Now, the hurt, the grief, is loose again, but it means there’s a possible answer to his illness. Perhaps he isn’t sick at all. Not in the traditional sense. It’s been his grief, masquerading as an illness, a brain tumour, to trick him. He understands.
‘Yes, I remember now,’ says Stephen, lowering his line of sight to the floor. His vision is blurring again, distorted around the edges.
Itdidhappen.
Rachel is dead. She has been all along.
His mind has been protecting itself from the pain, from the terror of what it would be like to face this world without her in it.
The detective reaches out and covers Stephen’s shaking hands with his own. ‘Grief is a terrible burden to carry alone, Mr Mallow. Don’t let the darkness win. Not again.’
Stephen looks up at him through hazy, tearful eyes. Something in him breaks into a million pieces in a way it’s never done before. Is that his heart breaking or his mind? Whatever it is, it’s a relief. For so long, Stephen has forced the barriers to stay up, to remain strong and stoic in the presence of others.
Not anymore. Not today.
Today, he’s allowing his barriers to come crashing down around him. Sometimes, it’s okay to grieve and show weakness. It’s what being human is all about.
‘Thank you,Graham. For rescuing me,’ he says with a weak smile. He wants to tell him that he’s wrong, that it’s not only the darkness that’s causing his illness. But he wants to protect his friend a little longer. Just a little longer.
‘Any time,Stephen. Any time.’
Chapter 41
GRAHAM
Graham hands Stephen a cup of coffee to help clear his whisky-infused head, but he has a feeling that Stephen’s already thinking a little clearer since he revealed the truth. He doesn’t mean to upset the man, make him relive the tragedy of what happened to his girlfriend, but revealing the truth was the only way he was going to get his friend back, thinking with a level head.
Graham takes a slurp of his own coffee, but it’s still too hot, so he places the mug on the table in front of him. ‘I am sorry, Stephen. About Rachel. She was a lovely young woman.’ His voice catches onStephen. It’s always been their thing, to not use first names. It’s a form of respect between them, and a small in-house joke they’ve continued. But at the moment, it feels right, more personal.
Stephen nods. ‘Thank you. Yes. She was. It was a shock when I found her. My mind … I suppose you could say that I didn’t handle it very well. I found her … in the bathroom, dressed in her pyjamas, getting ready for bed. They say, even if I’d been there, I wouldn’t have been able to do anything fast enough to save her after she fell and hit her head, but it didn’t help. She died instantly, they said. She’d have felt little pain. My mind shut down. I let the darkness in.’
‘It’s understandable …’
‘No, it isn’t. I, of all people, should know how powerful it is, especially living in Cherry Hollow. The grief was too much. Why does it happen? Why does death happen so suddenly?’ Stephen looks out the window towards the hanging tree, but it’s too dark to see anything. ‘One second, she was alive. And then she was gone. Just like that. I would understand if it was a bullet or she was hit by a car or something, but it was an accident. She slipped on a puddle of water which she didn’t clean up after taking a shower. There was no warning. Nothing.’ Stephen shakes his head, covering his face with his hands.
A silence looms around them. The darkness outside feels as if it’s trying to squeeze the cottage tighter and tighter. The air is thinner.
‘I think we’ve spoken about this enough for one night, wouldn’t you agree?’ says Stephen.
‘Yes, if you’re sure. I’d still like you to be careful though, considering you’ve had a seizure. Real or not, your body is recovering from severe mental and emotional trauma.’
Stephen nods, feeling his eyelids growing heavy. ‘I think we’re being watched. Maybe not right this minute, but … I’ve seen several people around the village keeping a close eye onus. Tonight, at the bar, before I face-planted the floor, I also felt many pairs of eyes on me.’
‘Speaking of which, how did the talk with Frank go before you … you know?’ asks Graham.
‘He tried his best to lie, but I saw right through him. He told me about a curse on the Hammel family that started with John in 1925. Also, Sophia and Frank had an argument the day before she disappeared because she kept asking questions about John Hammel.’
‘We already know a lot of this.’
‘Yes, but I did find out one new piece of information. Ceri Griffiths.’
‘Ah, the infamous name we’ve been after.’
‘Do you know anyone by that name?’
Graham shakes his head. ‘Unfortunately, no.’
‘Did you ever speak to that friend of yours? Karen, was it?’
