Black & White

Black & White By Alistair Canlin

Published by independentbook.com, November 2004

-CHAPTER ONE-

Whoomph! The camera fired, lighting up his skin with a silvery light. Morven moved round to get a different angle. Focusing on his face she pushed his hair back, his blue eyes stared straight ahead as if focusing on a distant object. Whoomph! The camera fired again, the chrome table on which he lay was momentarily lit up, sparkling with stars which disappeared as quickly as the appeared. She moved his body, positioning him exactly where she wanted him. He was completely compliant to her will; she could do whatever she wanted. Satisfied with the subtle changes she had made she steadied herself. Whoomph! The camera fired again, the overhead lights were a little too bright, their fluorescent light making him appear a little too jaundiced. Morven slowly walked over to the light switch, her white boots squeaking on the highly polished floor. She turned off the light.

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She looked back at him in the near darkness, the only light coming in from the two windows in the swing doors, he looked calm and tranquil not at all disturbed by what was going on around him. She moved closer and peered through the viewfinder, the way she always preferred to look at the world. His strong athletic body lay motionless. She focused again on his face, a strong jaw and a prominent nose, dark bushy eyebrows above his piercing blue eyes. She moved the camera slowly down his body. His neck, as thick as his head, strong muscular shoulders, bulging biceps, his chest, puffed up and proud. She could imagine him being the centre of attention, young girls busying themselves around him like bees round honey. He was a perfect specimen, apart from the big ugly gaping wound in the middle of his stomach. The wound and the bruising around it appeared almost pitch in the dull light. She focused on the wound and held her breath. Whoomph! The camera fired. “Christ it’s dark in here.” Callum clattered into the mortuary in his usual clumsy style and switched on the lights. Morven sighed quietly to herself. “You up for a drink tonight? Me and the rest of the boys are going up The Ship.”

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“Naw, it’s all right. Things to do and all that.” She looked at Callum, his lanky hair draped over his eyes, it was hard to tell if he was disappointed or not. He shrugged and started to fling things onto a trolley. She slowly dismantled her equipment, taking great care over the various pieces; after all they were what her life had become over the last five years or so. Callum continued to clatter about, flinging all sorts of medieval looking torture implements into a big metal sink on wheels. He didn’t care about this stuff; to him it was just a job. He never had to deal with the bodies; he just wheeled them in and out, then cleaned up afterwards. To Morven photography was more than a job, she felt as if she could see people’s souls as she stared into their dead eyes. Everybody thought all she did was take pictures of the bodies for the coroner’s office, but to her it was much more than that. She put the last piece into the case and snapped it shut. She pulled the case over her shoulder and walked quietly to the door. “Seeya Morv.” “Bye.” She didn’t look at Callum; she was already somewhere else.

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The Cardale centre was a small community centre on the outskirts of town; it regularly held exhibitions of local artists’ work. Morven pulled into the car park and made for the boot of her car. As she opened it Charlie, her best friend, came running towards her. He was dressed in a blue Fred Perry polo shirt, khaki chinos, his regulation Doc Marten boots, an old brown leather jacket and a bandanna tied round his head. “Cutting it a bit fine.” He clamped his strong hands onto her shoulders. “Jesus!” Morven nearly jumped out of her skin. “Sorry.” Charlie smiled. Morven was all ready to lay into him, but the moment she saw his smile she forgave him. How could anyone be angry at a smile like that? “Have they started yet?” “Not yet, you’ve made it by the skin of your teeth. Here let me help you with those.” Charlie reached into the car and started to pull out several framed prints of varying sizes. “You take the big ones.” “Bet you say that to all the boys.” Charlie cackled in a very dirty laugh. Morven laughed despite herself, even though she had heard Charlie’s innuendo jokes a thousand times before. “Just carry these you dirty tart.” Morven pulled two long cardboard tubes out of the car. 5

“How am I supposed to carry this lot?” Charlie bleated. “You just can’t get the staff these days.” Morven tutted and slammed the car boot shut. “Staff? Does that mean I’m getting paid?” Charlie struggled after her as they headed to the hall. “We’ll come to some arrangement.” Morven struggled with the swing doors. Morven was nearly knocked off her feet as a dowdy looking woman in a tweed suit and thick glasses clattered through the swing doors. “Mind where you’re going, old cow.” Morven snarled through gritted teeth. Charlie just managed to catch the door before it closed. “Are you coming or are you just going to hurl abuse at passers by?” Charlie held the door open for her. Morven stared after the woman, only when Charlie coughed did she break away. “Sorry.” She mumbled as she shuffled past him. “No it’s all right, just you carry on your personal vendetta against the rest of the world.” “And that’s bad how?” Morven winked at him and entered the main hall. The hall had wood panelling on three walls and wall bars on the remaining one; it looked like a school gym. The only windows were small rectangles that ringed the hall just below the roof. People 6

bustled about carrying paper mache models, wooden sculptures and paintings. Morven was momentarily lost. “Name?” A greasy hared man with a clipboard appeared in front of her. Morven stared at him. “Name?” He repeated. “Eh?” “I need to know your name so I can allocate you a stand.” “Zubiski.” Morven tried to get a look at the clipboard, so that she could see whom else was here, but the greasy hared man clutched it closer to his chest. “Stand 47.” He ticked something on his clipboard “And you’re late.” “Traffic.” Morven mumbled as the greasy hared man walked off and started officiously telling off a woman with big hair, who had just started to hang some watercolours on the wall. “This is not your stand, you are stand 14, which ends at the fire exit.” Morven could hear him whine. “Where’s stand 47?” Morven turned to Charlie, who just shrugged. Morven looked at the stand next to her, where a silver hared gentleman with a large handlebar moustache was delicately dusting a matchstick model of a castle. She noticed out of the corner of her eye a small number six pinned to the wall behind the model. 7

“We’ll try this way.” She started walking clockwise round the hall. As she went she noticed that the stands were in no discernible order, jumping from 53 to 12 and then back to 43. Eventually she found 47, in between a selection of pottery and knitted dolls. “Better than nothing.” Charlie sighed as he finally put down his baggage. “Could’ve done with being a bit sturdier.” Morven knocked one of the dividers that separated each stand, which shook and rattled. “What do you expect, it’s just a village hall thing.” “From little acorns.” “What are you on about?” “We’ve all got to start somewhere, you never know who might come through that door.” “You mean this time next year we could be famous?” “You never know.” Morven smiled and started to open the cardboard tubes. “So about payment?” “Didn’t take you long.” “A boy’s got to look after his future.” Charlie tried to look innocent. “So what you after?” “I need some photos.” He smiled his winning smile “For a job interview.” “And you thought you’d go to the cheapest source?” 8

“No. I thought I’d start at the top.” “Ah, flattery will get you everywhere.” “So you’ll do it?” Charlie looked like a little kid who’d just been given every present he’d ever asked for. “Aye, no problem. Just phone me before you’re coming over.” “You’re an angel.” Charlie bearhugged her, lifting her completely off the ground. “You can put me down now.” Morven gasped as she could feel the breath being pushed out of her. Morven brushed herself down as Charlie put her down; she could feel people staring at them. She flashed a sarcastic smile at a couple of women who she could see tutting. There was a flurry of activity at the entrance to the hall as people started to come in. “Shit, they’ve let them in already.” Morven glanced at her watch “Help me with this lot.” They both unravelled the contents of the cardboard tubes and tacked them onto the wall, they were large prints of a countryside scene, a large hill dominating the background while the sunlight shimmered through the trees illuminating a beautiful wooded glade. Each print was the same apart from one was summer, everything looking vibrant and alive, while the other was in winter, looking harsh and desolate, but both looked equally beautiful.

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They both worked silently; hanging various different prints, mainly street scenes and portraits, as the hustle and bustle around the hall grew. Morven collapsed onto a small plastic chair once they hung the final picture. “Thank god that’s finished.” Morven sighed. “A little bit of hard work never hurt anybody.” Charlie straightened one of the prints. “How would you know? You’ve never worked hard in your life.” Morven laughed. “I …” Charlie started to protest, but then stopped “No you’re right you’ve got me there.” Morven giggled, but she felt a presence behind her. She tried to crane her neck to see who it was, but the lights shone in her eyes. She could only make out a silhouette outlined in silver. “The wood, where is it?” He had a lifeless voice, flat, no emotion. “Rannoch. My home town.” This was met by silence. “It’s up north.” Morven felt strangely uncomfortable with the silence. She felt she had to fill it “Have you been there? Not many people have, it’s a bit of a dump.” He moved closer and stared at the other photographs. Morven could now see him more clearly. He had dark closely cropped hair, strong shoulders, and an athletic build. He turned away from her before she could see his face. 10

“Mmm.” He nodded to himself as he looked at a picture of a group of girls descending the stairs of a church, all smiles, dressed in their Sunday best. The minister watching them over the shoulder of an old lady, who had cornered him at the entrance to the church. He nodded again, then walked away. Morven watched him as he stopped at a stand showing pottery. Still she couldn’t quite see his face. “He was a bit of all right.” Charlie made her jump slightly as he appeared at her shoulder. “You think?” She said absent mindedly as her mind had already started imagining a tall dark handsome stranger holding her in his arms. “What’s this supposed to be?” A little old lady, who was scrutinising one of the photographs, interrupted Morven’s thoughts. “It’s a footprint.” Morven looked at the picture of a muddy footprint on a deserted suburban street. “Why would you want a picture of a footprint?” The old lady scrunched up her face and looked closer. “The footprint symbolises you’re life, where you’ve been and all the baggage you’ve collected along the way. The empty street is the blank canvas of what is yet to come.” The old lady looked at Morven for a moment and then back at the picture. “Looks like a muddy footprint to me.” The old lady sniffed and walked away. 11

“Bloody philistine.” Charlie couldn’t hold his laughter in any longer and snorted loudly. “Aye, but she was right.” “Eh?” Charlie stopped laughing. “It was just a footprint. I just made half that stuff up.” “What, just then on the spur of the moment?” “Yep, sounded good didn’t it?” “Well, you had me convinced.” “That wouldn’t be too hard, you’d believe anything I told you.” “That’s not true.” “Oh no. What about the time you accosted that bloke in Mulligans’ because I told you he kept winking at us?” “I don’t remember that.” Charlie tried to feign ignorance. “Yeah you do, he turned out to have a nervous tick.” “Don’t know what you’re on about.” Charlie started to blush. “Yeah, it nearly started world war three.” “It was just a misunderstanding.” “Some misunderstanding three black eyes, a trip to casualty and a bar bill that could have been the debt of a third world country.” “I’m never going out for a quiet drink with you again.” “Moi?” Morven batted her eyelashes and laughed. “Yes you, little miss innocent.” Charlie picked up one of the empty cardboard tubes and took a swipe at her. “Hey!” Morven dodged out of the way and grabbed the other tube. 12

They were interrupted from their swordfight by a polite cough from over Morven’s shoulder. She span round, ready to let rip with a torrent of abuse, but then she noticed each of the small group in front of her were wearing badges with the word judge scrawled in magic marker. One of them tutted and scribbled something onto his clipboard, another just shook his head. Morven and Charlie slumped onto the one plastic chair as the judges scrutinised the photographs, scribbling more onto their clipboards. Morven could not be bothered explaining any of the photographs, she knew in her heart of hearts she had already lost. “Do you think we should have told them it was performance art?” Charlie said after the judges had left. “Don’t think it would’ve made much difference.” “You never know.” “Nah. Did you see the look on the fat one’s face, you’d have thought I’d offended his mother.” Morven kicked the leg of the chair. “Maybe you did.” Charlie kicked his side of the chair. “When?” “The wee old lady and the muddy footprint.” “She wasn’t was she?” Morven’s face filled with concern. “Course not, I’m only pulling your leg.” Charlie sniggered “You’re so gullible.” “It’s not funny Charlie, this could have been my big break, and I blew it mucking about.” “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…” 13

“It’s not your fault. I should have been more prepared.” Morven could feel tears starting to well up. “Do you want to leave?” Charlie must have sensed it as well. Morven just nodded. They both stood up from the chair, which screeched against the floor. They could sense heads turning and more tutting. “What about the stuff?” Morven looked round at the pictures. “We can get it tomorrow.” Charlie put his arm round her and they walked out together. It was dark outside and the air had turned cold. Morven could see her breath floating up in front of her. She thought the two of them together would make a good photograph. She’d have to do it one day. They reached the car. Morven reached up and kissed Charlie on the cheek. “You’re a mate Charlie Finch.” “You know if I was that way inclined I’d be flattered.” Morven could have sworn Charlie was blushing, but maybe it was just the orange glow from the streetlights. “Do you want to go for a drink?” “No it’s all right, I’d rather just go home.” “Now, you’re going to be all right?” Charlie put his hands onto Morven’s shoulders. “I’ll be fine.” Morven smiled and climbed into her car.

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She watched in her rear view mirror as Charlie’s reflection disappeared into the distance.

Morven’s flat was like a shrine, dimly lit with photographs stuck to the wall. Nearly every piece of available wall space was used. She entered the room placing the large metallic camera case carefully down in the centre of the room before shutting the door behind her. She didn’t turn on the lights, she wanted everything to be just so. Everything had to be like a black and white photograph, dark, moody and mysterious. To her shadows and lighting were everything, it made her feel safe and comfortable, she felt like she needed to put the experience of the exhibition behind her. She walked into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee, passing the spare bedroom on the way, which she had taken six painstaking months to convert into a darkroom. She watched as the kettle boiled, she tried to follow the curls of steam as they floated mysteriously up into the light from the window. The strange orange light that shone in from the streetlight just outside. She watched the steam, but lost track of it. It always seemed so elusive. The coffee made, and in her favourite mug, the Mickey Mouse one Charlie had brought back from Disneyland, she made her way 15

back to the front room. She momentarily thought about going into the darkroom and finishing some work, but she thought better of it. Anyway, she had some new prints to sort through. She sat down on the sofa, a pile of prints on her lap. She flicked on the light, which shone pure white at a peculiar angle. She glanced over at the mirror, perfectly positioned on the wall to make it look as if she was in a picture, and as she knew it would be she was perfectly lit. The strong light reflecting off her face, the bold shadows shortening the look of her nose, which she always thought looked too big, and softening out all those nasty blemishes that mother nature has a knack for throwing in your way. She wanted to smile, but it would spoil the look. A look that Marlene Dietrich would have been proud of. She flicked through the prints, to the untrained eye they looked good, but she was a perfectionist and could spot the tiniest flaw in the most perfect photograph. She studied closely one of the pictures, it was of a man and a woman kissing in a busy street, his eyes were closed lost in the ecstasy of the moment. Hers, however, were open, but they seemed to be vacant as if she was a million miles away. There was one thing she didn’t like about the picture. There was a man in the background, dressed in a long dark overcoat, wisps of steam coming out of his mouth showing the cold; the winter sun was glistening off his baldhead. He was staring straight at the camera; Morven hated it when people did that. She flicked through the rest of the prints, most of them street scenes and too her surprise 16

the same man was in at least five of them, each time he had the same expression, staring intently at the camera. He must have been following her around; curious as to what was going on. She was used to it by now, rubberneckers and gawkers everywhere she moved asking her what she was doing, she had a camera in her hands, what did they think she was doing? But there was something about this man; the haunted look in his eyes as if he’d seen things that a man shouldn’t see. He instantly intrigued Morven; she wanted to know more about him. She stared and stared at the pictures hoping that they could tell her something about him, anything. Slowly her head started to bob up and down as she gradually succumbed to tiredness. She tried to fight it; her eyes getting heavier then flicking open and then slowly sliding shut. ☯

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Snow was falling heavily as Morven trudged through the city; she struggled to walk as the snow was lying thickly. Lots of people were about, all rushing this way and that. Morven couldn’t understand it; they were all able to move much faster than she could. She couldn’t recognise anybody; they all had their faces shielded from the driving snow. She trudged slowly through the snow, staring down at her feet. She noticed a trail of blood, she checked her nose to make sure it 17

wasn’t her, ever since she was little she’d been prone to nosebleeds, but no it wasn’t her. She decided to follow the trail. Each drop of blood was the same as the last, same size, same pattern. She continued to follow, trudging through the heavy snow. It led her through street after street, past hundreds of people, but none of them seemed to notice the blood. Her legs began to ache, but still she carried on until the trail led to a small alley, something at the back of her mind told her to be careful. The spots of blood seemed to be closer together and larger. She crept down the alley; she could feel her heart beating faster, blood rushing in her ears. There was something at the end of the alley; it looked like a bundle of rags. As she crept closer she could make out what looked like a man; the blood was deep and red about him. Morven rushed towards him. Just as she got there the man rose quickly, he was a bedraggled tramp, his long unkempt hair matted to his head, bits of food were stuck in his beard, his eyes were manic, his teeth blood red. He clutched a bloody knife. He lunged. Morven lurched and screamed, she fell back. ☯

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She woke with a start, and a loud gasp, her pulse was racing and her head pounding. The phone rang insistently in the hallway. She got up gingerly from the chair, she groaned out loud, her body was aching. 18

The phone seemed to get more insistent with every ring. By the time she reached the phone the pain in her head was almost unbearable. She snatched the receiver violently from its cradle. At last the noise stopped. She put the receiver to her ear, but didn’t say a word. “Hello?” The voice on the other end was confused “Morven is that you?” “Uuuuh?” Was all she could manage. “Morven, its Frank?” Her brain was really slow, she knew she knew a Frank, but from where she couldn’t remember. “Uuuuh?” “Frank from St Joe’s.” Oh my God of course, the boss. How could she forget? An image of a long forgotten Christmas party entered her head, but she forced back the memory. “I know you don’t usually do them, but I’ve got no choice, it’s you or nothing.” “Do what?” Morven’s voice finally croaked into life. “A job in the field.” Morven usually only ever worked in the morgue, Frank gave her special permission, thought she was too sensitive or something. She didn’t really mind, it meant she could practise her techniques in the creepy, but quiet surroundings. She always laughed when they

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referred to a crime scene or a suspicious death as a job in the field. It was almost as if they thought they were in a Hollywood movie. “Pleeeeaase.” She hated hearing a man plead, so she quickly agreed. Frank gave her the address and she wrote it down. “I’ll be there in half an hour.” “Make it twenty.” She didn’t bother to reply she hung up the phone and grabbed her coat and camera equipment. She took one last look at the flat before she left, the pictures were strewn all over the floor, she’d have to clean that when she got back.

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-CHAPTER TWO-

As Morven arrived snow was starting to fall, it was only early November, but winter was well and truly setting in. The top of the road was cordoned off with police tape. A very young looking policeman stood at the tape, studiously keeping an eye on the group of onlookers that had gathered. Each desperate to satisfy their morbid curiosity, hoping that they could catch a glimpse of something, anything. Some blood or even a body. Morven pulled the heavy silver case that held all of her equipment out of the car. She trudged through the snow, which was lying easily, and approached the young policeman. “Sorry luv, you can’t come any further.” He held up his hand to stop her. Morven found herself studying his acne, which covered his face, he couldn’t have been more than eighteen. She must have been staring as the policeman started to blush. Morven fished around in her pocket and produced her ID badge. “Sorry Ma’am.” The policeman sounded as if he was a scolded schoolboy talking to the headmistress. He quickly lifted up the tape and Morven ducked under. She could feel all the eyes of the crowd boring into her. Why was she let in? Why not us? She could feel them ask.

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“Step back from the tape please.” She was glad the policeman had something to do, she glanced back to see him pushing the crowd back, he looked as if he was in his element. She pulled her coat tightly around her, she was glad she’d bought it in the sales a couple of years ago. The wind picked up as she trudged down the street, forcing her to bow her head to keep the snow out of her eyes. A group of uniformed policemen stood huddled together at the top of a small alleyway. Morven showed her badge and one of them pointed down the alley. She walked slowly, the alley was just a gap between two houses, she studied the pale sandstone walls as she approached another strip of tape that blocked the way. Yet another policeman stood the other side of the tape. Again she flashed her badge. “Wait there.” He spoke in a gruff emotionless voice. As she waited in silence Morven thought to herself that outside police stations she’d never seen so many policemen in the one place. As she looked over the tape she could see about six people wandering about in their sterile white paper suits, each seemed to know exactly what they were doing, dusting for fingerprints, scraping for samples. One of the men in white suits and the policemen were talking, they nodded in her direction, then they came over. As they came over the man in the white suit pulled off his hood and face mask revealing what Morven thought was a friendly face, round and 22

chubby, with his eyes hidden by thick eyebrows and fat cheeks. His mouth was broad and easily broke into a smile. “DI Harker.” He held out his hand and shook Morven’s vigorously. “Morven Zubiski.” Morven smiled. “Unusual name.” “My father was Polish.” “Oh right.” He seemed slightly lost as to what to say next, more used to police procedure than polite conversation. The policeman coughed, saving Harker from his dilemma. “Yeah right.” He eased back into police mode “Harris here will show where you can suit up. You got your equipment?” Morven raised her case in evidence. “Yeah of course, how could I miss that.” Harris led Morven back up the alley and past the group of policemen, who were still milling about. Morven could here them mumbling and grumbling as they passed, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Harris climbed a set of stairs, which led up to the door of one of the houses. He pushed the door open and went in, Morven followed him. The first thing Morven noticed was the smell, it smelt of animals and urine. “Used to be a squat, bunch of junkies used it for god knows what.” Harris saw her wrinkle her nose. She just nodded. 23

Harris stopped at a door with peeling green paint and pushed it open. “You can change in there, I’ll wait outside.” Morven walked inside and closed the door behind her, the entire room was covered with sheets of polythene to try and keep it sterile. There were two clothes racks, one with people’s clothes, the other with white paper suits. Morven took off her coat; it was then that she remembered how cold it was, she found herself shivering. She took off her jumper, boots and jewellery and then carefully climbed into one of the white suits. There was a row of wellington boots along the wall, she selected the ones that fitted her and slid them on. She picked up her equipment case, as she walked her suit rustled. She opened the door and stepped out. Harris looked her up and down “Better pull your hood up.” “Eh?” Morven couldn’t hear him above the noise of the suit. “Hood.” He pointed at it. “Sorry.” Morven gathered up her hair and pulled the hood into place. Suddenly the noise was magnified ten times, great swooshing noises erupted in her ears each time she moved. Harris led her back down the alley. She could feel the cold biting at her body. She longed to be back at home in front of a roaring fire. Harris lifted up the tape and let her duck under. DI Harker was the first to greet her. 24

“Right I want shots of everything, blood on the walls, the floor, but most importantly the body.” “The body?” “Yeah, they did tell you this was a murder scene?” “Well kind of aye, I just didn’t think.” “First time?” “No I deal with bodies all the time at the morgue, it’s just been a while.” “Don’t worry about it, I’ll introduce you to Dr Death, he’ll talk you through it.” “Dr Death?” “It’s a nickname for Haldane.” Morven still looked confused “The pathologist?” “Oh right.” Morven could feel herself blush. Somebody shouted Harker. “You’ll be fine, any questions just ask.” Before Morven could say anything he was off. She stood for a moment feeling like a spare extra, then she knelt down and opened her equipment case. “Might as well make myself busy.” She said to herself. She pulled out the camera body and started to wipe it clean with a small brush, everything had to be just so. She attached the lens and made sure it was all working properly.

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Satisfied she loaded the film and listened to the motor wind on, to her it sounded like a heartbeat, life being breathed into the machine. She steadied herself, she had to be calm, her breathing under control. Taking the pictures was the easy part. First she focused on the wall, a trail of blood left by a hand looked like a deep gash against the sandstone. The flash whined into life. Whoomph! The flash fired. The first picture out of the way the rest should be easier. Watching the world through a viewfinder Morven felt her most comfortable, she could observe everything without the need to participate. But as she took picture after picture something started gnawing at the back of her mind. The alley felt familiar, yet she’d never been to this part of town. As she worked her way down the alley, nearing the white tent that housed the body, apprehension grew in her. She became almost crippled with fear as she stood outside the tent; this was the alley from her dream. She recognised the walls, the snow covering the ground, everything was the same. She found herself thrust back into her dream, the snow lying thickly. A trail of blood on the ground, the tramps lifeless body, his eyes suddenly flashing wide and his blood red teeth racing towards her.

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She gasped and flung her hand out to catch her balance. The feeling of the hard wall brought her back to reality. It took her a moment to take in her surroundings. She found herself outside the tent and lowered the camera from her face; the fear didn’t subside, if anything it felt more real. Suddenly the flap of the tent swung open. Morven gasped and nearly dropped the camera. Haldane stood in front of her; his halfrimmed glasses perched on the end of his long hooknose. He had a long thin face and an expression that always looked as if he’d smelt something bad. “Morven? Don’t often see you out.” His voice always sounded snappy. “Short staffed.” Morven’s heart slowly moved back down from her throat. “Least I can rely on you to get the necessaries.” Morven wasn’t sure, but that sounded like a compliment. “Who is it?” she found herself asking. “Looks like a homeless, somebody’s decided to make a patchwork out of his chest.” Haldane stepped out of the way allowing Morven to see the body for the first time. She felt unable to move her feet rooted to the spot. The tramp from her dream lay before her. She tried to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. “Just keep breathing through your mouth.” Morven looked at Haldane. 27

“Then you won’t have to smell him.” Morven looked back at the tramp, half expecting him to move. She could see his eyes staring straight ahead. Was that a question forming on his lips? Her fear held her back, but her curiosity egged her on. She moved inside the tent. The light inside was good, it all reflected off the white walls of the tent giving it a sort of eerie feel. “Remember not to touch him.” Haldane let the front of the tent shut, so that Morven could carry on in private. She focused on his face at first, his eyes were piercing blue, his cheeks were criss-crossed with broken veins, his teeth discoloured and broken. His jacket was a faded blue anorak with the stuffing breaking out at the seams. Underneath the anorak he wore what remained of a brown jumper and a heavily stained shirt. His chest had been ripped open by about twenty jagged cuts, the blood now black as pitch as it dried and clung to his body. Morven herself wondered if she had just imagined the dream. After all, why would she dream about a dying tramp? She didn’t know him from Adam; she’d never even seen him before. She tried raking her memory to see if she had been in this part of town before, but she kept drawing a blank. A little nagging thought started to grow at the back of her mind, maybe she had been here before, maybe she had something to do with the tramp’s death. She dismissed the thought as ridiculous before it had the chance to be fully formed and carried on photographing the body, pushing her 28

thoughts away, she’d gone into mode, like a machine, clicking and whirring away. The ground by the body showed few signs of disturbance, he could have been killed before the snow fell. Morven noticed that the body had no shoes, yet for a tramp he had remarkably clean feet. As she worked quickly and quietly she had to fight the almost overpowering smell of alcohol, piss and shit that flooded her nostrils. She remembered Haldane’s words about breathing through her mouth. Whoever this man was he didn’t appear to have had a very happy life. The last of the pictures taken Morven left the tent. Haldane was standing outside scratching his head with the leg of his glasses. “Finished?” “All done.” “You’ll have them done by three?” “Okay.” Haldane nodded then waved two men into the tent. Morven could hear rustling sounds and the odd grunt. Moments later the two men came out carrying the body between them in a large black bodybag. Morven had seen enough; she went over to where she’d left the equipment case and packed away the camera. In the polythene room she climbed out of her paper suit, throwing it into a wastebin. She needed a shower badly, she felt dirty to the core. She wrapped herself in her big coat and left as quickly as she could. 29

She went home first, she didn’t like the showers at work, they didn’t make her clean enough. Before taking her jacket off she made her way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. It spat into life, filling the house with the noise of rushing water. She went back to the front room and threw her jacket onto the sofa. She untied her boots and turned quickly walking straight into the equipment case. “FUCK!” She screamed, falling onto the sofa and clutching her foot “Fuck fuck fuck.” She moaned, repeating it like a mantra that would make the pain go away. She hobbled back to the bathroom and slammed the door shut on the world. The water had a therapeutic effect, pounding into her skin and roaring past her ears. She closed her eyes and raised her head to the roof, letting the water wash over her face. She quickly forgot the pain in her foot. She took a step back and looked down at herself, watching as her skin turned from porcelain white to rosy pink. The steam from the shower filled the room; it acted like a warm insulating cocoon, while ever she was in here the problems outside didn’t matter. She closed her eyes and let the water wash over her. Suddenly a face was in front of her, the tramp with the piercing eyes. He smiled, revealing his blood red teeth. Morven screamed and stumbled out of the way, her foot hit the edge of the bath, she teetered for a second, made a desperate grab

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for the shower curtain. She was too late. She toppled out of the bath, landing on the floor with a thud. She looked around her, dazed and confused. There was no one in sight, just her feet dangling in the air as she looked down at her legs draped over the side of the bath. She gingerly picked herself up; feeling more embarrassed than anything. She began wrapping a towel round herself; she stretched round to have a look at her backside. Already a large bruise was starting to grow. “Great.” She groaned, that was all she needed. She limped off to her bedroom, convinced that a change of clothes would improve her mood. She pulled open the cupboard door and examined her choices. There was the black dress, the black jeans, the black blouse, the black jumper and countless black shoes. “I really need to add some colour to this.” She mumbled to herself as she pulled out the black jeans and the black jumper. She dressed quickly and examined herself in the mirror. The black ensemble made her porcelain skin look even whiter. She tied back her shoulder length black hair into a ponytail, she’d often thought of dying it blonde, but never had the guts to go through with it. She stepped closer to the mirror and examined her large brown eyes; they were a little red around the edges, probably lack of sleep. She smiled, revealing the chip to her front tooth that she’d never got round to fixing; she’d got used to it now, thought it added character.

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Reluctantly satisfied she put her big coat back on, gathered up her stuff and left the flat.

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-CHAPTER THREE-

The morgue was an old stone building made of granite adjacent to the main hospital building. Its grey appearance kind of added to the general mood of the place. Morven bounded up the stairs, she signed the sheet and smiled at Bill the security guard. He smiled back and buzzed her in the main doors. She made her way down one of the endless corridors. The green tiles on the wall reflected the powerful strip lighting overhead giving the whole place a sickly yellow glow. Her shoes squeaked and squelched as she walked, she’d learnt not to wear hard sole shoes as the clicks from them went on forever. As she passed Frank’s office the door swung open, Frank stood there his face slightly flushed. “Morven. Just the person, can I have a word?” He stepped back allowing her in. The office was a mess, stacks of papers lying everywhere. Nearly every inch of shelf space on the walls was full. Frank squeezed himself into the chair behind the desk. “Please take a seat.” He gestured with his hand. Morven sat down, she felt nervous and could feel her palms starting to sweat. She tried to remember if there was anything she’d done wrong or forgotten to do. 33

“How’s things?” Frank fidgeted with some of the papers on his desk, moving them from one pile and then back again. Morven felt more relaxed, Frank looked even more nervous than she did. Beads of sweat forming on his forehead; he ran a finger round his collar and loosened his tie. “Fine.” Morven tried to help him out. “That’s good.” Frank rummaged through the mess on his desk, trying to find something inparticular, without much success. Morven waited, her mind starting to drift. She found herself in the alley, snow lying heavily on the ground. A shiver ran down her spine. The lifeless body of the tramp lay at her feet, as she looked down she saw a bloody knife in her hand. “Gotcha!” Morven nearly jumped out of her skin as she looked up at Frank waving a sheet of paper in the air. Frank’s look of elation soon changed as he stared at Morven. “You all right?” “Yeah, I’m fine.” “But you’re crying?” Morven wiped her cheek and felt the moisture of her tears, she hadn’t even known she was crying. “It’s nothing honest. Just something in my eye.” She quickly tried to cover it up. Frank leaned closer, resting his elbows on the desk. “It’s nothing, you’ll think I’m being stupid.” 34

“If you’re sure?” Morven just nodded. She wanted to tell Frank about the tramp and the dream, but he’d think she was mad. Probably sack her or have her carted off to the loony bin. “I need you to fill in these forms for Haldane.” Frank handed over the papers he held in his hand “And then you’ll have to get today’s photographs developed, he’s starting at two.” “He told me three.” Morven checked her watch. “That’s Haldane for you.” Frank shrugged. Morven took the papers and stood up to leave. “If you have got any problems. “ Frank looked slightly lost “Eh, you know where I am.” Morven smiled sympathetically and left. She carried on down the corridor and then stopped at the door marked darkroom; she put her equipment case down and rummaged in her pockets for the keys. The door creaked open; Callum stood in front of her, his shirt hanging out of his trousers, his tie askew. “Thought you were out?” He tried to tuck in his shirt with one hand and tidy his hair with the other. Tracy from x-ray appeared behind him, she looked almost perfect apart from her pink cardigan being buttoned up wrongly. “Not disturbing anything was I?” Morven tried not to laugh. She hated Tracy; she was everything she was not, blonde, popular, attractive and easy. “I was just showing Tracy the equipment.” 35

Morven could hold it in no longer; the laugh came right from her belly and roared out her mouth. Tracy squeezed past them and wiggled quickly up the corridor. “Tracy!” Callum shouted after her, but she kept on going. Morven picked up her case and went inside. “What did you do that for?” Callum turned his anger on her. “What?” Morven shrugged, trying to look serious. “You know.” “What was it, true love?” Morven was enjoying this “C’mon Callum you know she’s had nearly everyone in the hospital, including some of the patients.” “You’re just jealous.” Callum huffed. “Of that? I don’t think so.” “Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.” “Fuck off Callum, you’re out of your mind.” “Ooooo!” Morven swung at Callum, she didn’t really intend to hit him and didn’t care when she missed. Part of her knew he was right. Callum ducked out of the way and darted out of the room. “Pratt.” Morven sniffed. She took off her coat and hung it on the available peg. She was in a small anti-room before the darkroom itself. A sort of fail-safe so that nobody could wander in un-announced and spoil everything. She checked the light above the door, it wasn’t on, the room was clear. She picked up her equipment case and went inside. 36

She felt perfectly at home in the gloomy atmosphere of the darkroom. At the far end was a large film processor that they had got cheap from a high street store that had gone bust. It developed everything in about twenty minutes, cut down on all the hassle. Along the wall were shelf after shelf full of chemicals. Morven slid the door shut; she knew exactly what she was doing and set about her task with the confident ease of a well-oiled machine. She took three rolls of film and spliced them onto a plastic leader card, when she’d finished that she opened up the film processor and inserted the leader card. She closed the lid and pressed a few buttons, the machine went silently about its business. She did this three more times until all her films had gone through the machine. She clipped the negatives onto a string stretched across the room and let them dry. She then prepared the chemicals needed for her to make the prints, the developer, the fixer and some water. Each was poured into a small tray. She flicked off the lights and let the red ultra violet light do its job. She loved it when everything was bathed in the red glow. Somehow things felt more alive. She pulled the enlarger in front of her and opened out a box of paper. She put the negatives into the enlarger and exposed each one for a split second onto the paper. Now for her favourite part, using a pair of tongs she picked up the paper and placed it into the tray of developer. As she gently shook the paper the image began to appear. She always loved this part, she felt like a little girl each time as she almost gasped as the 37

image appeared. She lifted the paper out and placed it in the fixer tray for a second then the tray of water. She pinned each print onto the string with a crocodile clip until it was loaded with nearly a hundred prints. She couldn’t help staring at them as she tidied up. She couldn’t take her eyes off one particular print, a close-up of the tramps face. His eyes staring questioningly back at her. As she moved round the darkroom putting the chemicals back on the shelf and running the trays under the tap the eyes seemed to follow her, demanding answers. A shiver ran down her spine. Suddenly the phone rang, Morven nearly jumped out of her skin. She composed herself and walked over to the phone hanging on the wall by the door. She took a couple of deep breaths then answered it. “Hello?” She tried not to sound nervous. “Yo Morven.” “Charlie?” “Who’d you think it was?” Charlie spoke like a machine gun, the words rapidly firing out “You still on for tonight?” “Eh?” “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten, you promised.” “Forgotten what?” “Och you have haven’t you?” Morven desperately raked her memory, trying to remember what Charlie was on about. 38

“You know, my pictures?” Suddenly it all came flooding back; she’d promised Charlie she’d take some pictures of him for his portfolio. He was trying to be an actor. “Yeah no problem. Come round at nine.” “Aaw you’re a diamond Morven, an absolute diamond.” There was a knock at the door. “Look I’ve got to go, somebody’s here.” “Right okay, I’ll see you at nine then.” “Okay seeya.” Morven quickly hung up before Charlie could say anymore. She quickly switched the lights so that everything returned to normal light. She had to blink a little so that her eyes could get used to the sudden brightness. She then gently slid open the door. DI Harker stood there, munching slowly on a bacon roll. “Hello?” Morven peered at him as she stood in the doorway blocking his way. “You not gonna let me in then?” He smiled, revealing a bit of gristle stuck between his teeth. “You’ve got…” Morven tried to discretely tell him about the gristle. “Eh?” “In your teeth.” “What?”

