careful.’

  Tabitha remained impassive. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘We were interrupted, so she never got to finish what she wanted to tell me. But that was it, wasn’t it? The thing she was trying to warn me about, it happened to me. And it must have happened to others before me.’

  ‘She’s a liar,’ Tabitha said finally. ‘I hear that Diana fired her.’

  ‘She told me she was planning to resign.’

  ‘That’s not what I heard. I do know that Diana had been considering it for a few weeks, because unfortunately she couldn’t trust Catharine.’

  ‘She seemed nice. She said she was going to work for a children’s book charity.’

  Tabitha smirked. ‘Well, I feel sorry for them, because from what I’ve heard, they might well have trouble with her.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Diana suspected she was stealing from the company.’

  ‘Stealing?’

  ‘Yes. Money had gone missing. On more than one occasion.’

  Natalie thought back to her dealings with Catharine. She’d seemed nice. And her reasons for wanting to leave the company seemed extremely plausible, especially when you had first-hand experience of working with Diana.

  The sacking story didn’t ring true. And neither did the idea that she was a thief. So was Tabitha just trying to smear her, discredit Natalie’s source?

  That seemed more likely.

  And she wasn’t going to be put off.

  ‘Has Sir Kenneth ever been accused of anything like this before?’

  The hesitation was telling. ‘Anything like what?’

  Natalie chose her words carefully. ‘Has he made people feel uncomfortable?’

  ‘Sir Kenneth is a good man.’

  ‘He has, hasn’t he?’

  Tabitha shook her head, but it seemed more in frustration than an act of denial. ‘What do you want, Natalie?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, what do you want? What’s this all about?’

  Natalie frowned at Tabitha’s cool tone but decided to fight it with fire. ‘It’s about your boss, and what he did.’

  Tabitha laughed. ‘It’s money, isn’t it?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Look,’ Tabitha said, her face softening. ‘I’m sorry I just snapped. Let me speak to Sir Kenneth again.’

  ‘There’s no…’

  ‘I’ll also get you that fresh glass of water.’

  She left the room, closing the door behind her.

  Natalie, for the first time in many hours, stood on two feet. She saw the pile of her clothes folded in the corner, and dressed quickly if shakily. Hopefully her shoes would still be by the door, but if not, she could take a pair of Guy’s or Tabitha’s, or just run in stocking feet. She would do whatever it took to get out of the house, away from this. And then she would decide what to do next.

  She hurried for the door and turned the handle.

  But it refused to budge.

  She’d been locked in.

  50

  Jack Morton put some distance between him and the garden.

  That bloody girl.

  He was sweating profusely, his t-shirt sticking to his wet chest and back. His heart was pounding – he could hear the beat in his head.

  He shook his head. She had made him do that, prodded him until he’d had no choice but to do what he did.

  And it had worked – it had stopped her in her tracks, shut her up. He thought back to the look on her twisted face, the shock and fear in her eyes, the fragility, the desirable femininity laid bare in the face of the danger he posed.

  He had almost wanted to kiss her.

  He kicked out against the nearby wall, connecting with some force. Running a hand through his hair, he lamented that he’d had to do what he’d done.

  Now she would call her daddy, tell him how nasty Jack Morton had attacked her. Cullen would come running, and she would show him the nail marks on her face, and cry like a baby on his broad shoulders.

  And then Cullen would come for him. He would find some way of taking vengeance on behalf of his daughter. He would stop at nothing.

  ‘Damn it!’ he shouted out loud, crying to the heavens. A couple of first-year girls gave him a wide berth, eyeing him warily. He thought about shouting after them, but decided against it. Instead he retreated further away from the main university buildings. He had lost control in the face of Amy’s provocation, and the world was still tilted on its axis. He needed to stabilise things, but until then he had to get away from people who might recognise him. He had a reputation to uphold.

  He got back to the flat, which was only a ten-minute walk down the hill. As he approached the door, his phone rang.

