The Darkness Visible

by Tori de Clare

  Nathan nodded and put the black wallet on the desk.

  ‘Good, good. I’ll personally make sure that the petition lands in the right hands ahead of time. So we’re all in agreement that the marriage is voidable on the grounds that it was never consummated, are we?’

  Nathan hesitated, cleared his throat and shifted restlessly in his seat.

  Andrew Cavendish folded his fingers together. ‘Otherwise we’re wasting our time here.’

  ‘Yes,’ Nathan said, ‘agreed.’

  ‘Good.’ Cavendish opened a drawer and reached inside while Nathan swiped a sideways glance at Naomi. There was a murderous look in his eye which said – if you don’t produce that money, it’ll cost you your life.

  When Naomi became aware of Cavendish again, he was in the middle of a legal sermon, warning about the consequences of false statements. His elbows were resting on the desk in front of him; his fingers were steepled together. He was babbling like a running stream. Naomi tried to grasp his words, but it was like trying to touch a rainbow. She was relieved when he stopped talking and took hold of Nathan’s folder.

  Nathan said, ‘I only need to sign it.’

  ‘You really need to properly study –’

  ‘No,’ Nathan cut in. Silence a beat before he added, ‘No thank you. I think we all understand what’s happening here. I need to be getting going, so if you’d just show me where to sign.’

  ‘It isn’t really as simple as that, Nathan. There’s a process to go through. It’d be foolish to try and cut corners. Have you not looked into this properly?’

  Nathan’s fists were rolled into a ball and were resting on his legs. Naomi saw his fists clench. Nathan threw a hand gesture at his folder on the desk. ‘I’ve filled it in. You do your bit now. Look through it and make sure it’s OK and I’ll sign it. The end.’

  ‘It isn’t the end, unfortunately. There’s no simple way of ending a marriage unless one partner dies.’

  Silence filled the room. There was a big white clock on the wall which marked the passing seconds. At least ten marched by, as invasive as an army.

  Naomi’s palms were clammy. This wasn’t going as she’d expected. And now she was expecting Nathan to get up and leave. Instead, he glanced at her bag and she clung to it more tightly.

  Andrew Cavendish picked his glasses up off the desk and put them on. He opened Nathan’s black folder and removed a form and looked over it thoughtfully. He nodded his head and made the odd noise. Nathan’s fists were contracting against his thighs. One of his legs bounced gently up and down. Not fear, fury.

  Cavendish pushed the form across the desk with a pen. He pointed. ‘Sign and date that section for me please.’

  Nathan didn’t move.

  Come on. Come on. Pick up the pen. Do it.

  When Andrew Cavendish stole a subtle glance at the clock, Nathan lifted the pen. He drew it to his lips and leant over the desk. His eyes were scanning the words preceding the blank line.

  Do it.

  He was having second thoughts. And third. The clock began another march. Then suddenly, he lunged at the page and scribbled a signature. The only legible part was the first letter. Naomi hadn’t realised she was holding her breath. She released the rest of the air from her lungs as Nathan slammed the pen on the desk.

  ‘That it?’

  ‘No. I have a D80G form here and I’m advising you to fill it in. It’s to add a statement in support of the annulment. The court likes to see as much supportive evidence as possible. That done, we can apply for a decree nisi. Then finally, all being well, you’ll get the decree absolute.’

  ‘I’m not writing any statement,’ Nathan said, leaning back in his chair. ‘No way.’

  March. March. March.

  Cavendish said, ‘No?’

  ‘No. That’s it. We’re done. I’ve come here like she wanted me to. I’ve sorted and signed the form, and now I want that letter.’

  Andrew Cavendish lifted the form from Nathan’s side of the desk and slid it inside his briefcase. ‘Letter?’

  Naomi stood up and put her bag over her shoulder. Her head was light; her bag was heavy. She could feel the onset of panic. ‘Thank you for all your help, Mr Cavendish.’

  ‘You wait right there,’ Nathan commanded, rising to his feet.

  Andrew Cavendish froze in alarm. Naomi turned her back on both of them and headed for the door. It seemed a long way away.