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“You’ve got something stuck in your teeth.” Morven gave up all pretence of trying to be subtle. “Oh right.” Harker swept his tongue over his teeth and found the offending item. He tried to pick it out with his tongue, but it wouldn’t budge, so he picked at it with an overly large thumbnail. Morven tried not to watch. “Did I get it?” He bared his teeth. “Yeah it’s gone.” Morven just quickly glanced, she felt sick and couldn’t bear to look any longer. “Nice one.” Morven turned away, trying not to think of him. “So are these the pictures then?” Harker peered over her shoulder. Morven unclipped the pictures from the line. “Made quite a mess of him.” Harker picked up a print and examined it. He turned it around and looked at it sideways, as if that would give him a greater insight. Harker’s beeper went off. He put the pictures down and examined the beeper. “They’re starting the autopsy, you’d better bring those pictures along.” Morven gathered up the pictures and followed Harker down the corridor. She studied him as they walked, for a large man he moved quickly, his bulk swaying as he went along.

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“You know you remind me of my daughter.” Harker stopped in his tracks and turned to face Morven. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.” Morven didn’t really know anything about Harker. “She’ll be seventeen in March.” Harker had a far away look in his eye. “A teenager eh.” “She’s not that bad. Studying to go to university, it’ll be the first time she’s been away from home for more than a fortnight.” Morven found it hard to believe that Harker had this softer side. She imagined him as the archetypal policeman, a man’s man. First through the door, always there when there’s trouble. “What’s she studying?” “No idea, some sort of science or maths thing. Lots of numbers anyway.” “You’re going to miss her aren’t you?” “I suppose I am.” Harker spoke quietly after a short while. “Still, it’ll mean more time for you and your wife.” “She died three years ago.” “Oh.” Morven wanted the ground to swallow her up “Sorry.” “Don’t worry about it, you weren’t to know.” Harker continued along the corridor in silence. Morven followed along behind Harker, staring down at the floor, when she looked up she knew they were approaching the mortuary,

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the flickering light above the doorway was always a give-away. For as long as Morven could remember the light had flickered. Harker pushed his way through the door and held it open for Morven. Dr Haldane stood there in his scrubs holding a clipboard. “Detective.” He didn’t even look up. “It’s Detective Inspector.” Harker corrected him “Do you reckon you’ll learn anything?” “Morven you’ll find a set of scrubs next door, I’ll see you in five.” Haldane talked right over Harker as he continued to scribble things onto the clipboard. Harker looked at Morven, she just shrugged. She handed him the pictures and walked next door. The door closed behind her with a gentle swish. The room was lined with lockers. Morven picked one at random and opened it. Inside were a set of green surgical scrubs hanging on a coat hook and a pair of dainty looking white boots. She carefully undressed, placing her clothes neatly inside the locker. She slipped into the scrubs. They felt free, almost natural. They allowed her the maximum amount of movement without getting in the way. She pulled on the boots, the bit she hated, they were anything but elegant. They forced her to waddle as she walked. She re-tied her hair back with the obligatory scrunchie that she always carried with her and waddled back through the door. “Suits you.” Harker smiled as she walked out. She smiled sarcastically back at him. 42

Dr Haldane and his assistant, Rob, stood over the body as it lay on the mortuary table. “He looks peaceful.” Morven picked up the camera; it was an old bulky thing, a bit like a Polaroid. “He was infested with flees and god knows what.” Haldane finally looked up “Rob here had to de-louse him.” Rob screwed up his face in mock disgust, Morven stifled a giggle. “We must get on.” Haldane pulled a trolley full of scalpels, saws and even hammers. It looked like torture equipment. He slipped on a pair of latex gloves, his fingers looked like the death throws of a massive spider, they squeaked and snapped into place. “Can I have a few shots before we start.” Morven waddled forward. The bulky camera felt cumbersome and awkward in her hands. She hadn’t noticed, but her breathing had speeded up. She took one long breath and exhaled slowly. “When you’re ready.” Haldane pushed his spectacles up his nose; they fell straight back again. Whoomph! The flash fired. Morven framed the shot so that she could get the whole of the body in. The camera stopped whining, signalling its readiness. Whoomph! 43

The flash fired. A close up of the face. Whoomph! The flash fired. A profile shot of the face. Whoomph! The flash fired. A close up of the wounds on the torso. “Right.” Haldane had a scalpel in his hand. Morven took a couple of steps back. She watched as Haldane opened the body up with precision. A single large cut from neck to groin. The skin opened easily. It looked ragged and angry round the wounds. Haldane produced what looked like a silver chrome car jack. He placed it on either side of his incision and started to turn the handle. The ribcage opened with a sickening crunch. Morven watched as Haldane took out organ after organ, Rob weighed each one while she photographed each one with a ruler next to it, so that they could easily gauge its size. It was like some sort of surreal trip to the butchers, each organ was just another piece of meat. “Remind me to die in my sleep.” Harker tried to make light of things. Morven had forgotten he was there. She turned to look at him. “It’s just that you do it all so calmly and methodically.” 44

Morven must have given him a look without knowing it. He seemed to squirm inside his suit. “We all return to the ground from whence we came.” Haldane didn’t even look up as he pulled the liver out. “He liked his drink.” Rob took the liver from Haldane. “Don’t we all.” Harker sniggered at his own joke. “He’d probably have been dead within the year.” “You can tell that just from that thing?” Harker had never been very hot on sciences. “That thing as you so quaintly put it is the man’s liver. Note the blackened swollen nature of it.” Haldane poked at it with his finger “It is in the final stages of failure, probably after years of systematic alcohol abuse.” “Oh.” Was all Harker could manage, as he started to turn distinctly green around the gills. “The toilets are down the corridor third on the right.” Haldane had seen many a high-ranking officer lose his lunch in the mortuary. “Thanks.” Harker walked quickly out, but could soon be heard running down the corridor. Rob and Morven giggled. “Shall we get on.” Haldane stuck his hands back inside the body.

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Morven washed her hands vigorously under the taps. She always found it difficult to make herself feel clean after an autopsy. No matter how hard or how long she scrubbed the smell of antiseptic was always strong. “Careful or you’ll wash them away.” Rob stood next to her, drying his hands with a paper towel. “I never get them clean, they always stink.” Morven sniffed at her fingers. “I know, it’s the smell of death.” Rob put on a melodramatic deep voice. “Aaw thanks.” Morven laughed and flicked him with water. “Aaargh my eyes!” Rob eyes play acted, grabbing his face. Morven flicked water at him again, Rob writhed in agony. He fell to the floor giving an Oscar winning performance. Morven stopped suddenly as Dr Haldane entered the room; she nudged Rob with her foot as he continued to writhe on the floor. “At it again Rob?” Haldane went straight to the sinks. “Sorry Dr Haldane.” Rob quickly picked himself up and dusted himself down. “Honestly I swear that boy missed his vocation in life. You should have been on the stage.” “Aye there’s one leaving in twenty minutes.” Morven burst out laughing. “Shaddup.” Rob threw a wad of paper towels at Morven. “Now now children.” Haldane peered over his glasses at them. 46

“So what do you make of his feet?” Morven tried to change the conversation. “Eh?” Rob just looked confused. “Well you saw them, they were perfectly clean.” “And?” “When was the last time you saw a tramp with clean feet?” “Maybe he was hygienic.” “Maybe he had a Jesus fixation.” Haldane combed his hair and checked himself in the mirror. “A Jesus fixation?” “Wash the feet to cleanse the soul.” “I don’t get you.” Rob was still lost. “Read your bible.” With that Haldane swept out, leaving Rob and Morven in a state of confusion. “What was he on about?” “God knows.” Morven bent down and started picking up the paper towels. “So are you coming out with us lot tonight?” “Sorry?” “Don’t tell me Callum didn’t tell you?” “Oh that. No, I’ve got something else on.” “You sure? You’d be missing a good night.” “No thanks.” Morven stood up and put the paper towels in the bin.

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“You don’t know what you’d be missing.” Rob made his way to the door. “A bunch of blokes shouting, getting pissed, making complete fools of themselves and then throwing up.” Morven mumbled to herself. “What?” Rob stopped in the doorway. “Nothing. I’ll see you.” Rob nodded and pushed his was through the door. Morven washed her hands again and then made her way back to the locker room. She stood in front of the mirror, there was something about them that was strangely fascinating, it was the only real chance you ever got to see yourself as other see you. She pulled off the scrubs and threw them in the hygiene bin. She went back to the mirror and looked at herself naked and exposed. She twisted round so that she could see her backside. The bruise had grown and turned a deep angry purple. It was only then that she started to feel the dull ache spread across her back. She gingerly put on her own clothes, instantly feeling more comfortable. She looked back at the mirror, what she saw was an image of herself that she was far more familiar with. The dark clothes, the pale skin and the large unblinking eyes. This was how she saw herself; this certain image made her feel safe and protected.

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-CHAPTER FOUR-

Morven rushed round the flat tidying up. It was only Charlie that was coming round, but she had to make the effort. She’d taken two paracetemol and a glass of vodka to try and numb the pain in her backside from her fall earlier. The edge had been taken off just enough for her to live with it. She’d set the backdrop up against the living room wall, she’d decided to go for the grey swirls rather than her other choices of jet black or blue sky. Knowing Charlie he’d want the jet black. She had two umbrella lights stashed behind the sofa. They’d cost her twenty pounds for the pair at the market. Probably fallen off the back of a lorry, but she didn’t care. She gingerly lowered herself onto the sofa finally satisfied with her attempts at tidying up. Another vodka and a couple of paracetemol later the doorbell buzzed. She hauled herself up and over to the intercom. Her head felt pleasantly numb. “Hi honey I’m home!” Charlie yelled. She giggled and buzzed him in. A few seconds later the front door was nearly knocked off its hinges as Charlie thumped the door. Morven opened the door. “Ta ra!” Charlie burst into the flat.

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Morven wondered if he’d ever been quiet or shy in his entire life. He strutted into the living room dressed in a black polo neck sweater, tight leather jeans and Doc Martens. Morven watched him as she could see nearly every muscle bulge and move as he walked. “God it’s a shame he’s gay.” She thought. “You’ve started without me.” Charlie spotted the half-empty glass. “Just a couple. You want one?” “Oh I don’t know, I don’t want to spoil the look.” Morven stifled a giggle. “Oh all right. Just to take the edge off, y’know.” Morven went to the kitchen to get another glass. “You don’t think it’ll spoil the effect?” Charlie called from the living room. “No. You look gorgeous anyway.” Morven shouted back. “Oh sweetie you say the nicest things.” Morven came back through carrying a glass in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. Charlie took the glass from her and let her fill it. “Chin chin.” Charlie downed his in one go. “Take it easy, we’ve got all night.” “Must be more nervous than I thought.” “There’s nothing to worry about. You get ready and I’ll set up.” “Okay.” Charlie strutted off to the bathroom. 50

Morven brought the umbrella lights out from behind the sofa and set them up in front of the backdrop. She dragged the tripod from the corner of the room, where it always stood, like some sort of strange sculpture. She opened up he equipment case and took out the camera and fastened it to the tripod, a move she could do with her eyes shut. She sat down on the sofa and waited for Charlie to finish in the bathroom. She checked her watch and waited some more. “You ready yet?” “You can’t rush perfection.” Charlie shouted back. She sniffed and rolled her eyes to the heavens. “What do you think?” Charlie came back into the living room. “What can I say.” Morven found it hard to notice anything different. “Oh my beauty has struck her dumb.” “Shut up and get in front of the camera.” “Oooo hark at her.” “Just move, ya prima donna.” “What are they?” Charlie pointed at the silver umbrellas on top of their stands. “Light reflectors, you like them?” “Not really my colour. Right, where’d you want me?” “Just stand where you are and look enigmatic.” “I can do that.” 51

Charlie struck an array of different poses. Morven watched him through the viewfinder of her camera. “Now be serious.” “I am.” “Charlie.” “Okay.” Charlie put on the petted lip for a moment, but then slipped straight back into character. He struck his best macho pose. Morven was impressed, he was a natural at it, every pose she asked him to do he did it. She refused point blank to let him smile. Mean and moody was better. After half and hour she repositioned the lights. She angled them so they exaggerated his strong jaw line. His immaculately cut hair looked as if it was ringed by a halo. She stood back and admired him. “What?” Charlie broke the spell. “Sorry?” “You were looking at me funny.” “Was I?” “Yeah. It was as if … I don’t know… as if you fancied me.” “Aye right. You should be so lucky.” Morven hoped he couldn’t see her blushing. She hid behind the camera and started taking more pictures. “Can I sit down now?” Charlie sounded like a big kid. 52

“Yeah all right. I’ve nearly finished this film anyway.” Charlie sauntered over to the sofa and collapsed on to it. “Aaw is diddums tired?” “I’ll be all right if you get me a medicinal vodka.” “You’re on.” Morven filled up the glasses and both of them downed it in one. “Aaaah!” They gasped in unison. “Another?” Morven started to pour before he could answer, but he didn’t try and stop her. The two of them slumped on the sofa slowly emptying the vodka bottle. “Did you hear anything back from the competition?” “What competition?” Morven turned the glass in her hand round and round. “The one at the Cardale, God I swear your memory gets worse.” “Not a dicky bird, I’d virtually forgotten all about it.” “But I thought it was going to be your big break.” “Aye right.” Morven snorted. “So I’ll be poor for a while longer then?” “Who said I’d give you anything anyway.” “You did.” “I did not.” “Let’s call it for services rendered.” “What did you ever do for me?” 53

“Oh how quickly we forget.” Charlie mugged hurt. “You big drama queen.” Morven playfully hit Charlie “Just give us a refill.” Charlie reached for the bottle and refilled Morven’s glass. “You got any gossip?” Charlie refilled his own glass. “You know me, I never hear anything. It all sort of passes me by.” “What, nothing on one of these dishy young doctors?” “Nah, they’re all boring anyway.” “Who cares what they say, it’s what they can do with their hands.” “Charlie!” Morven blurted. “What?” Charlie pretended to be all innocent “You can’t blame a boy for looking.” “Anyway, all I deal with all day is stiffs.” “Oooo you lucky bitch.” Morven laughed out loud and threw a cushion at him. “Geroff!” Charlie tried to shield himself from the blows to little or no success. Morven hit him a few more times until she collapsed onto the sofa. “Get us another.” Charlie waved his empty glass. Morven poured the last of the vodka. “That didn’t last long.” “I think there’s another in the kitchen.” 54

Morven got up and went into the kitchen. She rattled about in the cupboards until she found a bottle. “It’s only southern comfort.” She came back into the living room. “If it’s got alcohol it’s fine by me.” Charlie had already finished the last of the vodka. They drank a few more and lounged on the sofa. Their mood became quieter and more sombre. “Do you ever have bad dreams?” Morven asked. “You mean like nightmares?” “Well sort of.” “Not since I was a kid … How?” “I dunno. It’s just that … Well I think anyway.” “Spit it out.” “I’m having this recurring one.” Morven tried to explain “Well it’s just that the same thing always happens.” “Is there a guy in it?” “Yeah.” “Tell me more.” “No it’s nothing like that.” Morven suddenly wished she hadn’t said a word. She felt kind of nervous and stupid. There was a nervous silence between the two of them. “You going to tell me or not?” Charlie chided her. “You promise you won’t laugh.”

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“Would I do such a thing?” Charlie put his hand on heart in mock seriousness. “I’m walking down the street. It’s snowing and I’m staring at my feet. There’s a trail of blood on the ground. I follow the trail. It’s strange, but I can’t see anybody’s face, they’re all blurred and out of focus.” “Do you feel cold?” “What’s that got to do with anything?” “I don’t know, I was just asking.” “I don’t know to be honest, I can’t remember. Anyway, the trail leads to this alley; there’s a bundle of rags lying crumpled in a pile, on the ground. Only they’re not rags. “They’re not rags?” “No, it’s a man’s body, he’s dead.” “Has anyone ever told you you’re weird.” “It gets worse.” “How?” “I think I killed him.” “You, kill someone, you must be joking.” Charlie stifled a laugh. “It’s not funny.” Morven’s face turned ashen. “You really do think you did it, don’t you?” Charlie realised Morven wasn’t joking. “It’s not that I think I did it. It’s just that… Well what else could it be? It was so damn real. I must be involved.” “It’s just your mind playing tricks on you.” 56

“But what if it’s not? What if I wake up some day covered in blood and a dead body at my feet.” “You are weird.” “Thanks for the support.” “You’ve been working too hard, here have another drink.” Charlie refilled her glass. “I saw him in the shower.” “Pardon?” “I was having a shower and when I closed my eyes I could see the dead guy’s face.” “Sheeesh.” “You don’t think I’m going mad do you?” “You? Mad? Good god no. If you were mad then what the hell would that make me?” Morven looked thoughtful for a moment. “That was meant as reassurance.” “Yeah I know I’m sorry. Look thanks for listening, I didn’t mean to burden you with all that rubbish.” “Don’t worry, it’s what I’m here for.” “You’re a good mate Charlie.” Morven hugged Charlie. He was caught slightly unaware by such a show of emotion. “Hey, it’s all right babe.” He hugged her back “It really got to you didn’t it?”

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“Just rattled me a bit that’s all.” Morven realised she’d probably exposed herself a bit more than she intended. She stared down at the ground feeling nervous and embarrassed. “Do you want me to stay the night?” It was a surprising question from Charlie, but at that moment Morven felt very alone indeed. “You don’t mind?” “Why should I? It’s not often I get to spend the night with a beautiful woman.” Morven could feel herself blush despite herself. “I’ve made you blush.” “No, it’s just very warm in here. Do you mind if I open the window?” “It’s your place, do what you want.” Morven pulled herself out of the sofa and went over to the window. She pulled the old rickety frame open, yet more of the white paint flaked off and fell to the street below. The rush of cold air made the perspiration on her brow freeze and a chill spread across her body. She hadn’t realised that she’d been sweating. She looked out of the window, the street was quiet illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlights. A figure caught her eye standing beneath one of the streetlights, she held her breath, he appeared to be watching her. She glanced back at Charlie; he was engrossed in a glossy woman’s magazine sipping his southern comfort. She looked back out the window, the man she thought had been watching her was now 58

kissing a woman as they walked hand in hand to his car and drove off. Morven laughed at her own paranoia. “What is it?” Charlie looked up from his magazine. “Nothing.” Charlie looked at her “Honest.” “You know I said you weren’t mad? I think I take it back.” “Oh charming.” “You did ask.” “That’s gratitude for you. I let you into my house, I ply you with drink.” “And where did it get you?” “With the best friend a girl could have.” “Oh stop it, now you’re trying to make me blush.” “You blush? You’ve never blushed once.” “Have too.” “Have not.” “I’ll have you know I once came upon my Auntie Enid while she was on the toilet. Blush, I could’ve lit up the Blackpool illuminations.” “Well thank you for that insight into your personal life. It really was an image I could do without.” “Auntie Enid was lovely about it, she proceeded to tell me about all her operations and what those nice doctors were doing to her.” “I get enough of doctors at work thank you. I’d rather not hear about them now.” “Oops sorry, I’d forgotten we weren’t supposed to talk shop.” 59

“It’s all right, it’s just that y’know a sane person can only take so much.” “’Nuff said.” “’Nuff said.” Morven slumped back down on the sofa. “So what about you? When you going to make the big time?” “Well, I was talking to this guy the other night and he said that I’d be perfect.” “Perfect for what?” “Modelling.” “What kind of modelling?” “I dunno he didn’t say.” “Not one of those dodgy revue bars again?” “No. He wanted pictures and everything. That’s why I came to you. He said I needed to build up my portfolio.” “And you thought of me, aaw how sweet.” “You’re taking the piss.” “No I’m not, honest. I’m pleased for you. It’s just that I don’t want to see you hurt again.” “I’m grateful you were there for me before, but this isn’t like the last time, this guy was straight up.” “So long as you know what you’re letting yourself in for.” “Jesus H. You sound like my mother.” “Oh God don’t say that, how could you be so cruel.” “If the cap fits.” 60

“You bitch, I’m not talking to you now.” Morven folded her arms tight across her chest and turned her back on Charlie. Her bad mood didn’t last long as she could see Charlie in the mirror pulling faces behind her back. She couldn’t contain it any more and burst into a fit of giggles.

Charlie was asleep on the sofa; Morven made her way to bed. She thought about closing the window, but decided to leave it. She was glad she’d talked to Charlie, it felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She undressed and put on her pyjamas. She climbed into bed and glanced at the clock 3am, it’d been a good night. She stared up at the ceiling until her eyelids got heavy and she fell asleep. ☯

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The nightclub was busy, people pushed together, sweating, dancing and drinking together. The music blared out of the sound system, its base making your fillings rattle. People swayed in unison, moving with the pulsating beat. Conversation was impossible. The girl moved like an angel, the crowd seemed to part, making way for her. Men looked, but couldn’t touch. Whispers and gestures were passed amongst them as she passed. 61

One was brave enough; he approached her from behind and gently placed his hand upon her shoulder. Men and women held their breath waiting for the slap or the subtle put down, but it never came. She turned and smiled, greeting him like an old friend; they kissed politely on both cheeks and communicated in hand gestures, each understanding exactly what the other meant. The crowd sensed an anti-climax; a groan passed from nearly every man’s lips. Girlfriends suddenly brought boyfriends back into line. The couple moved effortlessly through the crowd towards the bar. The bar was an enclosed area, separated from the dancefloor by soundproof walls. It was a popular area where people could be more intimate and conversations could actually be heard. When the couple entered few noticed the man, but the girl drew attention. Her light silver dress hung perfectly from her thin unblemished shoulders. She flicked her hair and beamed a radiant smile as she walked confidently to her seat. The man went to the bar and ordered a couple of drinks. Many tried not to stare, but her beauty drew them in like a ship crashing on perilous rocks. They stared transfixed by her ruby red lips as she smiled and gesticulated her way through a conversation. All of the men wished they could catch her attention, even just for a moment, and bask in her beauty. The women felt a mixture of envy and admiration. Envy, because they wanted to be her, to have that 62

kind of attention, and admiration because of the power she held over all the men present, she could get them to do anything she wanted with just a look or a smile. They spoke for around an hour and when they left the bar although still busy felt empty. Outside the queue to get in was still large. All eyes turned in envy as the couple walked out. They ignored the waiting taxis and walked up the road. The streetlights became few and far between, but they walked arm in arm without a care in the world. Suddenly he stopped walking, she was caught unawares and stumbled slightly, he held her and pulled her close. She looked up into his face, he down into hers. A momentarily pause and they kissed. Lost in the moment they stumbled into a dark alleyway. She felt the hard unforgiving brick against her back. He caressed her gently. Their actions becoming more and more frantic. Her eyes widened, a gasp escaped her lips as the blade slid easily into her belly. Her eyes looked questioningly into his, no answers could be found. He plunged the knife again and again and again, all the while still holding her close. A little trickle of blood escaped the corner of her mouth; he lent forward and kissed her. Her body now limp slipped easily and gently from his grasp. He bent down and cleaned the blade on her dress. He turned away and smiled, his blood red teeth catching the light.

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Morven woke with a start, her heart was racing. She looked frantically around her; the surroundings of her bedroom came into focus as she wiped the sleep from her eyes. She checked her hands to make sure they were clean, half expecting to see blood, then she swung her legs out of bed and bolted to the bathroom. She turned on the cold tap and splashed her face with water. She looked at the reflection in the mirror and was glad to see her own face staring back. Bloodshot eyes and deep dark lines under them, but definitely her face. She took long slow breaths to try and calm herself, but her heart still raced. She walked slowly to the front room. Charlie was still fast asleep on the sofa; he looked so peaceful and calm. She perched herself on the arm of the sofa and watched him. His body moved rhythmically as he breathed, she watched and counted his breath. Slowly she found that her heart slowed and moved in time with his. She didn’t know how long she sat there, but eventually Charlie began to stir. “Morning.” She hoped she’d put on her best smile. “Hello you.” “Fancy a cup of tea?” “That’d be lovely.”

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She got up and busied herself in the kitchen. She wanted to tell Charlie about her dream, but she felt stupid. He’d probably laugh at her and call her a fruitcake or something. “So when do you reckon the pictures will be ready?” He smiled at her as she came in with two mugs of tea. “Couple of days.” “God, you look as if you’ve been ten rounds with Mike Tyson.” “Gee thanks for the confidence booster.” “That’s what I’m here for.” “Anyway, you don’t look to hot either.” Charlie got up and stood in front of the mirror. “I dunno, I think I look all right.” He was right of course, but at least Morven felt a little better for saying it. “You got work today?” He still faced the mirror running his fingers through his hair. “’Fraid so.” “No rest for the wicked, eh?” “Christ, I must’ve been a hell of a wicked in another life,” Morven laughed sarcastically. “We each have our crosses to bear, yours is your talent with the camera, mine I’m afraid is beauty.” “Oh my heart bleeds for you.” “Your concern is noted.” Charlie smiled his killer smile into the mirror.

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Morven sipped her tea, she envied Charlie his confidence and simplistic outlook on life. She was always filled with neurosis and worry. Her dream from the other night had shaken her more than she cared to admit. The vision of the bloodied teeth was burned into her memory, what significance it had to anything she’d no idea. “You all right now? You don’t mind if I shoot off?” Morven felt Charlie’s presence behind her, she turned and looked into his friendly face. He stared back at her. She couldn’t work out if there was actually anything going on behind his pretty façade, or if he was just going through the niceties. She plumped for the former. “Don’t worry I’ll be fine.” “If you’re sure?” “Get out of here, you big lump.” She playfully bashed him on the shoulder. “Ow, if that’s left a bruise my career could be over before it’s started.” “Are you trying to say a little girl like me could hurt a big lump like you?” “Only emotionally.” Charlie leaned forward and kissed her on both cheeks. He picked up his jacket and with a flourish put it on. Just as he got to the door he turned and winked. With that he was gone. Morven stood in silence for a while, she hadn’t noticed before how quiet and lonely her flat had become. She knew this was only 66

the routine maudlin feeling that always swept over her whenever Charlie’s tornado of activity had departed and like Dorothy in The Wizard Of Oz she found herself back in Kansas. She busied herself with getting dressed and then doing the dishes in a vain attempt to occupy her mind. Each time, though, she stared into the murky dishwater she could see the beautiful face of the girl from the dream staring back at her. She added more washing up liquid to try and hide the water with bubbles, but something in the water didn’t want the bubbles to be there and they kept disappearing. She added more and more washing up liquid, but each time the bubbles died and the face of the girl reappeared. Morven dropped a glass into the water disrupting the image; she grabbed her coat and equipment case and stormed out before she could see if the girl’s face reformed.

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-CHAPTER FIVE-

Morven hated traffic. She had too much patience and courtesy to be a proper driver. A drive that would take anybody else half an hour would take Morven twice that because she was forever letting cars in in front of her and giving way to traffic that was safely far away. It was just something she did. She couldn’t help it. If she left early for work, like she’d done today, she’d still arrive late. Del Amitri’s ‘Always The Last To Know’ blared out of the car stereo. She sang along at the top of her lungs. That was another thing she couldn’t do, drive without sound. There always had to be music playing. It helped stop her thinking. She looked across at the car next to her as she pulled up at a set of traffic lights. A woman stared back at her as if she was mad, wondering what her wild gyrations and howling were all about. Morven stared back at her; she could see the woman tut in disgust. Morven stuck out her tongue and pulled away just as the lights changed. She could see the woman in her rear-view mirror staring open-mouthed; cars stuck behind were beeping their horns. The woman pulled away then stalled her car. The chorus of car horns increased. Morven laughed out loud. Then straight away felt guilty.

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When Morven finally reached the hospital carpark it was full, but she wasn’t concerned. She knew a spot where not many people wanted to park. She pulled her little car round the back of the building to where the hearses parked. There were plenty of spaces there. She pulled up next to one of the long black sleek cars. Nobody seemed to like parking next to them; maybe they thought it brought bad luck? The only bad luck it’d ever brought Morven was when her door had opened too wide and banged into the side of the hearse. Her car was all right, but there was a big dent on the side of the hearse. Much too her shame she’d never owned up, especially not after the incredibly angry and bitter internal memo had been passed round.

Morven walked down the highly polished corridors, her Docs squeaking like excited mice. An unknown orderly pushed a trolley along, the noise of its wheels sounding like rolling thunder as he got closer. “Haldane wants you.” He spoke quietly as he passed. “What?” She didn’t catch what he said. “Haldane.” Was all he shouted back as his trolley quickly disappeared round the corner. Morven wondered if she’d done something wrong, it wasn’t often that Haldane asked for her. Maybe the orderly was pulling her 69

leg; she decided to think nothing more of it and made her way to the locker room. Callum was already there, putting his tatty old leather jacket into his locker. “Someone had a good night.” “Put a sock in it Callum.” “You got out the wrong side of bed.” “I’m not in the mood.” Morven opened the locker and tried to hide behind the door, but it didn’t stop Callum. He came round the other side and continued to pester her. “Have you upset Haldane?” Morven tried to ignore him, but he wouldn’t go away. “He’s been looking for you since early this morning.” “How’d you know? You’re only just in yourself.” “I hear things on the grapevine.” “Oh aye.” “Who was the first person to tell you about Minton sleeping with the bodies?” Callum pointed vigorously at himself. “Yeah, well what you failed to tell everyone that the bodies were alive.” “A body’s a body.” “They were his girlfriends Callum, creepy Minton used to make out with his girlfriends on the mortuary slab.” “Well I can’t be perfect all of the time.” “At least some of it would be a start.” 70

“Women. You’re all the same. So bloody demanding.” Callum slammed his fist against on of the lockers for extra effect and stormed out. Morven shook her head as she took off her jacket and hung it in the locker. As she closed the locker she jumped and gasped, standing the other side was Haldane. She hadn’t heard him come in. “Sorry to startle you.” “No sir, you just caught me off guard.” Morven put a hand to her chest and tried to calm her breathing. “You all right?” Haldane peered at her over his glasses, as if looking at a sample in a microscope. “Fine, just a little fragile.” “I hope you’ll be all right for the next one we have in.” “Oh?” Morven could feel her breathing slow down. “Yes, a young girl, early twenties, multiple stab wounds. Found near a popular nightspot.” Morven could feel her heart rise into her throat. “You seem to have turned a funny colour, are you sure you’re all right?” Morven felt the cold metal of the locker press against her back, she needed it for support, her legs had nearly given way. “I’m fine honestly, I’ll just need a few minutes.” “We’ll be in the usual room, when you’re ready.” Haldane pushed his glasses back up his nose and left.

