An Impossible Dilemma: A Psychological Thriller Novel, page 14
“Oh, to be young and carefree,” Frank said, folding his newspaper.
Emily got to the door and stopped. “Hekker?”
Hector stopped his conversation with Steph and said, “Eh?”
“Hegs!” she said, and giggling, ran up the stairs.
“So, we may see you later?” Steph said.
“If we do come, it’ll be early and then we’ll go on somewhere else. I don’t want Emily around a load of drunks.”
“Fair enough. See you there, if you make it.” She left with Hector in tow.
“Okay, Frank. Are you going to be okay alone?”
“Are you kidding? I’m looking forward to the peace and quiet.”
“I’ll have my phone if you need me for anything.”
“I won’t. But thanks.”
I went upstairs to check on Emily and helped her finish the last of the tidying. “I’ll make a deal with you.” I said. “We’ll go to the pub and have an hour there, and then we’ll go on to somewhere else. Is there anything else you fancy doing?”
“Dunno.” She shrugged.
***
I had to park ten minutes down the road and walk back. From the door the inside of the pub looked like wall-to-wall people.
I really didn’t want to go in.
This had been the first crowded place I’d been to since Jonathan’s funeral, and I seemed to be having some kind of panic attack. My legs were shaking and I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans. I had to concentrate on my breathing, and it took several deep breaths to get my lungs working properly.
I gripped Emily’s hand, and bent to talk to her over the loud hum pulsing through the door.
“It’s busy, Em. Maybe we should come back later?”
“Aw. I just saw Kaylie. Can we go in, please?”
As we reached the door my head started swimming. I had to steady myself on the doorjamb before entering.
The small pub was filled with kids. The back doors and windows were opened up, showing the beer garden was also chock-a-block with families.
We passed the bar and noticed Hector busily loading the dishwasher.
“Hector, hi,” I called. Emily waved frantically.
“Khello.” Hector’s face lit up and he waved as though he hadn’t seen us in weeks. Then pointed to Steph, who was propping up the bar, as she told us she would be.
“Vic, come over here,” she called.
I shook my head and pointed to the beer garden and then to Emily.
She nodded and hopped off her stool and joined us. “Mayhem, isn’t it?” she shouted.
I nodded, needing to get outside to stop the panic rising in my chest. We shoved our way through the crowds.
Emily soon met up with several of her friends and they were having a wild old time on the bouncy castle.
Stephanie and I watched them for a while but then the bucking bronco soon distracted us, and we laughed hysterically at some of the sights we saw.
One guy confidently climbed on, dressed to kill in his skintight black jeans and fitted shirt. Gelled-back hair and cool dude shades told us he imagined himself God’s gift to women.
He started out well, but the operator must have had a mean streak as one minute he was giving a good old show, and the next he’d been unceremoniously splattered onto the mat. His glasses were skew-whiff on his face. He jumped up too quickly to look cool and vanished into the toilet.
Next, a large girl sat astride the mechanical bull who had the crowd in hysterics before it got started. She wore a denim miniskirt and a short gypsy-style top, both at least two sizes too small. When she tipped forward, her bottom raised in the air, giving all and sundry a look at tomorrow’s laundry. She landed moments later, flat on her back, legs akimbo, in a very unflattering position.
“Why would anybody do this?” I laughed.
Steph shook her head. “I have no idea.”
It amazed me that the queue of people prepared to make fools of themselves hadn’t diminished at all. In fact, it kept getting longer.
“Can I have a drink, Mummy?” Emily had come up behind us, her little face bright red from chasing her friends around the bouncy castle.
“Course you can, baby. Hold on.”
“I’ll come too,” Steph said.
“You stay here with Kaylie’s mum till I come back.”
I followed Steph to the bar. We waited for at least ten minutes before we were served. I ordered two glasses of orange juice and a vodka and coke for Steph.”
Two men sidled up to us. One was a short and dumpy, square-shaped bloke, the other lanky and thin. “Can we get you pretty ladies a drink?” the taller of the two asked, winking at me.
“No thanks,” I smiled lifting my glass up.
“Vodka and Coke, please.”
“Steph!” I said, eyeballing her.
“What? There’s no harm in buying me a drink.”
“Oh well, see you outside.” I made my way back to the beer garden.
Emily was sitting next to Kaylie’s mum and looked a little peaky. “Here you go, baby. Are you not feeling well?”
She shook her head, sipped at the juice and handed it back to me.
“Is she okay?” Kaylie’s mum asked. “I’d heard she wasn’t’ well, but she seemed fine running around earlier.”
“She has been fine, but she must have overdone it.” I smiled.
Emily leaned her head onto her arms.
“I’d better get her home.” I placed the glasses down on the table and lifted Emily into my arms. As I fought my way through the bar, I noticed Stephanie still engrossed in conversation with the two guys.
I hiked back to the car, Emily a dead weight in my arms, and my legs threatened to collapse. My body shook with the sheer effort, and a strange twinge pulled in my lower stomach. Probably just a stitch, but I didn’t want to push it.
“Shall we get you home, my baby?”
Emily nodded. “I think I’m not better anymore.”
