Either Side of Midnight (The Midnight Saga Book 1)

by Tori de Clare

Naomi found her tongue and answered for him. ‘Nathan Stone. He’s my fiancé,’ she said softly, discreetly swapping the ring onto the other hand, then shifting to Nathan’s side. She took his hand without taking her eyes off Tom. Nathan squeezed it firmly, no need for words. ‘Nathan, this is Tom Butterworth.’

  ‘I should have guessed.’

  ‘Your fiancé?’ Tom said, not quietly. ‘Since when?’

  Nathan edged closer to Tom. He was a couple of inches taller and far more athletically built. ‘None of your business.’

  ‘Fiancé?’ came a voice behind Naomi. It was so filled with horror, Naomi didn’t recognise it.

  She turned. Annabel stood hands on hips. ‘I thought I was coming to have a word with you about your boyfriend, but fiancé? What the hell?’

  Naomi could feel her cheeks colouring. This was exactly the reaction she’d been dreading from Annabel.

  ‘Annie, I was going to tell you about us, but –’

  ‘But what, Naomi?’ Annabel shouted. Her stare was intense, face set tight. ‘You thought maybe you’d get him to come on to me first, so he could humiliate me and knock me back and tell me he was my twin’s boyfriend?’

  ‘I did not come on to you,’ Nathan intervened. ‘I asked you for a quiet word. That isn’t an invitation, Annabel. You led me into Naomi’s piano room. I just wanted the chance to properly explain that Naomi and I are together.’

  ‘You took my arm,’ Annabel said, forcefully.

  ‘I propped you up so you didn’t collapse,’ Nathan said, quietly but firmly.

  ‘This is priceless coming from her,’ Tom piped up, eyeing Annabel. The room hushed except for the drama going on in the centre of it. All the strength drained from Naomi. All eyes were on them. There wasn’t a hole in the floor to crawl into, but she looked for one anyway. Camilla had just returned with Lorie and Simon. ‘She did exactly the same thing with me, then blamed me for it. She’s unbelievable.’

  Annabel turned her attention to Tom, the shock of seeing him registering for the first time. ‘And what the hell is he doing here?’ she yelled, pointing at him, fixing a glare. ‘How dare you tell Naomi about that?’

  ‘She knows. She’s always known,’ Tom yelled back. ‘She was there that night, Annabel. She heard everything.’

  ‘You, with Tom?’ Nathan asked Annabel. ‘How could you do that?’ He turned to Naomi. His voice softened. ‘Why didn’t you tell me it was Annabel?’

  Naomi said nothing. Camilla charged forward, red-necked. She reached the scene. ‘Now, let’s sort this out calmly, and privately.’ She threw Henry a vicious look then lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Not another word in here, you four. Hear me? Follow.’

  Camilla marched for the door. Tom, looking bewildered, filed behind. Naomi, still attached to Nathan, followed. It was a long ten paces. At the door, Camilla turned and paused, waiting for Annabel, who hadn’t moved. Her arms were crossed. After a wordless glare, Annabel followed too.

  ‘Music, Henry.’

  Without speaking, Camilla led them, heels clicking, to Naomi’s large piano room, which had an assortment of chairs and a display cabinet holding music trophies and certificates. Dance music started up in the dining room. Camilla closed the door and indicated for everyone to find a seat while she remained standing. Everyone sat down. She allowed a tense silence while she eyed them all individually.

  ‘I’m utterly speechless,’ she eventually said, pausing to purse her lips.

  ‘I doubt that,’ Annabel muttered.

  ‘Not another word from you until you’re spoken to,’ Camilla snapped. She glared at Annabel until she looked away. Then Camilla found Tom. ‘I suspect you started this.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ Tom protested mildly.

  Camilla cut in. ‘I should have allowed Loretta to throw you out, instead of which I gave you an opportunity and a specific instruction not to speak to either of my daughters tonight. Which part of that didn’t you understand?’

  ‘Knowing he was my ex-boyfriend, why did you let him stay?’ Naomi came in, voice shaky. ‘What was he even doing here in the first place?’

  ‘By some cruel coincidence I managed to book a string quartet which included him.’

  ‘Or were you hoping I’d get back with him and finish with Nathan?’ Naomi asked.

  ‘Of course not,’ Camilla said, outraged. ‘After what happened with Tom, I knew there was no chance of that.’