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Morven slowly slid down the locker until she sat on the floor. She held her head in her hands and tried to stop the tears from welling up. “It might not be her.” She tried to reason with herself. Who was she trying to kid? How many girls get stabbed to death behind a nightclub, even for this town the chances were pretty remote. She tried to compose herself, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She rose slowly to her feet, her legs felt a little wobbly, but they got her over to the sink. She leaned onto the sink as if her life depended on it. She stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes looked dark and hollow her face somehow thinner. She turned on the tap and splashed her face with cold water. It didn’t make her feel any better. She groped blindly for the towel dispenser. It was empty. Without opening her eyes she dried her face with her jumper. She opened her eyes and looked back in the mirror. She didn’t look any better. She quickly changed into her scrubs.

The walk to the mortuary seemed like an age. Morven stood outside watching Haldane stand over the pale body. She didn’t want

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to go in. What if it was the girl from her dream? What did it mean if it was? These questions Morven didn’t really want the answers to. She decided to bite the bullet and pushed through the door. “Glad to see you could join us at last.” Haldane looked up from the table. Morven bashfully looked at the floor. The body was draped in a pristine white sheet. Haldane slowly pulled back the sheet, from where Morven stood she could only see the face in profile, her legs went weak again, she could taste bile rising in her throat. She had to swallow hard to stop herself from vomiting. “A pretty girl.” Haldane peered at the body. Morven couldn’t bring herself to look at the body, she knew that it was the girl from the dream. “I’d like some close ups please.” Morven turned her back on the body and busied herself with the bulky camera. She worked slowly and methodically taking twice as long as she normally did, just so that she could delay the inevitable. “Preferably before lunch.” Haldane pulled the sheet completely off the body. Morven took a deep breath and turned to face the girl. Normally hiding behind the camera made things feel distant, made her feel removed from reality, from the horrific images she would photograph, but this time it felt even more real. Morven could feel her breathing quicken; she put the camera to her eye. Haldane was 73

talking, but she couldn’t hear him, she focused on the girl’s head. Her blonde hair falling from her face, resting on the table like a golden halo. Her crystal blue eyes stared up at the ceiling. Whoomph! The flash fired. The camera whined as the flash recharged. Morven focused in on her lips, they had turned silvery blue, but looked as if they were in the midst of asking a question. Haldane manhandled the girl, rolling her over. Morven bent down and took a picture of her back. Bruises where she had been pushed against the wall were obvious. Haldane rolled the body back. As Morven photographed the wounds her mind was flooded with images from her dream. She could see the girl’s face, her beauty suddenly frozen in the time as she seemed to be asking why. Try as she could Morven could not picture the face of the attacker; he was just a dark shadow, no discernible features at all, just a malevolent force. Morven could feel the girl’s terror, the panic and confusion. Her arms began to tremble; she couldn’t keep the camera still. She dropped the camera and ran; she didn’t know where she was going. She could hear Haldane shouting after her, but she didn’t stop. She skidded and slipped down the corridor, her little white wellingtons finding it difficult to grip on the highly polished floor. 74

She slammed into the fire exit doors, pushing the bar hard and the door swung open quickly. She stood at the top of a metal staircase on the outside of the building and slumped onto the top step. Her heart felt as if it was trying to escape from her chest. She wanted to close her eyes and disappear, but every time she did all she could see was the girl’s face staring back at her. Morven was more upset with herself than anything else, she’d always prided herself with being strong and not letting things get to her, but now she’d lost it big time. Haldane was going to crucify her. She wiped tears from her eyes, god she wished she wouldn’t cry. “You all right?” She turned round to see who the voice was. The winter sun shone strongly over his head, she couldn’t see his face. “I saw you running, I wondered if everything was okay?” Morven squinted up into the sun, putting her hand up to shield her eyes. All she could see was his dark hair and the outline of his strong shoulders. “If you want I’ll go?” “No it’s okay, I could do with the company.” Morven thought she saw him smile. He sat down next to Morven. She nervously stared at her feet; all she could see was her little white wellingtons. “God, I must look a sight.” She thought. 75

She played nervously with her fingers and then with her hair. “My name’s Samuel, but you can call me Sam, everybody else does.” He finally broke the nervous silence. “Morven.” She smiled back. “Ah the famous photographer.” “Is that good or bad?” “It’s good.” When he smiled his face creased up, making him look older than he was. He had dark brown eyes that Morven felt she was being drawn into. His nose was ever so slightly bent and his teeth were a perfect white. He had a slight tan that looked as if it was slowly fading and when he talked his voice was slow and confident. “So what were you running from?” “Just had to get out, you know what it’s like in there.” Sam nodded. “So how come you know I’m a photographer.” “I was at the Cardale, you probably won’t remember.” Morven tried to remember him, but couldn’t. She stared intently at his face hoping something might spark recognition. “It was only for a moment anyway.” Sam waved his hand dismissevly. Morven wondered how she could forget someone like him, she thought he looked stunning. “I thought it was a bit much when you came third.” “Third?” “Yeah, you should have seen the rubbish that won.” 76

Morven stared into his dark eyes and started fantasising about romantic walks and candlelit dinners. “Are you all right?” Sam broke her dream. “Sorry, I was miles away.” Morven spluttered, she could feel herself blushing. She smiled to hide her embarrassment. “You have a beautiful smile, you should do it more often.” Morven could feel herself blush even more, she let out a girlie giggle before she could stop it. Sam laughed as well. She felt thirteen again, behind the bikesheds with the most popular boy in school. “So where’d you learn photography?” “My Dad, he used to carry a camera with him almost everywhere, taking pictures of me and my sisters all the time. I just sort of carried on from there.” “So what made you want to take pictures of dead bodies?” “I dunno?” “It’s just a bit weird for a beautiful girl to want to do, that’s all.” Morven searched his face for a hint of sarcasm. “You have to admit it’s pretty morbid.” “At least they don’t answer back.” “Willing subjects, eh?” “They don’t have much choice in the matter.” “So it’s all about control then?”

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“Well no, not really.” Morven started to feel as if she was being cornered “You still have to respect them, it’s not as if I’m using them for artistic purposes. It’s just work.” “You ever wanted to?” “Wanted to what?” “You know.” Sam’s eyes seemed to light up “Pose them.” Morven screwed up her face in disgust, there was something about Sam that nagged at the back of her mind; she couldn’t work out what it was. “You been working on that girl they brought in this morning?” Morven nodded and looked at her feet, any doubts she had about Sam were pushed aside as the image of the girl came flooding back. She tried to fight it, but it wasn’t working. She tried to concentrate on Sam’s face, scrutinising his mouth, his eyes. “What do you see?” The question startled her, she thought for a moment he could see inside her head. “When you look at people, do you see something different?” “How’d you mean?” “Well, what makes one person a better subject than others? “You make it sound cold and clinical.” “Well it must be, to make you choose one over the other.” “It’s not often I get to choose. The choice is usually made for me, by circumstance or fate.” “You mean it just happens.” 78

“Most of the time, yeah. You can pose someone and get it just right, but more often than not there’s something in the background that ends up being more interesting.” “I get you. You can’t really control what happens, it just does and then you go with it.” “Kind of, yeah.” “It’s been a pleasure talking to you, maybe we could do it again?” “Yeah, sure.” Sam stood up and was again obscured by the sun. Morven watched him go, with a pang of guilt. She had a naturally suspicious mind and always thought the worst of people. “Morven?” A voice shouted her from inside the building; she recognised it instantly as Frank, her boss. She thought about hiding for a moment, but knew that she had to face the music at some point. “Morven?” Frank swung round the corner and into the daylight “Ah there you are.” Morven put on her best sympathetic smile as Frank waddled towards her. He’d had an accident a few years back that had left his left leg badly damaged; he should have walked with a stick, but always refused to use it. It gave him an almost robotic look as he swayed precariously from side to side as he walked. “I heard about your little…” He trailed off, he never was any good at the emotional stuff.

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“I’m sorry I just.” Morven stood up and faced him rather than putting him into the position of having to manoeuvre himself into place. “Happens to us all at some point.” Frank stared wistfully up at the sky and ran his hand through hair that was no longer there. “I just feel really stupid. Is Dr Haldane mad?” “He’ll have forgotten about it by Monday.” Frank fidgeted nervously. Morven watched him do a little dance as he shifted his weight from good foot to bad foot. “Look it’s the weekend tomorrow, there’s no point you hanging about here. Why don’t you just go home?” “You sure?” “Quick before I change my mind.” “You’re a diamond Frank.” Morven trotted past him. “Tell me about it.” Frank took one last look at the sky and turned back inside.

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“Sorry, I’m off home.” “Eh? It’s only just gone two.” “Frank’s sent me home early.” “Lucky get.” Morven carried on, sticking two fingers up to Callum as she disappeared into the locker room. The locker room was deserted; an almost eerie silence filled the room. Morven changed quickly, before anyone else came in and asked her to do something. She slammed her locker shut with a flourish and span her keys round her finger as if she was a sharp shooter. She bounded down the corridor and made for her car. It screeched out of its parking space as she made extra sure that nobody would catch her. She turned left at the main gates and into the traffic, only then did she relax.

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-CHAPTER SIX-

Her flat greeted her with open arms like an old friend. She felt instantly safe and cocooned when she closed the door. She entered the front room and was going to slump on the sofa, but the sight of all the empties from the night before made her feel guilty. She opened the window and started to clean up. The evening passed quickly and uneventfully, Morven spent most of it in front of the telly, engrossed in its goings on, a bomb could have gone off outside and she wouldn’t have noticed. Eventually she pulled herself off the sofa and dragged herself to bed. ☯

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The room was dark; Morven could hear hushed voices. She rubbed her eyes, but it made no difference, she could see no further than her hands. The voices continued to chatter. “She’s here. She’s here. She’s here.” They seemed to be saying over and over again. A small white light appeared in the distance, slowly coming closer and closer. Morven watched it approach until eventually she had to shield her eyes as it hovered above her. 82

Suddenly it started to dance about erratically then it swooped down on her like a bird of prey. She ducked out of the way, putting her hands up to protect herself. It swooped lower and lower until a blinding white light surrounded her. She clamped her eyes shut, the voices raised to an almost deafening crescendo. Then nothing. She cautiously opened her eyes. She was in a grand entrance hall; the black and white chessboard floor disappeared into the distance. The silence was absolute. She started to walk forward; her walking was easy and effortless. Instinctively she looked down at her feet; it was only then that she noticed she was floating a foot above the floor. She panicked slightly, but still she stayed there hovering. She took a couple of tentative steps, not once did she touch the floor. As she walked the walls of the entrance hall dissolved, now the chessboard floor disappeared into the distance in all directions. She span round, nothing but the floor was visible. She span again, she had no idea which way she was heading. She felt something brush against her back. She turned. Somebody walked past he. She tried to catch their attention, but they just kept on walking.

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Suddenly more and more people appeared, all of them ignoring her, all of them with their feet planted firmly on the ground. She shouted and shouted until she was hoarse, but nobody listened. They came closer and closer to her, bumping and pushing. She felt suffocated. They kept coming, more and more of them, nearly knocking her off her feet. She pushed against the crowd until a small channel appeared. Without a second thought she made a dash for it. Suddenly she was on her own again, the silence almost ringing in her ears. Before her was a line of doors, each one identical to the next. She pushed gingerly at one of the doors; it swung open with ease. She stood at the foot of a huge banqueting table groaning with all manner of exotic foods. At the other end of the table sat the tramp, eating ravenously at an obscenely large chicken leg. “Come in, come in.” He roared with a mouthful of chicken. He rose from his seat and made room for Morven, as he did so his wounds were plain to see. Vivid red and angry. Morven could see his heart pounding. “Won’t you join me?” He gestured to the chair. Morven sat nervously beside him. “It won’t all last forever.” The tramp tore another chunk from the chicken leg.

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Morven sat and watched him as he ate as if he was never going to eat again. The tramp looked up at Morven and saw she wasn’t eating. “Is it not to your liking?” Morven just stared as bits of chicken rolled about his mouth, a few bits spitting out. She couldn’t reply. “Is my food not good enough for you?” He pulled himself up from his seat; his face was as seething, red and angry as his wounds “Or is it my company? Is there something about my demeanour that offends you?” Morven tried to speak, but nothing came out. The tramp walked menacingly towards her. “Well speak up, it’s rude to stare.” Morven pushed herself as far back in the chair as she could go. The tramp kept coming; he could sense Morven’s fear. He grinned savagely. Morven stared straight at his blood red teeth. Her blood ran cold. She forced herself out of the chair and ran as fast as she could, slamming into the door. She pushed and shoved it, but it wouldn’t budge. She looked over her shoulder, panic flooding her body, but the tramp was nowhere to be seen. In fact she was in a completely different room. She stood in what was quite obviously a girl’s bedroom, all pink and fluffy. She cautiously took her hand off the door handle and looked round the room.

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It was decorated pink with lots of posters of pop bands and film stars on the wall. The shelves were crammed full with all sorts of trinkets. The bed was draped in pink and white sheets and covered in fluffy toys of all shapes and sizes. Morven was just about to pick one up when she noticed that amongst them was a young girl. She lay as if dead amongst the toys, her slight frame lost amongst the sheets. Her eyes flickered open and Morven knew instantly who she was. She could never forget a face, especially not that one. The girl smiled, Morven couldn’t help but smile back, the warmth in her face was incredible. “You came.” Morven wasn’t sure what the girl meant. “They said you would come.” Morven instinctively looked over her shoulder to see if there was anybody else present, but there wasn’t. “I thought you’d be older.” “Sorry, do you know me?” Morven finally asked. “We all do.” The girl lifted herself up onto her elbows and pushed away the bedcovers. She was still wearing her silvery dress, but it was stained red with blood. She looked down at herself, her face filled with embarrassment. Morven looked away. “Do I look that bad?” “No, it’s just…” 86

“I knew it, nobody will look at me now.” Tears welled up in the girl’s eyes. Morven was confused; she didn’t know what to do. She put her arm round the girl and tried to comfort her. “God you really are gullible.” The girl turned and smiled, her teeth dripped red with blood. ☯

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She flung the covers aside, her heart was racing, her pyjamas clung to her body with cold sweat. She staggered to the bathroom. Her legs gave way; she crumpled to the floor. Her stomach heaved. She retched. She dragged herself to the toilet and vomited violently. Spittle and mucus dribbled from her mouth and nose. She retched again and again until all that came were tears. Her body ached, she felt weak and drained. Her crumpled body clung to the toilet like it was the last safe place on earth. She felt drained and useless, as if somehow she’d been violated. She pulled herself up; her legs still felt weak. The taste in her mouth was hideous, an acidic burn in her throat. She took the toothpaste and toothbrush out of the glass that sat beside the sink. She filled the glass with cold water and gulped it down, filled the glass again and gulped it down. She wiped her mouth clean with the back of her hand.

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She looked at herself in the mirror, she looked awful. Her hair all over the place, her eyes tired and worn, little creases from where she slept crossed her cheeks. A little bit of snot dangled from her nose, she wiped it across her arm, nobody would know. Slowly she felt the strength returning to her legs, her stomach felt sore and empty. Deep trails ran down her face from dried tears. She turned on the tap and splashed water onto her face. The shock of its coldness made her gasp. She looked back in the mirror; she looked as if she’d aged ten years. The eyes that stared back at her were crazed with umpteen blood vessels, each one looking angry and ready to burst. When she closed her eyes she could feel the blessed tingle of relief, but she knew she couldn’t go back to sleep. She couldn’t risk the nightmares coming back; they were so vivid and clear, so real. She walked slowly and gingerly to the front room and sat on the sofa, in her pyjamas, hugging herself and waited for morning to come.

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-CHAPTER SEVEN-

The sun rose slowly above the hills in the distance, its rays slowly spreading life across the land. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The overnight frost began to melt. Quietly the town came to life; birds began to sing, dogs barked and the odd car engine started up. People started their weekend routine. Morven still sat on the sofa, staring at the photographs on the wall. None of the subjects looked back at her, they all looked past her or at something else. None of them had the answers. The alarm clock in the bedroom went off, it seemed to bring her out of her trance. She glanced around the front room; she was convinced she had some tidying up to do. She pulled herself up off the sofa and went from room to room looking for something to do, it was only then that it dawned on her she’d tidied up last night. As a last resort she slumped onto the sofa and turned on the telly. A Saturday morning kids programme screamed back at her, loads of hyperactive kids and even more hyperactive grown ups, dressed in trendy clothes trying desperately to look young, but just looking like clowns. The more she watched the more her head hurt. She couldn’t take it any more and turned the telly off. Her mind made up for her she opened up the equipment case and took out one of the cameras and a couple of lenses. She 89

rummaged about for some films and then went to get dressed, black as usual. She put the camera, lenses and film into her shoulder bag, put on her long overcoat and went out.

It was cold outside; Morven struggled with the buttons on her coat. Her fingers turning red and numb. Her shoulder bag kept slipping and getting in the way. She stopped and put the bag down and tried to use both hands on the buttons. Eventually she got the jacket fastened, she picked up the bag and slung it over her shoulder, only remembering the camera was in it when it clunked into her back and set her bruise on fire. The day was going well. She didn’t want to get angry, so she tried to control her anger by breathing in time with her footsteps. The sun disappeared behind a large grey cloud and the temperature dropped even further, Morven didn’t really know where she was heading, she crossed street after street, passing all sorts of people, but none of them appeared that interesting. Until she saw an old man looking in the window of a second hand bookstore. She stopped and quietly watched him for a moment; she reached into her bag and brought out the camera. 90

As she watched him through the viewfinder his face seemed to tell a thousand stories. Steam slowly whisped out of his mouth as he breathed. He brought his hand up and scratched his head under his hat. All the while she snapped away, the man moved away and the spell was broken. She carried on until she came to the railway arches, a huge old Victorian construction that carried the trains up and away from the town. Every twenty minutes a noise like thunder would emanate from above as the ground shook and windows rattled in the derelict warehouses across the road. Under one of the arches slept an old wino under a pile of newspapers, he was dressed all in brown, well it might have been different colours but the amount of dirt on them made them all look brown. Next to him were several carrier bags, containing his worldly possessions and clutched in his hand was the most precious of all, a nearly empty bottle of cheap whisky. Morven crept closer, trying to be as quiet as she could. She took a few pictures, but the whirring of the camera motor seemed to disturb the wino, he rolled and moaned. Morven took a step back. His eyes opened, but couldn’t focus. He didn’t even see her. She took a few more shots then she walked away. In the next archway were a couple of kids, couldn’t have been much older than fourteen. They both looked like skeletons. He sat with his back

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against the wall with his legs spread out in front of him; she lay across him with her head in his lap. Some tinfoil and a dirty needle lay beside them. His fingers played idly with her hair; she stared off into space. Morven took a few shots from a distance, then steadily she approached them. She kicked an empty beer can, which rattled and clanged, she paused waiting for a reaction, but neither of them moved. She came closer and took some more shots. The boy seemed to notice her, his rat like features momentarily signalled puzzlement, but his brain didn’t register. He played with the girl’s hair. Morven thought it was a childish, innocent action rather than anything malicious or sexual. The girl kept staring off into space. The film whirred to its end and Morven opened the back of the camera and reloaded, stashing the used film in her trouser pocket. “Whit y daen?” The boy spoke in a heavy Scottish accent. Morven looked at him, his skin was pale, almost grey, his hair greasy and mated and his eyes were dark and hollow. “I’m taking pictures. You don’t mind?” “Why’d y wannae dae tha?” “’Cos I think you two are interesting.” “Ah’ve been called many a thing, but ne’er tha.” The boy tried to laugh, but it soon turned into a convulsive cough. He wiped the spittle away from his mouth with the back of his hand. 92

“What’s your name?” “Ah’m Kenny. This is Sarah.” He looked down at the girl and then back at Morven “She’s sleepin.” “Do you mind if I take your picture?” “Naw it’s awright. Am Ah gonnie be famous noo?” “You never know.” Morven stifled a laugh. “Snap away then, snap away.” Kenny tried to puff out his chest. “Just try and be natural.” “Am’uhr.” “Don’t look at the camera.” Kenny followed her wherever she moved, whichever angle she took up Kenny looked straight at her. It didn’t look natural now. Sarah started to wake with all Kenny’s fidgeting. “Whit’s going oan?” She too had a Scottish accent, but not as harsh as Kenny’s. “Lassie’s takin oor photies.” A manic smile spread across Kenny’s face. “Whit?” Sarah’s face filled with confusion. Kenny nodded at Morven, Sarah followed his gaze. Her eyes took a moment to focus. Then as fast as lightning she sat bolt upright. Morven jumped, as the speed of her reaction shocked her, she put her hand back to catch he weight. She felt it land in something warm and soft. “Aaw shit!” Morven looked at her hand covered in shit.

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“Aye yir probably right, that’ll be wan of Squity’s.” Kenny giggled. “Squity?” “Aye, our dug. He’s had the shits ever since we found him so we called him Squity.” Morven looked around for something to wipe her hand on. “Use this.” Sarah produced a dirty piece of cloth from under a pile of rubbish. “Ta.” Morven washed her hand in a puddle and wiped them on the cloth. She studied her hand, occasionally sniffing it. “You get used tae it.” Sarah showed her dirty hands as if they were something to be proud of. “How old are you two anyway?” “Eighteen. How?” Kenny answered a little too quickly. “I was just asking.” Morven backed off, knowing full well they were much younger. “So why’d y take pictures?” Sarah decided it was her turn to ask questions. “It’s just something I like to do.” “Must cost a lot?” “Too much.” “Can Ah’ve a look at yir camera?” Morven had come across this before, if she handed it over they’d be off like a shot.

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“Ah promise Ah willnae steal it.” Sarah seemed to sense Morven’s apprehension “Look you can huv ma lighter, jist fir a while mind.” Sarah brought her prize possession out of her pocket, a silver lighter. She held it out to Morven. Morven wasn’t sure; she looked into Sarah’s eyes and could detect an almost childlike fascination. She handed over the camera, making sure the strap was within grabbing distance. Sarah dropped the lighter into Morven’s hand, it was a weighty thing with an inscription ‘To my love forever L’ Sarah played with the camera. “Can Ah take some pictures?” “Sure.” Sarah started to snap away at Kenny, he struck various poses. They began to giggle and laugh, playing like the kids they really were. Morven watched them and dug into her bag and pulled out a small compact camera she carried for emergencies and started taking shots of Kenny and Sarah as they played. They seemed oblivious to everything as they pranced about. After a while they finished the film, Morven made sure they didn’t see her taking pictures. “Films finished.” Sarah held the camera out to Morven. She took it and checked it over. Sarah still held her hand out and waved it insistently. Morven didn’t understand. “Lighter.” Sarah looked cross,

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“Sorry.” Morven picked up the lighter and handed it back “It’s a nice one, where’d you get it?” Sarah didn’t reply. She was too busy dusting off the lighter treating it as if it was the most precious object in the world. Then quickly she turned her back and stashed it where no one could see. “Did your Dad give you that?” Morven was curious. “Shut it about ma fuckin Dad awright! Ah never mentioned him awright. Did you Kenny? Ah bet y did, blabbin away while Ah wis asleep.” Sarah bared her teeth; her face turned bright red with anger as she forgot to breathe. “Ah didnae say a word.” Kenny threw up his hands defensively. “I was only asking.” Morven tried to calm things down. Sarah got up and sat in the corner against the wall, rocking gently back and forth. “She’s a wee bit touchy when it comes tae her auld man.” Morven looked across at Sarah, she couldn’t tell if she was crying or not. “Does she not get on with her Dad?” “It’s a bit maer complicated than tha.” “Are you saying he abused her?” “Look, Ah think it’s time you left.” Kenny gathered up his stuff and went over to Sarah. Morven looked over at them, Sarah was still rocking. Kenny put his arm protectively round her and glared back at Morven. She made sure she had all he equipment and decided to leave. 96

Morven came out of the archway; the weather had taken a turn for the worst. The clouds had darkened; the wind was cold and biting. Flakes of snow drilled into her face as she walked. She pulled her coat closed and folded her arms across her chest, hugging herself to try and keep warm. There was hardly anybody about, but those she did pass all walked in the same manner as her, slopped into the wind at nearly forty-five degrees, head down walking as fast as they could as the snow underfoot started to build up. Eventually she reached the safety of her flat; her hands shook as she struggled to put the key into the lock. Finally she got the key in, but she didn’t have any grip or strength to turn it. She cupped her hands up to her mouth and blew into them to try and keep them warm. It worked for a second, but then her hands turned red and sore. She shoved them deep into her jacket pocket and sighed with relief as her fingers tingled as the heat spread. She pulled them out and blew on them again. This time she forced her shoulder against the door, using it as leverage. Finally it turned. She pushed the door open and stepped inside the hallway. She brushed herself down; her own miniature snow shower left a puddle at her feet. “Is it snowing?” Mrs Slater from the ground floor flat stuck her head out of her door as Morven passed. “Yeah.” Morven tried to head up the stairs. 97

“My Eddie used to love the snow.” Mrs Slater took every opportunity she could get to talk about her husband, who’d run away with his secretary about five years ago. Morven felt trapped, she knew she could be stuck here for hours. “He used to spend hours making snowmen with the kids, you should’ve seen their faces. Beaming they were. My Eddie had that sort of effect on people. They used to love him, and he loved them. Not in that way mind, as a father figure. They all looked up to him.” Morven could see the front door to her flat, but it felt as if it was miles away. She could feel her will to live fading away. “You never met Eddie did you? You’d have loved him. I think he’d like you. Good with his hands you know. Anything you needed doing round the house he’d sort it. My shelves in the kitchen, he put them up nearly twenty years ago. Still as good as the day he put them up.” Morven looked about for a means of escape, but nothing presented itself. “This door, he put that up and all.” She started swinging the door back and forth, rapping it with her knuckles “Painting, he was good at that as well. Only trouble was he’s colour-blind, some of the colours clash, but I got used to it.” Morven had given up listening long ago, but she now had a picture in her mind of Mrs Slater sitting in her front room with its

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multicoloured décor. Maybe Mr Slater wasn’t colour-blind; maybe it was his act of revenge before he left her? Suddenly salvation. Morven could hear her phone ringing inside her flat. At first she waited for a pause for breathe, but Mrs Slater didn’t seem to be taking one. “That’s my phone, better be going.” Morven just blurted out and ran up the stairs. She struggled with her keys, and just as she opened the door the phone stopped ringing. “Bugger.” She dropped her bag onto the sofa. She picked up the phone and dialled 1471; the recorded voice told her that the caller had withheld their number. As she hung up her coat she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, she looked like a drowned rat. Her hair was soaking and what little make up she had on had started to run. She went to the bathroom and ran a bath, pouring masses of bubble bath into the water. The steam started to fill the room, she felt cosy. She undressed, throwing her clothes into the corner, not caring how they landed. The bath reached its required level and she turned off the taps. She climbed over the edge of the bath, gently dipping her foot into the water. Perfect.

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She slowly lowered herself into the bath, the water smoothing over her body washing her worries away. She leaned her head back and stretched out. She felt herself almost completely relaxed. She took a deep breath and slid under the water, she floated as the whole world went quiet. Thoughts washed over her as well as the water, her work, her photographs, Charlie, even her ex-boyfriends and for some reason Spuggy, a Jack Russell terrier that she had when she was ten years old. She came back up for air; gasping out loud she filled her lungs full and brushed her hair out of her eyes. She sat in the bath for a few moments until she noticed that the phone was ringing again. She hauled herself out of the bath and quickly wrapped a towel round herself. She raced to the front room and picked up the phone. “Hello?” She gasped. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get you all day.” The voice of Morven’s mother cut through her muddled mind. “Nowhere.” Morven’s mother had a knack for making her feel as if she was a child. “It’s your father.” Morven stopped breathing, her family never usually phoned her, but to hear words like that.

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“Hello? Morven are you still there?” Her voice broke through the silence like a razor. “Yeah?” She croaked, just able to squeeze the words out. “He’s had a stroke.” Morven was amazed at how matter of fact she was, no dillydallying, no pussyfooting around just straight in there like a sledgehammer. “Is it bad?” “I think you should come and see him.” All sorts of thoughts raced through Morven’s mind, not one of them good. “It’s bad isn’t it? You can tell me.” “He wants to see you face to face.” “I’ll make arrangements.” Was all she could think to say. Her mind was a blank; it took a few moments for her to hear the dialling tone buzzing in her ear. She dropped the phone as if it had burned her, it clattered on the floor dancing and dangling at the end of its wire. She tried to move to the sofa, but her legs wouldn’t work. She slumped to the floor and held herself, she wanted to cry, but no tears were coming. She felt anger towards her mother. How could she take it all so calmly? How could she just tell her in a phonecall? It was her fucking father. Morven thumped the wall in frustration, her hand hurt like hell. She felt stupid for being angry. She started to cry. 101

-CHAPTER EIGHT-

The tears must’ve lasted a good hour before she pulled herself together. She looked at the phone’s receiver lying on the floor like a discarded toy. She picked it up, straightened out the wire and placed it gently on the cradle. She knew she had phonecalls to make, but it was the weekend Frank wouldn’t be there. She’d leave a message, he’d understand. Charlie’s photos would have to wait; she’d phone him when she reached her parents. She busied herself about the flat packing an overnight bag. She didn’t know how long she’d be so she packed enough for a few days. Out of sheer habit she packed her camera and a few rolls of films, she stuffed a few other things in her shoulder bag, book, sunglasses, walkman and a few tapes. When she was finished she looked at the two bags lying in the hallway next to the front door, she was surprised at how little stuff she needed. Her father was ill, possibly dying, and all she had was a couple of bags of things. For some reason she felt ashamed, she thought that maybe her life should have amounted to more than this. She went round the flat once more, making sure she’d switched everything off.

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She threw her bags into the back seat of the car and climbed in the front. She started the car, turned on the music and started the long journey north to her parents.

Motorway driving was mindnumbing, doing the same thing again and again. The scenery never seeming to change. Four hours into the journey and Morven found herself starting to fall asleep. Her head felt heavy and her eyelids were leaden. A signpost flashed by, one mile to motorway services. She was relieved she now had a goal. She turned up the music and tried to sing along. Her weariness started to lift as she saw the sliproad for the service station. She indicated and headed off up the sliproad. The sliproad rose and swung sharply up a hill and opened out into a vast carpark. Darkness was beginning to fall and lots of families were climbing into their cars starting the final leg of their journey. Morven watched as bored children seemed to take great delight in driving their parents round the bend. Morven could remember many such journeys her sisters and her parents had taken. ☯

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“Will you shut up!” Morven’s mother turned round and glared at Morven and her two elder sisters Karen and Audrey, her eyes bulged and the veins on her neck looked as if they were about to burst. “She started it.” Karen nudged Morven in the ribs. “Did not.” Morven retorted. “Did too.” Karen swung at Morven, she ducked and the blow hit Audrey. “Mum, Karen hit me.” Audrey whined. “Shut up!” Morven’s mother screamed, her face burned red with anger. “It wasn’t me.” Karen moaned. “Morven, if I have to tell you one more time.” Morven folded her arms and huffed, she caught her father looking at her in the car’s rear-view mirror, he winked and smiled. She hid her own smile behind her hand so that her mother wouldn’t see. Morven sat in the middle of the back seat of the car, her sisters Audrey and Karen either side of her. Her mother tried to apply her lipstick as she used the mirror in the sunvisor. “Dad, are we nearly there yet?” Audrey whined. “Not long now pumpkin.” Their father had a soft calming voice with a hint of an Eastern European accent. Audrey was the eldest, she was intelligent and bookish, Karen called her a swot. Karen was three years younger; she was much

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more rebellious. There was a gap of about ten years between Morven and Karen; she was much more of a Daddy’s girl. Karen lashed out, hitting Morven’s elbow. “Ow!” Morven cried out. “Morven!” Her mother turned and glared. “It wasn’t me.” Morven fought back the tears “It was Karen.” Their mother tutted and shook her head, she went back to putting on her lipstick. “You’re a clipe.” Karen whispered in Morven’s ear. Morven tried to ignore Karen by staring out of the front window, watching the windscreen wipers sweep away the rain. Karen grabbed Morven’s arm and started to give her a Chinese burn. “Ow!” Morven cried out again. Her mother turned round, her face looked as it was going to explode. She swung hard and fast, smacking Morven across her knees. Morven clenched her teeth until they hurt, trying to hold back the tears. She could hear Karen sniggering to herself. “Does anyone know any good songs?” Her Dad interrupted cheerily “I know, how about ten green bottles?” “Aaw Dad.” Audrey and Karen both whined as their father started to sing. “What? You don’t like my singing?” All of them laughed, sounding like a family for once, rather than all out war. 105

“Are we nearly there yet?” Audrey broke the spell. “Won’t be long.” Their father replied. “If one of them says that one more time.” Their mother whispered through gritted teeth, which she pretended was a smile. Audrey and Karen looked out of their windows; Morven sitting in between them on the back seat of the car could only look forward. “You’re too soft on them Luca.” Morven could hear her mother say. “Of course I am, they’re my girls.” He looked at her as if she was insane. “They’ll be the death of you.” Her voice sounded bitter and angry. “If I can’t spoil them, who will?” He turned and smiled at Morven. For a split second Morven felt like she was the centre of the universe, then she heard her mother snort and she was brought back to earth with a bump. “We’re here now.” Her father cried. “Is this it?” Audrey and Karen both chimed as they looked out of the rain soaked car windows at a grey stretch of water and a couple of trees that looked as if they’d seen better days. “What do you mean is this it?” Their father waved his hands in an all-encompassing arc “Can you not see it? The beauty, the colour, the life.” “It looks grey and wet.” Audrey mumbled. 106

“Mum, have you got anything to eat? I’m hungry.” Karen whined. Their mother reached into a carrier bag and brought out a roll for each of them, carefully wrapped in clingfilm. “Euch! Mines got tomato, I hate tomato.” Karen wound down her window and threw her roll outside. Morven could see her mother ready to explode. “Come on then, time to go home.” Luca put her hand on her knee to calm her down and then turned the car round and they headed back the way they came. ☯

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“Ah memories.” Morven sighed as she got out of the car and walked towards the hideously designed 1970's concrete block that greeted the weary traveller. The automatic doors swished open, light and sound bombarded Morven. An array of video game machines where people could pretend to drive a car that could legitimately crash into every single car on the road, or outrun the police by driving at over two hundred miles an hour. Just what you need to relax yourself before you set off up the road with your family. Morven entered the cafeteria. It was nearly deserted. A few lost souls were doted about at various tables.

