by Roz Watkins
‘Shall we get sausages?’
He nodded and followed me as I re-traced my path, climbed the steps to the road, and walked the hundred yards or so to the main street.
Molly’s Café was open for business, but quiet. I settled Sebastian at a plastic table by the door, where I hoped his aroma wouldn’t come to the attention of Molly or her staff, and ordered two mugs of tea, two full English all-day breakfasts with extra sausages, and one veggie equivalent. Mine was just for the purpose of building rapport of course, and therefore calorie-free.
I brought the mugs of tea to our table. Sebastian sat on the chair nearest the door and fiddled with a ketchup container shaped like a mutant tomato. He looked like he was planning an escape, but I figured he’d stay until the sausages arrived.
‘Loads of sausages on the way,’ I said.
‘Poor Peter.’
I didn’t say anything, and focussed on him with my ears, not my eyes.
‘Poor Peter, he wasn’t feeling too good. Like me.’
I kept my voice quiet, and tried to sound like I didn’t really care about the answer. ‘What was up with Peter?’
‘He wanted… No, no, he didn’t.’
‘Sebastian, you’re not going to get into any trouble. And you can have sausages whenever you fancy.’
‘He was a successful failure.’
Uh-oh, back to the oxymorons. I took a gulp of tea.
‘He wasn’t happy,’ Sebastian said. ‘Not happy.’
‘No, he wasn’t happy.’
‘They’re watching us, you know. I can’t stay in that place. They watch us through the showers.’
The breakfasts arrived – piled high with extra sausages. Sebastian ate like he was on a paid mission. One plateful disappeared.
‘Do they? And why wasn’t Peter happy?’
‘His head was full like mine. He needed some weed.’
‘Is that what he wanted from you? Some weed?’
‘Weed for Peter. Yes. It was the kindest thing. I saw him with the spikes in him. He didn’t fall.’
‘Who did you see? Who didn’t fall?’ That had been too direct, damn it.
Sebastian glanced up at me with nervous eyes, like a hunted animal. ‘Are you one of them?’
‘No,’ I said, not looking directly at him. ‘They all say that.’
He pushed aside the plate from the first breakfast and started on the second. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the waitress staring. She brought over two more mugs of tea.
‘On the house,’ she said and shot off before I had a chance to thank her.
‘So, he didn’t fall,’ I said.
No answer. His eyes were glassy. He ate the second breakfast and all the toast, including mine.
‘Would you like another one?’ I asked. ‘Or a cake?’
He gave a quick shake of his head. I was relieved. It was like when you take in a stray dog. If you overdo the food, they puke on the carpet.
I paid quickly, with half an eye on Sebastian, and he was already standing when I returned to the table. I left a couple of pound coins by the tomato.
‘Back to the bridge now,’ Sebastian said.
I walked to the steps with him, trying and failing to extract more information. I waited at the top and watched him descend, hoping he had a sleeping bag. There was no point trying to persuade him to sleep at the hostel. It would just confirm I was one of them.
I waited while he found a spot, watched him walk around in circles like a cat preparing to nap, and turned to head back to my car. I tripped over my shoelace, swore, and squatted to re-tie it.
Was that the sound of voices? I froze. They were coming from under the bridge. The hairs on the back of my neck tingled. The voices were getting louder. Aggressive sounds, but I couldn’t make out any words. Then a shout. Sounding scared. Sounding like Sebastian.
I crept towards the steps and peered down. Caught snippets of sentences.
‘Tell the police and you’re fucking dead… Fucking retard…’
I could make out three of them in the gloom, all distinctly Neanderthal. They were shoving Sebastian towards the tunnel wall. He was hunched over with his head down.
‘. . . saying he didn’t fall… he fucking fell.’
One of them pushed Sebastian harder and he dropped to the floor. Another one kicked him. I looked around. No one.
I ran down the steps.
‘Police! Get off him.’
The men stepped away from Sebastian. One of them laughed. ‘Oh look, it’s the retard’s girlfriend.’
It was so dark I could hardly see them. There was a shuffling of feet. Sebastian brushed past me and ran off through the tunnel towards the steps I’d come down.
