Thanks Jess for your ever lovely reviews!
Smithy returned to the hospital mid-morning the next day and acknowledged the nursing staff at the desk with a small smile on his way into Andrea's room. She was still sedated, a nurse standing by her side as she noted down her observations on a chart, and glanced around when he came in, giving him a small smile.
"You're here very early."
"Is that okay?"
"Of course," she said and replaced the chart in the holder at the end of the bed.
"How is she?"
"She's doing fine. The neurologist will review her sometime this morning, and all going well, we might be able to lift the sedation later today."
So he could be hearing her voice again today after spending all night worrying that he wouldn't be able to again, that he'd get a call from the hospital, saying she'd taken a turn for the worst. She gave him a gentle smile as if reading his thoughts.
"Even if we do, it will still take her a few hours to wake up. The sedation won't wear off instantly."
"Right," he said, disappointed, but resuming his seat by her side, holding her hand.
"Her parents have been calling through the night," she said. "They seem very anxious."
"I guess they would be, she's their only child," he said. "And a lot has happened in a short space of time. Did they give an ETA?"
"I think they stopped for the night somewhere in Manchester. I don't think they really wanted to, but…"
"Yeah, the drive wouldn't be safe when they're tired and worried. I think Andrea would understand."
"Yes, anyway, they said they were going to set off first thing, so they can't be very far away. I think her mum must be a nurse herself, judging by the questions she asked."
"Yeah she is," he said, remembering Andrea had told him so. "What about Kit Maynard?"
She gave him a look and asked; "are you a relative?"
"No," he said, bringing his warrant card from his pocket and flashing it at her. "I want to see he faces justice."
"Well, he's still alive," she said. "Albeit with machine support. He'll be reviewed later on as well, but he has some brain swelling, so… well anyway, he came off better than the poor girl."
He nodded mutely, but was honest enough to admit he struggled with Kirsty being called a 'poor girl'. If she'd just been honest from the start… It hadn't stopped him though leaving his own flowers outside the hospital this morning, along with others that had appeared since the previous day, left by kind strangers rocked by the tragedy. She'd paid a heavy price for her stupidity; losing her life couldn't be any harsher.
"Did she have a family? The girl?"
"Yeah. She had a little boy, too."
"Oh," said the nurse. "Poor kid. Hopefully his dad won't let him forget his mum."
From what he'd heard about Marc, Olly was probably the last thing on his mind, even with Kirsty's death. He didn't need to go into that now, though, and gave the nurse a tight smile and a nod.
"Anyway I need to go and join handover. We're at the desk if you want us."
"Thanks," he said as she left. He was alone then with the beeping of the machines for company. He held her hand to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss. "It's not quite how I imagined meeting your parents for the first time. I hope I get the seal of approval. I know what dads can be like when it comes to their little girls."
He watched her unmoving face, knowing she wasn't going to open her eyes yet, but wishing she would.
"Angus wondered if I'd have kids. I hadn't thought about it much before, I guess I just hadn't met the right person. I didn't get the chance to see where it went with Kerry. But now I have you." He gave her hand a squeeze. "If you'll let me. I love you. Nothing will change that. Make me happy, Andrea, when you wake up. Tell me you love me too, no 'you think'."
He glanced up at a knock on the door and waved Sam in. she pushed the door open and stepped in, rubbing sanitizer in her hands.
"How's she doing?"
"Still with us," he said, "As is he, unfortunately."
"Yeah, well, why should he get the easy way out?"
"True," he said. "How are Kirsty's family?"
"Devastated," Sam said, taking the seat next to Smithy. "They haven't told the little boy yet. I think they tried to get in touch with his dad, but he's 'tied up,' in his own words."
Smithy met Sam's roll of her eyes with a look of disbelief then shook himself out of it. This was the same man who cheated on his fiancé with her best friend, then abandoned the said friend with their son for someone who was barely out of school.
"They asked to see Andrea, but I said they should probably give it some time. For them and for her. I think some of their other children are coming down to be with them."
"Probably wise," said Smithy. "I don't think she could cope with being bombarded by visitors. What about him? Does he have any family?"
"Yeah," Sam said. "Remember that assault conviction he had when he was nineteen? It was against his own father."
"Oh? Like father, like son?"
"No, quite the contrary. It seems his story about having a 'rich daddy' was actually true. His dad is something of a property tycoon, put his son through private school, the works and Kit got involved in drugs. Went down a thoroughly dark path, and when his family found out, they told him to pack it in."
