Читать книгу Her Last Secret - P Kane L - Страница 12

The darkness was his friend tonight, he welcomed it.

That was one of the reasons Jake was sitting with the lights off, hadn’t bothered to even turn them on when he crashed in through the door. There was still enough light coming in from the window to see, to make his way to the edge of the bed, casting off his jacket as he went. He’d thought about one of the chairs, but reasoned – while he was still capable of doing so – that he would end up on the bed at some point anyway. Sooner rather than later, he hoped; he’d put the whole of this wretched day behind him and wake up the next morning to find it had all been some horrible nightmare. An anxiety dream, didn’t they call them?

Jake took another swig from the full bottle of whiskey he’d opened back in the corridor, pulling it from its plastic bag and ignoring the filthy looks some of the other people staying in the hotel were giving him. A place that hadn’t even been there when he was young, back before he and Jules had …

That was why he needed the darkness, because unlike those memories, unlike the past – dulled by time, by heartache – the ones from today were so, so bright. Like they’d been seared into his brain, would probably never, ever fade. And they hurt. By Christ, did they hurt, worse than anything physical he’d ever endured. These were wounds that wouldn’t, couldn’t ever heal as far as he could see.

And now, in spite of the way he was working his way down that bottle – having already been in the hotel bar the last few hours – those memories were playing out in front of him like a projector throwing out images on the cinema screen. Or a home cinema, like he had back at his own place: hi-def, the sound crystal clear. Maybe it helped to think of all this as a movie … No, he decided, shaking his head and almost falling off the end of the bed, it didn’t help at all.

That was still Matt, his old friend, now a copper, waiting for him when he pulled up outside his old home. Not some character in a script, not an actor playing a part, but his actual best buddy. Waiting there in the doorway to confirm his worst fears. That there hadn’t been some kind of mistake, a mix-up; you heard about those all the time in cases like this. Mistaken identity, people getting the wrong end of the stick. Families suing because of the trauma of getting it wrong.

But no. Matt’s face said it all. He knew this particular family, knew Jordan as well. He wouldn’t be putting them through this if there wasn’t just cause.

Jake couldn’t remember getting out of the car, or even closing the door again, locking it – that didn’t matter anyway, not in the great scheme of things – but suddenly he was at the door with Matt, who was just shaking his head. Didn’t have the words, clearly.

So Matt was stepping aside instead, letting Jake pass through. It felt weird to be back, and if this really had been a film he was directing or something, he would have noted how the carpets had changed; the wallpaper and pictures, photographs hanging from those walls. All reflecting how things had moved on, how it was no longer a place he shared with—

Suddenly there she was, in the living room: the woman he’d spent so many years with. The love of his life, he would have said at one time – still was, probably, there’d been no one else who’d been serious since her anyway. She was rising, albeit shakily, getting up off the couch. He was aware of someone else in the room, another woman standing, Matt saying something behind him, maybe trying to introduce her, something about liaising? Jake wasn’t really listening, because all he could see and hear was Jules.

Standing there, as striking as he remembered her with that auburn hair falling about her shoulders. Those freckles on cheeks that were still wet with tears, reminding him again why he was here. Her green eyes doing the same, moist, cloudy; looked like they could barely focus on him. Yet she knew who he was, instantly, just as he had when he walked in. There had always been that unspoken connection between them, they could always tell when the other one was nearby.

If he’d needed any more proof that she recognised him, she provided it by saying his name, though it came out as more of a squeak than anything; a noise that would have been comedic in any other circumstances. ‘Jake … Oh, Jake.’

She was shaking her head as well, just as he was back in that hotel again now – mirroring her actions, playing them out with her. Jake drank deeply from the bottle and watched as more of it unfolded, as he was about to go to her. About to take her in his arms and try to comfort her, if that was at all possible, drawn by that look on her face he’d seen many times before (not least when she’d told him she was pregnant), scared and in desperate need of a hug.

