Chapter 18
Niamh
FOUR YEARS AGO
‘Are you sure this is all right with your friend?’ My mum asks, her brows creased with worry. ‘It’s already kind of them to pay for the hotel. I don’t want you to feel like you owe them anything.’
‘Rose says they’d be spending the same, whether I go or not,’ I assure her. ‘Her brother wants her to be safe at this law conference and he’s happy she’s not staying by herself.’
That is definitely stretching the truth. I haven’t even seen Cillian since the morning I woke up in his room after the fateful Hunter party. I’m not even sure how I’d react if I did see him, especially after what happened between us.
‘Please be careful about accepting gifts from people, Niamh,’ Dad says, kissing the top of my head. ‘Relationships can get complicated when there’s an imbalance. And you know what we’ve always told you about those gifts that come with consequences.’
‘Cautionary fables,’ I say, laughing. ‘But I’ll be careful.
The money thing worries me, too. That’s why I was supposed to be the one driving.
Then, at least, I was contributing something towards the arrangements rather than just sitting back and taking everything for granted and it’s you two who are getting in the way of that. ’
I smile to make sure they know I’m not making a dig at them.
‘Aunt Mary’s death was unexpected,’ Mum says. ‘We need to make sure her house—’
‘It’s fine, Mum. I understand. Really.’
‘Is Rose driving instead?’ Dad asks.
I pause before answering. ‘She has a driver.’
Mum’s eyed widen. ‘Just be careful, darling. That family has a reputation. I know you like Rose, but rich people are different.’
‘I will. I promise,’ I reply, convinced that it’s an easy promise to keep.
I stand and watch as they reverse out of the driveway, waving as they head off.
We live on an ordinary street in an ordinary suburb of Glasgow, so I frown when I notice an unfamiliar BMW do a U-turn in the road and drive off without signalling.
Sighing at the lack of respect, I turn around and go to check my overnight bag.
I’m not really planning on leaving the hotel except to go to the conference itself, but it’s my first time staying somewhere fancy, and I’m going to make the most of the facilities.
Fifteen minutes later, a horn beeps twice outside and I head for the door. Sean is already waiting when I open it. He takes my suitcase to stow in the boot.
‘Looking forward to the weekend?’ he asks.
‘Yes,’ I say.
‘Even playing gooseberry to those two?’
I shrug. ‘I really don’t mind. Seeing them together gives me some hope that there are nice guys somewhere out there. And besides, I have you to talk to.’ I grin at him, expecting him to smile back, but instead his mouth is set in a grim line.
‘Don’t say that in front of Cillian,’ he says.
I frown. It feels like a warning, but why would Sean care. I can’t imagine Cillian has told anyone about what happened between us the night of the party.
‘I mean, I’m working,’ he says a moment later. ‘He pays my salary.’
‘Oh, yes, right.’
He pauses at the passenger side before opening the back door for me instead, and I wish I hadn’t said anything.
We pick up Rose and Matt from Matt’s house, before setting off on the hour-long journey. Rose had insisted on sneaking a bottle of champagne for the ride to keep us entertained, and I catch Sean’s eye in the mirror, but he keeps his mouth shut.
‘That looks expensive,’ I point out. And Rose smiles impishly.
‘It’s Cillian’s. He won’t even notice it’s missing,’ she assures me.
* * *
The hotel is on the Royal Mile, right in the centre of Edinburgh, and despite me constantly expecting to be asked to leave because they’ve realised I don’t belong there, I love it.
Rose has booked a suite, and we both have our own bedrooms, in addition to a lounge area.
I didn’t even know hotels had rooms like this.
And though I’d hoped the hotel would have facilities I could use, the pool and spa are even more gorgeous than I could possibly have imagined.
Following a fancy dinner in our suite, I decide to head to bed early.
The antics of the day’s travel and the champagne bubbles making me feel tired.
I leave Matt and Rose curled up watching a romcom, with Sean half-watching from a chair near the door.
I fall asleep quickly, until an annoying buzz from my phone by the bed wakes me from a deep sleep.
The room is pitch-black when I open my eyes, and my mouth is still dry and tastes gross, despite the fact I didn’t drink much last night.
I debate switching it off and going back to sleep, but something makes me answer.
‘Hello?’ I murmur.
‘Is this Niamh Whyte?’
‘Erm, who’s calling?’
‘This is Sergeant Nevin calling from Ayr Police Station.’
‘What?’ I sit up and for a moment, my heart stops and I wonder what sort of trouble Rose has got herself into.
‘We’ve tried your house, but you weren’t there. Can you tell us your location and we’ll send our officers to come and speak to you?’
‘Erm, yes, but… Why?’ My mind runs through a very short list of possibilities and lands on the most likely. ‘Has something happened?’ Then I realise that Ayr is the largest town near where my parents were headed.
‘This isn’t really a conversation for over the phone. Can you tell us where you are, please?’
I then think about all the things you’re warned to do if scammers call you asking for information like this. But I don’t do any of them. For some reason, I know this is genuine. I give the woman on the phone the name of the hotel.
