Brutal, page 11
Irena turned round at that moment, and jumped when she saw him standing there.
‘Oh, Frankie, you scare me,’ she chided, her hand on her breast. ‘I did not hear you come down the stair. How long have you been stand there?’
‘Sorry,’ he apologized, grinning sheepishly as he walked into the room. ‘Only a minute.’
‘You cannot come in here,’ she said. ‘This is very special day and dinner must be perfect, so go find something else to do and give me peace.’
Frank didn’t see why she was making such an effort when it was only going to be the two of them eating, but he raised his hands and backed away, saying, ‘OK, I’ll keep out of your way. But can I at least make myself a brew first?’
‘Don’t you need to go feed animal?’ she asked.
‘Bloody hell, you do want rid of me, don’t you?’ he chuckled.
‘Yes, I need concentrate,’ she said, shooing him out into the hall.
‘Fine, I’ll make myself a brew while I’m there,’ he conceded.
‘Good,’ Irena said, handing his coat to him. ‘And don’t come back until two o’clock. Surprise will be ready by then.’
Wondering what on earth she had planned, Frank left her to it.
After he’d seen to the animals and finished his coffee, Frank still had a few hours to kill, so he decided to drive over to Leeds and pay Yvonne a quick visit. It was almost a month since she’d been admitted to hospital, and – to his shame – this would be the first time he’d been to see her. He’d been meaning to go for ages, but he never seemed to have the time – or the energy. Still, Irena wanted him out of the way, and he had nowhere else to go since Evan wasn’t talking to him and he’d pretty much lost touch with his and Maureen’s old friends, so he figured it was as good a time as any.
It was outside of visiting hours when he arrived at the hospital, but he located Yvonne’s ward on the board and took the elevator up to the second floor, holding the box of chocolates he’d bought for her from a garage on the way.
The nurses’ station was unmanned when he reached the ward, so he rested his elbow on the ledge and waited. Several minutes passed with no sign of any staff members, but just as he was about to go and look for someone, he spotted Yvonne lying in a bed at the far end of the ward and decided he might as well go over.
The patients in the other beds he passed were all deathly pale, and there was a peculiar odour in the air which reminded him of the smell he’d noticed in his and Maureen’s bedroom during her last hours. Yvonne’s eyes were closed when he reached her, and he was shocked to see how much older she looked than the last time he’d seen her. But being stuck in here, surrounded by these barely breathing skeletons, would have that effect, he supposed.
‘Yvonne . . .?’ He touched her shoulder gently. ‘Are you awake, love? It’s Frank.’
At the sound of his voice, Yvonne opened her eyes and rolled her head over on the pillow. His heart sank when she gazed up at him as if she’d never seen him before, but then a spark of recognition flared in her eyes, and she gave a weak smile.
‘Hello, pet. What are you doing here?’
‘I came to see you,’ he said, pulling a chair up to the side of the bed. ‘To wish you happy Christmas and give you these.’ He placed the chocolates on the bedside table.
‘It is Christmas?’ She frowned.
‘All day.’ He grinned. ‘So, how are you, love?’
‘Better now I’ve seen you,’ she said, her voice dry and whispery. ‘But you didn’t need to put yourself out on a day like this. You should be at home with Mo and the little ’uns.’
Assuming that she mustn’t have woken properly yet, Frank said, ‘Maureen’s gone, love. Don’t you remember?’
‘Gone?’ Yvonne repeated, her wispy eyebrows creeping together. ‘You don’t mean she’s left you? Oh, love, I’m so sorry. What on earth happened?’
Alarmed to realize that she thought Maureen was still alive, Frank wondered if the blow to her head had caused some kind of damage in there. If so, and he told her the truth, it might upset her, so he decided to play along instead.
‘Everything’s fine, love. Her mum’s not too well, so she went to stay with her for a few days, that’s all.’
‘Oh, right.’ Yvonne looked relieved. ‘Sorry if you’ve already told me, I’ve been forgetting things left right and centre. Must still have baby brain, eh? So, you’ll be having dinner over there with them, will you?’