I sensed a hesitation. Two of them looked at the third as if for guidance, then one of them lunged at me. I dodged and bolted after Sebastian. Charged through the sand of the tunnel and started climbing the steps. Made it to the top, my breath rasping in my throat. Feet pounded behind me.
A smack on the back of my head. Oh God, not again. I hit the ground. A sharp pain in my nose. I shielded my head. Someone kicked my stomach. I was lifted off the floor by the back of my coat. I snapped my arm around and made hard contact with something.
‘Ow! Fucking bitch.’
He let go. I tried to drag myself away, but he caught hold of the back of my coat and slammed me against the stone wall that formed a boundary to the road. He lifted me by my coat, so my head was over the side of the railway bridge. I looked at the sickening drop. My breath came in hard bursts. My mind was full of the flashback again. Rope, ladders, dangling feet, panic, screaming. I was about to pass out. He lifted me higher.
Chapter 28
The tracks of the railway shimmered in the half-light far below. My terror turned to rage. I summoned all my strength, freed one of my arms and twisted round to face him. His breath smelt of hangovers and rancid meat. I stabbed hard at his eyes with my fingers. He yelped, let go of me and staggered back, clutching his head in his hands. I lunged at him and kicked his crotch with my big boots. He folded forwards and stumbled towards me.
‘Leave her, you wanker!’ One of the other men grabbed him and pulled him away. ‘He said to rough-up the homeless twat, not attack some bloody copper.’
‘She’s no fucking copper.’
I was poised for him to run back at me, surprising myself with my fury-induced strength.
But they ran away into the night, their steps loud in the still air.
I collapsed onto the floor and lay by the roadside. The concrete beneath me was like ice. I prised myself into a sitting position and dabbed gently at my face. There was blood, but it was seeping, not gushing.
All the fight had gone from me. I leant against the stone wall and let the tears flow. As the adrenaline began to wear off, the pain kicked in. Every time I breathed, there was a jabbing in my stomach, and the bump on my head sent spikes into my brain. I must have scraped my hand on the wall – a layer of skin had come off and it felt as if it was on fire.
I couldn’t face walking back to my car and driving with this hand. Mum’s house was only about a mile away but that was quite a walk in this state, and she hated driving at night. I rummaged around in my pocket and fished out my phone. The screen was cracked but it still worked. My fingers struggled to find their way but I managed to stab 737 and his number.
‘Meg? What’s up?’
‘I’m sorry. Are you busy?’
‘Jesus, what’s going on?’
I guess my voice sounded wrong. I explained the gist of the situation to him, and he told me to stay put. He was on his way.
I huddled into my coat and sat with my knees tucked to my chest, nursing my hand and trying to breathe shallowly.
After about fifteen minutes, I heard a car slowing and stopping. Surely it wasn’t Jai already. I lifted my head. Wow, that made my brain throb. It was him.
He jumped out and ran to me.
‘Holy crap, Meg.’
‘I’m fine,
’ I said.
‘You’re bloody not. Who did this to you? Where are uniform?’
‘I haven’t called them.’
Jai’s voice rose to an exasperated screech. ‘Why not?’
‘Please, Jai. Don’t call them. I’m okay.’
He helped me up and into the passenger seat, pushed the door shut with a soft clunk, ran to the driver’s side, and jumped in. ‘We have to call. See if they can pick them up.’
‘They’re long gone. I can’t even remember what they looked like. I was an idiot.’ I gasped and clutched my stomach. ‘Richard’ll think I’m a liability. Craig’ll think I’m a vulnerable little woman, and he’ll be on me like a lion taking out the weakest buffalo.’
‘But, Meg—’
‘Seriously, they’ll go mental over this. It’s not worth it. Please.’
Jai huffed. ‘I’ll take you to the hospital.’
‘No. Please. Just take me home. I’ll be okay.’
‘What if you’ve broken something? Or you’re bleeding internally? Or you’ve made your head injury worse?’
‘Honestly, take me home. I’ll review things in the morning.’
‘God, you’re unbelievable.’ But he set off towards Belper.