  ‘How do you know what happened?’ Annabel said, despite the warning.

  Camilla’s neck glowed. She paused. ‘Naomi’s diary.’

  ‘What?’ Annabel and Naomi yelled in unison. They were incapable of any more.

  The word hung a while until Tom spoke. ‘Look, Mrs Hamilton, can I just say, Naomi saw me tonight, or I’d have left without speaking to her. I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I only wanted to apologise.’

  ‘You accused her of being intolerant and unforgiving,’ Nathan said. ‘How’s that an apology?’

  ‘That was after she told me where to stick my apology and told me to get out. For ages, I’ve wanted to say sorry, and – ’

  ‘Yeah right,’ Naomi said. ‘How about, “I don’t do guilt.” Those words sound familiar to you, Tom?’

  ‘You forget that she was there too,’ Tom said, hurling an outstretched arm and finger at Annabel.

  Annabel, head down, said nothing.

  ‘You’re wrong,’ Naomi shouted, surprising herself. ‘I’ve spent every minute trying to forget that fact, and I can’t.’

  Naomi’s voice cracked on the final two words. Nathan stood and pulled Naomi to her feet. He put his arms around her and Naomi leant into his chest and collapsed into tears. Her sobbing was the only sound.

  ‘Naomi, you are embarrassing yourself. Pull yourself together,’ Camilla hissed.

  ‘Can’t you see she has a right to be upset?’ Nathan asked, impatiently. ‘She was worried about tonight when she should have been looking forward to it. I promised her everything would be OK. Then he shows up, her sister gets too friendly with me and she isn’t even allowed to be upset about it.’

  ‘I’ve never been so disrespected,’ Camilla said.

  ‘I didn’t get too friendly with you,’ Annabel screamed.

  ‘You tried to kiss me, remember?’ Nathan told Annabel under his breath.

  ‘You wanted me to.’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’ Nathan looked away from Annabel and switched his attention to Camilla. ‘If you want to be respected, it has to be two-way,’ he said more calmly. ‘I’m sorry, but there has to be consistency. You’ve been against us from the start and you’ve shown me no respect at all, which has upset Naomi more than anything that’s happened tonight.’

  ‘How dare you,’ Camilla said.

  ‘I hate this family,’ Annabel yelled, standing up. ‘You’re such a hypocrite, Mother. This is crap – all of it. I’m sick of taking the blame for everything around here. Shall we all stop pretending, just for once?’

  ‘Don’t you speak to me –’

  ‘I’ll speak to you any way I want because I’m a person too. Disown me if you want. I’m leaving anyway,’ Annabel screamed, the veins on her neck bulging. ‘How much was Naomi’s piano?’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘We came in here, me and him,’ Annabel yelled, jabbing a thumb in Nathan’s direction. ‘We both knew why. He went to the piano and played a couple of notes and said that he’d never realised a piano could cost forty-five grand. I told him it was only fifteen, like my car. He told me Naomi had said it was forty-five thousand. So, let’s have the truth.’

  Nathan pulled away from Naomi and looked at her. ‘I’m sorry, I assumed she knew.’

  ‘You assume too much,’ Camilla said.

  ‘So do you,’ Annabel bellowed at Camilla. ‘Everything’s secretive in this house because nobody is honest. No one’s allowed to be, and everyone’s miserable because of it,’ Annabel assaulted Camilla with her eyes.

  ‘Naomi needed an excellent instrument
–’

  ‘Fine,’ Annabel screamed, ‘I get it. Why didn’t you just say so instead of trying to pretend you were treating us equally when you never have? Naomi’s the golden girl. It’s Naomi this, Naomi that. No one is good enough for Naomi. You’re treating him like he’s stolen the crown jewels or something,’ she said, throwing her arm in Nathan’s direction again. ‘Naomi’s the most talented person in the whole world. If only I was more like Naomi, I might have a chance of being successful in my life. You even prefer Lorie to me,’ she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘I’ve had it my whole life. The only way I can deal with it is to pretend I don’t care. Well, I’m done with pretending.’

  Annabel broke down and couldn’t carry on. She buried her head in her hands. It was Naomi who went to try and comfort her. ‘Annie, I’m sorry.’

