by S J Bolton
‘They’d find a match?’ said the first man. ‘You’re kidding me. Won’t it just burn up?’
‘Nope. Match heads contain silica. Very tough compound.’
‘You learn something new every day.’
The two men crossed the road and made their way through the trees to a farm track where they’d left their own vehicle. They climbed inside and drove away. Since they’d left the ruined BMW, neither had looked back.
Nine o’clock arrived and Tox went off to find her boyfriend. Nine thirty followed and I’d heard nothing from Joesbury. My heartbeat went into overdrive at nine forty-five when there was a knock on the door. I shot across the room to open it. Nick Bell stood in the doorway. ‘Hi,’ he said.
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked him. I’d never seen him look so serious.
He put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Can I come in?’ he asked.
I didn’t want Nick anywhere near me but I had a sense something had happened. I stepped back and let him come inside. He came close and looked down at me, as though he wanted to kiss me but wasn’t quite sure about himself.
‘I’m afraid I’ve got bad news,’ he said.
Joesbury was the first thought in my head. Ridiculous. Nick didn’t know Joesbury, had no idea I was supposed to have a brother. I told myself to get a grip and nodded at Nick to go on.
‘Bryony died two hours ago,’ he said. ‘She took her own life.’
I could not overreact. Laura would be sad, sympathetic, nothing more.
‘I’m sorry,’ I managed. ‘I know she was important to you.’
Nick held out his arms. I stepped into them and hugged him, knowing I had to play my part to the end. ‘What happened?’ I asked.
He pulled away from me and crossed to Talaith’s desk. ‘There was an emergency in the unit,’ he said. ‘Everyone was occupied. She managed to get out of bed, pulled away all the lines and tubes. All the alarms went off, of course, but it was just chaos. By the time someone got to her, she’d opened the window and jumped out.’
I couldn’t think of anything to say, because the only thought going through my head was that they’d got her, after all.
‘There was blood around the sink,’ Nick went on. ‘We think she went to the mirror, saw herself properly for the first time and couldn’t deal with it.’
They’d got her. They were winning, on every front.
‘She was a medical student,’ Nick was saying. ‘She knew the score about her injuries, about what the future held. Sorry, you don’t want to hear all this.’
I wasn’t interested in the possibility that it might be for the best, that Bryony would have had no sort of life, as damaged as she was. All I could think about was that keeping these girls alive had become my job. And I’d failed.
‘I’ve got a lot to do,’ Nick said. ‘There’s always a lot of admin when someone dies. And I’ve left messages for her parents so I need to be around if they get back to me. Can we do supper another time?’
‘Of course,’ I said, relieved not to have to come up with an excuse. ‘I’ve got a lot on myself. Why don’t I walk you to the gate?’
How had they done it? There had been some final trigger, something that had pushed her over the edge. I had to find out who’d visited her that day. Apart from George and the man at my side. I couldn’t go back to the hospital, though. I had to wait for Joesbury.
Snow was beginning to fall again as we crossed First Court.
‘Do roads round here get blocked in the snow?’ I asked Nick. Joesbury had been gone for four hours already.
‘Only when it takes the authorities by surprise,’ said Nick. Then he looked up. ‘These flakes are tiny,’ he went on. ‘I doubt we’re in for another big dump.’
‘Good,’ I said, wanting to look at my watch. At that moment, a nearby church clock struck the hour. We stepped through the tiny wooden door into the street and he turned to face me. I forced a shiver that quickly turned into a real one.
‘You need to get back inside,’ he said. ‘See you soon.’
I let him kiss me and tried not to pull away too quickly. Then I watched him walk a few paces down the road, giving him a cute, girly wave when he looked round, before turning back towards First Court.
I walked quickly across and through into Second Court, pulling my new phone out of my pocket, even though I’d have heard it if there’d been any sort of message left. Where the hell was Joesbury? Four hours! He should have been back by now.