My head fell against the headrest and my mind went blank.
Jai used my keys to let us in and hurried to the kitchen to put the kettle on. I checked the living room, then trudged upstairs to check the bedrooms (stealthily so I didn’t have to explain myself) and use the loo. In the bathroom, I peeled up my T-shirt and prodded my stomach. Nothing seemed dangerously wrong. And my face didn’t look as bad as it felt. My hand was still burning but generally all the bits were in the right places. I swallowed two extra-strong painkillers and hobbled downstairs.
Jai was sitting on the chair in the living room, leaving the sofa for me. I lowered myself into it and he handed me a mug of tea.
‘Meg, why’s there a step ladder in the middle of your living room?’
‘Oh.’ I glanced at it. It squatted on the central rug where the coffee table should have been, dominating the room. A box of Quality Street balanced on the top platform. ‘I’ve been meaning to start working on my thing with heights. Counter-conditioning.’
‘In English?’
‘I’m going to climb a few steps and then reward myself with chocolate. But I’ve been putting it off. Move it into the hall, can you? I can’t face it right now.’
I looked up at the top of the ladder and noticed a cobweb the size of a dog trailing from the ceiling. Not a Chihuahua either – more of a spaniel. I didn’t like to remove cobwebs when fresh – where else were the spiders supposed to live and hunt? But this one looked distinctly vintage and it occurred to me that the house might need a bit of a clean. I hoped Jai wouldn’t be too horrified by me.
He stood and fiddled with the ladder. ‘You’re priceless.’ He manhandled it into the narrow hallway.
‘So…’ he said, on his return.
‘What?’
‘You thought it was a great idea to meet a tramp under a dodgy railway bridge after dark, and ask him lots of difficult questions about a murder, even though you’ve already fallen on your head and nearly been blown up this week?’
‘Come on Jai, I called you because I didn’t want to go through this with my mum. Sebastian was fine. It was just bad timing. Can we discuss the case, not how much of an irresponsible idiot I am?’ I held the mug with my good hand and took a sip of tea. He’d put sugar in it.
‘Stop grimacing. The sugar’s good for shock. Just drink it.’ Jai took a gulp of his own tea and a bite of a biscuit from a packet he must have found in the cupboard. ‘So, who did this to you?’
‘I don’t know. But I heard them threatening Sebastian. They didn’t want him talking to the police.’
Jai let out a deliberate sigh. ‘So, you heard them threatening Sebastian and you thought it was a good idea to pile in there, on your own. Two people are dead, Meg!’
‘Seriously, Jai. Leave it. There was no time to get back-up. What if they’d killed him?’
‘What if they’d killed you?’ Jai put down his tea with a thud.
I collapsed back onto the sofa and let out a slightly hysterical laugh.
‘What the hell are you on?’
‘Must be the painkillers,’ I said. ‘No, I was thinking of that Robin Williams sketch where he takes the piss out of the British police. You know, In England, if you commit a crime, the police don’t have a gun and you don’t have a gun. The police say, “Stop, or I’ll say stop again.” So, anyway, it didn’t work. I said, “Stop” and they hit me. And dangled me over the side of a railway bridge. Made me realise I really, really have a problem with heights.’
‘Jesus Christ, Meg.’
‘Anyway, I’m bored of my stupidity now. Sebastian’s been saying something about someone who didn’t fall. Did you notice in his interview? He said it again to me today. And the heavies were threatening him, trying to stop him saying that. And he said something about seeing him with spikes in him.’
Jai looked up from his tea. ‘Spikes in him? Was he in Cambridge when the guy fell off the roof?’
‘That’s what I’m wondering.’
‘Kate thinks Felix is dangerous. Could he have set the heavies on Sebastian?’
‘Yes, I think he could.’ I took a gulp of hot tea. Jai was right. The sugar was doing me good.
Jai sat up straighter in my slumpy chair. ‘I wonder if Peter started threatening to come clean about whatever happened on the roof in Cambridge, and Felix killed him, then realised Sebastian knows too, so is now threatening him? He might even have persuaded Sebastian to confess to Peter’s murder. For sausages.’
