I scramble up, wobbling slightly on my numb feet. Pain throbs through my knee as I put my weight on it. I open the door but of course William can’t come inside because he can’t get the wheelchair over the step. I stagger forward and collapse into his arms, sobs wrenching out of my chest. With his strong arms around me I almost feel safe again.

  ‘Tell me what he looked like and exactly what he said,’ William asks when I’m a little calmer.

  I pull away from him and wipe my wet eyes with my fingertips then tell him as much as I can remember. I sniff and he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket. His face is expressionless in the dark.

  ‘Did he go past your house?’ I ask. ‘How do you think he got here? I didn’t hear a car.’

  ‘I looked out for him after you called but there was no sign of him. He might have cut through the woods and left his car further along the lane. Where’s your friend, Kirsty? I thought she was staying for a few more days.’

  ‘She went off in a huff because–’ My God, what if she hadn’t gone off at all? What if she’d been taken off? Maybe someone snatched her before she finished packing. Simon or the horrible man who just attacked me. No, that’s stupid. She’d taken her things with her.

  Yet she’d left her precious pillow behind.

  That was only because she was in a mood. Wasn’t it? My voice is verging on a wail and I fight to control my emotions. ‘She’s gone without saying goodbye. I’m worried about her.’

  ‘Phone her.’

  ‘I tried a short while ago but it went to voicemail.’ I try again at William’s suggestion but there’s still no reply.

  ‘She’s probably asleep.’

  That’s true.

  ‘Try her in the morning.’

  I will. The suggestion reminds me that it’s the middle of the night.

  ‘I don’t think that man will be back tonight,’ William says. ‘It sounds like he wants his message delivered and he’s got to allow time for that. Even if you can’t actually deliver it because Simon isn’t here.’

  What if he is here though? That would explain the clothes and the food.

  William yawns and I suddenly realise I’m keeping him up. Should I ask him if I can stay at his place? No, he only has one bedroom and his sofa is far too small to sleep on.

  ‘Thanks for coming William. Will you come to the door with me then go round to the lawn in front of the French windows? I’ll wave to you when I’m in my room.’

  ‘Of course,’ he says.

  A few minutes later I stand at the window and wave. I’ve put all the lamps back on but with the curtains behind me I can see his outline in the moonlight. He waves back then turns his chair and trundles off.

  I put jeans, a loose sweatshirt and trainers on. William is probably right when he says the man won’t be back but I feel too vulnerable in my nightwear. I’d rather sleep fully clothed in case I need to run away. I lie awake with the television on and the volume turned down low to give the illusion of company but every muscle in my body is tense. The light-hearted sitcom and canned laughter help a little to lessen the threatening atmosphere in the house.

  As I stare vacantly at the screen I try to work out what’s niggling at the back of my mind. There was something Gripper said that made a connection in my brain. What was it?

  Kensington.

  He said he’d done a job in Kensington. That’s where my father was bludgeoned to death. God, had Simon hired that man to murder my father? Is Gripper someone he knew in prison? But why kill my dad? Was it to get his hands on the inheritance? If that’s the case then I must also be a threat to Simon. I don’t think my anxiety has made me paranoid at all. I think Simon is out to get me. I’ve read books where the predator decides to play with the victim and torment them before killing them. Is that what Simon is doing?

  I’m barricaded in but still don’t feel safe. I keep the knife inches from my hand and the white pepper I found in the kitchen tucked into my front hoodie pocket. I daren’t sleep. I’ll stay awake all night and as soon as daylight comes I’ll be out of here. But where will I go? I’ve run out of options. I’ll have to go back to the B&B while I wait for Reuben to come back. I wonder why I didn’t call the police from the coach house and suppose I was too panicked to think of it. I’ll call them in the morning. That man killed my father and I want him locked up. Simon too.

  I can’t imagine falling asleep – I don’t envisage ever being able to sleep again – but I can’t take the risk so I sit upright in the armchair, holding my knife and pot of pepper while inane American sitcoms play across the television. I don’t find them funny at the best of times but now I stare woodenly at the screen and turn everything over in my mind. I left Luton to find a safe haven but I’m in more danger here.

