Dark Shadows Read online

  ‘No, he had to be going through something far worse to set himself on fire,’ Phoebe said sadly. ‘And we all missed the signs.’

  ‘Was he in a relationship with someone?’ I asked. ‘Or maybe involved in some other groups or clubs? Maybe there was someone else he spoke to about how he was feeling.’ Even though the witness statements said Ajay hadn’t been in a relationship with anyone, I had to double-check, considering what else had been missed so far.

  ‘No,’ Toby said. ‘Ajay said he didn’t have time for a relationship. He was studying medicine. He had a full workload. And he never told us about any other groups he belonged to or other friends.’

  Ivy nodded in agreement. ‘Which was a bit strange, because he did seem to be distancing himself a bit from us, didn’t he?’ She looked at the rest of them. ‘He kept disappearing from the house at odd times and being secretive about where he was going.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Phoebe said. ‘When we asked him about it, he just kind of looked at us blankly and didn’t really answer us.’

  ‘Anyway, maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this at your first meeting,’ Toby said. ‘Don’t want to put you off the club with all this tragic news.’

  ‘No, it’s okay. He was obviously really important to you all. One thing I found helped me when my friend died was talking about it. You have to let the grief out. It’s nice that you all knew him and can lean on each other.’ I wasn’t ready for them to stop talking yet.

  ‘Uh-huh,’ Jaxon said. ‘That’s true, actually. And this is a really supportive group. Everyone loved Ajay.’

  ‘I agree.’ Phoebe fiddled with her lip ring again. ‘Most of us here know what it’s like to repress our thoughts and feelings. I didn’t come out to my family until just before I came to uni. All those years of keeping things inside.’ She did a mock shiver. ‘It’s not healthy, is it?’

  I took another sip of coffee, which had gone cold. ‘I only met Ajay a couple of times, but he seemed like a really nice guy.’ I pretended to think about what they’d told me, then said, ‘My friend… before she killed herself, she was having really bad nightmares, too. They say dreams are your subconscious trying to tell you something, don’t they? She told me about some she was having, but I didn’t really pay attention at the time.’

  ‘Ajay was having nightmares, as well,’ Toby said. ‘I had to wake him up a couple of times. He thought someone was trying to kill him. Thrashing around the bed and screaming, he was.’ His gaze drifted towards the clock on the wall. ‘Oops, it’s about time to wrap up now.’

  I downed my coffee and put the cup in the bin at the end of the table.

  ‘Gotta rush.’ Jaxon grabbed his backpack from a chair. ‘I always forget the time when I’m in here. Nice to meet you, Becky.’ He launched forward and gave me a hug. ‘Hope to see you again.’

  I hugged him back, and he shouted goodbye to the students on their phones then darted out of the door.

  ‘I’m gonna be late to my lecture.’ Phoebe pulled a cheeky gurning face. ‘Hopefully, we’ll see you here tomorrow.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ I said. ‘I’m meeting some other people in the Terrace Bar tonight if you fancy coming down, too. Millie and Jess, do you guys know them?’

  ‘No,’ Phoebe said.

  The others shook their heads.

  ‘We can’t tonight, though,’ Phoebe said. ‘We’ve got a friend’s birthday dinner to go to. Maybe we can hook up tomorrow night in the bar?’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’

  ‘Cool. Let’s swap numbers.’ Phoebe got her phone out of her pocket.

  We exchanged phone numbers, and then Phoebe cried, ‘Group hug!’ and threw herself at all of us, squishing us together in a circle.

  Phoebe and Ivy left, and I helped Toby pack up the empty coffee cups and put the milk in a small fridge in the corner of the room.

  I stacked chairs against the wall, thinking about the deposits into Ajay’s and Vicky’s accounts and the cash stashed under Natalie’s bed. ‘You don’t know where I can earn some extra cash, do you? Student loans are a bitch.’

