Touching the Dark

by Jane A. Adams

  “I suppose we’d better,” Naomi said reluctantly.

  “Oh, hell. He could choose a better time.”

  “I know. Maybe it’s revenge for us bursting in on him.” She grinned at Alec and sensed him grimace.

  “He was alone,” Alec pointed out. “And had nothing planned.”

  Naomi giggled, definitely too much wine she told herself. She attempted to sober up in the time it took Simon to come upstairs, failing miserably as she knew she would.

  “Erm...Am I interrupting?”

  “Yes,” Alec told him, “But never mind.” He paused. “You look a bit tidier than last time we saw you.”

  “Er, yes. I guess I do.”

  Naomi heard the sound of something being placed on her dining table, two somethings in fact, placed and then slid across the polished surface.

  “What have you brought?” she wanted to know.

  “Stuff,” Simon told her awkwardly. “It’s Tally’s stuff, or at least some of it is. I mean, some of it is just about her.”

  “Oh? And why do I get it?”

  “Well I just thought...Look, can I sit down. I mean I won’t take long but I need to tell you.”

  “Sure,” Naomi told him. The mood of the evening had been broken now anyway. “Alec, will you make some coffee, I think I need it.” She had the annoying feeling that despite what Simon had said this was going to take some time.

  Simon waited until he had his coffee and Alec had settled himself beside Naomi before he began. It was clear that he didn’t know where to start, but slowly, with a little prompting, the story began to emerge.

  “I did an assignment on her,” he told them. “That was how we met.”

  “I remember. Lillian was proud enough to burst.”

  “Yeah, I know. It was my first break and boy was it a break and a half. I know people wait years to get the kind of coverage I did with that story. And we’d got involved too. Fallen in love, I thought. I know it happens, you report something and forget to keep your distance, but this was different. I just couldn’t believe it, this fantastic woman, beautiful, talented,” he laughed, “rich too, I guess, and she wanted me. But I mean, who was I kidding. I shouldn’t have been surprised that she dumped me, just that she bothered with me at all.”

  “And this revelation,” Alec asked him. “It emerged over the last two days did it? I didn’t think we’d done that good a job.”

  Simon shook his head. “No, it didn’t. I guess I was coming round to it on my own but you guys kind of focussed it for me. I’ve been stupid, risking everything and I know I need to pull myself back on the horse or whatever and get on with my life.”

  “For a would-be writer, you sure mix your metaphors,” Naomi told him. She fell silent for a moment, suspicious of this sudden transformation from the scruffy, depressed young man they had visited only days before. Was this just another ploy to get everyone off his back? She didn’t think so. She knew from her own bitter experience after the accident that blinded her that these dramatic mood swings were a normal way of dealing with grief. That from deepest despair one day, it was possible to swing back into some kind of euphoric state, only to plunge back down again. It was like being on a seesaw and her therapist had taught her not to feel bad about it, just accept it as part of the process. Gradually, the highs became less high; the lows a little more manageable and for most people some kind of equilibrium established itself.

  She didn’t think Simon was anywhere near that place yet.

  “So, what’s in the boxes?” she wanted to know.

  “Oh, stuff. Mostly the stuff Alec saw on my bedroom walls but some other things too. I thought. I suppose I thought that if I brought it here, got it out of the house and maybe told you why I was acting like such a jerk...it might get better.”

  She could hear it in his voice, the bubble of confidence already thinning and the euphoria set to dump him once again.

  “That’s probably good thinking,” Alec said,” But Naomi knew from his tone that he too recognised the pattern.

  “Apart from not wanting to let go,” Naomi asked, “what is your excuse for acting like a prat?” It was a rather blunt comment to make to such a fragile ego, but the wine had robbed her of a degree of subtlety.

  He pushed himself to his feet and for a moment, Naomi thought that she had gone too far and Simon was about to leave. Instead, she heard him walk over to the table and retrieve his packages, bringing them back to where she sat on the big blue sofa and dumping them and himself on the floor at her feet.

