One Night (18 page)

‘There was another message.’

I looked at her, trying to figure
out why there would be need for separation in the information she was handing
me.

‘Well, give it to me then.’

‘This came through the post.’

She handed me an opened envelope.
My name was printed in large capitals above c/o Marse & Peters. I felt
annoyed. ‘This was something private,’ I said, sounding stupid. ‘Nobody should
have opened this but me.’

‘Mr Marse said that any
communication coming in for you had to be stopped and vetted.’

I felt a flare of anger. They were
treating me like a child. But then, I knew they meant well. I opened the
envelope and took out the paper enclosed.

Dear Casey,

I need to meet with you. Can we
meet for coffee? Anywhere you choose. I feel we need to sort things out. Trust
undone is a difficult thing to re-stitch. I know that. You have always been for
me, an extraordinary woman, so different from the rest. Always so strong, so
independent. Sometimes finding that right person in life is difficult –we make
the wrong connections. But you, Casey – you’re the woman I want. I would like
some time to clear things up between us. It’s very important to me. Come to the
coffee shop across the road after work if you want – and allow me to straighten
things out.

It wasn’t signed. And the tone was different. But it didn’t matter. I knew it
was Brent. He was running scared. If a trial was to come up, he would need me on
his side. Or at least neutral. It was possible that anything I said might lie between
him and a life in prison. Of course he wanted to meet with me. Of course he
wanted to patch things up – lie, cheat, postulate crazy explanations and
profess his innocence. What an achievement if he could butter me up and keep me
cozily on his side.

I put the paper down.

‘Is it him?’ Abieda asked.

‘Yes, it’s him.’

‘What a fucking cheek!’

I nodded, feeling hot. Sweat was
beading under my hair. ‘He’s a real piece of work.’

‘I’ve seen his picture in the
paper,’ she breathed. ‘We’re going to keep an eye out for him.’

I warmed to her. Good women friends
were better than anybody in a crisis. They always understood how you felt. I
said, ‘What made you want to show me this stuff?’

‘When we heard you’d moved back to
your flat alone, Nicky and I thought you should know. Make you more aware, more
prepared. Maybe to make a better decision than staying alone.’

I closed my eyes, shook my head. My
thoughts were buzzing. I would have to think of my next move.

Abieda went on, ‘I’d ask you to
come and stay with us, but – ’ she shrugged ‘Fatima…’

I smiled. ‘No, that’s kind of you
but impractical.’

I sat staring at her, wishing I had
a gun. There was no way I could go back to my mother. I simply wouldn’t give
her the satisfaction that she may have been right. I couldn’t go to the police
again and complain about Brent because, in truth, what did I have? Some rude
phone calls, a letter calling for a civilized meeting in a coffee shop for
purposes of explanation and reconciliation. What was that? DI Cartwright would
probably not move from his desk. And yet I was frightened. Amazing what words
could do. Worse than physical attack because you didn’t know how to fight back,
didn’t know who your adversary was out there in the dark, or where he waited.

I tucked the letter into my bag.
‘This is bizarre,’ I said. ‘This man is so desperate to escape the consequences
of what he did. It makes me sick.’

‘He tried to rape you, didn’t he?’

Her words clawed at me. I remembered
the weight of his body on mine on that lonely road. ‘Well, I’m not sure. He
certainly meant me harm.’ I signaled for the waitress to take the remainder of
my pizza away. ‘But there is something I need to know.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I want to know why he killed Mona.
I can guess at it – and be pretty sure I’m right. But I want to hear it from
him. I want him to explain how something could have been so important that it
warranted her death. That’s what I want to know.’

‘Does that mean you’ll see him?
You’ll go to the coffee shop after work?’

I made a wild decision. ‘You’ll
come with me.’

She was dubious. ‘Do you think it’s
safe?’

‘You’ll sit somewhere else and take
a picture when he approaches. So I’ve got something to show to the police.’

Abieda was warming to this. ‘When
will we do this?’

‘On Monday.’

Her eyes were shiny, intent. ‘Maybe
Nicky can come. And I’ll ask Fatima. She is very good with details.’