  It was Sophia, a girl he had met the previous evening at the student event in town. A pretty Spanish first-year language student, friendly and trusting. He’d seen her from across the dance floor, studying her body as she had partied with three less attractive friends. He’d waited until she had peeled away from the group, and had intercepted her as she returned from the bathroom.

  They’d struck up a conversation, and she invited him to join them on the dance floor. He hated dancing, but it was often necessary in order to achieve the ultimate goal. Later, he’d suggested going back to his place, but she said she had an early morning class and needed to get home. But after a passionate kiss, they’d swapped numbers and promised to meet up.

  He knew that she would phone soon enough.

  They always did. Even the ones who played hard to get would phone eventually, intrigued and sometimes strangely anxious by his lack of urgency at calling them first. It was funny how it almost always worked.

  And here was Sophia, just as expected.

  He stared at the phone, wondering whether to just ignore it. But she would only call again, and now he knew that he didn’t want that. He didn’t want that at all.

  She was still ringing. Desperate. She reminded him of the girl he had met about a year ago, in the Students’ Union. As usual, he had peeled her away from her group of friends with relative ease, although convincing her to come back to his place had taken a few drinks and a lot of charm. In the morning, he had woken in horror to find the girl folding his clothes that he had thrown on the floor the previous night. She placed them in a neat pile by the bedside, as if they were some kind of married couple! She had beamed at him like a new bride, as he hid his disgust at her in-your-face act of domesticity.

  He’d got her out of the flat as quickly as he could, resisting her overtures to take the day out with her. He had classes to lead, research to get on with; he couldn’t just drop everything.

  But he could and would drop her.

  She didn’t take the hint at first. He’d obviously been too good with his excuse, when maybe he should have just swatted her away there and then like the annoying buzz fly she had turned out to be. A few days later she tried to call him, but he just left it to ring. Then again a day later. And again the day after that. She finally got the message after that final call.

  He could do the same now, ghost this new girl until she got the hint. They hadn’t slept together – there were no emotional ties – so it might only take the one unanswered call. But he was angry. And he wanted to vent on s
omeone.

  What did it matter if it was this girl, and not the real target for his annoyance?

  He snatched the phone to his ear, full of rage and bitterness at the whole of womankind for the rejection that until now had been simmering but somewhat under control. ‘Yes?’

  How dare she reject him!

  ‘Oh, hi,’ the girl said hesitantly, faced with Jack’s abrupt opening word. ‘I was… hoping to speak with Jason…’

  As he often did, he’d used a false identity. This time he was Jason, a third-year law student. It made it so much easier with one night stands. He had several well-used identities, and had even set up a number of social media accounts for each one.

  ‘I don’t know if I’ve got the right number?’ she added.

  Her politeness only served to inflame his emotions. His nostrils flared as he thought about Natalie Long, and how she had walked away from him. How dare she! And that friend of hers, she was so pleased about it. Jealous cow.

  ‘Hello?’ the girl said. ‘Is that you, Jason?’

  He was sweating again, his body temperature rising as the blood pumped.

  ‘Hello, is anybody there?’

  ‘I was drunk,’ he said at last.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I was drunk,’ he repeated. ‘That’s the only reason I showed any interest in you.’

  ‘Oh…’

  ‘I would never have given you my number if I’d been sober. Delete it from your phone and don’t call me again. Do you understand, Little Miss Ugly?’

  There was shocked silence on the other end of the line. Then she reacted.

  ‘You can’t speak to people like that.’

  ‘I just did.’

  ‘You’re a horrible person, do you know that?’

  ‘Maybe I need to go on a course, to address my behaviour. You, on the other hand, I’d recommend cosmetic surgery to fix that face of yours. But it won’t be cheap because there’s a lot of work to be done.’

  ‘Well, I guess you’ve got good access to behaviour change courses, haven’t you?’

  She sounded suddenly assured.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Maybe you can ask one of your colleagues to fit you in.’