Girl A

by Dan Scottow

  Hurt her.

  Worse.

  She closed her eyes, trying to shake the thought away. Wendy’s hatred was nothing compared to the revelation about Mikey. Beth had avoided looking into the Noakes family. She hadn’t wanted to know how those events had damaged them. Ruined them. She suffered enough guilt without reading about their pain. So she simply didn’t look.

  Ignorance is bliss.

  Her phone vibrated in her handbag. She pulled it out.

  ‘Peter, hi, now’s not a good time, I–’

  ‘Why did you have Zoe’s scarf?’

  Beth was taken aback by the venom in her son’s voice.

  ‘She must have left it at the house.’

  ‘Bullshit.’

  ‘Peter, what’s wrong?’

  ‘Zoe is missing. I thought she was away on a field trip. But she’s not. Her parents don’t know where she is. She messaged her mum and told her she was staying at a mate’s house the night before because it was an early start. She also texted her friends saying she had glandular fever and couldn’t make it. Someone has been in contact with her parents the whole time she was supposed to be away. Her mum didn’t even realise until today that anything was wrong. Someone’s been using her phone so nobody knew.’

  Beth felt bile rise up in her throat. She knew he would find out eventually, but she wasn’t prepared.

  ‘Peter, I’m sorry, that’s… awful. Why don’t we meet to talk? I’m driving back from… a work thing. I’ll be a few hours, but I can pick you up later.’

  ‘No. You were acting really weird when I told you that scarf was hers. You had this look on your face. I knew something was off at the time.’

  ‘Peter, I can’t do this now.’

  ‘Do what? Mum! What the hell is going on? I swear to you, if anything has happened to her, I will never forgive you.’

  The line went dead. Beth stared at her phone. A few weeks earlier, she would have told anyone she had the perfect life. She hoped she had finally left the past behind her. It had taken a long time, and yes, perhaps she might not ever be completely free from what happened, but she had settled somewhere. She had a husband. A family.

  She was content.

  Her father had told her many years ago that she would never be happy; she didn’t deserve it. As much as it hurt her to admit, she believed he was right. But she didn’t have time to think about her father now. How would she explain this? What would she say?

  As soon as she confessed that she had seen Zoe’s body in the stable that night, her relationship with her son would be over. She thought of Peter, four years old, learning to swim. Smiling at her from the pool as he splashed about, bright orange armbands flailing.

  She pictured the red BMX he had asked for one Christmas when he was small. The sheer joy on his face as he tore the wrapping paper away.

  He had been such a beautiful child. She had spent many years worrying something would happen to him. That somebody would find out who she was and hurt him to get at her.

  It was crazy, she realised eventually. And as time went by, she relaxed. She never completely let her guard down. She was always vigilant. But she softened. She learned to enjoy her children.

  Yes, Peter could be a surly, antisocial teenager at times. But he was her surly, antisocial teenager.

  She had worked so hard to make sure she didn’t lose him.

  Now she feared their relationship would be irreparably damaged, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Michael Noakes had found her. He had tricked her. And he had targeted her family.

  She shuddered as she remembered kissing him. How could she have been so stupid? All her usual barriers were down. She got drunk, and she allowed herself to be taken in by his good looks and charm. His compliments. Beth had been foolish. It wouldn’t happen again. As she sat pondering Michael Noakes, she tried to look at things from his perspective.

  A heinous act had torn his family apart. An event that he clearly blamed Beth for, or held her jointly responsible for at least.

  She imagined how Peter would react if somebody hurt Daisy. Would he hunt them down? Spend his entire life searching? Would she condone it?

  Beth suddenly thought of the person who had facilitated all this. The person who had recognised her. The individual who all of these events had started with. She felt a terrible anger boiling up inside her. A rage like she had not experienced in decades surged through her. Clenching her fists, she hadn’t felt this way since… her father.

  She knew what she had to do. She had to find Vicky.

  50

  The rain ran down the outside of the office window, although rain was an overstatement. It was that drizzly spatter that was colder, more irritating than a heavy downpour. Vicky Kershaw checked her watch.

