Finding Grace(67)

‘I’ve got the photographs if the police are in any doubt of your involvement. Do you really want to ruin your life? Think hard about going to the police. It would kill your dad if he thought you were involved in this, even before I could get to him.’

And deep inside, Lucie knew that for once, he spoke the truth.





Forty-Seven





Back in her room on campus, Lucie packed a few things into an overnight bag. She grabbed her coat and went outside to wait for the cab she’d ordered.

She’d booked a small bed and breakfast on the edge of the city. She’d seen it from the bus, always thought it looked neat and friendly. She couldn’t stay here tonight; she couldn’t risk Stefan coming over to try and persuade her to work for him. She needed to think.

The taxi and the night away were costing a lot of money; more than she could afford. But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was that she had bought herself some time alone to think the whole terrible mess through properly. Once she’d considered everything and thought carefully, she wouldn’t look back again. She wouldn’t endlessly debate it in her head once she had made a firm decision. She’d promised herself that much.

The landlady of the establishment was brisk and efficient. Lucie told her she was visiting a friend and would only be staying the one night. The woman nodded and barely looked at her, which suited Lucie just fine.

When she got up to the small, impersonal room that smelled of stale cigarettes and damp, she climbed fully clothed under the cold, scratchy covers and gave in to the shaking she’d had to control up till now. She sobbed into the pillow, unable to shake the memory of Rhonda’s staring eyes and gaping mouth from her troubled mind.

So, she had two choices.

Go to the police or forget everything she had seen.

She knew the right thing to do was report the murder she’d witnessed, but either way, Rhonda would still be dead. She couldn’t put that wrong right.

Her fingers were still quivering. The look on Stefan’s face had been so focused, so devoid of emotion. Thinking about that same face, staring at her, kissing her, when they’d made love… it made her stomach tighten to the point of physical pain.

Stefan was a convincing liar and Lucie was the opposite. If she went to the police to report Rhonda’s murder, she believed, without doubt, that Stefan would carry out his threat and tell them that she was as guilty as he was.

In contrast to Stefan’s convincing line of defence, Lucie knew herself enough to know that she’d quickly dissolve into tears and become vague of details under pressure.

She’s carried Stefan’s rucksack with her in the taxi… how would she explain not reporting him immediately, upon discovering the drugs?

On top of that, she’d seen Gregg in the library and told him everything. So she couldn’t deny she had gone to Stefan’s house!

She tried to reason, to think, through the thick fog in her head.

She’d been infatuated with Stefan, maybe even loved him, and she’d certainly trusted him completely. In the space of a few hours, that trust had been utterly destroyed. Lucie was in shock at the sudden revelation that she had been sleeping with a monster.

It could easily have been her, suffocated to death in Stefan’s room. She would only have had to put a foot wrong, or anger him in some way. She shuddered, unable to process the horror of it.

Maybe, if she’d realised Rhonda’s own disturbing history, they could’ve been friends. Rhonda had seemed infatuated with Stefan, but she’d owed him. And he had betrayed her, just like her own family.

Lucie’s eyes prickled in regret.

What a sad end for poor Rhonda. A waste of a young life.

She’d realised pretty quickly that the only way she was going to get out of Stefan’s house unscathed was to play along with him, at least for the time being.

Gregg’s words echoed in her head. He’s always taking girls back there…

She’d been an utter fool. Na?ve and stupid. And now, she’d even managed to put her own dear dad in danger.

Her overriding thought was that she just wanted it all to stop, to go away.

‘Please God, please let it be OK,’ she whispered.

She wanted to get away from this godforsaken place and go back home to live safely and predictably with her father again.

She pulled the quilt around her and buried her face in the rough, starched pillow. It offered little comfort.

She wished she’d never left Nottingham. She’d never in her entire life wanted to hear her father’s voice as much as she did right now.



An hour later, Lucie sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall, a blank expanse of cream-painted woodchip wallpaper.

She’d spoken to her father, and his response had been as expected; to say he was gutted was an understatement.

Still, the upshot of the fifteen uncomfortable minutes she’d spent on the phone was that her dad had grudgingly agreed to re-engage the man-with-the-van to collect her packed belongings the day after next.

It was hard to keep her thoughts on track. The logistics of going back to Nottingham seemed so inconsequential now, although it was of utmost importance to Lucie to get back to the safety of home as soon as possible.

A girl was dead because of Stefan O’Hara, and Lucie was the only person apart from him who knew what had happened.