Dark Waters (11 page)

Col took a bus into town, but even on the short dash to the restaurant, he was soaked by the time he got there.

Dominic was waiting for him in the doorway. ‘We should have picked you up.’ He dragged him in out of the rain. ‘We’ve got a great table. Come on.’

This was the part he’d been dreading. Walking towards that table to face Mrs Sampson. Yet already she was standing, moving forward to greet him. Already she was smiling.

How could she do that?

She must know Mungo was the main suspect. The police would have told her that.

The answer was tugging at Col’s sleeve. Dominic.

‘Come and sit by me, Col,’ she said. ‘Take off that wet jacket.’

She called a waiter over and asked him to hang the jacket somewhere so it would dry.

‘How are you, Mrs Sampson?’

She didn’t get a chance to answer Col’s question. Ella did that. ‘Oh, she’s just wonderful. Half her furniture’s destroyed, and the other half’s been stolen. She’s just wonderful.’ Then she sneered at him. ‘Moron!’

‘Ella!’ her mother warned. ‘Be quiet!’

Ella wanted to say more. Spit out all the venom she’d been building up since the burglary, but her mother wouldn’t let her.

‘This is my birthday. I want to forget for a while. Have a nice meal. Just enjoy ourselves.’

It was the hardest two hours of Col’s life. They couldn’t talk about London. (London, a million years away now.) It reminded everyone of what they’d come home to.

I shouldn’t have come, Col thought, again and again. Yet, if they were willing to sit through this, how could he have refused? They wanted to show the world they trusted him.

If he could force Mungo to give everything back, he would. But even giving everything back wouldn’t make a difference. Too much had been destroyed.

Ella got her chance to confront him when her mother went off to the ladies room and Mr Sampson was paying the bill. ‘I don’t know how you had the nerve to come here, Col McCann. After what you did.’

‘Col didn’t do anything,’ Dominic almost shouted. ‘I’m going to tell Dad you said that!’

‘Shut up!’ Ella said it so fiercely, Dominic did just that. ‘I won’t get a chance to talk to you again. I hope I never set eyes on you, but I just want you to know how much I hate you. Why can’t you admit it was your brother? How could he do those things? We’ve only ever been nice to you – and your horrible family.’

‘It wasn’t Mungo—’ Col didn’t sound convincing, even to himself.

‘You know it was him. Just admit that. That’s all I’m asking, and maybe then I wouldn’t hate you so much.’

She glared at him, her teeth clenched tight. ‘Just say it!’ There were tears in her eyes. Tears of anger.

Col couldn’t hold that tearful, angry gaze. ‘It wasn’t him,’ was all he could say.

She pushed her chair back, threw her napkin on the table and stormed off.

‘She doesn’t like you, Col,’ Dominic said it so innocently that Col almost smiled. ‘But she’s the only one. My mum and dad think you’re brilliant. And you’re still my hero.’

He wasn’t anybody’s hero, Col thought bitterly. Maybe he never had been.

Mr Sampson got him a taxi home, and as he watched them through the driving rain he wondered if this really was the last time he would see them.

The storm was growing worse by the minute. Rain bounced off the pavements, and every few minutes the sky was lit up by the lightning. The wildest storm he had seen in a long time.

But there was even more of a storm waiting for him when he got home.

Chapter Nineteen

Mungo stood in front of the roaring fire, his hands on his hips, legs apart, looking fierce. He reminded Col of a photo of the Colossus of Rhodes he’d once seen in a school text book.

Col stood at the living-room door, staring right back at his brother. It was clear that somehow he had found out where Col had been.

It was Mungo who broke the silence. ‘Did you tell them anythin’?’

‘You mean like, “My brother had a great time at your place the other night. He really hopes you liked his redecorations.”?’

Mungo took a threatening step towards him and Col stepped back.

For the first time, apart from in his dream, he was afraid of his brother. Afraid he’d … what? Did he really
believe Mungo would hurt him?

‘You never should have went with them!’

‘Do you know what they asked me for? To show people they trusted me. They know you did it – everybody knows you did it – but they wanted to show they still trusted
me
! They’re nice people, Mungo. And you … you should never have done what you did!’

Mungo’s voice was a sneer. ‘They’re nice people … wi’ money!’

‘They work hard for it,’ Col snapped back.