By ten o’clock, Evi knew there was nothing more she could do for Jessica that night. She’d been transferred to a secure psychiatric wing of the hospital, her parents were with her, and she’d been given sedatives to ensure a good night’s sleep. With a bit of luck, it would also be a dreamless one.
As she was making her way out through the hospital’s main reception, her phone rang. Megan Prince. Conscious of her heartbeat picking up pace, Evi gave herself a second.
‘Hello, Meg.’
‘Evi, hi. Can you talk?’ Megan’s usual breezy voice seemed to be pitched lower than normal.
‘Of course. What’s up?’
‘Can we meet tomorrow, first thing? I’ve no appointments till ten. Can I swing by your place at nine?’
No. Somewhere there’d be people.
‘I have to be at the office early tomorrow, but I can see you there at nine. Will that do?’
‘Yeah, that’ll be fine. Great. See you there, Evi.’
She’d gone. OK, what was all that about? Megan had never just asked to see her out of the blue before. Should she tell Laura? Maybe have her on hand?
Evi wheeled herself across the car park, thinking perhaps that she wouldn’t tell Laura until afterwards. It might be nothing, and in any case, what could happen in an office full of people?
She drove home, exhausted and hurting but, oddly, in better spirits than she’d known for some time. She told herself it was finding Jessica alive and OK. Deep down she knew it was because of the conversation she’d had earlier with Laura. I’d call him if I were you. Suddenly, Evi could no longer remember why calling Harry was impossible.
The dog was waiting just inside her front door.
‘Hey, Sniffy,’ Evi said, and was rewarded with a softly nuzzling nose and a brown-eyed look that told her she was the only important person in the world. Sniffy followed her into the kitchen and Evi opened the back door to let her out. For the first time, she realized that handing Sniffy back to her owners, when they showed up, was going to be quite hard.
She switched on the kettle and her computer. Just as the water came to the boil, a series of pinging sounds told her she had several new emails. Most were work related, one a jokey round robin from her cousin. The one that caught her eye was from a woman in Lancashire, whose young son Evi had treated the year before. It had an attachment. Alice never sent her emails. Letters occasionally, phone calls from time to time, but this was the first email Evi had ever received from her. She only knew one Alice Fletcher, though. Evi clicked it open. The attachment was a newspaper article, a cutting from the Lancashire Telegraph.
Dearest Evi,
I expect you’ve heard the terrible news. I don’t doubt you were as shocked and saddened as we were. We can tell ourselves that God takes to himself those he loves the best but, ultimately, I’m not sure there’s any meaning to be found in such events.
Anyway, I thought you would like to see the story that appeared in this week’s Telegraph. Doesn’t do him justice, of course, but what would? There’s talk of a memorial service in the church. I’ll keep you posted.
Love and miss you still,
Alice
A minute later, a cold dry hand had reached inside Evi’s chest and taken hold of her heart. Any second now she was going to open her mouth and howl, but how could that happen when there wasn’t any breath left in her body?
The newspaper story talked of a wonderful man, a man of God, who had been deeply loved and respected by all who’d known him; a man who’d been taken too soon
, in the very prime of his life, by a freak climbing accident. There were details of his career, the various ecclesiastical and research posts he’d held, there was even a photograph. Evi took in none of it. At the same time, she understood everything.
Harry was dead.
I LEFT ST JOHN’S, walked along bridge street and turned into Thompson’s Lane where I knew I’d find the Varsity Hotel. There were two young night porters at the desk.
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘I’m Laura Farrow. Has anyone left a message for me?’
One looked blank, the other cast his eyes over the desk in front of him. ‘I can’t see anything,’ he said in an eastern European accent. ‘What was the name of the guest?’
Very good question. I had no idea what undercover name Joesbury used.
‘Mr Johnson?’ I tried, because I knew initials usually remained the same. The boy looked at the screen in front of him. ‘We have a Mr Jackson,’ he told me.
‘Is he in?’ I asked, grasping at straws. The boy turned to the key hooks on the wall behind him. ‘No,’ he said, turning back to me. ‘His key is here.’
