I was surprised to see the outline of a figure through the glass. I stood up uncertainly and walked over to the door. It had begun to rain again a few hours earlier, blurring the night outside into a near-impenetrable veil of blue and grey. It took me a second or two to realise who was there.
I hurried to slide the door open, letting in a rush of chilly air, and clutched my wool jacket more tightly to my chest. ‘Davie, what are you doing here?’ I shook my head, staring. He was soaked to the skin. ‘You’re wet through. Come in.’
Davie shook his head. The greenish kitchen light cast dark shadows across his features, and I couldn’t read his expression. ‘I just have to—Okay, listen.’ His voice sounded rough, and halting. Oddly unfamiliar. Leaning in, he fixed me with an urgent look. I could make out the expression on his face now: concentration, and a deep undercurrent of anxiety. ‘I just wanted to quickly tell you something.’ He took an audible breath. ‘I think you were right. Ashton isn’t a good guy. And nor are the people he hangs out with. That… that group is bad news, Mabel. Really bad. The kind of people you want to give a seriously wide berth.’
I stared at him, perplexed, trying to make sense of his words. ‘What do you mean?’ I took a step towards him. Water was soaking into my socks, but I barely noticed. All of a sudden, I was cold, and not just because of the rain: I was shivering more inside than out.
Davie ran a hand over his cropped black hair. ‘I can’t tell you any more right now. Just trust me, okay? Stay away from them. And whatever you do, don’t go to any more of their parties.’
I couldn’t quite decide whether to be amused or disconcerted. The result was a crooked grin. ‘Wait, so you’re telling me the guy Zoe’s hanging out with tonight is–what? A threat? And you expect me to let her go alone?’
He shook his head vehemently. ‘Tell Zoe she can’t go either.’
My pulse began to race, although I still wasn’t sure what Davie was really telling me. Part of me didn’t doubt him, because he was putting into words exactly what I’d felt all week. The feeling I couldn’t explain to Zoe because I didn’t understand it myself. ‘It’sZoe. You know what she’s like, Davie. In what parallel universe would she listen to me? Especially if I don’t even give her a reason?’
I took a deep breath. This whole thing was silly. Sure, Ashton probably wasn’t the decent, kind-hearted person Zoe wanted him to be, but that didn’t mean he wasdangerous. We were talking about a bunch of spoilt, cliquey undergrads here, not the mafia. Besides, I knew how Davie could get sometimes. When he was working on a story, he had a tendency to get carried away, so whatever he thought he knew about Ashton, it might turn out to be nothing.
I forced my lips into a placid smile, perhaps as much to reassure myself as him. ‘Come on, Davie. What’s really going on here?’
His brow creased deeply, the muscles tense in his jaw. I could almost hear the cogs whirring. Then he shook his head jerkily and focused on me. ‘I’ll explain everything, just give me some time, okay? I want to be completely sure.’
‘God, you sound like we’re the main characters in some cheap horror flick. You know, low on budget, high on gore. That kind.’
I crossed my arms, trying not to shiver. I wasn’t sure if it was the cold rain against my skin, or Davie’s warning. As much as I tried to think rationally, to explain away what he was telling me, the look on his face made me uneasy. I felt like I was under threat from something I couldn’t see. Like I could be attacked at any moment, and there was no way to tell what it was or where it might come from.
Davie gave a hoarse laugh. ‘Jesus. You don’t have a fucking clue, Mabel.’
I frowned, confused, but he was already backing away. The grey rain obscured his shape, and I caught only a hazy glimpse of his eyes, still fixed on me intently. ‘Keep away from those people. Please. Promise me.’
There were several retorts and questions on the tip of my tongue, but something made me bite them back. Even in the bluish dusk, I could see his pupils were clouded with worry. So instead, I gave a weak smile. ‘Sure. Fine.’
He nodded, relieved, and turned to go. ‘I’ll text you tomorrow. Look after yourself.’
‘You, too,’ I replied, but he was already leaving, passing through the arbour on the other side of the patio and vanishing into the night.
Just as I slid the door shut, heart pounding, Zoe walked into the kitchen. Without so much as a glance in my direction, she dumped her bowl in the sink and opened the fridge to take out a bottle of wine.
I girded my loins. ‘Zoe.’
She turned to me, the gleam of irritation in her eyes as striking as the shimmer on her lids. ‘For the hundredth time: I’m going, Mabel. I respect that you don’t want to come with me, but you also need to respect the fact that I’m not staying here, okay? You can’t?—’
‘Fine,’ I interrupted, giving up. There was no point trying–it was impossible to persuade Zoe not to go. Besides, how could I explain something I didn’t even understand myself?
Listen, Davie was just here, and he said your new boyfriend is a really bad guy. He wouldn’t give me any details, but would you mind breaking off all contact with him anyway, pretty please?
Even I wouldn’t buy that. There was nothing I could say to stop her. And nothing, after what I’d heard from Davie, that could stop me going with her.
Sorry, Davie, I thought, then I cleared my throat and put on a conciliatory smile. ‘I actually just wanted to ask if I can come with you after all.’
Chapter4
Cliff
The white moon was suspended in the sky beyond the large east window. Its light broke through the stained glass, casting a mosaic on the floor of the chapel. I examined my pallid fingers in their borrowed finery. Blue and red and yellow and green. Strange how colourful one can appear when inside everything is grey.
To me, King’s College Chapel was the most beautiful place in the whole university. You could see the work that had gone into the building over the hundred years it took to finish it. During our first week at Cambridge, I’d spent a lot of time here. At night, when tourists and believers alike had vanished, I stayed on alone, devoting hours to my study of the Gothicchapel. The fan vault, the altarpiece, the windows, the organ– every detail told its own story.
Everywhere I went, I began by seeking out a church. I’d always liked them. Not because they made me feel closer to any higher power, but because I felt closer to myself. In those vast halls, surrounded by columns, cool stone and vivid glass, the world receded. There were no distractions, no sea of smells or sounds or other stimuli. The world was loud, but churches were places of silence. It felt as though the universe had pressed pause as soon as I stepped through their wide-flung doors.