But then realising that there was yet another person in the room with them, someone who’d come through from the kitchen or even upstairs; yes, the sound of a toilet flush. Someone who’d shoved past Matt and caused Jake to start. Someone who’d skirted around this newcomer in his house. Who was stepping between them, ensuring that Jake could not reach Julie. Someone snaking a hand around her waist, not to try and tell her that it would all be okay, but telling everyone else that this woman was his property … that’s very much how Jake saw it, anyway.

The action made him feel physically sick and his eyes flicked away, coming to rest on another new addition to the décor of this house: their wedding photograph, Julie and Greg Allaway, the happy fucking couple. About two stone lighter in that, there was a meanness to the man’s face even back then. Jake had to ask himself again, as he did when he first heard the news: what the hell had Julie been thinking? And the answer, not that it was anything to do with him anymore, was that Greg had been there for her when Jake had not. But he also knew that in times of stress, people act hastily, act without thinking, and he had to wonder whether she regretted her decision now.

Especially when he forced himself to look back at them again, Greg still holding her in a vice-like grip. Her pleading face.

Jake steeled himself, then replied to her, his name still hanging in the air. ‘Jules. Is it …?’

She closed her eyes, squeezing more tears out, and nodded. His ex-wife also leaned in more closely to Greg, though whether that was because he was pulling her in Jake couldn’t tell.

‘It can’t be,’ said Jake, a part of him still unwilling to believe it. ‘What … what happened?’ He knew the broad strokes, though he’d had trouble taking them in over the phone. Jordan found on the market square, stabbed in the chest.

Dead.

That was when he was aware of Matt behind him again, moving into the room and joining his colleague … Linda something? Had that been her name? Everyone was standing now in that room, everyone paired up – except him.

‘All I can tell you at this time is that we have someone in custody who was fleeing the scene. Jordan’s boyfriend.’

‘Her what?’ Jake shook his head. ‘She had a new … I didn’t know.’ There had been a couple of guys she’d mentioned the last time they talked, but then there always were. Always had been. But nobody serious that Jake was aware of. Nobody she’d put that label on.

‘Why would you?’ This was Greg, grunting out the words.

Jake ignored him. ‘And … and he did this? Why?’

Matt shrugged. ‘We don’t know yet. He claims he didn’t do it, but …’

‘I … What was she even doing with this bloke, if he was … What was she doing out at all, at that time of night?’ It was a general question, speaking out loud, but without thinking he directed it towards Julie.

Then he saw it, the strength there as her face changed, as she straightened up and dried her tears with the back of her hand. Saw the feistiness that had been so attractive once, but could be lethal if you were on the wrong end of it – as he so often was towards the end. ‘What was she doing out? She was nearly 21 for heaven’s sake! Jordan could come and go as she pleased, she had her key.’ Twenty-one, key to the door and all that, though Jake knew she’d had one of those for a long, long time. She had been an adult, or acted like one anyway, for a good while. ‘And we don’t vet who she sees, Jake!’

‘Maybe you should have.’ The reply was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He couldn’t help it, a knee-jerk reaction.

‘Maybe you should keep your big mouth shut.’ Greg again, letting his wife go and moving forwards. In spite of himself, Jake was doing the same, teeth gritted. He needed someone to take all this out on; it might as well be the twat in front of him. His fists were already clenched, and now he couldn’t see anyone else apart from Greg.

Not even Matt, as he stepped between the two men and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. It wasn’t a tight grip, but there was strength there as well – enough to stop Jake and Greg in their tracks. ‘Maybe you should both calm down,’ he suggested.

Jake looked from Matt to Greg, and then gave a nod. He backed off, but it was a moment or two before his opposite number did the same, shrugging off Matt’s hand. It was only then that Jake glanced over at Julie again. She was looking daggers at the pair of them, didn’t need anyone to fight her battles for her. When she said her next words, she held Jake’s gaze and didn’t blink. ‘This wasn’t my fault,’ she said simply.

He sighed, and even after everything, he couldn’t help himself. Jake said, ‘No, it’s ours.’

She looked away, drawing in a breath and trying not to cry again. Trying not to let him see that she was crying. Love, hate. Two sides of the same coin.

‘Again, not really helping,’ Matt whispered to Jake.

He’d like to know what would at that precise moment in time.

