Cliff shrugged. ‘It was nothing important. I was just saying that the apartment was originally owned by a woman who was a bit batty. The problem was, she was obsessed with the past, and it made her a tad fanciful. She was the type, you know? A bit eccentric – into the power of crystal healing, that kind of thing, lots of floaty skirts and beads. Anyway, she heard voices. She was convinced the apartment was haunted.’
Cliff gave a loud bark of laughter and shook his head.
Scarlett saw her mum give her a quick glance to see if the haunted bit was worrying her, but she refused to meet her eyes. What if there really were ghosts? What if she saw them?
‘What made her think that?’ her mum asked.
Cliff had obviously picked up on her concern, and he gave Scarlett a worried look. ‘I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it. I’m sorry.’
Scarlett felt tiny pinpricks on the back of her neck, and she wasn’t sure if they were caused by excitement or fear.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said, waving the arm that wasn’t carrying a bag blithely in the air. ‘I don’t believe in ghosts. I wish I did sometimes.’
*
Natalie should have guessed that the apartment would be miles from the lift, and, although Cliff had kindly volunteered to carry the heaviest of their cases, she had been left with the bag with a dodgy handle, which was cutting into the flesh of her hand.
Her anger at Ed had been burning fiercely enough to keep her going, but the emotion was fading fast and now she just felt exhausted. She had given him the opportunity to explain what she had seen on his laptop, but he had been either unable or unwilling to justify himself. All he had said was, ‘You don’t understand, Nat. It’s not what you think.’
She had asked if it was work-related; if she went to his boss and asked him about it, would he back Ed up and confirm that it was an investigation? Ed had hung his head and said no.
So what was she supposed to think? The images she had seen were of young girls – Scarlett’s age and younger – either naked or wearing something intentionally provocative. How could she leave her daughter alone with him in the house? Her decision to leave had to have been the right one.
Natalie was conscious that Cliff was talking to her, and she hadn’t heard a word. ‘I’m sorry, Cliff. My mind was elsewhere. What were you saying?’
‘I was explaining about the lights along here. At this end of the building there are apartments on both sides of the hall, so no windows.’
As he spoke they reached a left-hand turn. Ahead of them lay a dark passage with doors on either side and Natalie stopped, seeing only shadows in the faint light from the corridor behind her. She didn’t want to go down there.
Cliff carried on walking, talking to her over his shoulder.
‘As you move on down, the lights come on automatically, and a few minutes later they go out again.’
True to his word, a series of overhead lamps flickered for a second, and then a harsh white light brutally illuminated the bare grey walls of the corridor ahead. Natalie hurried to catch up.
‘On your right here is the emergency exit,’ Cliff said. ‘The door to the street’s alarmed so don’t open it unless there’s a fire, because the whole building will have to be evacuated.’
The corridor ended abruptly at an unadorned wall, and Cliff indicated the far door on the right. Apartment 216N.
‘Here we go,’ he said, dropping the suitcase and pulling a key from his pocket. ‘This is as far as we go in the north wing. The wall here separates the two wings of the building.’
Scarlett didn’t seem to be at all interested, and frankly all Natalie wanted to do was get inside, check the place over and have some time to think.
‘The apartments in the other wing are different to these. The original plan was to make the whole building into a luxury living experience,’ Cliff said, speaking the final three words as if he was quoting from a brochure. ‘They started in the south wing, but the units weren’t selling so they changed strategy and went for smaller apartments on this side – more suited to the single, young professional type. They put a wall between so they could put better lighting and flooring in the posh part.’
Natalie looked at the polished concrete floor of the corridor, the white glow of the automatic lights glaring off its shiny surface, and decided that whatever was on the other side, it couldn’t be less attractive than this. But it didn’t matter. It was only temporary.
*
Natalie stood in the open entrance to the apartment and looked at the place where she and Scarlett would probably be living for the next few weeks at least.