  Annabel pushed her away and looked at her, ice-blue eyes streaming. ‘About what, Naomi? About being Mum’s favourite? About everyone being so disappointed in me because I can’t ever measure up to you?’ She paused. ‘I’m sorry I kissed him three years ago,’ she said, gesturing at Tom. ‘I was young and stupid and thought I could prove to myself, just once, that I could have what you had. I felt horrible about it straight after. But I swear, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near him tonight if I’d known you were together.’ She threw a dark glance at Nathan. ‘Why didn’t you just tell me? Why didn’t any of you just tell me?’

  Naomi covered her eyes with one hand. ‘I thought you’d think I wasn’t good enough for him. I’ve always felt inferior to you.’

  Despite the tears, Annabel laughed, then cried harder. ‘See what you’ve done to us, Mother, by trying to control our lives and mould us into the perfect daughters, you’ve only succeeded in screwing us up.’

  ‘No,’ Camilla said, some uncertainty creeping into her tone. ‘I’ve sacrificed everything for you girls.’

  ‘You’ve manipulated us,’ Annabel said, throwing her arms up wildly, letting them crash down. ‘Me and Naomi are finally managing some honesty, and you’re still deluded.’

  ‘Annie, that’s unfair,’ Naomi said, gently. ‘Mum only wants the best for us, you have to see that.’

  ‘Does she?’ Annabel said. ‘Then why don’t you share your wonderful news? I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic.’

  ‘Annie, please,’ Naomi said.

  ‘If she wants the best for us, then why are you so afraid of her?’ Annabel said. ‘Go on and tell her what I found out before she walked in. I’ve still got a few things to pack before I can get out of here.’ She looked at Camilla. ‘Sell my car and keep the money. I don’t want anything from you.’

  Annabel staggered to the door, opened it, slammed it shut behind her. Camilla, who’d lost the ability to speak, didn’t move. No one spoke. Tom, the only one still sitting, stood and muttered something about needing to leave. He apologised again on his way through the door. Camilla set her stare on Nathan and Naomi until Nathan spoke up.

  ‘We’re engaged.’

  All Camilla’s features seemed to open in alarm. There was another long silence.

  ‘Since when?’

  ‘Tonight,’ Nathan said.

  ‘Are you pregnant, Naomi?’ Camilla asked in a small voice as if all the air had been sucked from her.

  Naomi shook her head. ‘I’ve told you we’ve never slept together.’

  ‘Then why?’

  Naomi looked at Camilla in her chiffon gown, standing, head low, almost bowed. Her fight had gone. Naomi was seized by a sickening mixture of heaviness and sadness and couldn’t answer.

  Nathan took Naomi in his arms again and rested his chin on her head. ‘Because we’re adults and we love each other and we won’t be told we can’t be together. I’d prefer to have your approval, but with or without it, I’m determined to make her very happy.’

  19

  CAPTIVITY

  After hours of fits of rain, Naomi became conscious, suddenly, that it had stopped. The incessant pattering at the window had abated, leaving a kind of damp and heavy silence. Dan was slumped beside her on the sofa where they’d spent the night in senseless exchanges, Dan never able to reach the point or answer the questions Naomi had asked about Nathan. He wouldn’t explain why he’d collaborated with another man to take her at knifepoint to a cemetery before bringing her to a beautiful cottage in the back of beyond. She hadn’t concluded if he’d meant to kill her and changed his mind, or if a well-laid plan had gone wrong. Dan’s mood was unpredictable. He was agitated and upset. She didn’t feel to push him.

  For hours, he’d communicated by muttering fragments of information, which she was now trying to piece together. She was certain about only a few things: that Nathan was in terrible trouble and that Dan was terrified about it and had not known what to do but run and hide, taking Naomi with him. Nothing added up. He’d stare at her at times with his wild eyes and ask, ‘Don’t you see?’ She didn’t, and was forced to admit it, which only aggravated him more. Dan would revert to holding his head and crying. It had been a bizarre few hours and Naomi was filled with a horrible sense of foreboding. What am I not understanding here? That Dan was not in his right mind was the clearest thing, which was, in itself, a huge and immediate problem.