There was silence for a few long minutes, then Linda suggested they all sit down again. Maybe have some more tea? But nobody did either of those things. In the end it was Matt who spoke again, breaking that silence which felt like it had gone on forever.

‘I hate to bring this up, but it’s probably as good a time as any.’ He paused before continuing, as if realising there would never be a ‘good’ time for whatever this was. He took in each of their faces one by one, putting off what he was about to say next. ‘There’s … folks, there’s still the matter of a formal identification.’

Julie let out a small wail at this, while Greg just stared at Matt. Jake frowned, processing the information, and then realised this was actually good news. If they hadn’t made an identification yet, didn’t that mean there was a chance – however slim – that it could still be someone else? Someone else’s kid? Once more, as he had done on the journey here, he felt that guilt at thinking such a thing. ‘I can do it,’ he said, eager to put this whole nonsense to bed. So he could take a look for himself and prove that it wasn’t Jordan.

Julie was gaping at him, probably wondering why he was in such a rush to see the dead girl, but he couldn’t explain it right there and then. That might ruin the hope building again inside, particularly if Matt was to say to them: ‘It’s just a formality, we’re 99 per cent sure it’s her.’ He couldn’t afford to hear that right now. Didn’t want to hear anything that might ruin the fantasy.

‘There you go, then,’ said Greg.

Julie was facing her husband now, still staring. ‘What?’

‘Let him do it, love. No need for you to get any more upset.’

‘Get any more …’ She couldn’t finish her sentence, Julie’s mouth was hanging open.

Greg obviously realised he’d said something wrong, but couldn’t figure out quite what. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘It’s okay, Jules … Julie,’ said Jake. ‘I’ve got this.’

She shook her head, first at Greg, then Jake. ‘W-We should both do that. Together.’

‘Julie,’ Greg said; it sounded more like a warning than anything. She flashed him another look that told him she was doing this, no matter what.

‘Okay,’ said Jake. In his own way he’d been trying to spare her the pain of this, if it did turn out to be Jordan – but she had the right to come along. More right than him, if anything.

Greg sighed. ‘Right, fine. Well, I’ll come too.’

‘Actually …’ It was Matt this time, chipping in. ‘It might be better if this was just family.’ Jake could see Greg was going to say something, going to point out that he was family, when Matt added, ‘Immediate family.’

Jake didn’t know whether those were actually the regulations – he didn’t think they were; not judging from the way the liaison woman’s eyebrows were raised – or Matt was just trying to avoid more trouble at the hospital, though it might cause trouble for Julie later on …

‘We can drive them,’ Matt said finally. No, thought Jake, it’s just that he hates this bloke as much as I do. Who could blame him?

Greg sighed again, though it came out more like a snort. ‘Right. Well, I suppose I’ll head off to work after all. If I’m not needed anymore.’ He looked to Julie and she didn’t say anything. This probably would all come back on her later, but Jake had to admit he was glad Greg wouldn’t be tagging along. ‘I’ll go and make sure they haven’t burned down the factory.’

Made it sound like he owned the bloody place, rather than just being an ‘operative’ as they called it at GWR Plastics just outside of town. Not that he could talk, Jake had worked his fair share of crappy jobs to help keep his family together back when they still were his family. A family that had included his wife and …

Julie still didn’t answer, just folded her arms.

‘Off to work it is, then,’ said Greg, and gave Julie a kiss on the cheek, like it was a normal weekday and their world wasn’t really falling apart. Jake couldn’t be sure, but he thought he detected the merest hint of a smile on Greg’s face as he left the room to get ready. Probably one of relief that he’d been let off the hook, that he could go and do something practical instead of having to deal with all this emotional shit. He would prefer to be at work with his mates anyway; wasn’t really his kid they’d found, at the end of the day.

Once Greg was out of the way, they waited for Julie to get her purse and coat, then Matt gestured for them to follow him. Julie was the last one out, with the liaison woman by her side, watching her like a hawk as the woman locked up; an automatic thing, done in a zombie-like way. Wasn’t a bad thing, they didn’t want the place burgled on top of everything else. But Jake couldn’t help thinking about the key to the door stuff again. How Jordan would never be using that again when she came home.