My stomach hit the floor. “You’ve just tired yourself out that’s all. You’ll see.”
***
As I carried her in to the house, Frank met us in the hallway. “I didn’t expect you back this soon,” he said, his head cocked to one side.
“Emily’s not feeling too well,” I said. Our eyes held, and I shook my head, before carrying her up to her room.
I began reading her a story but she fell asleep before I finished the first page.
My feet dragged as I walked down the stairs. Just lifting them had become an effort. The last five months had been a reprieve, but it made me more aware of the future and the heartbreak that loomed.
Frank came out of the snug again.
“It’s happening, Frank. Just like that—” I clicked my fingers, “—and she’s sick again.”
“Maybe she’s just tired. It’s hot out there—it saps your energy.”
“Who are you trying to kid, Frank? Me? Yourself?” I didn’t mean to snap at him. “We know how quickly she got better. Why would becoming sick again happen gradually? It won’t.”
He dropped his eyes to the floor and I saw I had hurt his feelings. Guilt hit me. He’d been so supportive and I’d be lost without him.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take it out on you. It just breaks my heart, that’s all.” I moved to hug him.
“I know, lass, mine too.”
I found myself in his arms, sobbing into his chest. I was reminded of the night outside Emily’s room and the way I had drawn strength from his embrace. He made me feel things would be all right, although I knew they couldn’t be.
“Come on, lass. Let’s sit you down.” He made to go into the snug but I stopped abruptly and he changed direction to the kitchen instead.
***
A couple of hours later Emily joined us in the lounge.
“Hey, Em, are you feeling any better?” I asked, holding my arms out to her.
Emily climbed onto my knee looking decidedly sorry for herself.
“Can I get you something to eat?” I kissed her cheek.
She shook her head. “Not hungry.”
“Okay, what do you want to do?”
“Watch Mary Poppins.”
My heart sank. She’d not had any desire to sit in front of the TV for months—she’d been much too busy for that. I recognised it as another warning sign.
I glanced at Frank sitting at the dining table, studying the TV Guide. “Come on, lass. I’ll put it on for you.
I smiled in gratitude. I didn’t want to set foot in the snug unless absolutely necessary. I knew I was being silly—after everything else I’d gone through, how could a room affect me so much? But I couldn’t help it.
That night, I loaded the last of the dishes into the dishwasher while Frank emptied the rubbish bin before bed.
I started as the phone rang and looked at the clock. Almost ten.
“Strange,” I glanced at Frank and wiped my hands on a tea-towel “Who would be ringing at this hour?”
“Hello?”
“Hello, Victoria. It’s Stan from The Bells.”
‘Oh, hello, if you’re looking for Hector, I’m afra—.”
“It’s you I need to speak to, lass. There’s been an incident here this evening involving Hector and Stephanie. Stephanie has just left in an ambulance. She’s in a bad way, I’m afraid.”
“What?” My head spun. “What sort of incident?” I swallowed noisily.
“Hector attacked her as they left the pub, and we didn’t realise what was happening until it was too late. He beat her. Badly, I’m afraid.”
“Oh my God! Where is he?”
“He left. We heard the commotion and by the time we got outside, Hector had jumped in the car and scarpered.”
My mind went momentarily blank. She’d told me about the last time, but having known him for five months and shared a home with him, even grown to love his fun-loving childish ways, I couldn’t absorb this new information. He normally appeared a gentle and loving man.
“Victoria, are you there?”
“Yes, Stan. Thanks for letting me know. I’d best get to the hospital.”
“Would you let us know how she is?”
“I will do.” I hung up.
“What was that all about?” Frank said.
“Hector has attacked Stephanie, and she’s in hospital. I’d best get there. Will you be …”
“I’ll be fine. Just go.”
Chapter 20
The accident and emergency department buzzed with the usual drunken Saturday night crowd.
One guy sat on the floor of the entrance, vomiting into a rubbish bin. He had blood smeared down his face and stank to high heaven.
Two more men stood in front of me at the reception desk, trying to hold each other upright. The poor young girl behind the counter couldn’t understand a word they said. She called for an older woman to help her, who happened to be fluent in drunkspeak and understood every word.
It soon emerged they’d been playing around with a shopping trolley and one of them was flung out. He landed on the road, receiving a deep gash to his head.
Once they took a seat the young receptionist shrugged at me apologetically, raising her eyes to the ceiling. “How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for my friend. Stephanie Cross—she’s been brought in by ambulance.”
“One minute, I’ll check for you. Ah yes. She’s being seen now. Come through and I’ll show you where she is.” The door buzzed open to the side of her and she led me down a corridor. Then she poked her head behind a curtain, before holding the curtain open for me to enter.
Stephanie began to cry when she saw me.
She was a mess, her face mottled shades of purple and red. Her left eye had completely closed, and the large black egg-shaped lump below it was obviously filled with blood. Her nose looked broken and the right side of her face was badly grazed.
“Vic,” she said.
I noticed, as she spoke, that half of her front tooth was gone.
“Oh my God, Steph. What the hell has he done to you?” I perched on the edge of the bed and pulled her to me. Both of us broke into floods of tears.