"And in return, his old man got a beating?"
"Yep," Sam said. "Unfortunately, when he got involved in drugs, he was dealing them from his parents' home, and his younger sister found them."
"Did she…?"
"No, she survived, but barely. Mr Maynard said Kit showed no remorse whatsoever, and his sister shouldn't have eaten them in the first place – never mind the fact he hid them in her favourite doll. She was only six."
Smithy looked at her open mouthed and said; "it just gets better and better, doesn't it?"
"Or worse, depending on how you look at it. I contacted Kit's family when we were first looking for him, his father said Kit gladly and willingly left when he got what was his. Mr Maynard gave him his inheritance and that was the last time they saw him. I contacted them again of course to tell them about what happened yesterday."
"I take it they're not rushing to his bedside?" Smithy said coolly.
"No, but he sounded miserable all the same," said Sam and inclined her head at the bed. "Wished her all the best, but said he couldn't let Kit back into his life."
"Fair," said Smithy. "Someone so privileged in life and they end up like that."
"Sometimes privilege isn't always the good start in life everyone thinks it is," Sam said. "In Mr Maynard's words, he gave Kit the world and he threw it away. University, place in the family business, all down the drain. Once the drugs got hold of him, he was never the same person."
Smithy's lip curled; he thought the less he said, probably the better, even if it was about Kit. Sam thought so too, for she hurriedly changed the subject.
"What about Andrea's parents?"
"The nurse said they stopped for the night but were setting off again first thing, so they should be here anytime."
"Not quite the way you imagined meeting them?"
"No," he said. "But it had to happen."
"Well I hope it goes okay," she said, standing up. "Don't be disappointed if it doesn't go the way you want though, they're going to be highly emotional."
"Yeah, I know."
"I'll see you later. Keep me updated if anything else happens."
She approached the nursing station to raised voices, and as she got closer, saw a girl, both palms flat on the desk, leaning fiercely into her face.
"…I don't care if he's being guarded by the Queen's personal security. I want. To see. My brother!"
"I'm very sorry, but…"
"It's okay," Sam said, stepping up to the girl. "Let me handle this."
The girl turned to her, offended as if Sam's use of the word 'this' was personally directed at her rather than the situation at hand.
"And who are you?"
"DS Nixon," Sam said and showed her identification.
The girl's hands slid off the counter. "You called my dad?"
"Yes. You must be Kit's sister. Your dad didn't say you were coming."
"That's because he doesn't know I'm here. I want to see Kit. Now."
"Why don't we have a bit of a chat first? Then," Sam said as the girl opened her mouth to protest. "I'll arrange it. I promise."
The girl closed her mouth as if defeated, and she nodded wearily. Sam turned back to the nurse behind the desk.
"Is there somewhere more private we can talk?"
"Of course. Use the relative's room. I'll see that you're not disturbed."
Why should I play this game of pretend?
Remembering through a second-hand sorrow?
Such a great son and wonderful friend
Oh, don't the tears just pour
I could curl up and hide in my room
There in my bed, still sobbing tomorrow
I could give in to all of the gloom
But tell me, tell me what for
Sam followed Kit's sister into the room and closed the door behind them. The girl went to the window, staring out over East London. Her body seemed frail, almost too frail to hold her up, her curly black hair so like her brother's was pulled back into a ponytail.
"What's your name? I can't keep calling you Kit's sister."
"Shannon."
"How old are you?"
"Old enough," Shannon said shortly, then turned back to Sam as if ashamed of her rudeness. "Twenty-two."
"When did you last see Kit?"
"When I was six, after his drugs nearly killed me. My favourite dolly's head came off and out spills all these pink pills, and stupid me thinks my dad had put them there as a nice surprise."
"Your dad did say you got very ill," Sam said.
"Ill?" Shannon echoed, rounding on her. "I nearly died, Detective!"
"Sam, please."
"Sam," Shannon said as if impatient. "He nearly killed me, and he didn't care. Apparently it was my fault; that I shouldn't have been so stupid to take something that he put into my doll!"
It had been sixteen years since this incident, but the rage seemed to be just as strong, but Sam supposed that as a nine year old, she probably hadn't quite grasped the concept of what Kit had done. As if she read Sam's mind, Shannon's lip curled.