If it was her, he reminded himself. That’s what you’re going to find out for sure. Going as a family; the only one he’d ever really known since his mum had gone.

In the present, Jake drank more of the alcohol, feeling it burn as it went down his throat. Back then, in the car, they’d been in a little bubble and he could still pretend it wasn’t his little girl on that slab. He hadn’t yet seen her likeness. Once he had, and once he’d seen those marks, those scars, there’d been no denying it …

But he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from that face. That pale, blue face. It looked for all the world like she’d just wake up at any moment, like she used to do sometimes when she was little and he’d look in on her after a long shift at work. She’d open her eyes and blearily say: ‘Da … Daddy?’

‘Hey pumpkin,’ he’d reply, then kiss her on the head and tell her to go back to sleep.

He wanted anything but now. No more sleep, just wake up! People had been known to do that, right? There was a case not that long ago where a woman woke up in one of these drawers in a morgue. That could still happen, Jordan might still …

But Jake knew that all the straws were gone. No more clutching.

And still the tears wouldn’t come.

Time seemed to work so strangely that day, somewhere in the back of his mind he observed. Like the journey to Redmarket, which was quite a distance away but went by in the blink of an eye, with Jake lost in thoughts and remembrances. Lost in regrets. Then that walk up to the doorway, towards Matt, would only have been seconds in reality, but to him it took forever, because he didn’t really want to arrive at his destination. Didn’t want to know what – in his heart of hearts – he was already certain of. Similarly, the identification couldn’t have lasted more than five, ten minutes, including arguing with Julie (who’d come right out and said it: ‘You left her when she needed you the most!’), but was stretched out into a lifetime. And afterwards, in that hospital café, that went by so quickly as well, but by the time they’d left the hospital most of the afternoon had been eaten up, even if none of the food Matt bought them had.

They’d ferried Julie home again where the female police officer was going to stay with her. Probably make sure she had yet more tea. For his part, after he and his wife had said a cool goodbye to each other, Jake felt like he could definitely use something a lot stronger.

‘Listen,’ said Matt when his colleague had taken Julie back inside the house, turning to face Jake, ‘why don’t you come back to ours? Katherine would be fine with it, I’m sure.’

Jake was struggling to understand, to remember. Katherine was Matt’s wife, right? And … and didn’t they have a little kid? A boy? That was the last thing he wanted, to be around someone else’s happy family. He shook his head but managed to thank his friend for the offer.

‘You could have some dinner there or something and—’

Jake held up his hand. ‘I’m good thanks. I’m still not really that hungry.’ The thought of that sandwich Matt had placed in front of him back at the café had turned his stomach, let alone a full meal.

‘I just don’t think you should be on your … Hey, where do you think you’re going?’ Jake stared back, unblinking, the passenger door open. ‘You’re definitely not driving, mate. I don’t want to be getting called to a traffic accident today as well.’

Jake thought back to the journey here again, his mind elsewhere – on anything but his driving – and his near miss. Maybe Matt had a point.

‘Let me take you somewhere, a hotel for the night. I assume you’ll be sticking around for a while?’

He just continued to stare at Matt. He hadn’t been thinking further ahead than identifying Jordan, if he was honest.

‘Okay, listen. I know a good place on the outskirts, quite reasonable. I’ll take you there.’

Jake locked up his car and then placed a hand on Matt’s arm. He knew above everything else what he needed the most right now. ‘Can … can we make a stop off along the way?’ he asked.

Matt nodded, a little reluctantly – almost as though he could hear what Jake was thinking. He’d slanted it that they were stopping off at the supermarket for a toothbrush, perhaps some pyjamas – he obviously hadn’t had time to pack anything – but Matt knew what the real agenda was here, and although he looked on disapprovingly when Jake returned with just the one thing in the bag, there was no way on earth he was going to blame his friend for buying what he had.