‘We should definitely check it out. But I don’t want us to zoom in too closely on Felix. You know about channelling, confirmation bias, inattention blindness, all that. We’re not immune.’
‘Don’t let Craig hear you spouting all that graduate psychology stuff. He’ll want to get Felix into the nick and bash him about until he confesses. Good old-fashioned policing.’
‘Too accurate to be funny.’ I forced down the last gulp of sweet tea and slapped the mug on the table. ‘God, this hand hurts.’
‘You’re being very brave.’
I felt tears welling up. I cleared my throat. ‘Did you check that permanent health insurance?’
‘Yeah, it does cover mental health issues and it was taken out about six months ago by Peter Hamilton, whereas the life insurance has been in place for years.’
‘That’s interesting. So, about a year ago, say, Peter starts developing some mental health problem or other. Something you take ABILIFY for – maybe schizophrenia. He thinks mental health problems are for the feeble-minded so he doesn’t tell anyone—’
‘He gets ABILIFY and some dodgy experimental drug from Lisa Bell in return for free patent work. She said the drug was for movement disorders, didn’t she?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Which can be an early sign of schizophrenia. Pass us one of those stale biscuits.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Sorry. I know you came here to rescue me, not to be given orders.’
‘Don’t worry, I know you can’t help yourself.’
‘No. Sorry. I’m a pain in the arse, I know.’
Jai smiled and shook his head slowly from side to side.
‘Anyway,’ I said. ‘He was getting medication from Lisa Bell and keeping his illness secret.’
‘Yeah. He probably also wanted to get the permanent health insurance in place, to give him a decent income if he was off work sick, but he needed to have had it in place a while before he told his doctor. Otherwise it wouldn’t have covered what he had.’ Jai took another biscuit. ‘How old are these? They’re rank.’
‘They were in the cupboard when I moved in. Already open. One had a bite out of it.’
‘Ugh, really?’ Jai dropped his biscuit.
‘No. They’re not fresh though. So, anyway, he kept it quiet but self-
medicated by drinking too much and smoking cannabis which he got from Sebastian. And he was acting different – his wife thought he was depressed, his colleagues noticed he was getting careless. And maybe the mental illness sort of changed his personality – he stopped being so cautious or something. Started talking about stuff that happened in Cambridge years ago.’
‘Yes,’ Jai said. ‘And he started asking questions about Rosie.’
My thoughts strayed to Kate. Could she really not know if Peter had been developing a serious mental illness? ‘His wife must know more than she’s letting on. She’s a doctor, for God’s sake.’
‘She could have killed him when she realised he was going off his rocker. Hoping to pocket the large insurance payment instead of getting lumbered with a mentally ill husband.’
‘Oh, what a rosy view of marriage you have, Jai.’
‘Based on experience, Meg. Based on bitter experience.’
*
Jai accepted my effusive gratitude and finally left around midnight, reassured that I wasn’t oozing blood from any part of my body or suffering from a life-threatening brain haemorrhage. He urged me to get up late in the morning, and promised to come over and drive me to pick up my car when I was ready.
I was so exhausted I couldn’t even face cleaning my teeth, but once in bed I couldn’t sleep. When I closed my eyes, I saw the tracks of the railway below me, felt the man’s hands on my neck, smelt his tobacco-breath.
I’d never in my life been scared of walking around at night on my own, and had always been irritated by the media making out women to be permanent victims, when most attacks were on young men. I’d certainly never worried about being in the house on my own. But this was different. If someone had put those heavies onto Sebastian to stop him talking, and now they knew I’d overheard, I was in danger. Beth could have been killed for knowing too much. I didn’t want to be next.
I can look after myself, I’d said to Jai. How ridiculous.
My stomach and head were so sore they invaded my dreams, and I slept badly and woke early. When I tried to lift my face from the pillow, nothing happened. I tried harder – no movement, just a sharp, wrenching sensation in my neck. I shuffled onto my front, slowly and painfully, and levered myself up onto all fours and then into a sitting position. I lifted my nightshirt and inspected the mottled patterns of different shades of black on my torso.
