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Authors: Nicci French

Tags: #Suspense, #Fiction

Complicit (15 page)

BOOK: Complicit
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When the light outside the window started to soften and then thicken, we got up and showered, and went out to a tapas bar a few minutes from the flat. We ordered potato croquettes, mild green chillies, broad beans with mint, slices of thick omelette and salty cheese, and washed them down with a jug of cheap red wine. I was ravenously greedy, eating with my fingers and swallowing the wine in loose gulps.

We walked back to the flat, wrapped up in each other. He held me tight. I didn’t care what happened after. Nothing mattered any more. Only this.

After

‘What I want to know is, where the fuck is Hayden?’ Amos was pacing about the room with his guitar. His face was red, with heat or anger I couldn’t tell. ‘It’s getting beyond a joke.’

It was oppressively hot that Wednesday evening when we gathered for our rehearsal in my long-suffering friend’s house. He was there this time, but had retired to his bedroom. I had wanted to cancel but Joakim reminded me fiercely that it was only just over a fortnight until 12 September and the wedding. We were certainly a ragged little group, not at all ready to perform.

‘I’m sure he’ll turn up,’ I said. ‘He’s only a bit late.’

Guy checked his watch again. ‘Nearly half an hour. Something’s up.’

‘What do you mean?’ Sonia sounded very calm, genuinely interested in what he had to say.

‘Have you heard from him, Bonnie? Did he ever answer your message?’

‘No.’ That at least was true.

‘It’s not good enough.’

‘You know what he’s like,’ I said. ‘He’s probably gone off with his band.’

‘He’s not with his band.’ We turned to Joakim. ‘I went to one of their gigs a couple of days ago. He wasn’t there. They had a crap evening, I can tell you,’ he added with relish. ‘Without Hayden, they’re nothing.’

‘I don’t know why you’re not more worried.’ This was Sonia again. I stared at her with incredulity. ‘I mean, how long’s it been?’

‘Only a week,’ I said. Then, through the fog of my thoughts, I grasped what she was doing: my normal, natural reaction should be anxiety. ‘Actually, maybe that’s quite a long time,’ I added.

‘It certainly is, for people who take their responsibilities seriously!’ Amos’s voice rose. Sonia laid a hand on his shoulder, and I could see how she soothed him. The tension left him and he smiled gratefully at her, and she smiled back, and I thought: They’re having a love affair, or if they aren’t they will be soon. More than that, they’d be good for each other – or, at least, Sonia would be good for Amos, calming his intemperate nature, not minding his irritability. She’d look after him, because that was what she was good at and what she took pleasure in doing. I hadn’t been like that with Amos, and with Hayden there had been nothing rational or patient about us. We’d been heading for a wall together. But still: my ex-partner, the man I had thought I would maybe live with for ever – or, at least, as near to for ever as someone like me could imagine – and my closest friend. Closer than ever now. My accomplice, bound to me by guilt and secrecy. The thought shot through me: Has she told him? As if she sensed my concern, Sonia turned her head and gave me a quick, private smile.

‘Wherever Hayden’s got to, we should carry on as if he isn’t coming back,’ I said. ‘We can do it without him. Joakim can play guitar. The rest of us can fill in the gaps.’

‘No,’ said Joakim. He was almost frantic, his thin face flushed with excitement. ‘We can’t just go on without him as if it’s no big deal.’

‘Jo…’ began Guy, as if he were a small child, and Joakim swung round.

‘You’re pleased, aren’t you? He showed you up and he made me question my life in a way you didn’t like. You don’t
want
him to come back, do you?’

‘Don’t be childish.’ But Guy was clearly aghast, and a horribly awkward silence filled the room.

‘Let’s take the second song,’ I said brightly.

‘Joakim’s right, we should probably do something,’ Guy said, making an obvious effort to stay calm.

‘What do you think?’ Sonia turned to Neal, who was hunched on a chair with a hand over his face as if he were nursing toothache.

‘Like Bonnie said, we should assume he’s not coming back and get on without him.’

‘Crap,’ said Joakim. ‘Fucking crap.’

‘Joakim!’

