‘It was too soon, too raw.’
It made sense. Dad was so sad after the mine closed, if someone had asked him to go down and bring up things to sell on, he would have said no. It might have broken him.
‘So, where did he go?’
‘After Chloe, he must have left. We tried to trace him through the employer. Their staff turnover was high and paying people cash in hand meant there wasn’t a proper employment register. Although there was no recession in the nineties, there was a spike in interest rates around 1998, and it meant lots of working-class people lost their homes. It made it almost impossible to trace everyone who was employed by the colliery for the clean-up operation. People worked and moved onto the next quick fix. It was just as it was. Whoever he was, he’s kept a low profile for a very long time.’
‘And now he is back.’
‘So it appears.’
Robert took another long sip of his pint and as he placed it down, I watched him lose himself to thoughts. I didn’t want to interrupt. The more he was thinking about the Drifter being here now, the less he was thinking about anything else, which was exactly what we needed.
‘The only thing that still isn’t making any sense,’ he said looking at his pint, his eyebrows knitted in concentration, ‘is why now – why has he come back after all this time?’
‘Robert, what if he’s been waiting for me to come home?’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘What if he has always been here, and he’s doing this now, because I am back?’
‘Have you not been back until now?’
‘Fleeting visits. Never for more than an hour.’
‘I see, that’s interesting,’ he said, as he looked up and away, thinking, visualising.
‘So, you think it’s one of the villagers?’
‘I’m not accusing anyone, but for years there has been nothing, and then the second I’m back, we are going missing.’
‘Jamie went missing before you came home.’
‘He did, but what if Jamie was taken to get me to come back?’
Thompson nodded, sipped his pint. ‘That would make sense, but why is he doing this?’ he asked.
‘I wish I knew.’
‘It’s been two decades, why now?’ he questioned himself. ‘What is his motivation now?’ he asked, this time directly at me.
‘I don’t know,’ I lied. Of course, I knew: he wanted to punish us for ruining his life when we lied about Chloe.
‘I know I missed something in 1998, I just can’t think what that could be,’ Thompson said intensely, and I swallowed, my mouth becoming dry suddenly. I was glad I’d only had two JDs.
‘Robert, what do we do?’ I managed to say, my voice even, hiding the sudden spike of fear.
‘Well, I’m going to lean on Hastings a bit, see if the kid can give me anything.’
‘Like what?’ I asked, glad the conversation was moving on.
‘Forensics from the tops. Any other abnormalities or clues from the crime scenes. My first concern is your friends. We need to find them.’
‘What if…’
‘We don’t work in “what’s ifs”, Neve. Let’s keep to the assumption they are alive, until we have to think of anything else. We did the same with Chloe, even long after she was “buried” we kept looking for her.’
‘Yes, sorry. I’m just freaking out.’
‘Well, try to calm yourself because I need you to keep me posted, see if you can remember anything from back then that might help us now. Can you do that?’
‘Yes.’
Lie.
‘Good. Is there anything else you want to say to me?’
His question made my skin prickle. It was an odd way of wording it, like he was testing me.
‘Hastings called me into his office.’
‘Yes, I heard. What did he want?’
‘To try to intimidate me – it doesn’t help that I’m the only one to have seen the Drifter.’
‘That we know about.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘If what’s suggested is going on, Jamie, Georgia and Baz saw the Drifter too.’
I thought about that for a moment – he was right. They would have seen the Drifter, right before he did whatever he did to them. It made me wonder, why hasn’t he attacked me in the same way? Why is he taunting me by hanging around in the shadows?
‘I think you need to keep a low profile,’ Robert said, as if reading my mind. ‘You, Holly and Michael. I don’t think any of you are safe. Whoever has taken your friends, I think they are close. He could be any one of us.’ His attention drifted away from me.
Robert’s stark warning was amplified by him looking over my head towards the others in the pub. Thanking him again I got up, put on my coat and headed for the door. As I did, Hastings watched me from the bar, a curious expression on his face, one that almost looked like a smile.
