Twenty Years a Stranger (The Stranger Series Book 1)

by Deborah Twelves

  ‘We don’t have to be conventional. If you hadn’t told all our friends and your family about it…well, I’m sure we could have worked things out between us.’

  Then the best bit, the icing on the cake:

  ‘I really want you to consider something. I’ve hired a lodge for a week in the summer, up in Scotland near Pitlochry. I want the children to meet each other. There are three bedrooms: one for Anita and Tara, one for Jane and Aaron and there’s a spare one for you and me if you’ll come with me.’

  I felt as if I was actually going crazy. Did he really just present that to me as a reasonable suggestion? Did he plan to bed hop his way around us all, making sure we each got a fair turn with him? Who the hell did he think he was?

  I came to the conclusion that Adam was right. Daniel was not of sound mind and was, in fact, displaying all the traits of a full-blown psychopath.

  I listened for him snoring, my signal to move. I slipped on the leggings and black hoodie I had bought for my covert operations in Stainsford, pulled on my trainers, headed out of the kitchen and up the stone steps to the car park. The security light immediately flooded the whole area with light, illuminating me and everything else around with alarming clarity. I felt a frisson of fear as I lost the cover of darkness, but reminded myself that the car park was on the opposite side of the house to the bedroom and besides, there was no way Daniel was going to be waking up from his drug-induced coma any time soon.

  First things first. I lay on my back at right angles to the car, with my head by the passenger door. I shuffled back underneath, commando-style, and felt above my head for the metal U-shaped section running across the chassis. I wiggled the little black box out of its position and squeezed it over the top of the metal bar, just as I had been shown, replacing it with its fully charged twin which I carefully secured with a cable tie. I thought again how good a fit it was, practically made for the purpose. I wriggled out from under the car, stood up and stretched, feeling pleased with myself. It had been surprisingly easy. Now for the interesting bit.

  I pulled on my latex gloves, staple equipment for the amateur PI I had become, and opened the car, making a beeline for the briefcase. I had watched enough crime TV and learned enough over the past few weeks to know I had to be careful to leave no fingerprints and to make sure everything was left just as I had found it so that Daniel did not suspect I had been there, or if he did, he couldn’t prove it. The first thing I came across was his passport and I had to fight my initial impulse to steal it and cut it up into little pieces.

  - That would scupper his next trip to see that bitch and his daughter in America.

  No. I was quickly learning the value of self-control and keeping my powder dry. My cool, calm Investigator head took over and I refrained from doing that, proud of my restraint. Destroying his passport would simply alert him to my nocturnal antics and would ultimately serve no useful purpose, other than to annoy him in the short term.

  I continued sifting through the papers and had my first breakthrough: the file for the Ferrari I knew he had bought and imported from America. The one he was trying to make out belonged to The Whale of Willowmede, aka Jane Sutcliffe, mother of child number two.

  The second find of not insignificant interest was the insurance schedule for all of his cars and bikes, stating their value and clearly showing Daniel personally as the owner. I couldn’t resist getting comfortable in the back seat for a few minutes and looking down the list:

  There it was! The Ferrari, insured and owned by Daniel M J Callaghan. Finally, I was getting somewhere. More vital pieces of the jigsaw. I briefly considered trying to copy the documents but, in the end, I just couldn’t be bothered and settled for the easier route of simply taking them.

  What’s his is mine and all that - I thought bitterly.

  He would, of course, notice they were missing, but I was banking on the fact that he was by now so confused and muddled with all his shenanigans and stories that he would simply believe he put them somewhere else or misplaced them.

  Or maybe Lorraine has stolen them - I said to myself with a little snort of laughter, as I remembered the fraudulent email incident she had been blamed for.

  I left the briefcase exactly as it was, except for the two missing items of course and moved on to the boot. I took my time and had a good snoop around, looking in particular for the ten thousand euros emergency stash he once told me he always left in the car. No luck on that score unfortunately, but on the whole I was pretty happy with my booty and decided to settle at that for the first night, confident that there would be many more opportunities now I knew what I was doing.

