Either Side of Midnight (The Midnight Saga Book 1)

by Tori de Clare

  Naomi giggled. ‘Some things never change. I bet my mum’s put me at one end of the table and Nathan at the other.’

  ‘Who knows? Look, got to dash. I’ll see you all tomorrow. Who are you bringing apart from Nathan?’

  ‘My three flat mates and a girl called Siobhan.’

  ‘OK, look forward to it.’

  Naomi put her phone away. She hadn’t noticed anyone drop down next to her while she was talking, she only knew now that her attention was undivided that someone was standing up and walking away from her. He was wearing a grey hooded top and had mousey brown hair. He was almost as wide as he was tall, not fat, but muscle-locked. Huge trunk of a neck. Naomi was glaring at his back in black tracksuit bottoms and white trainers. His elbows were sticking out as if he had his hands in pockets at the front of his top.

  Food forgotten, Naomi stood up and started to follow him, keeping a safe distance. She weaved between bodies making sure she didn’t gain or lose any ground. What am I doing? She wondered if she actually wanted to talk to him. Did she intend to confront him? The fact that she was pursuing meant that she intended to do something, but she didn’t know what. Maybe if she could just get a glimpse of his face . . .

  A couple with a pram crossed her path. Distracted for a moment, she slowed. A toy was flung from the pram. It landed close to Naomi’s feet. The mother stopped to pick it up and hand it back, giving Naomi chance to clock that it was a baby boy with huge blue eyes and long lashes. When the pram moved on, hoodie-guy had gone. Naomi stumbled forward, eyes searching, clutching her carrier bag containing Annie’s present, a small Japanese-English dictionary and a Manchester United sweater to remind her of home.

  Someone seized her left arm suddenly. She glanced across and was confronted with the side of a grey hood.

  ‘Look ahead,’ he insisted in an unmistakable Manchester accent that sounded nasal. Naomi obeyed and looked ahead. She had no words. She anxiously tried to make eye-contact with passing strangers. No one noticed her.

  ‘I warned you to watch your back, Naomi,’ he said, confirming who he was.

  Naomi turned cold. He still had hold of her and was guiding her along in a stream of disinterested bodies.

  ‘How do you know me?’ Naomi managed.

  He didn’t answer.

  ‘What do you want?’ Naomi tried again, terrified of him taking her from the buzz of the crowds to somewhere more secluded. She was prepared to scream and yell if necessary.

  ‘To deliver a message.’

  ‘What message?’

  ‘Next message won’t be words – that is the message. I’m leaving. Don’t attract attention and don’t try to follow me or have me followed. If you involve the police, I’ll know. So don’t. Understood?’

  Naomi took three more faltering steps. All she could feel was relief that he was leaving. ‘Yes.’

  He let go and vanished through a set of steel doors that led to the car park. Naomi watched the doors snap shut and made sure he didn’t return through them.

  For minutes she stood, trembling, looking about her, expecting people to notice she was in pieces. They didn’t. A normal Friday lunchtime carried on. People laughed, ate, talked on their phones. Music spewed from the nearest shop. It was like she was invisible and was observing from a bubble.

  Struggling to breathe evenly, she eventually exited the building and began the long walk back towards the sanctuary of her little room. She pictured it as she hurried along, stealing nervous glances over both shoulders. She couldn’t wait to be sitting on her unmade bed looking at the pile of clothes beneath her desk which had irritated her only that morning. Her dirty bathroom cluttered with used towels and scattered toilet roll tubes, would be a glorious sight now.

  Every step, she expected him to reappear. Every person wearing a dove grey top was him. Every shoulder that brushed against her was a threat. After the most uneasy walk she could remember, she saw the familiar shimmer of the college windows in the distance and quickened her pace, feeling a rush of warm feelings for the place. The closer she got, the more the vice slackened inside her chest. She saw an orange bush not far away. She’d recognise it anywhere. She broke into a run and caught hold of Siobhan’s arm from behind.

  Siobhan swung round defensively, face anxious. ‘Oh, it’s you. You scared me half to death.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘What’s wrong? You’re as white as a sheet, only mine aren’t too white since I washed them with my favourite blue jumper.’