  A tinkling of broken glass from the direction of the kitchen has me leaping out of the chair as though it’s on fire. Shit! Simon’s coming for me. I check the pepper is securely in my pocket then push the chest of drawers away from the door. I need to go through the drawing room if he’s in the kitchen. I grab my torch and car keys and run through the dark room and into the hall. Which way? Which way? I start towards the front door then change my mind. He might have done this to lure me outside. He might be waiting for me.

  I’ll hide instead.

  I run up the stairs and along the landing to the box room. I pull open the huge cupboard and climb inside then pull the door shut. I grab a musty suit from its hanger and put it over my head. It’ll take him ages to search the house and find me here.

  ‘Hello, Tasha.’ A slow, creepy whisper comes from right next to me. Fuck! He’s already in the cupboard. Or are there two of them? It’s not the same whisper as Gripper’s. My heart stops beating and the hairs lift on my skin. How did he get in here? I throw the jacket off, lean sideways and shove my knife in his direction. I hear a grunt of pain. I burst out of the cupboard and run across the landing then down the stairs. He’s stumbling along behind me. Maybe I stabbed him in the leg. I fumble with the front door locks then throw the door wide, snatch my keys from the hook on the frame and rush outside towards my car.

  I stop in horror. My car’s on fire. Bright orange flames are curling themselves into a ball, circling the interior. I don’t have the keys for the old Renault parked near to it and there isn’t time to get them. As I attempt to run past the blazing car a window explodes and glass scatters at my feet. I dodge round it and keep going as the flames escape through the opening.

  I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I start along the driveway. I’ll go to William’s house. I should have asked to stay there, to sit up all night on his sofa. He’d keep me safe. But Simon could be gaining on me and I’m too visible in the fire light. I’ll have to go into the woods where I can hide first.

  I switch off my torch and race across the lawns, grateful when the moon disappears behind a thick cloud. I burst into the ferns and undergrowth but try not to trample them. I can’t risk leaving a trail for him to follow. I was frightened of these woods but now they shield and protect me. I’m shaking all over and my breath comes in ragged gasps though I’m scared to breathe in case he hears me. The moon breaks through the clouds and faint blue light filters through the trees to give me a brief view of the way ahead. I stumble on, stubbing my toe painfully on a fallen branch and snagging my jeans on bramble thorns. The moonlight disappears again but my eyes are adjusting and I can make out shapes in front of me – a dip in the ground, a huge oak tree.

  I stop to listen. Nothing.

  No sound of anyone crashing through the woods, but a noise to my left freezes the blood in my veins. It’s a whimper. I wonder if there’s an injured animal lying there but then the whimper comes again. It’s not an animal, it’s a human.

  Chapter 54

  I stand rooted to the spot, afraid to move. Whoever it is they’re in pain. Is it Simon with the stab wound in his leg? Or did he hurt William and dump him in the woods before he came for me?

  I tread cautiously towards the sound, straining to see in the dark. The moon shows its face again and slants beams of light through the trees. There. I can see a mound near the undergrowth rolling slightly from side to side. I edge forward, scared that I’m walking into a trap.

  The human form moans again and this time I recognise who it is. Kirsty. Oh my God! What’s she doing here? I rush forward, stumbling over a tree root and righting myself before I fall on her. Her arms are tied behind her back. I kneel down and, taking her shoulder, roll her gently towards me. Her arm is wet.

  ‘Kirsty, it’s me,’ I whisper.

  She moans louder this time.

  ‘Sshh. We have to be quiet or he’ll find us.’ My voice is barely audible but she nods. She has a black band of fabric tied around her eyes and a gag in her mouth. Shall I cut it with the knife? No, I might hurt her. I fumble with the knot, my fingers clumsy with panic and my mind racing. How long has she been here? Is she badly injured? Did he rape her? At last the fabric loosens around her face and I manage to remove the gag. She takes in a huge gasp of air and I lean down to whisper in her ear.