‘He’ll just have gone off somewhere,’ continued Neal. His voice was low and dull and we had to strain to hear what he was saying. ‘That’s who he is. He picks people up and drops them, uses them and uses them up. Let’s get this over with so we can put it all behind us. Hayden’s gone, scarpered. Right?’

‘You’re not in a very jolly mood,’ said Amos, pugnaciously. ‘What’s up?’

‘Second song, you say, Bonnie?’ asked Sonia.

‘We should check his flat,’ said Joakim.

‘He’s right,’ said Sonia.

‘I agree,’ I made myself say, against all my instincts. ‘Something might have happened.’

‘Where is it, though? I thought he was just staying on friends’ floors at the moment.’

‘Bonnie knows,’ said Amos, helpfully. ‘It’s Liza’s flat and Bonnie arranged it. Hayden was staying there while Liza’s travelling – right, Bonnie?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I tried ringing him there as well. There was no answer.’

‘We’ll just go and have a look, then,’ said Joakim. He wasn’t going to give up. ‘What’s the address?’

‘Now?’

‘When else?’

‘We don’t have a key,’ Sonia objected. ‘We can’t just break in.’

‘No, certainly not,’ I agreed. I had the key on my key-ring, which was in my bag, a few feet from me. I almost thought it would start flashing some message into the room.

‘Why can’t we?’ said Joakim. ‘He might be ill.’

‘Tell you what.’ Guy was talking to his son, trying to make amends for something. ‘Let’s do this sensibly.’ He turned to me. ‘Liza gave you a key, right?’

‘Which I gave to Hayden.’

‘Did she say anything about leaving a spare with a neighbour or anything?’

‘Um, I’m not sure.’

‘I’ll bet she did,’ said Joakim.

‘Why don’t we contact this Liza and ask her if anyone has a spare key? Just tell her Hayden’s away and we need to water the plants.’

‘Contact her?’ I said stupidly.

‘Text her,’ said Joakim.

‘She’s on the other side of the world. I don’t want her to be worried about her flat and lost keys.’

‘What are we going to do, then?’

I took a deep breath and said what I would have said if I hadn’t been the woman who had dragged Hayden’s body out of the flat in a rug. ‘We should go round there and check things are OK.’

‘Right!’ Joakim was on his feet and almost heading for the door.


After
the rehearsal, Joakim,’ I said, and he subsided.

‘Now let’s practise. Second song.’

Sonia had a lovely voice. It had never been trained and it wasn’t perfect by any means but it was strong, slightly husky, and had a plangent tone that suited the music. Also, she had a kind of charisma, the same quality that kept thirty fifteen-year-olds bent over chemistry formulae. Now she sang about her sweetheart, while Neal barely held the tune, Joakim played tempestuously, and Guy lost the beat. She managed to hold the group together as if all she was thinking about was the music.

‘Great,’ I said, at the end. ‘That was the best yet.’

‘Shall we go, then?’ said Joakim, putting away his violin, and snapping the clasps of the case.

‘OK.’ I tried to sound unconcerned. ‘No time like the present.’

Before

‘I’ve spoken to Liza, and you can stay here for the next couple of weeks as long as you water her plants,’ I said to Hayden.

‘Sure.’

‘I mean, really water them. Every day. Keep them alive. She’s very attached to them. They’re like her surrogate children.’

‘Right.’

‘And don’t make a terrible mess.’

‘You sound like someone’s mother.’

‘Only because you’re like a child.’

‘Am I?’

‘Yes. Here’s the key.’ He pocketed it. ‘She’s left a spare with the man upstairs.’

‘Why couldn’t he have watered the plants?’

‘Because she doesn’t trust him to. Don’t you want to stay here?’

‘Of course I do. It’s great. I’ll water the plants and vacuum the floor, and I’ll buy her a thank-you present before I leave.’

After

‘Odd little road,’ said Guy, as we turned into the lane leading to Liza’s flat. ‘It feels like something forgotten about. They could build some flats here.’

‘That’s what Liza’s scared of,’ I said. ‘There are only a couple of houses in it, and this garage.’ It was deserted, its shutters closed and its iron sign flapping at the hinges. It was nearly nine o’clock and the light was softening, giving even the scrubland a ghostly air and making the rather dingy little lane almost picturesque. ‘It’s the one at the end that backs onto the railway line.’

