Trust No One: A Tense Psychological Thriller Full of Twists

‘I don’t remember anything after that, not until I woke up in the hospital.’

Olivia shrugged, was silent for a moment as she picked up her glass and took a sip of wine. She always tried to play it casual, as if talking about what had happened didn’t bother her, but of course it did. She might not remember everything from that night, but reliving those last moments with Margaret, knowing what had then happened to her, was never easy.

‘You okay?’ Noah squeezed her free hand. She didn’t even remember him taking hold of it because she had been so caught up in the past.

‘Yeah, I just wish I could remember exactly what happened.’ She saw kindness in his eyes, but also that he had questions, that cop brain of his working overtime.

‘Who pulled you from the fire?’

‘Rachel. I hit my head on something, a beam the police thought, and knocked myself out.’

‘She was in the cottage with you? You said you didn’t know where she had gone.’

‘She had been outside, hadn’t plucked up the courage to follow us. She saw the flames. Managed to get me out, but the fire was too strong. She couldn’t get to Margaret.’

He nodded slowly at that. ‘And how did the fire start?’

‘There was a paraffin lamp in the front room. The police said the place had been used by vagrants. They think they must have left it burning.’

‘But there was no one else there at the time?’

‘I don’t… not that I remember.’ She studied his face. ‘Do you think this is connected?’

‘Come on, Liv. Tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind.’

Had it? Possibly she had considered it. What had happened that night had left deep scars, mental as well as physical. The possibility the past was coming back to haunt her was just too much to deal with. Besides, she had done nothing wrong, well, nothing other than surviving, so why would a killer now be targeting her? ‘But why though? What would be the motive?’

‘Gary Lamb was there.’

‘And? What does that have to do with what happened to Margaret?’

‘Talk me through again who was there on the trip with you.’

Olivia’s shoulder’s tensed. ‘I just went through everything.’ She was aware her voice was getting high-pitched; made an effort to calm it. ‘Don’t make me do it again.’

‘I just want you to remind me who was there on that trip, the ones who you and Margaret came up against. Gary Lamb, obviously, and Fern St Clair, Howard Peck and Janice Hardesty. Plus Rachel and Kelly?’

‘Yeah, Rachel Williams and Kelly… I don’t remember her last name, though they didn’t go to our school.’

‘And you didn’t keep in touch with any of them?’

‘Nope. Why would I?’

It was a fair question and he acknowledged it with a half-smile.

‘What’s the point of this, Noah?’

‘Keeping you safe,’ he answered simply.

Okay, he may be wide of the mark, but she couldn’t argue with his motives.

‘What did she do to you, Liv?’

When her eyes widened, even though she knew what and who he was referring to, he elaborated. ‘You hate Fern so much. Tell me why.’

In her head the incident was as clear as day. While parts of the accident with Margaret were blurry, what had happened ten months later never faded.

Due to her injuries, she had missed the rest of the school year, had wondered at one point if she would ever be well enough to return. Therefore she was grateful to be able to attend her final year of high school.

Scrub that. Grateful and nervous.

She hadn’t seen any of her classmates since the accident, was understandably worried about her return.

It had gone as well as could be expected, some students shunning her, probably because they didn’t know how to react, others with a welcoming smile, but too many questions. High school was suddenly overwhelming.

She didn’t see Fern until the afternoon of her first day back. Although they had parted on bad terms, Olivia had been both surprised and hurt that Fern hadn’t tried to make contact. Given the magnitude of everything that had happened, she had foolishly assumed she might put their fight to one side.

She was sat at her desk in the afternoon history lesson when Fern walked into the classroom. She made eye contact with Olivia for the briefest second.

‘Hi,’ Olivia gave her a small smile, conscious of the tension between them.

Fern didn’t respond, her stony expression giving nothing away. Ignoring Olivia, she went to the back of the room and took her seat.

The snub stung, but perhaps was to be expected. Fern had never been one to kiss and make up if she fell out with someone. She was stubborn, self-righteous and if she felt she had been wronged, she wouldn’t back down, certainly not without a grovelling apology.

There was no way Olivia planned on giving her one of those. And anyway, was it really that big a deal if her friendship with Fern was over? Fern was familiar, and yes, familiar was comforting, especially after everything that happened, but she wasn’t a nice person. Maybe it was better for Olivia if she had a fresh start.

The first couple of weeks back passed without incident. Olivia ignored Fern and Fern ignored Olivia. Janice Hardesty was still on the scene, following after Fern like a lapdog. The first time she saw Olivia she had gushed about her accident, and then shut down abruptly after receiving a look from Fern. She hadn’t spoken to Olivia since.

But there were other friendships to be made and life settled into a new sort of normal as Olivia studied for her exams.

It was into October when Fern started tormenting her. Initially it was playground stuff: flat bicycle tyres; walking into class to find Olivia Blake is a bitch scrawled on the blackboard.

