In the Still of the Night

‘One of their networks is interested in doing a deal with us to produce stuff specially tailored for American markets; they would come up with half the funding, I’d have to find the rest. I need to spend some time over there, exploring the current trends, assessing the atmosphere, before I decide.’

‘Sounds fascinating. Are you thinking of asking me to produce anything, if it comes off? Is that why you want me over there?’

Billy moved things on his desk, staring at his hands, then looked up at her.

‘I want you there because I’d miss you if I was away for three months.’

Harriet breathed carefully.

‘Think it over,’ Billy said, voice husky. ‘Why don’t we have dinner tonight, and talk?’

Harriet had made up her mind. ‘I’d love to,’ she said, and watched his eyes glint, his mouth relax:

‘I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty, then.’

‘I’ll be waiting,’ she said, and went back down to the studio floor briskly. The technicians and actors were taking a long tea break, talking their heads off, their faces worried. ‘OK, people, back to work,’ she said, clapping her hands, and they saw from her face that they were not out of a job. Yet.

As they rushed to get back to their places, Harriet looked at her watch. Three hours since Annie and Sean left. Her light-hearted mood dissolved. What were the police asking Annie that took so long?

She swallowed. If they lost Annie too that really would be the end of the series. It couldn’t go on without her.

Surely to God the police don’t suspect her? She thought of Annie’s big eyes and delicate face – how could anyone think that was the face of a murderer? Then she remembered the rumour that a woman just like Annie had been seen with Derek the night he died, What if Annie had been seen with Mike last night?

She pushed the idea away, grimacing angrily. What was she thinking about? The idea was crazy. Annie, commit murder? Strangle people? She wasn’t capable of it.

But who was doing this? They’re destroying my series, she thought, trembling with anger and fear. It could have run for years yet. Now there’s every chance it will come off at the end of this season.

Harriet set her teeth. Not if I can help it! Her hands clenched at her sides. I’ll use every weapon I can get, but I’m not just letting them kill my series.

Trudie was in a strangely talkative mood; she was back in the past again, a happier past, remembering Annie as a little girl, talking about her dead husband as if he was alive.

Annie let her talk, holding her hand and watching her wistfully. Her mother had always been so strong, so certain. Now she was shrunken in the bed, she barely made a bump under the bedclothes; how childlike she looked in the white cotton nightdress, and her hair had been brushed back off her face, silver, glistening.

Suddenly Trudie was silent. Talked out, she lay back against the pillow, eyes closed.

‘I suppose I’d better go, now,’ Annie said, and her mother’s fingers clutched at her.

‘Annie … don’t leave me here, someone wants to kill me. He came back last night, but Sister came in, and he went away.’

Annie stared down at her. ‘He? It wasn’t one of the nurses, then?’

Trudie looked confused. ‘It was a nurse. Yes. A male nurse. Cinders. I call him Cinders because he’s only here at night. It was him who gave me that injection. I remembered, yesterday, but Sister took no notice, she told me to go to sleep, I was imagining things again.’

Annie talked to the ward sister who was very polite at first but became stiff and irritated when she heard what Trudie had said.

‘Yes, she did make some vague accusations against one of my night nurses, but she’s mistaken. He wasn’t on night duty the night she was given the injection of digitalin. He was not in the hospital that night. It’s true he was here last night, but only briefly – he came in to say goodbye to the night staff, he has decided to leave us. He wasn’t working. He went in to say goodbye to the patients, too, which was when your mother got so upset. She started screaming, I’m afraid.’

‘Have you told the police about this?’

‘Told them what, Miss Lang? That your mother had made unsubstantiated accusations about one of my nurses? Do you realise how contradictory her accounts of this incident are? She can’t actually remember exactly what happened. It’s a typical pattern. We get these accusations all the time. Old people forget and then when they’re cross about something else they think up wild accusations. Look, my own opinion is that your mother was given digitalin by mistake – it should have been given to another patient that night. It has to be that. No digitalin is missing. There were several patients on the drug but they are all just as unreliable as your mother and they didn’t remember whether or not they had had their medication. I am not going to have another pointless upheaval by having the police back here.’

Annie could not believe the woman’s indifference. ‘And what if it happens again? What if my mother dies next time?’

‘I have improved security on this ward. It won’t happen again.’ The woman’s assurance was impregnable.

Annie stared at her, trembling with anger. ‘If it does, and if anything … happens … to my mother, I’ll blame you!’

Sean watched from his car as Annie left in another taxi, which he followed back to her house. As he’d feared, there were a couple of press cars waiting outside, but they were half asleep after a long wait, took too long to get out and sprint after her, and just missed catching her before she got indoors. They rang the doorbell and stood about on th