I could scarcely believe that I was standing at the front door once more. I pressed the bell and waited.

‘He’s obviously not going to answer,’ said Joakim. ‘Ring the other bell.’

I pressed it reluctantly, praying that no one would answer.

‘I don’t think anyone’s here,’ I said, after a few seconds.

‘Hang on.’ Joakim pressed the bell several times, leaning on it as if that would make the sound louder. ‘I think I can hear someone.’

Sure enough, footsteps were coming rapidly towards the door.

The man who opened it was young and dark-skinned, with huge glasses and a fringe. I had seen him before, but he didn’t seem to remember me. ‘Hello,’ I said. ‘Sorry to trouble you.’

‘Yes?’

‘I’m a friend of Liza’s.’

‘Liza’s away.’

‘I know.’

‘Have you got a key to her flat?’ Joakim broke in eagerly.

The young man transferred his gaze from me to him. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘We urgently need to get into the flat. Have you got a key?’

‘If I had a key, why should I let you in?’

‘Have
you?’

‘My son isn’t explaining himself very well,’ said Guy. ‘A friend of ours has been staying in the flat and we’re worried about him. We want to check that he’s all right.’

‘A friend?’

‘Hayden,’ said Joakim. ‘Hayden Booth. He might be ill. He might need our help. He’s not answering the phone or coming to rehearsals. You have to let us in.’

‘Do you have the key?’ asked Guy.

‘How do I know you’re who you say you are?’

‘My name is Guy Siegel,’ said Guy, in a ridiculously pompous tone. ‘I’m a solicitor.’

‘Solicitor? What’s he done, this friend of yours?’

‘No, that just happens to be my job. We simply want to make sure everything’s OK.’

‘Bonnie is Liza’s friend,’ said Joakim.

‘Oh, are you Bonnie? Why didn’t you say?’

‘Sorry?’

‘You’re the one Liza left to water her plants. She told me about you. So you knew I’d got the key in the first place.’

‘Did I?’

‘She said she’d told you.’

‘Oh. Well. I must have forgotten.’

‘Can we have the key, then?’ Joakim was practically hopping from foot to foot, as if he thought Hayden needed to be rescued at once.

‘Sure. Wait a minute.’ He ran up the stairs and reappeared almost immediately. ‘Here you are. Just pop it back when you’re done.’

But Joakim hadn’t finished. ‘Have you see Hayden recently?’

‘I dunno. Has he gone? He was definitely here a few days ago. I think his girlfriend was staying for a bit.’

‘I didn’t know he had a girlfriend. Did you, Bonnie?’

‘Let’s go and take a look,’ I said, turning towards Liza’s flat entrance so they wouldn’t see my cheeks burning.

‘When was that exactly?’ asked Joakim, still not moving.

‘Let’s think. Five days ago? A week? More? I don’t know. I wasn’t really paying attention.’ A worried expression crossed his face.

‘It’s fine. Thanks for your help,’ I said. ‘Come on, you two.’

I put the key into the lock, pushed open the door and stepped inside. For a moment, like the last time, I half expected Hayden’s rotting body to be lying on the floor, blood puddling around his head and his arm outflung, his fingers curled. The burning in my chest made breathing painful.

‘Hello,’ called Guy, stepping into the room after me. ‘Hello? Hayden? Are you here?’

‘Hayden,’ echoed Joakim. ‘Hello.’

I couldn’t make myself shout his name. After all I’d done, it would only have been a small moment of hypocrisy but it wasn’t possible. I just waited, or pretended to wait.

‘No one’s here,’ I said.

‘Let’s have a look around, then,’ Guy said.

‘Look for what?’ I said, and then, at the very moment I was saying the words, I really did see something.

‘Maybe there’s a clue to show where he’s gone so we can call him up and shout at him.’

‘What?’ I said stupidly. I hadn’t been able to pay any attention to what he was saying because there, quite casually draped over the back of the chair by the wall, was my light grey cotton jacket. I was overwhelmed by a sort of madness. This was what madness must be like, when there seems to be no fit, no proper cause and effect, between the inner and the outer world. I could make no sense of what was happening. Possessions of mine from this flat had been delivered to me in a package and now this piece of clothing was here to incriminate me. Who was doing this to me? What was the point?

