by Celina Grace
“Bravery is one thing,” Tin replied. He was staring down at his glass, his strong brown fingers moving it in circles, swivelling the thick stem of the glass. “But it’ll only get you so far.”
“Mmm,” said Kate, not really understanding. She took another sip of wine to cover the silence that followed. I should say something, she thought and then thought, what? Say what? What am I actually trying to communicate?
She thought for a moment of saying something, something to break apart the kind of conversational deadlock they seemed to have got themselves embroiled in. For a moment, Kate wavered, about to ask something really personal, something they’d never really talked about before. Do you have children? Where do you see this relationship going? She opened her mouth and then, seeing Tin’s face before her, tired and closed off, the very essence of him far away from her, she shut it again. Exhaustion suddenly swamped her. She was too damn tired to start digging into what really mattered to him. Too damn tired to do anything. She thought of all the work that awaited her that morning and felt her eyelids flutter with fatigue. All the same, she kept the same half smile on her face, and made the right interested noises as he spoke, and tried her best.
Tin was saying something about Game of Thrones, talking about television characters that Kate knew nothing about and cared less. “Mmm,” said Kate, trying to stop her eyes glazing over. She stared at the shimmering surface of the wine in her glass and all she could see in the reflection was dark woodland, the sighing branches of the trees, the ominous black shape that was the young girl hanging from a tree.
Chapter Eleven
Kate didn’t recognise the number on her phone, but as soon as she answered the call, she recognised the voice.
“Ah, I’m so glad I caught you, Detective Sergeant.”
“What can I do for you, Mister Downey?” asked Kate, walking over to the office corridor, where it was somewhat quieter than the frenetic office.
“Call me Zac, please. The thing is, I’ve been wondering whether or not to call. I wouldn’t want to waste your time but – well – I found something of Claire’s, Claire Collins’, and I’m not sure whether you’d want to see it or not. I mean, I know you’re not investigating her death any longer but—”
“What is it, Zac?” broke in Kate.
She could hear his hesitation on the other end of the line. “It’s a play – a scene, really. The sixth formers had to write a short play, as one of their assignments, and Claire’s – I was just looking through her things as I was marking and – well, I found this scene. It’s quite distressing to read.”
“Had you not seen it before?” asked Kate, puzzled.
“No, this was the last assignment, the one just handed in. I’m just marking them now.”
Kate shifted the phone to her other ear. “What does it say?”
Again, Zac hesitated. “Can I email it over to you, perhaps? Then you can see for yourself. If nothing else, I think it gives an indication into her state of mind. Reading it, I can see... I can possibly see why she did what she did.”
“That’s fine, send it over,” Kate said. She gave him her email address. “I’ll have a look but – well, as you say, there aren’t any suspicious circumstances to her death. But it’s always helpful to have any extra information,” she added hastily, thanking him for his call.
He demurred and reiterated his desire to help. Kate was just about to say thanks again and end the call when Zac said suddenly “I can’t be the only one who thinks that you guys do a great job. I mean, it must take its toll. I can’t imagine having the kind of job where you have to do the things you guys do.”
“It has its moments,” said Kate.
“It can’t be easy though,” said Zac’s voice, warm and familiar in her ear.
“No,” Kate admitted. “Not always.”
“I guess it helps if you’ve got other people to talk to.”
“That’s one thing, yes.”
There was a moment’s silence and then Zac said, quite diffidently. “I’d be – I’m always happy to listen if you ever want to talk to me.”
Was he – did he mean that how it sounded? Kate was a little flattered and a little alarmed at the same time. She conjured up his face, remembering how good-looking he was, and then, simultaneously, remembered how Fliss had blushed around him. “That’s very kind of you,” Kate replied eventually, in a slightly more formal tone than the one she’d intended.
He clearly got the message. “Hey, I’m sorry... I hope I didn’t – I didn’t mean any offence.”