  ‘They are indeed.’ He piled one plastic chair on top of another, stood up, and tilted his head as if thinking about it. ‘Actually… no, I don’t. Sorry. None of us have tried to look for any part-time work.’ Toby surveyed the room, making sure it was tidy for whichever group would meet there next. He found a stray coffee cup on the floor next to the beanbags and picked it up.

  ‘So Ajay didn’t have a job? That couldn’t have been where he was wandering off to?’

  ‘He didn’t have time to get a job. Medicine’s a full-on course.’ He deposited the cup in the bin.

  ‘It must’ve been really high pressured… Was he having any trouble with the work?’

  ‘No. He was one of those super-brainy people. His parents were Indian, and he spoke fluent Hindi, English, French, and Spanish. You hear about people having photographic memories, but I thought it was a load of crap. Until I met Ajay. He really did have a gift for remembering things. Studying came easy to him. Not like me, which is why I need to love you and leave you. I’ve got to finish off an essay I’ve been struggling with.’ He walked to the door and opened it.

  ‘No problem.’ I followed him out into the corridor, unease creeping through me. The stories of the three students’ recent behaviour were troubling me. They were strange and similar, but even though I’d found no tangible connection between them yet, my instinct was telling me something was wrong here. I didn’t know what. But I could feel it.

  Chapter 12

  Toni

  The female police officer walked towards me, talking into her radio, while her male colleague headed over to the driver of the 4x4, who leaned against the bonnet of his vehicle, his face pale with shock.

  ‘I’m PC Chowdhury. Are you okay? Are you injured?’ She looked at the front of my white shirt.

  I glanced down and noticed Marcelina’s blood smeared on the sleeve. ‘No, it’s not my blood. I’m just…’ I looked in the direction of the ambulance heading off into the distance, its siren dissipating into the air. ‘I tried to help her.’

  ‘Did you see what happened?’

  ‘Oh, God. I knew her.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Well, I didn’t really know her. But I know who she is. She’s a student here.’ I tilted my head towards the university’s entrance. ‘Marcelina Claybourn.’

  ‘How do you spell that?’

  I told PC Chowdhury, who wrote it down in her notebook. ‘And your name?’

  I told her, and she wrote that down, too. ‘Did you see the accident?’

  ‘Yes, I did. I’m an associate counsellor at the university. Marcelina came to see me today. It was…’ I tucked a stray tendril of hair behind my ear with a shaky hand.

  Get a grip, Toni. Breathe.

  I took a steadying breath in for five counts, held it, then breathed out for five. ‘It was her first appointment, but it didn’t go very well. She left after just a few minutes. She was upset, agitated. I went after her to make sure she was okay. I wanted to give her my card so she had my number if she wanted to talk. And by the time I caught up with her, she… she’d rushed into the road in front of that 4x4.’ I pointed at the vehicle, even though there was no need. It was obvious what had hit Marcelina from the blood smeared on the dented bonnet. The driver sat in the rear seat of the police car now while the male police officer crouched in front of him, talking and holding a breathalyser in his hand. ‘She was upset. If I’d done something differently, she wouldn’t have been running away.’

  ‘Did Marcelina know you were following her?’

  ‘She must’ve done. I was calling her name. I should’ve backed off.’

  She gave me a placatory smile. ‘It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known this would happen.’ She glanced towards the 4x4. ‘Did it seem like the driver was going too fast?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t think so, no.’

  ‘Was he driving erratically?’

  ‘No. I don’t think he had
time to react. She just stepped out in front of him, like she didn’t see him.’ My gaze flicked over to the blood on the tarmac. ‘I need to get back to the office so I can get my car keys and drive to the hospital. I want to be there for her. Her family are in Scotland.’

  ‘Sure. I just need your contact details first. A traffic officer will need to come and take a full statement from you soon.’

  I gave her my details and walked towards the university’s entrance gates, passing a group of students leaning against them.

  ‘Hey, do you know if she’s going to be okay?’ asked a young mixed-raced guy wearing a red T-shirt and a horrified expression. He had his arm round a black girl with long braids, comforting her as she cried.

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t know any more than you at the moment.’ I hurried off, retracing my steps back to the counselling services block, concentrating hard on getting my wobbly legs to work.

