The Other Tenant, page 12
I yawn and stretch, aware that I’ve just dropped off and woken up again. This was a silly idea anyway. I don’t even know for sure that it was Hayley who wrote that message on the back of the toilet door. It could have been anyone, at any time. But just as I’m rising from my chair, I see something. My stomach tightens. It’s a dark shadow in front of the gate to Lottie’s garden.
I cup my hands either side of my eyes and lean against the glass of my window to get a better look. Someone is crouching in front of the gate, as if they are peering through the bars; a man by the looks of it. There’s someone else with him too. A smaller, slighter figure, almost certainly a woman. If only there wasn’t so much cloud cover, I might be able to see their faces.
Now they’re moving away from the gate. What the fuck are they up to?
I follow their progress, assuming they’re headed for the hall as that’s the direction they’re going in, but then they veer off to the left and disappear round the side of the building. I wait to see if they come back out, but they don’t. Which means they’re either lurking about in the shadows, or they’ve entered the building via the door that leads into the refuse room at the back of the kitchen.
For a few minutes, I consider going over there on the pretext of needing to make myself a hot chocolate, but fear holds me back. I have no idea who these people are or what they’re up to, but it must be something dodgy if they’re creeping around like that in the middle of the night. Are they part of the campaign? Have they left something in there for us to find? Another message?
I stand at the window for a little while longer, torn between thinking I should alert the others straight away – Elle is only a couple of floors below me, so I could go and knock on her door right now – and thinking I should just call Dev first thing in the morning and ask him to come and get me. Clear out of this place for good and never come back. Especially now that there’s every chance I might run into Miss Latham or Lottie’s dad next time I step out of the gates.
But then I think of Hayley, and I know I can’t leave yet. I have to find out what’s happened to her.
When I get home, there is loud music blaring out from the living room and shrieks of laughter. Strangers are milling about in the kitchen, helping themselves to sausage rolls, cheese and crackers, and an assortment of crisps and pretzels. Bottles of wine and gin, vodka and tonic water have also been put out. And a cake with the words ‘Happy Birthday Jemma’ iced on it. Jemma is the girl who lives in the other room next door to mine. The girl who makes noises like a wounded animal when her boyfriend stays over. I had to bang on the wall once and tell her to shut the fuck up.
As I walk in, there is a brief but noticeable lull in the conversation. Helena, the girl who’s still waiting for her bank card, gives me a tight smile.
‘Nice of you to invite me to the party,’ I say, helping myself to a paper plate and piling it with food. I’m not particularly hungry, but it seems a shame to pass up a free meal, and if I don’t eat it all tonight, I can always finish it in the morning.
Helena exchanges a look with a bearded man standing next to her, and he grimaces. I pour myself a large vodka and add a splash of tonic.
‘Oh, I think that’s Jemma’s vodka,’ someone behind me says.
I pour some more out and say, ‘Oh good. That’s my favourite brand.’
Someone behind me sniggers, and Helena rolls her eyes. ‘And she wonders why we didn’t invite her.’
I take a large swig of my vodka and head for the stairs, glass in one hand, plate in the other. ‘And you wonder why you don’t get any post.’ Oops, I didn’t mean to say that – it just slipped out. What am I like?
‘What did she say? Did she say something about post? Have you been taking my post? OMG, you bitch! Have you got my fucking bank card?’ She’s right in my face now, her stupid eyebrows like fat brown slugs. She’s got red lipstick on her teeth.
It’s a hugely misleading description, ‘housemates’. These people are not my mates. They never have been and they never will be, so what’s the point in pretending?
‘Not any more,’ I tell her, and with that, I go upstairs to my room and lock the door. I rest my plate of food and my glass of vodka on my bedside table, put my noise-cancelling earphones on, and fire up the old laptop. Then I change into my lounge pants and baggy T-shirt, climb under the duvet, and get ready for a spot of trolling.
When I wake up the next morning, an envelope has been pushed under my door. It’s got my name on the front, and when I open it up, it’s a handwritten letter signed by Helena, Jemma and Cari. It says they’ll be contacting the landlord with another complaint about me, and if I’ve got a shred of decency, I’ll start looking for somewhere else to live.
I screw it up and lob it into the bin. My last shred of decency vanished years ago.
27
Rob
It’s Thursday morning, and Rob has just opened an email from Harry Kiernan informing him that James Brampton has decided to do an impromptu site visit this morning.
Rob is furious, because this isn’t the first time this has happened. Why can’t the wretched man schedule his visits ahead of time, so that they are in the diary where they should be? He reads on. Harry says he will try to rearrange his schedule in order to accompany Brampton, unless there’s a chance that Rob can leave work and return to the site straight away?
No, Rob replies, stabbing at his keyboard in frustration. It’s not Harry’s fault, he knows that, but he’s furious with him too, for thinking he can just leave his desk whenever he pleases. If Rob had known about this visit, he would, of course, have arranged to work a half-day so he could be there. As Head Guardian, he should be there. How can Rob do his job properly if he isn’t informed of things in good time?