“None taken,” Kate said, laughing. “Seriously, thank you for your call, and I’ll look out for that email. It’s much appreciated.”
They said goodbye and Kate went back to her desk, smiling a little. Not that she’d take him up on his offer, but it was always rather flattering when a handsome man showed you some interest. Her thoughts flew, rather guiltily, to Tin.
“What’s up?” Fliss asked, as Kate sat back down at her desk.
Kate wondered whether she should mention who it had been on the phone and had a slightly malicious desire to do that, just to see how Fliss reacted. But kindness and consideration won out in the end. “Oh, nothing important,” Kate said breezily, rolling her chair forward to slot her legs under the desk.
Gradually, as people settled down to work, the office stilled, the busy silence punctuated only by the rustle of paper and the ringing of the telephones. Kate, feeling more energetic than she had for the past few days, whizzed through her emails, dealt with some outstanding reports and was just about to make a start on her expense claims when the email from Zac Downey arrived. She opened it, curious to see if he’d written anything to her, perhaps along the flirtatious lines of his phone call. But there was just a single short paragraph. Here’s the piece I was telling you about. I hope it’s useful. Yours sincerely, Zac Downey.
Shrugging mentally, Kate opened the attachment. It was two sheets of typed copy, laid out in a script but – as Kate quickly skimmed it to start with – with only one character speaking. A monologue, then. Kate scrolled back to the first line and read it again, more thoroughly. The character seemed to be a young girl, a schoolgirl, even, talking away to someone unseen on stage, perhaps even addressing them in a soliloqy. It was so long since Kate had been to the theatre that she was quite proud of remembering the proper theatrical terms. The opening line was I see the shadow in the doorway at night and I always hope that it’s a dream, a nightmare, but it isn’t, because I can’t seem to wake up. Kate read on, her heart sinking. It was the account of a young girl being abused by an unnamed man, someone close to her. The character said, several times, you are the only person I can talk to about this, the only person I can tell. I know you will understand. Kate found herself wondering about this unknown confidant. She scrolled through, checking whether she had missed any pages but no, there were only the two. Kate read it through once more. Claire Collins had had a talent with words. That made it unexpectedly painful to read, thinking of the future the girl might have had, if only she hadn’t tied that green twine to a tree branch and wrapped it around her slender neck. Kate came to the end of the little script and fought the urge to put her head in her hands. Slowly, she clicked on the button to close the attachment down.
“Are you okay?” Fliss asked her from across the desk.
Kate sat up a little straighter, pulling herself together. “Fine, I’m fine, thanks, Fliss.” She wavered, wondering whether to explain, but Fliss had already nodded and was getting up out of her chair.
“Just got to make a phone call,” she said and hurried off in the direction of the corridor.
There was something about Fliss’s manner that was a little furtive, and Kate thought she recognised why. It was the manner of someone who had to make a phone call that they would rather not be overheard. Kate had had to make more than one of those types of calls in work herself. She winced a little, memories of her mother coming into her mind.
She stretched, got u
p and made herself a coffee, wondering what to tackle next. She was due to appear for the prosecution in the upcoming court case of a serial sex offender, and she really ought to be preparing for that, as it was next month... Lost in thought, Kate wandered out into the corridor to visit the toilets before she returned to her desk. Fliss was standing over by the window, talking quietly into her mobile. She gave Kate a rather harried smile as Kate caught her eye as she walked by.
When Kate was back at her desk, and hunting out the sex offender’s file, she was conscious of a little niggle of unease. There had been something not quite right, not quite usual, about Fliss in that moment she’d seen her in the corridor. What had it been? Something really minor but just slightly off-key. Kate pondered for a second and then mentally dismissed the thought. It couldn’t have been that important. She bent her attention to her file and when Fliss came back into the office and sat back down opposite her colleague, Kate had completely forgotten about that tiny moment of puzzlement.