  “I don’t think she wanted to break up with me,” He stated. Naomi heard him shuffling amongst papers and found a small stack of card that felt like photographs dumped into her lap. “They belong to her,” Simon said. “They’re photos of when she was a kid and I’ve no right to have them. I want you to take them back. Please Naomi.”

  Alec took them from her and skimmed through. “She was a pretty kid,” he commented. “Is this her mother?”

  “Yes,” Simon confirmed. “That’s Rose.”

  “Why not just post them?” Naomi didn’t think she liked the idea of taking these personal possessions back to a young woman she didn’t even know.”

  “Because that seems so...cold. I thought about going round there, taking them myself but...”

  “Not the best of ideas,” Alec confirmed. “But I’m with Nomi, Stick them in the post with a note saying you’re sorry for being such an idiot. If she’s half as decent as your parents seem to think she is, she’ll forgive you. She’ll just be glad to get the pictures back.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Simon said reluctantly, “but the thing is Alec, I want to make sure she’s all right. I’ve been so worried about her. You see, I don’t think she wanted to break up any more than I did. I think someone made her.”

  Naomi remembered Lillian mentioning this theory. She was tempted to take it with a large pinch of salt and suspected that Simon’s real reason was that she, Naomi, might act as a kind of go between, tasked with persuading Tally Palmer to take Simon back. She remembered doing something similar in her teens, when she’d broken up with a boyfriend. Asking a friend to go round and return his records and such, hoping that the friend would be persuasive...she had been, Naomi thought wryly, but persuasive in totally the wrong way. A week later and the ex-boyfriend and now ex-friend had become an item and Naomi left to fume, knowing that she’s probably helped to set them up.

  “She’s a grown woman,” Naomi told him. “And from all accounts not one that’s easily pushed around. Simon, you’ve got to face up to the fact that she simply didn’t want to be with you anymore.”

  There was silence, a long silence, broken only by the soothing tick of the pendulum clock and the half-hearted thump of Napoleon’s tail, reminding her that it was way past his bedtime and he was already practically asleep.

  “You don’t know her, “Simon said at last. “She might seem really strong, independent, all of those things, but where Jack’s concerned she doesn’t seem to have a mind of her own. She just does as he says.”

  Beside her, Alec shifted position and she turned her head automatically in his direction, exchanging puzzled glances. Even though she could no longer see she still used her sighted body language.

  “Who the hell is Jack?” Alec asked for both of them.

  “He’s this man. This friend she’s had for years. I think...I suspect that Jack is more than a friend.”

  “You think they might be lovers,” Alec said bluntly and even though he sat a couple of feet away from her, Naomi could feel that Simon flinched.

  “I...don’t know. I just know that when Jack says jump, Tally asks how high. He wanted rid of me. I’m sure of it. And that’s when things went wrong between us.”

  “So,” Alec said, “You’ve got a rival. Simon, if anything that should make you more willing to let go. If this chap’s been around for a long time, then they probably have a long standing thing going. Maybe they just wanted a break for a while and now th
ey’ve decided that they’re right after all. Long term couples can get bored, I suppose. Want a little variety, but if they’re meant for one another...”

  “That’s not the way it was!” Simon was growing more and more exasperated. “Look, Tally loved me. I wasn’t an entertainment or a try out. She loved me. I really believed it was going somewhere then he started to interfere.” He fell silent again and then he said. “I think he has some kind of hold over her. That she’s in trouble. I need to know.” He reached forward and took Naomi’s hands. “Look, I’ve begun to gather evidence. It’s here, in these boxes. It’s alright,” he added. “I’ve got copies of everything, so I don’t need to have them back”

  “I thought you said you were trying to get rid of these things. That you felt you’d get over it better if they were out of your flat,” Alec demanded.

  “I did...I do. I mean the copies are at work. I left them there. See, I’m trying. But this isn’t about me, it’s about Tally.

  “What kind of evidence,” Naomi wanted to know.