  I locked the car and crept back into the house, securing myself in the bedroom with the chair under the door handle. I could hear him snoring loudly.

  - Still alive then.

  I set the alarm for 5.30 am. Daniel was not an early riser, especially after what I had given him to drink, but I needed to be on the ball and ready to get the keys back in place among the boxer shorts at the back of the drawer as soon as I heard him go into the bathroom.

  I felt strangely elated and powerful in the knowledge that I was finally taking back control of my life.

  My dad would be proud of me.

  My final thought as I drifted into a fitful sleep was that perhaps it was Daniel who should be worrying about what I was really capable of, rather than the other way round.

  The fear

  There are two options when confronted with fear: forget everything and run or rise up and face it. You always have a choice.

  Grace

  I heard the crack of a twig somewhere behind me and instinctively quickened my pace, suddenly fearful. Someone was there. I knew it, despite trying to convince myself otherwise. I cursed my own stupidity and wondered what on earth had possessed me to walk Lola down the secluded, tree-lined, bridle path in the dark. It was a route I took most days and, to be fair, the light was only just beginning to fade when I set off but there was no moon that night and, after half an hour, it was difficult to make out anything beyond my immediate surroundings. Lola stopped to sniff something and then turned to look back down the path, her ears pricked and her tail wagging. I tugged on her lead and she reluctantly came with me. I broke into a slow jog, my heart thumping hard in my chest, but Lola was having none of it. She stopped again and tried to pull me back the way we had just come. I strained my eyes, trying to make out anything at all, but to no avail.

  Without warning, the shape of a large man loomed out of the darkness. I was startled and opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. I took a step backwards as he moved towards me and I prepared to turn and run away as fast as I could, but as I did so my foot caught on a raised tree root at the edge of the path, causing me to stumble and fall amongst the damp leaves and thorns in the undergrowth. My fingers scrabbled desperately for something I could use as a weapon, but I found nothing.

  I could not see his face, but there was no doubt in my mind that it was my husband. Panic and fear shot through my body like an electric shock and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth where I had bitten my lip as I fell. Still I could not scream.

  Oh God, he knows I know - was my first thought - He will kill me for this, I know he will. Nobody knows I’m out here. How could I have been so stupid?

  I tried desperately to scramble to my feet, but I was too late. He was already upon me and shoved me so hard in the chest with the heel of his hand that I fell straight back to the ground. I shuffled backwards as quickly as I could in an attempt to get away from him, but he laughed quietly and moved with me, clearly enjoying the game, like a cat playing with its prey. I could smell his sour breath on my face as he leaned closer and, although it was impossible to make out his features, I knew it was him. He spoke quietly, his tone menacing.

  ‘What the hell did you think you were doing, snooping around in my private affairs? Did you really think I didn’t know what you were up to? You’re even dumber than I thought,’ he sneered. ‘Did you
honestly think you were going to get away with your stupid little games, trying to ruin my life? Believe me; you have no idea who you’re messing with. You never could just do as you were told, could you? You’re pathetic. Exactly like Julia.’

  I searched in desperation for a way to escape, but I was helpless, my arm pinned to the floor by his boot. I considered pleading for my life but knew instantly there was no point. He had no conscience, no empathy for his fellow human beings, especially not me. I watched in silent terror as he raised one arm high in the air and noticed he was holding something long and thick, cylinder-shaped, in his hand. Maybe a torch? A baseball bat? I instinctively threw my free arm across my face and brought my knees up to my chest in an attempt to protect the most vulnerable areas of my body.

  I tensed every muscle, waiting for the blow, but there was nothing.

  No pain. No noise.

  I moved my arm away from my eyes and stared into the darkness, straining to see what lay beyond.