  Breathless, I stepped into the reception and found Janet talking to Phil, the head of Student Counselling Services and my supervisor. She must’ve told him about Marcelina’s abrupt departure and me chasing after her, and the conversation stopped as I headed towards them, both looking at me.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ Phil’s eyebrows furrowed with concern.

  ‘Not really, no.’ I relayed what had happened in one long stream. ‘We’ll need to contact Marcelina’s parents and let them know what’s happened. And I need to go to the hospital and be with her. I’ll get my car keys and then—’

  ‘Okay. Slow down and take a breath,’ Phil said.

  ‘You don’t understand. It’ll take a while for her family to get here from Scotland, and she shouldn’t be on her own.’ I didn’t have time to think of myself. I needed to go and make sure she was all right. My role in the terrible scene hit me at full impact. If I hadn’t chased after Marcelina, maybe she wouldn’t have run out into the road. If I’d said something different to her at the session… if I’d chosen my words more carefully, maybe she’d still be in my office, talking to me, instead of unconscious and battered and possibly fighting for her life. ‘The accident was my fault.’

  ‘I do understand,’ Phil said calmly. ‘And it wasn’t your fault. It was an accident.’

  ‘Yes, but she was upset. If I hadn’t gone after her, she wouldn’t have run out into the road.’

  ‘You were trying to help her,’ Phil said. ‘I would’ve been concerned if you’d just let an upset client rush off without trying to make sure they were okay. But you didn’t make her run into the path of an oncoming vehicle.’

  I blinked away the tears threatening to form.

  ‘And besides, I’m not sure you’re in any fit state to drive. Sit down for a moment.’ He led me to one of the plastic chairs used for waiting clients.

  ‘I don’t have time,’ I muttered.

  ‘Please, just sit.’

  I sat next to him, putting Marcelina’s black bag on the floor.

  ‘What’s the first rule of counselling?’ His voice was steady and soothing.

  ‘You’re going to give me a supervision session now?’ I asked, my jaw dropping open.

  He smiled softly. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Self-care.’

  ‘That’s right. You’re no good to any client if you don’t take care of yourself first. You’ve witnessed a traumatic event, and you need to take a moment for you. To process it. To calm your system down. Your adrenal glands will be working at full whack right now.’

  ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea.’ Janet disappeared into the small kitchen area behind her desk.

  ‘And another rule of counselling is that you’re not responsible for other people’s actions.’

  ‘But my job is to help people. I failed her.’

  ‘If Marcelina wasn’t ready to talk to you, then you have to accept that. You went after her to make sure she was okay. You didn’t force her to run in the direction of the main road.’

  ‘She was trying to get away from me. I should’ve just stopped. Maybe if I hadn’t—’

  ‘Exactly. Maybe. We can all run through hundreds of “maybe” scenarios. What you’re feeling is guilt, which is normal, but you didn’t cause her any harm. It happened, and you can’t change that. What you need to be wary of is compassion fatigue. We talked about it before in your supervision sessions, remember? You feel too deeply for your clients.’

  I looked up at the ceiling, fighting to stay calm and professional when my stomach was churning with fear for Marcelina’s condition. I nodded. He was right. I knew that. But the problem with me was that I was an empath. I felt people’s pain and emotions deeply. I knew I needed to stop the negative guilty thoughts, but I wasn’t ready to just yet. I sat there, feeling awful about the whole thing, trying to slow my racing mind.

  ‘I’ll handle speaking to Marcelina’s parents, so you don’t need to worry about that,’ he said. ‘We’ll also email out our standard offer of the department’s services to all students, in case anyone affected by the incident wants to talk about it. When you’re feeling a bit calmer, what I would suggest is that you type up some brief notes of the session you had before the accident. You might not remember everything right now because you’ve had a shock, but that’s okay; you can add to it later.’

  I glanced at him. ‘So you do think it’s my fault.’

  ‘No, I don’t. But you still need to protect yourself.’ He said it sympathetically, and yes, he was right again. Basically, he was telling me to cover my arse.