  As the first morning light penetrated the closed curtains of the dim little sitting room, making the lamplight less effective, Naomi was feeling a growing urgency to get away from Dan. She came to her senses, having been utterly lost in rambling thickets of thought, and realised he’d gone quiet. She slowly sat up and studied him, head dropped back against the sofa. Dan had drifted into sleep. His face didn’t look peaceful or rested. It looked as though his expression, retaining the subject of their last conversation, had frozen and his eyelids had closed. He reminded her so much of Nathan.

  Naomi stood carefully. Dan didn’t move. His mouth was shut, but he was inhaling deep breaths through his nose. His chest was heaving steadily, fingers locked loosely across his body. Naomi moved noiselessly to the door, which was slightly open. She took hold of it and opened it just far enough to slip through. She paused in the hall to listen, chest drumming a heavy beat, which she was sure would rouse Dan. The only other sound was the slower pulse of a ticking clock, which she found on the wall beside the front door, brass pendulum swinging rhythmically beneath. It was almost quarter to seven.

  The front door had an unclosed heavy curtain beside it on a black rail. Naomi, desperate to leave, weighed up the door. It was bolted at the top. Unwilling to risk the noise of moving the bolt, she tiptoed into the kitchen to look for keys and a way out of the back. There was nothing on the table but the bowl of fake fruit. She scanned the kitchen surfaces for keys, a phone, anything useful. Again, nothing.

  She headed for the back door. There was a single key in the lock. The sight of it brought a surge of energy. Naomi took hold of the key and slowly turned it anti-clockwise. After a click, she held still and looked over her shoulder. Nothing had changed. Dan wasn’t following. Only now did it occur to her that her feet were bare. She hesitated, mind divided. She knew where she’d seen shoes – in the small pantry on the other side of the kitchen. Was it worth diverting for them? She stiffened for a couple of seconds, cursing her inaction, simultaneously picturing the sodden fields after a night of endless rain. She needed shoes. She flew to the pantry door, opened it, found the shoes stacked up in the corner. They were too big. They were also the only option.

  Naomi picked them up and returned to the back door, shaking with the need to leave. She took hold of the door handle and took pains over slowly opening it. A breath of fresh morning air invited her out. She inhaled deeply. The birds were chattering in the trees. Every second she took over carefully closing the door, she expected Dan to appear and seize her again and lock her in the bedroom. She couldn’t go back to the chains. She wouldn’t.

  Beyond the back door, four rows of big square flagstones were laid across the full width of the house. An ornate cast iron table and two chairs sat on them to the right of the door.
Beyond that, a step led to a crazy-paved path edged with bedding plants, which ran the length of the garden. Part of this path had been in her view from the window and was painted in vivid colours in her memory.

  Naomi could see the familiar wooden gate at the end of the garden. Holding the shoes in one hand, and not wanting to wear them until she was clear of the path, she raced for the garden gate and went through it.

  Another look back assured her that Dan wasn’t following. Hands trembling, she shoved on the shoes. She was wearing the jeans and the zip up fleece top. It was a damp, chilly morning. The evidence of a deluge of rainfall was everywhere. Beyond the garden, Naomi plunged into the wet field and began to hurry away from the house as quickly as she could. Her shoes were being sucked into mud. There was a swollen stream to her right.

  She pictured a pretty village behind the distant hill, with low stone walls, a couple of shops, a pub and a few houses. She’d make it to the newsagent. With luck, it would be open already. She’d tumble inside a cosy little shop with a friendly shopkeeper who knew all the locals. She’d make herself known and borrow a phone and call home. The only number Nathan had was his mobile. She’d never memorised it.

  Lines of possible conversations were ringing in her head as she avoided the swamps and tried to keep moving quickly. Slicing into her plans and her peace was a faraway yell that stopped her heart.

  ‘Naomi.’ Then more forcefully. ‘Naomi.’

  She glanced behind. In the distance, Dan was charging down the garden and simultaneously climbing into his shoes. Naomi sped up. The shoes were loose. Now she was being less careful, cold mud was sloshing inside her shoes.

  Stay upright. Don’t slip. She hurried on, the air lifting her hair. It carried the promise of distant farms and drew more pictures in her head. She’d settle for any destination that was away from Dan and the cottage and the bed with seven scored lines in the leg.

  The sky sat low and overcast; the hidden sun seemed impossibly distant. The field was loosely wrapped in a carpet of mist, so vision ahead was limited. As long as the house was directly behind her, she knew she was heading in the right direction.