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Morven collected a tray and tried to choose between the overpriced delicacies, would it be the stale bread sandwich that curled beautifully up at the edges, or would it be the overcooked stodgy shepherds pie? Oh the choice was endless. She plumped for yoghurt, some crisps, a can of coke and a couple of chocolate bars. Each of them in sealed packets so surely nothing could be wrong with them. She pushed her tray along to the cash register; the young girl was half asleep, lost in her own fantasy world. Morven stood for a moment, but the girl didn’t register her presence. She rattled her tray, nothing. She coughed, still nothing. She picked up the cold can and placed it against the girl’s cheek. “Oi wot you doing?” The girl jumped. Morven said nothing she just pushed her tray in front of the girl. As she rang the stuff through the till she managed to look depressed, angry and insolent all at the same time. “Four twenty.” The girl stared up at Morven, with her hand out and chewing vigorously on some gum. “What?” “Four twenty.” The girl repeated. Morven looked at what she’d bought; surely it couldn’t be that much? The girl held out her hand further and continued to chew. Morven reached into her pocket and managed to rustle it up in small

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change. She dropped the coins into the girl’s hand, some of them falling onto the floor. “Oops.” Morven smiled sarcastically, picked up her tray and walked over to a table near the window. She could see the girl staring at her from her till, Morven just smiled and waved. Eventually the girl got off her seat and picked up the money. As she did so her boss, a fat lady in an ill fitting uniform, came over and reprimanded her for leaving her post. Morven couldn’t help but laugh. She looked out of the window and surveyed the view from her lofty vantagepoint. It was now nearly pitch black outside, the lights of the motorway below made it look like an airport runway. The occasional car that shot past was just a blur of light, one second there the next disappearing into the distance. Morven opened her yoghurt and started to slowly eat, she stared off into space and idly toyed with the yoghurt. “Penny for them?” Morven looked up, a small middle aged lady, who went from table to table wiping them clean, smiled back. “Sorry?” Morven scratched her head. “You were miles away love.” “Things on my mind and that, y’know.” “A problem shared is a problem halved.” The lady slid into the seat across from Morven. “No it’s all right, honest.” Morven felt a little uneasy.

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“Look I know what you’re thinking, who the hell’s this mad woman who’s decided to interrupt my peace, I’d feel exactly the same. I’m right aren’t I?” “Something like that.” Morven mumbled, wishing the ground would open up and swallow the lady whole. “If you want me to go I’ll go, but hear me out.” She paused for effect “Your life is going to be turned upside down.” “Sorry, what?” “Things have been set in motion that will change your life forever.” “What are you talking about? How do you know all this?” “It’s obvious from just looking at you love.” Morven tried to look for any sinister motive in the lady’s face, but could find nothing. “Who are you?” “I’m nobody love, I just work here.” The lady moved on, wiping table after table. Morven was bemused. Was she displaying signs? Maybe it was her father she was on about, or maybe she knew about the dreams? Then again maybe she just knew a guilty person when she saw one. Morven looked up and tried to find the lady, but she was nowhere to be seen. She stood and stuffed the crisps and chocolate bars into her pockets, she left the yoghurt half eaten with the spoon still in it. 110

She didn’t want to ask the girl on the till, whose eyes still followed her, drawing daggers wherever she went. The only other member of staff to be seen was a young boy mopping the floor, whose face looked like a half eaten pizza. “The woman who cleans the tables?” Morven asked him. “Uuugh?” “Do you know where she is, the woman who cleans the tables?” “Uuugh?” Pizza face scratched himself under his cap, revealing unbelievably greasy hair. “I am looking for the woman that cleans the tables.” Morven spoke very slowly as if to a two year old. “Uuugh?” The boy looked at her as if she was an alien. “Clean?” Morven pointed at the tables, mimicking cleaning. The boy nodded and walked over to the tables and started cleaning round them. Morven resisted the urge to run after him and strangle him. She gave up on trying to find the lady; instead she ran the gauntlet of the arcade machines and the fluorescent lighting. She was glad when she made it through the front doors and the manic noise subsided to be replaced by the almost therapeutic whoosh of the odd car as it passed by on the motorway. She climbed into her car and closed the door, everything felt quite relaxed. She sat for a moment. It was too quiet. She turned the key in the ignition, a few lights came on on the dash and the stereo kicked into life ‘If You’re Feeling Sinister’ by Belle and 111

Sebastian came wafting out of the speakers. She tapped the steering wheel in time with the tune, she felt relaxed all ready. She listened to the tune all the way through then ‘Echo Beach’ by Martha and The Muffins came on and straight away she was back in her childhood. She started the car and drove off, hitting the motorway and reaching full speed, singing at the top of her lungs all the way.

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-CHAPTER NINE-

She could see the lights of her hometown from a distance, the motorway ran right past it as if it didn’t even exist. She took the sliproad off, about the only one without a signpost on the entire motorway, and headed towards town. The road into town came down from on high, sweeping into the main street and onwards into the distance as if it was desperate for visitors not to stop. Morven pulled the car into the side of the road at the top of the hill. She could see all the streets lit up, she knew almost everyone of them like the back of her hand. The road to the swimming pool, the high street, the back of the timber merchants, that held particular significance in her formative years and of course the road that led to her parents house. Not a thing seemed to move. It didn’t look like it had changed. Morven climbed back inside the car. She longed to see her father, but there was part of her that couldn’t bear to return to the town of her childhood. Rannoch was one of those towns where everybody knew everybody else and no one can have any secrets. Morven looked up at the sky through the windscreen; the stars were clearly visible, peaceful and serene.

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The clock on the dash read four thirty am, she couldn’t face the family now. She didn’t have the strength. She pulled the old tartan rug off the backseat and draped it over herself; she pushed the chair back and watched the stars through the sunroof. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep.

The car shook violently from side to side as a white transit van sped past. Morven woke with a start, sitting bolt upright. “Oh God” She groaned, her back was as stiff as a board. She gingerly stepped out of the car and stretched her legs, her whole body ached. She caught sight of her reflection in the car window; her hair was all over the place and her eyes were heavily bloodshot. She pulled her hair back and retied it with her scrunchie. The town didn’t look any different in the daylight. She couldn’t put it off any longer; she climbed back into the car, fixed the seat back into the upright position and drove into town. The place felt like a ghost town, no cars were about, the people were few and far between. Morven almost expected tumbleweed to blow past at any moment. She avoided the high street, there were people there she didn’t want to see, not yet anyway, and took the back road. 114

She turned into the street her mother’s house was on, every single one had the same manicured lawn. The same garden fence, and yet somehow her mother’s house looked bigger, more ostentatious and more opposing. She felt like she was walking up to Bates Motel as she parked the car in the street and walked up the drive. She stood in front of the door and took a final deep breath and pressed the doorbell, a disgusting electronic tune played out, it sounded like no tune she’d ever heard. She took a step back as the tune finished; she waited in trepidation as she could see the blurred shape of a figure coming towards the door through the frosted glass. She could hear the chain being pulled across. The door creaked open; she could only see one eye and a hint of blonde hair. “Hi mum, it’s me.” Morven spoke to the single staring eye. The door closed then moments later swung wide open, Morven’s mother stood unsmiling in a pair of jogging trousers, a lycra vest top and a sweatshirt draped over her shoulders. She glistened slightly as if she’d been exercising. “You took your time.” She stood against the wall allowing Morven to walk in. “I had things to arrange, I came as fast as I could.” Morven felt she had to explain. Morven’s mother sniffed in disgust, not believing a word she said. 115

“I have a life as well you know.” Morven snapped before she could stop herself. “That’s you all over isn’t it, self, self, self.” Morven’s mother slammed the front door shut and marched into the living room. Morven stood, her face flushed with anger, she clenched her teeth until her jaw ached. Her mother always did this to her, she could never do anything good enough. Morven let out a growl and dropped her bags at the bottom of the stairs. She followed her mother into the living room. The living room was just how she remembered it; all bright and flowery, except in the middle of the floor was a large exercise bike. Morven’s mother sat astride the bike, pedalling away like mad, her face red and stretched. Neither said a word. Morven looked at all the pictures crammed into every available space. Her father had always been a keen photographer; it was him that had given her the bug. There were lots of pictures of Audrey and Karen; she had to hunt to find her favourite one. Eventually she found it, hidden behind Audrey’s graduation portrait. Her and her father at the seaside, Morven must have been about ten or twelve. Both of them were kneeling down, Morven had a small crab in the palm of her hand, her father had one arm round her and he was pointing at the crab, explaining it to her.

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Morven had never really thought about who had taken the picture, until now. It couldn’t have been her mother; she used to always refuse the camera, saying that she never understood how to use it. Her pictures were always crap, the heads cut off or a shot of the floor. Morven could remember her father teasing her mother endlessly “How could someone who knew so much about art and style be so completely useless at it?” It used to drive him mad when she would come home with another pile of magazines, that claimed to tell everything that was in and everything that was out. “I’m just a poor Polish worker, I’m not made of money.” He used to always moan, and then he would turn and pull a face at his girls to show he was only teasing. Her mother, who would never see this part of course, would believe he was being completely serious. It would be hours before she would talk to him again. His quiet time he used to call it. “I’ve just cleaned those.” Morven felt her mother peering over her shoulder. She quickly put the picture back, but this time in front of the graduation picture. Morven just smiled at her mother and sat down on the sofa. “So how is Dad?” Morven’s mother looked at her as if she’d just spouted a tirade of expletives, it was as if a mask had slipped and she’d momentarily

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exposed her true self. Her face looked old and haggard, her make up patchy. Her mouth quivered, she looked as if she was about to cry. Morven stood up and held out her arms about to hug her, but she turned and ran out of the room. Morven stood alone in the room filled with family memories feeling empty and cold inside. She wanted to run after her mother and comfort her, hug her and tell her everything would be all right, but she knew what would happen. It was what always happened when her mother had to deal with emotions. She would retreat, clam up and then she would lash out, hurting anything within reach. Morven had many strong memories of her mother’s temper. Like the time she was locked in the cupboard under the stairs for what seemed like an eternity. Sitting in the complete darkness hugging her knees and hoping that spiders didn’t bite. All because she’d muddied her new dress in the back garden. That was her getting off lightly, there were times when things were thrown at her just because she’d answered back. Morven thought it was all because she was much younger than her two elder sisters, there was nearly ten years between her and Karen, and Audrey was another three years older. Her mother had often referred to her as a mistake; her father called her his little angel. She’d left home as soon as she could, there was only so much a person could take. Now being back brought all the memories flooding back.

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Morven must have been ten, Karen nearly twenty, Audrey twenty two. Audrey was using Morven as a little doll, helping her put on make up, dressing her up. They could hear their mother coming up the stairs. “We’ll show Mummy how nice you look.” Audrey whispered to her. Morven climbed down off the stool at the dressing table and brushed herself down. Audrey brushed her hair one more time. Karen lay on her stomach reading a magazine, completely disinterested. The bedroom door opened and their mother stood, eyes bulging, face burning. “Doesn’t she look like a big girl now.” Audrey said somewhat patronisingly. Morven wished the ground would swallow her up, she knew what was coming next. Her mother rushed forward and grabbed Morven by the shoulder; she pulled her out of the room. Morven’s legs didn’t want to work, her feet tripped over each other, she lost her balance and plunged to the floor. She didn’t have time to put her hands out, her head cracked onto the floor, she could taste blood in her mouth.

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She picked herself up and ran to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She could hear her mother shouting and ranting at Audrey and Karen through the wall. She checked her reflection in the mirror, her mouth was red and sore and one of her front teeth was broken. ☯

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Morven’s mother came back into the living room, dabbing at her eyes with a small tissue. “Sorry.” She croaked. Morven just shrugged her shoulders. They both sat down on seats facing each other. Morven stared at the floor and fidgeted with her hands, her mother continued to dab at her eyes with the tissue. The silence was painful, but neither of them could bring themselves to speak. A key being put in the front door and it opening rescued them. They could hear the rustling of carrier bags. “That’s me back with the messages Mum.” Morven recognised the voice instantly. She jumped up from the seat and ran to the hallway. “Karen!” She screamed and ran forward and hugged her sister. “You came.” “Mum called us.” 120

“Let’s take a look at you.” They both took a step back and admired each other. Morven had always considered Karen the attractive one; she had long since dyed her hair blonde. At first Morven had thought it looked odd with her dark eyebrows and deep brown eyes, but now it made her look twice as attractive. Morven felt scruffy and unwashed in he presence. Karen always dressed elegantly; even when she was dressing down she still managed to look good. “You look bloody gorgeous.” Morven laughed. “You’re looking good, hospital can’t be that bad.” Karen realised what she had said and looked over Morven’s shoulder to see if their mother had heard. Morven turned to look as well. “Me and my big mouth.” Karen smiled. “Don’t worry about it.” “But I do.” “You know Mum she’s like an elephant, thick skinned.” “Aye and never forgets.” They both laughed. It felt like old times. “Does Dad know you’re here?” “Not yet no.” “Tell you what, I’ll make us something to eat and then we can go and see him together.” “Is he bad?” 121

“Looks worse that it is. He’s not lost his speech, but he’s paralysed down his left side.” “Is that good or bad?” “Christ knows, you know doctors. They could be telling me anything. I just acted dumb and nodded.” “But he is all right?” “You know Dad, he’s pestering the nurses already.” Morven laughed, but she wasn’t quite sure why. Karen picked up her carrier bags and went to the kitchen. She started emptying the bags, putting everything into their appropriate cupboard. Morven stood in the doorway watching her. Every time she put anything away her mother would open the cupboard take it out and put it in another cupboard. Morven could see it was driving Karen mad, she was impressed at how she managed to bite her tongue. “How about I take us out to dinner? Just the two of us. It’ll get us out of the house.” Morven asked after they’d finished. Karen looked across at her mother, who was pretending that neither of them existed. “I’ll pay.” “All right then.” Karen didn’t need asking twice. “Morven could see her mother glare at them both behind Karen’s back. Karen didn’t notice, but Morven smiled back sarcastically as they left the house.

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-CHAPTER TEN-

They both sat in The Orchard Grove, the only restaurant in Rannoch, that is if you didn’t include Billy’s Burger Van that sat in the lay by just out of town hoping to catch any unsuspecting lorry driver that happened to stop. Morven was convinced the place still had the same décor from when she worked there one summer, well one week to be exact. She got the sack after she’d poured soup over a guy that had pinched her bum. The walls were covered with dark red wallpaper dotted with the occasional golden flower. The carpet was a dark indeterminable colour, probably caused by the amount of food that had been spilt on it over the years. As for the tables, the least said the better, let’s just say they were functional. “This place hasn’t changed.” Morven whispered to Karen. “I don’t know why I still come here.” “Did you never want to leave this place? I mean, even Audrey did in the end.” “Oh aye, when I was younger I had all sorts of dreams. I was going to go out into the big wide world and make my fortune.” “So what happened?” “You know what happened.” “Not the full story.” “You mean Mum never told you?” 123

“You know Mum and me, she hardly ever talks to me unless she really has to.” “Families eh, there a wonderful thing.” Karen laughed sarcastically. “Aye right.” Morven sniffed. They were interrupted as a middle-aged waitress came and took their order, Morven had soup for old time’s sake, and Karen ordered a salad. “So what happened?” Morven waited until the waitress was out of earshot. “You remember Murdo?” Morven looked puzzled. “The big lad I used to go out with? You were very young.” “Was he the one with the motorbike?” “Aye that’s the one.” “I didn’t know his name was Murdo, he was a bit of all right.” “Too right.” Karen grinned. “You dirty sod, you didn’t did you?” “Well that’s the whole point, we only did it once.” “But you were only about fourteen fifteen “ “I was young and stupid. I foolishly thought love was forever.” “He did a runner then, what’s the big deal about that?” “Just after he found out I was pregnant.” “What, you were pregnant?” Morven was aghast, her jaw nearly hit the floor. 124

“Shoosh.” Karen looked around her; nobody was paying them any attention. “I… I never knew.” Morven stuttered. “Not many did. Mum found out of course.” “I bet she went ballistic.” “That’s an understatement. She made us hush everything up; I was to tell people I was going away for a couple of weeks to visit an aunt. She stayed here holding the fort, playing the perfect martyr. Meanwhile I came back minus baby and we all tried to pretend as if nothing had happened.” “You had an abortion?” “No, you know what Mum’s like she’d never have allowed that. I gave it away or should I say I was made to give it away. Some couple in Glasgow.” “Why’d you call it it?” “I’ve no idea whether it was a boy or a girl. They took it off me that quick, I never saw, and nobody ever told me.” “Christ, that must’ve been awful.” “It was. I don’t really know if any of us coped with it, life just sort of carried on.” “And Dad he was happy to go along with it?” “Well that’s probably the worst part. He doesn’t know. The most traumatic thing in my life and I can’t even talk to him about it.” Tears started to well up in Karen’s eyes.

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The waitress came over with their meals; Karen hurriedly wiped her face with a tissue. Morven slid her spoon into the soup and pushed it around, something moved under the surface. She didn’t dare imagine what. When she tasted it there was a bland almost bitter taste; it didn’t taste of any other soup she’d ever tried. It was just how she remembered it. “Do you ever think about it?” “About what?” “The baby, do you ever wonder what happened to it? What it might be doing now?” “Nearly every day.” “God, how do you cope with that?” “I just let it fester, you know like a scab, picking away at it until it bursts.” “That paints a pretty picture.” “Well, you’re not the only one who has a grudge against Mum.” “Parents eh? Who’d have ‘em.” Morven sniggered. “It’s good to talk to you about these things, I haven’t had a good natter to somebody for ages.” Karen balanced a piece of lettuce on her fork. “I’m your sister, it’s what I’m here for.” “I’ve missed you Morven.” Karen reached across and put her hand on Morven’s. “Stop it, you’ll have me blubbing next.” Morven laughed. 126

“I mean it Morven, we thought you weren’t going to show up.” “Sorry?” Morven was confused. “Well it has been two weeks since Dad took ill.” “TWO WEEKS!” Morven nearly choked on her soup. “Yeah, Mum phoned everybody when it happened. We thought you’d disowned us.” “But she only phoned me the other night.” Morven dropped her spoon with a clatter. Karen looked around her, hoping nobody was listening. “The fucking bitch waited two weeks to call me!” Morven spat. The other diners turned to see what the commotion was. Karen turned red with embarrassment; she reached into her purse and put a few notes onto the table. She stood up and led Morven out by the arm. “Two weeks.” Morven leaned against the wall outside the restaurant. “But you’re here now, that’s the main thing.” Karen tried to calm Morven down. “But two whole weeks, how the fuck could she do that?” “I really don’t know, she told us she’d phoned you.” “I knew she was screwed up, but Jesus that takes the biscuit.” “She must’ve had her reasons.” “Aye, I suppose in her fucked up little mind it’d be best if her little mistake was nowhere to be seen and she could play the part of nursie to her ailing husband.” 127

“That’s a bit harsh.” “It’s all right for you, at least she actually likes you.” “I’m sure she loves you just as much.” “Aye? Well she’s got a damn funny way of showing it.” Morven pushed herself off the wall and stomped off down the road. Karen shook her head and followed after her.

Rannoch Hospital was tiny compared to the one that Morven worked at. It was a 1960’s glass and wood panelling building, from the outside it looked a bit like a school. Karen led the way as they walked down the corridor. Karen’s shoes clicked away, while Morven’s squeaked quietly. The smell of a hospital filled Morven’s nostrils, the unmistakable stench of disinfectant and bleach. A few nurses walked past them, paying them no attention, their heavily starched uniforms swishing and swaying as they went. Karen stopped at the entrance to the ward, Morven peered round. There were ten beds; each of them occupied by a frail old person. Some of the beds had family members perched on seats, looking uncomfortable and trying desperately to make small talk. “Which one’s Dad?” Morven whispered.

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Karen walked into the ward; Morven followed her until they stopped at one of the beds. Morven looked at Karen and then at the figure in the bed. This couldn’t be her Dad; he was frail and grey. Her Dad had always looked so strong and alive. His eyes flickered open. It took a moment for his eyes to focus, then a smile slowly spread across his face. “Dad?” Morven came closer. “My little angle.” He croaked. Karen poured him a glass of water and put it to his lips. He drank slowly, colour returning to his face. “How are you?” Morven sat in the seat next to the bed and pulled it close. “Stupid question, how do you think I am?” He tried to laugh, but only succeeded in coughing. Karen held the glass to his lips and he drank ravenously. “I wish it was something stronger.” He smiled at Karen, who looked at him sternly. “They treating you well?” Morven could only think of small talk. “Like a king, eh Dad?” Their father just lay there staring at Morven. Morven stared back. “I’ll get some coffee.” Karen stood up and left them to it. “You’re looking good.” Morven’s father broke the silence.

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“Wish I could say the same for you.” Morven relaxed as her father smiled back at her. “You must be busy, eh? I thought you weren’t going to come.” “Aye well. That wasn’t my fault.” Morven looked everywhere but at her father. “Up to her little games again?” Morven bit her tongue. “Still, you came. That’s all that matters.” “How could I stay away.” “Nice of you to say it, even if you didn’t mean it.” “You know I’d come running as soon as I heard.” “That’s my little angel.” “I haven’t been called that in ages.” “Still nobody special then?” “Could be.” “Sounds interesting.” “Well I’ve only met him once, but we seemed to hit it off.” “Wedding bells soon then?” “Dad.” Morven blushed “Enough about me, what about you? Have they said what’s wrong with you?” “I know what’s wrong with me. My body’s knackered; it’s all falling apart. It’s only a matter of time.” “Don’t talk like that.” He stared off at the ceiling, suddenly a million miles away.

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Morven looked at him, his frail face peaking out from under the covers. He looked as if he had far less hair and it was grey and not the thick black hair that she remembered. The way he would spend hours slicking it back with grease. Even his eyes looked paler, less vibrant. His body seemed to cause only a slight disturbance under the covers, as if he hardly existed. “Still take pictures?” His voice sounded strong, more like his old self. “Yeah, I’ve got some film with me. Still need to get them developed though, I’ll let you see them next time.” “I’d like that.” He smiled. Morven was sure his old sparkle came back to his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if you took sugar.” Karen came back carrying a couple of cups of coffee from one of the many machines. “That’s fine.” Morven took one of the cups and took a sip. It tasted revolting, but she didn’t want to say. “Mum said she’d be up tomorrow.” “That’ll be fun.” Their father rolled his eyes to the heavens. They both tried not to laugh. “You’d better not let her hear you talk like that.” Karen smiled. “Why not, you know she doesn’t listen anyway.” Morven nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee. “You can’t say that.” Morven gasped after she’d wiped her face. “What, and let you lot have all the fun?” Their father smiled broadly. 131

“I hope your visitors aren’t getting you over excited Mr Zubiski?” A young nurse stood at the foot of the bed. “You’re the only one who gets me excited.” He winked at the nurse. “Dad.” Karen moaned out of the side of her mouth. The nurse just smiled back. “Will you no run away with me Cathy?” He put on a strange Scottish accent. Morven and Karen both cringed with embarrassment. The nurse didn’t seem to notice she continued to take various different pills out of her trolley and placed them on a small tray. “You know what time it is?” The nurse smiled as she got her own back. Their father’s face fell as the nurse approached. “We’d best be going.” Karen spoke nervously and stood up. She looked across at Morven for moral support. “I’ll be back later with some pictures.” Morven leaned forward and kissed her father on the forehead. “You do that angel.” He smiled back at her. Morven stood up and followed after Karen. They walked down the corridor together. “He was a hell of a frail, I hardly recognised him.” “That’s the most talkative I’ve seen him yet, must’ve been ‘cos you were there.” “You think?” 132

“Well every time I’ve been to see him he’s always asked when you’re coming.” “Wait until I see that bloody mother of ours.” “C’mon Morven, can you two not call a truce, just this once?” “I would if I knew what it was I’d done wrong, but everything I do isn’t good enough.” “Isn’t it obvious.” “What?” “You took Luca away from her.” “You’re joking.” “Think about it, she had a loving husband and her family, then all of a sudden you come along and everything was turned upside down.” “It’s not my fault. I didn’t ask for any of this.” Morven’s face turned red with anger. “But see it from her point of view.” “Oh that’s right same as always, you take her side!” Morven spat and ran off down the corridor. “Morven!” Karen shouted after her, but didn’t follow “Morven, come back!”

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-CHAPTER ELEVEN-

Morven kept running until she was outside the hospital. She looked up and down the street, unsure what to do next. She knew the right thing to do was to go back and apologise, but she didn’t. She turned left and ran up the street, wanting to get as far away from the hospital as she could. She could feel people looking at her and talking as she ran past them, but she didn’t care. When she stopped running she found herself in the woods. She collapsed against one of the trees, gasping for air. Her chest burned, her legs ached. She bent over double and vomited. “Now that is not a pretty sight.” Morven wiped her mouth and looked round to see where the voice had come from. She couldn’t see anybody. “Up here.” Morven looked up at the voice; sitting in the tree was a guy, about the same age as Morven, dressed all in denim, with a black Tshirt that had a brand name that was obscured. His hair was scruffy and unkempt, but deliberately so. He jumped down and landed next to Morven. He was smaller than she was, about five foot two, his face was stretched and pointy from his nose backwards and he seemed to peer with one eye, while the other squinted shut. 134

“Don’t I know you?” He looked Morven up and down. “Don’t think so.” Morven instinctively looked away from him. “You used to go to school round here didn’t you?” He nodded his head vigorously to prove his point. Morven felt her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach. “You had that name nobody could pronounce.” “No you must’ve got me confused with someone else.” Morven knew full well who he was; it was his mannerisms and his excited nature that gave him away. Brian Nesbit, the school geek. She’d once kissed him, but only for a bet. The other girls had forced her into it; it was her only way she’d join the gang. “It began with a K or was it a C?” Brian hopped from side to side. “What did?” Morven was lost. “Your name.” “It’s not me, my name’s Sarah, Sarah Smith.” Morven nearly shouted. “Are you sure?” Brian peered at her with his one big eye. “Look. I know who I am, all right?” Morven snapped. Brian looked at her like a wounded animal. “I’m sorry, I’m just cranky. I must have one of those faces that people mistake for others.” Morven felt guilty. Brian shrugged; Morven took it as being forgiven. “People say I look like Kenneth Williams.”

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Morven laughed, but then saw that Brian meant it in all seriousness. “So what do you do?” Morven tried to change the subject. “Nothing much.” Brian scratched his nose “I’ve never really fitted in. It was the same at school as well; I was never one of the cool kids. Never wanted to be anyway.” Morven could see some of herself in Brian, the confusion of the need to part of a crowd against the unwillingness to conform. It scared her, because she knew deep down she still had those same feelings and coming back to Rannoch was bringing them all back. “There’s this place I usually go, nobody seems to bother with it. I could show you?” “Well I dunno.” Morven suddenly felt uneasy. “It’s not far.” “I’ve got to be…” Brian looked so sad and lonely Morven felt she couldn’t say no “… Oh all right then.” Brian’s face lit up. “It’s this way.” Brian turned and walked off. Morven followed him, she had no idea where she was going, but Brian walked on ahead with confidence. The ground became steeper and steeper. Morven found herself struggling for breath. The trees started to thin out the higher up they climbed. Brian was far in front; he strode on, covering the terrain easily. “Where we going?” Morven shouted up to him. 136

“We’re nearly there, it’s just up here.” Brian pointed to a solitary tree at the top of the hill. He bounced the last few steps and turned to triumphantly face Morven, his face was beaming. Morven finally reached the tree; she was flushed and breathing heavily. “Is this it?” Morven looked up at the tree. “Not just the tree, it’s this.” He opened his arms wide. Morven turned to follow his gaze. What she saw made her gasp. The world seemed to spread out below her as far as the eye could see. All shades of colours, green, red and yellow. It looked like a patchwork quilt. Rannoch was at the bottom of the hill surrounded by all this green. It was the first time she ever thought of her hometown as beautiful. “Isn’t it beautiful.” Brian looked as if he was about to cry. “Yes.” Were the only words Morven could think to say. Birds sang overhead, clouds rolled by, Morven looked down on Rannoch and hardly recognised it. “Where’s the motorway?” “You can see it if you climb the tree.” Morven squinted at Brian; she hadn’t climbed a tree since she was a kid. “It’s easy, I’ll help.” Brian walked over to the tree; Morven stood and watched him. He climbed the first branch with ease, and then he hauled his weight 137

up onto a higher branch. He sat, with his feet dangling, looking down at Morven. “C’mon, it’s easy.” Morven just stood and watched him. “Chicken.” He shouted down. Morven walked towards the tree, she took off her jacket and flung it on the ground. The first thick branch was about waist height and quiet easy to pull herself onto. She gingerly lifted her feet up so that she could stand on the branch. The next branch was above her head so she had to use knots in the trunk of the tree as footholds. With a great deal of puffing and straining she managed to pull herself up. She tried to be as ladylike as she could as she manoeuvred herself onto the same branch as Brian. “So where’s the motorway then?” She puffed. “Just over there.” Morven followed where he was pointing and right enough it was as if she was looking at a different landscape. The wood didn’t obscure the motorway anymore; she could see it sweeping down off the hills and straight past Rannoch. Now that she could see it she was convinced she could even hear the cars roaring along. Morven craned her neck to see if she could see anymore behind the wood. She forgot she was in a tree, as she leaned forward she lost her balance. She flung her arm out and slapped Brian full in the face, he fell backwards, but managed to grab a branch and steady himself. Morven, however, wasn’t quick enough 138

and found herself falling, one of the branches caught her on the shoulder and spun her round. She found herself looking up at the tree. Then she landed. Right on her backside. The bruise from her fall in the bath seemed to erupt; she closed her eyes tightly as the pain seared up her back. Her head whiplashed against the ground and made her open her eyes. She felt the soft grass beneath her with her fingertips. She put her head back and groaned. “Are you all right?” Brian clambered down the tree. She looked up and could see a trickle of blood coming from Brain’s nose; his face was slightly red as well. “What happened to you?” She groaned and lifted herself up onto her elbows. “You hit me, remember?” “When?” “Just before you fell.” “I didn’t did I?” Brian pointed at his nose in evidence. “Sorry.” Morven blushed and looked at the ground. “S’alright.” Brian mumbled. Morven tried to stand up; the pain in her back was enormous. She let out a gasp. “Here, let me help.” Brian bent down to help her. “It’s all right I’m fine.” She waved him away. Brian fussed round her like a mother hen. 139

“Fuck off!” Morven barked. “I was only trying…” He trailed off. “Just…” Morven tried to control her anger, turning red in the face “Just leave me alone.” Brian tried again to help, but Morven pushed him away. She hauled herself to her feet and despite the pain started to hobble away. “I could walk you to your door.” Morven pretended she didn’t hear him and tried to take her arm. “Don’t.” Morven pulled away. Brian stood watching her as she disappeared into the wood.