It took me a few more long seconds to remember that I was the person who had left the jacket there. I made myself concentrate and I could clearly remember taking it off before I helped Sonia clear up. And then, if it’s possible to remember an absence, I could now remember not putting on the jacket when we left – or, rather, I couldn’t remember putting it on, and I definitely hadn’t been wearing it for the rest of that night. Yet I had returned to the flat since that awful evening and still failed to see it. Was I asking to be caught?

Guy and Joakim were wandering around what was really a theatre set that Sonia and I had created. Guy looked at the mail on the floor inside the door and flicked through it. ‘There’s nothing here for him,’ he said.

‘I don’t think he’s the kind of guy who gets much mail,’ said Joakim.

‘Everybody gets mail,’ said Guy.

I wanted to say something but I couldn’t think of anything normal and noncommittal.

‘I don’t get mail,’ said Joakim.

‘I meant all adults – but maybe Hayden doesn’t count as an adult.’

I had to force myself not to look. Instead I pretended to examine objects I had arranged.

‘The kitchen,’ I said suddenly.

‘What?’ said Guy.

‘Do you think it might be worth checking out?’ I said. ‘People keep lists there. To-do lists. Attached to the fridge with a magnet.’

It sounded incredibly feeble and Guy seemed doubtful. I made myself speak in a lighter tone. ‘You could check out what he keeps in his fridge at the same time.’

Even using the present tense took an effort. ‘Keeps’ not ‘kept’. As far as Joakim and Guy were concerned, Hayden was somewhere at this moment doing something. Perhaps he was just about to walk through the door. They were able to feel irritated or puzzled by him in the way you can’t feel about people once they’re dead. You can hate them or love them, you can mourn them, but you can’t be irritated by them, you can’t resent them. Guy looked very irritated indeed, muttering to himself as he made his way, slightly reluctantly, towards the kitchen. Joakim followed, probably out of a genuine interest to see what Hayden had in his fridge.

I crossed the room and snatched the jacket off the chair. I looked around desperately. I didn’t have a bag with me and my mind wasn’t working clearly enough. I simply couldn’t decide whether trying to hide it was a foolish risk. I heard some noises from the other room. For lack of any other idea, I slipped the jacket on. I heard voices, getting louder. They were coming back. All that mattered was the first couple of seconds. I’d heard of experiments – if you were distracted, it was amazing what you didn’t notice. On the mantelpiece was a slim black vase, elegant, expensive and fragile. I took it in my hands and as they came into the room I let it fall. It shattered on the stone fireplace. ‘Shit,’ I said.

The two ran forward.

‘What the hell was that?’ said Guy.

‘It was a vase,’ I said. ‘Oh, God, that was so clumsy. I feel awful.’

Guy gave a grim smile. ‘Not to worry. If we dispose of the bits, it can safely be blamed on Hayden.’

‘That sounds terrible.’

The two of them cheerfully mocked my incompetence as they found a dustpan and brush and swept up the pieces. They didn’t say a thing about the jacket. The diversion had worked. It was also because they were men, of course. If Sally had been with me, a hundred broken vases wouldn’t have stopped her asking where the jacket had suddenly appeared from.

‘So, are we done?’ I said, when the fragments of what was probably a family heirloom of Liza’s had been tipped into an old shopping bag.

‘I guess so,’ said Joakim, disconsolately, glancing at his father.

Guy was still looking around discontentedly. I was feeling physically sick as I thought about what I’d done and what I’d almost allowed to happen. Sonia and I had rearranged the flat, adjusted furniture, removed evidence and then I had left my jacket on the back of a chair for anyone to find. If I’d done that, what else had I forgotten about? The fact was that there were just so many things that needed arranging, concocting, concealing, lying about, and I only needed to get one wrong. It was a matter of concentration, but what was the activity of mind that would allow me to find the things I had forgotten or omitted? It would stay like that for the rest of my life unless it all went wrong and everything was exposed. The prospect of discovery suddenly seemed almost restful.

‘You didn’t find anything in the kitchen?’ I said, trying to control the tension in my voice.

‘You know the funny thing?’ said Guy.

‘No,’ I said. ‘What?’