  Five minutes until she clocked off for the day. Great.

  She had come into work without a jacket. The September sun had been pleasant enough that morning. She shut down her computer and pulled her phone out, tapping out a text message to Mikey.

  Any developments with KB?

  Smiling to herself, she slipped it back into her pocket. She’d been after Mikey for a long time, since she saw him give a talk at her uni. She hoped that this would seal the deal. He owed her for this. She had gone above and beyond. She almost felt sorry for Beth, or Kitty, or whatever she was supposed to call her. But then she remembered what she’d done.

  The pain she had caused. The evil crime she had committed.

  And got away with.

  Vicky waited a few minutes to see if the rain abated, but when it became apparent that it was here to stay, she decided to take her chances.

  She grabbed her bag and walked the length of the building to the exit, waving at various people on her way, saying goodnight.

  As she glanced at Beth’s empty office, she saw the tall woman with dyed auburn hair, from legal, slipping out of the door. Vicky waved, receiving a death stare in return.

  She was odd, that one. Vicky shrugged, continuing her exit. She stood in the alley, the drizzle splashing into her face. She blinked, holding her bag above her, making a dash for it.

  Footsteps behind her caused her to turn abruptly. Nobody there.

  She shook her head and half ran, half walked towards the multi-storey. She climbed the stairs to the top level, and once again found herself battling the elements. As she reached her car, she fumbled for her keys in her bag, dropping them as she pulled them out.

  ‘Shit,’ she muttered as she crouched down to retrieve them from the puddle they had landed in.

  She shook them off, straightening up. The rush of footsteps from behind came too fast. She didn’t have time to react. A sudden shove in the small of her back knocked her off balance. She tumbled forwards, banging her temple on the driver’s side window with a horrendous thud, dropping the keys again.

  Before she could regain her composure, a hand grabbed her arm, twisting it painfully behind her. In one lightning-fast manoeuvre she was pinned against her car.

  ‘What the–’

  ‘Shut up,’ someone hissed in her ear. ‘I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen, and then you’re going to answer my questions. Got it?’

  Vicky recognised the voice. Beth Carter.

  ‘Get off me you psycho!’

  Beth twisted Vicky’s arm higher up her back. A searing pain shot through her shoulder.

  ‘Don’t push me. I’ve lost my job. My family. I haven’t got anything left to lose. Do you understand?’

  Vicky nodded.

  ‘Tell me about Michael Noakes.’

  Vicky laughed.

  Beth grabbed Vicky’s hair, screwing it up in her hand.

  She winced, letting out a slight whimper.

  ‘I’m guessing you didn’t go to school with him like he told me?’

  ‘No. I met him when I was at uni. I wrote my dissertation on the Billy Noakes case, and I interviewed him and his mother a few times. I knew he was… keen to find you. We exchanged detail
s and kept in touch. I studied that case in great detail. Spent hours staring at your face. I knew who you were as soon as I saw you, so I called him but he didn’t seem surprised. I got the impression he already knew. He asked if I could introduce you.’

  ‘And you brought him along to Chloe’s birthday drinks like a good little puppy.’

  ‘Yeah. You should have seen your face. Thought all your Christmases had come at once.’

  Beth twisted Vicky’s wet hair tighter in her hand.

  ‘What does he want?’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Why is he here? Does he want to hurt me? My family?’

  ‘I don’t know. I guess he wants to make you suffer. Make you pay. It’s no more than you deserve.’

  ‘I didn’t do anything. I’m innocent!’ Beth spat into her ear. Vicky sniggered sarcastically.

  Beth shoved Vicky’s head, banging it against the car window again.

  ‘You keep telling yourself that, love,’ she snarled, writhing under Beth’s weight.

  Blood mixed with the rain running down Vicky’s face, dripping down her front.

  ‘Why would you do this to me? What have I ever done to you?’ Beth pleaded.

