Cold Heart

by Sean-Paul Thomas

  “…But then Gayle. She should have been sleeping in bed, but she came down the bloody stairs didn’t she... She kept asking what we were doing—why we were sniffing the powder... Then she asked to try it too.”

  Estelle listened to every word, rooted to the spot like a cold statue.

  “She just kept asking and asking and fucking asking...” he continued, still trying to control his sobs.

  “So, you thought it would be a good idea to give my eleven-year-old sister some fucking drugs?”

  “It was just supposed to be a little bit of harmless fun. We were all so fucking wasted.”

  Suddenly her stepfather began laughing manically before sobbing out even harder.

  “And they both overdosed?” Estelle calmly stated, sounding unconvinced.

  “When your sister collapsed, your mother went hysterical. I couldn’t calm her down. She kept screaming and screaming and screaming—”

  Her stepfather stopped talking midsentence. But Estelle didn’t need him to finish off the rest. She could pretty much guess for herself.

  “So, you thought you’d try and make her stop screaming?”

  Her stepfather began slapping and scratching at his head, over and over until blood began to trickle down his face. Then he began rambling incoherently.

  “I can’t remember. Everything is such a blur. We were both so fucking wasted, Estelle. I think she wanted to call the police or an ambulance!” he chuckled madly “But look at the fucking place? It’s a fucking drug den. I can’t have the police here… No chance… Can you imagine? No… Need to clean the place up first…”

  Her stepfather bawled even harder. He bowed his head and placed his face hard into his hands. He started scratching then clawing at his face and skin again, drawing even more blood.

  Estelle took a deep breath. She turned around, quite unexpectedly, and slowly walked across the kitchen floor. She made her way towards a set of kitchen draws that underneath the far away sink. Only one thing was on her mind. She felt like a robot. Like someone else was controlling her in that hazy dream. Some higher force from way up above, or even down below. But she didn’t want it to stop making her do what she knew needed to be done. It had to be done. It shuddered through her like a basic human need and urge: to eat, to drink, to sleep, to piss, to fuck… To kill.

  She slid the draw open and pulled out the largest, sharpest knife she could find from within. She knew which knife it had to be and in what exact order it would be lying inside the drawer. Nobody cooked in this house. It was all cereal, microwave meals, and fucking greasy takeaways. The knife she held in her palm had been lying unused in that drawer for years. Still razor sharp from the day it was taken out of the packet.

  Estelle turned back to face her weeping stepfather. With the knife firmly held in her hand and at her side, she calmly approached him again. She walked right up to him. So much closer this time than before. Only an inch or two away from his feet did she stand.

  Feeling her presence hovering over him and baring down upon him, her stepfather raised his heavy weary head from his hands and gazed up at her with blurred, teary eyes. He gently glanced at the huge sharp knife resting at the side of her thigh. He chuckled nervously. He didn’t believe for one second that she had the balls to ever use it. Not on him. Not like this. Not in cold blood. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He wanted a better look. To see if he’d really just imagined the knife after all. He chuckled again.

  “What the hell are you going to do with that thing? Fucking stab me?”

  Without hesitating Estelle stabbed her stepfather over and over again in the neck, throat, and face. It was over in seconds. Blood splattered in every direction possible. His final wheezing gasps sounded absolutely horrific. Like a dying wheezing pig. When she’d finished stabbing him over thirty times in the face and neck he was long gone from the world of the living and completely unrecognizable to everyone left in it.

  Young Estelle jumped over the busy motorway barriers of the nearby M8 motorway. She looked like a zombie. Dead to the land of the living and emotionally ice-cold inside. She wandered right across the first few busy lanes and into the oncoming traffic without a care in the world.

  In that moment Estelle just wanted to die. Pure and simple. She’d loved her mother once upon a time, had even liked her as a person way back when. But the way she’d turned to drink then drugs after the death of her real father, killed in action thousands of miles away in the deserts of Afghanistan while on tour with the glorious British army… Estelle had lost all feeling and respect for her weak junkie mother. A mother who cared more about where her next fix was coming from than the state and welfare of her own children.

  Her stepfather, well, she was more than delighted to see him sent to an early grave. She would gladly kill the fucker again and a thousand times over too if it would bring back a better person from the afterlife, namely her sister. He was a horrible human being. A drunken, manipulative, gaslighting brute who, just as soon as he’d sunk his sick and twisted little claws deep inside her mother’s vulnerable and addictive personality, turned her into the most pathetic excuse of a human being and the complete and utter opposite to anything resembling a half-decent, kind, loving, and giving mother. A woman who was all about taking rather than giving in her final few years.

  But her sister. She was the final straw that broke the camel’s back and jaw. Estelle couldn’t go on in life knowing that her sister was no longer alive and kicking and grinning in the world. Gayle was the one good thing that she truly cared about even more than herself. She would gladly give up her own life, just lay down and die in the worst, sick, and excruciating painful way, just to have her sister still living and breathing with the chance to have some kind of proper and normal childhood upbringing.

  She’d never showed it before. Even while her father was still alive and there was some kind of normality to their family life. But she really did love her sister. With every fiber and every ounce of life left in her being. She fucking loved her and loved looking out for her.