‘The point about Hayden is that he’s a wild, spontaneous musician, right? He suddenly doesn’t turn up at a rehearsal and doesn’t trouble to inform us, and we’re supposed to think he’s left town, he’s back on the road, that he got some gig he couldn’t turn down.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Did he really live here?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Of course he did. There’s a case in the corner of the room that’s clearly his, and I saw some shirts hanging in the wardrobe, among this Liza’s clothes. There were a couple of beers in the fridge – but it doesn’t look like the sort of place a rock-and-roller just walked out of. There’s no milk gone off in the fridge, no screwed-up shirts tossed in the corner, no old newspapers.’

I made myself not reply, just concentrated on keeping my breathing steady. What was his point?

‘You know what I think?’

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.

‘I don’t think this was sudden at all. I think he was planning to leave well in advance. The fact that he didn’t tell us was just his way of saying a big “fuck you” to us.’

‘Dad,’ began Joakim, in an angry, protesting tone.

‘He just thought we were a bunch of amateurs and he wanted to make sure we knew it. Doesn’t that sound like him?’

I saw Joakim’s expression of hurt and betrayal. ‘It might,’ I said.

‘There’s one way to find out,’ said Guy.

‘What?’

He didn’t answer, but began rummaging in the drawers of the little table.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Searching,’ he said mysteriously.

‘What for?’

‘Well, where’s his passport, for instance?’

‘Why do you want his passport?’

‘I don’t. But I want to see if it’s here, because if it isn’t it means he’s taken it with him, and if he’s taken it with him, he’s gone off somewhere. End of story. Where else would he have kept it?’

I followed Guy as he pulled open drawers, lifted up papers, even pushed his hand into Hayden’s jackets and trousers.

‘No passport,’ he said triumphantly, to Joakim. ‘No passport, no wallet, no phone. Face it, he’s done a runner.’

‘He wouldn’t do that.’

‘And
,’ continued Guy, as he went into the bathroom, ‘no toothbrush, no razor. He’s gone, son.’ His face softened at Joakim’s stricken expression. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

‘You’re not sorry. You’re glad. You thought he was a bad influence on me.’

‘We had our differences. But I’m sorry it ended like this,’ said Guy. ‘I know what you felt about him.’ He put a hand on Joakim’s shoulder, but Joakim wrenched himself free and half ran back into the living room.

‘We ought to go,’ I said, following him. ‘He’s not coming back here.’

‘He left his guitar,’ said Joakim, pointing at the case propped against the sofa.

‘Is that his?’ I asked stupidly.

‘He would never have left that. He loved it.’

Joakim knelt down, opened the case and drew it out. He stared at its splintered body and broken strings, touching them gently with his fingers as if they were flesh and he could heal them. ‘It’s wrecked,’ he said at last. ‘Who did that?’

‘He did, of course,’ Guy said. ‘Who else?’

‘No. You don’t understand. That would be like punching someone he loved.’

‘Yes? People do that all the time.’

‘We have to go,’ I repeated. My skin was prickling with dread. I felt I couldn’t stay another minute in this place, that if we didn’t leave very soon, I was going to say or do something terrible.

I pulled the door shut behind us and went up the next flight of stairs to hand back the key.

‘Any luck?’ the young man asked.

‘He seems to have moved on.’

‘It’s probably not relevant, but I did hear strange noises coming from the flat.’

‘Oh?’

‘I don’t know when, though. I just thought it was him and his girlfriend.’

‘It probably was.’

Before

There was daytime, when I scraped off wallpaper, met friends, sat in the park plugged into my music, or shopped. There was nighttime, when I lay in the darkness with Hayden, the headlights from cars striping the ceiling of the bedroom where we clung to each other, inflicting pleasure. These were different worlds and it seemed as if there was no connection between them. Feeling glazed and unreal, I would look at myself in the mirror and scarcely recognize myself. Sometimes I was scared, but not scared enough to stop.

‘I nearly went out with Neal.’

I was sitting in Sonia’s car, and she was driving me to her sister’s house in a village in Hertfordshire, where we were going to have lunch and then pick strawberries at a pick-your-own farm nearby. It was Sonia’s idea – it wasn’t the kind of thing I would ever have thought of doing. She said she was going to make jam for all her friends this year.

BOOK: Complicit
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