I suddenly felt apprehensive. I
could just imagine them all laughing and giggling and staring, making a
spectacle of themselves. Totally the wrong thing. I was already regretting my
suggestion.

‘We’ll see,’ I said. ‘We’ll plan
things on Monday.’

Restlessly, I pushed away from the
table. Monday seemed very far away. Tonight was much closer, lying between me
and home like a dark portal. I looked down at the menu because I didn’t want
her to read anything in my expression.

‘Are we doing pud?’

I said goodbye to Abieda outside the restaurant.

‘You’ll phone me when you get
home,’ she insisted.

‘Don’t be daft.’

‘You phone,’ she warned, her eyes
large.

She hugged me and disappeared into
the throng. I crossed the road and took a bus home. It wasn’t late, just after
nine, and there weren’t many people on the bus: a woman with two little girls
dressed as fairies who had obviously been to a party, each carrying a pink box
stuffed with goodies which kept them quietly absorbed; an elderly man reading
the paper; two older women who seemed upset with someone called Elgar,
nattering on about the poor man all the way; two youths looking pale and limp and
so patently trying to look older than they were, it was laughable.

I stared out at the lights passing
by. The notes in my bag loomed large in my mind. Obviously Brent had been
trying to contact me in a public way. He hadn’t accosted me on the street,
instead he had tried my work. He had left threats with the receptionist and
then asked to meet me at a café. It didn’t make sense. But what would make
sense about a man like that? He had killed Mona, tried to kill me – or at least
harm me. Was I supposed to believe that he just wanted to chat after telling me
that I had something coming to me? Maybe he regretted that and knew he had to
make amends in a hurry.
Maybe maybe maybe …
everything ran round my head
like a song half-remembered and frustratingly persistent.

I got off at my stop. There was a
DVD shop on the corner that seemed busy, a café, chemist and a restaurant, a
take-away Greek outlet. A boy went past on a skateboard and a woman was arguing
about the price of the vegetables at the café. I walked past the bright
busyness. A man said, ‘
Oi
! Gotcha!’ And pretended to take my photograph.
I gave him a look and walked on. In a while the road grew quieter and darker. I
turned towards my block of flats which were not far down the next road. I could
see the lights on the front path and rooms lit up without curtains drawn. The
block rose out of the gloom like a passenger liner.

Streetlights threw pale pools along
the road. I counted the pools to the door of my block. Seven. In between the
brighter cast areas, shadows curved sharply. A group of people stood arguing outside
one house, and two young men were standing beside a parked car, its bonnet in
the air. A door banged and I jumped. A woman was shouting. Somewhere in the
distance there was the beat of heavy rock music. A cat fence-danced towards me
as I passed, then stopped, looking into the shadows behind me. I didn’t turn
around. My doorway was only one pool of light away.

‘Casey.’

The voice came out of the dark easy
as a caress, a familiar tone. Hatred is a defense in itself, it can make you
strong. I turned.

‘What are you doing here?’

Todd Pennington seemed to sift from
the dark, forming a shape as he stepped into the light. His dark hair reflected
black in the toneless shadows. He said easily, ‘I wanted to see how you were.’

‘At this time of night?’ My voice
was steady but deep inside, something had started to shake.

‘I came by earlier but you were out
so I had a couple of drinks down the road, and waited.’

‘You’re following me!’

‘I’d hardly call it that.’

‘Well, just leave me alone.’

‘I know you don’t think so, Casey
but I’m your friend.’

‘Friends are by invitation only.’

He snorted. ‘Don’t be daft. I’ve
known you since you started going out with Stephen.’

I scrabbled in my bag for my keys.
But made no move to enter my block. Standing outside on the pavement was safer.
If I had to run, I would run down the street and back to the shops.

‘I think I’ve made my position
quite clear,’ I said. ‘I don’t want you visiting me.’

His eyes kinked in amusement. ‘Not
a social call. I simply came by to see if you were all right. And in fact, I
was asked to do so.’

Two and two. ‘My mother asked you
to check on me?’

‘In a nutshell, yes.’

I was furious. ‘There’s no need for
you to do that.’

‘I always do what a lady asks.’

