In The Frame Read online

“The police were here yesterday. She pinched them Monday night.”

  “Wow.” Danny shook his head and took a moment to examine his surroundings. There were a few film posters on the walls. The furniture was worn, but reasonably clean if you ignored the stains on the carpets. “So what happened?”

  “Just that. They turned up, searched her room, found the stuff and nicked her. Stupid bitch.” Sara laughed. Danny thought he detected malice in her voice. She seemed to be enjoying the scandal.

  “Jesus.” He took another chocolate, then offered the box. “Help yourself. “I don’t know what to say. Are they sure it was her?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “Has she pinched anything else?”

  “That’s what we were just discussing. We’ve had all sorts go missing here. Just little stuff like food and that, but it makes you wonder.”

  “Has she been splashing the cash about?”

  “No. I’ll give her that. We’re all skint. You know what it’s like if you’re a student. Maybe she’s hoarding it though. We’ve no idea what she’s up to.”

  The door opened, and a young man walked in, carrying a briefcase.

  “Hiya Jase,” said Sara. “You all right?”

  “Yeah, lectures are cancelled so I’m cracking on here. Sophie around?”

  “Just gone to her room. Fancy a chocolate? You don’t mind, do you?” she added, turning to Danny.

  “No, help yourself. Hi, I’m Danny,” he said to the new arrival. “I was just getting told about Anna.”

  “Jason. God yeah, that was a shock. You can never tell though, can you?” He took a chocolate from the box but remained standing.

  “Do you think it was definitely her? Nobody else could have left the stuff in there?”

  Jason shrugged.

  “I was in here all night watching TV,” he said. “The girls were at the restaurant. Nobody went near the rooms till Sophie came back, but she went straight to hers apart from when I heard her in the bathroom. She had a guy with her, Anna’s boyfriend actually, but he just dropped her off and went. He didn’t go anywhere near Anna’s.”

  “Definitely nobody’s been near her room since Monday,” added Sara, taking over. “I mean, we’ve always been fairly laid-back with locking doors and that, but nobody’s got anything worth nicking. We’re a bit more careful now, mind.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “Oh, and she had a bag. Me and Meirion waited outside the Poly for her then we all got a taxi back. She was in there ages. She was just supposed to be going to a locker.”

  “Did you tell the police that?”

  “Of course. I mean, I didn’t want to cause her trouble but... And actually, you know what else? Her face looked damp, now I think about it, as though she was sweating.”

  Danny stood up.

  “Well, I don’t suppose there’s much point hanging around. Tell her I came if you see her, for what it’s worth.”

  “I doubt we’ll see her,” said Jason. “Shall do though, if we do.”

  “I’ll leave you the flowers and chocolates. Seems like the least I can do. Maybe see you in the bar sometime?”

  “I’ll look out for you,” said Sara, lighting the cigarette. “And better luck next time.”

  “Aye, fingers crossed.”

  Danny said goodbye and headed back to the lift. Mission accomplished.

  8

  I THOUGHT about phoning Todd to make sure he was in, but I didn’t want to take the risk that he’d refuse to see me, or worse still, decline to answer the call. No doubt he’d be home, though, given the state of inertia caused by the imminent march. He was supposed to be at work that evening, but hopefully he hadn’t also taken the lunchtime shift.

  I took the bus to Swiss Cottage, and sat at the front, being shaken by the rattles of the diesel engine, looking out of the window, pondering life. The north London traffic was heavy. There were so many people, so many cars, with headlights already on in the gloom. Who were they? Where were they all going? Why did they all look to have such a sense of purpose and direction when my own life was falling apart? What reward would I have for working so hard, now everything I’d striven for was so close to collapse?

  It was a short walk from the bus stop to Todd’s flat. We’d done it many times, in the first flush of early romance, holding hands, or chasing each other, just generally fooling around and happy to be alive. Not today.

  I pressed the bell, then waited. Nothing. I pressed it again. Again nothing. Then after a full half-minute or more, I thought I heard movement inside. I pressed the bell for a third time. Through the textured glass panel I could see a figure, no clearer than a shadow, and it was coming towards me.

  Todd opened the door. He’s never been the sharpest of dressers, but he looked particularly scruffy, unshaven, and maybe sleep-deprived. I could relate to that last bit.

  “Hi,” I said. He just looked at me, as though I was a stranger. “Can I come in?”

  He opened the door wider and stepped aside. I walked past, not really knowing which way to go: right for the living room or straight on for the kitchen? The bedroom was upstairs. I didn’t think we’d be going there. I stopped, waiting for him to lead the way. Living room it was. It also didn’t look like I was going to be offered a cup of tea.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked at last, when I’d taken a place on the sofa. I hoped he was going to join me, but he stayed standing. It was not a good sign, and put me at an even greater physical disadvantage. He really did look very tall.

  “I just want to talk to you,” I said. “Explain things. Make sure we’re okay.”

  “I’m not sure there’s anything more to say.”

  “What do you mean? Of course there is. I hate falling out with you. I hate falling out with anyone, but you especially.”

  “Anna.” He sighed, then stopped, looking beyond me. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

  “I don’t want you to do anything. Maybe just listen to me. Be there for me. Try to help me work out what the fuck is going on.”