Chapter 41
2nd December 2019
Morning
Waking up, I stretched and waited for the inevitable throb to begin behind my eyes, then, remembering I only let myself have two drinks, the throb didn’t come. I wasn’t hung over. Going into the bathroom I splashed cold water on my face. The shock invigorated my skin, and snapped me into focus. Downstairs I saw Dad wasn’t in the chair. Fearing he was outside again, in the freezing cold, I hurried to the kitchen. The door was locked, and on the side was a note:
Didn’t want to wake you, nipped to doctor’s for that memory test thingy. I’ll get those bloods done too. I promise. Won’t be long.
Dad.
Fuck. Running back upstairs I threw on some clothes and started quickly towards the surgery. I passed Chloe’s old house, my eye drawn up to her bedroom window, and I jumped when staring back, a cigarette in her hand, was Brenda. She didn’t say anything, didn’t move, but stared at me. It was like she knew. She took a drag on her cigarette, the embers glowing brighter, throwing shadows over her bony face. I could swear for a moment that there was someone behind her, also watching. She exhaled, stepped back from the window, and there was no one else there. I thought for a second she might be coming to her front door, so jogged away, towards the village, only slowing when I was sure Brenda wasn’t pursuing.
Just before I got to the main road, I could see three police cars. It looked like they were outside Holly’s house. I tried not to panic as I headed towards her front door. Before I could turn onto her garden path, the arms of Hastings reached out and stopped me.
‘Where is Holly? Is she OK?’
‘Ms Chambers, please…’ Hastings replied, his grip tightening on my arm.
‘Just tell me, is she all right?’ I said, looking over his shoulder into Holly’s house. I could see something hanging on the coat rack inside her front door. A top. One that was covered in blood. And beside it was the DCI talking to someone in forensic clothing. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Ms Chambers. Please.’
‘Neve—’ A voice came from behind me, and turning I saw it was Thompson. Hands in his pockets, his demeanour calm, in control. ‘PC Hastings, I’ll escort Ms Chambers away.’ Even though he was retired and had no authority, he still commanded respect, and Hastings let go.
‘What’s going on?’ I pleaded again.
‘Come with me,’ Thompson said quietly, as he took my arm and yanked me away. Knowing I would get nowhere with Hastings, I acquiesced.
‘She isn’t allowed to know anything,’ Hastings called as we walked away. Thompson didn’t reply but shot a glance that made Hastings turn towards the house and pretend to be busy instructing people.
It wasn’t until we turned the corner, far enough away to not be heard or seen did he stop walking.
‘Holly is missing.’
‘Shit. Shit,’ I said, my hands going up to my mouth, covering it so I didn’t say something I would regret. I felt dizzy and sat on the edge of a garden wall. Lowering my head between my legs, I took several deep breathes. Thompson sat beside me, rubbed my back until
I felt calmer.
‘Sorry,’ I said.
‘Don’t be.’
‘When did it happen?’
‘I’m not sure yet. She rang in late last night, saying she had seen a man dressed in a dark coat outside her house.’
I knew as much but didn’t let it show. ‘What was that I saw on her coat rack? Was that her top?’
‘Again, unconfirmed. I believe it belongs to Dr McBride.’
‘Baz,’ I said quietly. He was taunting us again, showing us we could do nothing to stop him. ‘I’ve got to go, do you mind?’
‘To Michael.’
‘Yes,’ I said, shocked at how well he could read the situation.
‘I’ll update you if I come across anything.’
‘Thank you, Robert.’
‘Hey,’ came a voice, booming in our direction. Turning, I saw Hastings bound towards us. ‘Hey, what are you two discussing?’
‘Go, Neve. I’ll deal with him.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, go.’