‘Yeah, I’m driving over soon as I leave here,’ Frank said, wondering what she’d meant by baby brain.
‘I don’t suppose you could ask Mo to make up a plate for Don, could you?’ Yvonne asked. ‘He popped in to see me last night, and I don’t think he’s been eating properly.’
‘Course I will,’ Frank agreed, even more concerned that she thought her late husband was still alive – and that he’d visited her last night – considering it was a good ten years since he’d died.
‘Thanks, love,’ Yvonne said gratefully. ‘I feel bad for leaving him on his own, ’cos he falls to bits when I’m not there. But I can’t go home till Johnny’s strong enough to come with me.’
Frank had never heard any mention of anyone called Johnny, so he wasn’t sure who she was talking about.
‘The poor little mite was crying all night,’ Yvonne went on quietly. ‘But that miserable bugger, Matron, wouldn’t let me keep him in here in case he woke the other babies.’
‘And, um, where is he now?’ Frank asked, trying to remember if he’d ever heard mention of Yvonne and Don having a son.
‘They took him to the nursery to give me a break,’ Yvonne said, pulling a face as she added, conspiratorially, ‘More like they wanted a break. But it’s not his fault he’s poorly, is it?’
‘No, it’s not,’ Frank murmured, thinking this was all getting a bit surreal. ‘I hope he gets better soon.’
‘He’ll be right as rain once I get him home,’ Yvonne said. Then, giving a surreptitious nod in the direction of the desk, she said, ‘Uh, oh . . . Matron’s just walked in, and she doesn’t look best pleased to see you.’
Frank glanced back over his shoulder and stood up when he saw a nurse striding toward them.
‘I’d best get going,’ he said, leaning down to kiss Yvonne’s paper-thin cheek. ‘I’ll try to come and see you again soon.’
‘I’ll probably be home in a few days, so there’s no need,’ Yvonne said. ‘But it was lovely of you to take time to see me today. And don’t forget to make up that plate for Don.’
‘I won’t,’ he promised. ‘Take care, love.’
The nurse had reached them by then, and she said, ‘You shouldn’t be in here. It’s an acute care unit, and visiting hours are strictly regulated.’
‘Sorry, but there was no one around to get permission from,’ Frank apologized as she ushered him toward the door.
‘We’re on skeleton staff because of the holidays,’ she replied curtly. ‘You should have waited.’
‘Sorry,’ he said again. Then, hesitating when they reached the door, he said, ‘Is Yvonne OK? Only she was saying some pretty weird stuff.’
‘Are you a relative?’
‘No, I’m her neighbour.’
‘Then I’m afraid I can’t discuss this with you.’
‘I know you can’t go into detail, but I’ve never seen her like this before,’ Frank persisted. ‘She’s usually as sharp as a tack, but she was talking about people from the past as if they’re still alive. She thinks my late wife is at home waiting for me, and she told me her husband visited her here last night, even though he’s been dead for years. And she said you took her baby off her last night because he wouldn’t stop crying. Do you think it might be related to the head injury?’
‘She’s being closely monitored,’ the nurse replied. ‘But it might help if one of her relatives came to see her, so maybe you could give them a nudge if you get the chance?’
‘I’ve never actually met her family,’ said Frank. ‘I didn’t even know she had a child, and I’ve known her for twenty-odd years.’
‘Well, I suppose that explains why she’s had no visitors since she was admitted,’ the nurse said.
It felt like an accusation, and Frank’s cheeks reddened as he said, ‘I’ve been meaning to come in for ages, but I’ve got a lot on, so I haven’t had the time.’
The look the nurse gave him told him that she’d heard a million such lame excuses from the friends and relatives of the close-to-death patients in her care, and he felt even more ashamed of himself.
At the sound of a buzzer, the nurse said, ‘Sorry, I need to go and see to that.’
‘Yeah, course,’ Frank said, stepping out into the corridor. ‘Happy Christmas,’ he added, but she’d already closed the doors.