  ‘The letter!’ Nathan yelled. ‘The one Naomi sent. Doctors’ signatures.’

  ‘You need to calm down, OK?’ Cavendish said in a steely tone. ‘I don’t know what you’re referring to.’

  Naomi had reached the door and was walking through it. Nathan raised his voice. ‘Naomi. Stop.’ Then to Cavendish, ‘Two doctors who examined her.’

  ‘I’ve never had such a letter.’

  Naomi turned right and was struggling to breathe. Her legs were weak. She heard nothing more of Nathan’s voice or Andrew Cavendish’s response to it. All she could hear was the frantic thudding of her heart. Her mouth was dry. Her footsteps were silent against a charcoal carpet. She didn’t know what she was doing, she only knew that she needed to get far away from Nathan. She’d intended to give him the damned money, but she didn’t want to do it in front of the solicitor and she didn’t want to leave the office with him either. So she’d spontaneously bolted. She’d give him the money later, when he’d calmed down, when she could arrange to leave it somewhere and never have to look into his eyes again.

  She saw a door to her right which said Ladies and looked over her shoulder. Nathan wasn’t in view so she grabbed the door handle and slid inside. It was a tight space with a small white washbowl on a black granite surface. The hand-dryer was next to the window and there was one toilet in a cubicle.

  She was leaning against the door, breathing hard. She hurried into the cubicle to find that there was no lock on the door. Crap. Then she noticed that the lock was on the outside door where she’d just come from. And at the same time, she heard Andrew Cavendish saying, ‘I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’

  And Nathan’s response, which was low and controlled, ‘Wait till I catch up with that bitch.’

  There was a tiled floor between the cubicle and the outside door. Nathan was right outside it. She needed to move and lock it, but she didn’t want to attract attention. So she’d frozen and was clinging to the toilet door.

  Move, she told herself. MOVE.

  She took two tentative steps forward on tiptoes. Then three, then four. One more step and she’d be at the door. She closed her eyes and took it as quickly and quietly as possible. She grabbed the lock and twisted. Two seconds later someone tried the door. She backed away, breathless. Then she heard Andrew Cavendish again.

  He said, ‘Did you hear any of that conversation?’

  His secretary said, ‘I was making coffee. What happened?’

  ‘Nathan Stone started demanding a letter that I knew nothing about. When I told him I didn’t have it, he threatened to break my neck. Did no one witness him saying that?’

  She said, ‘No one out here. Where was his wife?’

  ‘She left.’ A pause. ‘Then he wanted the form back that he’d just filled out. He tried to snatch it out of my briefcase. I really had to stand my ground and in the end he gave up.’

  ‘You’re kidding?’

  ‘No. I wouldn’t like to be in Naomi’s shoes when he finds her.’ Silence a moment. ‘Do you think we should call the police?’

  ‘And say what?’

  ‘Come on, Janet. You must have followed the case last year. What if he’s really capable of hurting someone? He’s just signed papers to say that the marriage was never consummated. If that’s the truth then he’s been free for months when he should have been in prison. To be honest, I was surprised he came today. It’s legal suicide for him. She must have offered him a settlement of some kind, or why would he cooperate?’

  ‘Don’t get involved, Andy. Do your job.’

  ‘I�
��m trying to. And I’m considering calling the police.’

  Without hesitation, ‘I wouldn’t. You don’t want the police crawling all over the office today. You don’t have time for it. And you’re running late.’

  ‘I know, I know.’

  There was nothing more until the secretary lowered her voice and said, ‘Do we know who’s in the toilet?’

  It was her cue to leave. Naomi was at the sash window. It had a brass clip that unlatched at the bottom. She slid the clip to one side and slowly pulled the window up. It overlooked a tiny car park packed with about eight cars. She looked back at the door and wondered whether or not to unlock it before leaving, but decided not. No time. She had to find her car; had to get to a place of safety.

  She lowered her bag onto the tarmac outside and carefully climbed out of the window and lowered it to a closed position. Then she grabbed her bag and looked for a way out. She didn’t want to end up on the main street when Nathan was sure to be hunting for her. She pictured him prowling with a knife and – out of options and pumped with fury – being very ready to use it.