Thanking the boys, I went outside again. Joesbury had hinted there were more undercover officers in the city but I hadn’t a hope of tracking them down. If I phoned Scotland Yard and told them who I was they would probably put me through to SO10. But that could be completely the wrong thing to do. Don’t trust the police, Joesbury had told me.
OK, I wasn’t going to panic. Joesbury was more than capable of taking care of himself. Sniffy was looking after Evi. Jessica was safe in a secure psychiatric ward. Bryony was beyond our help. It looked like I was next on the list and I certainly wasn’t about to take my own life. I just had to sit tight.
Back at college, hot tea felt very appealing but mindful of Evi’s theory that I’d been drugged I wasn’t taking any chances. I brushed my teeth, drank some water from the tap and got ready for bed. I switched the light out and wondered if I’d ever fall asleep. Then a thought hit me.
According to Talaith, Bryony had been most scared of losing her looks. She’d dreamed about disfigurement. What if the fire had never been meant to kill her? What if that was just the last stage of the physical and psychological torture? What if all someone had done earlier today was to make sure the window of her room wasn’t locked and show her a mirror?
The beeping of a text message coming into my phone nearly made me leap out of bed. I grabbed it from the bedside shelf. Joesbury. Oh, thank God.
Delayed, it said. Sit tight. Don’t contact anyone but me.
Oh, thank God, thank God. As I muttered it over and over in my head, the world slipped away.
The man who now had Mark Joesbury’s mobile phone put it down softly on the desk in front of him. ‘We have another twenty-four hours maximum,’ he said. ‘Is she out yet?’
A screen on the computer in front of him flickered to life and he was looking at a picture of a young woman in bed, apparently asleep.
‘Should be,’ he was told. ‘There was enough stuff in there to knock out an elephant.’
‘Are we going in?’ asked the third man in the room.
The man at the desk shook his head. ‘Not sure.’
‘Last chance, and at least we know that ruddy dog’s out of the way.’
‘Too risky. There’s someone else sniffing around. We’ll finish her off tomorrow.’
‘What about Evi Oliver?’
‘She’s had no real pain relief for three weeks now and we’ve been playing with her head till she hardly knows what day it is. According to Meg, she’s on the verge of losing it.’
‘Is that good? We haven’t had her to the unit yet.’
‘We may have to pass on that. There isn’t time to use them both and getting her out of the way was always the priority.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘Besides, Laura is the one I’ve set my heart on.’
Tuesday 22 January
‘LAURA! LAURA, I need you to wake up.’
A voice, a hand reaching down to me through the darkness. I had to get up there. Just wanted to sleep.
‘I may have to call an ambulance. Can someone get me my bag?’
A hand, lightly slapping my cheek. Evi’s hand. I could almost see her pale heart-shaped face above mine. It was shimmering, in and out of focus, and I knew she really wanted to talk to me. Oh, but sleep felt so good.
‘Thanks,’ said Evi’s voice again. ‘Stay with her, keep talking to her.’
A different person with me now. One of the girls in the block. I could see her long dark hair and creamy skin. Brown eyes looking into mine. The room was slowly coming into focus.
‘I’m OK,’ I told her and, with her help, discovered I could sit. I was in my room in St John’s. Another girl was hovering in the main room. No sign of Tox. Then Evi appeared in the doorway.
‘I’m OK,’ I repeated, not sure I could manage much more. It felt like I was talking through a thick mesh screen. A fly screen, or some of that frosted glass you see in bathroom windows. I was sinking again. ‘No ambulance,’ I forced out.
Evi looked as though she were about to argue then turned to the other girls. ‘Thanks, both of you,’ she told them. ‘Can I give you a call if I need you again?’
Puzzled but obedient, the girls accepted their dismissal and left the room.
‘I’ve been phoning you and phoning you,’ Evi told me once we were alone. ‘I was nearly frantic when you didn’t call back.’
I pulled the covers back and swung my legs round. The room started spinning and I had to close my eyes for a second. When I opened them, the bedside clock told me it was nine thirty in the morning.
