Read Lastnight for Free Online

happened. I don’t see how he could have got himself into a situation where he would have been hurt.’ She pulled tissues from a box and dabbed at her eyes. ‘We’d be in a pub and everything would be cool and then he’d see a group at the bar and he’d know, he’d just know, that they were trouble and we’d leave. It was like a sixth sense. So how did he let those animals get so close to him that they could do that?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ whispered Nightingale.
    ‘And if he knew he was in trouble, why didn’t he fight back?’
    ‘Maybe they surprised him. Maybe they caught him while he was busy doing something else.’
    ‘Gabe always knew what was going on around him,’ she said. ‘You never saw Gabe playing with his phone or wearing headphones while he was out. He was always aware, you know what I mean? He always knew what was going on around him. He loved people-watching, and listening to what they were saying. He wanted to be a writer.’
    ‘Yeah?’
    She nodded quickly, as if she feared that he didn’t believe her. ‘Oh yes, he was really talented. He was writing short stories. Horror, mainly. Like Dean Koontz, the American writer. But Gabe was better.’ She smiled. ‘That’s what I thought anyway. He painted pictures with his words. And a lot of what he wrote about came from what he saw and heard.’
    ‘So I’m guessing he was always happy to talk to strangers?’
    ‘All the time. He was so interested in people, you know? What made them tick, why they said the things that they did.’
    ‘Did you get out much, once the baby was born?’
    She laughed, though there was a brittle quality to the sound as if she was close to crying again. ‘You don’t have children, do you, Jack?’
    Nightingale shook his head.
    ‘They tell you that kids change you for ever, but you don’t really understand what they mean until you have one for yourself. You stop being your own person. It’s all about them, about satisfying their needs. You have to clean them, feed them, keep them warm, amuse them, get them to sleep. There isn’t a waking minute when they’re not the centre of your universe.’ The baby shifted in her lap and she looked down at it and made soft shushing sounds. ‘So the short answer is no, we didn’t get out much once Robert was born.’ She smiled down at the baby. ‘We called him Robert Smith, after the lead singer of the Cure. Gabe’s a huge fan. Had his picture taken with him a few years ago. He’d travel across the country to get to one of their gigs. We both would. Now we’ll have to wait …’ She shuddered and closed her eyes as she realised there was no more ‘we’ any more. There was just her and the child.
    ‘Where would you go for a Goth night out?’ he asked, keen to keep her talking.
    ‘North of the river, usually,’ she said. ‘There isn’t much here in Clapham. Soho, usually. We liked Garlic and Shots in Frith Street and the Royal George in Charing Cross Road. He used to go every second Thursday because that was when the London Vampire Group meets.’
    ‘Vampires?’
    ‘Not real vampires, obviously,’ she said. ‘Just Goths who like to go that bit further. They have sharp teeth and drink blood. Or tomato juice, anyway.’ She smiled. ‘I always thought they were a bit silly, but harmless enough. If it was a vampire night Gabe would go on his own, usually, and I’d have a girls’ night out. And our big thing was the Crypt. You’ve heard of the Crypt, right?’
    Nightingale nodded. ‘Torrens Street, near the Angel Tube station.’
    ‘Yeah, we used to go there a lot.’
    ‘Did he go alone?’
    ‘After Robert was born, you mean? Sometimes. Not so much, though. He shared the feeds and nappy-changing with me. He loved being a dad.’
    ‘The night he was killed, he’d gone out on his own, right?’
    ‘Yes, but not to the Crypt. The Crypt is only open on Saturdays. He was at a work thing, in Vauxhall, not far from the office. He left the pub at ten and