Olivia had no proof it was Fern, though the smirks and whispers gave her old friend away. Besides, who else would it possibly be? Olivia was reasonably popular and had received a fair amount of sympathy and support from her peers. She rationalised that maybe that was why Fern was now reacting so pathetically.

In her mind, Olivia had never been punished for her betrayal and it no doubt rankled Fern that she had found new friends.

The rumours put paid to a few of those friendships. Spiteful gossip did the rounds insinuating that Olivia had been saying nasty things behind people’s backs.

Of course when confronted with the gossip, Olivia denied it, but she could tell from the doubtful looks and wary smiles that the trust was broken.

Eventually she decided to have it out with Fern. This had turned out to be stupid and regrettable. Of course Fern denied everything while wearing a smirk that confirmed to Olivia that her suspicions were right. Fern had then goaded her, playing the victim very well when Olivia lost her temper and slapped her.

The battle lines were drawn and the numbers on Olivia’s side were dwindling. That would have been enough for most people, but not Fern St Clair, who still had her cruellest card to play.

Returning to the changing room one afternoon after hockey, Olivia waited until her classmates were finished showering before she dared strip out of her PE kit. This had been her practice since returning to school. She was too self-conscious of her burn injuries to shower with the other students.

She took her time soaping herself down, taking extra care around her scars, knowing that as it was the last lesson of the day, she had a while before the caretakers started locking up the building. Finishing up, she turned off the taps, pushed her dripping hair back off her face, stepping out of the communal shower and reaching for her towel.

It wasn’t there.

At first she felt only frustration as she checked under the bench, in case it had slipped off, then padded her way back through to the locker room, leaving a dripping trail, as she went to the cupboard to see if there were any spare towels.

The door was locked.

Frustration turned to annoyance now. Where the hell was her towel? Was this one of Fern’s stupid games, forcing her to get dressed without drying off first?

She stomped to her locker, not relishing the idea, but figuring it was only for the walk home. Apprehension and the first sliver of fear knotting her belly as she realised this door too was locked.

What?

The locker had been open, she was sure of it. Her bag and all of her clothes were in there.

She rattled the door, the frustration and anger that had morphed into fear, now sending skittering waves of panic through her. She was naked and had nothing to cover herself up with.

That would have been mortifying at the best of times, but her burn scars, the ones she desperately tried to hide from people, were exposed and on show.

What the hell was she going to do?

Fern had done this, of that there was little doubt, but she wouldn’t be so cruel to keep it up. She was probably just trying to freak Olivia out.

Slowly she edged towards the main door of the changing room, tentatively eased the door open and sticking her head out into the corridor. There was no one around, the pupils having already left. There would be a few teachers and the caretakers on site, but she could hardly go looking for them while she was naked.

Assuming Fern was hiding close by, wanting to see her reaction, she called out, ‘Very funny, Fern. I know you did this. Well, you’ve had your fun. Can you please give me my locker key and towel back?’

She was met with silence.

‘Please, Fern. I’m officially freaking out here. I just want to get my stuff.’

Still nothing.

Maybe Fern wasn’t there. Perhaps she had taken Olivia’s towel and key, and left.

The idea filled her with dread.

‘Hello! Can anyone hear me? I need some help.’

Still nothing.

She was going to have to wait in the changing room. When she heard the caretaker come to lock up, she would quickly run to the door to stop them walking in on her then ask them to find her a towel or some old clothes.

Reluctantly she closed the door and returned to the lockers, perching herself on the edge of the bench. The steam had cleared now from the shower and she shivered against the chill on her damp skin, her teeth chattering. As she hugged her body, rubbing her arms, her fingertips ran over her burnt flesh and she grimaced, knowing the accident had changed her for life.

Fern hated her, she got that, but this was going too far.

A loud bang on the door startled her and she leapt up, seeing the handle turn.

Oh God, NO!

She flew against the door before it could open, pressed herself against it.

‘Don’t come in. Please. I don’t have any clothes on.’

Silence.

Her body was trembling now, partly from the cold, partly from the fear of being caught naked. Hesitantly she eased the door open, saw no one.

So who the hell had knocked on the door?

‘Hello? Who’s there?’

And then she spotted it, further up the corridor. Her towel. It was draped over the bannister of the stairs that led up to the English department.

Olivia swallowed hard, glancing around. She was trapped in the changing room and needed the towel, but could she bring herself to go get it? She debated for a moment, called out again. ‘Hello? Can anyone hear me? I really need some help.’

Perhaps she should just wait for the caretaker, as she had initially planned. Problem was, she could be there for another forty minutes or so. No one was around and she really needed to get the towel.

She judged the distance, figured it would take her just seconds to get to the staircase. Once the towel was around her, it wouldn’t be so bad. Yes the scars would still be visible on her arm, but at least the ones all down her side would be covered, as would her nakedness.

Ten seconds there, grab the towel, go find a teacher or the caretaker. She could use the phone in the secretary’s office to call her mum. Get her to bring some clothes.

