The Pact: A dark and compulsive thriller about secrets, privilege and revenge

by S J Bolton

  ‘I think that’s right,’ Talitha said. ‘Be vague, don’t make anything up, because someone else might contradict it.’

  ‘You realise this all depends on Megan,’ Xav said. ‘It doesn’t matter how well we play it, if she—’

  ‘Do you think she’ll keep quiet?’ Dan asked. ‘She must have so far, or we’d be under arrest too. But will she in future?’

  ‘We can’t know,’ Talitha said.

  ‘What do we say when they ask us why Megan did it?’ Amber asked. ‘Why she kept driving her car the wrong way down the motorway? I mean, it’s totally not what Megan would do.’

  ‘We say we don’t know,’ Felix said. ‘Don’t try to second guess, don’t make shit up. Say you have no idea.’

  ‘But she has been odd this summer,’ Amber pressed on. ‘I didn’t really think about it until today, until we found out her results, but there’s been something bothering her.’

  ‘I noticed that too,’ Xav said.

  ‘Guys, it doesn’t matter,’ Felix said. ‘The point is we don’t know, so that’s what we say.’

  ‘What did your dad mean, we shouldn’t spend too much time together?’ Amber asked Talitha.

  ‘He means we’re guilty by association,’ Xav said. ‘Everyone knew we were best friends with Megan. Our reputations will be tainted too, and it will be worse the more we hang out together. He wants to break us up. We should expect our parents to do the same thing.’

  ‘You and me?’ Amber asked, her face creased up in dismay. ‘Will we have to stop seeing each other?’

  ‘They’ll try,’ Xav said. ‘They’ll be praying that none of the rest of us gets dragged into it, and if we escape charges, they’ll want us to have nothing to do with this friendship group ever again.’

  ‘They can’t stop us meeting up, though, can they?’ Amber said. ‘We’re all over eighteen, even you in a couple of weeks.’

  ‘They’re probably thinking they can do it for the rest of the holiday,’ Xav said. ‘Come October, we’ll all be going our separate ways anyway.’

  ‘We hope,’ Felix muttered.

  The door opened again and Barnaby appeared. He tapped his wristwatch. The group got to their feet.

  ‘I’m just seeing them out,’ Talitha announced.

  ‘Dinner’s on the table,’ her father objected. ‘A considerably nicer meal, in much better surroundings, than the one your erstwhile friend Megan will be enjoying tonight.’ He looked around the group, taking in each one of them with his cold stare. ‘I suggest you all dwell on that in the days to come.’

  15

  Four months later

  Since he’d been a kid, when he’d first discovered and fallen in love with the periodic table, Felix had formed a habit of assigning chemical elements to people in his life. He never felt he really knew someone until he’d given them an element, sometimes a compound of two or more. Megan, though, he’d always struggled with, and the closest he could get was bismuth. Long and – wrongly – considered stable, bismuth did decay, but infinitely slowly; one could never see it, or measure it, but beneath the surface, something was definitely going on. And that was all Megan, reliable head of school, calm, even-handed, as good at contributing to a team as leading it, Megan seemed entirely unremarkable for much of the time, but with occasional flashes of the extraordinary. In the same way, bismuth appeared dull, a bit uninteresting, but crystalised into fragile, rainbow-coloured structures of an astonishing beauty. On balance, Felix thought, he’d got it right. Bismuth was Megan, or at least the Megan before all this happened to her.

  Because in the last few seconds of her trial, from his seat at the back of the public gallery, Felix was forced to watch Megan lose her composure. As the judge completed sentencing, she seemed to curl in upon herself, as though an invisible fist had punched into her stomach. Her mouth opened, but any sound she made was drowned by the uproar in court; if the guilty verdict had been popular, the sentence was bringing the house down.

  A life sentence, with a minimum tariff of twenty years.

  At the front of the public gallery, Michael Robinson dropped his head into his hands. Sitting next to Felix, Amber did the same thing, and it was Dan, not Xav, who put a comforting arm on her shoulder. Amber and Xav were no longer a couple.