  The stillness of a beautiful morning was at odds with her racing pulse. Sunlight slashed through the surrounding buildings, patterning the ground with angular shadows. The car park was lined at the back with a brick wall about a metre high. Beyond that was an adjacent car park and another building, which linked to a line of buildings.

  She rushed to the wall and climbed over it. A glance over her shoulder told her that the offices she’d just emerged from had vertical blinds at each window. All were angled for privacy. She was in the other car park now, which was similarly jammed with cars. The windows in front of her had blinds too, in bold blue.

  She dodged behind a row of cars and moved at speed towards the offices, if that’s what they were. She couldn’t immediately find the exit. Everything seemed hedged in. Then she saw it – a narrow gap between the buildings, which were linked at first-floor level. It was a passageway, just wide enough to permit one car at a time, sealed at the far end by dark wood.

  She hurried down the passageway to find double wooden gates lined with daylight and the promise of escape and an open street beyond. She tuned in to passing traffic as she took hold of a black metal handle and twisted carefully to the right. She pulled the gate towards her and found freedom . . .

  But she resisted. Freedom was terrifying, suddenly, loaded with exposure and risk. She wasn’t sure she wanted it anymore. The safety of Andrew Cavendish’s office had her looking over her shoulder and considering a retreat. She could go back the same way, slip in through the window, sit in the waiting room with the drinks machine and read magazines for the morning. She knew she wouldn’t, but a safe and cosy scene spread across her mind and stayed there, while she stuck her head around the gate and conducted a forensic examination of the street beyond.

  The waiting room dissolved. She forced herself to focus. She was seeing a steady stream of cars, a few people, and a lot of bright, spring sunshine. She ventured a pace forward and closed the gate without looking at it. It was right up against her back while her attention was everywhere else.

  There was no trace of Nathan. Bearings. Bearings. She could visualise her little car in a corner next to the ticket machine. How to get to the car park? The street was unfamiliar, but she knew the general direction she should be heading in and set off at a trot across the road.

  A plane was descending overhead, approaching the airport. The airport brought thoughts of Dan – of flying away with him and leaving Manchester and the madness behind, to discover blinding beaches and to drift through lazy, blissful days. Right now, it was just a hope. A distant dream.

  Danger was the present reality. Survival. Focus, Naomi. She did, and suddenly noticed footsteps behind her. Approaching urgently, at speed.

  42

  Dan had had an awful feeling all morning. It was an indescribable kind of sickness which had infected his mind and body. All his organs felt out of sync with each other, like they didn’t know what to do anymore or how to work together. Over time, the feeling had hardened into a weight that he’d lugged around the flat. And now it was too heavy to carry, but he was too agitated to sit down.

  He’d paced every room. The lounge always drew him to the window. Things were going on outside. There was a buzz – the sense that things were reaching a conclusion. From the body language of the few officers milling around, congratulations were going around. Maybe Simon Wilde had been found at last.

  As callous as it was, Simon Wilde was the least of Dan’s worries. Where the hell was Naomi? If Nathan had hurt her . . .

  Dan’s phone signalled a text. He looked at it urgently It was his mum saying nothing important.

  ‘Damn it!’ he yelled. He sent Naomi another text, the third that day. Ring me asap. Worried. x She didn’t respond. Dan couldn’t stand it anymore, the waiting and wondering. He’d have to drive down there despite his promise to Naomi that he wouldn’t get involved. He couldn’t sit around feeling useless. Dan grabbed his car keys and headed for the door.

  <><><>

  Naomi spun around to find an old guy jogging. She let out a pant of relief and side-stepped to let him pass. Then she surveyed the whole street again. Satisfied that Nathan wasn’t near, she scurried along, head down. She needed to be bearing right.

  She lifted the bag strap over her head so that the strap securely crossed her body, then set off again. At the next right turn, she approached the corner of the street with caution. Union Street. At first glance, it was clear. It was quiet. It led to the car park where her car sat ready to take her home. Union Street wasn’t straight. She couldn’t see the end of it yet. She followed it round in an arc until the end of the street ran into a T-junction. The car park was across the road. As it came into view, she quickened her pace.

