The Other Tenant, page 7
‘Shit.’ She runs a comb through her hair, then grabs her laptop and phone and puts them in her shoulder bag. She’s at the door when she remembers and turns round.
‘How did it go at the meeting last night? Anyone mention Hayley?’
‘What do you think? Of course they did.’
Elle stares at him, hating him for being so terse. So hard. ‘And?’
Craig puts his hand in the air, palm side out. She knows he’s shattered, but who the hell does he think he is, doing that? As if she’s a child he’s trying to shut up.
‘She’s gone,’ he says. ‘Period. Nobody knows a thing.’
‘Yes, but where has she gone? You don’t think …?’
She can’t bring herself to say the words out loud. The guilt is killing her. She should have tried harder to warn Hayley off. She should have found a way.
Craig sighs and scratches his head. ‘It’s too late to do anything about it now. Keep your eyes on the prize.’ His jaw hardens. ‘It’ll be payday soon enough.’
Elle wants to scream. She shuts the door behind her and practically runs along the corridor. She needs to get outside, on to the street. She can’t stand it here another second. It’s not worth it. None of it. It never has been, and it never will be. It’s a mug’s game and she wants to stop playing.
But she can’t. Not yet. She’s in too deep. She has to keep rolling the dice and moving forward. One square at a time. All the way to the finish.
14
Marlow
Later that evening, as I’m coming home from work on the bus, I call Dev. When he drove off yesterday, I made a resolution to be a better friend and not let the slight tension between us grow any worse.
He answers straight away. ‘I’m in the van. How’s it going?’
‘OK – ish. But I’ve decided I’m going to ask Rob about that other room again.’
Dev gives a long, impatient sigh. ‘You’re not still on about that, are you?’ There’s a pause. ‘Fucking idiot!’ he bellows. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean you. Some lunatic just cut me up. Seriously though, it’s only a room. The one you’ve got is fine.’
He obviously thinks this is because of my obsession with architecture and aesthetics, which he’s never really understood. As long as he’s got a bed to sleep in and a settee to sprawl on and play his Xbox, Dev is fine.
‘It’s not what you think,’ I explain. ‘Some of the others can’t believe that the girl who used to live in it – Hayley – would have left without saying goodbye. I get the impression it’s totally out of character for her to do something like that.’
‘So what are you saying? No, don’t tell me, you think Rob’s done away with her.’ He laughs. ‘You’ve been watching too many crime dramas. She’ll have found somewhere else to live and cut her ties. It’s what you do all the time, isn’t it?’
‘I’ve never cut my ties with you.’
There’s an awkward silence. Dev fills it first. ‘What are they like then, the others?’
‘Too soon to tell. One of them’s been really rude to me. A girl called Lou. All I did was eat one of her apples.’
Dev snorts. ‘Not being funny, Marl, but that sounds like something a twelve-year-old would say.’
‘Well, she’s certainly behaving like a twelve-year-old. Mind you, she’s worried about Hayley too. And wait till you hear this.’ I lower my voice and tell him about the binoculars I found in my room, and the imprint I read on the flipchart pad, about Bryony and Dave. I also tell him about the possible Rob Hornby-related graffiti in the toilet and the discarded copy of Rebecca with the inscriptions inside.
There’s a long pause before Dev responds. ‘Have you considered whether living in a school is making you all regress to being kids again? Nicking each other’s apples and writing messages on toilet doors.’
I’m about to call him a cheeky bastard when he says: ‘And not everyone holds on to old books for years on end like you do. Sorry, Marl, I’ve got to go. I’ve just got back from Bristol, and now I’m about to drive two posh twats called Hamish and Xander and a load of climbing equipment to Heathrow. Catch up later, yeah, and Marlow …’
‘What?’
‘Don’t get involved in other people’s shit.’
It’s almost 9 p.m. by the time I get back to McKinleys, the plastic handles of the bag of shopping I picked up from Tesco Express cutting into the palm of my hand. The light’s still on in the office, but Rob isn’t there. I put the shopping down and rap my knuckles on the door of the old staffroom, already tensing up in anticipation of his refusal and what it might mean.
