by Tim O'Rourke
I shaved with my hair still dripping wet, then threw on a clean but un-ironed shirt and a pair of jeans. As I raced from my flat and into my car, I checked my watch. 09:03. Shit!
Careful not to trigger any speed cameras, I sped across town towards Charley’s. The early December sky was gunmetal grey. It was bitterly cold. I switched on the heater, but it just blew more cold air into my face. There was no rain though, and for that I was grateful. I passed houses already decorated with Christmas trees and lights and they looked warm and inviting.
My mother and father’s house always looked inviting at Christmas. But I wouldn’t be going home. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see them, it was the thought of my father leading me into his study and trying to persuade me to leave the police and join his law firm, again. I didn’t want to spend my Christmas arguing with him.
As I drew closer to Charley’s house, the realisation of what I was about to do hit me. To take a civilian – a seventeen-year-old girl – to a potential crime scene was madness. And it wasn’t just me who’d think so. DI Harker and all my other colleagues would be aghast if they ever found out. But what if Charley was right? What if Kerry Underwood had been taken against her will up to the railway tracks and killed? That would be a murder, right?
Nevertheless, if it were ever discovered that one of the investigating officers had taken a young woman out to the crime scene on the off-chance she had received premonitions in a series of flashes, they’d be lucky if they spent the rest of their career slopping out the custody block.
‘I must be mad!’ I said aloud and sped up.
But who would ever know that I had taken Charley there? No one would. And what if she was right and the flashes were true? What if Charley saw some clue – something that would explain what had really happened to Kerry Underwood? What did I do with that information? I wouldn’t be able to hide it, especially not if the girl had been attacked – murdered. I’d terminated the interview with Lane because of what Charley had already told me. And ending that interview had got me into a whole lot of shit with Harker.
Half of me just wanted to stop, reverse and head back to bed, pull the duvet up over my head and go back to sleep before I did something I might later regret. But the other half wanted to know what had really happened to Kerry Underwood. With Jackson desperate to stamp ‘Death by Misadventure’ all over the case file at the earliest opportunity, I couldn’t get what Charley had told me out of my head. I couldn’t ignore it.
Besides, by taking Charley to the scene I was hoping she’d reveal more clues, and those and her behaviour might show me whether the flashes she saw, were a glimpse of real events or just a figment of her imagination. I pressed down on the accelerator.
I parked the car at the kerb and got out. Charley’s father was on the drive again, and was checking out what looked like a dent in the boot of his car.
‘Problem?’ I asked, walking towards him.
‘No problem,’ he said glancing at me, then back at the dent.
‘Reverse into someone?’ I asked, not because I was really interested, I was just trying to make conversation with the guy. I’d got the feeling the day before he didn’t like me much. Was it because I was a copper or because he thought I might be dating his daughter?
‘Someone reversed into me,’ he said.
‘I hope you exchanged details,’ I joked.
‘No,’ he sighed and his hostility appeared to soften. ‘It happened in Sainsbury’s car park. Came out with the shopping to discover someone had hit the car. They never do leave their details, do they?’
‘I guess not,’ I shrugged. ‘Is Charley in?’
‘Where else would she be?’ he muttered, and I detected that coolness towards me again.
I didn’t want to fight with him. ‘I thought I might take her for a bite to eat – you know, breakfast.’
He shot me a distrustful look but before he could say anything, Charley appeared at the front door.
I looked at her and smiled. She had done as I suggested and was wearing a thick warm-looking coat. The collar was pulled up about her throat. Her auburn hair spilled onto her shoulders, and with the pale winter sun shining, her hair almost seemed to glow red. Even though she wore just an overcoat, jeans and wellington boots, Charley looked stunning. It was everything about her. Her thick mane of curly hair, brilliant green eyes, the little speckling of freckles which started on the bridge of her nose and covered her high cheek bones.
‘Okay?’ I asked her as she came towards me down the drive. I had that horrible uncertain feeling as I wondered again if I were doing the right thing. Did Charley even want to see me again? But when she smiled, I knew that she was as glad to see me as I was to see her.