Morven finally arrived at her mother’s house. Her body ached all over, she could hardly stand, all she could think about was a hot bath. She approached the front door and was just about to ring it when the door flew open, her mother stood there, her face flushed with anger. “Where the hell have you been?” She shook and spat as she spoke. Morven was just about to speak, but was interrupted by another tirade. 140

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Running off like that. Anything could have happened. How irresponsible can you get? If your father had found out it could’ve killed him.” Morven could take all the ranting and raving her mother could throw at her, she’d heard it all before. The last one, however, let her know exactly where she stood. She knew that from now on her father’s ill health would get thrown in her face. “I’m going for a bath.” She pushed passed her mother and into the house. Her mother glared at her. Morven could feel her jaw start to ache as she tried to keep her mouth shut. “There’s two messages for you by the phone.” Her mother made for the living room. Morven picked up the notes written on post it notes and hobbled up the stairs. “I’m not you secretary you know young lady.” Morven didn’t even bother to look back; she just walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. She leaned over the bath and turned on the hot water tap, listening to the water rhythmically drumming into the bath. She gingerly opened the door and peered outside to make sure her mother wasn’t about. She limped across the landing to what used to be her old bedroom and picked up one of her bags. She

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walked back to the bathroom and this time locked the door behind her. The steam was slowly rising from the bath, the room felt warm and safe. She opened her bag and took out a few of her toiletries, lining them up on the windowsill. She threw her jacket on the floor and turned off the tap as the water reached the required level. She put her hand in to test the temperature and swirled it about, sending soft ripples across the surface, which crashed and splashed as they broke on the edge of the bath. She turned on the cold water tap and left it for a moment, she put her hand in again and was happy with the temperature. She looked at the toiletries sitting forlornly on the windowsill and saw that her mother had an expensive bottle of foam bath. Why not, she shrugged and picked up the bottle and poured half of its contents into the bath. She splashed the water for a bit and let the bubbles slowly grow. She slowly and carefully started to undress, putting her clothes on top of her jacket. She felt tender and sore, and knew that she probably looked black and blue. She deliberately didn’t look in the mirror as she gingerly lowered herself into the bath. She didn’t know what it was about hot water, but it seemed to have wonderful medicinal properties. As soon as her body submerged under the water she felt as if all her aches and pains were being soothed away. She lowered her head under the water, and allowed herself to float gently in the water, letting it easily take her weight. 142

She let out a long gasp as she came back up for air. She pushed her hair back from her face and rubbed her eyes. She could see the post it notes lying on the floor, she squinted and could just make out the numbers and names, one was Charlie, probably moaning about his pictures. She’d get them sorted when she got back. The other one was Frank. Shit! She’d forgotten to phone him. She’d be lucky if she had a job anymore. She’d phone him tonight. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and sank back below the surface. The world went quiet; she could hear her blood pumping past her ears. She gently rocked her head from side to side and could feel her hair stretching out behind her. She found herself daydreaming; she could picture Sam and his big strong shoulders, his powerful arms reaching out towards her. His whole body silhouetted against the sun. His face was indistinct; it seemed to change as she tried to remember. He came towards her, his arm wrapped around her. Despite his size he had a surprisingly tender touch. She could hear a pounding, her heart. Then a muffled voice, which got steadily louder. “Are you out that bath yet? You better not have used all the hot water.” She could hear her mother clearly as she came back to the surface. 143

“I’ll be out in a minute.” She shouted back. She waited until she could hear her Mother’s footsteps receding down the stairs and then she hauled herself out of the water. Her skin turning red and prickly as the heat evaporated off her. She stepped out of the bath and reached over for a towel, wrapping it around her, it felt rough and starchy against her not like the warm soft towels she had back home that she could quite easily snuggle up with for an hour or so. She pulled the plug out of the bath and watched the tornado slowly form as the water drained away. As she watched the water she resolved to meet up with Sam, after all what had she got to lose. She could hear her mother coming back up the stairs. She quickly gathered up all her stuff in her arms and opened the bathroom door. She passed her mother on the landing. “Bathroom’s free.” She smiled sarcastically and quickly closed her bedroom door behind her before her mother could reply. She threw her stuff onto her bed and slumped down next to them. As she looked round the room she realised that nothing much had changed since she had left, the posters had gone from the walls, but quite a lot of her junk was still hanging out of the drawers of the cabinet. If her mother hated her so much then why hadn’t she thrown any of it away?

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She felt like going and having a rummage, but she saw the post it note with Frank’s number. She rubbed herself down with the towel, its coarse fibres feeling as if they were scratching her skin. She quickly got dressed in a fresh pair of clothes from her bag and let her hair hang damp from her shoulders. She picked up the post it note and went downstairs to the phone. The phone sat on a small mahogany desk with a phonebook and yellow pages in a rack underneath. Next to the phone was a brown leather cushion, which had seen better days. Morven sat down with her back leaning against the wall. She dialled the number on the post it note and listened to the ring. A woman answered. Morven presumed it was Frank’s wife, even though she didn’t know if he was married. “Can I speak to Frank please?” Morven spoke in her best telephone voice. “Who is this?” The woman sounded nervous and agitated. “It’s Morven…” “Morven? I don’t know any Morven.” The woman interrupted. “From the hospital. I work with Frank.” “Are you sure?” The woman’s voice wavered and lost most of its conviction. “Of course I’m sure.” Morven lost her composure. “I don’t know anyone called Morven.” The woman’s voice was wistful and dreamlike. 145

Morven found herself wondering what sort of home life Frank must have. “Who’s that on the phone?” She could hear Frank’s voice in the background. “Morven, but I don’t know anyone called Morven. Do I?” Morven listened intently as Frank came to the phone. “It’s all right Margaret.” “But I don’t know anyone called Morven.” “It’s all right, it’s somebody from my work. There we are. That’s right give me the phone.” Frank spoke in a very soft soothing voice. Their voices grew distant as the phone clunked down. Morven could only just hear him, repeating the same calming words over and over again. There was a moments silence and then Morven heard the phone being picked up. “Sorry ‘bout that.” Frank came back on steadier and more assured. “S’alright.” Morven replied sheepishly, she was curious as to who the woman was, but didn’t really know how to approach the subject. “She’s just a little highly strung.” Frank let that hang in the air before he said anymore “You weren’t at work today.” “I know…” Morven dried up, she’s tried to think of a thousand excuses, but none of them came to mind.

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“Do you want to talk about it?” Frank reverted back to his soft calming voice. “Family problems.” “Aren’t they always.” “It’s kinda complicated.” Morven looked round about her to make sure her mother wasn’t listening in “It’s my Dad.” There was silence on the other end. “He’s taken ill.” Morven had to fill the silence. “And you felt you had to be with him.” “Something like that.” “How long do you need?” “Eh?” “How much time off?” “Are you sure?” “I know what it’s like, take as much time as you need.” “Shouldn’t be more than a week.” “Take as long as you want.” “Thanks Frank.” “Think nothing of it. Oh and Morven?” “Yeah?” “I hope your Dad gets better.” “Thanks.” Morven was surprised to find tears starting to build up in her eyes. She put the phone down before she embarrassed herself. She could hear her mother moving about upstairs, she listened to make sure she wasn’t coming down the stairs. 147

Satisfied, she dialled Charlie’s number. She listened to the ringing tone, four, five times and then the answer machine kicked in. “You are through to the Finch residence, this is Charles speaking. I’m afraid we’re not in at the moment, you know what to do after the tone.” Morven tried not to laugh at Charlie’s attempt at a posh accent. “Hi Charlie, its Morven…” “I hope you’re going to pay for those calls.” Morven’s mother shouted from the top of the stairs. “I’m on the phone.” Morven glared up at her mother “Sorry ‘bout that. I’m at my parents, eh, something came up. Don’t worry about the photos, I’ll get them as soon as I’m back. Seeya, bye.” Morven hung up. She never liked talking to answer machines. She never knew what to say. She looked back up the stairs, but her mother had disappeared from view.

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-CHAPTER TWELVE-

Dinner was a disaster. Nobody said a word. Morven, Karen and their mother had sat in stony-faced silence throughout. Morven lay in the bed that had been her safe haven throughout her childhood. It was strange, but now she felt uncomfortable. She stared at the ceiling and at the curtains that still refused to meet in the middle letting a thin shaft of silvery moonlight slip into the room. The light seemed to flicker slightly, but she didn’t pay any attention. She rolled over and looked at Sam, his face buried deep in the pillow, his muscular back rising and falling as he breathed. She watched as he fidgeted, shifted his weight and placed an arm under his head. “This is how it’s meant to be.” She thought and smiled. She reached out and gently stroked his back, there was a momentary recoil, but he soon returned to his rhythmic breathing. Her fingers tingled as they moved slowly up his back from the base of his spine to the nape of his neck. It felt as if electricity was shooting up her arm and into the rest of her body. Her heart sped up, as did her breathing, she felt elated. She gently caressed his neck; he turned to face her. His eyes looked so kind; there was a gentle sparkle behind them.

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He leaned forward and kissed her, she closed her eyes and tried to savour the moment. She opened her eyes, they were dancing close. The light from the mirrorball above them sparkled and shimmered casting a silvery light over everyone. Morven looked around her at all the other couples dancing happily, their faces lit with excitement. She felt Sam pull her closer as the tempo of the music slowed. She felt safe in his arms as she relaxed and rested her head on his shoulder. The music changed again, a fast repetitive rhythm rising to a manic crescendo. Sam span her round and round, faster and faster. She started to feel dizzy and out of control, she tried to shout at Sam to get him to stop, but no words came out. The music got even faster, Morven started to feel sick. Sam let go of her sending her careering away. She flew like a spinning top, everything flashing past her. The smiling faces watched her and clapped and cheered. Gradually she started to slow, the faces were no longer smiling, they were contorted into evil glares. Baying and slavering. A slow handclap struck up as she slowed to a stop. She felt strong hands take her by the arms. She turned expecting to see Sam, she smiled, but her mother faced her. Her face like thunder. Morven felt like a little girl again, as if she’d just muddied her dress. 150

Her mother looked down at her; Morven stared back at her too afraid to say anything. Her mother raised her hand as if to strike, Morven instinctively flinched. A smirk stretched into a smile and a thunderous laugh echoed out. Morven froze with terror as her mother’s blood red teeth transfixed her. Morven screamed but it was lost in the midst of the laugh. ☯

☯

☯

☯

☯

Morven woke with a scream, which stuck in her throat as she realised where she was. Her cuddly toys from her childhood stared innocently back at her. She kicked her legs free from the covers, her skin felt cold and clammy; beads of sweat covered her entire body. She got up and walked gingerly over to the bedroom window. She pulled the curtains wide and stared at the world outside. The sun was rising slowly over the rooftops its strong wintry light chasing the silvery darkness across the hills. She was certain she could see the lone tree from yesterday. She put her hand against the window and watched the condensation form around it, as she removed her hand the impression slowly faded, denying it ever existed. As she moved away from the window her body ached and throbbed, she decided she was too old for climbing trees. 151

She gingerly lowered herself onto the bed. She could hear noises from the other room, she looked at the clock, 7:30. Her mother as regular as clockwork as she heard her get up and go to the bathroom. She decided it was too risky for an early morning confrontation, so she quickly dressed, picked up her bag and ran down the stairs. Her mother just came out of the bathroom as the front door swung shut.

Once outside Morven didn’t really know what to do, she could go and get her films printed and take them to her Dad, but it was too early. She decided to do some exploring, see if the town had changed any. Half an hour later she was bored. Every street looked exactly the same as it had ten years ago, even the same net curtains seemed to twitch as she walked past. The house on the corner still had gnomes in the garden, but now at least five more and a wishing well had been added. Even Mr Murphy’s house still had a skip full of rubbish outside it and his son’s car jacked up on house bricks in the driveway, the same patches of rust holding it all together. She kept on walking until she found herself on the barren patch of land behind the timber merchants. The scene of many adolescent fumbles. She could remember Tony Clark; it had all ended in tears, 152

not hers. He’d tried to go too far and she kneed him in the goolies. She’d left him curled in a ball crying his eyes out. She checked the fence for signs of graffiti, all sorts of names scratched into the flaky paintwork, each of them bringing memories flooding back. ‘Becky Luvs Tam’, Becky Taylor and Tam McColl. Becky was one of the most popular girls in school, manly because of her looks. At fourteen she looked twenty and could easily get into the pubs in town. Tam was not the sharpest tool in the box, he’d been kept back a few years and was older than all his contemporaries. He used his fists to express himself. Everyone did what Tam said. ‘Pamela + Pat’, Pamela was Becky’s best friend, was being the operative word. They were in direct competition for everything, especially boys. Pamela wasn’t quite as attractive as Becky, and Becky took every opportunity to remind her of this. The rivalry between them would often boil over. Pat spent most of his school life being picked on for being overweight; he wasn’t overweight, just a little podgy. His mother told him it was puppy fat and he’d grow out of it. He got fed up with the constant taunts and refused to eat for a fortnight. He was rushed to hospital after collapsing at school, when he came back he looked fitter, leaner and more attractive. A chiselled, well defined jaw, rather than a podgy round face. All the girls wanted to know who the new boy was. Pamela was the first to get her claws into him, mainly to beat Becky to it, and she never really let go.

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Morven could see all sorts of names; some rang bells others didn’t. ‘Mo + Grant’, she stopped dead when she saw her name etched into the wood. She didn’t expect to see it, she didn’t even remember doing it, worse still she couldn’t for the life of her remember anyone called Grant. She wracked her brain, but no image of a Grant would come to the surface. There was Michael, Iain, Paul, James and Robert, but no Grant. She headed back to the centre of town, all the while trying to remember who Grant was.

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-CHAPTER THIRTEEN-

Chandlers had been in existence for as long as Morven could remember. It was where her father had taken her when she wanted her first camera. She could remember it as being dark and piled high to the ceiling with all sorts of equipment. She didn’t know any of it, they just looked like shiny bits of metal to her, but she pointed at them and asked her father what each of them was and what they did, without pause her father could tell her each and every piece. From the outside the shop hadn’t changed much, the same old painted sign above the door and the window displays either side of the door had the same hand written price tags. The only things that had changed were the cameras; they at least looked more modern. Morven checked her bag, to make sure she had remembered the films, before she entered. The door chimed as she pushed it open. The place had completely changed, the first thing that struck her was the brightness, the bright red carpet did little to assuage the assault on her eyes. Gone were the crowded shelves that went on forever, everything was now kept behind glass cabinets, behind glass counters. The floor left empty to dazzle the eyes. It wasn’t the same anymore, it didn’t have any romance, it could have been any shop in any street in any town anywhere.

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Standing behind one of the counters was a skinny young man idly flicking through a magazine. He watched Morven out of the corner of his eye, but kept turning the pages of the magazine. She looked around her to see if anyone else was available, but couldn’t see anyone. She approached the young man; he kept staring intently at the magazine. “Do you still do films?” “How do you mean do?” He glanced up at her. “Develop them.” “Aye.” Morven rummaged in her bag and pulled out four films. The young man finally gave up on his magazine and picked up one of her films. “These are black and white.” “And?” “We don’t do black and white.” Morven could see his chewing gum rolling about inside his mouth. “What do you mean?” Morven could feel herself starting to loose it. “Just that, we don’t do it anymore. Nobody uses black and white nowadays it’s all colour or digital.” Morven didn’t want to listen to him droning on anymore and was just about to leave when an older man with a well-trimmed grey beard and large glasses came out from the back. 156

“What’s going on?” He looked at Morven first and then at the young man. “Lady wants black and white.” The young man sneered as if the idea was insane. “Can I’ve a word?” The older man gestured to the young man “I’ll just be a sec.” He said to Morven The two of them disappeared; Morven felt slightly foolish standing there all on her own. A moment later the older man returned, no sign of the young man. He smiled, Morven smiled back, she didn’t know why. “You were after black and white’s?” “To get some printed, yeah.” “There isn’t much call for it these days.” He could see Morven was about to leave “But don’t worry I’ve got a small set up out the back, I could do them for you if you wanted?” “Would you?” “Aye no problem, what size would you want them?” “Whatever you can do.” “7x5’s all right then?” “Fine. How much do you want for them?” “We’ll talk about that later, come back in a couple of hours, I’ll have them ready for you.” “Ta much.” “Like I said, no problem.”

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Morven came out of the shop, it’d started to rain, everything was grey. This was more how she remembered the place. She walked down the high street looking at the shops that hadn’t changed in years. The shoe shop, which sold shoes that would’ve looked old fashioned in the forties. The gentleman’s outfitters, that sold nothing but tweed. The jewellery shop that had never heard of a digital watch. As she went further down the street something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She turned and looked, but there was nothing there. She thought nothing of it and carried on, but across the street she saw a figure in a long overcoat disappear down a side street. Without thinking she ran across the road and followed. The figure headed down a small alley behind the shops. Morven was convinced it was the bald man from her photographs. She reached the top of the alley, it was a dead end, but the man was nowhere in sight. She went up and down the alley checking doorways, throwing binbags out of the way, but there was no sign of the man. She kicked an old metal bin, which fell over sending an almighty racket echoing up and down the alley. “What the hell’s going on out there?” A disembodied voice shouted from an upstairs window. Morven ducked into one of the doorways and hid until she heard the window creak shut. 158

She was just about to sneak away when one of the doorways across from her flew open and two unfeasibly large men flung out a young man. “And don’t come fucking back until you’ve got them.” One of the large men grunted. The door slammed shut. The young man picked himself up off the ground and brushed himself down. Morven watched him as he picked up some of his belongings that had scattered across the alley. She could see his face was badly bruised, the skin round his left eye was swollen making it impossible for him to see out of it. His hands scrabbled about trying unsuccessfully to pick up some coins. Morven shifted her weight to try and get a better look, as she moved her leg kicked out and clattered against the dustbin, the noise echoed up the alley. “Who’s there?” He stopped, standing stock still like a rabbit caught in headlights. Morven tried to make herself as small as possible. “I know you’re there, I can hear you.” He started to walk towards Morven’s hiding place. Morven looked round about her for a way out. The door she leaned against was locked; the end of the alley was too far away. He came closer. Her heart was racing, she felt sick, she could feel sweat running down her back. Her hands began to shake. 159

He came closer. “Please don’t hurt me, I didn’t see anything, I was just hanging about. Look I won’t tell anybody. Don’t hurt me.” She stood up and blurted out, holding her arms in front of her to ward off the blows. “Hurt you?” He stopped in his tracks and held his hand up to his mouth and started giggling like a child. Morven stared at him, confused. Then slowly her confusion turned to anger. “What are you doing creeping up on people like that?” “I wasn’t creeping, you were the one hiding.” “I wasn’t hiding.” “Well what were you doing behind the bins?” “I was just…” She couldn’t think of an excuse. “Ah ha!” He pointed and laughed at her, then quickly winced and held his face. “What happened to you anyway?” “Nuthin.” “Must’ve been a pretty big nothing.” “Eh?” “To make that much of a mess of your face.” “Oh that, that was a… a door.” “Aye I’ve heard these door thingies can be a bugger to get used to.” “Eh?”

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“Nothing.” Morven started to relax “You haven’t seen an old guy round here? Bald? Big long overcoat? Came down here a couple of minutes ago?” “Might be in there.” He pointed over his shoulder at the door he’d been thrown out of. “What’s in there anyway?” Morven didn’t fancy the idea of finding out for herself. “A club.” “A club?” “Yeah, and old man’s club.” “How’d you get in then, you’re not old.” “I’m just the errand boy.” “What does that involve?” “Fetching and carrying.” “So the old guy, he went in there?” “What old guy?” “The one I asked you about.” Morven could feel herself starting to loose patience. “I dunno, I didn’t look.” “So you wouldn’t mind if I had a look?” Before he could see anything Morven pushed past him and through the door. She found herself in a dimly lit corridor, the door swung shut behind her with a bang. She tried not to jump. Empty beer crates were scattered about the floor; she picked her way between the 161

crates and puddles on the floor that she dare not imagine what they were puddles of. There were a couple of doors leading off, which she tried, but they were all locked. She could hear the murmur of voices and the occasional burst of laughter from up ahead. She checked behind her to make sure she wasn’t being followed. She wasn’t. She crept along to the end of the corridor; the voices were a little louder. She peered round, from where she stood she could see six snooker tables, each with strong light glaring on them. There was a bar to the right of the snooker tables and at the far end was a small stage. Through the dim murk Morven could make out about twelve men, one in a white shirt behind the bar cleaning glasses, three sitting at the bar, four playing snooker and the rest sitting with their backs to the wall watching. Each of them was wearing a different colour of leather jacket. The four playing snooker weren’t wearing jackets, but she could see a pile draped across one of the unused tables. Morven checked her watch. It was just after ten in the morning and here were these guys carrying on as if it was the middle of the night. For all Morven knew this was a party from last night that hadn’t finished yet. She couldn’t see the bald man anywhere. She tried to hear what they were saying, she was curious. 162

“Laughing boy’ll get the gear.” One of them seemed to be saying. “You reckon he can be trusted?” Another fidgeted with the lapels of his leather jacket. “He’s too thick to try anything.” One of the other men laughed, bearing his yellow teeth. “Aye he’d have trouble raising a hard-on in a brothel.” One of the snooker players sneered. The others laughed and nodded, puffing away on their cigarettes sending plumes of blue smoke into the air. One of the snooker players took his shot, which didn’t exactly turn out as planed. “I thought you said you were good.” One of the other players laughed. “It’s these tables. The slate must be dodgy.” He rubbed his hand along the table. There was a sharp intake of breath from the others. “What did you say about my tables?” One of the men at the wall stood up. He was middle aged and had grey crew cut hair and a pair of aviator sunglasses on, despite the darkness. He strode forward, brushing his hand down his brown leather jacket. “I didn’t say anything Ronnie.” Even in the dull light everyone could see he’d turned pale. “You said my tables were shite.” He seemed to growl the words. 163

“Naw I didn’t.” “Jimmy, you heard him. What did he say?” Ronnie pointed at another man, who was drinking from a pint glass. He slowly put the glass down, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and sighed. The snooker player looked at him, his eyes almost bulging out of his skull. “He said your tables were shite.” He spoke slowly and deliberately. “Naw. Naw I didn’t.” The words tumbled out of the snooker player’s mouth “You know I wouldn’t. I may be thick, but I’m no stupid.” “You said it mate.” Ronnie pulled his glasses slightly down his nose. He peered over them at the snooker player, whose eyes were darting about trying to find an ally. Everybody avoided his gaze. Morven held her breath, as everything seemed to slow down. Ronnie took one small step, bent his knees. He snapped like a spring. His head crunched into the snooker player’s nose. He fell back onto the table, clutching his nose trying to stop the blood, which splattered across his face. The pack mentality took over, the smell of blood was in the air, they all crowded in on the snooker player. “NOOOO!” Morven couldn’t stand it anymore; she sprang from her hiding place.

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It was only after every head turned towards her that she realised she might have made the wrong decision. “What the fuck!” Ronnie stopped in his tracks and faced Morven. Morven felt like a rabbit caught in headlights, she couldn’t move. “Where’d she come from?” One of the leather jackets at the bar spoke. Another strode over and grabbed Morven by the arm, she tried to struggle but his grip was like a vice. He dragged her over to one of the tables. She was facing Ronnie; she could see the snooker player over his shoulder. He still held his bleeding nose, but his eyes filled with relief, as he knew he’d been forgotten about. “What you doing hanging about in a place like this? It’s no place for a lady.” Ronnie pushed his glasses back into place, as if trying to maintain the hard man image, but his mouth betrayed the slightest hints of a smile, the corner of his mouth curled upwards slightly, or maybe Morven imagined it. “Nothing.” The words stumbled out of Morven’s mouth. “If you were doing nothing, then how come you were hiding?” Ronnie moved closer, Morven could smell his stale breath. “I… I was looking for someone.” Morven started to find her voice.

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“Looks like you’ve found him.” Ronnie smiled and nodded at everybody, his tongue lolling about his mouth as he did so. “No this guy was older.” “Aaw you say the nicest things.” “And bald.” “It gets better.” “He had a long overcoat.” “Never seen him.” “He came in the back way.” “Who is this guy anyway?” “I don’t know.” “So why you following him?” “I don’t know.” Morven started to feel stupid. “Do you make a habit out of following strange men?” “No.” Morven looked down at her feet “It sounds daft but I felt I had to follow him, I’ve seen him before. In my dreams.” “In your dreams?” “I told you it was daft.” “We all do something daft at one time or another.” Ronnie took a step back. “Now that sounds like something worth hearing.” Morven became brave as she saw Ronnie’s face visibly soften. “They’re old stories that this lot have heard a thousand times.” “I haven’t.”

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“You’re either very brave, or very stupid. What’s you’re name anyway?” “Morven.” She thought about lying, but her mouth went into gear before she could stop it. “Morven? That’s an unusual name.” Ronnie scratched his head “Wait a minute are you Luca’s girl?” Morven was taken aback, how did her father know people like this? Did he live a secret life that none of the family knew about? Was her family riddled with secrets? Morven found herself nodding. “You must’ve gone to school with my Becky.” She could remember Becky going on about her father saying he was something big. “How’d you know my Dad?” Morven’s mind was filled with thousands of questions. “He did some work for me.” That created even more questions. The others stood around bemused by what was going on, it was as if they had smelt blood and now they were being deprived of it. “What you going to do with her?” One of them spoke up from a safe distance. “Do?” Ronnie turned to face them, his face contorted into a snarl “We’re not going to do anything. This young lady entered our

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establishment in error and I expect her to leave in one piece, that includes you Tony.” Morven followed their gaze to a young lad who was struggling to look innocent, his hand rubbing his face to reveal a five o’clock shadow. Morven thought he looked familiar, but couldn’t place him. She was surprised to find herself wanting to stay longer, but Ronnie had his arm round his shoulder and was pushing her towards the door. “I hope you find the man of your dreams.” Ronnie actually seemed to be smiling. Morven blushed and looked at her feet. Ronnie opened the door. As soon as Morven got outside the daylight nearly blinded her, she squinted and nearly jumped out of her skin as the door shut behind her. She could hear several bolts being pulled across. Morven took in the building for the first time, it was on a quiet street, every other business was closed down, to let signs hanging forlornly from above. It was painted red, faded slightly, but not a single piece of graffiti that adorned every other building. The windows had heavy duty wire grills in front of them, also painted red. The sign above the door was faded and illegible. For some reason Morven felt embarrassed to be seen leaving a place like that, she quickly turned and walked away. The nagging question of what kind of work her father would do for people like that still remained.

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-CHAPTER FOURTEEN-

Morven entered the camera shop and was glad to see the skinny guy wasn’t there. The bearded man smiled at her. “I’ll just get them.” Morven nodded as he disappeared behind the counter, moments later he popped back up with four envelopes in his hands. “These are good photos, makes a change from the usual rubbish. Where’d you learn?” “My father taught me.” Morven found herself smiling. “He must be a good teacher.” “Thanks. He was.” “Oh I’m sorry, was it recently?” “Sorry?” “That your father died.” “He’s not dead, he’s just ill.” Morven could feel her face turn red and tears well up in her eyes “I just found out a few days ago.” “I’m sorry I should just learn to shut up, I’m always putting my size 10’s in it.” “Don’t worry about it, I’ve just been touchy ever since I found out.” “Aye these things always knock you for six. You just up visiting then?”

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“Yeah, I used to live here when I was a kid, but I’m now living down south.” “You managed to escape then?” “They couldn’t stop me.” “I know what you mean.” He laughed revealing perfectly straight white teeth “I got away for about ten years, but the place had its claws in me and I had to come back.” “Christ I thought I was bad just visiting, at least I can pack a bag and just disappear.” “Aye you don’t know when you’re well off.” Morven sniffed and looked down at the film envelopes on the counter. “Oh aye these, shall we say a fiver for each?” “A fiver? You sure?” “Aye why not, it was a pleasure to do them anyway.” Morven rummaged in her bag and found a crumpled twenty pound note. She fished it out and handed it over. “That’ll do nicely madam.” Morven picked up the photos and turned to go out of the shop. “I hope you come back again.” “You never know.” Morven smiled back and walked out of the shop.

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Morven tried not to make eye contact with anyone as she walked down the hospital corridor. She didn’t want to have a conversation with anyone, she felt depressed enough just being in the hospital. She felt herself clutch tighter at the photographs in her hand as an old lady connected to a drip came round the corner. Morven avoided eye contact and sped up. She could hear the slight squeaking of the casters on the drip as the old lady stopped and then carried on. Morven turned and watched as the old lady hobbled along, she started to carry on walking but found herself face to face with a nurse. “Its Morven isn’t it?” The young nurse smiled at her. She had deep brown eyes and sallow skin with a single deep freckle on her cheek. Her brown hair was tied back in a ponytail like Morven’s. Morven nodded as she realised it was the nurse that had been with her father. “It’s Lesley.” The nurse spoke just as the question was forming in Morven’s head. “Is he all right?” “He’s a bit stronger, we’ve got him in a wheelchair.” Lesley put her hand gently on Morven’s back and guided her into the ward. Morven found herself holding her breath as she entered. Her father looked pale and frail sitting on the wheelchair in his pyjamas and borrowed slippers. 171

He smiled at them, but his face looked hollow and gaunt. “This is him better?” Morven said under her breath, wishing her eyes were deceiving her. “He’s been asking after you.” Lesley had seen the look in Morven’s eyes before “Talk to him, remember he’s still your father.” “You brought some pictures.” Luca raised a thin skeletal arm as he pointed. “I said I would didn’t I.” Morven knelt down at the foot of the wheelchair. Her father reached out and brushed her hair away from her eyes, just as he used to do when she was little. “There’s a small garden at the back of the hospital. Why don’t you take your father for a walk?” “A walk?” Luca looked at the wheelchair. “You can sit then and Morven can push.” Lesley laughed. Luca smiled again, Morven could see the warmth in his eyes. He may be in a frail decrepit shell, but inside he was still the same man.

Morven followed Lesley’s directions to the letter and found herself pushing her father down a ramp towards some glass doors. Morven turned herself around at the bottom of the ramp and pushed the doors open with her backside. She winced slightly as a sharp pain shot up her back. 172

She wheeled her father over to a bench surrounded by a large rhododendron bush. “It’s nice here.” Luca looked round “Peaceful.” “Are you warm enough?” Morven fidgeted with the tartan rug that Lesley had given them to drape over Luca’s legs. “You sounded like your mother there.” “Oh god.” Morven screwed up her face “How could you say such a thing.” “You have to admit it, there are similarities between the two of you.” “Tell me you’re pulling my leg.” “No I’m not, look, you’re both stubborn, head-strong and argumentative, but you both have very loving sides too.” “Mum loving? This must’ve been years ago, before I was born, right?” “Why are you so hard on her?” Luca stared intently into Morven’s eyes. “Me? Hard on her? What about the way she’s treated me?” Morven tried to fight back the anger that welled up inside her “Anyway I didn’t come here to talk about Mum. I came to talk to you.” “But we are talking.” “Dad.” Morven whined. “I only want us to be a family.” “That’s the whole point. What is it they say? You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family. That just about sums 173

us up.” Morven crossed her arms and sighed, she stared off into space in a huff as if she were still a child. Luca smiled to himself as he watched her, she’d had that same look when she was little, and somehow, despite everything she still managed to retain some of that innocence. He noticed the photographs sitting on her lap. “Are those the pictures you mentioned?” Morven turned to him, their argument instantly forgotten. She fumbled with the envelope and took out the photographs. Both their faces lit up as they found themselves on common ground. Morven explained how she met Kenny and Sarah. She watched her father’s face crease with concern, but then laughed out loud at the pictures Kenny had taken. “They look so alive.” He murmured. Morven opened the next envelope and showed the shots of Kenny and Sarah taking each other’s picture. “They look as they should. Little children, not little men.” Luca nodded at the pictures in approval. A bird cried out as it flew overhead, but Morven didn’t hear it. She opened the other envelope, the picture of the man at the bookshop, but she wasn’t looking at him. In the far corner at the edge of the street stood the bald man in the overcoat, his eyes staring straight at the camera. She flicked through the rest of the photographs; he was in every single one. 174

“Slow down, you’re going to fast.” Luca held her hand to stop her. “Do you see him?” Morven gasped. “The man at the bookshop? Of course I see him, he’s right in the middle of the shot.” “No him.” Morven pointed at the bald man. Luca looked closely, his mouth moved as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out. “Tell me you see him, and it’s not just me going mad.” “I don’t believe it.” Luca said in a low whisper. “What?” “It’s…” “You know him don’t you?” Morven gasped. Luca tried to avoid eye contact, but the silence was enough to answer Morven’s question. “Who is he? I even thought I saw him at the shops today. I’ve got other pictures at home, he’s in them all.” Morven found herself getting hysterical. Luca concentrated on the one single tear that ran down his Morven’s cheek, he couldn’t look her in the eye. “Who is he Dad?” Morven forced herself into Luca’s line of sight. “I promised your mother.” He spoke quietly, looking at the ground.