  “You make me laugh.”

  “What?”

  “What do you mean ‘what’?”

  “For fuck’s sake. It’s a simple enough question. What do you mean I make you laugh? I’ve come here to see you because I’m scared, Todd. Scared of losing you, scared of all the trouble that seems to be landing on me like a fucking tidal wave. Not for your bloody amusement.”

  “Yeah, well, you should have thought about that before nicking the gear.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, here we go again.”

  “Todd! You of all people. I did not steal anything. Surely you believe that.”

  “I don’t know how you can sit there and say that.”

  “I can sit here and say it because it’s true.”

  “Not according to the police.”

  “Jesus.”

  I was momentarily lost for words. This couldn’t be happening.

  “So you’re saying you believe them rather than me?”

  “The evidence was there, Anna. I mean, how well do I really know you? I thought I knew you. I thought we were fine. Then I find out you’re a thief and you’re seeing somebody behind my back. I think you’ve got problems, I really do.”

  “Right.” I stood up. I really felt like hitting something. Ideally a bottle. “Well, you know what? I’m not a thief, I’m not seeing anybody.”

  “And you expect me to believe that?”

  “Oh, you know what? Believe what the fuck you like. I’m going. I don’t need this.” I headed to the door. “And in the meantime, thanks for the support. But now you can just piss off.”

  I walked out and slammed the door shut behind me. Not, perhaps, my most eloquent put down. I felt hollow inside. Clearly that hadn’t gone as well as I’d hoped, but I was about to find out that things could get worse again.

  9

  AT times of great stress I occasionally do weird things. In arguments I tend to fix
on examining some detail in the room, counting the number of times the wallpaper pattern repeats or how many floor tiles are in each row. It helps me dehumanise the situation, I think. I’ve always tended to focus trauma onto abstract material things. As I walked across the courtyard, back to the entrance to my tower block, I started counting paving slabs, as though some magic number would be the combination for the lock that was closing ever more tightly on my brain. I didn’t attempt to avoid standing on the cracks, though. I’m not mad.

  The houseman, Billy, stopped me as I walked through the door to reception. I was expecting to be told that I’d now been evicted on top of everything else, but instead he passed me an envelope, with my name written by hand on the outside.

  “Chin up,” he said as I thanked him. I don’t know how much he knew, but I liked Billy. He always seemed friendly and non-judgemental, which is handy when rowdy students are turning up at all hours, in various states of inebriation, with guests in tow for late-night activities of dubious morality. That was my experience, anyway, although maybe he just thought I was a lost cause.

  I opened the envelope when I got into the lift. It was a note from Danny.

  Hi Anna,

  I hope all went well with Todd. Fingers crossed.

  I made some enquiries and met Sara, Sophie and one of the Jasons. They’re pretty sure it’s you, but we know the truth. We’ll show them.

  Keep the faith, no matter how hard this seems. We make a good team I think. Call me when you get a chance. Let’s meet this evening if you’re free.

  I’m thinking of you.

  Danny

  x

  Inside, a part of me melted. If Danny was genuine, I didn’t understand why he was being so nice to me. For the first time since this whole thing started, I felt anger and confusion giving way to tears. I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve support from a stranger, when those closest to me were making every effort to distance themselves, but it was something to cling to. I left the lift, went straight to my room, and the tears began to flow in earnest.

  It took half an hour before I felt up to facing the world. I retouched my make-up to hide the worst, then looked for my phonecard so I could call Danny from one of the phones in the lobby. I found the card, but just as an extra dent to my resilience, remembered I’d already used the last of the credit. Why was everything so hard?

  I either had to go back out, in the cold, and walk round to the corner shop to spend money I didn’t have, or I had to see if any of my lovely housemates would lend me a card for a quick call. The thought of walking into the common room and confronting them filled me with dread, and something approximating shame. But what did I have to feel shameful about? I’d done nothing wrong. I opened the common room door.

  Five of them were in there, freshly back from protesting, or just taking the afternoon off. All except Bahrom and the other Jason. Conversation stopped. Jason Ashburn looked at me. The others all looked away.

  “All right, guys?” I said. I hate the word ‘guys’ normally, but I hoped it would bring a certain lightness to proceedings. Nobody spoke.

  “Jesus. You do know I’m innocent, don’t you? You do know I’m being stitched up?”

  Still all five stayed silent. Meirion turned towards the window, while Sophie reached for a mug and seemed to take an eternity staring at it, as though deciding whether or not to take a sip.

  “So we’re not speaking then. Brilliant. And I don’t suppose anyone would care to lend me a phonecard?”

  “Sorry, Anna, I haven’t got one,” said Jason. He may even have been telling the truth. Sophie continued looking at the mug.

  “I’ll take that as a no, then,” I said at last. “And yes, Sophie, I did piss in it. So fuck the lot of you.”

  I returned to my room, grabbed my leather jacket, then locked my door behind me as I headed to the shop.