"I realised pretty quickly that he didn't care," she said. "I heard him tell dad that I was stupid for taking them to begin with. You have no idea what it was like with him, no idea…"
"Well why don't you tell me?" Sam said, taking a seat on one end of the sofa. After a moment, Shannon followed her lead.
"As long as I can remember," she said. "He's never been a good person. Mum and dad swear up and down there was a time he was a good lad, but I never saw that. I don't know. Maybe I just don't want to."
She scowled and looked away, back out of the window and continued speaking.
"I was only a kid when he started with all the poison. We were never that close anyway though; what seventeen year old would be interested in hanging out with their kid sister? It started to bother me a bit as I got older, all my other friends who had older big brothers, they all talked about how their big brothers were so overprotective of them, and Kit couldn't care less about me."
It was fascinating, Sam thought, to get insight into a man you'd spent weeks chasing, who was a literal ghost, the bits and pieces she already knew about him, she'd heard through Andrea and Kirsty, and it seemed that despite that, he hadn't gone out of his way to be open with either of them, at least not in the personal sense. When she'd spoken to Mr Maynard, he hadn't really sounded angry, just sad, and she was sure she'd heard crying in the background which she now realised had to be Mrs Maynard. But Shannon? Though Kit had left her life before her age even went into the double digits, her anger was beyond words.
"He destroyed our family, Sam, and he's still doing it now."
Why should I have a heavy heart?
Why should I start to break in pieces?
Why should I go and fall apart for you?
Why should I play the grieving girl and lie?
Saying that I miss you
And that my world has gone
dark without your light?
I will sing no requiem tonight
Angus had texted to say he'd come in later that day, he had a meeting with the estate agents about selling the house. As much as he liked Angus, Smithy had been half glad to be able to be alone with Andrea. He was sitting with her hand to his mouth, willing her to open her eyes. The review, from what he could understand of the medical jargon, had sounded positive, and the consultant had confirmed they were lifting the sedation, and it seemed like the longest wait of his life. Voices approached and he got to his feet as a man and woman came in, their hands clasped, and worry etched in every inch of their faces. It seemed even though Andrea's parents had stopped for the night, sleep wasn't something that they'd gotten. Facially, Andrea was all her father though she had her mother's dark eyes rather than her dad's green. They locked eyes with him as they walked to the bedside. Andrea's mother took her other hand.
"Andrea? Tiggy? Its mum and dad, darling."
"They said it'll take a while," he said. "For the sedation to wear off. But it should do soon."
"Yes, I know. I'm a nurse."
He heard the terse tone in Andrea's mother's voice, but didn't take offence. This must have been the longest day of their life. Andrea's dad put a hand on his wife's shoulder.
"Ailsa," he said, his voice slightly scolding, then looked at Smithy. "Sorry, son, it's been a stressful time. I'm Lachlan, Andrea's dad."
"Dale Smith," Smithy said, accepting Lachlan's handshake. "Smithy."
"Ah. Right, yes, Inspector Gold, she did mention…well, thank you. She says you've been very good to our daughter."
"Yes," Ailsa said, tearing her eyes away from Andrea. "Thank you. Sorry for being so rude, it's just…"
"You don't need to explain, please."
She gave a grateful smile and sat in the chair opposite Smithy, Lachlan by her side. Smithy sat back in his chair, still holding Andrea's hand.
"Your Inspector," Ailsa said. "She said Kirsty…how did it happen?"
"It's not very clear exactly, the only people who saw were at quite a distance and we haven't had a chance to get it from Andrea, but…there was a man. She…she said she told you about him."
"This Kit?" Lachlan said, spitting the name one might do with Hitler's. "The man she met travelling? I couldn't believe it, all these years…I even saw him in the pictures she showed us and she never said a thing until a few weeks ago."
"No," Smithy said. "She hadn't to anyone else either, if it's any consolation. She found it really hard to talk about.
"Even to us?" Ailsa said, clutching Andrea's hand. "We wouldn't have judged you, darling, not about any of it. Even the baby."
The thing she feared they'd never forgive her for. Smithy bit his lip, wondering if he should be there. This all seemed a bit personal and family-like.
"Look, I'll give you some time…"
"Son," Lachlan said as Smithy made to rise. "Look. We've had the most agonising eighteen hours of our lives, worried the next call we'd get would be to tell us our daughter was dead and all we know is that some madman with a grudge has been terrorising her for weeks. Please. We need some answers."