Sighing, he rode the lift back down to the ground floor and walked outside. If Yvonne had suffered some kind of trauma to the brain, he hoped it wasn’t permanent, because he doubted she’d be allowed to go home while she was so far out of touch with reality. She would need looking after, and Social Services would probably step in and have her moved into a care home. Yvonne would absolutely hate that, but there would be nothing Frank or anyone else could do about it if her family couldn’t be traced.
Making a mental note to have a little nose around in the cottage when he went to feed the animals that afternoon, to see if he could find an address for the mysterious Johnny, Frank climbed into his car and set off for home.
17
The bumper of a car was sticking out from the behind the wall at the back of the house when Frank pulled onto his drive, and his heart leapt as he wondered if Evan had decided to pay him a surprise visit. Quickly parking up, he unlocked the front door and smiled when he heard the low murmur of voices coming from behind the closed kitchen door. A male laugh rang out as he was slipping his coat off, and he paused and tipped his head to one side. It hadn’t sounded anything like Evan’s laugh, and he frowned as it occurred to him that it might not be his son, after all. But if it wasn’t Evan, who was it? Irena would never have opened the door for someone she didn’t know.
Nikolai . . . The name leapt into his head.
Had the man tracked her down and forced his way in?
Shaking now, Frank was looking around for something to use as a weapon when Irena’s tinkling laugh drifted out to him. She didn’t sound scared, so maybe it was Evan.
He opened the kitchen door with a half-smile on his lips, but it slipped when he saw Irena sitting at the table with two men he’d never seen before: one blond, with a tattoo of three teardrops running down from the corner of his eye; the other with jet-black hair, dark eyes, and heavily tattooed hands.
Irena spotted him and leapt to her feet.
‘Ah, good, you are home.’
‘What’s going on?’ he asked, warily eyeing the men.
‘Is my surprise,’ she said, placing her hand on the shoulder of the dark-haired one. ‘Karel has arrive to spend Christmas with us. Is fantastic, yes?’
‘Sorry?’ Frank was thrown. ‘I thought he was supposed to be in Prague? And how did he know where to find you?’
‘I tell him address in email,’ Irena said, her smile faltering. ‘What is wrong? I think you will be happy for me.’
Something about the way the brother was looking at him made Frank feel uneasy. Irena had never mentioned his age, but from the way she’d spoken about him, Frank had assumed him to be a child. This man, however, appeared to be around the same age as her, if not older.
‘Could I speak to you for a minute?’ he asked Irena, backing out into the hall.
About to do as he’d asked, Irena hesitated when the man grasped her wrist and pulled her down to whisper into her ear. Frank’s mind was spinning. He’d had no idea she was planning to invite her brother over, and it upset him that she hadn’t thought to ask if he minded before going ahead. And where had she found the money to send for him, because Frank certainly hadn’t given it to her?
Irena was the first to speak when she came out.
‘Why are you behave like this?’ she hissed, pulling the door shut behind her. ‘I have tell them you are good man and will make them feel welcome, but you are treat them like stranger.’
‘That’s because they are strangers to me,’ Frank replied quietly, guiding her into the living room, conscious that the men might be able to hear them. ‘You should have told me he was coming and given me time to prepare, but I didn’t even know he’d replied to your email.’
‘You tell me to help myself to computer, so this is what I do. I think you would be happy for me.’
‘I’d have been happier if you’d discussed it with me first. And who’s the other one?’
‘He is friend.’ Irena folded her arms. ‘He help bring Karel into country.’
‘And are you expecting me to let them both stay?’
‘Is this not my home, too, Frankie?’ Irena frowned. ‘Did you not ask me to stay and share your bed – like wife without ring?’
‘Yes, but this isn’t about you,’ Frank argued. ‘I know he’s your brother, and you’ve been worried about him, but—’
The door opened before he could go on, and Karel strolled in.
‘There is problem?’ he asked, his accent even thicker than Irena’s.
‘No, there is no problem,’ Irena said, her gaze fixed on Frank as if pleading with him to back her up.