I stood and walked away quickly. Hastings shouted for me to stop, but I didn’t. Looking over my shoulder, Thompson held out his hands to slow Hastings’ march and they began to talk. I couldn’t hear much of what was being said, apart from two words ‘the Drifter’. Hastings would have no choice but to investigate it properly because Holly kept her word and reported she had seen him. And now she was missing.
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I rang Michael who picked up on the first ring.
‘Neve?’
‘She’s gone. Holly has been taken.’
‘Fuck. I saw on Facebook there were police on her road.’
‘And it looks like Baz’s top has been left inside her house.’
‘Inside her house?’
‘Yes.’
‘He’s playing games with us.’
‘Yes,’ I repeated, fear trying to strangle my words.
‘Where are you?’
‘I’m in the village.’
‘Go to the pub, I’m coming to get you.’
‘I can’t, I’ve got to go and get Dad from the doctor.’
‘Neve, your dad will be fine. He’s not being targeted, we are. Go to the pub. I’ll be there in ten minutes.’
I didn’t respond.
‘Neve!’
‘Yes, OK, yes, I’ll go to the pub.
Hanging up, I turned around and began walking back towards Holly’s. The most direct way to the pub was past her house, but I wouldn’t tempt Hastings to do or say something to me. So, I turned onto the road that ran behind her house and made my way towards The Miners’ Arms. When I arrived, I waited in the car park, smoking a cigarette to keep myself calm. Behind me, the pub doors were open, revealing people inside. Their voices overlapped so I was unable to pick out a single conversation thread. I didn’t need to. I knew what they were talking about. Holly. More gossip, more drama.
And hearing their voices, I remembered why I ran away all those years ago.
Chapter 42
2nd December 2019
Morning
Michael pulled up, but the car had barely stopped when he reached over and opened the passenger door. I climbed in and he smiled at me before putting the car in gear. I didn’t know what to say to him. So I sat quietly, inhaling the smell of old cigarettes masked by a pine-scented car freshener which hung from his rear-view mirror. Leaving the pub car park, he turned right, in the direction of Holly’s.
‘Michael?’
‘I just need to see for myself.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know, Neve. I just need to.’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. Hastings—’
‘I don’t care about that little shit. I need to see, OK.’
I nodded, understanding. He shouldn’t want to see his best friend’s top covered in blood. And yet, I’d done exactly the same thing all those years ago when they had found Chloe’s. There was something that drew us into the tragedy. We needed it, we needed it much more than anyone would like to think.
We turned into Holly’s road and Michael slowed as we passed her house. I kept low, so he could see through my window clearly; I was hiding too. I didn’t want to fall under Hastings’ beady watch again. Or worse, I didn’t want the new DCI to see me – she was bright, and that was far scarier than anything Hastings could ever be. Keeping low in my seat, my head turned towards Michael, I watched him, and I knew when he saw the top; there was a slight flicker of his eyelid as he suppressed his reaction, and then he sped up, and sensing we were clear, I sat upright once more. I lit a cigarette for him and handed it over. Lighting another, we smoked in silence as he took a wide loop to head back in the other direction, past Holly’s road and towards his house. As he drove, I smoked and looked at the mine – no matter where we were, it was always watching. I thought about how I could get me and Dad out of this place. This wasn’t me running away from a problem anymore, this was trying to survive. I wanted to go now, but I couldn’t, not yet. Tonight, I would grab Dad, a few of his things and we would leave. I would tell Michael to do the same, because we were powerless. If the Drifter could take Holly from her own house, leaving Baz’s bloody top to taunt us, he could do anything. The village was small, no one had seen him, no one could find our friends. He could move in and around us like a ghost, and we couldn’t win. Michael might protest, he might stay, that was his choice. I needed to go.