  “Oh, newspaper stuff. And I’ve interviewed some of her old school friends. Her mum, that sort of thing. I’ve been trying to find out about Jack. Who he is, what hold he has over her. I’ve...”

  “You’ve interviewed people?”

  “Sure. There are copies of the tapes in the big box.”

  “And this was when you did the assignment on her?” Naomi pushed.

  “No, no, this was after. I mean, after we broke up I just knew there had to be a reason, a real reason I mean. So I started my investigation. Alec, there’s stuff I can’t get hold of, old accident reports and such. I expect they’re archived somewhere and I I thought that you...”

  “No way, Simon. This isn’t a legitimate investigation. As I said before, it’s stalking this poor woman. Does she know what you’re doing?”

  “No, she’s been away. Working abroad. It’s ok, the friends I talked to don’t keep in touch much and she doesn’t see her mother all that often. I told them we were planning a follow up to my original article, that maybe the TV would be getting involved.” He laughed harshly. “Amazing what people will tell you just to get their fifteen minutes of fame.”

  “Simon, you must know this isn’t right,” Naomi pressed. “You’re obsessing, big time. You’ve got to get some help.”

  “Of course it’s right,” he insisted. “Look, Naomi, Alec. I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for Tally. And in the end I know she’ll understand and we’ll be together again.”

  “And if she doesn’t understand?”

  Simon laughed as if the notion were impossibility. “She’ll understand,” he affirmed, sounding happier than he had since he’d first entered Naomi’s flat. “All I’ve got to do is to get rid of Jack.”

  Chapter Seven

  Whatever thoughts she may have had about the meeting, Naomi had to give Tally Palmer top marks for her reaction when she opened the door and found a blind woman and dog standing in front of her.

  “Oh, hi,” the younger woman said. “Are you collecting for something? Did one of the neighbours buzz you in?”

  “I came in with one of them, I think,” Naomi told her. “A man who said his name was Brad.” She had noticed, since losing her sight, just how much more information people volunteered when talking to her than they had before. It was an interesting phenomenon.

  “Oh, Brad. Yes, he lives on the next floor down.” She hesitated for the briefest of instants before asking, “don’t I know you from somewhere?” She laughed. “Sorry, if this sounds odd, but didn’t we go to the same school?”

  They had, but Naomi was amazed she should remember. “I was a good four years ahead of you,” she said.

  “Yes, but you were...a prefect. Very tall and dead skinny. Lots of long dark hair. I was dead jealous.”

  Naomi laughed. She hadn’t expected the conversation to take this turn, but was kind of glad it had. “That was me,” she said. “And heavy, dark rimmed glasses. I switched to contacts in my final year.”

  “It was Tally’s turn to laugh. “Lord yes, I do remember. But what can I do for you? I mean, I’m assuming that you’re not collecting for anything.”

  “No,” Naomi told her quietly. “Actually, I’ve come to give something back.” She had the pictures in an envelope in the pocket of her raincoat. She took them out now and handed them to Tally. Tally ripped the envelope and riffled through the pictures before speaking, then, “Simon”, she said. “you’ve come because of Simon.”

  “His parents are friends, they asked me to talk to him, about you. About leaving you alone and getting on with his life.”

  “And will he?” Her voice was suddenly chilly, but there was also genuine curiosity in the question.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think that I was that persuasive. But he gave me these, asked me to bring them round. He also asked me to talk to you, but I can’t think of a single reason why I should and I told him that.”

  “So that’s why he didn’t just post them. He sent you to be his advocate.”

  “Tough on Simon if he did,” Naomi told her. “Frankly, I think he should be taking his family’s advice and putting this behind him. They think you’re a nice person, but they also think that not letting go of you is bad for Simon and frankly, I agree, so if you want to do me the favour of telling me to go away, now, I’m quite happy to do that. It’ll save me having to go back to Simon with what he’ll see as hope.”

  She could feel Tally considering her words, the younger woman’s eyes resting upon her face, considering both what she had said and something else that Naomi could not quite fathom.