Her father looked at us. ‘I thought you were taking my daughter out for breakfast? She’s dressed as if you’re taking her on some kind of hike.’
‘Just to McDonald’s,’ I said. It was the best I could come up with.
‘McDonald’s?’ Frank tutted with a shake of his head. ‘You fellas really know how to show a girl a good time these days.’ He looked at Charley. ‘Remember what I told you.’
‘Yes,’ she sighed.
Although I didn’t know what it was he’d said, I suspected it was some kind of warning about me.
‘Just remember,’ he said again, walking back to the house. Then he was gone, closing the front door behind him.
‘What was that all about?’ I asked.
‘It doesn’t matter now,’ Charley said.
‘Okay,’ I shrugged, but secretly wondered if it did.
‘So has Mackey-Dee’s flooded?’ Charley smiled.
‘What?’
‘Why did you ask me to wear these things?’ she said, staring down at the green wellies.
‘I’ll explain in the car.’
CHAPTER 13
Charley – Tuesday: 09:23 Hrs.
‘So where are you really taking me?’ I asked as Tom steered the car away from the kerb.
He looked pale and tired, and his knuckles shone white where they gripped the steering wheel. ‘Are you all right?’ Tom stared straight ahead. ‘I couldn’t stop thinking about what you told me. The stuff you said about Kerry Underwood and the house on the hill with the broken down chimney.’
‘What about it?’ I asked.
‘I went back to that dirt track, back to where Kerry Underwood met her death,’ Tom said. ‘It really wasn’t that I didn’t believe what you told me. I never thought you were a liar. It’s just I couldn’t believe you could know that stuff about her – about what happened to her.’
‘Isn’t that the same thing?’ I asked.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I didn’t for one second think you were making up stories, I’m not like those other people – like your father. I just couldn’t believe you could’ve seen what happened to her, if that makes sense.’
‘Not really,’ I sniffed and stared out of the windscreen.
‘If I thought you were just telling me a pack of lies, Charley, I could have arrested you yesterday morning.’
‘What for?’ I glanced at him.
‘For wasting police time?’ he said, looking ahead at the road.
‘It was you who invited me for breakfast, remember?’ I said. I knew he was clutching at straws. ‘You don’t look as if you’ve had much sleep. I’ve been playing on your mind, haven’t I?’
‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ he smirked.
‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ I smiled back. ‘You’ve just got to know if I was telling the truth.’
‘And were you?’
‘I guess you’re going to find out one way or another today,’ I said, looking at the flat pale sun as it slipped behind a scrub of cloud.
‘I want to take you back there, not because I don’t believe you,’ he whispered as if he was telling me a secret that he didn’t want anyone else to hear.
‘Why then?’
‘Because you might be able to see more. Maybe by visiting the place where K
erry died, you might have more of these flashes you say you have … You might see more.’
‘More of what?’ I asked, my stomach knotting.
‘Think about it for a moment,’ Tom said. ‘If you saw all of that stuff in the flashes you had in your bathroom, miles away from the death, what might you be able to see if you were closer – if you were right where Kerry Underwood died?’
‘I don’t think I like the sound of this, Tom. I don’t even know if it works like that. I’ve never done anything like this before. The flashes have come to me at home, school … Trying to make them come where a death has actually occurred scares me.’
‘You don’t have to be scared,’ he said, glancing at me again. ‘I’ll be with you the whole time. I won’t leave you. And if it doesn’t work we haven’t lost anything.’
‘It’s not being on my own that scares me.’ Now it was my turn to whisper. ‘I’m scared of what I might see.’
‘If you start to see stuff that you can’t handle, I’ll get you out of there. I promise,’ he said.
Then, thinking of the warning my father had given me about Tom being a cop, I said, ‘How good will it look for you at work? I mean if you could solve this case, find out the truth about what had happened to Kerry – that would be good for you, right?’
