Run, Darling

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Run, Darling Page 7

by Nicola Tee


  “After the surprising and unwanted heart-to-heart with Jay, I felt I needed to keep my distance a bit as I was worried he was becoming too attached to me. I started to sit on the other side of the lake to him and told him it was because I wanted to see if it improved my catch. I was obviously telling a fib, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. The problem was I had fished that side of the lake before and it was a terrible spot, Jay had the best spot. Then I did something silly and completely crossed the line, the line I enforced so our friendship boundaries were clearly laid out. You wouldn't believe that my crossing the line started a series of terrible events.”

  “What do you mean?” quizzes Mr. Detective.

  “One afternoon Jay packed up his fishing gear and waved goodbye across the lake to me. I decided to pinch his spot as I had yet to catch anything. Just as I settled myself on his side of the lake I realised he had left his wallet behind on the ground. I had a moment of internal battle over whether to leave the wallet there or return it to him. Without even drawing a conclusion on what to do I ran – okay, more like walked – up the hill trying to catch him, but I was too slow as he had already driven off. I flicked through it and found his address on his driving licence. Again, without thinking, I packed up my stuff and set off to his house. As I approached his address, my inner voice was screaming at me to stop, turn around and go home, but my legs had a mind of their own because before I knew it I was walking up Jay’s driveway. I rang his doorbell and handed over the wallet to a very appreciative Mr. Wright who hadn't even realised it was missing. I declined his offer of going inside and having a drink for obvious reasons, even though in hindsight it wouldn’t have mattered as I already had leaped over the line, the damage was already done, so to speak.”

  “So, when did you meet his daughter?”

  “I will get to that in a bit. So, I walked back down the pathway, harshly slapping myself round the face because of how stupid I was to do what I just did. I did one last turn to take in the house as it really was a beautiful house, and that was when I saw her, Mr. Wright’s daughter Kate, for the first time. She was peeping her head around the curtains from the upstairs window. Her smile, oh, that smile. As I drove home that day all I could think about was her, and then it hit me why. Kate looked exactly how my mother looked when she was young. As soon as I got home, I dug out some old photos to make sure I wasn’t imagining things, but it was true. The resemblance was unsettling, almost like my mother had come to find me after all the years of being estranged through this little girl.

  “I mean, what are the chances that the only person I have ever spoken to when fishing was the father of a girl who looked exactly like how my mother looked as a teenager? It was too much of a coincidence to brush under the carpet, it needed investigating. So, I became the detective of that case."

  “What did you do?”

  “I started by reading a book my grandmother gave me when I was little. It was a book on spirits. I never read it as a kid because I was too busy building things with my father. I found it that evening, tucked away in a box in my garage, so I settled myself in for the night and started to flick through the pages. It did not take me long to become in awe of the words. I did not put the book down for days, I wished I had read it sooner as it was eye-opening for me. Let’s just say the book cemented my theory that my mum somehow brought Kate and me together. Therefore, I knew that I needed to get closer to Kate.”

  “So, you kidnapped her?” the detective snaps.

  “Please do not interrupt or jump to conclusions. I could not simply plant myself into Jay’s family life to get close to her because that would have been weird, so I followed her from a distance. When she went to the supermarket with her mum, I was there, a few trolleys away, watching her load up on green tea. When she was reading the list of ingredients on the packaging to make sure there were no meat traces in it I was there, pretending to read the content of another product a few feet away. When she went to tennis practice, I was there, watching from a distance, secretly cheering her on. When she had fights with her brother and went for a walk, sulking, with her mum, I was there, strolling a few yards behind. Do you get the gist of it? I was always there. It is funny how none of them noticed me lurking in the distance, I must have been born to be a private eye. The problem was, I couldn’t get close to Kate because she was always with someone, until one evening, after her shopping trip, she decided to walk back home by herself."

  “So, you stalked her, and then pounced when she was at her most vulnerable?”

  “Yes, she was vulnerable, because her parents allowed her to walk home alone that late, and it was so dark and pouring with rain. How irresponsible of them, no? So, I did what any half decent human being would do, I offered her a lift. The best bit was, she recognised me. I couldn’t believe it, she actually remembered me from all those months before when she saw me from her upstairs window. I was blown away by that as it was the best feeling in the world, knowing I left a lasting impression on her. She climbed into my van and cuddled into the blanket I had on the seat to try to warm up, and I blasted the heaters to help her dry off. She was soaking wet and shivering: it reminded me of when I was young, and I would run to the campfire with my dad after our swim to warm up.