‘What’s happened?’ said Evi. ‘Do you want me to call someone?’
‘Give me a minute,’ I said. Jesus, I had to get a grip.
Working on autopilot I found a tracksuit and trainers and pulled them on. Evi started to say something and then thought better of it but from the look on her face she wasn’t going to stay quiet for long. Just getting dressed practically exhausted me. When I was done I sat back down on the bed again.
‘Looks like you were right,’ I said. ‘About the drugs. I’ve taken something. Don’t ask me how or when, but …’
‘We need to get you to hospital …’ Evi began.
‘No time,’ I interrupted. ‘And I think I’m OK. I just feel seriously hungover. Fresh air, coffee, something to eat, I’ll be fine.’ To prove a point, I managed to stand up without swaying. ‘Buttery?’ I suggested. I really needed to get out of that room. Evi, though, was showing no inclination to leave.
‘How are they doing it?’ she said, looking round. ‘Tell me everything you did last night.’
Leaning against the door, I did, including the fact that I’d eaten nothing and drunk nothing but tap water all evening. She wheeled her chair closer to the sink.
‘Tap water’s impossible,’ she muttered to herself. ‘And if they’d let themselves in and stuck a syringe in your arm, you’d have woken.’
She reached out, picked up my toothpaste and sniffed it.
I shook my head. ‘Toothpaste? You’re kidding me.’
‘LSD is typically taken on small pieces of blotting paper that sit on the tongue,’ she told me. ‘Drugs are absorbed very quickly in the mouth,’ she went on. ‘Did you use mouthwash?’
I nodded.
Evi put both toothpaste and mouthwash into her bag and zipped it shut. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
We made our way to the Buttery and found strong coffee for both of us and toast for me. I was feeling better all the time. Still pretty bad, but improving. Evi, though, didn’t appear to be. It was as though her rescue of me had worn her out. Her face was pink and swollen, her eyes bloodshot. Every wrinkle in her face told me she was in pain and her voice was that of a woman who was seriously ill. Or one who’d spent the night crying.
‘You heard about Bryony?’ I asked her, when we were both settled at a table some distance from everyone else.
She nodded.
‘This morning.’ There didn’t seem much more we could say.
‘How’s Jessica?’ I asked.
‘Alive,’ she replied. ‘I guess everything else is a bonus, right now.’
‘Has she talked at all?’
Evi nodded. ‘That’s why I’ve been trying to contact you. She got quite agitated late yesterday evening. A lot of it was just the usual stuff about clowns, clowns chasing her, clowns attacking her, clowns hanging by the neck from trees, the sort of stuff she’s been having bad dreams about.’
The world still seemed to be operating in slow motion. Or maybe that was just me. I closed my eyes for a second, took a few deep breaths.
‘And a dog. She kept talking about a dog. How she’d managed to get away and hide in a ditch but the dog had found her.’
The room was spinning. I opened my eyes again, and realized Evi had stopped talking and was just staring into space. It was as though she’d left the room. Her body was still sitting across the table, but Evi herself had gone somewhere else entirely.
‘Evi?’ I said. Her dark-blue eyes flicked back to me. They were swimming with tears. ‘You were talking about Jessica?’ I prompted.
Evi gave herself a little shake. ‘Yes, then she started talking about her room at St Catharine’s,’ she said. ‘How it was her room but wasn’t her room, how they’d changed it, turned it bad, and how they were watching her all the time.’
‘Sounds just like Bryony.’
‘That’s what I thought. That’s why I needed to see you. The other thing is that Megan Prince phoned last night asking to see me today. I went to meet her at nine o’clock but she didn’t show. She’s not answering her phone either but I don’t want to make it too obvious I’m chasing her.’
‘No,’ I agreed. ‘Let her get in touch with you again.’
She nodded. ‘Yes, that’s what I figured.’
‘Evi,’ I said, ‘has something else happened to you? Frankly, you look like I feel.’
Evi stared at me for a moment, then shook her head. ‘Bad news from home,’ she said. ‘I can deal with it. I’m fine.’