Smithy settled back into his seat, sighing. "Look, she and Kirsty met him travelling. He and Andrea had…well, she calls it a holiday romance but by everyone else's accounts, he took it much more seriously. Though, he still found time to see Kirsty behind her back, so I'm not sure how much of it was based on real feelings for her."
Lachlan and Ailsa exchanged a look, and Smithy knew they were thinking about Kirsty's affair with Marc.
"She got pregnant, but she found out he was dealing drugs, so she broke it off. I'm sure she's told you all of this. What happened in Venezuela?"
"Him falling from the waterfall?" Ailsa said with a haughty sniff. "Pity he couldn't have drowned then and there, and done everyone a favour."
"Ailsa!"
"What?" she snapped at her husband. "Look at her, Lucky. Look at our baby. Look what he's done."
"I don't think she's alone in thinking that, Mr Dunbar."
"Lachlan, please," he said. "People only ever call me Mr Dunbar when I'm in trouble."
"So that's why he came back?" Ailsa said. "Looking for Andrea? Because of the baby?"
"That was what we thought, at first. And it was part of the reason, but there was more to it. When Andrea found out Kit was alive, she went to tell Kirsty, and she found out that Kirsty had stolen money from Kit before they left Venezuela. Quite a lot of money."
"Stupid girl," Lachlan muttered. "I always said, didn't I Ails? There was just something calculating about that girl. She would have spent that money before the year was out."
"Yeah. She had. But there's more," Smithy said and the couple's attention went back to him. "It just didn't make sense, the stuff Kit was doing, it was the actions of someone with a real grudge. We were sure the answer lay with Kirsty."
"And?" Lachlan said, his voice dangerously soft.
"Kirsty started taking drugs when they were in South America, and then she got involved with dealing herself. Yesterday, Kit revealed all; she'd sold to someone who had an extreme reaction, and she died. Kirsty could have helped but she didn't. Then she went to the police, and pinned everything on Kit."
"Stupid, stupid girl," Ailsa said. "But Andrea? She wasn't taking…that poison too?"
"No," Smithy said firmly. "She didn't know anything about what Kirsty had done, not until recently. Kit…he was going to…to kill Andrea in front of her, he went to push her from the roof of this building. Like I said, we need to speak to Andrea to get things straight, but my senior officer witnessed; said Andrea had broken free, that Kirsty ran at Kit, shoved him away from Andrea, but they were too close to the edge. He fell and dragged her with him."
As he spoke, he heard again the thud of the body hitting the ground; that sickening crunch. Ailsa ran a tongue over her dry lips.
"Her poor parents," she said. "And that little boy, that gorgeous little boy. I stayed in touch with them, even after we found out about Kirsty and Marc. I even told Tiggy she should forgive her for what she did to her. If I'd had any idea about this…"
"Of course," Lachlan said rubbing the back of his wife's neck. "Andrea kept secrets from us, I'm sorry she did, but I can understand why."
"It makes sense now," she said. "All the panic attacks, the nightmares, isolating herself, the way she behaved around that Peter Odell, remember? She said she was crazy from the minute she saw him."
"She told me about him," Smithy said tentatively. "She said she was better at seeing people who…well, were like Kit."
Ailsa pulled a crumpled tissue from his pocket and wiped her face with it, mopping up the tears.
"No kid should have to view people like that," she said. "And that's all she was then, just a baby, just eighteen."
"Yeah," Smithy said. "I know."
He looked back over at Andrea, and jumped. Her eyes were open, drifting around the room in confusion, one hand reaching up to grasp the tubing equipment in her mouth.
You were the flood
that swallowed us whole
Refusing a love we endlessly gave you
You were a fire out of control
The blaze that couldn't be tamed
"I used to hear them crying," Shannon said, glaring at the floor. "Especially my mum. Kit was her golden boy, dad says it took her forever to accept what he is. She hasn't left her bed since you called."
"Should we be expecting her anytime soon?"
"I don't think so," Shannon said. "She accepted it, eventually, she had to. Especially after what happened to me. I remember her burning every picture we had with Kit in it. I kept one. She doesn't know. A family picture, from a holiday when I was about three. He has me on his lap. I don't remember but they said he loved me when I was little. I keep looking at it, hoping to get some memory of having a brother who cared. Sometimes, if I try really hard, I think I can. Or maybe it's just my imagination."