  She let go of Vicky’s arm. Vicky turned and slid down the car until she was sitting on the soaking concrete. Beth crouched, so she was looking directly at her.

  ‘To me?’ Vicky shrugged. ‘Nothing. But you got away with what you did to that little boy. You never had to pay.’

  ‘You think I haven’t paid for my part in that? You think I don’t suffer every damn day of my life?’

  Vicky smirked, spitting blood out onto the floor.

  ‘Do I think you’ve suffered? No. I don’t. Not nearly enough. You have your perfect husband, your beautiful family, lovely big house in the country. Tell me, Kitty, what is so terrible about your life?’

  ‘Nobody knows what I have to endure. It took me a long time to get to where I am mentally.’

  ‘Oh boo-fucking-hoo. At least you’re alive! You had the chance to live a life. Billy Noakes never got that luxury.’

  ‘I’m not going to justify myself to you. I don’t have to. What involvement have you had with all the crap that’s been happening to us? Did he have you delivering the notes? Scratching our car? How much of it was you?’

  Vicky frowned.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The notes. To our house. To Charlie’s work. Sneaking into my house and taking photos of me in the bath! Did you kill my dog? And what about my son’s girlfriend? Who did that?’

  ‘You really are crazy, aren’t you? I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Stop lying!’ Beth slapped Vicky in the face as hard as she could. Vicky looked defiant as she licked blood from her split bottom lip.

  ‘As far as I knew he was only going to mess with you. Seduce you, then tell your husband. Send him photos of the two of you in the sack or something. I don’t know anything about notes. He clearly has his own agenda. He doesn’t report to me.’

  Beth straightened up.

  ‘How can I find him?’

  Vicky looked confused for a moment.

  ‘Michael Noakes. Where is he?’

  Vicky stared at Beth, smirking. Beth crouched down again. Taking the sides of Vicky’s head in her hands, she gripped her hair, balling it tight into her fists.

  Vicky winced again.

  ‘I won’t ask again. If you believe that I’m so guilty, do you really want to take the chance of pissing me off? If you think I’m capable of… that.’

  Terror flashed in Vicky’s eyes.

  ‘He’s staying in a flat down on Broad Street in town, near the gay strip. Yellow front door. I’ve not been inside, but that’s where he is.’

  Beth let go of Vicky’s hair, standing up. She looked down at her, damp, huddled against the car, like a pathetic, wounded creature. She resisted the overwhelming urge to kick her in the ribs.

  ‘You will never understand what you have done. What you have destroyed. I hope you’re happy.’

  ‘He’d already found you. I sped up the part where he got to meet you, that’s all. You can’t blame me for any of this. You brought it all on yourself. You’re finally getting what you deserve.’

  There was no way Michael could have found her. She’d been so careful. More bullshit, probably to ease her own conscience over all this.

  Beth turned and walked away, leaving Vicky to lick her wounds.

  51

  Beth sat in her Range Rover, parked down one end of the street. She stared at the sunshine-yellow front door. Bin bags piled up outside. Broken glass on the pavement. This was not what she expected.

  Nothing could be less aligned with the handsome, well-groomed, charming man she had spent time with. She shook her head, pulling her phone from her pocket and typed out a quick message to Mikey.

  Let’s meet. My house. ASAP. x

  A few seconds later a reply appeared on Beth’s screen.

  Ok! On my way x

  She smiled, sliding her mobile away. A few minutes later, Mikey emerged from the front door. He pulled it shut behind him, locking it. Glancing at the broken glass outside his door, he kicked it towards the road sending it rattling across the pavement. He hurried away, disappearing around the corner. She waited a few minutes to make sure he didn’t return. Climbing out of her car, she glanced nervously about for a traffic warden. With nobody in sight, she risked it.

  Michael Noakes was heading to her house in Falmer. A good thirty-minute drive each way from town. That gave her at least an hour. Beth approached the flat. She pushed the handle, thinking it was worth a try. It didn’t budge. A sign on the door said basement flat. A black door to the left, had a notice which said upper flat.

