In the Still of the Night

‘He’s paid for it, Sean. After all, eight years in prison is a long, long time. And it wasn’t like him; Johnny isn’t the violent type.’

‘Not violent? Beats a policeman’s head in and you say he isn’t the violent type?’ Sean almost laughed but was too angry. ‘As an ex-copper, let me tell you I can’t agree.’

She gave a shuddering sigh. ‘No, I know …’ she admitted. ‘It was terrible, he knows that, but … oh, Sean, that was the night I told him about Roger Keats; he ran out in a state of terrible shock. That’s why he attacked the policeman. He’d never do it again.’

‘Oh? Did he tell you about the next guy he attacked?’

Her face was shaken. ‘What?’

‘Another prisoner. He nearly killed him, too. That’s why he did eight years, and didn’t get parole earlier. Annie, don’t kid yourself – the man is dangerous. He’s violent and unpredictable. If you go on seeing him you’re asking for trouble. So much rides on you, Annie. You’ve no right to take risks with your life.’

She couldn’t think straight, she was too confused and disturbed by what he’d just told her – Johnny had never said anything about attacking anyone else. Automatically, though, she stammered, ‘Johnny would never hurt me! You don’t know him!’

Sean’s eyes were hard. ‘I know this – even if he never slips up again, and there’s no guarantee of that – he could still destroy your career, if the press find out about his past. The publicity would be disastrous. It would ruin your image. You can’t get mixed up with a violent criminal, Annie, and not expect the public to react.’

She put her hands over her ears. ‘Stop it!’ she yelled. ‘You aren’t making me give him up again. My mother made me give him up, made me kill my baby … I’ll never let anyone do that to me again. From now on, I make my own decisions, and I won’t listen to a word you say. I love Johnny. Nothing can alter that. Nothing, do you hear?’

He stared at her in grim silence.

‘Go away, Sean,’ she wearily said. ‘I’m tired. I’m going to bed.’

‘I’m not leaving you here alone. Not with Roger Keats prowling around. Until the police catch him you mustn’t be left alone, especially at night. I’ll sleep on the couch down here.’

Annie opened her mouth to argue, then thought better of it. She was angry with Sean but she had to admit she was nervous about being alone in the house since Derek’s death. The mere idea of Roger Keats somewhere out there made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.

‘Oh, do as you like,’ she said with a tired sigh, and Sean’s eyes flashed.

‘You should be careful how you phrase remarks like that – some men might take it as an invitation.’

Startled, she flushed, then laughed a little uncertainly. ‘It was nothing of the kind, so don’t even think about it!’ She had felt, lately, that they were becoming friends; she had learnt so much more about him during the hours they’d spent together. Realising they came from the same background, the same sort of family, with the same attitudes to life, had made a bond between them. She hoped Sean wasn’t taking too personal an interest in her; she would hate to hurt him and she didn’t want their friendship to change, either, but she would have to slap him down if he started flirting with her, and she knew enough about Sean to realise how he would react if she rejected him. His pride would be hurt, and he would probably avoid her altogether, which she would regret now.

Sean saw the changing expressions crossing her face and could read them pretty well.

Offhandedly, he said, ‘Oh, don’t worry, you’re in no danger from me – it was just a joke!’

Annie wasn’t sure she believed him, but she hoped to God he was telling the truth. ‘I’ll get you some pillows and a quilt,’ she said, turning away to go upstairs.

Sean followed. She turned to look at him. ‘I’ll bring them down. You stay here, make yourself a drink, if you like.’

‘I think I ought to check the rooms upstairs – just in case.’

Annie didn’t argue. She went to the linen cupboard above the central-heating boiler upstairs, found spare pillows and a thick patchwork quilt her mother had made many years ago from old clothes cut up in squares and diamonds, and brought them out to the landing. Sean was quickly going through the bedrooms to make sure they were all empty and the windows locked.

He came back to her, nodding. ‘Everything’s fine. If you hear a sound during the night, though, yell like crazy, and I’ll come running.’

She handed him the bedding. ‘Thanks, Sean,’ she said gratefully, and he smiled at her a little wryly.

‘My pleasure.’ Something in the way he said it made a shiver run down her back, but then he asked, ‘I’m going to make myself some hot chocolate – do you want some?’

She shook her head, her throat dry.

‘Goodnight, Sean.’

He nodded, turned away and went downstairs saying, ‘Goodnight,’ over his shoulder. Annie went quickly into her bedroom and

locked the door. She knew she wouldn’t sleep, not with her mind buzzing with everything Sean had just said, the way he had looked at her just now. Oh, please don’t start looking at me like that! she thought, confused and upset. Why was life so complicated? For years she hadn’t met anyone she liked that much, now, suddenly, Johnny was back and then Sean …

Oh, no! she thought, thumping her pillow. She’d have to take a sleeping pill, and she hated doing that, partly because they made her feel as if her head had been stuffed with cotton wool the following day; and partly because she knew they could be addictive if you got used to taking them every night. She kept them for emergencies.