‘Ach well, they can work harder then.’

Col realised he could never make Mungo understand. ‘What would you know about work? You’ve never worked in your life.’

Mungo’s eyes flashed with rage. ‘Don’t you dare talk to me like that. You better show me some respect.’

‘Respect for you!’ Col was every bit as angry. ‘What respect did you show me? Look at the position you’ve put me in!’

‘What position?’ Mungo threw the words at him. ‘You’re my brother. You don’t tell on a brother. End of story. You stick to that and you’ve not got a problem.’

In that second Col hated his brother, and all he stood for. Mostly because he knew he was right. He could
never betray him. ‘Don’t worry yourself. I’m never going to see them again anyway.’ And he knew this time it was true. He’d known it since Mrs Sampson had hugged him so tightly outside the restaurant. She was saying
goodbye
.

Mungo relaxed. ‘Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.’ He said it as if he’d won, as if Col had done exactly what he wanted.

‘I hate you, Mungo!’ Col yelled at him.

But Mungo only laughed and called after him as he pounded upstairs to his room. ‘You’ll feel better in the mornin’, bruv.’

He thought he would never sleep. His mind was too full of the Sampsons, and Mungo. He’d never felt such misery in all his life.

Even when he did drop into a troubled doze another crack of thunder would awaken him with a start. The room would light up and the rain seemed to be battering its way through the windows.

He did finally sleep. But it brought him no rest.

Dreams.

Dreams of rain and thunder and ice.

Once again, he was trapped in that dark icy loch, going under, the waters closing round him like a
shroud. He tried to call out but no sound came and water filled his mouth and made him choke. He could see the ice above him closing over his head. He tried to reach up, break through, but it was too far. Dominic’s face appeared, dim and hazy, calling to him. And Mrs Sampson, reaching down, wanting to help, to drag him to safety but the ice was between them.

And then, from nowhere, Mungo appeared, towering over them, a nightmare grin on his face. Col tried to shout to them, to warn them, but no sound came. Deeper and deeper he swirled into the silent depths of the loch. Reeds tangled round his ankles, like snakes dragging him down. The faces above him were growing ever more distant, and long icy ferns touched his face. He wanted to live so much.

He thrashed and turned and saw dark eerie shapes coming towards him through the dark water. He tried to turn away, didn’t want to see what he dreaded. He wanted to wake up.

Then, in the silent depths he felt something behind him, something he’d shut out so many times before. Closer it came, touching his shoulder, edging him round. He didn’t want to look. He wanted to surge to the surface, but he was held in a nightmare trance.

He turned, he couldn’t stop himself. And there, rising in the water before him, a face … a body …

A body.

Col screamed himself awake as yet another crack of thunder rent the air.

A body!

It wasn’t a nightmare. It was a memory. A memory he had been pushing away from him all this time. Waking up always before he had to confront it.

It hadn’t been the face of Death he had seen so long ago in the water. It had been a human face.

There had been a body in the loch.

He had glimpsed it that day, so close he could have reached out and touched it. The terror of that vision was what had sent him hurtling to the surface.

He jumped out of his bed. His pyjamas clung to his body with sweat. He had to tell Mungo. Mungo would know what to do.

Mungo was sitting by the fire, watching the late night boxing on TV. He turned as Col stumbled into the room, sat up when he saw his ashen face. ‘What’s wrong?’

Col’s voice trembled. ‘I was dreaming. A nightmare. But it was worse this time, Mungo. And it wasn’t a nightmare. It was real. Mungo … that day in the loch.’
He let out a sob. ‘There was a body down there. I saw it. It … touched me, Mungo.’ He ran to his brother, clutched at his shirt. ‘Mungo, it must still be there.’

Mungo’s eyes were ice cold. He plucked Col’s fingers from him. He shook his head. ‘Why the hell did you have to go to that loch in the first place!’

‘What does that matter? There’s a body down there.’

Mungo let out a long, slow sigh. He looked at Col for what seemed an age. ‘Who do you think put it there?’ he said at last.

Col gasped. He stepped back. His brother, capable of anything, but not this.

‘Do you mean you …?’ Col couldn’t say the words.

‘There was a chase. There was a fight. I won. OK? Now, he’s down there and he’s stayin’ down there. Right? Just forget your dream.’

