‘Come out of there please, sir. We need to have a word.’
Whoever it is swears under his breath. More emptying. More flushing – the water pours in this time, and whatever it is swirls away. ‘One minute . . . please. I’ve got a bad stomach. Something I ate, I think.’ His voice is ragged, frantic. He tosses in some paper, tries to flush again. Nothing.
‘Sir, we’re going to have to insist that you come out of there now, or we may have to use force. The club is being evacuated. There are health and safety concerns.’
‘One minute, please.’ The man turns from the toilet to the mirror over the sink. It’s Scott, looking a little younger but completely wasted.
Lucy looks over at him now. His expression is stony.
‘It’s OK,’ she says, her voice soothing. ‘We’ve all had to face it.’
He gives her a small smile, then turns his eyes back to the screen. She does the same, just in time to see Scott being escorted from the bathroom of what looks like a nightclub – he’s flanked by two police officers. The walls are bright pink, the strobe lights flickering. They walk into the body of the club, which is mainly deserted. The music is still playing, some thump thump dance music, while paramedics in yellow jackets help people outside.
‘This bit looks like it’s coming from CCTV,’ Lucy says. ‘It’s not a memory feed, like the rest of it.’
Scott shrugs. ‘Yeah. I guess it was pretty simple to get hold of this footage. Maybe this is how they picked me for this “adventure” in the first place.’
‘There’s sound, though,’ Amelia says. ‘I didn’t think CCTV had sound.’
‘They had it on my canal CCTV too,’ James says. ‘I’m guessing this is some kind of enhancement to the normal set-up.’
Lucy turns back to the screen. Two paramedics appear from somewhere near the stage, carrying a stretcher. A young woman is lying on it, hooked up to an IV bag. Her arms twitch spasmodically. As Scott on-screen watches, her head falls to the side and her eyes seem to bore into him. But they are deep pools of blankness. Wherever she is, she is not currently in there.
‘Is she going to be OK?’ Scott asks one of the paramedics.
The woman shrugs. ‘We don’t know yet. Be helpful to know what she’s taken. This is the fourth one we’ve stretchered out. There are several others still upright but mainly incoherent. Are you OK, sir? Do you need assistance?’ Her eyes flit from Scott to the two police officers.
‘We’ve got him,’ the officer on the left says. A young woman, probably not much older than the one on the stretcher.
Scott on-screen looks like a rabbit trapped in the headlights. While Scott at the dinner party is no longer watching the events unfold.
The screen pixelates, then goes dark.
‘Scott . . .’ Lucy starts, but he waves a hand, dismissing her.
The screen glows white again and the bald man reappears. His face is solemn. ‘That girl on the stretcher died, you know. As did three others. They never did find out what concoction of drugs they’d taken. Toxicology came back inconclusive. It got put down to a bad batch, misadventure. No one was ever caught for supplying them.’ He shakes his head. ‘Sickening, isn’t it? People really should take responsibility for their actions.’
The screen pixelates and disappears once more.
Tiggy
‘OK, that’s enough now.’ Tiggy sits down at the dining table. She’s deflated. No fight left in her at all. Her gaze rests on the flickering candles of the centrepiece, and for a moment she feels calmer. ‘This has to be enough,’ she says quietly. ‘Let’s just have a few drinks, go to bed, and tomorrow they can fly us out of here. We’ll go to the police when we get home, and send them here to deal with everything. There’s nothing else for it. I’ll call Daddy as soon as we land. He’ll help sort this out.’ She picks up a fresh glass and holds it aloft. ‘I’d like a drink, please.’
One of the waitresses from earlier scurries over and fills her glass with champagne. One by one, the others come and sit at the table. They’re all weary now, the spirit knocked out of them. Everyone is drinking champagne, except for James, who refuses. Scott starts picking at the nibbles again. The stuff he’d knocked onto the floor has been tidied away and replaced.
None of them speaks. What is there to say?
Tiggy nibbles absentmindedly on a cheese stick and wipes away an angry tear. Just wait until she gets home. People will be so distraught about Giles. His profile will go through the roof, as will hers. People are always more interesting when there’s a tragedy attached to them.
After a time, James speaks up. ‘Where’s Harvey?’
‘Forget him. He’s not going to help us.’ Tiggy picks up another cheese stick. They’re pretty good, and now that she’s started it’s going to be hard to stop. This is why she tries not to eat much. Eating only makes you eat more. You only have to look at a fat person to see that. She’s been watching what she eats since she was a child, when Mummy explained how important it was. ‘No one wants a fat wife,’ she always told her. ‘See how pretty and slim Mummy always stays for Daddy? You have to be careful, darling. There are plenty of eager replacements waiting in the wings, and your husband should never have to be forced into looking elsewhere due to your slovenly ways. Always remember that.’ Mummy wasn’t right about everything, but she was right about that. Besides, hunger isn’t something to be scared of. OK, sometimes it’s made her feel a little lightheaded – led to her making some wrong decisions, especially after a couple of glasses of fizz. But overall, it’s healthy to feel in control. Isn’t it? She picks up her glass and is surprised to find it empty . . . and another cheese stick gone.
‘I don’t know what’s in these,’ she says, ‘but they are very moreish.’ She picks up the tub and shakes it at the others. ‘Go on, have some. Before I eat them all.’
Scott takes one, and then Lucy. Scott shoves half of it in his mouth at once, makes a mmm-mmm noise, and takes another. Lucy starts nibbling, but soon she’s nearly done with hers too. ‘You’re not wrong, Tigs. These are insanely good.’ Lucy takes the tub and holds it towards Amelia and James, who both shake their heads.
‘I don’t eat cheese,’ Amelia says. ‘Makes me feel queasy.’
Lucy sighs. ‘Don’t give me any of your lactose intolerance nonsense.’
‘It’s not that.’
Lucy shakes the tub at James. ‘And, of course, you barely eat at all.’
He frowns. ‘I do eat. Of course I eat. I just . . . I’m just not really comfortable eating this food.’
‘What? You reckon they’re going to poison us now?’ Lucy puts the tub back on the table. She touches another, but then seemingly changes her mind. Reaches for a handful of nuts instead. Tiggy pulls the tub closer and takes another cheese stick – she’s past caring about the consequences. Meanwhile, the waitress has been over and silently filled up all their glasses.
‘Could I have a bottle of Coke?’ James says. A few moments later, a waiter returns with a bottle and an opener. He opens it in front of James, then disappears without a word.