I was relieved when we pulled into Michael’s drive on the westernmost outskirt of the village. The mine’s omnipresence was interrupted by a dip in the road and a line of mature birch trees. Michael’s house was tucked on a small lane fifty feet from the main road. It looked like it had once been a farmhouse that had seen better days. The roof had missing tiles and the window frames were of old, cracked wood that were once painted white but had faded with time. In the drive were four cars, all damaged in some way, no doubt linked to his business. They were projects for him to fix, or stock for spare parts perhaps.
I took a breath to ask something about the house – it was a far cry from the one-bed flat he grew up in with his grandparents – but before I could, Michael got out of the car and walked hastily towards his house. I grabbed the handle to follow but stopped when I heard him cry out like a wounded animal. His head was thrown back, screaming to the clouds above. Michael screamed for a few more seconds before his head dropped impossibly low. The weight of it seemed to force him to the ground. I quietly climbed out of the car and approached, unsure of how I should act, what I should say. I tentatively placed my hand on his back, and he didn’t move, didn’t flinch. I gently rubbed it.
‘Michael?’
‘Sorry. I just needed to do that.’
‘Don’t be. Shall we go inside?’
He didn’t reply but nodded and fumbled with his house keys. I took his hand in mine and slid down to take control of the keys, guiding them into the lock. He looked at me, a strange, sorry expression. I turned and opened his front door, and we stepped inside.
Leading him into the front room, I sat him on the sofa and went to find his kitchen. I flicked the kettle on to make a tea and opened the fridge to grab the milk. There were four beers. It was tempting, but I closed the fridge door. As I made the tea, I tried to keep an ear on Michael. But the house was silent. Going back into the living room, Michael hadn’t moved from where I’d sat him down.
‘Here,’ I said, handing him his tea.
‘Thanks.’
‘This place is huge,’ I said.
‘It’s a work in progress. When Granddad died, I was left with a little money and their flat. I bought this last year to renovate and then move into.’
‘So, no one will know we are here?’
‘It wouldn’t be hard to find us; this place isn’t a secret. But it is more discreet.’
I nodded.
‘Neve, I’m scared.’
‘Me too,’ I said, my hand reaching up and rubbing his back once more.
‘I thought yo
u were gonna leave long before this point. I’m glad I’m not alone right now.’
I felt myself move in closer to Michael, my head resting upon his shoulder. I needed to tell him I was in fact going to leave, but I needed to pick my moment. I could tell he wouldn’t follow, he would stay. He reached over and put his arm around me, and I felt myself drawing closer. Michael was one of the few men to hug me since Oliver and I didn’t know how much I needed to feel comfort. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, the fear, but I wanted to be closer still. Turning to face him, I leant in and kissed him, and at first, he embraced it, but quickly pulled away and stood.
‘Neve, stop.’
‘I’m sorry, Michael, I thought…’
‘What?’
‘Nothing. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.’
‘Just, you and I – we can’t, Neve.’
‘No, you’re right. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s OK,’ he said quietly, before he sighed and flopped against the backrest of the sofa. I should have felt more embarrassed for throwing myself at him, but strangely I didn’t. ‘So, what do we do, Michael? Do you think we should leave?’ I asked tentatively, testing the waters.
‘No.’
‘But…’
‘If we leave, it would look like we are running; we would look guilty of doing something to our friends.’
‘But we haven’t done anything wrong.’
‘This time, no,’ he said, looking at me to say something that contradicted him. We had gone way beyond that.
Maybe that night, after he banged and shouted, and we fled. Maybe he stayed down there, maybe he found Chloe and saw what happened next? Maybe this wasn’t about us ruining his life. Maybe he has been waiting all this time for us to be together once more, so he could make us pay. And because that wasn’t ever going to happen, he contrived our coming together again by taking Jamie. And maybe, if I did run, he would just follow. Maybe he would hurt my dad to get to me. I wanted to survive; maybe running wasn’t the answer at all?
‘So, we just sit here?’ I asked, the walls feeling closer.
‘Yes, we stick together, we wait for the police to find him.’
‘Or him to find us.’
Dark Corners Page 21
