Cath Staincliffe - Blink of an Eye

I struggled for something to say, some comfort to give her. In the end I just agreed with her. ‘I know, darling, we just have to get on with it.’

She seemed angry at that, a hard glint in her eyes as she retorted, ‘ You didn’t do it, you don’t have to…’ then broke off, too agitated to articulate.

Phil intervened. ‘Have you remembered anything else?’

She gave a shake of her head. Although she was frightened and furious and feeling guilty, there was a marked improvement in her physical state. The procedure to drain her lung had gone smoothly, and being able to breathe easily again meant she had greater energy and less pain. Apparently the scars from the operation were healing nicely, too. The staff had given her a shower and she now wore her own nightdress instead of a hospital gown.

‘I’ve bought you a phone,’ I said. ‘There’s credit on it.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, a little shamefacedly after her outburst.

I gave her my own phone so she could copy in numbers, and then talked to her about some of the practical things that might need sorting out. She found it hard to concentrate, I noticed, but was eventually able to remember that she’d only recently paid a credit-card bill and that the Jobcentre stuff was in a folder in her room. It did seem as though the memory loss was simply around the trauma.

We were going to be lucky. I hardly dared believe it, but any time I considered our situation, I was aware of the Vaseys. The accident bound us together, reverberated through our lives. If I could have, I’d have gone round there and sat with Tina and Simon and shared their grief, supported them as best I could. But I’d have been an intruder, the do-gooding ghoul. My place was with Naomi. But again and again my thoughts returned to Tina Vasey and the pain and wretched grief she must be feeling.

Carmel

I began to read up on amnesia, wondering if I could do anything to help Naomi regain the missing hours. Sometimes visiting the place where the precipitating event occurred could trigger recall or flashbacks, in the same way that music or smells might. I thought of how I would retrace my steps when I mislaid my car keys and then remember where I’d left them. I could hardly re-orchestrate the barbecue for her, but it couldn’t do any harm to find out more about it: who she’d talked to, where she’d been. I could also see if anyone agreed with Suzanne that Naomi had been drunk. Of course I was hoping that they would contradict Suzanne’s version and confirm Alex’s, bolstering my belief that Naomi would not have driven the car in a state of inebriation.

There was plenty I could tell Naomi from the time we’d overlapped at Suzanne’s, but I’d need to talk to other people too: colour in the picture of what happened later. It was the least I could do. I had to do something to try and find out about the missing hours, in order to help her get her memory back.

I talked to Suzanne and Jonty first. She looked a little sceptical. ‘You think it’ll be any help?’

‘I can try. I can’t do nothing. Anyway, other people can tell me what state Naomi was in.’

‘I’ve told you, she was drunk.’

‘That’s not what Alex says. Maybe she was just being giddy, having a laugh. Maybe you misread the situation,’ I said.

‘You don’t believe me?’ Her eyes were shining with intensity. She didn’t give me the chance to answer. ‘She kept topping up her glass, she was the life and soul.’

‘Then why the fuck did you let her drive home if she was in such a state?’ I spoke more harshly than I intended.

Suzanne’s face shuttered closed. Then she glared at me. ‘It never occurred to me that she was driving.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, and squeezed her arm. ‘Of course you wouldn’t have let her go, if you’d known. You didn’t see them off?’

She looked at me like I was raving. I saw it was hardly the sort of small, intimate event where the hosts would escort each set of departing guests to the door.

‘Suzanne, this is family. If she’s convicted but there are no aggravating factors like alcohol, then she gets a lighter sentence.’

‘You’re on to a loser there, then.’

Was there a trace of jealousy buried in all this? Suzanne had wanted to show off her baby, so she’d organized a fabulous spread and even been graced with fine weather. But had she then found herself overlooked once Naomi arrived and started entertaining people?

I was determined not to get deflected from my cause. I took a breath and said, ‘Tell me everything you can remember about Naomi that day.’

‘She was in the garden most of the time,’ Suzanne said.

‘Can you remember what she was doing, and who she talked to?’

‘Erm, Julia from down the road and then Gordy later, and she was helping with the Chinese lanterns.’

‘It wasn’t even dark,’ I said.

‘Well, we wanted to do it while there were still some people here,’ Jonty said.

‘And then she was dancing with Pip. She talked to Alice and her husband, too,’ she said.

Jonty said, ‘And I saw her inside with Martin, I remember that.’

‘He’s my trainee,’ Suzanne reminded me.

I wrote down everything I could manage and they helped me put a very rough timing next to some things, like lighting the lanterns at seven and the dancing not long after.

What else might she have done? ‘Did she eat anything else? I know she had a plateful not long after they got here.’

Jonty had tended the barbecue on and off for about three hours so that as new guests arrived there were always freshly grilled steaks and kebabs. ‘Tuna – that’s right,’ he said so loudly I jumped in my seat and Ollie twitched.

‘Jonty,’ Suzanne scolded.

‘She did come back for more because she said she’d try the fish this time.’

‘Any idea when that was?’

‘Five-ish?’

‘We left at five,’ I said.

‘After that, then. I was nearly done,’ he said. ‘Oh, and she borrowed my camera.’

‘Could you copy me the photos?’ Along with the ones from Phil’s camera, I could put together a visual record of the afternoon.

‘Sure, I’ll put them on a data stick. I think there’s some with her in too.’

‘You said she kept topping her glass up?’ I spoke to Suzanne. ‘Do you remember when you saw that?’

‘Every time I noticed her she had a glass in her hand.’

‘But you don’t know what was in it.’

‘No, I don’t.’ She held my gaze, unflinching.

I backed away from the topic; there was nothing to be gained from quarrelling about it any further.

As we’d been talking, I’d made a list of the people who had figured, and now we went through the photos and I linked names to faces and got people’s contact numbers. I noticed, though I didn’t point it out, that of all the photos that showed Naomi, there was only one where she was holding a glass – and that was when we had the champagne. So there was no damning pictorial evidence to support Suzanne’s story.

Ollie woke then and she fed him.

‘How’s work going?’ I asked Jonty.

‘Good, yeah. They’ve seen the rushes for the first film, Shrewsbury, and everybody’s happy. We’ve a great editor on board. So we’re hopeful we’ll get a second series.’

‘Brilliant. Where’s next?’

‘When Belfast is done, we’re in Aberdeen.’ His phone rang then, and he glanced at the display. Picked it up. ‘Natalie, my PA. She must have heard me talking about work.’

I wondered how Suzanne really felt about Jonty working away while Ollie was so small. I knew she was loyal and would never admit any dissatisfaction, and of course she knew how things worked in his business, but she must miss him, I thought. Just to have someone there to share the load, someone who could do the early-morning nappy change. Someone to supply cups of tea and take the baby out for a walk while she had a bath or a shower.