  Then Megan’s head lifted, slowly, and she might have aged ten years since the trial began. Her hair had grown, its silver spikes giving way to an inch of dark roots. Her face, always pale, had blanched, its flesh seemingly melted away and her eyes sunken inwards. Her skin was coarse, like cheap paper, and the skin of her lips had cracked and split. Megan Macdonald, the most despised young woman in England, might, at last, be absorbing the gravity of her situation.

  Felix watched her eyes moving upwards, finding the gallery, possibly even seeking him out, and had he thought there was the remotest possibility of hiding, he might have shrunk in his seat. He had no chance of avoiding her, though; he was probably the biggest person in the room.

  Sensing that something might be unfolding, heads began to follow Megan’s gaze, looking perhaps for her mother, but no, Mrs Macdonald had been at the opposite side of the gallery since the trial began, and she’d collapsed now, onto the shoulder of someone sitting next to her.

  Was Megan looking at Xav? Glancing to the side, Felix saw Xav’s face tight with tension. Down in the courtroom, Megan’s hands gripped the rail in front of her, as though she might even be on the verge of clambering over it. For a second, she held eye contact with Xav and her mouth opened.

  And then the spell was broken by the court officers who took hold of Megan’s arms and eased her out of the courtroom. Felix felt a split second of relief. The drama, now, would be outside the court. The TV cameras – plenty of them, the ‘Daredevil Driver’ case had caught imaginations worldwide – would be waiting in the street. There would be statements: from the police, from the victims’ family; there might even be a glimpse of the windowless van that would take Megan out of this life and into another. Nobody wanted to miss this; people began to move.

  Like stones embedded in the sand as waves wash away from them, Felix and the others watched the emptying courtroom. Around him, all sound dulled, as though the court had become a TV set on which someone had turned down the volume. He saw the judge’s mouth move, and Talitha, perhaps, would have known what he was saying, maybe thanking and dismissing the jury; he watched the barristers pack away their papers and the detective in charge of the case, who turned out to be the blonde who’d interviewed Amber on the first day, checking her lipstick discreetly in a pocket compact.

  People in the main body of the court were leaving with barely concealed impatience, and those in the gallery followed suit. The press, who’d been sitting at the back to be in poll position, had already gone, as fast as they decently could. Megan’s mother was led away, weeping. She didn’t speak to her daughter’s friends. It was possible she hadn’t even known they were there.

  ‘We have to go.’ Felix leaned across Amber to address the others. ‘We’ll be seen if we stay. Come on.’

  Like sheep, exhausted but cooperative, they went with him, and all kept their eyes down as they slid out of the wooden benches. They’d managed to keep their profile low during the five days of the trial, but reporting restrictions would be lifted now, Tal had warned, and as far as the country’s media were concerned, it would be open season. Journalists desperate for copy wouldn’t be able to reach Megan in her prison cell, so they’d come for her friends.

  With Felix at the front, which possibly wasn’t wise, because with his height, build and colouring he’d always be the most recognisable, they followed the last of the court occupants out. On the street, TV cameras were trained on the lead detective, wrapped up warmly now in a pink coat, on the legal team at her side and especially on Michael Robinson, the victims’ husband and father.

  ‘These last few months have been the wors
t imaginable for Mr Robinson,’ the detective was saying, as a reporter held a fluffy grey microphone towards her face. ‘His entire family was wiped out by the thoughtless and cruel actions of an over-privileged young woman who thought she was above the law. Today’s sentence will send a strong signal that no one is.’

  ‘There they are!’ A woman in a padded jacket was pointing directly at them. ‘Megan’s friends.’

  The waiting, watching crowd seemed to act as one, and there was something pack-like in the way every head turned in their direction. Cold eyes locked onto targets and a man holding a camera on his shoulder moved towards them.

  Felix grabbed Talitha’s hand. ‘Come on.’

  Heedless of the Christmas traffic, he dragged Tal into the road, dodging around a bus, ignoring car horns. Xav, Amber and Dan followed, but further along the road lights had turned against them and the traffic was slowing. The chasing pack caught up on the opposite pavement where the sheer number of pedestrians made it difficult to move at speed. Faces turned towards them, because people love nothing more than a street brawl, as long as it involves someone else.