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“Mum? What the fuck’s she got to do with it?” Morven was turning red with anger. Luca shot her a look; he never liked hearing people swear. “Sorry.” Morven mumbled. “It’s something we never thought we’d have to tell you.” Luca finally looked her in the eye, his face now stern and serious. “What are you on about? Is this some sort of big family secret?” Morven laughed nervously despite herself. Luca took Morven’s hand in his. “You must realise that none of this changes anything, we’re all still who we are.” “You’re talking in riddles, just tell me what’s going on.” “You know how I came to this country?” “You’ve told us a thousand times, it’s now family folklore.” “Well I didn’t tell you the whole truth.” Luca swallowed deeply “Yes I left Poland to try and find a better life in the west. But I didn’t come here alone. There was Josef, my best friend, and his girlfriend Mila. She was pregnant with their first child.” Morven felt her anger subside as she listened. Her father seemed to be in a far away place. “We travelled in cattle trucks, in goods trains and tractors. Anything that moved. It took us three months to get across Europe, it wasn’t easy. Mila found it really hard; the baby was nearly due. In a barn in France she gave birth to a baby boy, Josef and I delivered the baby. Mila was sick for days, we didn’t think she would make it, but 176

she pulled through. Mila was a fighter. We had to work harder; the baby was an extra mouth to feed. We lived in that barn for nearly six months, working in various farms. Then Josef came back one day and told us he’d managed to get us passage on a boat to England. Josef and I had to work our fare, cleaning, running repairs. Mila worked in the galley. We had to hide the baby, moving him round the boat each time we thought he might be found. Then things changed, it takes only a few hours to cross the channel, but it seemed like forever. I came back from fixing something or other and I found Mila crying, sobbing her heart out. I tried to ask her what was wrong, but I couldn’t make sense of what she was saying. She just clutched the baby and rocked back and forth. Josef came back and found us, Mila sobbing and me getting angry with her. He jumped to conclusions and hit me; I must’ve blacked out. When I came too Josef was crying as well. I was confused; Josef pointed at the baby. It was perfectly still, it looked asleep, but then I saw it was blue.” Luca wiped tears from his eyes. “The baby had just kept crying, Mila was scared they’d be found. She was only trying to keep him quiet.” “You mean she killed her own child?” Morven gasped. Luca looked at her as if a spell had been broken. “She killed her baby?” Morven shook her head. “It was an accident, she was scared. The baby just kept crying and crying. She was just trying to keep it quiet.” “How did Josef take it?” 177

“How do you think?” “He must’ve blamed Mila.” “Not really.” “How come? I would’ve.” “I never told him it was Mila.” “What?” “I couldn’t tell him the love of his life had killed his child, it would’ve destroyed him.” “So what did you tell him?” “I told him it was me.” “My god! What did you do that for?” “It was the only thing I could think of. I didn’t want to see him hating Mila.” “So instead you made him hate you.” Luca looked at the ground, there might have been a tear in his eye Morven couldn’t be sure. “What happened?” “He hit me of course, again and again. I didn’t defend myself. I just waited until he tired himself out. Next thing I knew I woke up in hospital in England.” “What about Mila and Josef?” “I didn’t see Josef until many years later. He had changed a lot; his anger had eaten him up. Destroying him from the inside. I didn’t recognise him, but he recognised me. That must have been when he started plotting his revenge.” 178

“Revenge?” “Oh yes revenge. A slow calculated plan that would last for years, probably until the day I died.” “My god! What…” The words trailed off. “He must’ve followed me home, watched the family.” “He stalked us?” “Well not quite. You weren’t born at the time, it was just your mother, Audrey and Karen” Luca looked straight into Morven’s eyes “He must’ve got to know my routine, he waited until I was gone.” Morven felt like there was a dead weight in her stomach, a solid mass that just kept growing. “He broke into the house, the girls must’ve been playing in the garden, they don’t know anything about this. They mustn’t know.” Luca’s eyes were turning red and puffy as he fought to hold back the tears. “Mustn’t know what?” Morven felt as if she was going to burst, she wanted to know what her father was telling her. Help him deal with his pain. Share it. But the look in his eyes told her it was something terrible, something she shouldn’t know. “He raped your mother.” Luca managed to get the words out just as the tears came. Morven was momentarily paralysed; she looked at her father and threw her arms around him. As she held him tight she could feel him shake and shudder, his frail body felt like a child’s.

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“At least something good came out of it.” She heard him whisper in her ear. Morven pushed him away, keeping him at arms length. “What do you mean by that?” She felt an unknown strength and anger fill her body. “I was just saying.” Luca looked hurt. “Well don’t. I don’t know how you could say something like that. She was raped Dad. How could anything good come from that?” “I know of at least one thing.” “Dad, don’t you get it…?” “You.” Luca interrupted, staring her straight in the eye. Morven’s mouth worked, but no words came out. Her brain had turned to mush, nothing made sense anymore. “Your mother found out she was pregnant. She didn’t tell me at first, she was scared of what I might do. What could I do? I took one look at you when you were born and I was smitten. I couldn’t bear you any harm. I raised you as if you were my own.” Morven could hear him talking, but none of it was going in. “I think Josef thought that every time I looked at you I would think of him and his child, but it didn’t work. Every time I see you I feel warmth inside, there must be a reason why you came along.” “My life’s a lie.” Morven whispered, the words sticking in her throat and only just making their way out. “Sorry?” Luca couldn’t hear her. 180

“My whole life’s a lie. Everything I believe in, everything I’ve done. None of it’s real.” “That’s not true. You are who you are.” Luca tried to reassure her. “But that’s just it, I didn’t know who I am anymore.” “You’re who you’ve always been. You’re my little angel.” “How can I be? I’m not your daughter.” Morven stood up from the bench and ran. She pushed her way through the hospital doors and ran down the corridor; she couldn’t look back at Luca, sitting in his wheelchair sobbing like a baby. She ran through the town, her heart thumping, her head pounding, her feet splashing through puddles that seemed to go away. Her mind was empty, no thoughts, no dilemmas. Nothing. She didn’t know anything anymore. She crashed through the door of her mother’s house, leaving it swinging on its hinges. She bounded straight up the stairs to her room. She grabbed her bags and stuffed her things into them. She paused for a moment, looked round the room. The stuffed toys looked back at her. Taunting her, as if they’d known all along that she didn’t belong. She ran back down the stairs. Her mother appeared in the doorway of the living room, her face contorted as if she was about to launch into another tirade of abuse. Morven didn’t stop, she ran straight to her car. 181

The only time she stopped was when she looked in her rearview mirror and could see the shrinking form of her mother standing open mouthed in the front doorway. The moment of hesitation disappeared in an instant. She kept on driving; she had to get away.

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-CHAPTER FIFTEEN-

Morven stared at the wall of photographs in her flat. She tried to see if she could tell if the people were happy. She couldn’t tell. The people in the background, who were just walking by, looked as if they knew where they were going, as if they had a purpose, as if they knew who they were. She looked at the photographs in her hands, at Josef staring back at her. She felt empty. Before she knew what she was doing she started to tear up the photographs. She ripped and tore until small shreds littered the floor. The phone started to ring, but she didn’t hear it, its incessant shrill demands for attention went unnoticed. All she could do was think and the last thing she wanted to do was think. So many things were now out of place in her world. Josef couldn’t be her father. How could anybody who could do something like that be someone’s father? Was her entire life a lie? Was that why her mother hated her? Why was Josef following her? Would she have existed if it weren’t for Josef? Her head was bursting with so many questions. The phone stopped ringing and the answer machine kicked into life. 183

“Morven? Morven I know you’re there.” Her mother’s voice mumbled through the tinny speaker. Morven put her hands over her ears and tried to block it out. “What have you done girl? Your father was beside himself. I just don’t know you. We give you all these chances and you just throw them back in our faces. Sometimes I could throttle you.” The line went quiet for a moment “This time you’ve just gone too far, you’re no daughter of mine.” Morven heard the words squeeze through her fingers. She felt rage and pain rising up through her body; she picked up a cushion and threw it at the phone, knocking it off the hook. She could just hear her mother repeating her name over and over again. It sounded like voices in her head scraping away at the inside of her skull. She walked over to the phone and pulled it out of its socket, the voice stopped. Morven collapsed onto the sofa, covered her head with a cushion and sobbed.

She didn’t know what time it was when she finally pulled her head out from under the cushion. It must have been a long time, it was dark. She could see the orange glow of the streetlights coming through the window and casting an eerie light on the ceiling.

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She sat upright and wiped her face, she made a private resolution to herself, those were the last tears she was going to shed. She pulled herself up off the sofa and closed the curtains. The flat fell into a hazy darkness; she nimbly glided in between the furniture and made her way to the bedroom. She drew the curtains and turned on the bedside light. She stood in the middle of the room in a sleepy daze and watched herself undress in the mirror. She noticed the bruise at the base of her back had spread, it looked like large butterfly wings in various different shades of purple. She nervously prodded herself, wincing as the pain shot up her back. She also noticed she had hundreds of scratches on her arms from falling out of the tree. She gingerly put on her pyjamas and climbed into bed. Her back felt hot and tingly against the covers. She fidgeted as she tried to get comfortable, she tried to think of the pain in her back, maybe if she concentrated hard enough she could stop thinking altogether. ☯

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The moon could be seen clearly in the afternoon sky, leaves fell from trees as a chill breeze drifted up the street. A lady and two children entered the house; the lady was laden with shopping bags. The two girls ran inside the house, their minds already on other things.

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No cars moved, the street was quiet apart from a few birds singing their hearts out on the rooftops. Getting into the house was easy; it doesn’t take a genius to pick a lock. A radio played in the kitchen, the children shouted as they played in the garden. The house was spotless, everything in its place. In the living room pictures filled the mantelpiece, father, mother and daughters all looked deliriously happy. A noise from another room, made things tense, had to be calm, had to go through with it. Think back, remember. Remember what this was all about. Deep breaths, no going back. She came into the room; she was less attractive close up. She froze, looked puzzled. Deep breaths, no going back. She let out a small whimper as she was grabbed; it took little effort to move her. Her face froze, it was as if she was trying to scream, but couldn’t manage it. Her clothes tore easily from her shoulders; she looked fragile and exposed. A feeling of revulsion was almost overwhelming as she was violated. She tried to look away, block everything out, but she was forced to look. A glance at the mirror revealed the full horror, a face full of tears and anger. Morven felt her blood run cold as she saw her own face staring back at her from the mirror. 186

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Her stomach retched, she vomited violently. She found herself wide awake in her own bed. The smell of fresh vomit filled her nostrils. She retched again, but only tears ran down her cheeks. She felt empty and alone. She couldn’t look down at herself, she felt ashamed. She gingerly climbed out of bed, she felt sore all over. She sniffed and bubbled as she tried to wash the acidic taste from her mouth when she reached the bathroom. She slowly peeled off her pyjamas as if they were contagious; a cold shiver ran up her spine. She turned on the shower; it would be quicker than her favoured bath, and hoped that the steaming hot water could wash away her pain.

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-CHAPTER SIXTEEN-

She watched as the washing machine span round. It had taken a while for her to pluck up the courage to remove the spoiled sheets from her bed. She found the low hum and the spinning drum almost hypnotic. She wished it was as easy to wash away the thoughts in her head. She looked round at the other lost souls in the laundrette, an old man who looked as if the clothes he was wearing should have been the ones he was washing, a tired looking woman who’d given up on trying to control her children and a young boy who looked as if he’d spent the night in the laundrette. She stared back at the machine when she saw that the young boy was watching her. She self-consciously scratched her head; these places always made her feel dirty. There was a perfectly good washing machine in the flat, but she knew that Charlie sometimes used this place. She just needed an excuse. “Any change missus?” Morven turned to look at the young boy, his face was dirty and grimy, his teeth yellow and broken, he smelt awful but there was a semblance of something behind his eyes.

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“Any spare change?” He repeated, his hand hovering before Morven’s face. Morven glanced away, trying to avoid eye contact. He moved round so that he stood in front of her. “C’mon, you must be loaded. Just a few pence, you can spare a few pence can’t you?” Morven tried to wish him away. She turned away again and stared at the floor. He moved and stood in front of her again, shoving his hand in her face again. “Is this guy bothering you?” Morven turned and saw Sam looking down at her. “I was just looking for some charity, y’know, something to keep us warm on these cold nights.” The boy backed away defensively. Sam reached into his pocket and held a note, the boy took it as quick as a flash. “Ta much mister.” His eyes shone as he looked at the note. He turned quickly, before the note could be taken back, and ran outside. “Thanks.” Morven smiled sheepishly. “S’alright, that’s my good deed for the day.” Sam sat down next to her “Don’t often see you in here?” “Some stuff needed doing and I had to get out of the flat, so I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.” Sam nodded, Morven nodded back. The silence felt a little awkward. “You’ve been away haven’t you?” 189

“Visiting family.” Morven looked at the floor and hoped he wouldn’t ask anymore. “You want to go a wander?” “Eh?” “Just a wee walk.” “What about my stuff?” “Leave it with Nancy, she’ll look after it for you.” Morven looked over at the counter; the woman leaned on her elbows staring out into space. She looked as if she’d rather be anywhere than here. “Excuse me.” Morven tried to gain her attention. Her eyes reluctantly finished staring at whatever it was they had fixated on and wearily switched their attention to Morven. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, black rings creased underneath them, her red hair was unwashed and clung to her head in a style that was surely unintentional. “Wot?” Morven recoiled from the stench that came from her mouth. “Could you… eh.” Morven hesitated. “Spit it out luv.” Saliva bubbled and flew from her mouth as she talked. “Could you look after my washing? I’ve just got to pop out.” The woman scratched at one of the rolls of fat on her side. She cocked her head to one side and looked Morven up and down.

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“She’s with me Nancy.” Morven felt Sam at her side; she looked at him and saw him flash a golden smile at Nancy. “Ah well then, it’d be a pleasure. Any friend of Samuel’s is a friend of mine.” The woman smiled and a grotesque hideous set of teeth came into view, she started to play with her hair with fat, nicotine stained fingers. “You’re a diamond Nancy.” Sam smiled again, put his arm round Morven and walked her out of the shop. Morven could have sworn she heard Nancy giggle as they left. “So where are we wandering to?” “There’s something I’d like to show you.”

Morven’s feet began to ache. She felt like she’d walked for miles. At the back of her mind something was nagging her that the laundrette couldn’t possibly have been local for Sam. She resisted the urge to ask if they were nearly there yet. It reminded her of being a kid and traipsing round the shops after her mother and sisters. She let out a giggle then stopped as she remembered they weren’t even her sisters now. “What’s up?” Sam stopped. “Nothing.” Morven waved her hand with a dismissive gesture. “We’re nearly there now.” Morven didn’t even find it remotely funny. 191

Ahead of them Morven could see a tunnel, the odd car raced in and out of it. Sam kept walking into the tunnel, Morven stopped. “Where you going?” She shouted. “It’s just in here, c’mon.” He turned back and shouted. “I’m not going in there, it’s skanky. It smells of piss.” Morven stood her ground. “It’s all right honest.” Sam walked back to her and put his arm round her “You can hold your breath.” Morven looked at his smiling face, his eyes seemed to pierce her soul, she couldn’t say no. They both walked into the tunnel, water dripped from above. The odd car roared past them, their engines magnified, missing them by inches as they walked along the thin walkway. “Just in here.” Sam stopped at a small doorway cut into the wall of the tunnel; a narrow set of steps disappeared up into the gloom. “Where does that go?” Morven looked at Sam for reassurance. “Come and see.” Sam ducked and went up the stairs. Morven paused, she checked up and down the tunnel; there was nobody in sight. She swallowed deeply and followed Sam. The darkness closed around her quickly, she nervously felt her way up the stairs. She could hear Sam moving with confidence above her. Her foot caught one of the steps and she clattered to her knees letting out a small yelp. “You all right?” Sam shouted down. “Fine.” She mumbled “It’s bloody dark.” 192

“Hold on a sec.” Morven looked up and was suddenly dazzled by a bright light. She could see Sam outlined in a doorway, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. The stone steps came into view, the dank brick walls. She looked at her hands; they were covered in dirt. “Come on.” Sam shouted down. Morven wiped her hands together and got to her feet, she easily climbed the last of the stairs. “Welcome to my home.” Sam theatrically pushed the door wider. Morven gingerly stepped inside. “What do you think?” The space seemed vast after the cramped stairs. There was a bank of old control panels covered in grey metal dials and switches against one of the walls, the floor was highly polished, it looked almost like marble. There was an expensive and sophisticated hi-fi system and thousands of CD’s. Three beat-up, but very comfortable looking, sofas were grouped round a huge telly. A row of beads hung from the ceiling blocking off part of the room, which Morven couldn’t see into. The best part, though, was the view. A large window ran the length of the room and stretching out before them was the river and the city looking like a scene from the most perfect movie. “What is this place?” Morven stared out of the window. “It’s my home.” “But what was it before?” 193

“It used to be the control room for the river traffic. Bridges, flood controls that sort of thing. Until they computerised it all.” “How did you find out about it?” “Oh we kept it in the family.” “Eh?” “My Dad used to work here, until they made them all redundant.” “And what, you just moved in when they went away?” “Something like that. They couldn’t exactly knock the place down could they?” “So what, you’re squatting here?” “I’m more sort of the unofficial night watchman.” “So it’s a squat then.” “I suppose it is, but look at it. Have you ever seen a squat like this?” Morven looked round the place again and nodded. “I knew you’d like it.” Sam’s smile went from ear to ear. Morven walked over to the wall with all the dials and switches. “So what’s this lot then?” “In another life they were pressure gauges.” Sam’s voice sounded distant and slightly muffled. Morven turned round, but couldn’t see him anywhere. “Sam?” There was no reply.

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“C’mon Sam, stop playing silly buggers.” Morven could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, she felt like she was being watched. She walked through the beaded doorway. The walls were covered with photographs, black and white, and colour. All people in the street, walking to work, lost in their own little worlds. Morven stared at them, running her fingers across them as if they were the answer to an impossible puzzle. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up again. She span round quickly, Sam stood before her, his head cocked to one side. She couldn’t be sure if he was smiling or not. He came towards her, she felt herself tense, he reached out his hands and held her arms. Morven could feel the strength in his grip. He pulled her towards him, she tried to back away, but she felt the wall hard against her back. He leaned forward and kissed her. At first all Morven could feel was shock, but then slowly she let her guard down and kissed him back. “I’m sorry.” He broke away “I didn’t mean to be presumptuous.” “Don’t be. It was… nice.” Morven struggled to find the words. Nice was the only one that came into her head, and it was wholly inadequate. It felt as if her body was surging with electricity. Suddenly everything seemed vibrant, bright and new. “What are you smiling at?” “I didn’t know I was.” Morven felt herself turn red. “You look like the cat that got the cream.” 195

“Let’s just say I was pleasantly surprised.” “Good, I’m glad.” Morven could feel herself getting even redder, she felt like a giddy schoolgirl. She forced herself to keep her mouth shut in case she spoiled it all and the wrong words came tumbling out. “Penny for them?” “Eh, what?” Morven blurted. “You drifted off there.” “Sorry, I was miles away.” Morven nervously bit her bottom lip. “Do you want to talk about it?” “Well it’s just that… I dunno, have you ever felt out of place?” “What, here?” “No, I mean in general. Like you had no control over things, as if the rug’s been pulled from under you and everything’s changed.” “Sounds a bit deep for me.” “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… My head’s just a mess right now.” Sam looked at her quizzically, as if he was trying to work out what was going on in her head. “I should go. I’ve got to arrange stuff for work.” Morven walked back out through the beaded doorway. “I thought you were on holiday.” Sam followed her. “Some holiday.” Morven sniffed under her breath. “At least let me give you a lift to your flat.” “It’s all right the walk will do me good.” Without looking back at Sam she made for the stairs. 196

The sun was high in the sky and made her squint as she came out of the murk of the tunnel. She pulled her coat tight round her and tried to keep warm, her breath came out in wisps of smoke. She felt a pang of guilt as she looked back at the tunnel. She half expected to see Sam following after her, and was slightly disappointed when she saw that he wasn’t.

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-CHAPTER SEVENTEEN-

Morven looked up at the hospital building from the safety of her car. It had seemed like a good idea to go to work when she woke up. Now she wasn’t so sure. For a place that she’d been going to every morning for the last five years it now seemed strangely unfamiliar. She eventually plucked up the courage and climbed out of the car. The entrance to the hospital looked like a wide open angry mouth, the sun reflecting off the glass doors made it look like razor sharp teeth. No heads turned as she signed in at reception, she was disappointed, but not surprised. The corridors smelt of antiseptic and bleach, the fluorescent lights made everybody look an unhealthy yellow colour. As she made her way down one corridor a woman came out of a side room, her face red and contorted, tears streaming from her eyes and an animal like wailing noise coming from deep within. A young nurse came out of the room and tried to comfort the woman, but she was shrugged away. The rejection seemed to hurt the nurse; she glanced at Morven as she passed. Morven averted her gaze and stared at the floor. She didn’t look up until she’d pushed her way through some swing doors and was certain they’d closed behind her. 198

The door to Frank’s office was up ahead. She stood outside it as if awaiting punishment from the headmaster. She raised her hand, about to knock, but then she hesitated. An unknown fear gripped her body, she couldn’t move. She felt herself covered in a cold sweat, her heart was racing. She felt sick. She couldn’t understand, it was only Frank after all. She swallowed hard and tried to control herself as she felt her legs weaken. She leaned against the door for support, then her world went black as she fell to the floor. ☯

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The ground underneath her felt wet and sticky. All around her it was dark, she rubbed her eyes, but it made no difference. A wind sprang up, getting steadily stronger. A deep wailing noise was carried by the wind, getting louder and louder as the wind got stronger. A light in the distance illuminated things; she looked at her hands covered in blood. Her heart was pounding, the wind got stronger, the wailing louder, the light brighter. She could see hundreds of eyes blinking at her at the edge of the light. The wailing got louder, the wind stronger. She knew she had to move.

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She rolled to one side and held her head, clamping her eyes shut as something huge passed over her. She opened here eyes and found herself in a dress shop staring at herself in the mirror. Her reflection looked back at her, it’s eyes wide with terror, every inch of her covered in blood. Her reflection held out its arms and seemed to be pleading for help. Voices repeated her name over and over again. She closed her eyes and clamped her hands over her ears, but it didn’t make any difference. Still the voices came at her over and over again. She wanted to lash out, to stop them, tear their tongues out if she had to, but she was too afraid to open her eyes. It was now or never. She opened her eyes. ☯

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“Morven? Morven? Are you all right?” Frank stood over her, looking like a concerned father. It took a moment for Morven to realise where she was. She squirmed, as she tried to ease her aching back, against the cushions that supported her. “Don’t try to get up.” Frank handed her a glass of water. She took a small sip.

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“You gave me quite a scare. I came back from a meeting and found you sprawled on the floor outside my office. I had to get Sam to help carry you in.” “Sam? Is he here?” She tried to look round. “No. He left.” Morven sank back against the cushions. “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” Frank pulled up a chair “Things go all right with your father?” “Kind of.” Morven mumbled after a moments hesitation. “You don’t sound so sure.” Morven looked round the room, the walls were cluttered with box files, a drawer hung open on the filing cabinet, loads of papers were strewn over the desk. The blinds on the window were broken, only one side worked as they sat at a funny angle. The desk calendar showed the wrong date. Morven looked at her feet at the other end of the sofa, she noticed that Frank had taken off her Doc Martens and placed them against the wall, or maybe it had been Sam? “Tell me to shut up if you want.” “No, it’s all right.” Morven paused “If it’s out in the open maybe it’ll stop eating me up inside. All I’ve been doing is thinking and that only makes things worse.” “You know what they say, a problem shared is a problem halved.” Frank tried to smile sympathetically; he just looked as if he was passing wind. 201

Morven looked at him to try and work out if he was being sincere. Frank shifted his weight from side to side as he struggled to look casual on the chair that was obviously too small for him. “It is, after all, what I’m here for. As your boss I’m supposed to be able to counsel members of the team when such situations come along.” Frank desperately tried to remember what the management training manuals had said about things like this. “Well, you know my father was ill?” Morven started. Frank nodded and tried to look suitably understanding. “There were other things I found out as well.” There was a sharp knock on the door; both of them simultaneously let out a gasp of relief. “Come in.” Frank turned to face the door. The door opened slightly and Sam put his head round. “Sam, good to see you.” Frank momentarily forgot to hide his relief, he shot Morven a nervous glance, but she was pretending not to notice. “How is she?” “She’s fine, speak with her yourself. I’m sure she’ll be glad of the company.” Frank virtually shot out of the chair. Before either of them could say anything Frank had closed the door behind him and was halfway down the corridor. “Was it something I said?” Sam smiled. Morven felt better for just seeing his smile.

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“Hey that’s what I like to see, a smile.” Sam sat down on Frank’s vacated chair. “I must look like shit.” Morven watched his every movement like a hawk, trying to set it all to memory. “No more than usual.” There was no trace of a smile this time. Morven glowered at him. “Joke.” He held up his hands and threw back his head, letting out a loud booming laugh. Morven found it infectious and laughed as well. “I knew you had it in you.” “What?” “A beautiful laugh. You look so different when you do.” Morven started to blush. “My god there is blood inside you.” “Shut it.” Morven pulled one of the cushions from behind her and threw it at him. “I take it I’ve gone too far?” Sam ducked under the cushion. “Yes.” Morven folded her arms dramatically across her chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset the patient.” Sam leaned forward and kissed Morven on the forehead. Morven felt as if she was going to faint again. She could feel her blood racing around every inch of her body, her heart was pounding. “What’ve I done wrong this time?” Sam looked down at Morven’s flushed face. 203

“Nothing.” Morven managed to force the words out. Sam started to pull away. “C’mere you.” Morven grabbed him and pulled him onto the sofa. She didn’t even think, she just started kissing him. Her hands ran through his hair, she could feel his hands pulling up her jumper. “Should we be doing this?” She heard him whisper “What if Frank comes back?” She didn’t even bother to reply, she pulled him closer and whispered his name into his ear.

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-CHAPTER EIGHTEEN-

“Do you want a drink, or something to eat?” Morven called from the kitchen. Sam studied the photographs on the wall. “I said do you want a drink?” Sam was startled as Morven appeared at his side. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.” Morven put her hand on his shoulder and gently stroked his neck. “Coffee would be fine.” Sam carried on starring at the photographs. Morven walked back to the kitchen and turned on the kettle. She couldn’t believe her luck, she felt like a different person. Sam had offered to give her a lift home, small talk in the car had been difficult, but her heart missed a beat when he agreed to come up to the flat. “Did you take all of these?” She watched Sam as he spoke; he didn’t turn away from the wall. He was transfixed by one particular picture. “Yes. Do you like them?” She held her breathe in trepidation. She always hated asking anyone that question, there was always an element of fear that someone would tell her they were rubbish and she should give up.

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“They’re…” Morven could feel a large knot of anxiety grow in her stomach “… amazing.” The knot evaporated. “This one here?” Morven came back with two mugs of coffee; Sam was pointing at one of the photographs. Morven stood next to him to see which one. A young girl of about twelve stared back at them, her face deadly serious, her eyes filled with experience way beyond her years. Her long blonde hair billowing behind her, giving her the appearance of falling. “Where did you find her?” Sam stepped closer. “Just walking the streets. She came up to me and asked me what I was doing, and asked if I’d take her picture. At the exact moment I took it the wind picked up, made her hair go like that. I only got one shot, she ran off the moment I’d taken it.” “She looks like an angel.” Sam sounded as if he was miles away. Morven looked at him; he was gazing intently at the photograph, mouthing silent words to himself. She thought it was a bit weird, but part of her thought it was cute. Sam finally blinked and tore himself away, then looked straight at her. “I didn’t mean to stare.” Morven blurted. “It’s all right, I’ll take it as a compliment.” He smiled his winning smile.

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Morven felt butterflies rise in her stomach, she felt short of breath. “I’m just nipping to the toilet. Won’t be a sec.” Morven could feel herself blush as she left, she hoped Sam hadn’t noticed. She locked the door behind her and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. The face that stared back at her was not the one she was used to seeing. Her cheeks were flushed red, her forehead glistened, her neck was blotchy and her eyes sparkled. She turned on the cold water and splashed some on her face. She couldn’t understand why she was feeling like this. “It’s only Sam for fucksake.” She snarled at her reflection. Her reflection gave her no clues; it just stared right back at her. “You’re no bloody good.” She dried her face off and walked back out. Sam was over by the hi-fi rifling through her CD collection, he had his back to her and a Portishead CD in his hand. She watched him, as he was blissfully unaware that she was in the room. He went from the CD’s to the single bookshelf next to the window. Morven nearly jumped out of her skin when the intercom buzzer rang. “Expecting someone?” Sam turned round; he had one eyebrow raised higher than the other. “Not that I know of.” Morven shrugged.

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“You’d better answer it then, you don’t want to keep them waiting.” Morven walked over to the intercom phone and answered it. “Hello?” “Morven! Thank god you’re in.” Charlie’s voice blared through the phone “I’ve been trying for ages.” “I’ve been away.” Normally Morven would have loved Charlie to come round, he was the one person she could talk to, but she didn’t know how he’d react to Sam. “Are you going to let me in then? I’ve got loads to tell you.” Morven pressed the buzzer. “Who was it?” Sam had put the CD back. “Charlie.” “A friend?” “Yeah.” Morven wanted to say it was her best friend, but somehow it didn’t come out like that. Sam picked his jacket off the sofa and put it on. “You don’t have to go.” “No it’s all right, I don’t want to intrude.” “You won’t be.” “You’re too kind.” Sam kissed Morven gently on the cheek. Morven stopped in her tracks, while Sam strode over to the door. “See you soon.” Sam opened the door; he passed Charlie, who was just coming up the final flight of stairs. 208

Morven finally reached the door. She couldn’t see Sam, but she did see Charlie grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Who was he? He’s a dish.” “Hands off he’s mine.” Morven felt warm inside as she spoke, it felt right. “Looks like you’ve got some gossip of your own to tell, I can’t wait to hear it.” Charlie put his arm round Morven and guided her back into the flat “But first you’ve got to hear mine.” Morven didn’t have time to think let alone speak; Charlie sat her down on the sofa while he went to the kitchen. “Where do you keep your booze?” He shouted. “Top cupboard on the left, next to the cooker.” “Excellent.” Morven could hear Charlie clatter about in the cupboards. “There’s some glasses on the draining board.” “Excellent.” Charlie came back through a moment of two later, carrying a tray with two glasses and two bottles of vodka; one unopened the other half full. “You planing on making a night of it?” “Wait till you’ve heard my news.” “Well come on then, out with it.” “Oh you dirty sod, I never knew you thought of me that way.” “Charlie.” Morven reprimanded him, but could feel herself blushing. 209

“What.” Charlie tried to sound all innocent. Morven sniggered despite herself. “You know that job I was going for? The one you were supposed to be doing the photos for.” “Ah yeah, about that…” Charlie held up his hand to stop her. “Anyway.” Charlie carried on talking “I didn’t get the job, but I met this guy…” Morven sat and watched Charlie, the words flying out ten to the dozen, his hands waving all over the place as he got more and more exited, but Morven couldn’t hear a word, her mind was in another pace. All she could think about was Josef and how so much hatred could build up in a person, so much so that it could eat away at them, destroying their humanity, from the inside out. Until eventually they lost all control and reason. She knew she was hurting inside, but she didn’t hate Josef or her father, she felt nothing towards them. “… and then this guy came up to me while I was there, you should’ve seen him.” Charlie was still going on, his arms flapping, his face getting redder. “My Dad’s not my Dad.” Morven delivered the line mater of factly, without any emotion. “And then… What?” Charlie froze mid sentence. “My Dad’s not my real Dad.” Morven looked Charlie straight in the eye “That’s what I found out while I was away.” 210

“You’re kidding me, right?” “No honestly, he sat there in his wheelchair in the hospital gardens and just came straight out with it. No messing, nothing.” “And you believed him?” “Why would he lie about something like that?” “Maybe it was the drugs? You did say he’s been pretty ill.” “I know what I heard Charlie, and he sounded pretty damn lucid to me.” “Have you talked to your mum about it?” “Me and mum talk?” Morven spat “That’s a laugh.” “So did he tell you who you’re real parents are, or have you got to get in touch with agencies, or something, to do that for you?” “Eh?” Morven cocked her head to one side. “Well that’s what they do for adoptions, in’it?” You have to get permission first.” “I’m not adopted.” “But I thought you said?” “My mum’s my real mum, worst luck. It’s my Dad he’s…” Morven trailed off, she wanted to cry. “So your mum had an affair, so what, it happens all the time.” “She was raped.” Morven spoke in a barely audible whisper, all the while staring at the floor. Charlie tried not to stare open-mouthed, but he couldn’t help it. “She was raped by my Dad’s best friend.” Morven’s shoulders started to shudder, then the tears rushed down her face. 211

Charlie reached forward and held her, gently cradling her head on his shoulder. He gently stroked her hair as her sobbing wracked her body. Sounds that were neither words nor sobs came out of her mouth. Charlie kept cradling her until eventually she pulled away. Her eyes were red; trails of grey grime where her tears had been ran across her cheeks. Her lips trembled slightly as she fought to control herself. “You okay?” Morven could only nod; she didn’t want to speak in case she lost control. “You want a drink? Coffee or something?” Morven nodded, she watched as Charlie strode to the kitchen. She could hear the kettle as it boiled, she tried to picture the steam rising, the wisps curling and forming the shape of peoples faces, but the only face that would form before the steam broke was her father’s. “So what are you going to do?” Charlie’s voice came from the kitchen and broke the spell. “I don’t know.” Morven could hear the kettle switch off. “It’s not as if it changes who you are. You’re still you and your mum and Dad are still your mum and Dad. They instilled in you their values, they are what makes you what you are.” “But it changes everything. My childhood is a lie, my parents are a lie, and my sisters are a lie. My whole life is now a lie.” 212

“How is it?” Charlie came back carrying two steaming mugs of coffee “Do you love your sisters less?” Morven stared at him. “Well do you?” “I… I don’t know.” Morven held her head in her hands. “Of course you don’t. They haven’t done anything to you, it’s not their fault.” “But they’re not my sisters.” “They are.” “They’re not.” “Okay, they’re your half-sisters now, but does that change them? They’d still be there for you.” “But that doesn’t make me feel any better.” Morven took a coffee mug from Charlie. “Is this all this is, self pity?” Charlie’s words sounded harsh, they washed over Morven like a wave breaking on rocks. “No.” She seemed hesitant and looked up from her coffee “its not self pity. There’s part of me missing, all that’s there is a great big hole and a thousand questions.” “Like what?” “I was brought into this world through anger and malice. I wasn’t wanted. My mother’s made that perfectly clear to me over the years. I don’t know what love is, I’ve never experienced true love.” “What about your Dad? He loves you.”