After a few minutes, Steph wiped her eyes. “I was drunk. I’d been chatting to those guys, but I didn’t mean anything by it. Hector didn’t … he seem bothered until we left the pub and then—Wham! The first smack came from nowhere.”
Her words were slow and disjointed, and had a funny whistle to them. She had to suck air in between sentences as her lips were swollen and bleeding.
“He dragged me across the car park by my hair. Look.” She turned slightly, and showed me a bald patch where a massive clump of hair had been ripped from her head.
“I’ll kill him,” I said. “We never should have trusted him again.”
“It’s all my fault. I wanted to believe him. He could be so … so lovely. You saw that, right?” Another bout of sobs followed.
I nodded. “But he’d attacked you before, and out of the blue that time too.”
She tried to sit up, but gasped and gripped her side. “I think he’s broken my ribs. He kicked me in my stomach, over and over. I didn’t think he was going to stop.”
“What did the doctor say?”
“He said I’m lucky. There’s nothing major—apart from my ribs. They’re keeping me in tonight. I’m waiting for them to arrange a bed in the ward.
“I’ll stay with you till then,” I said.
***
When I pulled up outside the house, I was flabbergasted at the sight Stephanie’s car parked on the driveway and Frank standing at the front door.
“I raced from the car. “What the hell! Is he inside?”
“Hang on, Victoria—HANG ON!” His raised voice and stern tone stopped me in my tracks.
“What? I don’t give two shits what he told you. He’s not welcome here. You should see the state of her, Frank. He almost killed her.”
“I agree, but it’s not that simple. He’s unconscious.”
I pushed past him into the hallway. “Where is he?”
“In the bedroom.”
I charged upstairs and burst into the room.
Hector lay face down on the bed, completely out of it.”
“Hector! Hector!” I shouted.
Nothing.
I grabbed hold of his hair and yanked it back. Reminding me about the clump of hair he’d torn from Steph’s head.
No response at all.
“What happened, Frank?”
“He came back just after you’d left. Let himself in and began searching the house for Steph. He seemed distraught. I told him Steph had gone to the hospital but he couldn’t understand me.”
“Did he seem drunk?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“This isn’t a normal sleep,” I said, shaking my head.
“I think he took something.”
I pulled back Hector’s eyelids; his pupils weren’t reactive, and were the size of pinpricks. “I think he’s overdosed on something.”
“That’s what I wanted to say to you, lass. He was sick in the sink and it was full of pills.”
I raced to the bathroom with Frank close behind me. A pool of mustard-coloured vomit filled the basin, along with several blue, oval-shaped pills. The vile stench hit my nostrils, causing me to gag.
“Shit, Frank. Why didn’t you call an ambulance?”
“Because I was waiting for you.”
“What for? He could die.”
“For Emily.”
“Oh my God. You can’t be serious!” I stared at him, hoping I’d misunderstood him, but knowing, deep down, exactly what he meant.
Frank didn’t move. His face didn’t alter as he stared at me.
“We’re not going through that again, Frank.” I shook my head, my pulse racing. “No way—you hear me? No fucking way!”
“But …”
“No buts!” I screamed. Placing my hands on my head. “Are you for real? I’m still having fucking nightmares about Shane and pigs. I’ll never look at a piece of meat in the same way ever again. And what for, eh? Emily’s already deteriorating, and you want to do it all over again!”
“Look at the state of him, lass. He’s going to die anyway. We could take what we need first.”
“You’re off your fucking rocker, Frank.” I stared at him, unable to comprehend.
“Hector chose to do this to himself, and besides, he’d want us to save Emily. For all his faults, Hector loves her.”
“Course he would. Only not if it meant he had to die in the process.”
“We need to do this, lass. We owe it to Emily.”
“She’s dying, Frank. The sooner we accept that, the better. All we’ve done up to now, is prolong the inevitable. What will we do in another few months when Hector’s Proteum wears off? Kill someone else?”
“No, of course not,” he snapped. “But don’t you see? We’re not killing anybody. Hector’s done this to himself.”
“You’re mad! Absolutely stark staring bonkers.” I shook my head, astounded. “I need to call an ambulance. This man is dying.”
“Wait. Please, lass, think about it for a second. No one will expect him to come back here. He has no family or friends. Steph won’t want him after what he’s done. He’s taken an overdose and will probably die anyway. What if we can help Emily long enough for a cure to be found?”
“But it’s murder, Frank. Do you not see how wrong this is?” I hugged myself, shaking uncontrollably, my voice sounding garbled to my own ears.
“No. You’re wrong. It’s suicide. We’re just helping Emily at the same time.”
I began pacing the short distance between the bed and the doorway, confused. Frank’s words sounded so logical. Besides, this man could have killed my best friend tonight if he hadn’t been stopped. He knew he’d lost her for good now, which I presumed was why he took the overdose. He wouldn’t want to live without her. So it wouldn’t be murder. Would it? I couldn’t think straight. I needed some air.
I raced from the room heading for the stairs. As I passed Emily’s room, I noticed her door was slightly ajar. How she’d slept through all the commotion was beyond me. I reached for the handle, paused, then pushed the door a little wider.