"I think its natural," Sam said softly. "It can be very hard, to feel positivity to someone who caused you nothing but pain."
"He certainly did that all right," Shannon said. "Mum and dad, they shielded me from a lot of it; I mean they would, I was only a kid and nearly died. They told me more when I got older and they thought I was ready to know. Or maybe they got sick of me asking when Kit was coming home. For the longest time, I thought he'd been sent away to military school, until dad told me the truth." Shannon's face twisted bitterly. "Took his money in exchange for never seeing him again. At least he kept that part of the bargain; that is if dad's telling the truth there. Dad said he's killed someone?"
"Yeah," Sam said. "That's what we think, we haven't got any actual evidence, only circumstantial. After leaving your family, he spent some time travelling around South America. He met two girls, one of them a friend of mine. They had by all accounts what was a brief relationship. The other got involved with the dealing with him."
"Stupid cow," Shannon muttered. "I saw it at uni, you know, all these people thinking they were being so cool taking drugs and looking down their noses at me for saying no."
"You did the sensible thing."
"According to them, I was nothing but a stuck up judgemental cow," said Shannon. "It lost me a lot of friends. A lot of people would conform, just to fit in, but I wouldn't. Anyone who knows the damage that poison does…"
"Not everyone thinks like that, Shannon. We wouldn't be sitting here otherwise."
"Is that what she thought? The girl who got involved in dealing? Does she still think it's cool?"
"She's dead, Shannon. She fell from the roof with your brother. She didn't survive."
Shannon looked stunned for a moment, then her lip curled. "She paid the price, then. I'm sorry, I know that sounds awful. But I struggle to have any sympathy for people who meet the consequences of their actions. Especially for drugs."
"You're not alone there."
Shannon pushed her fingers into her eyes, frustrated. "What about the other girl? The one he had a relationship with?"
"Her name's Andrea. She's here, receiving treatment. By all accounts, it seems she'll make a good recovery."
"I'm glad," Shannon said sincerely. "Kit's ruined enough lives by the sounds of it. You cross him and bad things happen."
"Is that what happened?"
"I know dad told you, what he did to him. All he did was tell him if he was going to carry on doing what he was doing, he couldn't stay under his roof and in return, he got beaten to a pulp."
"Why didn't he press charges, Shannon?"
"Because Kit was still his son, never mind that the never cared about dad, much less any of us. Maybe he should have. Maybe a few years in jail would have sorted him out. Or maybe that's just what I tell myself, so I don't blame dad. Even though I know I shouldn't. He did all he could for Kit, and more."
"When I spoke to your dad, he sounded downcast about the whole thing. Maybe he feels the same, but nobody can say if prison would have changed Kit or not. He certainly didn't change after being in prison in South America."
Shannon looked at Sam, her eyes huge and round. "He was jailed there? Why?"
"Kirsty, the girl who got involved in the dealing with Kit. She decided she wanted out after someone she sold to had an extreme reaction and died. According to her, Kit wouldn't let her bail on the dealing, so she turned him in for everything."
"And took no responsibility for herself?" Shannon said, her lip curling. "They're all the same. Selfish, uncaring and greedy."
She wasn't wrong. Shannon got up and walked to the window, glaring out over the city.
"I don't even know why I came here. I think part of me thought I could come storming in, demanding answers. He'd probably just laugh in my face."
Probably, Sam thought, but didn't voice it out loud.
"I shouldn't have come. If he died today, I wouldn't miss him."
Why should I have a heavy heart?
Why should I say I'll keep you with me?
Why should I go and fall apart for you?
Why should I play the grieving girl and lie?
Saying that I miss you
And that my world has gone dark without your light?
I will sing no requiem tonight
"Tiggy?" Ailsa said, prising Andrea's hand off the tube as Lachlan hurried out to get assistance. "Don't touch that. They'll take it out. Just keep calm."
Andrea's eyes darted between her mother and Smithy and she made a strange, gargling noise as if trying to speak.
"It's okay Andrea," Smithy said, gripping her hand in his. "We're all here. You're safe."
Lachlan returned followed by a brisk looking doctor, rubbing sanitizer into her hands. To Ailsa, she said; "I need some space here."
Ailsa looked a little offended at first, but stepped back. Out of respect, Smithy tried to step back too, but Andrea's grip was surprisingly strong for someone who'd been kept sedated for over a day. Her eyes pleaded with him not to go so he sat, holding her hand as the doctor set about removing the tube from her throat.