At lunchtime, Theo and Rav sauntered over. “We’re off to the café,” Theo said. “Thought we’d treat ourselves today. You ladies fancy coming?”
Fliss declined – she had to go to a meeting – but Kate, cheered by the thought of a quick break in the spring sunshine, accepted. The three of them made their way out through the forecourt of the station and down the road, to the little greasy spoon café that, along with The Arms, catered to the station’s need for strong coffee, equally strong tea and bacon butties dripping with hot fat and smothered with ketchup.
They sat outside in the slowly strengthening warmth of the sun and Theo lit a cigarette, much to Kate and Rav’s disgust.
“Not while we’re eating, Theo, please.”
“I’ll stub it out when the food comes,” Theo said, unmoved.
He did just that when the food arrived, and Kate moved the ashtray onto a nearby empty table with a little grimace. Then, wiping her fingers with a paper napkin, she took a pull of hot black coffee with an inner sigh of satisfaction.
They talked about work for a bit and then the conversation drifted onto other matters. Theo and Rav became embroiled in a discussion about football, after which Kate had to make some strenuous efforts to get them talking about something – anything – else. Theo apparently had a new girlfriend, whereas Rav was thinking about moving in with his. “My parents will kill me,” he said, with a resigned shrug. “But, what the hell.” They both asked about Tin but Kate fobbed them off with a positive but non-committal comment.
“Shame Fliss couldn’t join us,” Theo said, tipping the last of the tea from the metal pot into his mug.
“Yeah,” said Rav. “Would have been good for her to get out for a bit. She’s working too hard, just about killing herself for the overtime at the moment.”
Kate remembered all those times she’d arrived at the office and Fliss had already been there, head down. “It’s tough being the newbie, though, isn’t it? You feel you’ve got more to prove.”
“Oh, I think she’s just keeping busy,” Rav said. “You know, because of all the stuff at home.”
“What stuff at home?” Kate asked, mystified.
The two lads looked a little awkward. “Oh, you know – don’t you know her mum – her mum died last year?” Theo said, looking as if he’d be happy for the ground to swallow him up.
The thump in the stomach caught Kate unawares. She sat up, conscious of the fact that she’d visibly flinched. “Fliss’s mum died?”
Rav cleared his throat. “I thought you knew.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Well, yeah, she died late last year. Not long after Fliss joined us. Don’t you remember, she was on compassionate leave for a bit?”
“Oh, yes,” said Kate uncertainly. The last few months had passed in such a blur for her, because of her own mother’s death, that she found it impossible to recall something like that. “Poor Fliss,” she added. With a thump of shame, she remembered Fliss giving her condolences in the car on the way to the college. What had she said? I kind of know what you’re going through... And Kate had dismissed her, just like that. She inwardly winced.
A slightly awkward silence fell, broken only by the waitress coming to clear their empty dishes. Theo normally flirted with her, every chance he got, but today he seemed to barely notice and merely lit another cigarette.
“Anyway,” Rav said, finally breaking the silence. “I think Fliss has got a new man now, anyway. That’s cheered her up.”
Kate didn’t really want to talk about Fliss anymore. “That’s good,” she said, looking at her watch. “God, we’ve got to get back. I’ve got tons of work to do.”
As they walked back to the station, Kate made another resolution to herself. She would be kinder to her young colleague; kinder and more open. If Fliss wanted to talk to her, even if it was about subjects as painful to both of them as their recent bereavements, Kate would be prepared to listen. All the same, was her treacherous thought as she hurried up the station steps, I’m not going to bring it up. She can do that if she wants, and I’ll listen and I’ll talk. But I’m not going to be the first to mention it.
Chapter Twelve
Kate got home that night at an unusually early hour. She fed her cat Merlin and sorted the few bits of post that lay on the doormat, pleasurably conscious that tonight she had absolutely nothing to do except please herself. A hot bubbly bath was definitely on the cards and then a takeaway and a film from the Netflix account that she never made enough use of and always meant to cancel. She topped up Merlin’s water bowl, ran a hand down his silky black back, which arched up under her palm, and made for the stairs.