  A camera was pointed into Talitha’s face. ‘Talitha, did you know about your friend’s daredevil game?’

  Felix pulled her aside, and they dodged around a bus queue, but the news teams had far more practice in pursuing reluctant interviewees than the gang had in evading them. The hunters kept pace with prey as they fought their way along the busy pavement.

  ‘Do you think she was trying to commit suicide after her terrible exam results?’

  The sharp bristles of a Christmas tree carried over someone’s shoulder scratched against Felix’s face.

  ‘Amber, were you expecting such a harsh sentence?’

  ‘Were you ever in the car with her, Dan?’

  This was disastrous; he had to get them away. ‘Meadow,’ Felix called over his shoulder.

  Christ Church Meadow, an area of open land in the city centre, and one the gang knew every corner of, was close by. In Christ Church Meadow, they could run, and the news teams with their heavy equipment would struggle to follow. The meadow, though, was locked at dusk, and at a little before four o’clock in the afternoon, the December sky was already turning the rich blue of twilight. Dusk was an indeterminate time and they might, or might not, be lucky.

  Out of breath, they reached the entrance to see the groundsman standing by the gate as the last people left. Felix dragged Talitha through.

  ‘Hey,’ the groundsman called. ‘I’m shutting up.’ He stepped forward, perhaps to argue, although Felix and Tal were already some way along the darkening path, and in doing so, lost his chance to stop the other three. Xav pulled Amber through the half-open gate and Dan followed. Admitting defeat but only to a point, the groundsman pushed the gate closed and the journalists were shut out.

  ‘Keep moving,’ Felix said, as the others slowed to get their breath. Daniel, who looked on the verge of an asthma attack, had even produced a blue inhaler from his pocket and was sucking at it. ‘That’s a frigging big gate we’ll have to climb if we get shut in here.’

  He led them east along the Broad Walk, a wide gravel path that took them through the ornamental gardens at the side of Christ Church College.

  ‘That’s us on the evening news,’ Xav said. ‘Running for it as though we’ve everything to hide.’

  ‘My dad will kill me,’ Talitha said. ‘I promised him I wouldn’t go.’

  ‘Where’s he think you’ve been the last five days?’ Felix asked.

  ‘Library.’

  ‘They might not have caught us on camera.’ Dan still sounded out of breath. ‘We might get lucky. My folks won’t be thrilled either.’

  ‘Where will they take her?’ Amber asked, as they left the grandeur of Christ Church behind and the day darkened further. They were walking now between Christ Church Meadow and Merton Field.

  The others waited for Talitha to reply. Studying law at Cambridge, with access to her father’s expertise, she’d become the go-to on all legal matters.

  ‘Tonight, she’ll probably stay in Bullingdon where she’s been for the trial,’ Talitha said. ‘Over the next few days they’ll move her somewhere more permanent. Dad thinks Durham is the most likely. Women serving long sentences nearly always go there.’

  ‘Handy for you, Dan,’ Felix said, without a smile.

  Daniel, who’d just completed his first term reading classics at Durham, didn’t see the funny side either.

  ‘Were you expecting her to get that long?’ Amber asked Talitha.

  ‘Not here,’ Felix said, as Tal opened her mouth. ‘We need to get somewhere we can’t be overheard.’

  Dan turned a full circle. ‘The place is empty.’

  He didn’t care. ‘I’m taking no chances,’ Felix insisted.

  ‘Grab a coffee somewhere?’ said Xav, who wasn’t as warmly dressed as the others. ‘I’m freezing.’

  ‘We can’t,’ Talitha objected. ‘We’ve no idea who else will be in those places.’

  ‘Come to Queen’s.’ Amber named her Oxford college, not far from where they’d emerge at the other edge of the meadow. ‘I can sign you in. We can use the library. There’ll be no one there at this time.’