Jake took yet another swig from that very bottle he’d purchased, that he promised not to start until he got to his room … and he’d pretty much stuck to that promise, hadn’t he? Matt hadn’t said anything about not making another pitstop in the hotel bar beforehand, had he? Had simply urged him to get some food inside him first, even if it was just a bag of crisps or two from a vending machine inside.

But Jake’s appetite still hadn’t returned by the time Matt was called away, a summons from the station he’d had to answer straight away apparently. Maybe something to do with the case? He hadn’t been allowed to say, but told Jake he’d be in touch again tomorrow.

‘Now, are you sure you’ll be all right?’ he’d asked, then from the look on his face he’d realised it was relative, that phrase. All right. ‘I can get someone out to come and stay with you if you—’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Jake had told him, knowing exactly what Matt was worried about – that he might do something stupid, especially after a few drinks. Stupid … that was also relative; he might do a lot of stupid things, but not that stupid. And when they locked eyes one final time, Matt could see Jake was still Jake. That wasn’t his way, even when things were at their lowest ebb he hadn’t even thought about something like that. He wasn’t a quitter.

Oh yeah? You bailed on her, though, didn’t you? Gave up on your only daughter when she needed you the most …

‘I’ll be fine,’ he repeated again. ‘Just need to be alone for a while. I need sleep, need this day to be over.’

Matt nodded, gave him his card in case he needed to reach him, said goodbye and drove off, leaving Jake to check in (Matt had brought him to some generic ‘Lodge’ or another) and then hit the bar. He was two or three pints down, having enough sense to start with lagers first, ease his way into oblivion, when he remembered his phone. Remembered that he hadn’t let work know where he was or what he was doing, although they’d probably figured it out by now. Had probably been camped out here all day, doing reports.

He’d turned it on and immediately found several voicemails from colleagues, Alison, Phil, Howard – even Sarah. And Trev, his boss – the media studies graduate who looked about 12. All concerned about him, wanting to know if he was okay and if he needed anything. Jake had sighed. Yes, he needed for things to go back to the way they had been. Not yesterday, or the day before, but many years ago when they’d all been happy: a happy family. Could they possibly sort that out for him please? Or perhaps that weird time thing that was happening could wind itself back instead of playing around with the speed … do some editing of the movie.

Jake had turned the phone off again, not wanting to speak to anyone at the moment, but vowing to put them in the picture tomorrow.

He’d been well into his mission to drink the hotel bar dry of their house whiskey, however, putting double after double on his room tab, when the TV had been turned on in the corner and the local news had thrown back pictures of the market square, of presenters who looked like Sarah doing their piece to camera. On any other day, it would have been him pointing that camera, but not today. He’d squinted at the television set, then at the barman who was looking sideways at him, looking at him funny like he was making that connection with the drinking.

The thin man, whose uniform was hanging off him like washing on a line, looked like he was about to say something. It would have been the only thing he’d said in all this time, if he had, apart from ‘What’ll it be?’, with a kill-me-now expression on his face …

Kill me …

But he’d wandered off to serve a couple of other customers instead. People were starting to filter in, because it was early evening now, and Jake knew that it wouldn’t be long before the TV people who were camped out in Redmarket started to check into hotels themselves.

Light was giving way to darkness, and it was time to take this ‘party’ back to his room. Time to welcome in the dark to get rid of those bright memories of the daytime. So Jake had levered himself off the stool, gripping his carrier bag tightly, and begun his trek to the lifts, swaying slightly as he went. He’d stabbed at the button for his floor once he was inside, then waited for the lift doors to open again. He’d reached into the bag, opening up the full bottle he still had and ignoring the glances from people who were just on their way out to start their evening proper. He didn’t give a shit, just needed to get to the room. Needed to get to the bed, needed to start on this bottle now, bring on the real darkness.

Because this was no good; the dark in the room wasn’t chasing away those bright memoriesthe movie still playing out in front of him. Only the booze could do that. More and more of it, with Jake wondering if maybe he should have picked up a couple of bottles rather than just the one.

Especially when he started having those telepathic conversations, not with Julie, but with Jordan. The kind he’d play out mentally whenever she wasn’t listening to him or wasn’t even around. Asking those questions again:

‘Why were you out on a weeknight, and with that guy?’