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“Does he? He made a choice in his life, he chose to ignore revenge, to make it no longer count. By loving me he stopped it from being an act of revenge. The more he loved me, the more it didn’t matter. He wasn’t loving me, he was loving his best friend, Josef.” Morven’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the coffee mug. Her jaw tightening as she fought back the tears and let anger take over. Morven could tell by looking at Charlie’s face that she’d shocked him, but she wasn’t about to take it back, she felt better for saying it. She was glad it was out there, all the emotions she’d bottled up were now free, it was as if a weight had been lifted off her. “So what are you going to do now, never see your family again?” Charlie had regathered his thoughts. Morven hadn’t thought that far ahead. “You’re going to make them suffer for your own pigheadidness.” “No.” Morven felt as if her head was spinning, she’d only just started to deal with one thing, but now she realised that others were involved as well. Whatever she did there would be fall out “I don’t know.” “You need to sort things out in here first.” Charlie tapped the side of his head “Before you can do anything else.” “Why can’t anything be simple? Why can’t life be black and white?” “But life’s not like one of your pictures. It’s made up of thousands of them, each running into the other. Each with their own 214

questions and answers. Only none of us know what the question is until it’s too late.” “You know Charlie, that nearly sounded intelligent.” Morven smirked. “I know I even impressed myself. I’ll have to remember that one, you never know, it might come in handy again.” “Why, how many sad cases do you let cry on your shoulder?” “Oh that’d be telling love.”

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-CHAPTER NINETEEN-

Morven had to admit to herself that she actually felt pretty good. Maybe it was the fact that she’d finally had a good night’s sleep, the first one in ages. Her head felt a lot calmer, there weren’t as many things racing around. She’d sorted a lot out, her chat with Charlie seemed to have acted like an exorcism, a lot of the bad thoughts had gone. As she stuffed her clothes into her locker she found herself whistling, maybe she was ready to face the world. “Someone’s happy.” Morven turned to face Callum, who was leaning against the sink. “And why not?” Morven smiled. “It’s just not like you.” “You saying I’m miserable?” Morven strode over to Callum and stood about an inch away from his face. “No… it’s just.” The words struggled out of Callum’s mouth. Morven laughed loudly and ruffled his hair. “Christ, whatever Sam’s been doing to you he should do it more often.” Normally she would’ve reacted to a remark like that, but this time she just winked.

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As she left she could virtually hear the noise of Callum’s jaw dropping She smiled to herself as she walked down the corridor, nodding and saying hello to people she’d never even seen before. “Morning.” She chimed loudly as she pushed the doors to the mortuary open and walked through the flickering fluorescent light. “Morven?” Dr Haldane looked up from the body on the table; he peered at her over his spectacles. “The one and only.” She beamed from ear to ear. “Have you taken something?” Haldane growled with his usual charm. “No, I’m fine. Why? Am I not allowed to be happy in the morning?” “It’s just not like you.” Haldane turned his attention back to the body. Morven looked down at her white wellingtons, the baggy green trousers poking out of them. She suddenly felt stupid and was glad there weren’t any mirrors. Doubt started to crack through her new smiley façade. Why was she so cheery? God knows she didn’t have much reason to be. She tried to push the thoughts to the back of her mind. “Seeing as you’re here could you take a few shots of this?” Haldane’s voice broke her thoughts. Morven shuffled over to where the cameras were stored in the large unlocked cupboard at the far end of the mortuary. 217

Morven set the large bulky camera up and turned back. Lying in front of her on the table was a very large man, his stomach rising up like a mountain of fat. His large podgy fists were still clenched as if he was bracing himself for something he’d never be ready for. His skin was grey like alabaster, with patches of small purple veins crisscrossing his entire body. “So what happened to him?” Morven brought the camera over and stood next to Haldane. “James Stewart, 47, died of a heart attack.” Haldane read from his notes. “So what’s he doing here if it’s natural causes?” “He was driving an articulated lorry at the time, ploughed right through the front window of a shop.” “Bloody hell.” “Luckily no one else was hurt.” “Someone up there must’ve been looking out for them.” Morven looked upwards. “Sadly they seemed to have missed our Mr Stewart.” “Mmm.” Morven focused the camera on the man’s face “He’s nothing like his namesake.” “Sorry?” “You know. Jimmy Stewart.” “The actor?” “Do you know any other Jimmy Stewart?”

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Haldane huffed and turned his attention back to a tray of implements. Morven smiled to herself and started taking pictures. She noticed the stubble on his chin just starting to show through, she imagined him shaving the day before. Maybe it was for a job interview or even a date? Callum interrupted her thoughts, clattering through the doors with another trolley. “No rest for the wicked, eh?” He chirped as he brought the trolley to rest next to them. “Not another one?” Haldane sighed. “Aye. A drowning I think they said this one was.” Callum dramatically pulled back the green cloth to reveal a young woman, her skin a pale greyish blue. “Must you do that?” Haldane looked over his glasses at Callum. Callum shrugged. “You finish up on this one and I’ll start on this.” Haldane turned to Morven. Morven nodded and carried on taking pictures. The man’s eyes were shut and there was tension across his face as if he were still gritting his teeth. Morven focused on his chest, which had a large gaping wound from the post mortem; most of his internal organs had been removed and placed in individual trays on a side table. “Do you want shots of the organs?” 219

“Just the heart, it’s the only one that matters.” Morven moved over to the table, she felt like she was looking in a butcher’s window. She turned the heart over slightly; revealing what looked like a large black stain on one side. As she took a few shots she couldn’t believe that a simple piece of muscle could cause so much trouble. “Once you’re finished over there.” Haldane looked up. “No problem.” Morven took one final shot and came over next to Haldane. “Could you take a shot of this, there seems to be something stuck in her throat.” Haldane pulled down on the woman’s chin with his thumb. Morven peered through the viewfinder. She tried not to gag as a feted smell came up as if from the deep. Stuck deep in her throat was what looked like weeds. Haldane reached down into her throat with a pair of tweezers. “It’s more than just weeds, it’s something bigger.” Haldane’s face turned red with strain. Morven kept taking pictures until eventually Haldane managed to pull the blockage free. “What is it?” Haldane brushed the weeds off it. “It’s wool of some sort.” He slowly unravelled it to reveal a sock. “Eeuch!” Morven screwed up her face. “Looks like a size nine.” 220

“What’s this, some sort of striptease?” Callum came back in pushing another trolley. “It came from the girl.” “Doesn’t look like her style.” “It was pushed down her throat if you must know.” Haldane sighed. “Another murder. It’s getting so the streets aren’t safe anymore.” “Aye well the sooner you’re under lock and key the safer we’ll all feel.” Morven curled her lip theatrically. “Oooooh hark at her.” Callum stuck his tongue out. Haldane placed the sock carefully into a brown paper bag. “You finished with the big man?” Callum nodded at the other corpse. “For now.” Haldane scribbled his signature on a few forms and handed them to Callum. “You going to the canteen for lunch?” Callum turned to Morven. “Don’t know.” She shrugged. “Why don’t you just take your break now, I’ll finish up here.” “You sure?” Haldane nodded.

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Morven entered the canteen, it was quite busy. Callum was already at a table, with two young student nurses chattering away to him. She wondered what it was they saw in him, she couldn’t see it. She grabbed a tray and joined the queue. She was faced by an array of pre-prepared meals, all wrapped in cling film. The people in front of her were avidly pointing and prodding various dishes. Morven decided to play it safe and chose a packet of sandwiches, an apple and a banana. There wasn’t much they could do wrong with the fruit, and the sandwiches were bought in, so they were safe. She paid at the till, where the woman was a little bit too cheery than was strictly necessary. Probably borderline depressive, hiding it all behind her smile, Morven berated herself inside for having such a vicious thought. She tried to walk past the table Callum and the student nurses were at, but he caught her. “Here Morven I’ve saved a seat for you.” He pushed the seat opposite him out with his foot. “You’re too kind.” She said through gritted teeth. One of the nurses giggled as Morven sat down. Instantly she could feel herself turning red as she thought the giggle was directed at her. “So how’s the most talented member of the dead squad?” Callum leaned forward, putting his weight on his elbows. Morven cocked her head to one side and furrowed her brow. “What?” Callum feigned a look of innocence. 222

“Why are you being nice to me?” She returned Callum’s gaze with a steely stare. One of the student nurses giggled again, Morven shot her a glance that stopped her mid giggle. “Well?” She turned back to Callum. “Frank told me to.” He tried to look everywhere but at her. “What? Does he think I need a babysitter now?” “He said that after your Dad and then you fainting…” “Does everybody know then?” The student nurses looked puzzled, as if they’d been left out of a private joke. “We just thought we should be there for you.” Callum looked genuinely hurt. “Read that in one of you lads mags did you?” Morven stood up. “Morven, you’re making a scene.” Callum mumbled as people’s heads turned to see what was going on. “Sometimes Callum, you’re fucking stupid.” Morven waved the banana at him. Morven could hear people muttering as she walked off. Callum made a show of shrugging and shaking his head as if he hadn’t a clue what was going on.

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Morven found herself at the fire escape overlooking the carpark. She sat down on the metal step and fidgeted nervously with the banana. She had no idea how much time had past when she felt a presence at her back. She turned and was pleased to see Sam standing behind her. He sat down beside her. “You realise this was the first place we met.” He smiled. “We should stop meeting like this, people will start to talk.” “Let them.” He put his arm round her and pulled her close. Morven felt instantly safer. “How do you fancy going back to your place?” “I’d love to, but I’ve got work to do.” “Stuff it.” “Eh?” “Sod work, who’s going to notice. It’s about time you thought of yourself for a change.” “You’re on. I just need to change.” “Why?” “Look at me, these scrubs are hardly the height of fashion.” “Oh I don’t know, I find you kind of sexy in them.” Morven giggled, she felt girlie, she felt attractive, she felt safe, she felt alive. “Come on then.” She stood up and they both raced down the fire escape to the carpark. 224

The door of the flat burst open, nearly coming off its hinges. The wall shook as the door hit it. Morven and Sam were all ready all over each other. She kicked the door closed and they collapsed onto the sofa. Morven clawed at his clothes, her fingers scrabbling for the buttons on his shirt. She managed to unfasten a couple then he raised his arms and pulled the shirt up over his head, then threw it on the floor. They broke apart momentarily as Sam took off his trousers, Morven slide easily out of the green scrubs. They embraced. Morven could feel his heart beating against her breasts. She felt a tingle on her back as his fingertips gently caressed her spine. She gave a small involuntary gasp as she felt him inside her.

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-CHAPTER TWENTY-

They say time passes faster when you’re enjoying yourself. Morven looked up at the window as she lay on the sofa; Sam still curled like a small child in her arms. Outside she could see the full moon in the sky, its silvery light shinning through the clouds illuminating everything with ghostly effect. She played lovingly with his hair as she could feel his breath brushing across her. Looking down at him she wondered if he was dreaming of her. He groaned slightly and shifted his weight; Morven took the opportunity to slide out from under him. She picked up her crumpled scrubs and took them to the kitchen. She flung them in a basket with all the rest of her dirty laundry, and then she set about making some coffee. She watched the street outside, bathed in a mixture of the moon’s silvery glow and the harsh orange light of the streetlights, a small dog basked in the spotlight, it barked at something only it could see. Then it turned, as if looking up at Morven, and sauntered off. The kettle clicked off and Morven prepared two cups of coffee. She walked back to the front room and placed one of the cups on the table in front of the sofa. She kept her own and sat on the arm of the sofa, cradling the cup in her hands savouring the smell as the steam caressed her face. 226

Sam groaned and shifted his weight again; Morven sat and watched him. His chest moved slowly and rhythmically, his eyes darted from side to side behind his tightly shut lids. He moaned in his sleep and moved restlessly, struggling in his own dream world. Morven felt a shiver down her spine, the room momentarily dropped in temperature, and she hugged her coffee closer.

The sun shone brightly through the window, its shadow creeping slowly further into the room. Morven felt its slight heat on her toes; she stretched, yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She didn’t remember falling asleep again. The coffee cup nestled gently on her lap, now empty. She looked across the sofa, there was no sign of Sam or his clothes, it was as if he’d never even existed. She got up and went to the bathroom; she put on her bathrobe and searched the flat. There was no sign of Sam. She slumped back down on the sofa and stared at the coffee cup, which was still full, in exactly the same place she’d left it. She crossed her arms tightly around herself and could feel her mood steadily darken. He couldn’t even say goodbye, just upped and left. It must’ve been her; she must’ve done something to put him off. 227

She looked across at the clock and saw that she was late for work. She heaved herself off the sofa as if it had a magnetic field that was trying to pull her back. She managed to break free of its grip and shuffled to the bedroom. She dressed herself in her usual black then pulled her scrubs out of the laundry basket and stuffed them into her bag. She collected her keys and left the flat.

Her mood darkened as she drove, she put on a tape to match her mood. Bob Mould roared out of the speakers, loud, angry and fast. She sang along at the top of her lungs, not giving a damn what anybody thought. She drew up in the hospital car park, her mood nearly forgotten. She waited until the track finished and then she turned off the engine. As she sat in the car she looked up at the hospital, just at that moment Sam walked along the glass corridor that linked the mortuary to the rest of the hospital. She was convinced he’d seen her, but he didn’t acknowledge her. He fidgeted with a large vanilla envelope under his arm and carried on walking. Morven shook her head and climbed out of the car. She walked, head down, into the hospital hoping that nobody would talk to her. 228

Somehow she made it, all the way to the darkroom, and not one person had stopped her. There had been a couple of close calls, but she just put her head down and walked faster, pretending she hadn't heard them calling. Now she stood at the door to the darkroom, the corridor was deserted all she could hear was the low hum from the strip lighting above her head. It was an eerie silence; the hospital never usually made her feel alone. She opened the door and stepped inside, as the door closed behind her the hum stopped. The red light above the door to the darkroom was off; telling her it was safe to enter. She slid the door open; it clattered loudly on its runners as she closed it behind her. She looked at a few of the pictures that were hanging up to dry. She recognised the fat man from yesterday and the shots of the sock they’d found in the drowned woman’s mouth. She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing, so she reached into one of the cupboards at her feet and took out a cloth and some spray. She soaked the counters with the spray and started scrubbing with all her might. She went round the whole place until it was completely spotless and her hands were red raw. She looked at her fingers as she tidied away the cloth, the skin was torn off her middle and index finger and there were blisters on the other fingers. She couldn’t feel any pain. She looked up at the clock and was amazed to see the time. Without looking back she walked out and headed home. 229

She slumped down on the sofa and put on the telly; it was some mindnumbing game show with a host that had an unnaturally large smile. She didn’t care; she didn’t want to think. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there, or how long she’d been asleep, but she was woken by a knock at the door. At first she thought she was dreaming, but the knock at the door came again, this time more insistent. She pulled herself to her feet and went and opened the door. She was shocked and failed to hold back a gasp as she stood face to face with her mother. “Where’ve you been, I’ve been ringing for days. I got them to check the line, but they said there was nothing wrong with it. It just kept ringing and ringing, you wouldn’t answer.” Her face turned bright red; she hardly paused for breath as all the words came tumbling out. Her eyes were bloodshot as if she’d been crying. “There’s nothing wrong with the phone.” Morven picked it up and put the receiver to her ear, the line was dead. She looked down at the phone and could see the wire disconnected from the wall. “Sorry mum.” She put her hand to her mouth as she realised she hadn’t reconnected it from the last time she called. That seemed like a lifetime away.

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Morven looked at her mother for the first time and saw she looked in a bit of a state. “What is it mum? C’mere sit down.” She took her over to the sofa. Morven switched off the telly. “Are you all right? Can I get you anything?” Morven had never seen her mother like this, normally she made a huge thing about her appearance, plastering herself in make up, desperate to fight off the signs of ageing, but now her hair was scruffy and out of place, her face was grey and looked as if she’d aged twenty years and her jacket was buttoned up wrongly. “I don’t know how to tell you this.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “Tell me what?” Morven felt like she wanted to grab her mother and shake it out of her. “Your Dad’s dead.” She stared straight at Morven waiting for a response. Morven felt numb, she just stared straight at her mother. “Did you hear me?” Morven just stared unblinkingly into space. “Morven, did you hear me?” “’Course I fucking heard you!” Morven snapped. She could feel tears welling up, but she fought hard to keep them back. “It’s all right love.” Her mother came forward and put her arms round her. 231

Morven went stiff, she felt like recoiling, running away and hiding. “The funeral’s the day after tomorrow.” She heard her mother say into her ear. Morven pulled out of her mother’s grip. “You will come wont you? You know he’d want you to be there.” “I… I…” The words stuck in Morven’s throat “We argued before I left.” “He knew you didn’t mean it.” “But I said some horrible things.” “He’d forgiven you the moment you said them. You were always his favourite.” Morven stared at her mother; she wanted to tell her she knew. She knew everything. But now wasn’t the time. “Of course I’ll come.” Was all she said.

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-CHAPTER TWENTY ONE-

The journey back was not a happy one. Morven’s mother was driving, not a word was said between them. Morven was desperate to turn on the radio; she would have listened to anything, just so long as it stopped her thinking. Her mother just stared straight ahead never seeming to blink. They arrived at the house in the dark. Morven half expected a welcoming committee, but thankfully the house was deserted. “You know where your room is.” Her mother spoke her first words in ages. Morven took her small bag she’d packed and headed upstairs. She hadn’t brought much with her, she hoped she wouldn’t have to stay long. She stood in the dark of her room, looking out of the window. Nothing moved not even the birds or the sound of a distant car on the motorway. She undressed and climbed into the bed. She lay for what seemed like ages staring up at the ceiling, but couldn’t get to sleep. She turned on to her side, but still no luck, then she flopped onto her stomach and smothered her face into the pillow. That didn’t last long. She huffed and turned onto her back; she kicked her legs restlessly trying to make room for herself.

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The ceiling hadn’t changed. She followed the swirling pattern of the artex until eventually her eyes began to droop. ☯

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The sun shone brightly, the field was a deep emerald green, the sky a brilliant blue. Her bare feet felt damp, must’ve been dew. In the distance she could see two figures quite far apart coming towards her. As they came closer she recognised one of the figures as her father, the other was a tall man with white skin and jet black hair, and his eyes were as blue as the sky. They both stopped in front of her and stood expectantly. “Hello.” Was all she could think to say. “Hello.” They both replied together. “Do you know each other?” She asked. They both turned to each other and shook hands. “Hello I’m Josef.” Said the man with jet black hair. At this her father’s face contorted in pain and slowly started to wither away. Morven felt helpless, she couldn’t move. She stood unable to do anything as her father disappeared before her eyes until all that remained was Josef. He turned calmly to face her and held out his hand. “Hello I’m Josef.” His blue eyes glinted. Morven tried to back away, but she couldn’t. She felt her hand raising to take his. She tried to fight it, but they got closer and closer. 234

Morven let out a scream. ☯

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“It’s all right dear, it’s all right. It’s only a bad dream.” Morven looked up at her mother, who was sitting in her dressing gown on the edge of the bed. Her hair was in curlers and Morven thought it must’ve been the first time she’d ever seen her without make up. “I dreamt of Dad.” “Aye well I’m not surprised it was a nightmare.” “Mum!” Morven sounded shocked, but deep down she wasn’t really surprised. “I’ve got things to arrange for tomorrow.” She quickly got up off the bed and marched out, her motherly duties done. Morven spent the whole day in the house, which in itself was a minor miracle, mainly because her mother was out of the way spending most of the day phoning friends and relatives, the majority of them Morven had never heard of. Dinner came and went with the minimum of fuss. Her mother had cooked beans on toast, a gastronomic delight that was only saved when Morven had smelt burning as she came down the stairs. She’d raced into the kitchen and pulled the toast out from under the grill, flames leapt up and licked at Morven’s eyebrows. She threw the

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lot into the bin and ended up making it herself, her mother never even noticed. Morven sat on her bed in her room looking out of the window. She could hear her mother rattling about downstairs. She heard the front door open and Karen’s voice “It’s only me.” Morven climbed down off the bed and went down to meet her. “Oh Morven.” Karen looked sad. She held out her arms and hugged Morven. For the first time Morven actually wanted to cry, but she swallowed hard and fought the tears back. “You all right?” “Aye.” Morven sniffed and broke away. She could see Karen had been crying, her eyes were puffy and her make up was smudged. “What about you?” “Don’t worry ‘bout me, I’ll be fine.” Karen dabbed at her face with a small hankie. They both walked into the living room; they could hear their mother clattering some dishes about in the kitchen. “Mum seems to be taking it well.” Karen nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “Aye well you know her, a bomb could go off and she’d still carry on cleaning.” “You two still not getting on?” “She’s still breathing isn’t she.” 236

“She came and got you, that must be something?” “You probably gave her a hard time about it.” “No, I never said a word. She went without saying a word, just left me a note.” “Honestly?” “Aye.” Morven looked in the direction of the kitchen, where her mother was still rattling about. “She’s not all bad.” “Mmm.” Morven still looked towards the kitchen.

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-CHAPTER TWENTY TWO-

“C’mon you two, it’s time to get up.” Morven’s mother shouted from the bottom of the stairs. Morven dragged herself out of bed and walked over to the window, she pulled back the curtain and gasped in surprised. For as far as she could see everything was covered in a thin layer of snow. The tops of houses, trees everything glistened. Morven quickly got dressed and ran downstairs. Her mother was in the kitchen already dressed in black, Morven felt underdressed as she sat there in her pyjamas. “Ready a bit early aren’t you?” “I like to be prepared.” She said without looking at Morven. Karen shuffled in wearing a scruffy pair of jeans and an old jumper. “Have you seen it outside?” Morven smiled excitedly. “Uuugh?” Was all Karen could manage as she ran her fingers through her hair, which was all over the place. “It’s snowing!” Morven sounded like a little kid. “It’ll play havoc with the arrangements.” Morven’s mother finally turned round seeing her daughter’s for the first time “Good god, look at the state of you two, you’re not even dressed!” “I am.” Karen pulled at her jumper.

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“No daughter of mine is going to a funeral like that!” She turned red with anger. “But…” Karen started to explained. “Get upstairs the pair of you.” “There’s ages yet.” “Not the way it takes you two to get ready, by the time one of you is through the bathroom we’ll be late.” Morven knew it wasn’t worth arguing about, no matter what she said it would be the wrong thing. She bit her tongue and headed back up the stairs. It wasn’t exactly difficult for her to find something black to wear, but she went through the routine of laying several different outfits on the bed. Straight away she pulled one of them off and threw it into the corner. She picked another and held it in front of her as she stood at the mirror. It too got thrown to the corner, deemed unsuitable. She was down to two outfits, neither of which she really liked. So she took the trousers from one and the jacket from the other. The thin silver pin stripe that ran down the trousers didn’t clash too heavily with the plain black jacket. Satisfied with that choice she then had to decide what she was going to wear under the jacket. She could hear the noise of the shower coming through the wall followed by the sound of Karen trying to sing.

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Morven could remember her father singing to her when she was little. He had a soft lilting voice that used to calm her when she was upset. She wished she could hear him now. She slumped on the bed and tried to picture him, but the only images that came were of him lying in the hospital bed looking frail and weak. “Bathroom’s free.” She heard Karen shout. She hadn’t even noticed the shower had stopped. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a small toiletry bag. She entered the bathroom and kicked Karen’s wet towels into the corner. She pulled some new ones out of the cupboard and turned on the shower. She undressed and stepped under the shower. The water drummed against her forehead, washing over her, turning her skin red and goose pimpled. She tried to empty out her mind, she was after all about to bury the man whom she thought had been her father all her life, but she felt nothing. No sorrow, no anger, no pity and no pain. She wondered if there was something wrong with her, should she not be weeping and wailing? The shower started to turn cold, so she turned it off and stepped out. She picked up one of the clean towels and started to wrap it around herself, as she did so she caught sight of the bruise on her back in the mirror attached to the bathroom door. She turned to get a better look, it had started to fade, no longer looking angry and 240

purple more like a dull grey. She prodded it with her finger, but only felt a dull sensation. She smiled to herself as she thought that it now looked like a map of France. She continued to wrap the towel round herself and put one round her head. She unlocked the bathroom door and went back to the bedroom. She was amused to see that hanging on the door of the cupboard was a black silk blouse. She felt it between her fingers, she reckoned it must have been expensive. She rummaged in her bag again and brought out a small travel hairdryer. She plugged it in and unravelled her hair from the towel. With a brush in one hand and the hairdryer in the other she slowly began untangling her hair. With near rhythmical expertise she slowly teased her hair, transforming it from a frizzy nightmare to an immaculate black gloss. The noise from the hairdryer was almost deafening, but the heat that caressed her head and ears was incredibly therapeutic. It took Morven several seconds to notice her mother standing in the doorway, looking immaculate in her black suit, with a hat that had a black veil covering her face. Her hand was on her hip and she didn’t look best pleased. Morven could see her lips moving, but couldn’t hear a word over the noise of the hairdryer.

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“What?” She looked at her mother as she turned off the hairdryer. “What?… What?… Is that all you can say?” Her face turning red with anger “I’ve been shouting you for the last ten minutes.” “Well what is it then?” Her mother’s bluster had no effect on Morven. “Good god girl!” Her face screwed up violently “The cars are here. Now get a move on.” Morven stood up and deliberately turned her back on her mother. She let the towel fall dramatically to the floor. She heard her mother gasp. She turned to face her. “How… How did you get that? You should’ve told me. Is it sore?” She stuttered. Morven had got so used to the bruise being there over the last few weeks that she was confused as to what all the fuss was about. She was more unnerved by the sudden show of parental concern. “It’s nothing, I fell out of a tree.” She shrugged the concern away. “You’re all right, I mean you will be able to make it through the day?” Her mother tried to get a better look at the bruise. “Mum.” Morven backed away “I’ve got to get ready.” Morven thought she could see a slight look of concern in her mother’s face, but then it quickly vanished “Five minutes then. No longer mind.” 242

Morven, Karen and their mother sat in the back of the big black car. The hearse was just in front. Morven tried to ignore the continued furtive glances from her mother as they travelled to the church as best she could. She concentrated on the light flakes of snow that drifted down from the sky. The car drew up and an old balding man held the door open for them. Morven waited until Karen and her mother had climbed out, then she followed. The snow crunched under her feet as she walked. She could see her mother talking to a group of middle aged men, she didn’t recognise any of them. Morven felt completely out of place, she didn’t know anybody. She just wandered behind everybody as they milled about waiting for something to happen. Out of the corner of her eye Morven could see someone coming towards her. It was a well dressed woman walking with purpose. There were two small children following behind her. It was only when she started talking that Morven recognised her. “Morven how are you?” Audrey spoke in voice that tried to sound posh; Morven resisted the urge to laugh. “All right, considering.” Morven mumbled. “Oh I know, all this is just too ghastly.” The two children looked bored out of their minds and started hitting each other. 243

“Stop that you two.” Audrey barked. The children looked at Audrey for a second then at Morven. One of them lashed out hitting the other on the arm. “I won’t tell you again.” “These two yours?” Morven smiled at them, they hesitated and then smiled back. “Yes, for my sins.” “So what’s you names?” Morven knelt down so that she was the same level as them. “I’m Suzi and he’s Michael.” One of them chirped. Morven had not noticed that one was a boy and one a girl, they looked so alike. “Can we go and play?” Suzi tugged at Audrey’s coat. “Oh all right then, just don’t go far.” They yelled and ran off at breakneck speed. “Are they twins?” “Born five minutes apart, Suzi’s the eldest and bossiest. Michael just does what Suzi tells him.” “So where’s hubby?” “Oh he couldn’t come, work commitments. You know the sort of thing.” “So where you staying?” “In Glasgow. We just came up for the day.” “You’re lucky.” Morven mumbled. “Sorry?” 244

“Nothing, I’m just jealous ‘cos I’m having to stay at mum’s.” “That must be tough. How’s she taking all of this?” “Wish I knew, she doesn’t really talk to me.” Morven looked over to where their mother was still talking to a group of elderly men, she was laughing. “Seems to be all right.” Audrey sniffed. “You know mum.” Morven failed to hide the bitterness in her voice. The minister appeared at the door of the church. He coughed politely and everybody turned, the pal bearers took the coffin out of the hearse and hoisted it onto their shoulders. The minister set off into the churchyard, the coffin behind him. Everybody slotted into line behind. Audrey looked round for her children, but couldn’t see them; she didn’t seem overly concerned. Morven was near the back, but as the procession wound its way through the churchyard she saw that her mother, at the head, was flanked either side by a middle aged man. Morven smirked to herself; her mother was revelling in all the attention. They came to a halt at a pre prepared part of the churchyard; the mounds of earth at the side on the grave were covered in green Astroturf. Morven found herself at the graveside, people either side of her that she didn’t know. She looked across at her mother, who was theatrically dabbing at her eyes with a hankie. She now had Karen

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and Audrey either side of her; Audrey’s children had reappeared and were clutching at her legs. Morven felt more out of place than ever, she wasn’t part of the family. She wanted to run, to get as far away as possible, but there were people standing behind her. “We are gathered here today to mark the passing of a much loved husband, father and friend Luca Zubiski.” The minister started to speak. Morven looked around her; everyone had their heads bowed. She could hear sniffling and stifled crying. Over the heads of everybody she could see the ever present hills, capped with snow. They seemed to be staring down, dominating the whole town. A large bird drifted across the white sky, small flakes of snow started to drift down. Morven stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets and pulled it tight around her. She watched the bird as it settled on a tree at the far end of the churchyard. Her eyes drifted down the tree, standing behind the tree a figure was just visible. She saw a baldhead disappear from view. She was convinced it was Josef. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” The minister’s voice interrupted Morven’s thoughts. She watched as first the minister and then her mother threw a handful of soil onto the coffin that had been lowered into the grave. Morven felt like she was a million miles away, watching all that was going on as if she had no part in it. Her sisters both threw a 246

handful of soil onto the coffin. Her mother said a few words to the minister and then she walked away. Karen and Audrey nodded at the minister and followed their mother. Morven watched as each person dropped soil into the grave and nodded to the minister, until only her and the minister remained. The minister looked at her, he blinked repeatedly and fidgeted nervously with the bible in his hands. Morven looked down at the coffin, a hollow airy feeling rose in her stomach, she felt sick. She looked back up; the minister was still staring at her. Morven turned her back on him and glanced over to the tree where she thought she’d seen Josef, but there was no sign. She walked away with her head down staring at the snow. She could hear footsteps crunching behind her, but she kept walking. “Excuse me.” A voice from behind called. Morven kept walking. She felt a tap on her shoulder just as she reached the wall of the church. Morven stopped and turned to face the minister. For the first time she noticed that he must only have been a few years older then her. He blinked rapidly again. “You must be Ellen’s daughter?” Morven hadn’t heard her mother’s name for years; even Luca had never called her by her first name. It sounded strange.

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“Morven isn’t it? Yes.” He answered his own question “She talks about you a lot.” Morven was taken aback by the fact that her mother had anything to do with the church, never mind they had talked about her. She didn’t have a religious bone in her body. “She’s been coming here regularly since you father’s illness.” The minister explained as if he’d read her mind. “She talked about me?” Morven nervously played with her ponytail. “Often.” “What did she say?” “I don’t know if I can.” He fidgeted with the bible again “It was in confidence.” “She told you didn’t she?” Morven’s eyes suddenly burned with anger. “I don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stammered. “About me, she told you about me. Didn’t she?” Morven paced angrily. “I can assure you that whatever she told me will go no further.” “But she told you!” Morven looked the minister up and down in disgust “She can’t even talk to me, she acts as if I don’t even exist.” “It’s just her way. She…” “That’s what everybody says.” Morven interrupted “But I’m getting fed up with excuses. All I’m looking for is a little bit of 248

acknowledgement. A word, a look anything. I mean it’s not my fault, it’s not as if I could do anything to stop what happened.” “We each have our cross to bear.” “Is that what you’re religion teaches you, eh? You don’t get it do you? It’s not my cross to bear, it’s my mothers, but she doesn’t want to deal with it, she’s past it on to me. Blames me for everything and I’ve had enough of it, I don’t know if I can take anymore.” Morven started to walk away. “Morven.” The minister put his hand on her shoulder and stopped her “Morven it’s not what you think.” “Well go on then, explain it to me. What great insight does that dog collar give you?” Morven turned red with anger. “She loves you.” “Yeah right.” Morven sniffed. “It’s because she loves you. She thinks you don’t know about… about your past. She’s protecting you. By not mentioning it she thinks it’ll go away.” “You mean she has no intention of ever talking about it?” “Well she would prefer it if you didn’t know.” “Aye that’d be just fine to her, eh. She could carry on her little life, still be the pillar of society. Nobody need ever know. She could forget all about her little mistake.” “I’m sure she doesn’t think of you like that.” “You don’t really know her do you?” Morven smiled at the minister. 249

“I…” The minister couldn’t answer. Morven headed towards the churchyard gates. “Where are you going? They’ll be waiting for you.” He shouted after her. “Tell them whatever you want, tell them I’ve gone.” Morven disappeared before he could reply.