"Hi, Andrea. Your throat might feel a bit sore, so don't rush trying to speak. Can you tell me where you are?"
Andrea's mouth formed the word 'hospital' but no sound accompanied it. The doctor gave her a small smile.
"Good. Now if you sit tight for me, I'm just going to carry out a few tests."
Smithy and Andrea's parents watched in silence as the doctor carried out her tests, ending with shining a light into Andrea's eyes. She straightened back up, turning her attention to Andrea's parents.
"She's still quite tired and confused, but that's to be expected. She's not to be distressed, please be very careful what you tell her. I'll come and check on her later with my neurology colleague."
She left and Andrea's parents went closer to her bed, tears gathering in her mother's eyes. Andrea managed a weak smile and lifted her free arm. Ailsa leant down, giving her a light hug, though Smithy could tell it was taking every inch of her willpower not to squeeze her hard; indeed when she let go so Lachlan could give her a hug, it was with clear reluctance.
"Here, darling," Ailsa said, when Lachlan had let go. "Have a little sip."
She held a cup full of water with a straw to Andrea's lips. She gratefully sucked, the cold water soothing her throat. She was glad that she'd woken up to the three most important people in her life surrounding her. Her eyes drifted to Smithy.
"Kirsty?"
The doctor had just said be careful, but he couldn't lie to her. He gave her hand a squeeze and shook his head.
"I'm sorry. She didn't make it. I'm so sorry."
Andrea's head sunk into the pillow as silent tears streamed down her face. She wished she didn't remember, but she did; every minute of it. Finding out what Kirsty did, the terror when realising Kit was going to throw her off that roof then the horror of watching them both disappear over the edge, hearing the thud of the bodies hitting gravel and the scream, the one she still couldn't be sure from whose mouth it had come, hers or Kirsty's. Ailsa gave her hand a squeeze, holding it to her mouth.
"It could have been very quick, darling. She wouldn't have suffered."
"She killed someone," Andrea said, her voice sounding as if she'd been gargling with grit. "With what she sold. She killed someone."
"I don't think we should do this now," Lachlan said pointedly. "The doctor said she's not to be distressed."
Smithy thought the chance in the first place of her not waking up distressed was second to none, but he nodded his agreement stroking Andrea's hair. She gave the three of them a fierce look.
"You'd rather I torment myself thinking about it? I've had ten years of being kept in the dark, enough is enough. I don't need you to tell me what happened on the roof; I remember that. I want to know what's happened since."
Smithy exchanged a look with Andrea's parents, who looked back at him, just as helplessly. He sighed.
"What do you want to know?"
"Where's Kit?"
Cause when the villains fall,
the kingdoms never weep
No one lights a candle to remember
No, no one mourns at all
When they lay them down to sleep
Sam accompanied Shannon into Kit's room, and saw her shoulders pull taut as she looked at the brother she hadn't seen for over a decade in the bed. She stared for a long time.
"He just looks pathetic, doesn't he? He doesn't look like a man who's left all that destruction and pain behind him."
"People who…aren't nice, they don't often look it, Shannon."
"What, evil?" Shannon said and looked over her shoulder at Sam. "It's what he is. You can say it."
Sam bit her lip and looked at the floor. She'd come across so many evil people during the course of her career, Pat Kitson, Ron Gregory, Alan Kennedy; but with nearly all of them, she'd been able to use her profiler training to pinpoint when their turn to the dark side had begun, but Kit had always been a blank canvas.
"Shannon, are you sure nothing happened? A trauma, a trigger, anything?"
"If you're asking me if our parents ever mistreated us, or if anyone else did, then the answer is no, Sam. He's just twisted, that's all he's ever been." Shannon stepped closer, glaring down at her brother, taking in his bruised face, his arm encased in a plaster cast, and the various drips and machines attached to him. "That's all you are, Kit. Making everyone's lives a misery and never looking back. Maybe that's why I came. Just for once, I wanted to see you taken down a peg. I hope you're in pain. I hope you're hurting."
"Maybe we should…"
"I'm not going. Not yet," Shannon said. "I want to understand. I hate him, but the worst thing has always been, I've never been able to understand. Why someone who had everything would throw it all away by getting involved with stuff like that."