  Gradually I began to make out the shapes as my eyes adjusted. My brain fought to make sense of what I was seeing as the random objects slowly drifted into focus.

  A chest of drawers.

  A dining chair tipped backwards by a door.

  I sat up abruptly in bed, my brain finally allowing me to understand that I was in my own bedroom. Safe in my own house. I listened to the rhythmic snoring from upstairs and felt a surge of relief. The man upstairs, at least while he was in his drugged stupor, was a far cry from the monster my nightmares had given life to.

  None of it had been real, except the fear. The fear was very real indeed. My hair was stuck to my neck with sweat and my hands were clammy. My heart was still beating far too fast. I realised that, no matter how brave I tried to appear on the outside, I was actually terrified of Daniel and what he might do.

  I looked at my phone, 4.15 am. I lay awake, waiting for sounds of movement as he got up so that I could get his keys back to where he had left them in the drawer, praying he had not already noticed they were missing. I made the decision there and then that I could not carry on with the elaborate charade anymore. It was time to stop the games before they destroyed me. I was worried that Daniel was the one playing me rather than the other way around and I knew I needed to put distance between us again.

  No more overnight visits or ‘friendly’ chats. If we carried on, at least one of us was going to end up dead and I was beginning to think the odds were not in my favour.

  Fate was on my side for once and I was offered a helping hand the next day in the shape of Tom, Adam’s mechanic friend, the one who had educated me in the art of tracker fitting. All that seemed a lifetime ago already. I had met him several times in the hotel and was not surprised to see him in the bar when I went up there for a drink that evening. Tom was tall, good looking and charismatic and, as he came over and kissed me on the cheek, I felt a guilty little twinge of sadness that he was happily married.

  ‘How’s it going Ace Ventura?’ he teased.

  I laughed, loving my new nickname and impressed by the fact that everyone seemed to see me as some kind of Lara Croft heroine. I knew Tom was up to speed with most of what was happening in my world, courtesy of Adam.

  ‘Okay I guess, but I must admit I’m getting a bit fed up with having to meet up with Daniel and pretend I actually like him. You should hear some of the shit that comes out of his mouth. It’s really freaking me out now, having to sleep under the same roof as him, even if it is only once a week. The more I learn about him, the more nervous I get and I’m definitely beginning to think Adam might have a point about him being a psycho.’

  ‘Well, I have come here tonight on my white horse in answer to all your problems,’ Tom

  said, pausing for dramatic effect.

  ‘Really?’

  I was not convinced.

  ‘Seriously, I’ve got an idea. Adam tells me you managed to get into Daniel’s car. If you can get me his keys for an hour or so, I can hardwire the tracker in for you. That means it would work off the car battery, so it would never run out and there would be no need for all the nonsense of changing it over every week.’

  ‘Oh my God, that would be amazing! But what if he found out about it? Wouldn’t you get into trouble?’

  ‘Well, I’m assuming I can trust you and you’re not going to tell anyone I put it there, so how am I going to get into trouble? No one could ever prove anything and besides, the thing will be buried so deep in the bowels of the car, it’ll never be found. Trust me, it’s no big deal. I’ll be happy to help make sure that bastard gets what’s coming to him. I never liked him.’

  Once again I marvelled at the generosity of so many people and their willingness to help me. I was also beginning to realise just how many people disliked Daniel and had only tolerated him for my sake.

  I supposed what it really came down to was the age-old battle between Good and Evil. People were choosing to stand with me because they ultimately wanted to see Good triumph over Evil. I allowed myself to feel optimistic again.

  ‘When could we do it then?’ I asked eagerly.

  ‘Name the day. Any evening next week is good for me. I’ll wait up at the hotel and come over to you as soon as you text to give me the all clear.’

  Of course it meant one more sleepover for Daniel, but I could handle that. It was different now. The end was in sight.