The door from the corridor led directly into the main room and she took a step forward, thinking that it could have been worse. She pushed open a door on the right to reveal a small bathroom, and on the left a kitchen area with pale wood-effect cupboards and a dark worktop looked clean and reasonably well equipped. She put her handbag down on the small breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the rest of the room and walked to the far end, past a long red sofa set against one wall and a flat-screen TV opposite. A single window that was too small to relieve the gloomy shadows of the room offered no view to speak of, and she realised that the red-brick buildings opposite would block out most of the natural light during the day.
As if reading her mind, Cliff switched on an overhead light that sat flush against the ceiling, resembling nothing so much as a dead jellyfish. Now the space seemed overly bright and Natalie made a mental note to invest in a lamp. The room was stuffy and she reached for the window catch, but it wouldn’t budge.
‘Does this window open?’ she asked.
‘It should do,' Cliff answered, ‘but there’s a ventilation system throughout the apartment too. While I try to get that window open for you, why don’t you take a look in the bedroom?’
Natalie had omitted to warn Scarlett that they would have to share a room and tried to ignore the indignant expression on her daughter’s face.
‘Let’s check out where we’re going to sleep, sweetheart. Bring your bag with you. And don’t look so cross. You can have the bed if you like and I’ll sleep on the sofa. Or we can share.’ Natalie smiled at her scowling daughter, who sighed but followed her.
The bedroom was about the same width as the sitting room with the bathroom eating into its length, but it had a double bed and a large wardrobe, and Natalie was sure they would be able to manage.
‘Scarlett, come here,’ she said, holding out her arms. ‘I’m so sorry this isn’t what you want. It’s not what I want either. But it’ll do for now, don’t you think?’ She nudged the door with her foot so that it was almost closed. She didn’t want to embarrass Cliff, but she couldn’t ignore her daughter at that moment. Scarlett’s eyes were full of tears.
‘Oh sweetheart, I really am sorry,’ Natalie said. ‘We can talk about it later, I promise. Let’s get the keys off Cliff, unpack, and then we’ll talk. Okay?’
‘Okay.’ Scarlett reached for Natalie’s arm. ‘I’m sorry too, Mum. If I’ve done something wrong, I’m really sorry.’
Natalie couldn’t quite stifle a moan at Scarlett’s words. She reached out and put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders, holding her away slightly so she could look into her eyes. ‘You have done nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing, I promise. You’ve been wonderful. Just bear with me a bit longer. Okay?’
Scarlett nodded, and Natalie pulled her into a fierce hug before turning back towards the door. She appreciated Cliff’s help, but she couldn’t wait for him to be gone.
As they walked out of the bedroom, he was by the breakfast bar, but he wasn’t looking at Natalie; he was staring at the ceiling with a puzzled frown on his face.
‘We’re going to take the apartment, Cliff.’ Natalie pulled an envelope holding the deposit cheque out of her bag, but it was as if he hadn’t heard her.
‘Cliff?’ she said. ‘Is everything all right?’
He turned towards her, his brow slightly furrowed. ‘Sorry. Yes
, everything’s fine. I need to go, I’m afraid. Here are your keys. Let me know if you need anything.’
‘Thanks for your help,’ Natalie said.
But she was talking to an empty doorway. Cliff had gone.
8
They had eaten cheese on toast for their evening meal, which Scarlett was quite happy about but her mum kept apologising as if it was the most important thing in the world. It was the only food they had, though, and Scarlett kept telling her it was fine. They had called in at a small supermarket on their way, and had whizzed around randomly shoving things in a basket. Who cared about food right now anyway?
They ate their meal at the breakfast bar, Scarlett giving one-word responses to any non-confrontational topics that her mum tried to introduce, the screaming match of some couple in a television soap covering the long silences. She couldn’t understand why they were avoiding the only subject that really mattered. She was beginning to feel sick, her stomach in knots, wondering what her mum was going to say.