Col was shaking now. ‘I can’t believe you’d do anything like that.’

Suddenly, Mungo had him by the shoulders. ‘Grow up, Col. You’ve got to keep your mouth shut about this. For my sake … and for yours.’ He grinned. ‘You being an accomplice an’ all.’

Col couldn’t take that in. Didn’t understand it. He was still trapped in the nightmare. He must
be. ‘Me? An accomplice?’

The sky lit up again and Mungo pointed outside. ‘A night like this. Remember? There was a belter of a storm, I came running in, the cops after me. You and me rollin’ about in the garden, pretendin’ we were fightin’. Remember now? You gave me my alibi. You’re in this as deep as me, son.’

Mungo spoke as if he hated him. Col had never heard his brother talk to him like that before. Col saw his life stretching ahead of him, always in Mungo’s power, always doing what Mungo wanted. He shook his head.

‘No!’

Mungo threw Col from him. ‘What’s the point of telling anybody? The guy’s dead. Has anybody missed him? No. And do you know why? He was a nobody. A nothing. He deserved everything he got. He’s better off dead. He was only a dirty illegal immigrant, shacking up in one of them old air-raid shelters at the loch.’

Col felt as if the air had been punched out of him. Black spots appeared in front of his eyes. He grabbed the back of a chair, sure he was about to faint.

An illegal immigrant? But Klaus had said
he
was the only illegal immigrant at the loch …

Chapter Twenty

No. It couldn’t be Klaus he was talking about. And yet … suddenly, it was the face of Klaus he could imagine drifting at him through the water.

No!

Mungo grabbed for him as he staggered, but Col pulled away from him. ‘You killed him,’ he muttered. His mind racing, trying to sort things clear in his head.

That was how Klaus had known so much about Mungo. Hated him so much. He shook the unnerving thought away. Can’t be … couldn’t be possible. If that was true, it would mean Klaus was dead. Klaus had always been dead. That Klaus was a—

No!

But Mungo
had
killed someone.

‘What’s wrong wi’ ye, boy?’ Mungo’s voice was harsh.

Col kept backing away from him, his mind in turmoil.
Trying desperately to think.

No one else had seen Klaus. No one but him. Not at the hospital. Not at the loch. Not in London.

‘You get back to your bed! Forget what I’ve told you. Or else!’

He had to get away from Mungo. Col was at the front door. He grabbed for his jacket, still damp from earlier.

‘Where do you think you’re goin’?’

Col didn’t answer. He hauled open the door. The storm crashed its way through. And he ran. Ran into the night.

The wall of rain pounded against his face so hard he could hardly keep his eyes open. Hardly see where he was going. But he didn’t need to see. His feet were leading him up through the estate, over the hill, and to the loch.

He would find Klaus there. Taking shelter from the storm. Not a ghost.

He would explain everything. It had been another illegal immigrant. Had to be.

He had taken food to Klaus, and the duvet. Ghosts don’t eat. They don’t feel cold. Do they?

Yet, even as he ran, he remembered. He had never seen Klaus actually eat anything. Klaus had never told
him he was cold, or hungry. And Col had put so many words into Klaus’s mouth. Explaining to himself how he had come to London. Had he already suspected there was something strange about Klaus? Had he always felt there was something he was holding back from telling him?

There was only one thing Klaus had ever wanted from Col. He had only ever asked one thing of him. Help me get back home. Growing paler and weaker with every meeting, fading from him. As if he had only a limit of time to ask for Col’s help. And he so wanted Col to help him, but he knew too well that the only way he could do that would be to betray his brother.

And what good would that do? What’s done is done. Mungo was right.

But Klaus was alive. He had to be. There are no such things as—

He was afraid as he neared the pitch black loch. The trees were eerie, waving, silhouettes against the sky. Afraid of what he might find here.

For the first time, afraid of Klaus.

Col stood for a moment at the lochside. He was wet through, shivering with fear and cold, straining his eyes to see.

Suddenly, another flash of lightning illumined the whole landscape – and Col gasped.

There was Klaus, standing only a few feet away from him, watching him, waiting for him. Paler than ever, almost transparent.

Col knew his worst nightmare was true. There was no other illegal immigrant. The body weighted down in the water was Klaus. He had been dead since the first time they’d met. Unimaginable as it was, it was true.