Rob swallows hard. If Brampton isn’t satisfied with security, then the agency’s contract will be on the line and so too will Rob’s position as Head Guardian. Even though he’s done everything he can to fulfil the demands of his licence and make himself indispensable. Even though he’s gone above and beyond the call of duty.
Not for the first time, Rob wishes he were the sort of person who could get up from his desk and leave the office, walk out of the college without a backwards glance, and go straight home to the school. That type of person would send an explanatory text to their manager and deal with any consequences the next day.
But Rob is not that kind of person. He follows protocol when it comes to requesting leave. He does not make excuses or lie. At least, not unless he is told to by one of his superiors. Not unless it is part and parcel of his job, and even then, he finds it hard. Like that time he was expected to tell a half-truth to an Ofsted inspector. ‘Except it isn’t a half-truth, Rob,’ his manager had explained. ‘It’s simply putting a positive spin on something for the greater good of the college.’
Rob felt powerless then and he feels powerless now. What little control he’s clinging on to is fast slipping away.
But who is he fooling? He has no power. He has no control. Recent circumstances have brought that message home with a vengeance.
A distant memory flickers: another bad-tempered man – an over-protective father – threatening him on the street. Telling him to go away, when all he was doing was looking. He had every right to be standing there on a public street. And then the atmosphere when he went home to his parents. Walking in on their argument. Realizing they’d had a phone call and that the argument was about him.
The shame of it. The confusion.
Something is nagging away at the back of his mind again. Some vital piece of information that refuses to be dragged into the light for inspection. He puts his elbows on his desk and massages his temples with his fingers. Perhaps if he pushes all the other thoughts away so that they cannot distract him, it will reveal itself and he will know what to do.
But now his work phone has started to ring, and Rob has no choice but to answer it.
28
Marlow
I’m standing outside the office, pretending to scan the noticeboard. I’m as sure as I can be that, apart from Craig, whose snoring I heard from two floors up, I’m the only one left on site this morning. As soon as I’ve plucked up the courage, I’m going to nip into the office, unpick the lock on Rob’s top drawer, and hopefully get my hands on the key to that classroom.’
But just as I’ve psyched myself up to do it, a door further along the corridor swings opens and Lou comes out. Fuck! I’m beginning to think I’ll never get into that bloody room.
‘I don’t believe any of that sleepwalking shit,’ she says, as she walks towards me.
So that’s her opening salvo, is it?
Let’s try this then. ‘Hello, Lou. Isn’t it a lovely morning? I replaced your fruit and veg, by the way. Did you see? I really am sorry. I should never have taken your stuff in the first place.’ I give her a winsome smile, which obviously throws her.
She narrows her eyes, which are minus the heavy make-up today. She looks much nicer without it. ‘No, you shouldn’t have,’ she says. ‘But … but thanks, anyway. And you didn’t need to buy me a whole bag of apples.’
Now I’m the one taken aback. She was almost nice then. ‘What were you saying just now, about my sleepwalking?’
She sniffs. ‘Just that I don’t believe it. You’re up to something, I know you are.’
‘What makes you say that?’
She gives me a strange look. ‘You were trying to get into Hayley’s room, weren’t you? I heard you ask Rob about it on Monday evening. I saw you go into the office.’
Bloody hell. What kind of place is this, everybody spying on everyone else? Where was she hiding then? Did she hear that peculiar conversation I had with Elle?
‘I was sleepwalking.’
‘In your coat?’
‘How do you know I was in my coat?’
‘Because I heard the commotion and came out and saw you with Mags, saw your Oscar-winning performance.’
I look her in the eye. ‘For your information, I do all sorts of things when I’m asleep. I even climbed into a friend’s van once and tried to drive it. Luckily, he caught me just in time.’
Lou raises her eyebrows. She doesn’t believe me, but if she googles it later, she’ll see that this sort of thing can, and does, happen. I did some research yesterday, in case Mags asks me any questions about it the next time she sees me.
‘You know when you asked me what the agency said when they offered me a room here? Why did you want to know?’
Lou looks conflicted, as if the conversation has taken a direction she both wants, and doesn’t want, to pursue.
She shrugs. ‘I was interested, that’s all.’ She lowers her voice. ‘The Hayley I know wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.’
‘How can you be sure about that? How well did you know her?’
Lou takes a long while to respond, and I think I see the exact moment she makes the decision to drop the attitude and actually talk to me. She gestures with her head towards the kitchen. I follow her inside and she closes the door behind us, moving over to the far side of the room, the side that looks out to the front of the school. Not that we can see anything – the windows are too high up.
When she speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper, even though we’re the only ones in here. She seems scared.
‘I was with her the day before she’s supposed to have left. She never said anything about going. Nothing at all.’
I think of what Bryony said about Lou having a crush on Hayley. ‘When you say with her, what do you mean? In her room?’
A slight flush creeps into Lou’s cheeks. ‘No,’ she says. ‘In your room.’
‘Oh.’ My brain scrambles to make sense of this information. ‘So … is that where the two of you …?’
Lou shakes her head. ‘No. And for God’s sake, don’t mention any of this to Mags or I’ll never hear the end of it. We were just friends, that’s all. I was helping her with something.’ Lou’s face is pinched and drawn. All her previous aggression is gone.
