DM:The record company put us up in a house in Notting Hill. There was a small studio in a fancy shed at the bottom of the garden. Will was down there all the time. I don’t know what he was doing in there, though. One time I went down there, he was asleep on the sofa with Nick Cave blaring out. Reu and I had nothing to do. We played video games all day. I had to feed the record company a pack of lies to keep them off his back.
If I hadn’t told Emily that stuff, she wouldn’t have broken up with him. And if she hadn’t dumped him, he’d still be here. I’m sure of that.
OL:I’m sure that’s not true…
DM:I didn’t think he would do anything like… what he did. I wish he’d come to me. We could have talked and maybe… [pauses] I wish he’d come to me, you know?
Chapter 62
July 1999
Sleeping with Scott hadn’t had the transformative effect Emily hoped it would. She felt as miserable as ever. Fortunately, he hadn’t mentioned it and they both carried on as if it never happened. But her sombre mood didn’t go unnoticed. Miranda suggested they go to the student union bar after college, and Scott rallied a group of their friends to join them. Emily said little and although she had a few drinks, she remained in control and waited until a respectable hour before saying she was heading home.
Miranda persuaded her to stay for one more and Scott got another round in before they’d finished that one, so they didn’t get home any earlier.
‘Who wants toast?’ Miranda asked as she opened the door to their flat. They hadn’t eaten all night. Miranda flipped the light switch and headed to the kitchen.
‘Me,’ said Scott, following her.
‘Please.’ Emily sat at the little table while Miranda examined the bread slices for mould before slotting them into the toaster and Scott made tea. They chatted about their evening and their course as they ate.
Emily stood up and poured herself a glass of water. ‘Right, I’m off to bed. Night.’
‘Me too,’ said Miranda, following her to the hall. ‘Jesus, what’s that on the carpet? Scott, have you spilt Bolognese again?’
‘I haven’t had any Bolognese.’
‘What’s that then?’
Scott went to look. ‘I dunno – it wasn’t me.’
‘There’s a trail of it coming from your room.’
Emily was staying out of it. She nudged her bedroom door open. That was odd – the light was on. As the door opened wider, she saw a figure lying on her bed with its back to her. She let out a shrill yelp and the glass of water dropped to the carpet with a thud. She stumbled backwards, bumping into Scott as he came up behind her.
‘What the fuck?’ Scott put himself between Emily and the stranger. ‘Get the torch from my bedside,’ he whispered.
The intruder remained motionless despite the sound of their voices.
‘What is it?’ asked Miranda as Emily pushed past her in the hall.
In Scott’s room, there was blood all over the carpet. Emily’s heart thudded, her brain unable to compute what she was seeing. She was expecting to find a torch on the bedside table, but there was only a magazine and an alarm clock. She rifled through the drawers, but there was no torch. What did he want a torch for, anyway? What was he going to do, dazzle the intruder to death? Then she spotted a torch on the floor by the bed. It was a foot long and when she picked it up, it weighed a tonne. It was a huge metal truncheon.
Miranda was whispering into the phone as Emily passed her on the way back.
She handed Scott the torch, and he gestured for her to stay back. He entered her room cautiously, creeping around her bed, holding the torch two-handed like a baseball bat. The figure was lying on its side, perfectly still.
Scott prodded it with the torch. It rocked and returned to its original position.
‘Shit!’ cried Scott. ‘Call an ambulance!’
‘What––’
‘Call an ambulance!’ he barked. ‘Now!’
Emily relayed the message to Miranda who was already on the phone to the emergency services.
Scott rolled the figure onto its back.