She was interrupted by the ringing of her mobile phone, sounding tinny notes from the bottom of her handbag. Kate paused, one hand on the stair banister and battled her conscience. Every fibre in her being was screaming at her to ignore it. After a silent struggle, she sighed and went to answer it.
She didn’t recognise the number. Nor, once she’d pressed the answer button, did she at first recognise the voice. No longer warm and intimate, Zac Downey’s normally beautiful voice was distorted by shock, shaking and almost tearful.
“Mr Downey?” asked Kate, once he’d stutteringly identified himself. “What’s wrong?”
She heard him take a deep breath. “It’s one of the girls, one of the students, I’ve just found her, I think she’s dead—” He gulped and the sound crackled in Kate’s ear. “I think she’s dead!”
Kate’s heartbeat accelerated a notch. “You’ve found a student? Where? What happened?”
“She was in the cloakroom, on the floor, she’s here, I’m here with her now. I don’t know what to do—”
“Have you called an ambulance?” whipped out Kate.
Zac Downey took another breath that was almost a sob. “Yes, I called them, they said they’d be here any minute but I don’t know – what can I do? I think she’s dead, she’s cold – I don’t know what to do—”
“I’m on my way,” said Kate, fumbling her car keys off the hook with one hand. “You’re at the college, yes? Where?”
As Zac falteringly gave directions, Kate was already out of the door and running to her car. She told Zac she’d be there within fifteen minutes, reiterated that he should wait for the paramedics, and told him not to panic. Then she hung up and immediately dialled Anderton.
“Oh, shit,” were his first words on hearing the news. “Not another. All right, Kate, I’ll meet you there. I’ll call Mark.”
“Fine,” Kate said, already in the driver’s seat. She terminated the call and gunned the engine, fighting the urge to pull away from the kerb in a squeal of skidding tires.
Driving towards the college, she could feel her heartbeat in her throat. Not another suicide... Frantically she tried to recall Rav’s report on suicide clusters. How many more were there going to be? How could she – they – stop them? She was driving as fast as she could whilst still driving safely, swearing at the red traffic lights on the way, bit
ing her lip with impatience. She reached the car park of the college and saw, to her relief, that an ambulance was already there, blue lights strobing on the white walls of the main building. Kate parked carelessly, well away from the emergency vehicle, locked the car doors with a backwards wave of the key fob and ran towards the part of the building that Zac Downey had indicated.
The main door to the building was standing open and lights were blazing in the long corridor that led from the front to the back of the building. Kate just followed the noise; the hubbub of voices was coming from the cloakrooms that ran along the back of the building. She virtually skidded around a corner and saw at once that the paramedics were not needed. They were not even attempting resuscitation but just standing, looking down at the body she could see sprawled on the ground. Zac Downey was the one who was being attended to, sat on a bench with a foil blanket around his shoulders, one of the medical staff crouched down next to him, talking to him.
Kate approached quickly. Zac Downey looked up at her with wide, shocked eyes. She flashed her card, unnecessarily as it turned out. She recognised one of the paramedics as someone she knew slightly; Bill Mason, a stocky young guy with a soft West Country accent.
“Hi, Bill. What’s the dice? Not worth even trying?”
Bill shook his head regretfully. “She’s been dead for at least a couple of hours.”
Kate approached closer. She gave Zac Downey a quick pat on his silver-covered shoulder as she walked past and flashed him a sympathetic smile. He didn’t respond but after a moment closed his eyes, bowing his head.
Kate stood and looked down at the body. Another young girl, lying curled on her side, half her pale face in a grey-white patch of vomit. She didn’t look as though she were sleeping – she looked like a waxen reproduction of herself. Kate looked at her little pale hands, the fingers curled into the palm, the fingernails bluish, and swallowed down a queasy mix of pity and anger.