‘Have you tried calling her?’
‘Yes, from work I have. I don’t want Mags ever checking my phone and seeing. But it just keeps going to voicemail.’
I rub the tops of my arms. It might only be September, but it’s as cold as a fridge in here. ‘Shall I make us some tea or something?’
Lou nods. ‘There’s some in a blue caddy in the second drawer down of that thing.’ She points to a tall metal cabinet.
‘Where are the mugs and spoons?’
‘Here, let me do it. It’ll be quicker.’
Five minutes later, we’re sitting down, sipping tea, and I can’t help thinking how weird it is to be doing this with Lou of all people. Especially given how sullen and rude she’s been with me up until now.
‘What were you helping her with?’
Lou presses her lips together. ‘I’d rather not say, if you don’t mind. It was … it was private.’
I nod. It’s clear Lou needs to get something off her chest, but I’m going to have to give her time to say it.
‘I feel so guilty that I didn’t go up there with her that night,’ she says, almost as if she’s forgotten I’m here and is thinking out loud.
‘What do you mean? What night?’
Lou is silent for a moment before answering.
‘The night before she left. She wanted me to … Oh fuck, I’m going to have to tell you or none of it will make any sense.’
She looks me in the eye. ‘She and Big Dave had been seeing each other. In secret.’
I’m aware of my jaw dropping and clamp it shut. I think of how he sidled up beside me and offered me a smoke the first night I was here, how he surprised me in the playground the other night, kept asking if I was OK. I think of his crinkly eyes and warm smile, and feel the muscles in my face tighten. He comes across as this nice, kind man, but in reality he’s an absolute bastard who was playing around with all three of them: Bryony, Gilly and Hayley. It just goes to show how wrong first impressions can be.
‘Hayley really liked him,’ Lou says. ‘They’d started sleeping together. Or rather, not sleeping together, if you know what I mean.’
‘Go on.’
‘The thing is, she got the sense she couldn’t entirely trust him, that he wasn’t the person he made himself out to be.’
Too bloody right, he wasn’t, but I don’t say anything. Not yet anyway. I let her continue.
‘She was conflicted about it and needed to talk.’ Lou blushes and looks down at her lap. ‘I liked her. I knew nothing would come of it. Hayley wasn’t into girls and I’m happy with Mags – I am – but it gave me the perfect excuse to spend more time with her.’
She chews the inside of her lip. ‘We actually had a lot in common.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. Family issues, stuff like that.’ Lou frowns. ‘My parents reacted badly when I told them I was gay. Tried to persuade me it was just a phase I was going through.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘I don’t have much to do with them now. They’ve never really accepted me for who I am.’
‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’
‘And Hayley hated her family. Her dad abused her when she was younger.’ Lou looks directly into my eyes. ‘Sexually abused her.’
‘Oh God no, that’s awful. Poor Hayley.’
Lou nods. ‘She finally plucked up the courage to tell a teacher, and the whole thing blew up into a full-scale investigation. But she wasn’t believed. The case was dropped. Can you believe it?’
Anger rises inside me. Whenever I hear something like this, it brings to mind all the other times I’ve heard a news story about someone getting away with abuse, sometimes for years and years. For ever, in some cases. It makes me livid.
‘What do you mean, she wasn’t believed? Why?’
Lou sighs. ‘She used to take drugs, you see, as a teenager. She was a bit of a wild child, from what I can gather. Her family accused her of being an attention-seeker, out to punish them for giving her a hard time over the drugs. But that was the reason she took them in the first place! Because of her dad. It was her form of escape.’
Lou sniffs loudly and shakes her head. ‘We were up there talking about all this one afternoon while Mags was at work – I was on a half-day and Hayley had thrown a sickie. Suddenly, we spotted Dave and Bryony standing at her window and they were kissing. They obviously had no idea anyone could see them, because the only building that overlooks the drama block is that one side of Block C. There’s only Craig and Elle in that building – well, until you arrived – and their room looks out over the playing field at the back. There was no way Dave or Bryony would’ve known me and Hayley would be up there, so there they were, snogging away for bloody ages.’
Lou sighs and shakes her head. ‘Hayley was furious. She knew she’d been played. Big Dave had made out he was falling in love with her, gave her the impression that he hadn’t had a proper girlfriend before because he was self-conscious about his weight. She wanted to broadcast what a two-timing bastard he was, so she wrote some daft shit on the flipchart and was going to pin it up on the noticeboard outside the office so everyone could see.’
A three-timing bastard, I think, but again, I let her go on. If she doesn’t know about Dave and Gilly, she’s not going to hear it from me.
‘I told her she’d regret it if she did that, and she should just let it go. Tell Dave she and him were over. Not even give him an explanation. I told her that he was beneath her contempt, and that if she did something like that it would just send him the message that she was jealous and upset, and he needed to see that she didn’t give a shit. But she was adamant she wanted to do it. In the end, I ripped the sheet off and tore it up. Told her to sleep on it at least. And I was right. She’d changed her mind the next morning and thanked me for stopping her.
‘After that, though, she had this thing about spying on them. Talk about rubbing salt into a wound. She even took a pair of binoculars up there.’