  Once her father passed away and her mother became lost to humanity, Estelle found herself becoming, reluctantly at first, Gayle’s new kind of parent to an extent. She was the one who fed her, bathed her, helped her out with homework, and got her to school and after school clubs on time. Even though Estelle never stopped bitching about the responsibility of it all. But in truth, she had actually enjoyed the responsibility. And she would have done anything in that moment to get it all back.

  The pain was unbearable. The self-loathing too had never felt so bad. She didn’t want to live anymore. Period. Didn’t wish to live in a world without her beautiful, innocent, sweet little sister.

  Cars, lorries, buses, and vans, all frantically beeped their horns as most of them sped and swerved around the erratically wandering Estelle. But she didn’t flinch. Not one bit. She welcomed the sickening thud of thick hard steel smashing into her flesh and bone at one hundred miles per hour. She deliberately wandered around in circles too, hoping and praying for something to hit her hard and put her out of her fucking misery pronto.

  Then she sat down. Right in the middle of the oncoming traffic. She felt dizzy and tired with all the passing bright headlights. Dozens of vehicles slid and swerved, this way and that, just to avoid her sitting, cross legged figure at the very last second. Cars began smashing and colliding into other cars. Traffic in the distance began braking, then slowing and building up, cottoning on to something very bad happening way up ahead.

  Estelle remained seated exactly where she sat. Never flinching. Never blinking. Never backing down. She faced the never-ending onslaught of fast and furious vehicles like it was her absolute calling in life. Which was when the flashing blue lights emerged from the darkness and distracted her from her pain and turmoil. More cars than she could count lay broken and battered against the nearby motorway barriers and smashed into the back of so many other vehicles. The traffic began to grind to a complete halt way out in front
of her. Then the flashing blue lights grew closer. They were right up on the hard shoulder too, barging and navigating their way through the motorway obstacle course of steel rubble and carnage, gradually making their way towards her.

  Soon, two, three, then four police cars had all pulled up beside her. Estelle remained seated, unphased, uncaring. The nearest two police officers quickly dashed over to her. She didn’t even look up or acknowledge them in the slightest. She just kept staring dead ahead. Still dead inside to the world. Still praying for death and the pain to end.

  Both officers reached her at the exact same time. They yanked her up onto her feet and handcuffed her immediately without any consideration to how rough they were handling her. Estelle didn’t resist.

  At the nearby police station, Estelle sat alone and in a morbid silent state. She found herself inside a small dark interview room. A table, two chairs, and a glass of untouched water lay in front of her. Breaking the deathly grim silence, the door to the interview room burst open and a skinny, middle-aged police detective wearing the largest mustache Estelle had ever seen entered the room. He sat down directly opposite her. Estelle didn’t look at him though. She kept staring down at the water.

  “You know why you’re here, right?” said the smug, skinny detective.

  Estelle said nothing.

  “Why did you kill your mother and stepfather, Estelle?”

  Estelle remained deathly silent.

  “Well the good news is, your sister is still fighting for her life. They managed to pump her stomach and she’s breathing again. Perhaps not good news for you though.”

  Estelle glanced up at the detective and his ridiculous mustache for the very first time. She thought she’d misheard what the hell he’s just said or perhaps even imagined it.

  “Gayle’s alive?” Estelle quietly asked, her voice breaking while her eyes lit up. “Are you sure?”

  The detective smirked.

  “You seem surprised?”

  Suddenly her heart began racing. She’d never felt so excited about anything before in her whole damn life.

  “Can I see her? Please. I really need to see my sister, please?”

  The detective chuckled. Estelle was almost crying, almost in tears. She’d never cried in front of anyone before.

  “Absolutely not.” The detective bluntly replied…

  …Suddenly someone tapped her on the shoulder.

  Back in the Finnieston Wine Bar, Estelle was jolted right out of her deep day dream thoughts by another tap on her shoulder. She sharply turned around to face the culprit who dared touch her without even asking. Couldn’t they see she was just trying to enjoy a quiet drink? She half expected it to be the womanizing smug prick back for more. If that was the case then she’d ram his head through the nearest pint glass.

  But she felt surprised to see the young nerdy-looking student waitress frowning down at her instead. The one who had brought her the wine half an hour earlier.

  “Miss, please. There’s no smoking in here. Could you please put it out?”

  Estelle glanced down at her burning cigarette. She’d hardly smoked a single bit of it and it was almost burnt down to the filter.

  Estelle said nothing. She didn’t even apologize. She just took one last strong draw while staring the young waitress dead in the eyes before slowly stubbing it out on top of her sister’s urn. She then casually placed the cigarette stub into the empty wine glass before standing to her feet, grabbing a hold of her sister and leaving the wine bar.

  Chapter 13

  Estelle lay fully clothed on top of the covers of her hotel bed. She was watching a secret live camera footage on her iPhone of her husband John and her daughter Clara cuddled up on the sofa back home together, watching a movie.