  Naomi shook her head and kept hold of Siobhan’s arm, which was fleshy and comforting. It reminded her of her grandma’s arm and disturbed faint memories of bedtime stories from when she was little, in the days before South Africa. The memories came with some childlike feelings she tried to hang on to, but couldn’t. They blurred like a chalk picture in rain, then washed away.

  ‘Something awful just happened. Can I tell you inside?’

  ‘OK.’

  Naomi reached the halls of residence with Siobhan. She’d never felt so close to her unusual friend. Her sanctuary was in sight at last. Or was it a sanctuary? The question sneaked in and caused the euphoria to slide. Relief converted into a sickening kind of anxiety that stirred in the pit of her stomach. He knew where she lived. He’d seen where she studied. What else did the man in the grey top know about her? What if he returned with his knife?

  They trooped to Naomi’s room without speaking, as if what Naomi was about to say warranted a suspenseful kind of silence to set the scene.

  Naomi sank into her bed and breathed easily. Siobhan perched on the piano chair and looked as though she wasn’t breathing at all. She’d frozen, hands clasped together on her lap. She was a ghastly white colour apart from the freckles.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Siobhan asked, tone suspicious.

  ‘Remember the guy with the knife?’

  Siobhan’s cheeks flushed pink. A fire broke out on her neck. ‘I wish I could forget. Built like a bus? Grey jacket? Light brown hair? Have you seen him?’

  Naomi glared through Siobhan, eyes focussed beyond her. ‘I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about anyway.’

  ‘What do you mean? Have you seen him, Naomi?’ She was pushing her long fingernails together and sliding them inside each other.

  ‘I’ve seen him just now and a couple of other times. He followed me to the shops today. It’s me he’s after, Siobhan. Me. That day in the college, he’ll have been looking for me.’

  Siobhan had taken to nervously rotating her grandmother’s wedding band. ‘Holy crap.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Siobhan’s cheeks were glowing. It seemed like her hair was burning too. ‘You know for sure?’

  ‘He knows my name. He told me the next message won’t be words.’

  ‘Holy crap,’ she said again, covering her face with both hands. ‘So, what are we going to do now?’

  ‘I really don’t know,’ Naomi said, feeling the sudden urge to visit the loo. ‘Puts performance into perspective, ey?’

  ‘I’ll say,’ Siobhan nodded slowly. ‘So? Are we going to call the police?’

  ‘No. No, not yet. I’m going to give it some thought while I’m home this weekend.’

  ‘Puts a real downer on your birthday party.’

  ‘No it doesn’t. I won’t let it,’ Naomi said with more confidence and optimism than she felt.

  What she was simultaneously thinking was that it was time to tell Nathan she had a problem. The man in the grey top had made his intentions so clear, denial was a luxury she couldn’t afford anymore. The thought of a visit home was suddenly appealing. ‘I’m going to enjoy this weekend and put him out of my mind.’

  Siobhan’s mouth twitched the way it did when she was attempting a smile. ‘Good for you.’

  After only a short pause, Siobhan screamed and pointed wildly at the floor, making Naomi jump. She removed her shoe and rushed to the offending spot and whacked the floor three times.

  ‘Got it,’ Siobhan said, panting.


  Naomi sat forward and looked down and couldn’t speak. Sydney, her inoffensive little roommate, had just become an ex-spider.

  16

  CAPTIVITY

  It was the night that changed everything, Sunday, twelfth September. A storm broke out. Naomi woke up from a vivid dream, disturbed in every way by a furious scratching noise at the window. In her dream, Nathan had found her. He’d slid her rings down her finger and returned her necklace and told her he loved her and had missed her like crazy. The eerie scratching noise had snatched him away, just as he had begun kissing her passionately.