  ‘Stay quiet. I’ll untie you then we’ll get out of here.’ I sound calm but inside I’m in turmoil. Next, I work on the blindfold. This is difficult as her hair is caught in it but I untangle the silky strands and get it off without hurting her too much. Finally, I untie her wrists and feet, constantly looking up and listening, fully alert to any clue that Simon has found us. I can’t see or hear any sign of him. Hopefully he’ll have gone along the driveway thinking I’ve gone that way. Kirsty rubs her wrists and one ankle then nurses the other with both hands. She’s sobbing softly. I wrap my arms gently around her and hold her. She’s shivering.

  ‘Are you injured?’ I whisper. ‘Can you walk?’

  ‘I’m bleeding,’ she whispers. ‘He stabbed me.’

  Shit. ‘Where?’

  ‘My arm. I was trying to protect myself. I’ve lost a lot of blood. I think I’ve broken my ankle as well.’

  What will we do now? I think fast, then get on all fours facing the tree trunk. ‘Can you climb on my back?’

  She struggles towards me, her swollen ankle lifted from the ground. I feel her weight land on me and brace myself as she wraps her arms around me, one gripping more firmly than the other. She moans with pain.

  ‘Hold on to me,’ I whisper. I walk my hands, one over the other, up the trunk of the tree, pausing now and then and exhaling slowly with the effort of taking her weight. Once we’re upright I wrap my arms around her legs and pull her in tighter. I stagger, then take a tentative step forward. I can do this. I’m going to save us. My knee is aching from my earlier fall. We’ve only gone a few yards when my legs wobble and my back screams in protest. How far is it to William’s place?

  I can’t see much and I can no longer put my hands out in front of me. My toe hits a log and we sway precariously as I try to sidestep it.

  ‘You’re strangling me,’ I whisper to Kirsty as her grip tightens around my neck. I can feel a trickle of blood running down my chest from her arm. I need to bandage it but I have to move her in case he comes back for her. I’m desperate to ask her what happened but I need to keep moving, to put some distance between us and the man who is after us. Is it Simon? It must be. Who else can it be? Julian. What if it’s Julian? I stagger on, every muscle radiating pain throughout my body. ‘Did you see who took you?’ I ask eventually, panting with effort.

  Kirsty’s breath is warm and damp on my ear. ‘No, he grabbed me from behind as I crossed the yard. He put a knife to my throat and told me he’d kill me if I tried to escape. I was so frightened.’

  I feel her tears wetting my cheek. ‘It’s okay now. We’ll be safe soon.’ As I say this my foot disappears down a rabbit hole and we tip over sideways into leaf mould and soil. Despite the soft ground my left shoulder hits it hard and Kirsty grunts as the air is knocked from her lungs. She rolls off me with a whimper of pain. I don’t think I can do this. She’s too heavy for me. I’m not strong enough. I can’t leave her behind though so I’ll have to try once more.

  ‘Shall I drag you to that tree? You need to get on my back again.’

  I pull her under the arms but she whimpers in pain.

  ‘Stop. Leave me here and go for help. Cover me with the leaves and I’ll wait for you. Call me when it’s safe and I’ll call back. He won’t find me and if he wanted to kill me he’d have done it earlier. It’ll be quicker this way.’

  She’s right. It will be quicker. I’ll call the police from William’s place. Before I leave her, I take off my hoodie and T-shirt then put my hoodie back on. I need the pocket to conceal my weapons. I bind the T-shirt around her arm and tell her to press on it to stem the bleeding, then I cover her body with the leaves and lean down to kiss her cold cheek before placing a few bigger leaves on her face. The smell of damp undergrowth and last year’s decomposing autumn is strong. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can. Stay quiet until you’re sure it’s me. If I call the word ‘peng’ you’ll know it’s safe to come out.’

  Kirsty gives a weak giggle. ‘Thank you for saving me, you’re a true friend.’

  I haven’t saved her yet but I am a true friend, as she is to me. I feel terrible leaving her in agony and in the dark all alone. I should have known she wouldn’t desert me. I should have raised the alarm when she disappeared.