He was smiling. I looked up into
his neat, square face with the big jaw, widespread grin. He was tall, muscular,
and much too close. His presence should have given me a sense of security but
somehow I felt the opposite. If he didn’t mean me harm, he didn’t mean good
either.

‘Then I’m asking you not to worry
about this,’ I said as evenly as possible. ‘I appreciate the favour and the
sentiment, but it’s not what I want.’

He shifted, eyes on mine. ‘What is
it that you want, Casey?’

‘To be left alone. Can’t you get
that? Can’t anybody get that?’

Folding his arms, he stepped back. He
looked huge, a block of darkness in the light under the lamp. ‘Your mother
wants me to keep an eye on you until this whole thing is over. There’s a lot of
legality to get through and she just wants to know that you won’t be harassed
by this Brent character during this time. Just doing my job, ma’am.’

There was a tinge of sarcasm in
this last word.

I took a breath. ‘This whole thing
could drag on for months. I can’t expect you to hang around me all that time. I
just don’t want it, okay? I don’t care what my mother said!’

He made pretense at a salute. ‘I’ll
see you to your door.’

‘No, you won’t –
hey!
’

He had me by the arm. ‘Stop making
a fuss. I will see you to your door and I will leave. Okay? Stop struggling!
Jeez
,
you’re a difficult little number!’

We were now just outside the double
glass doors to the foyer.

‘If you don’t let me go, I’m going
to scream.’

‘Don’t be stupid, for Christ sake!
I’m walking you to your door! Your mother’s worried sick about you. I’m
protecting you!’

‘No, you’re not!’

Struggling, we pushed our way into
the foyer.

He paused. ‘What do you mean? Of
course I’m protecting you.’

I wanted to say,
you’re a conniving,
underhand bastard.
Instead I said stiffly,
‘You will try to get into
my flat and assault me.’

He gave a stifled laugh. ‘That’s
just crazy talk. Whatever gives you that idea?’

‘You were very aggressive the last
time.’

He gave this a moment, then said, ‘I
see you’re very sensitive. You take things the wrong way. Well, then, I promise
I will see you to your door and no further.’

‘Leave me here. Here’s fine.’

‘I will leave you at your door.’

He was pushing me firmly but gently
enough, towards the lift. I had no option but to move as he wished. I clutched the
keys in my bag. We rode the lift in silence. Todd was watching me with that
strange cross of derision and indulgence, as though he found me worthless and
fascinating all at once. It was extremely uncomfortable. I sensed his
attraction and animosity wrapped in the same look. I had the unsettling feeling
that he hated women. In his eyes women’s sexual power wound through their
vulnerability like a thread of steel, giving them control way beyond muscle.
And he resented it.

We stepped out on my floor. My door
was almost opposite the lift doors. I had the key ready…hurried forwards, inserted,
turned…

‘All right,’ Todd said. ‘I’ll leave
you here. You’ll be all right now.’

The door swung inwards. Warily, I
turned to look at him. There was a curious moment when we just looked at each
other. I could think of nothing to say. The automatic and obligatory ‘thank
you’ hung between us like a torn flag. I would not say it.

Todd leaned in. ‘You must be
careful coming up here on your own.’ He turned his head. ‘That staircase at the
back – nice hidey-hole if someone was waiting for you.’

‘Thanks.’ Sarcasm dripped. My knees
were shaking.

‘Just saying.’

‘Yeah, well, goodnight, Todd. Give
my love to Shannon. And don’t do this again.’

‘Can’t promise that.’

I edged into the flat, primed the
Yale, grasped the handle. ‘Yes – uh – fine. Goodnight then.’

I pushed the door. His foot slipped
in neatly as if he’d practiced the move.

‘Casey – ’

My heart ballooned in my chest.

‘ – will you come out with me? On
Sunday? Shannon’s got a rehearsal and I’ll be at a lose end.’

Was he an idiot?

‘I’ve told I won’t go out with you
while you’re going out with my best friend.’

He leaned towards me, that square,
strong jaw, good-looking face with the dimple in the right cheek, only inches
away from mine. ‘Your best friend is dead.’

For one heart-stopping moment I
thought he meant Shannon. Then I realized he was talking about Mona. Heat
pricked at my eyes. Tears of fury and bewilderment.