  She could still feel the sensation of his lips against hers as she sat up panting, wanting him so desperately, she ached. She was tempted to collapse into tears, but held them off. She took stock, remembering where she was, realising after careful listening, that the hair-raising noise was only a tree with wind-bent branches against the window. It sounded like fingernails against a chalkboard. The wind came in violent gusts, howling savagely through the keyhole in the French doors. The sky must have been a huge dark blanket blocking out the moon and stars. She couldn’t see anything at all. It was inky black, no landing light on like there usually was. There was normally a light on somewhere outside too. Not anymore. Naomi couldn’t see her own hand in front of her face.

  She got up and groped her way into the bathroom, finding the light-pull. She tugged sharply, but nothing happened. The power was down. For a moment, she was back in the boot of the car, the night of the wedding. She staggered back to the bed, the blackness wrapping around her mouth and throat, making her fight for air. She lifted her hands to her face, dragging the chains with her. They seemed so heavy while she felt so weak. She concentrated only on breathing, one intake of air at a time, one release. She repeated. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. Her head was light. A feeling of sickness was spreading. She breathed harder, gulping air, scared of blacking out.

  ‘Help me. Help me,’ she heard herself saying. But her voice was distant. She sounded like someone else. A torrent of rain whipped the glass. The wind hurled it against the window until she couldn’t hear her own voice. She was gripping the bed covers between her fingers, nails digging into her palms.

  She hadn’t heard the key turn in the door, or seen the door open, but suddenly she sensed someone was with her in the room. She held her breath, wondering if it was her imagination. The bed lowered as someone sat down carefully, confirming her suspicions.

  Naomi started to breathe more steadily. After a while, the sickness eased. Her breathing steadied to normal, which confused her. Something was telling her she should be panicking, but the presence of another person was having the opposite effect.

  The rain continued to pelt the glass. A crack of thunder almost shook the house. She wasn’t afraid anymore, but suspected she should be. She reached out and found a warm body. His chest was hard beneath a thin top. Her hand moved up to a muscular shoulder and down a defined bicep until she met with the flesh of his lower arm. It was so familiar.

  ‘Nathan?’

  Either he didn’t answer, or she couldn’t hear him against the driving rain. Needing to get closer, Naomi shuffled toward the heat of his body. Her fingers reached out and touched his face, meeting with rough stubble around his mouth. In contrast, his hair was soft. She pulled it gently through her fingers. A blinding flash of light revealed him for a micro-moment. She’d moved so close, she only really got a glimpse of his eyes. They were Nathan’s at their most blue, but his hair had grown down his forehead. The darkness covered him again. She returned to his face, fingering the contours of his eyes, nose, cheekbones, mouth.

  ‘Nathan,’ Naomi said, having to raise her voice to be heard.

  He put his mouth to her ear and breathed. ‘Don’t be afraid.’

  ‘I’ve missed you so much,’ she said.

  His arms surrounded her, squeezing her to him, tracing her spine with one finger. She couldn’t hold him the way she wanted to. The chains held her wrists, making it impossible.

  Water started dripping from the ceiling onto the bed and into her hair in huge cold droplets. He took hold of her wrists and fumbled around in the darkness until her hands were free. She enjoyed the freedom of rotating her wrists, but they ached and felt cold. Naomi found herself being lifted off the bed into his arms. She hoped she wasn’t dreaming. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tucked her head beneath his chin.

  ‘I knew you’d find me.’

  She expected him to head for the stairs and to take her away from this house, but as he walked through the door and out onto a creaky landing, another spark of light revealed a white wooden banister, a green carpet, a black window with sliding rain in straight lines, and two other doors. The vision was gone in a heartbeat. During her brief escape, she hadn’t taken in any details about the landing.

  He walked past the stairs and carefully guided her through a doorway inside another room and laid her on a bed. The thunder was drawing closer and becoming ferocious. The bed was still warm. Whose bed? When he placed her down, he didn’t join her. She didn’t know where he was.

  ‘Nathan?’ she hissed.

  A long pause. ‘I’m here,’ she heard, faintly. It was definitely Nathan’s familiar voice, but he wasn’t close.

  ‘Lie next to me.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  Naomi didn’t understand. ‘You’re not leaving?’

  She had a long wait for the answer. ‘I have to.’