"Sometimes there isn't a reason. I'm a trained profiler Shannon, and mostly yes, you can look into someone's background and see where the darkness began, but with some people, it just isn't there."
"I can't accept that, though. Nobody is born evil, isn't that what they say? Sometimes I wonder if it was me. He had our parents all to himself for years, he was eleven when I was born. Nobody talks about him being difficult before them. Was it all me?"
"I'm sure it wasn't that, plenty of much older siblings adore their younger ones and even the ones who don't…they don't turn out like Kit. Believe me, I don't like it when I don't understand people's rationale either, but sometimes, there isn't one."
"So how are we supposed to live with that? It was hard enough, knowing he was dealing drugs, but that it got people killed? That he killed innocent people? How can my family pick up the pieces of this?"
Sam wished she had an answer, but she didn't. She could mention family therapy or counselling, but didn't. She had a feeling Shannon, being as angry as she was, would find that patronising, even if she didn't intend it to be.
Shannon glared. "Wake up, Kit. Wake up so you can answer to us for once."
So, don't tell me that
I didn't have it right
Don't tell me that it
wasn't black and white
After all you put me through
Don't say it wasn't true
That you were not the monster
That I knew
Andrea lay alone, staring through the gaps in the blind at the dark sky. Her parents and Smithy had been very sternly told to leave a short while ago. She didn't know how to voice how she felt, even to herself. She was angry, with Kirsty for keeping yet more secrets from her, for being so stupid to not only take drugs, but to get involved in selling them as well. She remembered being on the roof, and hoping it was the worst of it, but knowing from Kit's extreme anger that it couldn't be. She'd killed someone, in Andrea's eyes anyway. She might not have forced the drugs down the girl's throat, but she'd certainly stood back and done nothing whilst she was dying. Andrea knew Kirsty's motivation for not getting help had been entirely self-serving. She'd been scared for herself, not because she was too shocked by what was happening. Of course, she would have only wanted out then, when it didn't benefit her anymore. She really had been stupid enough to think she could just dip in and out of Kit's world and even when she knew he was back, she didn't have the guts to own up. Kit would have known that, and it gave him incentive to continue his reign of terror. Because of her, people were dead, including herself.
A nurse came to the door to check in on her. Andrea turned her back on the door, in that moment, wishing the world away. She thought to when she'd first met Kirsty, the five year old being shoved off a trampoline by the group of boys and marching over to stop them. Their first meeting had begun with Andrea fighting her corner and it had stayed that way ever since. She'd always known, deep down, that Kirsty was a coward, that she'd push anyone into the firing line to save her own skin. Even her.
Stinging tears of rage soaked the useless hospital pillow. Not so far away, she knew, Kit lay in a bed like her, with all of these good people battling for his survival, one he didn't deserve. For him to live would be an insult, a kick in the teeth to all of his victims and grudgingly she included Kirsty in that, knowing though she was a victim of her own stupidity. But she'd rather her be alive than Kit; if she could have chosen one of them. Kirsty might have acted in cowardice, but she wasn't evil. Whatever she thought of Kirsty, she had to hold onto that now or she'd be stuck in the limbo of questioning their whole friendship all over again, just like she had when she'd caught her with Marc.
And then there was Olly, that sweet little boy who looked so like his father. What was to become of him now? She'd asked Smithy that where he was, how he was. He'd told her Olly was being looked after by Kirsty's parents. With his grandparents instead of his own father; that said it all to her about Marc's interest – or lack thereof – in being a father. And she had, at one point in her life, thought he'd be the one she'd have children with. How wrong could you be about people? How was she and everyone else around her supposed to move on? How would Kirsty's parents ever get past the double life Kirsty had led? Even though she'd disappointed them with her wild behaviour more than once, she knew they would struggle the most with her involvement in dealing. They'd raised her better than that. Smithy had mentioned that she'd told Sam she'd done it because she wanted to 'have it all' for once; well look where that had gotten her. She had nothing, much less her life. She'd wanted it all, but everyone else was left picking up the pieces of her choices. Andrea wasn't sure she could forgive that.
Cause I cannot play the grieving girl and lie
Saying that I miss you
And that my world has gone dark
I will sing no requiem
I will sing no requiem tonight
Song is Requiem (solo version) from the musical Dear Evan Hansen, also from which the story takes its name. When I was writing, it seemed to fit Shannon's feelings towards Kit very well, but also Andrea's to Kirsty. Just my thoughts! x