Finally, they sat down together on the sofa.
‘I need to talk to you, sweetheart.’
Scarlett obligingly switched off the television, dreading the next few minutes but keen to get it over with, if only to relieve the unbearable tension in the room.
She listened as her mum tried to explain that sometimes men like younger girls, and that those feelings were inappropriate. As if she didn’t know that. But she knew what her mum was getting at and she was horrified.
‘Are you talking about Ed?’ Scarlett said, shaking her head. ‘You are totally and completely wrong about him. How could you even think that?’
‘Look, sweetheart, you know all about grooming. We’ve talked about it before. People getting themselves into positions of trust within the family, buying presents…and let’s face it, Ed’s always buying things for you.’
‘He’s being kind to me. What is wrong with you?’
Scarlett jumped up from the sofa, tears streaming down her cheeks. She wanted to get as far away from her mum as possible. Surely this wasn’t about Ed hugging her when she was crying? There had to be more to it than that, but it was all her mum would say.
‘Since your dad died, I know you’ve been keeping from me how sad you are. Ed told me you cry a lot when I’m not around because you don’t want to upset me. But I’d much rather you shared it with me. I miss him too, you know. Your dad was a part of my life for as long as I can remember, and we were so happy together.’
‘Were you, Mum? Are you sure about that?’ Scarlett regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. She saw the shock on her mum’s face and looked away.
‘Of course I am. What on earth do you mean?’
Scarlett dropped her head and she spoke quietly. ‘Before he died, for a few months you seemed different together. That’s all.’
‘All marriages have their ups and downs, Scarlett. Your dad was working hard – out all hours, doing lots of overtime. And he’d just joined the gym too. Do you remember, he was a bit obsessed with that so-called spare tyre of his that we teased him about? He was worn out. Things would have got back to normal, I’m sure. We still loved each other.’
Scarlett kept her head bent and said nothing, wiping her damp cheeks with the back of her hand.
‘Look, there’s nobody more important to me than you, and if there was the slightest chance that someone might hurt you I’d kill him myself. So I need you to tell me something, and tell me the absolute truth. Whatever you say, I won’t be angry with you. I can guarantee that.’ Her mum paused and took a deep breath. ‘Has Ed ever touched you in any way that you knew was wrong, even if it appeared to be by accident? Has he ever suggested anything that’s worried you or made you feel uneasy?’
Scarlett lifted her tear-streaked face, no longer able to control the sobs that had been building in her chest.
‘You have a horrible mind, Mum. And don’t talk to me as if I’m ten years old. I know you mean has he asked me to have sex with him, and of course he bloody hasn’t. That’s disgusting, and I think you’re vile to even think it. Ed made me feel safe.’ Scarlett turned away, her voice cracking as she spoke. ‘Ed said at some point I’d stop blaming myself for making Dad walk my puppy because I was too idle to get up early to do it myself. He made me feel life was worth living, even though I’d lost my dad and it was my fault.’
‘Oh Scarlett, nobody thinks it was your fault, sweetheart. Absolutely nobody at all.’
‘Well I do. And nothing’s going to change that. Maybe I’m the one who should have died.’
*
Cliff Solaja trudged along the dark side streets with two carrier bags of shopping. He had left it too late for the local shops and had had to slog all the way to the late-night supermarket. It had seemed a good idea to stock up while he was out, but as the handles of the plastic carriers seemed in danger of breaking under the weight of the couple of bottles of beer he had added to his already overladen bags, he had to hike them up and put one in each arm.
His mind wasn’t really on his shopping. He was puzzled. He had to understand if something was going on right under his nose, and had carried out his investigations as quietly as he could. He had found nothing. But still he wasn’t sure if he was missing the obvious. His every instinct told him that things were not as they should be.