The door opens a crack, and he peers out. When he sees it’s me, he opens it a little wider. Wide enough for me to get a glimpse inside. I was expecting it to be messy, but it isn’t. It’s not exactly warm and cosy, but it’s very well organized. It has a pared-back, minimal vibe. As far removed from the cluttered staffroom I remember peeking into in the past as it’s possible to be.
‘I’ve come to ask you about Hayley’s room,’ I say. ‘I know it’s got a leak, but I honestly don’t mind about that. I can always put a bucket down until it’s fixed. It’s just that—’
Rob is already shaking his head. ‘No. You can’t. I told you yesterday. It’s against health and safety regulations.’
I take a breath and make myself count to three. ‘Really? Even if I sign something to say I don’t mind?’
‘What’s wrong with the unit you’ve been allocated?’
‘Nothing, it’s just that … I really love old buildings like this. They’ve got so much character and history. I’d feel much happier over here. Safer too,’ I add, biting my bottom lip for effect. Anything to convince him that my desire to get into the room is purely for my own benefit and nothing whatsoever to do with not believing him about the leak.
Rob frowns. ‘Safer? Why, has something happened in Block C to make you feel unsafe?’
‘No, not exactly, but I do have to do late shifts at the studio sometimes, and I feel a bit vulnerable walking across that dark playground late at night. I mean, I’ve got the torch function on my phone, but my battery doesn’t last very long these days.’
Rob nods. ‘I’ve got just the thing,’ he says, and walks back into his room to open a cupboard.
‘Here,’ he says, pulling out a large torch. ‘You’re very welcome to borrow this whenever you like. You can leave it in the office when you go out, so it’s always there for when you come back.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Rob, but I’d much prefer to live over here, if you don’t mind. I don’t expect any help with moving. I’ll bring everything over myself.’
A muscle in his left cheek begins to twitch.
‘I’m very sorry, Marlow, but it’s just not possible. The agency is very particular about health and safety on site. The ceiling has got to be checked by a builder. The whole thing might come down on top of you.’
I keep on pushing. ‘It must be a pretty bad leak then. Is that why Hayley left?’
He stares at me. ‘No, she had a family emergency. I thought I’d already told you that.’
‘Can I at least have a look at it?’
Rob shakes his head. ‘No one can go in until the builder’s been to assess the situation.’
‘And when will that be?’
He shrugs. ‘No idea. You know what builders are like. They keep to their own schedule. I’m going to have to go now, Marlow. There’s something I need to watch on TV.’ And with that, he closes the door in my face.
I stand there for a moment, unsure what to do next. It’s quite clear that Rob isn’t going to change his mind about this any time soon. The sound of his TV coming on reaches my ears, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m picking up my shopping and walking into the office next door, gazing around for evidence of keys. I need to satisfy myself that this leak actually exists, although I’m not entirely sure what I’ll do if it doesn’t.
My heart begins to pound. Being in here again is like being hurled back in time, and I imagine Miss Latham striding in after me, her voice dripping with icy disapproval: ‘Marilyn DeVere-Cairns, what on earth do you think you’re doing?’
Marilyn. It was by no means the poshest-sounding name at McKinleys – there were a fair few Octavias and Cosimas and Allegras – but I hated it just the same. Is it any wonder I dropped it the first chance I got? And as for DeVere …
I banish Miss Latham’s ghostly presence from my mind and try the top drawer of the desk, but it’s locked and there’s no sign of the little key to open it. The other drawers are open, but all I find in them are sheets of typing paper and envelopes, some grubby unwrapped chewing-gum pellets, and an assortment of pens, paperclips and staples.
By the time I hear footsteps on the hall floor, it’s too late to duck down and hide. I’m an idiot for not turning off the office light and searching by moonlight.
There’s only one thing for it. I’ll have to brazen it out.