  Neither of them had any inclination that Estelle had installed secret cameras all over the inside and outside of their house. But it was more for her own comfort and security than theirs. She loved her daughter very much with what little selfless love remained inside her body and still trudged through her veins. And knowing that she could see her, look at her, keep an eye on her all through the touch of a button, gave her that soothing feeling of safety and comfort whenever she was away from her for long periods of time.

  Suddenly her phone began to ring. It was a private number but she knew immediately who it was without even thinking about it. Nathan. Her boss. The man who gave Estelle her missions and debriefed her once they were complete. A man she’d never actually seen with her own two eyes before but only ever heard his deep, brooding, clear English voice.

  Estelle answered her phone on the third ring but didn’t talk into the speaker right away.

  “Hello Estelle.” Nathan said in that calm but firm voice of his. Estelle hesitated a second longer before finally answering.

  “Hello, sir.”

  “I always knew we should have changed your name when we first took you in. But you were always so insistent about keeping just one thing from your past…”

  Estelle remained silent on hearing his words. He’d never spoken to her like that before. So personal and with a somewhat intimate humor. They’d never chatted about her past either. Not ever. And she felt a little confused and thrown off by this new tactful manner. She wondered where he was going with the conversation.

  “So, what’s the Glaswegian weather like up there in Bonnie old Scotland this evening, Estelle?”

  Estelle took a breath, but too quiet for Nathan to hear on the other end of the line. He knew she was in Scotland? She’d altered the tracking device on her phone before she’d left. On all of her phones for that matter, and linked them up to another device hidden underneath her cottage.

  She’d done it before when she’d wandered off grid for a few days. Always thinking that she was one step ahead of her employers. But now, she began to wander if she indeed ever had been ahead of them. Had they always known? She guessed they most probably had. So, she decided to come clean.

  “How did you know, sir?”

  She heard Nathan chuckle ever so slightly down the phone. He didn’t seem upset or angered in the slightest though. In fact, she’d never heard him get upset or even raise his voice at anyone before. Usually things that annoyed him simply just… disappeared. Even when a mission had gone utterly tits up and turned completely on its head. And she’d had a few of them in her early years. He’d always remained pleasantly calm.

  “Remember who you work for here, Estelle?”

  She could feel him smirking down the phone at her now.

  “Did you know about my sister, sir?” Estelle finally asked. Feeling a slight sense of relief to get the burning grievance off her chest.

  “We did. Yes.”

  “Were you planning on telling me?”

  “You didn’t need the distraction on such a delicate operation. But I knew you’d find out eventually. And I knew you’d take a little time to sort things on your end.”

  Nathan paused. Letting his words linger in the tense air. Estelle continued to listen down the phone. She didn’t want to be the one to break the silence first. And she was glad when Nathan finally cleared his throat and continued to speak.

  “So, you’ll be returning home tomorrow morning then?”

  Estelle hesitated again, for a lot longer this time. A few hours ago, she felt sure that she would return home tomorrow morning or evening at the latest. No questions asked. Now… she still had a lot of unanswered questions swirling around inside her messed up mind. She wanted to at least track down this strange and unconvincing witness that had seen her sister go into a cold and dirty river of her own free will. She wanted to look this person in the eye. And only then would she know if it was all just a lie or some kind of misunderstanding.

  She needed help with finding that witness, though. And fortunately for her she knew someone off grid who she could ask that help from. But it wasn’t Nathan.

  “…well Estelle?” Nathan said, breaking the silence and her new train of thought.

 
“…I don’t know, sir. Some things... they just don’t add up here, you know? I think… I think I need some more time, sir.”

  She heard Nathan sigh. She’d never heard him do that either. He sounded almost disappointed in her.

  “You realize that you aren’t supposed to exist, Estelle. When we took you in all those years ago, you knew the choices you were making. You knew the changes that you’d have to undertake to your life. The lives of your remaining family.”

  “Yes, sir. I know.”

  “And now the Glasgow police are doing background checks on you as we speak. Searching for a ghost in their database files that they’re never going to find. You’re beginning to stir up a right little hornet’s nest there. And we really don’t need the attention, Estelle. I don’t have to tell you that. There’s only so much we can clean up ourselves and make disappear.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “Not to worry. They will find absolutely nothing at the moment. But still, you can’t stay there any longer. You have to come back with immediate effect.”

  Estelle was about to speak. She was about to agree with Nathan—apologize and agree to do exactly what he’d suggested. It’s what she’d been trained to do after all. Perhaps she could take time out some other day, some other time down the line. A few months maybe. Even a year from then. To hunt down the people responsible for her sister’s demise.

  But then something caught her eye from the corner shadows of her room.

  She did a double take. Emerging out of the darkness to appear at the bottom of her bed was the silent pale figure of one sad, lonely-looking little girl. Estelle had never felt so shocked and frightened at the same time before in her entire life. It took her a few moments to recover her lost composure.

  The fragile little figure was that of her sister Gayle. She stood ghastly pale and waif-like at the bottom of her bed. But in the image of that eleven-year-old girl from the last time she’d seen her, so many years ago. Before she’d lost her. Before she’d abandoned her to the system. Believing that she was giving her a better life. A better chance at happiness. Something that Estelle strongly convinced herself at the time that she could never ever give her if she stayed in her life to take care of her.