  And so, a week later, Daniel was unwittingly doped up once again and sleeping like a baby on the top floor, oblivious to the feverish activity going on in the car park. Tom worked his magic as promised. It took him a little over an hour to do it, while I stood guard, just in case. When he had finished, I hugged him, unable to hide my excitement.

  ‘Thank you so much again for doing this. You have no idea how much this means to me. I owe you big time.’

  ‘Just buy me a beer next time we’re in the bar,’ he laughed.

  ‘Deal.’

  With that, he disappeared down the drive and I went back into the house, creeping up the stairs and barricading myself in the bedroom as usual. I held my breath and listened for any sign of movement upstairs, but there was nothing, except the loud snoring that had grated on me and deprived me of sleep for so many years.

  Not anymore - I thought to myself happily.

  The following morning, I could hardly contain myself when Daniel came downstairs into the kitchen, looking decidedly groggy and rubbing his hands across his face.

  ‘Daniel, I need to tell you something,’ I began, determinedly. ‘I’ve thought long and hard about everything and I’ve decided there’s simply no way I can ever come to terms with what you’ve done. I’m definitely going ahead with the divorce and so I don’t want you around here anymore.’

  I was delighted to see the shock on his face as I calmly delivered the death blow.

  ‘Whoa…what? What’s changed all of a sudden?’ he asked, bewildered.

  ‘Nothing really. I’ve just come to my senses. Basically, I can’t believe a word you say and I know you’re not being straight with me. You’re totally refusing to sign anything over to me, and yet you’re happy to put things in that fat, bush-pig Jane’s name,’ I said, deciding to let rip with my true feelings. ‘You’re also lying about who owns the cars and bikes. I know for a fact they’re all yours.’

  ‘Where the hell did this come from since last night? I thought we were getting on better, possibly even planning a future together…Grace, I’m not lying, I promise you. I can’t sign the cars over to you because they don’t belong to me,’ he lied. ‘I don’t want you to come out of this badly, I really don’t,’ he lied again. ‘I’m trying to help you. You just need to do what I tell you and stop messing around because this is getting serious. We need to do a deal that will work for both of us and we need to stick to it, not go changing our minds every five minutes. If I’m made bankrupt, we’ll lose the house but they can’t take it if you’re living here because you have rights to the marital home. I’m happy for you to stay in the house for another th
ree to five years and I promise after that I should be able to pay you a decent settlement. Who knows, maybe by then we’ll have decided to stay together after all. I’ll obviously need to live here as well, but we can have separate rooms if you prefer.’

  He was prattling and beginning to sound desperate, but this time I was having none of it.

  ‘You’re happy for me to stay in the house? Nice,’ I said, sarcastically. ‘Well, let me explain something to you. My solicitor says I’ll get to keep the house, all to myself, or else you will have to buy me out. So I don’t actually need your permission for anything. Do you honestly think I’m going to live under the same roof as you and wait five years before I get any money out of you? There’s no way on this earth I’m staying with you. Hell will freeze over first,’ I spat, contemptuously.

  ‘Well, you’re really showing your true colours now, aren’t you? What happened to all that stuff about wanting to find a way through this? What about not wanting to throw away everything we had together?’

  ‘Don’t even go there! You have no right to act like the victim here. You are the one who threw everything away the day you slept with the first of your ugly, fat slappers behind my back.’

  The sudden look of menace on his face made me shudder and I deftly moved to within reach of the kitchen knives, as he took a step towards me and spoke in a low growl.

  ‘You really are as hard as nails, aren’t you? You conniving, manipulative, little bitch. You’ve been lying all along. Go ahead and take this to court then, but I’m telling you now, you’ll come out of it with nothing, same as the taxman. I’ve tried to help you, but you seem to be on some kind of self-destruct course, egged on by that cow of a solicitor you’ve hooked up with.’

  ‘Oh, just piss off and leave me alone. You don’t scare me,’ I lied, determined to tough it out. ‘I’ll see you in court. Oh, and from now on you can deal directly with my solicitor for everything.’