I close the bottom drawer just as Elle pops her head round the door, a curious expression on her face. ‘Hi, what are you up to in there?’
‘I was looking for a torch.’
Elle looks dubious. ‘Can’t you use your phone?’
‘It needs charging.’
She twists her mouth. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a torch in here. Lou and Mags might have one though. They have everything.’
‘Thanks, I’ll ask tomorrow. In fact, come to think of it, I’ll probably buy my own.’
Elle nods and moves aside as I leave the office, turning off the light as I go. Moonlight slants in from the lancet windows.
‘You don’t even need a torch tonight,’ she says. ‘You hardly ever do in London. It never gets properly dark. Not like it does in the countryside.’ There’s a wistful tone to her voice. ‘Mind you, it’s still creepy as hell in this place. I mean, just look at it. I keep expecting to see two little girls in blue dresses at the end of the corridor, like in The Shining. God, that was scary, wasn’t it?’
I follow the direction of her gaze and wish I hadn’t, because now all I can think of is the very same thing, and I know for a fact that now she’s planted that image in my mind, it’s all I’ll ever be able to think of when I’m here alone at night. Maybe I am better off in Block C.
‘Word of warning,’ she says, under her breath. ‘I’d keep my head down here, if I were you. Don’t go snooping around too much.’
‘Why do you say that?’ I wonder if Craig’s told her that he saw me by the pool this morning.
A flicker of something unreadable crosses her face. ‘I dunno, some of the people are a bit … weird?’
‘Really? Who?’
She gives a hopeless little shrug. ‘Look, forget I said anything. I’m just sick of it here, that’s all. I’m sick of being a property guardian, if I’m honest. It’s no way to live, is it?’
‘Seriously though, is there anyone I need to look out for?’
For a second or two, Elle looks like she’s about to say something, but then her face changes and it’s as though a shutter has come down. ‘Ignore me,’ she says. ‘I’m tired and I’m fed up. Stay safe, yeah?’ And with that, she heads off down the corridor.
I hurry across the playground to my room. What the hell was that about? More to the point, why was she heading towards the science block when it’s supposed to be out of bounds?
15
Rob
Rob puts the torch he offered Marlow back into the cupboard. She is annoyingly persistent, but there is no way she is having that room. She can badger him all she likes.
He switches his TV on and channel-surfs for a bit. Then he turns it off again and begins to pace backwards and forwards across the floor. He can’t get her face out of his mind. The way she just stood there. There is only one thing that will calm him now. Only one thing guaranteed to slow his racing heart.
He looks at his watch, but it is far too early. He flexes his fingers.
Outside his room, he hears voices. It’s her again. Who is she speaking to? He presses his ear against the door, but it’s no good. He can’t hear what she’s saying. He opens his door a fraction and peers out, but the corridor is empty. He takes a few steps into the hall, his eyes landing on the locked door of Hayley’s room, the cardboard sign still covering the window.
But the hall is deathly silent. Marlow Cairns and whoever she was talking to have gone.
He stands there for a few minutes more, imagining the hall in a previous life. Full of girls. Rows and rows of them, fidgeting and whispering and giggling behind their hands. He turns back, towards his room and the sanctuary it offers. But something resolves out of the shadows at the end of the corridor. He doesn’t want to look, but he has to, because he knows it’s her.
‘Rob?’
He looks up. He was mistaken. That is Elle’s voice, he is sure of it. His heart soars when he sees her walking towards him, that strange little smile playing at the corners of her mouth. He tries to do the same thing with his mouth. He knows this is called mirroring someone’s body language and that it’s done to show empathy.
Elle’s smile widens. She must be feeling better now. Maybe it wasn’t a virus after all.
16
Marlow
The next morning, after another restless night not helped by Elle’s ominously vague warning to keep my head down, I feel achy and unrefreshed. I make myself a mug of instant coffee, neck a couple of paracetamol, and wander over to the window. The sky looks amazing, all streaked with red, and now that I’ve seen it, my tiredness dissolves in the urge to capture the image in a photograph.