  They seemed to be waiting for Felix to agree, and he couldn’t think of a better plan. ‘Let’s go,’ he said and hurried them along even faster.

  They reached the river and turned north. Merton Field was on their left, the botanic gardens on their right. The gate at this end, being less frequently used than the main gate, was still open, and they left the meadow. Hurrying along Rose Lane, they crossed the high street and turned right into Queen’s College. Michaelmas term had ended, but the students still had access to the general areas. Amber signed them in at the porters’ lodge and then they followed her through the main quad and up the spiral staircase to the seventeenth-century upper library. All of them, even Felix and Xav, were out of breath by this time.

  Widely regarded as one of the most beautiful libraries in Oxford, the upper floor of Queen’s library was a long, oak-floored hall with freestanding cases filled with rare and venerable books. The carved ceiling was painted shades of white and pearl grey. The huge arched windows were black by this time. The room looked empty, felt empty, but Felix strode its length, checking each alcove between the giant bookcases. Satisfied, he came back to where the others had gathered around a reading table.

  ‘No one,’ he said. ‘We’re good.’ Even so, he kept his voice as low as the subdued reading lamps around them. They pulled out the red leather-backed chairs and sat, none of them removing their coats. The library wasn’t cold, but there was a sense among them that they might have to flee again at any time. Talitha kept her arms wrapped around her upper body, as though trying to warm herself; Daniel, inhaler in hand, glanced round at the spiral staircase every few seconds.

  For several long moments, no one seemed to have anything to say; no one could make eye contact with any of the others.

  ‘I didn’t think she’d go through with it,’ Xav spoke at last, but addressed his words to the polished oak table. ‘The last four days, especially today, I kept expecting to see her turn and point to us.’

  ‘Me too,’ Amber agreed.

  ‘She didn’t look at us once,’ Xav went on. ‘She must have known we were there but for four days, not a glance, until that last minute.’

  ‘I really thought that was it,’ Talitha said. ‘I was sure she was going to say something then.’

  Felix said, ‘Fair play to the girl – she’s got more balls than any of us.’

  Silence fell again. Downstairs, a muffled thud sounded, as though a book had been dropped. Daniel, who’d been jumpy as a kitten since the accident, got up and walked silently to the staircase. He peered down for several seconds before shaking his head and walking back.

  Daniel, in Felix’s head, was a
mixture of the soft, malleable copper – useful enough, but never going to set the world alight – and iodine, a dull substance that was displaced by just about every other element in its group. If there was a wimpy element, it was iodine. In his more generous moods, Felix admitted to himself that he wasn’t being entirely fair on Daniel, but God, when was the guy going to grow a pair?

  And what was with the inhalers? He’d never been asthmatic in school; he’d been a pretty decent cross-country runner.

  ‘Twenty years. I had no idea she’d get that long,’ Xav said. ‘Can she appeal?’

  Once again, everyone turned to Talitha.

  Tal had been the easiest of the lot. Pure mercury – the fascinating, irresistible metallic that took liquid form in standard conditions. Mercury was relentless and ruthless; it was smart, slippery, toxic as snakes. Exactly like Tal.

  ‘To be honest,’ she said, ‘I’m not entirely surprised. Dad said a couple of days ago he thought it wasn’t going her way. The fact she’d done it before’ – she held up a hand to stave off protests that might, but probably wouldn’t, have been coming – ‘I know, I know. But from the point of view of the court, it looked bad. The witness statement went against her. And the press coverage has been vicious. Public feeling isn’t supposed to impact trials, but it does.’

  ‘And the mental health assessment found her perfectly sane,’ Felix added.

  ‘“Curiously detached”, that’s what he said,’ Amber said. ‘That psychiatrist bloke, he said she was cold and distant, removed from what was going on around her and not properly grasping the significance of what she’d done.’

  ‘He also said she might have psychopathic tendencies,’ Daniel said. ‘Did you ever think that about her? I can’t say I ever did.’

  ‘She was lying through her teeth to protect us, no wonder she sounded weird,’ Xav snapped. ‘And I don’t know about any of you lot, but I’m not sure I can go through with this.’