  I struggle on, completely lost, stumbling forward and catching glimpses of the moon which I try to keep over my right shoulder. I’ve heard tales of people going round in circles when they’re lost. The woods suddenly seem vast and I feel like I’ve been trying to find my way out for ages. It’s incredible that I heard Kirsty but then she was on a direct path from the house. Maybe whoever put her there didn’t intend leaving her for long. I pause. Is that a glimmer of light through the trees up ahead? I push forward again but I’m impeded by a wall of brambles which scratch painfully at my bare hands and face and tether me by my clothes. I’ll have to find a way around them. I go sideways, frustrated that I can see where I need to be but I’m unable to get there, when suddenly the trees thin out and I’m at the edge of the woods near the driveway and the small bridge. Thank God, thank God.

  I look around before hurrying along the rutted track. Lights glow behind the diamond-paned glass of William’s coach house, warm and inviting with the promise of safety. I run around the back of the building. William is still up and must be watching television. I can hear him laughing at something. I knock on the door, my heart beating with anxiety. I need to get help for Kirsty as quickly as possible.

  William comes to the door and looks surprised to see me. I feel tearful with relief.

  ‘Tasha! Is everything all right? You look terrible. What’s happened?’

  I squeeze past his chair and into his lounge. ‘Shut the door, quickly. There’s someone after me.’

  He pokes his head out of the door and looks from left to right then backs up his wheelchair and presses the button to shut the door. I run into the lounge then turn to him.

  ‘Where’s your phone? I need to call the police.’

  He doesn’t reply. He has a strange expression on his face as though he’s not in control of his features. Is he having a stroke? Is he as frightened as me? He puts his hand behind his back and pulls something out. I realise he’s holding my missing kitchen knife. ‘Where did you–’ My words shrivel and die as his face contorts. My confusion turns to horror as William gets to his feet and rocks my world out of orbit.

  Chapter 55

  ‘Hello Tasha.’ His voice is different – harsh, mocking and cruel. Is it the one I heard in the cupboard? A shiver runs through me. I don’t understand and my brain can’t register what I’m seeing and hearing. I stand and stare, trying to make sense of it. This can’t be true. William wouldn’t hurt me.

  ‘Wondering how I got inside the cupboard?’ he asks me, and I nod, shock numbing my brain of all rational thought.

  I look at his legs and see a cut in the grey fabric of his jogging bottoms with a circle of blood around the hole. It is him. I stabbed him.

  ‘Andrew and I used to have great fun tricking visitors with the secret staircase.’ He chuckles.

  ‘Secret staircase?’ I echo, my voice sounding hollow and far away.

  ‘It’s hidden behind the bookcase in the small office near the kitchen. I came in the scullery and went straight up the stairs. It comes out behind the wardrobe you hid in. It was built for the servants to use years ago to take bathwater and coal upstairs but we put the cupboard there and took the back off it.’ He looks pleased with himself. ‘I thought you might try to hide and I was going to listen where you went. I couldn’t believe my luck when you hid in there with me. Saved me looking for you – although that would have been part of the fun.’

  ‘You can walk?’ I ask. A stupid question as he’s taken two steps towards me, my kitchen knife still pointed at my chest. I’m reminded of my recurring nightmare on the railway bridge, and my knees weaken.

  ‘Yep, and run and play football. “Ooh, poor little William,” he chants in a mocking high-pitched voice, “how awful for you to be disabled. Let me know if I can help.” Where do you think I’ve been disappearing to all these times, eh? I had to go out of the area so I could walk about and run. In fact, when this is over I might even climb Kilimanjaro. I’ve always fancied doing that. Yes.’ He pauses as though deep in thought. ‘It’s been hard being confined to the wheelchair but hey, the payoff was worth it.’ He gets closer and I walk slowly backwards until the sofa is pressing into my calves.

  ‘But why?’ I’m so stunned I can’t form whole sentences. Nothing adds up and my mind races around for an explanation.

  ‘Why pretend? So I can be William, my dear girl. The wonderful William who was loved by everyone – almost as much as my nauseating brother Andrew was.’

  Simon, Jesus, he’s Simon. ‘But where’s the real William?’

  ‘Taking a long dip in the lake. You’ll be joining him soon. And your pal, Kirsty. She’s just waiting to be collected for the pool party. She’ll be along later.’ He laughs at his own joke.

 

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