Getting answers like: ‘That’s my business, it’s got nothing to do with you, Dad. You wouldn’t understand.’

‘Try me … I was young once.’

‘I love him!’

‘No, you just think you do. Like all the others that ended up causing so much trouble.’

‘What, like you thought you loved Mum? That why you left and never came back, why she had to turn to a guy like … like him.’

‘I left because she didn’t want me around. You didn’t want me around, remember? Christ!’

Some part of him knew it was his own mind filling in the blanks, but it was based on knowing her like he did. Based on previous arguments they’d had, which he could trot out word for word.

And finally, that last one which neither of them could ever answer: ‘How did we get to this? How did we become strangers?’

Both at fault, neither giving any ground. He thought they’d have time – there it was again, that word, the strangeness, the trickiness of time. He thought they’d be able to fix things once enough time had passed. But time also had a way of running out.

Just like he was passing out, losing consciousness. His friend, not Matt, the other one – the darkness – embracing him.

Only to let go again in the middle of the night, the darkness outside almost matching the oblivion he was rising from. Waking up when he heard noises, sounds that his rational mind would have told him were people in the next room, or in the corridor …

Except, when he looked over into the corner of the room he thought he saw someone there. A shape.

‘Who …who’re …?’ he managed, but there was no reply. His hand, still wrapped around the practically empty bottle of whiskey, tightened its grip. If this was someone here to rob him, they’d really picked the wrong night.

However, as the figure moved closer, further into the room, he recognised its delicate features. A mixture of him and Jules, the figure holding out her hands – a different kind of darkness staining the middle of her chest. Opening her mouth, though he didn’t want to hear what she had to say:

‘You left me when I needed you the most. You left me …’

Not him putting words in her mouth now, but Julie’s from earlier, recycled.

‘You left me,’ she kept repeating over and over. ‘You left …’

Jake put his hands to his ears, still holding the bottle in one of them so that it stuck out at an odd angle. ‘No … No!’ he shouted, then when the voice wouldn’t stop, he threw the bottle at the opposite wall. But he couldn’t even get that right, and instead of smashing it just bounced off and hit the floor.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said for each accusation. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You left, you left, you left …’

‘I know, I’m sorry.’

The darkness, or this darkness at least, wasn’t his friend at all. It was showing him things he really didn’t want to see. His dead daughter getting closer and closer, so close he could see marks on her outstretched arms, and imagine the knife there sticking out. There was no getting away from today, from the memories, nor from what had happened.

‘No … please God, no!’ The tears were finally coming now, thick and fast. There was no holding them back at all. ‘No, I’m sorry. I … I can make it up to you,’ Jake said quickly, as if that would will the vision away. ‘I … I can … I can be there for you now, sweetheart.’

What was he saying? How could he be there for her when she was lying in that cold drawer with all the other corpses. What help could he be now? What use?

But that was the thing, he hadn’t been around when she’d needed him; hadn’t been a real dad to her. Hadn’t been there in the run-up to this, nor on the night of the murder itself when he should have been protecting her. (how, how could he have done that? She would never have let him!) It was all getting tangled up in his drunken mind, her words, Julie’s words, his; all mixed up and jumbled.

Except for one thing – how he could do something now. How he could help … Not to save her, because it was way too late for that – was probably too late even before he walked out of that front door … But to get to the bottom of this, find out what happened. Perhaps even avenge her. No, back to that stupid image of a knight on a white horse, riding to the rescue … not rescue, not this time.

It was there, though, that germ of an idea. Something he could do that wouldn’t leave him feeling completely useless. Something he could … And almost immediately, the image of his daughter faded, and he felt more at peace than he had all day – than he had in a long while. The worst thing he could have possibly imagined had happened, he couldn’t do anything about that now – there was no winding back time. So, moving forward, he had to get his head around what had happened. Knew what he needed to do, even though the police, even though Matt, had told him they were doing everything they possibly could.

And that thought, the thought that there was something positive Jake could do, sent him off to sleep again. Gave him the oblivion he sought.

Made the darkness his friend once more.