I rest my mug on the windowsill and study the vista before me. A red sky isn’t exactly original, and it won’t be as atmospheric as an abandoned old swimming pool, but with the right composition and shutter speed, and a long focal length so that the red parts of the sky occupy most of the frame, it could be a great addition to my portfolio. If I open the window, I could take a couple of shots from up here, then go outside and take more from the playing field.
When I reach for my coffee again and gaze down at the playground, I recoil in shock. Scalding coffee slops on to my hand and wrist, but the pain is lost in a surge of adrenaline. I take a step back, the palm of my hand pressed against my chest, my heartbeat fluttering beneath my fingers. Someone has written the words ‘DON’T GET TOO COMFORTABLE’ in white chalk on the grey tarmac.
The letters are huge. Unmissable. And what’s more, they’ve been written this way round, so that they’re facing Block C.
So that they’re facing me.
Just then, I hear men’s voices over by the drama block. It’s Nikhil and Big Dave. Nikhil is pointing to the chalked message. Now they’re walking over to it, talking as they go. I open one of my windows and lean out. The two men look up at me.
‘Did you see who did this?’ Nikhil calls out.
‘No, I’ve only just looked out of the window.’
They’re both standing near the letters now, gazing down at them.
Dave tugs the end of his beard. ‘This’ll be a warning to James Brampton. It must be from one of the campaigners.’
Nikhil nods in agreement. ‘They must have got on site last night. Seems they’re not content with spraying graffiti on the fence.’
My shoulders soften. The campaigners. Of course. That makes more sense than it being some kind of personal threat.
I get dressed as fast as I can and stuff my feet into my trainers. By the time I get downstairs, Dave and Nikhil have been joined by Bryony and Gilly. Gilly is all zipped up in a long, quilted coat and Bryony is still in her dressing gown, a pair of beige Ugg boots on her feet.
‘It’s scare tactics, that’s all,’ Bryony says. ‘I think we should wash it off and ignore it.’
‘You’re probably right,’ Gilly says. ‘But let’s see what Rob has to say first. I’ll go and get him.’
It isn’t long before she and Rob emerge from the old school building, closely followed by Lou and Mags.
Mags is already in her uniform. She’s twisting her hair into a ponytail and securing it with a band. ‘Where are Elle and Craig?’ she says. ‘Shall I go and get them?’
‘I wouldn’t bother,’ Nikhil says. ‘Craig’s probably asleep by now. He’s on nights, isn’t he?’
‘We need to inform the agency about this,’ Rob says.
‘And the police,’ Gilly adds. ‘They can have a word with the campaign organizers, see if they know anything about it.’
Lou snorts. ‘They’re hardly likely to admit to breaking into a private site though, are they?’
‘I didn’t see anything on my run this morning,’ Mags says.
Rob pulls out his phone and starts taking pictures of the message. ‘I’ll send these through to Harry and see what he has to say. Let’s not wash it away yet.’ He looks up. ‘Who’s down to do the perimeter walk this morning? It’s you, isn’t it, Marlow?’
For a moment, I stare at him, still flummoxed by what’s happened. Then I remember. He put me down on the rota for two consecutive days.
I nod. ‘I’ll do it now. See how they might have got in.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Dave says. ‘In case they’re still on site.’
I shoot him a grateful glance. I’m not usually the sort of woman who takes kindly to men making assumptions that I need their help, but if whoever did this is still here, I’d rather not confront them alone. Dave comes across as a gentle giant, but his sheer size could be intimidating if you didn’t know him.
‘I’ll come too,’ Bryony says.
Dave raises his eyebrows at her. ‘Thought you needed to get to work early today? Don’t worry, I’m sure Marlow and I can manage perfectly well on our own.’ There’s a finality to his tone, as if he’s confident in his power to affect Bryony’s decision. It makes me like him a little less.
But it’s as if she hasn’t heard him. ‘In fact, why don’t we all go?’ she says. ‘Safety in numbers, yeah?’