‘Is that what you think this is all about?’ he asked, sounding hurt. ‘Climbing the ladder?’
‘Isn’t it?’ I said, trying to read him.
‘No it’s not,’ he said. ‘If what you saw is true, there is someone out there who hurt Kerry Underwood and maybe your friend Natalie too. He might not have pushed them both in front of trains, but he had something to do with their deaths. And who ever he is, he needs to be caught. He’s responsible for Kerry’s death. I couldn’t give a shit what my colleagues think of me or I wouldn’t be here with you right now. What’s important is getting some answers for the Underwoods and for their daughter, Kerry.’
‘Okay, I’m sorry,’ I said.
‘Don’t be sorry,’ Tom told me. ‘I’m the one who should be sorry. I should’ve thought more about how this might make you feel. I’m being selfish, but not for the reasons you thought. If you would rather go and get something to eat, I’ll understand.’
I didn’t answer him at first. I did want to help. I did want to find answers for Kerry and maybe Natalie too. But I had questions of my own that needed answering, like was my mother’s death connected to my flashes in some way? Had I had such vivid images of Kerry’s death because she died in similar circumstances to my mum? Was it Natalie who had tried to contact me in the graveyard? Maybe by going to where Kerry died, I might find the answers to my own questions.
‘It’s okay. I’ll do it,’ I said.
The dirt track was narrower than it had seemed in my flashes. Tom stopped the car and we sat silently together. My heart was racing so fast that I thought it just might burst from my chest at any moment. A wind had picked up and I could see the tree branches bending back and forth.
‘Are you okay?’ Tom asked, placing a gentle hand over mine. I didn’t brush it away. ‘You don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to.’
‘No, I want too,’ I told him, and opened the car door. It was freezing cold, so I pulled my coat tight about me. My hair blew around my face and shoulders and I wished that I’d tied it into a ponytail before I’d left home. Tom came around the front of the car.
‘Well?’ he asked me.
‘Well, what?’ I said.
‘Do you see anything yet?’
‘It doesn’t work like that, Tom,’ I said. ‘I told you, it might not work at all.’
‘Okay,’ he said.
‘Just give me a minute or two.’ The pains that warned me the flashes were coming crept up the right side of my face.
Tom walked past me and pointed to a nearby hedgerow. ‘I found this …’
‘Stop!’ I snapped, raising a hand. ‘Don’t tell me anything.’
‘Okay.’ He sounded like a scolded child.
I heard a rumbling sound. At first I couldn’t tell if it was coming from inside my head or further away. I closed my eyes, but there were no pictures – no flashes. The rumbling came again, this time louder, nearer. I opened my eyes. A train.
It was the distant sound of a train thundering towards us. To hear it reminded me instantly of the images I’d seen the other night. My head snapped backwards as if someone had yanked on my hair and the searing bolt of pain streaking across my brain told me the flashes were coming.
CHAPTER 14
Charley – Tuesday: 10:43 Hrs.
‘Are you all right?’ Tom’s voice was fearful. ‘What’s happening to you?’
‘Don’t touch me!’ I hissed, one hand clamped to the side of my head, the other pushing him away. ‘Keep away, Tom.’
‘Charley …’ he said, but his voice was drifting away, as if he were shouting from the bottom of a deep well. He was drowned out by the sound of that train inside my head. It was so loud it was as if I were being dragged under its wheels.
Flash! Flash! Flash!
Those bright white lights exploded inside my head and in them I saw the train bearing down on me. The front of it almost seeming to grin, like a huge steel monster coming out of the darkness. The train driver’s face swam in an inky pit of black, his eyes wide. I was suffocating beneath the stench of grease and oil. There was an ear-piercing screech of brakes and suddenly my whole body was on fire.
The flashes stopped. I opened my eyes to see Tom standing beside me, his face sick with worry. I looked at him, the palms of my hands pressed against the side of my head, my eyes watering.
Tom took a piece of crumpled tissue from his pocket. ‘Here, use this.’
