Chapter Eighteen

         Sean was waiting for me in the middle of an industrial state, in his brothers’ car. The rain was lashing down hard, yet I hesitated before opening the door to the vehicle; maybe I would be safer out here? But my jacket was soaked through to the skin and my feet ached from the heels I had worn for my disaster of a television appearance, so perhaps against my better judgement, I got in. A pop song was barely legible on the radio, drowned out by the incessant thwump-thwump of the windscreen wipers.

             “Blair, thank you for agreeing to meet me. Did you come alone, like I asked?”

              “Of course.”

His face was pale and gaunt, his eyes underlined with purple shadows. He reached out to touch me and I found myself edging away, pressing myself against the car door.

              “I’m not going to hurt you, Blair.”

               I let out a deep breath, relaxing a little as he took my hand. “Then what’s going on, Sean? If you’re innocent then why are you running from the police? Why were you harassing Dayna?”

               He turned to gaze out of the windscreen, dropping my hand, as if too ashamed to look at me. “It started off as a warning. After your dad died, and you tried to hurt yourself, I know a lot of that pain come from feeling alone. I saw how hurt you were when Dayna never called, never visited. But I was there, Blair, everyday – but it was never enough, was it?”

                I shook my head. “That’s not true. You are enough, I was always grateful for all you did for me. It’s just…”

                “It’s just I wasn’t Dayna. It’s ok, I get it now, you don’t need to explain yourself. She always had you wrapped around her little finger, doing her bidding; it’s only natural you were hurt when she wasn’t there for you.” His lips twisted and turned in anger, almost spitting the words as he spoke of her. “Dayna was a user, and she used you the most. I was so angry when she finally came to see you and acted as if she was the best friend in the world. As soon as she was back on the scene you started to push me away again and I’ll admit I was jealous. I knew it wouldn’t last, that the guilt would wear off and she’d go back to ignoring you again. So I gave her a little nudge. The messages started as a warning but she wouldn’t listen Blair; she wouldn’t leave you alone.”

                 “Sean… I didn’t realise, I didn’t mean… I’m sorry you felt I prioritised Dayna over you, or that you weren’t enough; but that was my fault. Not hers. You shouldn’t have-“

                 I flinched as he shouted over me. “Really, Blair? Even now you are still defending her?”

                “Yes! Yes I am! She’s dead Sean, she isn’t here to defend herself. It’s me you should be angry at, she didn’t do anything wrong.”

                “She took you away from me! Whenever she was around it was like I didn’t exist!”

                 “And what? You wanted me all to yourself like some kind of property? You’re fucking crazy!”

                  “Oh I’m crazy? Aren’t you the one who made a fake account to get your rocks off watching your best friend strip on camera? Aren’t you the one who tried to top yourself? Don’t you think I know what you did, after she rejected you?”

I felt as if he had punched me in the stomach.

                    “I’m out of here!” I shouted, turning to open the door.

             “No!” he screamed, slamming his hand down on the lock button.

              I tugged at the door handle in vain. “Sean come on, let me out!”

              “I’m not letting you go until you listen to me! Until you accept what she done!”

His eyes looked mad with rage, his once sweet and innocent face wore the same expression of disdain his brother often did. I shrank back into the car door, letting out a scream as he leaned towards me, reaching out to grab me.

                “Calm down,” he roared. “Just listen to me!”

I screamed louder, twisting my body to avoid his grasp. He grabbed my arm, his nails digging into it as he placed his other hand over my mouth.

                 “Please just stop screaming and listen to me.”

I didn’t let the sadness and desperation in his eyes hinder me. I opened my mouth and sank my teeth into his palm. He tasted of earth and grass; apparently, you could take the boy out of the farm, but you couldn’t take the taste of the farm out of the boy! He jerked his hand away, cursing under his breath. I took the moment to flail away from him, kicking out towards him. I felt the impact as the heel of my stiletto caught him right in the corner of his eye. He let out a guttural scream, falling back against his own door, his hands clutching his face. Before he had time to regain composure, I leaned over to press the unlock button and dived out of the car, landing face first into a puddle. As I landed, I remembered the way I had fallen that night, and lay helplessly on the tarmac as Dayna walked out of view. I had been so weak and pathetic. Cringing, I pushed myself up from the ground and darted towards the exit of the carpark. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Sean running towards me, blood trickling from his busted up eye.

I kicked off the shoes and sprinted out of the gate and around the corner, my feet kicking up the water below me and soaking my tights. As I made my way down the street, I began frantically waving my hands above my head. That was the signal. Just as Sean turned the corner the street lit up with blue and red lights and Macdonald stood, hands across his chest, smug smile on his face, waiting. The jig was up; did Sean really think I would be stupid enough to meet him without alerting the police? He closed his eyes, lifting his hands in defeat as he sank to his knees and waited to be cuffed.

               Macdonald lit up a cigarette before outstretching the packet towards me. “Good work, Miss Campbell. Thank you for trusting us.”

              I accepted his offer, taking a long drag. “Thank you for trusting me.”

A pang of guilt hit me as I watched them walk Sean towards the car and suddenly his words came rushing back to me. He had said he knew who hurt Dayna, but he hadn’t told me yet.

              “Wait!” I shouted, tossing the half-smoked cigarette to the floor. “Can I just say something to him, really quick?”

               Macdonald shrugged. “We need to get him medical assistance – you did quite a number on his eye – and I want to get him in for questioning as soon as possible.”

If Dayna had been there, she would have fluttered her eyelashes and pouted to get her way. Instead, I stared at Macdonald pleadingly, promising it would just take a second.

           He rolled his eyes. “Fine, go, before they get him in the car.”

I darted forward, placing my hand on Sean’s shoulder.

            “Sean, I didn’t do this to catch you out – I did it because you clearly need help. I’ll be there for you, I’ll do everything I can to help.”

            He glared at me with empty eyes, as if any love he had for me was drained away. “I don’t need your help, and I’m sure as hell done with helping you. I’m ready to tell the police everything you’ve done.”

             “What’s that supposed to mean?”

             “It means I was there that night, Blair. I saw everything and I’m done covering it up for you.”

             “Covering what up?”

But before he could answer, the police had ushered him into the back of the car. I watched as the car pulled away, before turning back to Detective Macdonald.

            “Come on,” he said, “I’ll get a patrol car to take you home, you’ve missed the last bus.”

             I nodded with a smile, beginning to follow him to a car when another police officer came around the corner.  

             “Detective! Detective!” the dishevelled cop ran towards him, a plastic evidence bag clutched in his hand. “I found this in his car – I think it’s the murder weapon!”

              “Murder weapon? I thought you knew what it was – she was stabbed, right?”

              “She was stabbed by something round and sharp, we never found it.”

The cop finally caught up and tossed the bag towards Macdonald. I peered over his shoulder at the contents, recognising it as soon as I saw it. It was a long, red handled screwdriver. It was from a personalised set that I had bought as a gift. It was from a personalised set that hung pride of place in a shed; Granda’s shed.