  ‘No.’ She leapt up and found him after two paces. Her arms circled his neck, but he stood stiffly. ‘I’m so cold. Hold me, please,’ she begged. ‘Don’t go.’

  She rested her head against his chest and listened to the rhythm. After a short delay, his arms folded around her again, pressing her tightly with his large hands that spread easily across her back, warming her body. Her arms tightened around his neck. They breathed against each other. His pulse was quickening. After more than a week alone, she was melting. It wasn’t enough. She guided his face towards hers. She could feel his breath on her now, but he was resisting a connection.

  ‘Kiss me.’

  She was waiting, eyes sealed, when another intense flash of lightening came and went. It left her seeing spots of white light. She felt the first contact as their lips touched. Sensing his reluctance, she held him there. Her fingers ran through his hair and twisted. She pressed the back of his head until the contact was firmer. Finally he responded and parted his lips, pressing tentatively at first, then more readily than she was used to. She was eager to match him. This was a different Nathan. His kisses, normally reserved and controlled, had never stirred her like this. It held the excitement and intensity of the first time, but better. She was sure that they’d never really lost themselves in each other until now. She couldn’t feel the cold anymore. The trauma of the past week lost impact. Resistance gone, she pushed her fingers more roughly into his hair, knowing she couldn’t hold back as she had in the past. Knowing she didn’t need to.

  As they stumbled towards the bed, she found herself tugging at his top. Clothes were a barrier. He took hold of her wrists and unpeeled them from him and stepped back. ‘No,’ he said, breathing hard. ‘No. Stop.’

  His voice was throaty. She was barely tuned in to it when she wanted him so badly. Naomi reached out and found him. ‘We’re married now.’

  He pulled free and moved back. ‘Listen to what you’re saying.’

  The tone of his voice shocked her, but Naomi still stumbled after him in the dark. The rain was easing into a more steady patter. The thunder was moving on. As she found him, he took hold of her arms and held them firmly.

  ‘You’re confusing me, Nathan.’

  ‘That wasn’t the intention.’

  ‘Don’t you want me?’ she asked.

  As the rain reduced further, there was an uneasy stretch of quiet. ‘Not while you think I’m someone else.’

  Naomi stood, feeling the strength of his arms holding her. She couldn’t clear her head. She
felt no fear, just a deep sense of pain that weighed her down until she couldn’t stand. He supported her as she fell onto him and broke down.

  ‘You told me you were Nathan.’

  ‘You knew I wasn’t him.’

  ‘No,’ she yelled, sobbing. ‘No. I saw you.’ Naomi started pounding his chest with her fists. He allowed it and stood firm, not moving or defending himself. Naomi felt her knees buckle and she collapsed onto the floor.

  He reached down and gathered her up and set her down on the bed. She curled into a tight ball. She assumed he was still standing there, waiting behind his veil of silence. Light flooded the room from the landing. Power returned in a burst that left Naomi squinting. She was lying on a double bed facing a window with closed blue curtains. An alarm started up somewhere.

  It was like returning to the real world from a land of dreams. She heard him fly from the room and down the stairs to quieten it. Naomi sat up, frantically wiping her eyes, forcing herself to think. There was no time to regret things or think about the consequences. She was free.

  She leapt from the bed and ran out onto the landing. He was already striding up the stairs, two at a time. She froze as she looked at the top of his head, her senses sharp and alert, heart pounding. He raised his head and looked at her. He stopped too. She could only stare. He was young with clear skin, defined cheek bones and a strong jaw line. He had Nathan’s eyes, though his mouth and nose were set differently. His hair was darker, longer and had more movement, but he was as tall and as well-built. She couldn’t stop looking at him.

  ‘Dan?’

  He gripped hold of the stair rail. His eyes closed for a long moment, then opened. They were bluer than Nathan’s and striking against his darker hair and eyebrows. His voice finally made sense. She’d heard it occasionally in the background when she’d been on the phone to Nathan, that deep voice of Dan’s. Why hadn’t she realised the obvious? Even his movements mirrored Nathan’s now she thought about it, and the shape and size of his hands, which she’d watched every day.