The best thing was for him to get back to his room and write down everything he knew or suspected – to see if he could make sense of it all – so he decided to take the short cut back. He dodged down a narrow street with tall properties on either side, blocking out what little moonlight there was. A single yellow street light flickered, and the red-brick buildings that housed a plethora of small businesses during the day showed their blank black windows to the street.
The first he knew that someone was behind him was when he heard a stone skid across the pavement. There had been no sound of footsteps, and the thought that whoever was behind him was a skilled stalker flashed through his head as he spun round.
Hampered by his two shopping bags, still held tightly to his body, he had no time to drop them as he heard the sharp snap of an expandable baton clicking into place, and as his arms opened to let the bags fall, the first blow struck him above his left ear.
He crumpled heavily to the ground, vaguely aware of the smell of beer as his head hit the detritus of his shattered groceries.
‘This is what happens to those who can’t mind their own fucking business,’ a voice whispered close to his ear. ‘They die.’
His world went black as the blows rained down on his head.
9
Sleep had eluded Natalie. Scarlett had refused to take the bed for herself or to share with her mum, saying she would rather sleep on the concrete floor in the corridor, and Natalie had lain awake for hours, hoping her daughter would relent and join her. She had to find a way of convincing Scarlett that her dad’s death was in no way her fault, and persuade her that the decision to move out of Ed’s house was the right one.
She had tried to comfort her – to help her to see things differently – but with little success. She didn’t know how she was going to put this right, and the situation wasn’t helped when she asked Scarlett not to tell Ed where they were living or let him visit her when Natalie was at work.
‘What do you think he’s going to do, Mum? Come here and molest me?’
‘No, but I don’t want him here when I’m out. So I’d prefer it if you didn’t call him, and I am going to ask him not to call you. For now.’
Scarlett’s trust in Ed was scaring Natalie. But if he was trying to insinuate himself into her life, at fifteen she couldn’t be expected to spot the early signs.
What if I’m wrong? Natalie had thought.
‘Are you going to tell him where we are, then, if I can’t?’
‘He doesn’t need to know. We’re only here for a month, and then—’
‘A month? What am I supposed to do while you’re out at work all day? I’ve been looking forward t
o school finishing for the summer, but I’m miles away from my friends – I don’t know anyone round here.’ Scarlett’s voice had risen to a shriek.
‘Invite them here, then. You can go shopping, maybe to a museum.’
At the suggestion of a museum, Scarlett’s face said it all. ‘What, every day? For a month?’
The conversation hadn’t improved, and finally Natalie had said it would be best if they both went to bed and slept on it. They could talk about it again in the morning.
Scarlett had insisted on taking the sofa. ‘Leave me alone, Mum. You have no idea how it feels to be me. No idea how much better I was, and how totally crap I feel right now. Just go away.’
Natalie had known that they would both be crying in private. She desperately wanted to make things better for her daughter, but she had no idea how.
As she got into bed, her phone rang. Her whole body jolted. Could it be Ed? Was he going to tell her something that would make everything right? Did she want to speak to him?
She was tempted not to answer, but when she pulled the phone from her bag and looked at the screen she saw it was Megan, who was bound to have spoken to Ed by now. Natalie could picture her pacing up and down her kitchen, one hand holding the phone to her ear, the other fluffing up her curly mop of black hair, waiting to tell Natalie what she thought of her. She was going to have to speak to her some time, so with a slight feeling of dread she answered the call.
Megan didn’t bother with the pleasantries. ‘What’s going on, Natalie? Ed’s in bits.’
Natalie didn’t want to tell her what she suspected. Megan was Ed’s friend, but she was also a police officer and might feel she had to report it, and Natalie wasn’t prepared to tar Ed with that particular brush quite yet.
‘What’s he said to you?’ Natalie asked.
‘Bugger all, as you might expect. He’s trying to hide how he feels, as always, but he’s not fooled me. Of course, he would never say a single derogatory word about you, so you’re going to have to tell me.’
The Sixth Window Page 5