  There were a few bodies milling around. Nathan wasn’t one of them. She could see her car now, tucked away, safe and still and very welcoming. She crossed the road and pulled her phone from her bag. It was on silent. Dan had left three messages, Annabel one.

  Dan: Be careful. Thinking of you. X

  Then, half an hour later, Things happening here. Loads of police in the area this morning. After days of searching, they’ve cordoned off a section of the canal. Rumour is that they’ve found Simon Wilde’s car in the water. Levels have dropped because of dry weather x

  Ring me asap!!! Worried! x

  ‘Whoa!’ Naomi said out loud. She tapped out a reply. ‘That’s crazy! As for Nathan – he came. He signed. I conquered! Don’t worry. Ring you in a min.

  She deleted all the texts, then dropped her phone inside her bag and pulled out her keys. And from nowhere, her hair was tugged sharply from behind. She’d heard nothing, seen nothing. Her arm was seized near the top. Fingers dug into her muscles.

  ‘You conned me, you little whore.’

  ‘Let go of me.’

  ‘You think you’re smarter than me, do you?’

  He was breathing down her neck and speaking quietly. Anyone watching might have thought he was being affectionate. She clutched her bag tightly and tried to pull away. ‘I think you’re insane.’

  ‘I’ll show you insane if you don’t give me my money. Now.’

  ‘I’ll give you the stupid money. Just get off me and leave me alone.’

  He was pulling her away from her car. ‘Lucky guess that you’d be parked here. I’ve been sitting in the car waiting for you to show up.’

  Naomi glanced round the car park. Two men were walking with their backs to her. ‘Just stop dragging me, would you? I’ll give you the money.’

  ‘I’ve no intentions of making a scene in public. This marriage has had enough exposure. We’re doing this in private. In my car,’ he said, jabbing a finger in the air. ‘Move it.’

  She twisted out of his grip and said in his face, ‘I’m not getting in that car with you.’

  Nathan took hold of the top of her arm again until she gasped. ‘You get in my car or Annabel and I
are going to get together one night, very late. And when you next see her, she’ll be in the mortuary.’ Naomi lashed out with her free hand, but Nathan caught hold of it. ‘Don’t think I won’t do it.’

  He looked around to check that no one was paying attention, then he gripped her wrists and pulled them by her sides and held her to him so he was an inch from her lips, and said, quietly, ‘I’d have happily murdered and buried you by now if fate hadn’t saved you. And I’d have walked away with all your money without a moment of regret, OK? I’ve told you this before.’ His fingers were digging into her wrists now. His eyes were wild and terrifying. ‘I was ready to walk into your parents’ house a few weeks ago, but Solomon turned up and your dad’s Rolls vanished again along with his vintage Ford.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I said I was about to walk into your house while your mother was home alone, but Solomon turned up and saved the day again.’

  ‘My dad sold his cars.’

  ‘Yeah – to Solomon. He drove away in the Rolls and your next door neighbour took off in the vintage Ford.’

  Naomi was confused. She couldn’t take it in. And Nathan was hurting her badly.

  She was breathing in shallow pants. ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘Your problem. Get in my car right now or your sister is going to take your punishment. I swear to you that I won’t rest until she’s in the cemetery.’

  Naomi blinked tears away and tried to ignore the burning pain in her wrists. She looked him in the eye and wondered if she’d survive the day. ‘I should never have saved your life. It was a mistake.’

  ‘That’s the price you pay for weakness, Naomi. You learn about your mistakes too late because you offer people chances. Whereas I take opportunities. Get in the car. Now.’

  She was resigned. Any mention of hurting Annabel and she’d comply. He knew it. He’d got her. She tried to break free of his clutches again. But he clung on. ‘Fine. Just let go of me, OK? You’re hurting me.’

  ‘Yeah, why don’t you let go of her?’ A voice from behind Nathan. ‘You’re hurting her.’