‘Thanks,’ I said wiping the tears away.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
‘Just give me a moment,’ I said, screwing up the piece of tissue. I looked hard at him. ‘Scared?’
‘Well, yeah,’ he whispered. ‘You don’t look very well, Charley. Perhaps we should stop?’
‘I’m used to it,’ I said.
‘Did you see anything?’ he asked.
‘I saw the train just as Kerry would have done. It was like I was lying right in its path as it raced towards me.’
‘Has that ever happened before?’ he asked me.
‘Yeah, but not so intense.’
‘How do you know it was Kerry’s eyes you were looking through?’ he asked.
‘Who else could it have been?’ I said.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Did you see anything else?’
No sooner had Tom spoken, than something new happened. It was as if his car was flashing with bright white light.
‘Do you see that?’ I breathed, walking back towards his car.
‘See what?’ he asked.
‘Your car. Look at your car, Tom.’
‘What about it?’
‘It’s sparkling,’ I murmured.
‘Sparkling?’
‘Yeah, like it’s been showered with glitter.’ I held my hand up in front of my eyes to stop them from being blinded by the bright white lights that popped and glimmered all around it; they looked like a million swarming fireflies. ‘It looks beautiful.’ I had never seen anything like it before.
‘Charley, there are no lights,’ Tom said from behind me, and just like before, his voice faded away, as if snatched by a gust of wind.
I continued towards the car, one hand held over my eyes, the other stretched out before me.
Flash! Flash! Flash!
Tom’s car wasn’t there any more. In those rapid, fleeting pictures inside my head I saw another car. It was white. The passenger door was open. There was the sound of someone pleading – Kerry – it was Kerry I could hear.
‘Please let me go!’ she sobbed.
Flash!
I saw hands yank her by the wrist from the passenger seat. I felt a spike of pain in my own wrists, as if invisible fingernails were cutting deep into my flesh. A
nother blinding snapshot of her face. Her pretty eyes pleading with him. Another burst of white. Fingernails clawed at the side of the car. I saw her fingers scraping away the paint with a sound like metal scraping over ice. Goose flesh ran up my back and I felt sick. Then, the flashes and bright lights disappeared.
‘Charley?’ Tom said.
‘Whoever brought Kerry up to this place, parked right here,’ I said, pointing at his car.
‘How can you be so sure?’ he asked.
‘I saw lights round your car and in them images of a different one. I couldn’t be sure of the make, but it was white. I saw Kerry being dragged from it. I saw her scratch at it with her fingernails. Get someone to check under Kerry’s nails.’
‘For white paint?’ Tom said.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I saw it. The paint would have come from his car.’
Tom reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his notebook. I turned back to look at Tom’s car but it just sat there in the gloom beneath the bruised sky. There were no more lights – or so I thought. In the hedgerow, I saw them again. They were neon white, the size of pound coins, blinking on and off as if trying to grab my attention.
I walked around the back of Tom’s car and headed towards them. ‘Can you see the lights this time?’
Tom looked up from his notebook. ‘What did you say?’
‘You can’t see them, can you?’
‘See what?’ he asked, coming towards me. ‘More lights,’ I whispered.
They hovered around a gap in the bushes and nettles. I went towards it, and my head jerked to the right. More flashes. Mud. Puddles. Kerry’s dirty trainers being dragged through them. I opened my eyes, pushed the undergrowth apart and the lights disappeared as quickly as a set of Christmas tree lights being switched off.
A narrow path spiralled into the gloom on the other side of the bushes.
‘I found this earlier,’ Tom whispered behind me. ‘It leads to …’
‘Shhh,’ I said. ‘Don’t tell me.’
‘Sorry,’ he said.
I made my way up the path, more lights appearing in the distance, as if showing me the way. All the while my head thumped, as if my heart was inside my skull instead of my chest. Every few feet the flashes would shatter like shards of glass inside my head, each one a picture of Kerry being dragged through the undergrowth. She cried out, her shrill voice all around me.