For her sake, he smiled and extended his hand.
‘It’s nice to meet you, Karel.’
The man grasped his hand and gave it a vice-like squeeze. Sensing that it was deliberate, Frank willed himself not to react – and he resisted the urge to rub his crushed fingers when Karel released him.
‘Sorry if I seemed a bit off when I came in,’ he said, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them safe. ‘I’ve just come back from visiting my neighbour in hospital, and I’m a bit worried about her.’
‘Is she get better?’ Irena asked.
‘It’s hard to tell,’ said Frank. ‘She was saying some pretty weird stuff while I was there, but the nurse told me they’re keeping an eye on her, so I’m hoping they’ll find out what’s wrong and fix it.’
Conscious of Karel’s piercing stare as he spoke, Frank wondered if it was a symptom of the mental problem Irena had alluded to. She’d said their father found him difficult, and he was beginning to understand why, because the man had a decidedly menacing air about him.
The blond man walked into the room just then, and looked from Karel to Irena.
‘What’s happening? I’m starvin’ me arse off out there while youse lot are having a chit-chat.’
Frank’s eyebrows rose in surprise when he heard the man’s Mancunian accent.
‘Oh . . . you’re British?’
‘Yeah, and?’ the man replied churlishly.
‘Not now, Nick,’ Irena murmured, flashing the man a hooded look.
A chill skittered down Frank’s spine. Nick . . . Or Nikolai?
He’d been right. The man had tracked her down, and he’d forced his way in and made Irena lie about who he was so Frank wouldn’t get suspicious. But why was her brother going along with that if he knew his sister was being abused?
Still studying Frank’s face, Karel’s eyes narrowed, and a sly smile lifted the corner of his thick lips.
‘Is something wrong, Frankie?’
Confused to hear that the man’s heavy accent had disappeared, Frank took a step back, saying, ‘I know who you are, and you need to get out of my house right now.’
‘Oh, dear . . . looks like we’ve been rumbled,’ Nick chuckled.
‘I mean it,’ Frank barked, fumbling his phone out of his pocket. ‘Get out, or I’m calling the police.’
Nick lunged at him before he had a chance to press any numbers and smacked the phone out of his hand. Watching as it skittered across the floor, Frank turned and snatched the house-phone out of its stand on the computer table. He jabbed his finger on the 9 button, but it was dead, and he realized they had disconnected it when he saw the wire on the floor.
Nick grabbed him by the front of his jumper and dragged him out from behind the chair before shoving him forcefully down onto the seat.
‘Now be a good boy and you won’t get hurt,’ he said, placing a hand on each of the chair’s arms and staring into Frank’s eyes.
A surge of adrenaline brought Frank back up to his feet, and he slammed his hands into the man’s chest and propelled him toward the door, yelling, ‘GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!’
Unfazed, Karel looked pointedly down at his friend’s hand, and said, ‘I’d calm down if I was you, old man.’
Frank hesitated and followed his gaze. Shocked to see that Nick was holding a gun, he raised his hands and backed slowly away, smashing his knee against the corner of the coffee table before falling heavily back onto his chair.
‘What do you want?’ he asked.
Karel looked at Irena and raised an eyebrow.
‘Do you want to tell him, or shall I?’
‘Tell me what?’ Frank croaked.
‘He still don’t get it,’ Nick sneered, slotting the gun into the waistband of his jeans.
‘Yes, I do,’ said Frank. ‘You’re the ones who held her prisoner and beat her senseless when she refused to sleep with the men you lined up to abuse her. She told me everything.’
‘Don’t tell me you actually fell for that shit?’ Nick snorted.
Sweat was seeping from Frank’s pores, and he felt it run down the side of his face when Karel mimicked Irena, saying: ‘Oh, Frankie, help me. The bad man has brought me into the country and forced me into prostitution.’
Unable to believe she was playing a voluntary role in whatever this was, Frank looked to her for answers, but she wouldn’t – or couldn’t – meet his eye.
