Chapter 57

Hope walked out of the kitchen in a half-daze, slipping straight around the corner and into her room. She wasn't going to give him what he wanted — what she assumed he wanted, at least — but... she wasn't sure what her father would say if presented with the evidence.

Assuming there was any evidence, of course. Would Yvonne have done that? She couldn't make up her mind on that, and her first thought was to head for Yvonne's dorm to ask. Except that Yvonne had been struggling with her own problems, and their friendship wasn't so secure that she could afford to go in with unfounded accusations.

She had no reason beyond the fact that it was Yvonne's phone to believe any of it. It could have been anyone talking in the background, and there was no reason to believe that Yvonne had her home address. She couldn't think of anyone that had her home address. All things considered, it was probably best to just ignore it and call his bluff.

Except... What if it was true? It was a ridiculous suggestion. There were so many reasons not to believe it. Yet she couldn't escape the realisation of how devastated her father would be if he found out.

He'd been upset to find her living in the same house as an unmarried couple. His reaction to lesbian one-night stand would be beyond anything she could imagine.

She had to know how much of it was true for her own nerves. She had to face him down and make him prove his claims.

She donned her jacket, and headed down the short corridor to the living area.

"I'm just popping out, won't be long," she muttered to Elspeth and slipped out the door.

He had to be lying, she thought, trying to convince herself as she wandered across the student area of the city. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts she didn't even worry about walking alone at night. She took a long, circuitous route to bypass the worst areas of the park and the riverside, and wandered into the dorm still going over the possibilities in her head.

"Do you know where I can find Connor MacNamara's room?" she asked in the common area just inside the door, and was directed to the third floor.

She fetched up outside the door, listening to overly loud rock music thumping down the corridor from further along the hall, and knocked smartly, twice. She heard the lock turning, and realised she still hadn't decided what she was going to do if he was telling the truth.

"Yeah?" The face at the door was not Connor.

"I'm sorry. I might have the wrong room. I'm looking for Connor MacNamara."

"You better not be buying, I've told him to clear that shit out of here."

"I'm not buying anything," she assured him, and he stepped aside and gestured her in. The room was a mess, littered with beer-cans, sandwich wrappers, and dirty laundry.

"Not mine." Her host noted as she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I've asked for a transfer four times, and four times I've been told there's nowhere to go."

"My condolences," she said, and then turned at the sound of a toilet flushing.

"Here he comes." He headed over to the far side of the room which was noticeably cleaner, although that wasn't any great difficulty.

"Oh, hey, Hope." Connor smiled, brightly, still zipping up his jeans as he emerged from the bathroom. "Say, Phil, could you give us a while?"

"Whatever." Phil rolled his eyes, grabbing at a book as he got to his feet again.

"Hang on," Hope interrupted. "Phil, sorry. Would you stay?"

He stared at her with narrowed eyes for a moment.

"Look, he's into some freaky shit, right. But I'm not."

"Neither am I," Hope said, trying to appear more confident than she felt. "Would you really leave me here with him?"

"Do you really want to stay, Phil?" Connor's friendly tone had disappeared. "It's difficult to get a career in the law if you've got a criminal record."

"He's blackmailing you, too?" Hope asked, watching a muscle in the corner of his jaw pulse as he clenched his teeth, nodding.

"Blackmail is such an ugly word," Connor said and laughed at his own cliché, and Phil started towards the door again.

"What did you do?" Hope asked him.

He shook his head, unwilling to say.

"He says he's got a video of me sleeping with a girlfriend that he's going to send to my father."

"Yvonne?" Phil asked, getting a nod in response. "He used to embarrass her here by showing films of her that he'd taken."

"I didn't take them," Connor demurred. "That would be wrong. She took them all on her own."

"What do you want?" Hope turned on him, her frustration showing through.

"Isn't that obvious?"

"I don't have much money."

"I do," he assured her. "It's more obvious than that."

"How do I know you even have my address?"

"How many people called Nakata are there likely to be in Stornaway? Push comes to shove, I might need to send, what, three copies to make sure one of them gets to the right place?"

"Bastard," she hissed, and he just laughed in her face.

"Don't do it," Phil told her.

"Are you still here?" Connor asked, pointedly looking towards the door.

"Whatever you've done... I can't imagine it's bad enough to warrant having to go through that."

"And yet, you're still obeying him," Hope pointed out.

"I've done something to be ashamed of, though. You haven't. "

"You don't know what kind of a guy he is."

"I do." She turned to face Connor. "I know Shawna Lewis." He looked blank, but when she turned back Phil looked like was about to throw up.

"I was... one of them was me," he admitted. "I was drunk, he said she was fine with it. I believed him. I saw her a few days later."

"Yes, yes, yes. You shouted at me, threatened me. She was a slut who'd put out for anyone," Connor interrupted.

"She looked like shit," Phil said to Hope as though Connor weren't there.

"She's... better," Hope assured him. "She's not over it, completely, but she's getting there."

"That's good."

"You should be getting there too," Connor told Phil, throwing a shoe at him as Connor started to remove his clothes.

"I'm going," Phil whispered. Hope put a hand on his arm but he shrugged her off.

"Phil?"

"If you want to walk away, go for it." He pointed towards the door. "If not... I can't help you."

"So you can be a lawyer? That's it?"

"My father's dead, my mother spends eighteen hours a day caring for my brother — he has Downs."

"My brother's autistic," Hope countered. "My mother died at Christmas."

"She's given up more than anyone should have to in order to look after us. I am not going to let her down."

"What about you, Hope?" Connor sat back on his bed in just his jeans. "Are you going to let daddy down?"

Shawna dabbed gently at the split in Yvonne's lip, amazed at how far into the flesh it went.

"What the hell did he hit you with?" Elspeth asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Caught my lip-stud with his sleeve, I think," she whispered, trying to push them away again, this time succeeding. "It doesn't matter. You've got to go and get him."

"Get who?" Bri asked, not for the first time. "You keep telling us we've got to get him, but you won't say who. We're not here for him, we're trying to find Hope."

"She's gone to him..." Yvonne started to cry again, and Shawna gave up her cleaning as Yvonne's lip split open again.

"Here," Lorraine said giving her a cup of strong coffee, and Yvonne stared at it suspiciously.

"I'm not... you're trying to sneak stuff into me. He did that... I was clean, took me months..."

"Drink it, Yvonne," Elspeth urged her. "Hope sent it for you." The others looked at her, but all she did was shrug as Yvonne snatched at the cup, spilling some of it over her dress before drinking it down in one long gulp.

"Jesus, she's going to scald herself!" Bri tried to grab the cup but Lorraine held her back.