  “You’d be good to photograph,” Tally Palmer said. “Sorry, but you get into a certain way of thinking in my business. Do you mind if I ask you something?”

  “About Simon?”

  “Simon? No. I don’t have to ask about Simon.” She sounded sad, for a moment, almost as lost as did Simon himself, but the moment passed, a soft footfall behind her distracting them both and breaking the mood. Tally was not alone. A man, Naomi guessed from the footsteps, a guess confirmed as he spoke.

  “Hello,” he said. “And who are you?”

  It might have been an unfriendly greeting, but his tone made it merely curious. He was as direct as Tally, Naomi thought and some intuition told her that this must be Jack.

  “Naomi Blake,” she introduced herself, extending her hand in the direction from which the voice had come.

  “Jack Chalmers.” He took her hand. His grip was firm, but the contact brief and his hand cool almost to the point of coldness.

  “Naomi’s brought my pictures back,” Tally informed him.

  “Oh?” The curiosity had gone to be replaced by wariness.

  “Don’t worry Jack, she’s not here to plead his case.” Again that slight sadness in her voice. “As a matter of fact, we were at school together. Secondary, that is, though I never made prefect.”

  “I don’t remember you,” Jack said.

  “No, you wouldn’t,” Naomi told him. “We were never friends. I was a few years ahead of Tally. Were you there? Simon mentioned that you were old friends, you and Tally.”

  “Ah. Simon. No, I went to another school.”

  Naomi waited for him to elaborate, but he did not. It felt awkward now, Naomi standing in the hallway, Jack guarding the door. Napoleon caught their mood and shifted uncertainly, leaning hard against Naomi’s leg as he always did when a situation caused him some concern.

  “I’d better go,” Naomi said.

  “Maybe you had. Sorry, if that sounds rude but, I think it might be best. Are you all right making your way down stairs?”

  Naomi smiled. “Thanks, I’m fine. Napoleon will make sure of that.” She turned awkwardly in the narrow hall and the dog, taking his cue, began to lead her slowly back to the stairwell, sitting down at the top, until she got her bearings, gripped the rail and then urged him on. Tally must have watched her for a moment from the open door because as Naomi began to
descend, taking it slowly, feeling each step at a time, she heard Jack’s voice sounding angrily from inside the apartment.

  “He’ll never leave you alone,” Jack said.

  “Oh, leave it Jack, yes he will.”

  Naomi paused, fairly sure that she was out of sight now. As Tally closed the door she caught Jack’s voice again. “And that woman. If she comes again, tell her to go away. There’s something about her I don’t like at all.”

  Chapter Eight

  “What was she like in school?” Alec asked when Naomi had recounted the story of their visit. He’d come straight from work, soaked to the skin and dived into a hot shower. He kept spare clothes at Naomi’s and thought he hadn’t actually moved in, spent more time in her flat than he ever did in his own.

  He stood towel drying his hair in the doorway of the living room, bringing with him the fresh soapy scent of the shower and the lemon of her shampoo. Naomi, coming from the kitchen carrying two mugs, handed him one. “I put some whisky in your tea.”

  He laughed. “Thanks. Not mine, I hope?”

  “No, the cheap stuff, you can’t tell the difference in tea.”

  “I can, but...tell, what was she like?”

  Naomi shrugged and perched herself on the arm of her favourite chair. “Shy. Quiet. Unremarkable, from what I remember. Then in my last year, she took up photography and it was as if someone switched on a light. After that, she glowed. Started winning competitions, took the pictures of the school plays, that sort of thing. I’ve seen her work since, even went to a big exhibition one time when I happened to be down in London. You know, the funny thing, I never connected with the name, just some reference in the news about her going to Ingham Comprehensive and I remember being so impressed that anything good came out of Ingham Comp that I went to take a look.”

  “Ow, that’s hard,” Alec said. “It’s not that bad a school.”

  “Not that good, either. Anyway, you went to posh school, so how would you know.”

  “Posh school! Rydale was not posh school.”