What if someone stepped into the corridor while she was going to get the towel? The humiliation would be unbearable.

So will the waiting around. You have to do this.

Drawing a couple of quick breaths, psyching herself up, she stepped into the corridor, nervously glanced around again then bolted for the towel.

A flash of movement up ahead, a figure crossing the corridor, grabbing the towel as they went, disappearing into a classroom.

Olivia froze, realised she had been tricked. As she turned to flee back towards the changing room, the door closed and she heard the unmistakable twist of a key in the lock. One hand covering her breasts, the other protecting between her legs she backed up against the wall as a figure wearing an old Scream mask slowly, deliberately walked towards her, phone raised and pointing at her.

She was being filmed.

The figure might be masked, but she recognised the walk and the bubble of muffled laughter, knew it was Fern.

‘Stop it! Just give me my towel back, please!’

Humiliation burned and she tried to snatch the phone as Fern came closer, but the girl quickly stepped back and out of her reach.

Hearing more laughter behind her, knowing that Fern wasn’t alone, she bolted along the corridor and into an empty classroom. She could hear footsteps following, quickly crossed the room to the store cupboard, stepping inside and locking the door behind her. Sinking to the floor, she curled into a ball and waited.

They quickly grew tired of tormenting her, leaving her alone in the store cupboard, and she waited there for what seemed like an hour, but was probably only minutes, until she heard the footsteps of the caretaker.

Her mum was called, bringing clothes to the school, pacing furiously as she waited for the head teacher to arrive so she could vent her fury.

Olivia couldn’t prove it was Fern, but her mother was determined her former friend would pay, and the head teacher promised the matter would be dealt with. Embarrassed and miserable, Olivia didn’t care. It was all too little, too late. She was never going to live this down.

She never watched the video footage, despite having it sent to her by a dozen different people, but she knew every student had seen her walk of shame. Returning to school two days later was one of the worst and most humiliating experiences of her life.

Still she held her head high, ignored the stares from those who were curious, having seen the extent of her injuries, just as she ignored the spiteful taunts from some of Fern’s gang, calling her Freddy Krueger.

Elena wanted her to change school, but it was her final year and there had already been too much disruption. Olivia knew she somehow needed to focus and get through her exams.

She dealt with the stares and the comments, ignoring most of them, and finding her own acidic putdowns to throw back at those who behaved the worst. Eventually the furore over the video died down and she was left in relative peace.

Fern was never punished for what had happened, as Olivia couldn’t conclusively identify her, but she did back off on her campaign of harassment. Olivia heard that the head teacher had spoken with her and made a number of threats, one being expulsion, if it ever came to light she was responsible, and Fern had spent the rest of the school year giving Olivia a wide berth.

Olivia hadn’t seen her since high school and the encounter tonight had shocked her.

So many years had passed, but she would never forget the humiliation of what Fern had done to her and certainly never forgive her. She wanted to forget the woman even existed.

But why were they both now being targeted? It made no sense.

The idea that she was being punished for something connected to Fern, made Olivia feel a little bit sick. She took another sip of her wine, set it down again, feeling defeated, her shoulders sagging. ‘So there you go. You now know everything about me. Last chance to run away.’ She said it jokingly, but recounting what had happened had sobered her up.

Noah had listened without interruption, his expression stony. Now it softened. ‘Trust me, that isn’t going to happen.’

‘I don’t get it. Why her and why me?’

‘That’s what we need to figure out.’

‘You’re still convinced it has something to do with that night, aren’t you?’

‘I think there are too many coincidences to discount it.’

‘Okay.’ If he was right, was there something she had done during the school trip that had upset someone? Other than Fern of course. She had been sitting with Fern that first night when she had taunted Margaret, had been right there when Malcolm had reacted. It was reasonable to assume he might have judged her on that first encounter, but he had seen her with Margaret, knew they had become friends. Why would he want revenge against someone who had stuck up for his sister?

Olivia scrubbed her hands over her face. She was tired and frustrated, fed up of all the recent fear and worry. ‘I don’t like any of this, Noah. I just want it to stop. I’m sick of being afraid, of knowing that someone is on some kind of twisted revenge mission against me. I just want to go back to my boring life where I’m not scared of being home alone or frightened someone might be watching me whenever I leave the house.’

‘I know.’ He slipped his arm around her, pulled her in close, and she leant into him, steadied by the rhythmic beat of his heart and his warm familiar scent. He stroked his fingers through her hair, pressed a kiss against her forehead. ‘I’ll stay with you until Molly is back. You don’t have to be afraid. We’re gonna figure this out, Liv, I promise. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.’

She believed he meant it, knew he would try to keep her safe, but how could he fulfil that promise when they still didn’t know what they were fighting against?

Everyone’s past catches up with them eventually, including yours. Soon.

It was that last word that was freaking her out. What the hell did Soon mean?

She thought of Gary Lamb, tied to a chair and screaming as the flames ate his flesh, and she closed her eyes, hugged Noah a little tighter.

Soon.