  ‘I need to be with Marcelina. I’m supposed to be here to support her, and I let her down. Badly.’ I had to apologise to her, if nothing else.

  ‘I understand that, of course. Just type up a summary of the session first, and when you’re finished, you’ll be in a better state to drive to the hospital. You won’t be able to see her right now anyway. They’ll be working on her.’

  I opened my mouth to argue that we were just wasting time, but he was still my supervisor, and I had to do what he asked. So I nodded and walked into my office.

  I put Marcelina’s bag on the edge of my desk, sat in front of my laptop, and brought up Marcelina’s scant file. It contained only the details I’d known before she arrived.

  Janet brought in a cup of tea and put it on my desk with a kind smile. ‘It’s got two sugars in it.’

  I gave her a half smile of thanks but ignored the cup. It was very kind of her, but hot, sweet tea for shock wasn’t going to help.

  I typed in a brief summary of the session: Marcelina had reported trouble sleeping and nightmares. She’d thought she was sleepwalking. She’d said she wasn’t on any medication or using recreational drugs. She was—

  I stopped abruptly as I remembered that she’d mentioned hearing voices. Had Marcelina really said that, or had I misheard? I couldn’t be certain, so I didn’t include it. But what I’d definitely heard her say, as she lay bleeding and broken on the ground, were the words ‘watching me’ and ‘shadow man’.

  I frowned at the screen, wondering whether to add that into the report. What did that mean? Was she referring to the shadows of the crowd around her as she was disorientated? Was she confused from the head injury she’d suffered? I couldn’t be sure, so I didn’t put it in.

  But being an empath meant I didn’t just listen to people’s words. I heard their tone, read body language—those subtle movements, expressions on their faces, their eyes. I read their silence, too, and could hear what people didn’t say. And what I was absolutely sure of was that Marcelina had been scared. Terrified, in fact. And I knew better than most people what real fear looked like.

  Chapter 13

  Detective Becky Harris

  I watched Toby’s retreating back and wondered what to do next. I needed some basic supplies, and there was a small supermarket in the union building—the place was like a village. I wandered around the food court then stopped outside a cookie kiosk with an amazing selection that I salivated over before heading to the Co-op to buy a few bits and pieces.


  I still had more investigation files to go through, so I made my way back to my accommodation and went into the communal kitchen with my shopping bags. I put away milk, juice, and butter in the fridge on Vicky’s shelf. It didn’t feel right to scrub off what was left of her name, so I didn’t touch the label. I opened Vicky’s cupboard and chucked her left-behind cereal in a large plastic bin by the door. After putting away a box of Alpen, a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a box of tea bags, I set myself up at the kitchen table and opened the laptop.

  As I scoffed down a sandwich, I logged in to the new email account Sutherby had set up for me and sent a quick message to his equally anonymous address he’d given me, updating him on what had happened so far, which wasn’t exactly a lot. Then I turned my attention to reading through the statements of the parents of Ajay, Natalie, and Vicky again. None of them had any inkling that their kids had fallen in with a wrong crowd or had been struggling with any particular issues.

  None of them thought their kids had any mental health issues. Ajay’s parents described him as very intelligent, conscientious, caring, and hard-working. Natalie’s dad was dead, but her mum described her as a fun-loving, happy person who enjoyed life and had been looking forward to the whole university experience. Vicky was described as being shy, with only a few close friends, because she felt more comfortable in small groups. Her parents said she was serious and studious.

  I thought about the video of Vicky seemingly sleepwalking. Ajay’s and Natalie’s friends had described the same thing. Was it possible they’d sleepwalked into their tragedies? I knew sleepwalking could be triggered by anxiety and stress, as well as medication and recreational drug use, but was it possible to sleepwalk in the daytime when these tragic incidents had occurred? I turned to the internet again and discovered that in extreme cases, the person affected could carry out complex activities, like driving a car. Most episodes lasted less than ten minutes but could be longer. After waking, the person usually had no memory of the episode or what they’d done, or their memory would be patchy.