  On second thoughts, calling from the lobby probably wasn’t wise anyway, as I didn’t know who would be listening. I had to assume my enemy, whoever it was, was close enough to want to hurt me and that meant it could be anyone. I bought a phonecard from the nearest newsagent, then headed along Baker Street until I saw a callbox. Danny answered on the third ring.

  “How was Todd?” he asked.

  “It’s finished. Next question?”

  “Shit, I’m sorry. What happened?”

  “Oh Danny, you don’t even want to know. He’s a twat. Does that sum it up?”

  “Fair play.”

  “How did you get on?”

  He gave me a swift recap of his visit, and told me about the box of chocolates. Even if this investigation came to nothing, I decided, he’d go far.

  “So what next?” I asked when he’d finished. “I’m running out of ideas here. And phone credit.”

  “We need to meet again, if you’re free. What time is it now?”

  “Just gone half past five.”

  “Should we say half six? Bolsover Street? We can always move on if it’s too crowded. There’s a river cruise thing on tonight so it should be quiet.”

  “Perfect. I’ll see you there. And thanks, Danny. You don’t know how much this means.”

  I got back in the lift at the hall, but as the doors were closing someone stuck his arm in the way. The doors opened again and he stepped in to join me. I felt him looking me up and down.

  “You’re Anna?” he asked once the doors had closed.

  “Yup,” I said, not in the mood for conversation.

  “You’re quite the celebrity.”

  “God.” I took a step to the right. He was standing too close. “It’s not intentional.”

  “We should get together,” he said. “I’ve got a bit of a thing for bad girls.”

  Thankfully the doors opened before I had to worry about adding assault to my list of charges. I gave him a massive two fingers once the doors had safely closed and he was on his way to a higher floor.

  I didn’t see the point in trying to speak to anyone, so went straight to my room. There was a piece of A4 paper stuck on the door. As I got closer I could read the writing. One word. Thief. Nice touch. I snatched it off, then unlocked and opened the door before screwing it up as tightly as I could and throwing it in the direction of my overflowing bin. I missed.

  I wasn’t feeling hungry but decided I should try to make the effort so I boiled the kettle for a quick cup of tea and then started preparing cheese on toast. I had the kitchen to myself, which was unusual, although frankly I no longer cared. I’d had enough of their pettiness.

  In my room, I was just finishing the final slice when there was another knock on the door. I was expecting it to be Jason, maybe coming to apologise, but when I opened it my heart sank yet further. It was the police.

  “Ms Burgin,” said the taller of the two. “We’d like you to come with us.”

  10

  HAVE I got an option?” I asked.

  “You can either come willingly or we can use the handcuffs,” he said.

  I looked at my watch. It was approaching six. I really didn’t have time for this.

  “Will we be long?”

  “Save your questions for the station, miss.” And that was the end of that. I was led away to the waiting car. Billy averted his gaze as I passed.

  I was signed in and then shown through to an interview room and made to wait. I don’t often regret having a cup of tea, but the last one was beginning to cause me deep discomfort. How come on TV dramas the suspects never need the toilet? It was just one more very real thing to worry about.

  Time passed and my already-heightened sense of anxiety got ever more intense. Where were they? What were they going to do with me? I looked at my watch again. I was already late for Danny. I needed them to get this over with as quickly as they could.

  But they didn’t. They didn’t even come to see me. Seven came and went. Then seven-thirty. I pictured Danny, alone in the bar, waiting for me. Perhaps he’d be concerned at first, assuming that I was just running late. But when would
concern give way to annoyance? Then frustration, then outright anger?

  He’d give up on me, deciding I was just an unreliable time-waster, assuming that everything everyone said about me was true. The one person who’d offered to help me, being alienated through absolutely no fault of my own. There was no way to relay a message. My one chance to actually have somebody on my side, utterly destroyed - and for what? So I could sit on my own in an interview room, acutely in need of the toilet, feeling increasingly nauseous, desperately wanting to know what on earth was going on. Where were they?

  They came just after eight. There was no apology from either of them. DS Phil Matthews made the introductions then asked me to confirm my name for the tape, while DC Gordon Kendrick sat in silence, making notes. And then they started to grill me. Where had I been on certain dates? Could anyone vouch for me? Who was I selling the stuff to? What was I doing with the money? Apparently I could expect a degree of leniency at court if I’d be willing to testify against the other members of my gang.

  They left after twenty minutes, saying they’d be back in a moment. Another hour passed. Then they returned and it started again. The same questions, trying to break me. But I was broken already, and I couldn’t give information that I simply didn’t know.

  It was nearly twenty past ten by the time they decided they’d had enough and I was allowed to leave. There was no offer of a lift home. Presumably it’s perfectly safe for a young woman of waif-like stature to walk through deserted London streets on her own, late at night. Nothing could possibly go wrong there.

  I caught the first bus I saw, heading in any direction, and sat back amongst the drunks and night shift workers, trying to think of a plan but devoid of any inspiration. The bus passed Centre Point on the way to Oxford Circus. At least I was going in vaguely the right direction. I got off when I saw the familiar Topshop frontage, then headed up Regent Street towards the BBC. The Student Union bar was on the far side. If I could make it there safely, I might at least find someone else heading back my way, who I could tag along behind. At least they’d hear my screams.