  She scoured the front of the building. To the right of the steps leading up to the doors was a drop to the lower part of the property. Below her, beneath some railings, an open basement window attracted her attention.

  Silly boy, she thought.

  She looked around again. A few punters stood smoking outside a pub at the other end of the street. They were deep in conversation and hadn’t seemed to notice her.

  Apart from that, the road was deserted. No pedestrians. No nosey neighbours. She took the chance. She heaved herself up over the black, cast-iron railings, then lowered herself down into the chasm, dropping onto the damp concrete below. With one last look up over her shoulder into the street above her, she slid the sash wide open, climbing inside. She had to push her way through some tatty curtains, drawn closed.

  The room was pitch black.

  She opened the curtains a crack, just enough to let in a little light. The place reeked of stale sweat and cigarettes. As her eyes grew more accustomed, she took in her surroundings. Seeing a switch on the wall opposite her, she flicked it on, filling the space in bright light.

  Discarded beer bottles littered the floor beside an unmade bed. A bare duvet sat crumpled at the end of the mattress, which had no sheet on it. Spotted with yellow stains.

  On a small side table sat a dog-eared photo of Wendy Noakes, with her husband, and Billy, on a beach somewhere. Billy was younger than when Beth had… found him.

  A normal, carefree family. A family that Michael Noakes had never known. Beth felt a pang of sadness for him. Then she remembered what he had done to her and sympathy turned to rage.

  In the photo, Wendy threw her head back in laughter. She was beautiful. Happy.

  Doug Noakes ruffled Billy’s hair, staring down at him adoringly. Billy licked a Mr Whippy, splodges of ice cream all over his face. All three of them oblivious to the horror that lay ahead of them. Beth screwed her eyes up tight and shook away the dark thoughts that crept into her mind.

  That was another life. That was not her.

  She stepped out of the bedroom into a narrow hallway. The light spilled out, illuminating the laminated floor. At one end of the corridor was a spiral staircase. Daylight fell from upstairs, spilling into a mottled pattern of
shadows across the walls.

  She climbed the steps, her feet clunking on metal, blinking as the change in light dazzled her.

  She found herself standing in a small dual-aspect kitchen which doubled up as a sitting room. The room ran the entire width of the property. One enormous bay window to the left of the front door looked out to the street, with privacy from a voile. The back end was entirely taken up by floor-to-ceiling glass, with bi-fold doors leading out to a tiny enclosed courtyard. A solitary deckchair sat in the centre of the yard, an overflowing ashtray beside it.

  The kitchen was mostly pristine. Takeaway containers littered the worktop, but the appliances were unused. Mikey wasn’t one for cooking, it would appear. In fact, it didn’t look like he was one for anything. There was nothing in the room. Only a chair and a small table. No papers. No books. No handwritten evil plan. Beth didn’t know what she’d expected to find, but it wasn’t… this.

  She sidestepped some containers on the floor, heading towards a door in the opposite wall. She reached for the handle, opening it. Stepping into the darkness, she pushed the door open further to allow more light inside. She flicked a switch beside her; bright white light flooded down from a fluorescent tube above her. She saw now it wasn’t a room at all. It was more like a cupboard.

  Beth took in a sharp breath, as a feeling of horror washed over her. An old wooden chair sat in the middle, facing the back wall. But this wasn’t what alarmed Beth. The wall beyond it was covered with newspaper clippings. Hand-scrawled, angry notes. Photographs.

  Photographs of Beth.

  Of women who looked like Beth, question marks scribbled beside them, and names crossed out. Pictures of Charlie, Peter and Daisy. Cooper. Their house. Every single aspect of Beth’s life. Her Range Rover, her office.

  Beth stepped closer to the wall, surveying the documentation of her life, playing out in front of her like a macabre comic strip. One photo showed her collecting Daisy from school, crouching down to envelope her in a hug. In another, the family were walking the dog in the field behind their house. Taken with a telephoto lens. Beth bit her lip as she tried to figure out where the person would have been standing. She concluded it had been snapped from the farm track at the end of the field.