Page 140 of No Safe Place

‘So – thisisabout David?’ Callum said, trying to keep his voice level and failing.

‘It’s her record, of what happened,’ Ruby said. ‘I found it a few months ago, when Mum and Dad had decided to move. They asked me to pack up Paige’s room.’

He looked at the papers, but the side facing upwards was blank.

‘And this was in there, the whole time. I found it at the bottom of the bag she was planning to take to RADA, because she couldn’t leave it behind, could she? She couldn’t let go.’

He kept his eyes on the knife as he stretched forward. He dragged the document towards him and flipped it over.

‘She kept a record, of their conversations.’ Ruby exhaled.

He didn’t recognise it at first. Was used to seeing flowing handwriting instead of neatly typeset words.

His eyes scanned the front page, then flicked back up to Ruby.

It was like all the adrenaline was slowly leaving his body, replaced with ice-cold water. Starting in his chest, spreading through his veins.

It was starting to make a sick sort of sense. Ruby’s fury, the tears – the violence.

He’d had the answer the whole time, he just didn’t know it. Detective Field had even asked him.

What did you write about?

And he’d told her.

Paige was a better writer than me.

She wrote in this big broad way.

She made you think about big themes, big issues.

Callum cleared his throat, and read out loud. ‘I suppose this is my record.’

He was numb with shock. Paige used to read it to him. The bits she wasn’t happy with, usually. They worked on them together.

Callum chose a different line. ‘The rules don’t work. There aren’t enough rules. There are too many rules to cope with.’

He felt sick.

‘It’s all there,’ Ruby choked out. ‘Everything he – he did to her. He was supposed to make her better—’

‘He did,’ Callum whispered. ‘We all got better.’

‘She wasthirteen,’ Ruby screamed, kicking her fallen chair. ‘And he abused her.’

Callum flinched at the noise and closed his eyes. ‘Ruby. Tell me this isn’t why you killed David—’

‘She was thirteen when she arrived on that ward and that animal, that pig – he was supposed to be looking after her.’ Ruby let out a sob. ‘I read those papers, over and over, and I realised – thatanimalpicked her. If he’d chosen one of you, maybe she would still be alive—’

‘Ruby—’

‘No – I amtalking,’ she cried. ‘My sister is dead—’

‘It’s a play,’ Callum said, loudly enough to interrupt her.

He turned the pages, recognising a phrase here, the opening of a scene – even after all these years.

His ears were ringing. Ruby took two steps towards him, now within arm’s reach, the knife at her side. Her pupils were pinpricks.