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-CHAPTER TWENTY THREE-

Morven collected her things from her mother’s house. She thought for a moment about leaving a note, but decided against it. She wandered about town until it turned dark. She needed to find a way to get home, but she needed money for each of the ideas she had come up with, and unfortunately she didn’t have much of that. Before she knew what she was doing she found herself walking through the churchyard. She stopped at the side of her father’s grave, the snow was still lying lightly on the ground, she set down her bag and sat down cross-legged on top of it. The grave was no more than a mound of freshly dug earth, but it held her attention with an almost morbid fascination. A single wreath of flowers rested on top of the mound. “Hiya Dad.” Morven didn’t know what else to say. She shifted her weight as the cold sharp ground dug into her legs. She leaned forward to see if there was a card or anything on the wreath, but there wasn’t. She leaned back and tried to get comfortable, pins and needles spreading up her legs. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here, or why I’m talking to a mound of earth? It’s just that, well, I suppose I’m trying to say I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault, it was just a kind of shock.” She paused, almost as if waiting for a reply. 251

“I miss you Dad.” Morven wiped tears from her eyes “Why did you have to go and fucking die? What am I supposed to do now? You were always the one for the grand gesture, but I think you’ve gone a bit far this time.” Morven jumped as she heard something behind her, a figure came towards her across the darkened churchyard. “Who’s there?” She managed nervously. The figure came closer without saying a word; she could only make out his outline. “What do you want?” She felt her throat drying up. She pulled her bag from under her and scrabbled about for something to protect herself. “I mean no harm.” The figure spoke in an Eastern European accent. Morven knew exactly who it was. “Josef?” The figure stopped, he looked behind him as if thinking of walking away. “Don’t go.” Morven knew what he was thinking “I saw you at the funeral, by the tree.” “I did not want to be seen.” He looked past Morven concentrating on the grave. “Have you been here all day?” “I needed some time. He was a good man.” Morven thought she could see the glint of a tear in his eye.

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“Yes he was.” Morven lifted herself to her feet and stood next to Josef. He was slightly taller than her and had a slight wiry build. “How did you know him?” He stared at the grave. Morven was suddenly struck by the fact that Josef had no idea who she was. Here was the man whom she’d dreamt of and seen in pictures yet he didn’t know her. Had she imagined it all? Was it actually different people in the photographs? Had she built up this whole imaginary relationship? “I’m his daughter.” She just managed to get the words out; they nearly stuck in her throat. Josef looked at her for the first time, his eyes piercing into her. She felt as if he was looking into her soul. “I know.” “Sorry?” Morven wasn’t sure what she’d heard. “I know. I just needed to hear you say it.” It was almost as if Morven heard something crack, her legs felt weak and gave way underneath her. She fell forward into Josef’s arms. “You have many questions, but you have already answered the most important one.” Josef looked down on Morven. “We must talk.” Morven looked at him as if he must have all the answers. “Must we? You seem to be getting on all right by yourself.” Josef swallowed hard “I did a terrible thing, something I have to live with all my life. I don’t know if I could have done what Luca did. He 253

was a far better man than I could ever be and you should never forget that.” “But I need to talk to you, there’s things I have to ask you.” “No there isn’t.” “But… But you can’t just walk away. I need to know why you did what you did?” “No you don’t.” Josef let go of her and started to walk away. “That’s it walk away. Deny everything. I’m as much your daughter as his.” Morven waved vigorously at the grave. “That is just it. I am not your father. I have had nothing to do with you, you are a complete product of Luca’s influence.” “You still could be.” “You do not know what you are saying.” Josef started to walk away. “Why were you following me then?” “I had questions of my own.” “You had questions? Fucksake! My life has been turned up side down, I’ve had nightmares, I thought I was going mad.” “Now you know you are not.” “Is that it? That’s all you’ve got to say?” “What should I say?” “But…” “I do not have anymore answers than you do. I think we should go our separate ways and get on with our lives.” Josef walked away. “Where are you going?” 254

“Away. I have made my peace with Luca, that is all I came to do. You will not see me again.” “So what am I supposed to do now?” “Look Morven, you have a life. What you do with it is up to you.” “I can’t even get home.” Morven looked at the ground, full of self pity. Josef took out his wallet and stuffed a few notes into Morven’s hand. Morven just stared at her hand, unable to say anything. By the time she did look up Josef was nowhere to be seen. She shouted after him, but there was nothing.

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-CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR-

The train pulled into the station. Morven dragged herself out of her seat and slung her bag over her shoulder. It was raining when she came out of the station, all the snow had either been washed away or was now brown slush. She didn’t acknowledge anybody else’s existence as she trudged her way to her flat, finally putting her keys into the lock and shutting the world out behind her. A vodka in her hand, her bags flung in the corner and the telly on, Morven felt slightly better. The telly blared images at her, but she didn’t take any of it in. She felt cold. She pulled herself off the sofa and headed to the bedroom to get the duvet to wrap round herself. She stood open mouthed in the doorway of the bedroom. Lying on the bed was a very expensive looking red dress with a small white envelope with her name written on it in red ink. She sat on the bed and ran her fingers over the dress, it felt like silk. A shiver ran down her neck as she opened the envelope. She pulled out a piece of crisply folded cream coloured writing paper. She turned it over and over in her hand before she unfolded it. The message was written in the same red ink on the envelope. It read:

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Sorry. I hope this can bring some colour to your life. Love Sam Morven crumpled the letter and threw it into the corner of the room. She then pulled the duvet off the bed and let the dress fall to the ground in a pile. She sat back in front of the telly and wrapped the duvet around herself, telling herself that she was safe, cosy and warm. ☯

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Morven looked up, Luca’s face beamed down at her, his eyes dazzling bright and alive. A large smile spread across his face, he held his hand out to her. Morven sat up and took it. They were running, the wind rushing through her hair. Luca kept looking back, pulling her on. Morven could feel the wet sand on her feet, splashing through puddles. Suddenly Luca stopped; Morven laughed and came to a stop by Luca’s side. He knelt down by a rockpool and stared intently into it. Morven knelt down next to him and tried to see what he could see. His face was bright and excited like a child’s. 257

Morven looked into the pool, but could see nothing. Luca pointed at something and laughed heartily, Morven still couldn’t see anything. Luca nodded at her and laughed like she hadn’t heard him laugh for years, she felt empty and hollow inside. He pointed urgently into the pool again. Morven looked, but still she could not see anything. She leaned closer, but all she could see was her own reflection staring back at her. The water rippled, Morven leaned closer, trying desperately to see something anything. Suddenly the water darkened, her reflection disappeared, she went even closer, her nose nearly touching the surface. A large claw shot out of the water and grabbed her head; she didn’t have time to think let alone breathe before she was pulled from her feet and into the water. The air rushed from her lungs in bubbles, her chest burned, her arms thrashed at the claw, trying desperately to break free. She felt herself pulled deeper and deeper, it got darker, the energy drained from her body. The darkness was all consuming, she couldn’t see, hear or feel anything. Her movement became slower her arms and legs heavier. She gave up struggling; there didn’t seem any point. She hit the bottom with a bump. ☯

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Morven woke with a bump, she found herself lying on the floor the duvet wrapped tightly around her. She rubbed sleep from her eyes and wriggled free of the duvet. She picked herself off the floor and headed to the bathroom. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror. Her hair was matted and stuck to the left side of her face on the right side her hair stuck out at right angles. She ran her hands through her hair, but it just sprang straight back. She growled and filled the sink with hot water then she plunged her head under the water. She came back up gasping and pushed her hair back from her face. Her gaunt eyes stared back at her; angry red blood vessels cris-crossed the whites of her eyes and large black lines stretched out under them. She rubbed her eyes vigorously, but still the same image looked back at her. She shook her head and walked back to the kitchen. She absent-mindedly switched on the kettle and filled a bowl with breakfast cereal and went back to the front room. She sat back down on the sofa and rested her feet on the crumpled duvet. As she munched her way through the breakfast cereal she noticed a light patch on the far wall, where all the photographs hang. She didn’t remember noticing it last night. Her munching became slower and slower as she realised that there was in fact a photograph missing.

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She put the cereal bowl to one side and went over to the wall, studying the space and then the rest of the photographs to try and remember which one was missing. Maybe she’d taken the picture down herself for some reason; she had been rather preoccupied recently. The shrill beeping of her alarm clock from the bedroom interrupted her thoughts.

Morven found herself walking down yet another hospital corridor. The missing photograph was still praying on her mind. What if she hadn’t taken it herself? Maybe Sam had taken it? She couldn’t remember giving him a key, but she must have otherwise how would he have got the dress into the flat. Her brain was scrambled; it was turning thousands of ideas over and over in her head. She was so preoccupied she didn’t see Frank as he came out of his office until she walked straight into him, knocking the pile of papers he was carrying to the floor. “Oh god, sorry Frank. I didn’t see you.” She bent down and helped Frank try to gather up the papers. “Morven?” Frank looked up from the papers “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” “No rest for the wicked.” Morven smiled unconvincingly. ”How are you?” 260

“Can’t complain.” She shrugged. “But you are all right?” “Yeah I’m fine, don’t worry.” “So everything went okay?” “You know what these things are like, they’re not exactly fun. How’s your wife? I’ve been meaning to ask.” Morven tried to change the subject. Frank put his head down and mumbled something while picking up the last of the papers. “Just the person.” Morven turned to see who’s voice was behind her. “I’ll need you in the mortuary in five minutes.” Haldane tapped her on the shoulder as he marched past. “Okay.” Morven just managed to utter as Haldane disappeared down the corridor. “You’d better get a move on.” Frank stood up as he clutched the papers to his chest.

Morven struggled with one of the white boots as she entered the mortuary. She nearly fell flat on her face as she tripped and stumbled. “That’s quite an entrance love.” DI Harker could hardly wipe the smile off his face. 261

“What are you doing here?” Morven glared at him. “Duh, let me think.” Harker rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “No don’t bother that may take a while.” Morven smiled sarcastically at him. “Oh very droll.” Harker clasped his large stomach in his hands and pretended to laugh. Callum pushed a trolley through the side doors. “All right big man, how you doing?” Callum smiled broadly at Harker. “Not so bad. So is this our little lady?” Harker strode up to the trolley and put his hand on the green cloth that covered the body. “If you don’t mind detective.” Haldane entered the mortuary. “It’s Detective Inspector.” Harker mumbled half-heartedly. “So you okay?” Callum stood in front of Morven blocking her view of the body. All she could see as Haldane pulled back the cloth was rivulets of golden curls. “Yeah fine.” Morven tried to peer over Callum’s shoulder. “Christ, she’s just a child.” She heard Harker say. “Multiple stab wounds to the chest, looks like defence wounds on the arms.” “She put up quite a fight.” “You sure you’re okay?” Callum tried to get her attention. “Piss off Callum! Can’t you see I’ve got work to do?” Morven pushed Callum out of the way and walked over to the trolley. Morven gasped and put her hand to her mouth. 262

“You okay?” Harker turned to face her. Morven recognised her instantly; it was the young girl from the missing photograph. Her green eyes staring blankly back at her. Morven felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach, the air rushed from her and she felt unable to breathe. Her legs felt weak. Suddenly she fell to her knees gasping loudly for breath. Harker and Callum rushed to her aid, she could see their faces full of concern, their mouths moving rapidly, but she couldn’t hear a word. She felt herself being lifted up off the floor, but all she could see was the young girl’s face. “Morven are you all right? Do you know the girl?” She heard Harker’s words filter through the noise and clutter inside her head. She tried to answer, but the words stuck in her throat. She tried desperately to get the words out, but nothing happened. Her throat tightened and she felt faint. Her head rolled backwards, her eyes tightly closed. All she could see was the young girl’s angelic face staring back at her, her blonde hair moving just like her photograph. Morven opened her eyes; she looked round about her. She was in the locker room; Callum was standing at the door keeping an eye on the corridor outside. Quickly and quietly she changed out of her scrubs and into her ordinary cloths without disturbing Callum. She pulled her bag out of her locker, but as she did so a book fell out the locker and clattered onto the floor. 263

“Morven you’re awake.” Callum span round quickly. “Ssssshh.” Morven put her finger to her lips. “What’re you up to? Where do you think you’re going?” Callum’s face was full of concern. “I… I… I’ve got to be somewhere.” Morven stuttered. “You’re not going anywhere until you’ve told me everything about the girl.” Harker came into the locker room, pushing the door open with his stomach. “But I don’t know anything.” Morven pleaded. “C’mon Morven. A reaction like that for somebody you didn’t even know?” “But I didn’t. I just took her picture months ago. Then it was stolen from my flat.” “Stolen? When?” “I dunno, I’ve been away. It might just be missing.” “So you reckon there’s a connection between her death and the picture being stolen?” Harker thought out loud. “I dunno you’re the detective. Look I’ve got to be somewhere.” Morven pushed her way past Harker and out of the locker room. She ran down the corridor as fast as she could. She didn’t have a plan, but she knew where she was heading.

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-CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE-

Morven stood under a streetlight as darkness descended. She watched car after car enter the tunnel, the arc of light from their headlights following them through, momentarily illuminating parts of the tunnel with a halo of light. Morven stood watching for what seemed like ages, but she didn’t see any sign of Sam. Finally when darkness enveloped everything Morven decided to make her move. She snuck slowly along the tunnel until she came to the stairs. She peered up then tentatively took her first steps as a new set of headlights entered the tunnel. Morven disappeared from sight before the headlights passed. To her surprise she found the door at the top of the stairs open. She nervously pushed it wide and crept inside. The place was just as she remembered it, cold and clinical. She went from room to room, but couldn’t find Sam anywhere. In fact the place looked as if it hadn’t been lived in for days. Even the bedroom was immaculate not even a single piece of clothing out of place, it looked like something out of an Ikea catalogue. She returned to the main room and stared at the strange bank of old control panels. As she stared she noticed that one of the control panels had what looked like a door handle half way down it. Morven nervously took hold of the handle and pulled. 265

It swung open silently and easily. Morven peered down what looked like a dark stone clad tunnel. She took a deep breath and stepped into the tunnel. The air was cold and damp. Morven felt a shiver down her spine. The walls were damp to the touch, as she had to put her hands on the wall to keep her balance on the uneven floor. Eventually the tunnel opened out into a dimly lit room, which was a perfect circle. As her eyes slowly became used to the light she started to notice that the walls were covered in photographs. As Morven looked closely at the pictures she started to recognise some of them. They were her crime scene and autopsy photographs. The tramp, the girl from the nightclub and then she gasped and started to feel sick as she saw the missing photograph of the young girl. Before she could stop herself she doubled up and vomited violently. She spat and retched as she tried to get rid of the acidic taste in her mouth. “I see you’ve seen my tribute.” Morven suddenly span round at the sound of Sam’s voice. She could feel the damp stone wall as she put her hands behind her as Sam came closer, “Your what?” She managed to force the words out. “My tribute to our work,” He stared admiringly at the photographs. “Our work?” 266

“Oh I couldn’t have done it without your help.” “What… What are you on about? I didn’t do anything.” Morven tried to fight back the urge to vomit. “Always the modest one. You should be more confident in your work. All you have to do is look at the way you captured the fear, the control, the power, the devastation and most importantly the beauty.” Morven looked for another way out, but the only one she could see was the way she’d come in, the way that Sam was now blocking. “What are you on about?” Morven tried to stall for time, so that she could think. “Surely you must see it? We work well together. You with your visual eye and me with… shall we say, a more physical bent.” “Are you saying that’s art?” Morven pointed at the photographs in disgust. Sam moved with pace and power that took Morven by surprise, she found him standing inches from her face. His arms either side of her head. She could feel his warm breath washing over her face. “They saw the power and the beauty of it. They wanted it to happen. They saw it as a blessed relief from a dull boring existence. They knew that in death they would be more remembered than they ever had been in life.” His face was flushed red, his eyes wide and bulging. Morven tried to back away, but the wall dug sharply into her back.

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“You did it for them?” Morven’s eyes darted around looking for anything that might help. “No, not for them. For everybody. They need to see the beauty of cruelty.” “I don’t understand.” “You of all people!” He span away in a rage, the veins on his neck bulging “You and me are the same, look at your pictures.” Morven turned away. “LOOK AT THEM!” He screamed, grabbing her by the hair and forcing her face against the wall “You understand perfectly. Look at them, they’re vulnerable, helpless, and you did what you wanted with them. Manipulated them. You had power over them when they were at their weakest.” “I just took the pictures.” Morven sobbed through tears. “You don’t get it do you. You’ve never just taken a photograph in your life. Your camera is a part of you, just like me and my trusty blade.” Morven blinked tears from her eyes; her eyes finally focused on a large knife that had a serrated edge down one side. “I want you to teach me how to photograph.” Sam caressed the blade with his fingertips. “Why?” “I want to take your picture.” He smiled and ran the blade down her cheek.

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Morven’s brain screamed out at her to run, but the message didn’t reach her legs. She stood there gripped with fear; she’d even forgotten to breathe. Sam chuckled as he stared into her face. The chuckle acted like a key, suddenly everything happened at once. She raised her knee as quickly as she could, shuddering slightly as it hammered into his groin. Sam doubled up in agony. Morven took her opportunity and ran as fast as she could. She stumbled and fell in the tunnel, she felt her knees cut against the uneven ground. Quickly and without thinking she picked herself up and carried on. Her eyes flinched as she burst into the bright living room. “MORVEN!” She heard her name drifting up the tunnel quickly followed by Sam’s footsteps and his heavy breathing. She headed straight for the door, nearly slipping on the slick floor. Her heart was pounding, her lungs burning; she reached the door and wrenched at the handle. But the door didn’t budge, she rattled it frantically, but still it wouldn’t budge. Her heart felt as if it was going to explode out of her chest. “Ah the thrill of the chase.” Morven span round. Sam was in front of her, his face contorted into maniacal ecstasy. He stopped and looked her up and down as if assessing his prey. Then suddenly he charged like a bull. Morven 269

didn’t have time to scream before he crashed into her. She felt the knife graze her side just as the door gave way and they both tumbled down the hard stairs. Morven couldn’t be sure how long it took, or how many times she fell head over heels, but eventually she came to a stop with Sam on top of her. Sam stirred first, his eyes staring at her through a bloody mask. He smiled broadly, revealing a set of blood red teeth. Morven frantically kicked until eventually she broke free. She couldn’t be sure if Sam was following her, she picked herself up and just kept running into the tunnel. A set of headlights lit up the tunnel in front of her, Morven’s heart jumped, if she could get the car to stop she could escape. The headlights grew closer; she waved her arms frantically, the headlights grew closer. Suddenly she felt free, free of all guilt, free of all pain. Her body was light. For a moment she heard voices, then nothing.

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-CHAPTER TWENTY SIX-

The voices came closer; Morven tried to open her eyes, but couldn’t. She tried to make out what they were saying, but the drone of a machine or maybe air conditioning, drowned them out. She tried to move, but could feel something restricting her legs. She thought she heard her name, the voice sounded familiar. Maybe it was Sam? Then she started to remember the secret room, the photographs, and the knife. Then he chased her. If it was Sam then he was still after her, she had to get away. She tried to break free from whatever it was that was restraining her, but no matter how much she struggled she couldn’t budge. She screamed out in frustration. “Morven!” One of the voices rushed towards her “Morven it’s all right, you’re safe now.” With a huge effort she forced open her eyes. The light almost blinded her; it took all her strength to keep her eyes open. “Morven?” A dark shadow blocked the light; Morven blinked until she could make out her sister Karen “Thank God, you gave us a bit of a scare.” Morven attempted what she thought was a smile; she winced as her face ached. “It’s all right, try not to talk. You’ve been pretty well banged up.” 271

Morven tried to say something, but her mouth was dry and her tongue felt twice its normal size. “Do you want some water?” Karen looked down at her. Morven managed to nod. The water tasted sublime, she could feel it flowing down inside her. “Where am I?” She managed to croak. “Where do you think? In hospital dummy.” Karen smiled. “What happened?” “Do you not remember?” Karen’s smile quickly faded. Morven tried to force back the image of Sam and his blood red teeth coming towards her. “You were run over.” Morven’s mind suddenly panicked, they don’t know. She looked frantically around her. “It’s all right, they’ll look after you here.” “What about Sam?” “Who’s Sam? Is he your boyfriend?” Morven turned away and looked at the wall, trying to block out Karen’s voice. “Are you all right?” Karen came round back into Morven’s view. “What are you doing here anyway? Who called you?” Morven tried to change the subject. “Some guy called Callum, he sounded quite cute.” Morven sniggered in spite of herself. 272

“What?” “I’ll tell him you said that.” “Don’t you dare.” Karen blushed. Just then there was a knock on the door and in came Callum. “Are you decent?” He forced a nervous smile. “Talk of the devil.” Morven smiled back. Karen blushed and Callum looked from one to the other as if he’d missed a private joke. “What?” “Nothing, c’mere and sit down.” “You’re up to something.” Callum nervously approached the bed. Morven laughed and then winced in pain. “Are you all right?” Karen leaned onto the bed. “It only hurts when I laugh. Look you couldn’t do us a favour, could you get a nurse. I need to go for a pee.” Callum looked nervously around him. “You all right Callum?” “Yeah fine, just thought I’d check up on you so’s I could tell the others how you’re doing.” “You can tell them I’m fine, nothing that can’t be mended.” Callum nodded and turned to the door. “I’ll get the nurse.” Karen quickly followed after Callum.

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Morven stared up at the ceiling; the strip lighting burned into her eyes. She heard the door open, she looked down, but all she could see was the shadow of the light in her eyes. “Is that you Callum?” There was no reply. “Karen?” Still nothing. Morven could feel somebody standing next to the bed; all she could make out was a shadow. She blinked furiously. The shadow came closer; she could see a smile and then the eyes. She recognised the eyes. She tried to scream, but before any sound came out she felt a strong hand clamped across her mouth. She flailed her arms and legs about, but to no avail, she bit at the hand across her mouth, but the smile that loomed above her only grew larger. “I just couldn’t stay away.” She heard Sam’s voice whisper in her ear. Her heart felt as if it was going to explode, blood roared in her ears. She froze and prayed she was dreaming. “I have a little something for you.” She felt the hand move away from her mouth, she knew she should scream, but she was paralysed with fear. She could feel his hand caress her body; she tried to recoil from his touch.

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His hand came back to her mouth; she could smell something funny, then what felt like cotton wool was shoved violently into her face. She screamed and kicked, but her struggling was barley audible. She felt weak and tired, she tried to keep her eyes open, but the effort was exhausting. As everything went dark the last thing she saw was his killer smile, then blackness. ☯

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Sublime music filled her ears, an angelic choir singing from on high. She could feel cold steel against her back, her arms and legs felt heavy, she tried to move them, but couldn’t. Cautiously she opened her eyes, he surroundings felt familiar. She turned her head to the side; she recognised the cupboards and sinks on the far wall, the swing door with the thin shaft of flickering fluorescent light from the other side. She was in the mortuary; she was lying on the mortuary table. She could hear voices approaching, the doors swung open. Haldane was at the head of the group, clipboard in hand. Then came Callum and Harkness. She tried to greet them, but nothing came out. They came closer. She saw more people coming through the door, her mother, Audrey and Karen then Luca and Josef. 275

Her mind raced, she couldn’t work out what was going on. Haldane stood over her, scalpel in hand. Morven tried to struggle, she watched as Haldane put the scalpel against her chest and started to cut. She screamed with all her might, every fibre in her body cried out in pain. Everybody looked down at her smiling. ☯

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“Pleasant dreams?” She heard Sam’s voice cut through the fog in her head. She felt a shiver run down her spine and clamped her eyes tightly shut, hoping that everything would go away. “Aaw, don’t tell me you’re hiding. How sweet.” She could feel his breath on her face; her heart started to race. She kept her eyes clamped so tightly shut that her head began to hurt and colours swam before her. “You’ve not gone all shy on me, eh?” She felt a hand caress her neck and move gently to her shoulder, which felt bare. She recoiled involuntarily away from his touch. “We’ve not fallen out have we? Was it something I did?” His voice sounded so hurt.

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Fear, anger, pity and pain all welled up inside Morven all at once. Her head felt as if it was going to explode. The colours before her danced and changed. She felt him kiss her gently on the lips, a soft and tender kiss like she had never ever experienced. “Nooooooo!!!” She screamed, her eyes snapped open, the volcano finally erupting. The first thing she saw was Sam’s eyes staring back at her. “I knew you’d come back to me.” He smiled, his hand reached out to her face. She instinctively flinched. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, it’s just you and me.” Morven put all her energy into slapping him, but she found her wrist tightly bound. For the first time she looked down at herself, her senses slowly coming back to her. Her feet and hands were tied to the ends of a grubby bed. She lifted her head slightly and saw that she was wearing the red silk dress she had discarded at her flat. She tugged at the restraints. “If only it was that easy.” Sam sniggered. Morven looked over at Sam; he was sitting on a thin metal chair balancing on the back legs while he leaned against the wall kicking his feet in the air. He looked for all the world like a child. “What do you want?” Morven croaked, the frailty in her voice bringing tears to her eyes as she realised how scared she was.

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“It’s like I said before.” Sam leaned forward, the legs of the chair clattering loudly as they hit the floor “It’s just a simple lesson. You teach me how to take your photograph and I’ll teach you a little something I’ve picked up along the way. A straight forward exchange of ideas between two artistic minds.” “How am I supposed to teach you if I’m stuck to this thing?” Morven tugged at her bindings. “Did you think it would be that easy?” Sam hissed, his face inches away from her “Just one little word and I’d cave in, say everything was a mistake and let you go." Morven tried to move herself as far away as she could, her head pushed back into the grimy covers, spit from his mouth flecking her cheeks. “You and I are very much alike.” He stood back and started pacing at the foot of the bed. Morven’s neck began to hurt as she tried to keep him in sight. “Are we fuck!” The words came out of Morven’s mouth before she had a chance to stop them. Sam stopped mid stride and turned to face her, Morven felt her blood turn to ice. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” An attempt at a smile that looked more like a sneer spread across Sam’s face. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it. Just kill me now.” Morven pulled angrily at her bindings.

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“Now why would I do that?” A more natural smile spread across his face and his eyes sparkled “I’m not going to just kill you.” Morven felt herself relax. “No. Not just kill you. Yours will be the beautiful most glorious death yet. People will speak of you for years to come; it’ll be what you’ve always wanted. You’ll be famous. People will mention you in the same sentence as Mary Kelly. She was just a prostitute until she met Jack The Ripper, and now she is more famous than she could ever have imagined.” “You’re mad.” Morven spat the words out. “Mmm.” Sam put his hand to his chin as if thinking it over “Probably.” Morven pulled even more fiercely on her bindings. She felt the one on her right wrist give slightly, her heart jumped and she started to sweat. She hoped Sam hadn’t noticed. “Now the camera.” Sam disappeared out of view. Morven could hear him grunting and rummaging about. She took the opportunity to take in her surroundings. Above her hung a single bare lightbulb from a cracked white ceiling, she could see spider’s webs hanging from the broken cornicing that ran right the way around. A large greenie grey patch of damp clung to the far corner causing the cheep wallpaper to peel off as if it didn’t want to be associated with the wall anymore. There was only one piece of furniture in the room apart from the bed, which she was tied to, a pine chest of drawers with five drawers, the second drawer was hanging 279

slightly open. There was a window to her left, but it was too grimy to see anything out of and looked like it had not been opened in years. Sam returned moments later carrying a heavy old metal camera; much like the one her father used to use, attached to an even older looking tripod. He grunted to himself as he twisted and adjusted the tripod into place. Morven pulled again at the bindings on her arms and felt even more give. She hoped the elation she suddenly felt didn’t show. With a final grunt Sam got the tripod into the position he wanted. He bent behind the camera and peered at Morven through the viewfinder. “You know the camera doesn’t really do you justice.” Morven bit her tongue and just smiled sarcastically back at him. She scanned the room trying to find anything that might help her escape. “There’s no point looking for a way out. I’d get there first.” Sam leered at her from behind the camera. “I’ll scream.” Morven spat in a vain attempt at defence. “Oh that would be nice.” Sam mocked her. “You won’t get away with it.” Morven knew the words sounded like a bad B-Movie line the moment they came out of her mouth. “Who says I want to.” Morven must have looked confused “What’s the point in being famous if no one knows what you’ve done, and in order to be famous I must be caught.”

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Morven wrenched at her bindings in frustration and her right arm came free. “Oh that’s good. That looks great.” Morven could hear the camera taking pictures and Sam sounding like a fashion photographer. She stared wildly at the camera. “Brilliant. Such passion. Animal power.” Sam continued to take pictures as Morven struggled with the rest of her bindings. As she fiddled with the final binding on her left leg she suddenly realised that she didn’t know what she was going to do next. She was nearly free and Sam was still taking pictures. She looked at the door and her brain tried to calculate how quickly she could get to it before Sam reacted. She sat on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do next. She realised the camera had stopped. “DO SOMETHING!!!” Sam screamed at her, his face red with anger, the blood vessels in his neck bulging fit to burst. Morven felt her blood freeze, the silk dress clung to her body, she felt sick. Her body ached. She looked slowly up at Sam; his eyes were bulging out on stalks, his whole body shaking violently. Morven glanced at the door. “Don’t even fucking think it!” Sam followed her eyes. Morven stared at him, rage seemed to have taken over his body, he looked unsteady on his feet, almost drunk. 281

She looked at the door again. Sam’s head swivelled and followed her gaze, his eyes didn’t seem to focus, he looked as if he was elsewhere. Morven seized her chance and leapt at the door, her hand was centimetres away from the handle when she heard the camera tripod crashing to the ground. Sam’s hand clamped on her shoulder and span her round. Her back crashed into the door, her body erupted in pain sending her almost blind. Sam’s face was inches from her, his skin looked silvery in the glow of the bare lightbulb overhead. He laughed loudly, his fetid breath washing over her face. In one easy motion he threw Morven back on the bed. He stood over her shaking his head and tutting. He seemed to calm down, finally getting a handle on his rage. Morven’s eyes opened wide with panic as Sam started towards her. His body seemed twice as large, twice as powerful as it did before. “Look, it doesn’t have to be like this. It could end here, I won’t say a word.” The words raced out of Morven’s mouth faster than she could think them. “I’m afraid we’ve gone way past that point.” Sam smiled. Sam hesitated for a moment before coming forward, giving Morven a split second chance to defend herself. She pulled her knees up to her chest and put her feet onto Sam as he came forward.

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She pushed with all her strength. Sam flew backwards as if repelled by an invisible force field and clattered into the fallen tripod. She leapt for the door, her hand grasping frantically at the handle. For some reason she turned expecting to see Sam inches from her, but he wasn’t. He was still lying on the floor clutching at his chest. Morven could see deep red blood seeping through his fingers. A low painful whimper squeezed out between his lips. As Sam’s hands moved trying vainly to staunch the flow she could see the pointed leg of the tripod sticking out of his chest. Their eyes met, and for a fleeting moment she felt sorry for him, he mouthed something she couldn’t hear. She leaned in closer, his mouthed formed words, she went closer still. She could smell his breath, his eyes looked as if they couldn’t focus. Then he spat. Morven flinched in shock as she felt warm splatters of blood hit her face. She looked down at herself, the flecks of blood matching almost perfectly the red silk dress. Sam started to laugh, a low deep hollow sound that shook his whole body. Morven felt herself overcome with rage, her hands shook and her pale skin turned red. She stared at his chest, a dark dark stain spreading out from the tripod leg. Before she knew what she was doing she kicked him squarely in the balls. His body automatically tried to double up sending the tripod leg deeper into his chest as he writhed in pain. He let out a low long desperate groan, which

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drowned as his throat filled with blood. He coughed once and his head fell back. Morven stared at him, as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his blood red teeth seemed to smile back at her. Morven felt in a daze, she couldn’t tear herself away from Sam’s limp body. A bird landing on the grimy window, its wings banging off the pane broke her concentration. She tore herself away from the grizzly sight, opened the door and walked outside. The sky was deep blue and the sun burned down as she shielded her eyes against its glare, and shivered in the winter chill.

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-CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN-

The sun was high in the sky occasionally peeking out from behind the clouds. Morven looked down at her feet as she walked, not taking in the birds singing in the trees or the bright bursts of colour that dotted the path. It had been three years since she had been to Rannoch, and as always it felt as if she’d never been away. A mixture of comfort and uneasiness filled her body as old memories came flooding back, memories that until recently she had tried to suppress. She remembered Sam, a man whom at one point she would have contemplated marriage. She remembered the police cell, the hours of questions, being made to feel stupid and degraded. She remembered the whispers “How could she not know her boyfriend was a murderer?” She remembered the looks in the streets. Eventually the police believed her, but as they say mud sticks. She gave up her job; the false smiles and platitudes didn’t fool her. She was just as glad as they were when she left. She worked for a short while as a freelance photographer doing the odd fashion shoot and mind numbing lifestyle piece. It paid the bills. Was she happy? 285

That was a question she reckoned she’d never have the answer to. Then out of the blue she found herself in Rannoch, same people same streets. It just felt comfortable. She stopped walking as she reached her father’s grave. It was strange, but as she read the name Luca Zubiski she realised that since everything had happened she had not once thought of Josef. “Hello Dad.” The words came out surprisingly easily. She sat for hours, but it felt like minutes, telling him everything that had happened. Tears came easily, but she found that if she pictured her Dad then a smile was never far behind. A little bird flew down and landed on the top of the gravestone, it started to sing its song. She looked at the bird, its yellow beak and brown feathers, chest puffed out proudly. She thought it would make a beautiful picture. She stood up and started to walk back, she could see her mother talking to the minister, she turned and waved to Morven. Morven found herself waving back. The little bird flew past her and into the branches of a tree where another bird was waiting for it. Morven plunged her hands into her jacket pocket and continued walking. Maybe things were not so black and white after all.

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