‘I’ll come downstairs and meet you out the front. I don’t want… I don’t want to make a fuss in the hotel.’
She’s quiet for a moment. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong, Miss Whyte.’
‘I’d still prefer to come downstairs. I’ll be outside in ten minutes.’
I quickly get dressed but don’t even make it to the door of the suite when I realise Sean is sitting on the sofa, reading something on his phone.
‘Going somewhere?’
I swallow, not sure what to say.
‘What’s happened, Niamh?’
‘The police called. They want to speak to me. Outside.’
He stands up and takes a step towards me, all trace of friendliness wiped from his features.
‘Why?’
‘They didn’t say. Just that it wasn’t something to discuss over the phone.’
His brow furrows, eyes narrowing as his gaze sharpens, lingering on me a moment too long. ‘Is this something that happens often?’
‘No, I don’t… I don’t know what it’s about. I should go.’
He nods slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line, and a flicker of something cold glints in his expression. ‘Text me once you find out.’
‘Yeah, sure, okay.’ I hurry from the room, wincing when the door slams behind me.
The sky is pitch-black, and the early-morning air is chilly. I hover inside the entrance to keep warm until I see a police car pull up outside.
A uniformed police officer gets out the passenger side.
‘Miss Whyte?’ she says as she moves towards me, and I nod, rubbing my arms against the cold.
I’m dressed warmly, but the chill is coming from inside me.
She smiles at me, and the sympathy in that smile is so clear that I know before she tells me that it’s bad.
She holds up her warrant card as she introduces herself.
‘I’m Constable MacDonald. Sergeant Nevin asked us to come and pick you up and drive you through to Ayr.
Why don’t you take a seat in the car for a minute while we have a word. Do you have anyone with you right now?’
I think of Sean, but after his reaction just now, I don’t want to involve him until I know what’s going on.
‘Not really,’ I say. ‘I just … just want to know what’s wrong.’ The woman holds the door open for me and closes it before getting in the other side.
‘Hi, Constable Armstrong,’ says the police officer who’s driving, introducing himself. He’s an older man, and after turning to say hello he turns away as if giving us privacy.
I stare at the woman as she starts to talk, barely hearing the first few sentences through my panic.
‘Your parents own a red Renault Megane is that correct?’
‘Yes.’
‘And they were travelling south from Glasgow down the coast road towards the village of Maidens?’
‘Yes, my aunt … my mum’s aunt died earlier today … yesterday … and they went to make sure the house had been locked up properly.’
The woman smiles that same practised, sympathetic smile before taking a deep breath and reaching for my hand.
‘Niamh, I’m so sorry to inform you—’
I don’t really hear the rest over the blood rushing through my ears and the thudding of my heart in my chest. This can’t be right. It can’t be true. There must be a mistake. Phrases lodge in my brain: ‘Died on impact.’ ‘Didn’t suffer.’ ‘Nothing anyone could do.’
But there is, I want to scream and shout. You can tell me you’re wrong, that it’s some other Renault Megane with a licence plate just like ours in an area I know they were travelling to.
‘I know this must come as a massive shock, Niamh. We’d like to take you back to the morgue at Crosshouse, just south of Glasgow, and ask you to help us identify their bodies. Is that okay?’ The officer pauses with a concerned expression. ‘Are you sure there isn’t anyone we can call for you?’
‘No, there’s no one.’
The two officers exchange a look.
‘If you’re sure?’ she says, ‘Do you need to go back into the hotel and collect your belongings?’
‘I’m sure. And, no, I just want to go.’
We’ve only just pulled out onto the Royal Mile when my phone rings and Sean’s name lights up the screen.
‘What’s going on?’ he asks, sounding guarded.
‘There’s … there’s been an accident.’
‘What’s happened? Do you need help?’
‘My parents—’ I break off, not sure if I can say the words that will make it all seem so real. But it is real. I have to get used to this. I grit my teeth and take a breath. ‘My parents have been killed in a car accident,’ I say. ‘The police are taking me to the morgue at Crosshouse.’
There’s silence for a few seconds before Sean replies. ‘I’m so sorry, Niamh.
‘I’ll get Rose. We’ll come with you. I’ll—’
‘No, I … I need to do this myself.’ I’m not sure why I’m insisting on this, but Sean’s suspicion earlier, his warning me off…
That coupled with what my parents said to me before I left for the conference…
No. I need to be alone right now, because I know I’m going to fall completely apart. ‘Thanks, Sean. Bye—’
Sean is still talking as I end the call, but he doesn’t call back. I take a deep breath and feel the first hot prickle of tears in my eyes as I sit staring down at my phone.
‘Everything all right?’ Constable MacDonald asks, concern etched on her face.
‘No. But…’
She smiles sympathetically at me. ‘We’ll try to support you, however we can.’
‘Thanks’ I say and turn to stare out the window at the dark fields of Scotland’s heart as tears slide down my cheeks.
If they’re really gone, then I have no one. And that scares me more than anything else.