  “I pulled up outside her house, and that was when the problems really started. All we could hear was screams blazing out of the open windows. I gave Kate a little smile as I knew she would be walking into a war zone, and that was when she looked at me all teary-eyed, and said, ‘Please do not make me go inside’. This vulnerable little girl was asking for my help. I couldn’t make her go in, so I drove us to my house and offered her my phone to call home with, but she didn’t want to do speak to any of them. So, I gave her my old mattress in one of my spare rooms, so she could spend the night. I sat outside and listened to her cry herself to sleep. When it finally went quiet I started thinking how my wish had come true. I had Kate. And the best bit was, she wanted to come home with me, she wanted my protection and I was going to give it to her.”

  “Let me get this straight, she voluntarily stayed with you?”

  “Well, yes. And then a few days passed, and Kate was happy with me, so I stopped bringing up the topic of her returning home. I eventually got Kate a friend named Lizzie for a bit of added company.”

  “Lizzie?” detective Simmons repeats.

  “Yes. I stumbled across her by pure chance. It was during my weekly food shop that I religiously do every Sunday morning. I was buying my supplies when I saw Lizzie with her parents. I always kept myself to myself when at the supermarket, but she was creating such a scene over a can of soup that you couldn’t help but stop to see what was occurring. I saw her father grab her arm and say, ‘If only someone would come along and teach you a lesson, Lizzie. Your mother and I are beyond fed up with you’. I knew I could easily teach her a lesson, so I took it upon myself to save the day, be the saviour that that family desperately needed. I did no more, I paid for my shopping and quickly loaded it into my van.

  “Once I did that I went back inside the supermarket and saw Lizzie strolling around, singing along to her music, picking up countless items to binge on even though she wouldn't be the one paying for any of them. I had to act fast before she found her parents, so I pulled the fire alarm. It was chaos, everyone started hurrying for the exit. It was funny watching people panic even though there was no sign of a fire. I kept a few feet behind her as she made way for the exit and then I made my move. ‘Hi, Lizzie, remember me? I am friends with your dad. I just saw him over there’. Her first mistake I needed to fix was trusting a stranger; surely if I had actually known her dad she would have recognised me. And it did not even cross her mind that the only way I knew her name was because I had heard her dad say it a few moments ago whilst lecturing her.

  “All I had to say was, ‘I think I saw him over there’, and she walked with me to my van, it was that easy. I opened my van door and told her to take a seat to rest her feet while I pretended to phone h
er dad. Within seconds I jumped in my van, locked the doors and drove off. Honestly, she was that engrossed in her phone it took her a few seconds to realise what was happening. Stupid girl! As you can imagine, Lizzie was the opposite of street smart. I got her back to my house and dragged her in as she was kicking and screaming. She should have been saving her energy as the only way I could fix her was through good old fashion starvation. Any other technique I enforced in the past wouldn't cut it with her as she was too stuck in her terrible ways."

  “So, you starved her to death?”

  "The plan wasn’t for her to die, but not everyone can be saved! If she survived she would have been my greatest success story. But sadly, I underestimated her and probably overestimated my own ability. I won’t make that same mistake again.”

  “I will need the address of the supermarket,” Mr. Simmons demands.

  “I am afraid I can’t remember it. Sorry.”

  “We will continue but you won’t be leaving that chair till you remember the address, do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, you are being very clear.”

  “Let’s take a five-minute break,” Mr. Simmons says as he pauses the tape recorder.

  His Truth

  “What did you do to Lizzie?” detective Simmons instantly asks after pressing play to continue the interrogation.

  “When I first got her, I fed her to show her what she would get if she behaved, however, she didn’t understand the basic concept that having good manners, a good attitude and respect equalled food. Therefore, I had no choice but to take her food away until she got it. And after a while, she started to understand so I fed her, and I honestly thought it was the start of a new Lizzie.”

  “So, you didn’t starve her to death?” Mr. Simmons quizzes.

  “Let me finish. So, I had a few years—”

  “Years?” repeats the detective in utter disbelief at the word ‘years’.

  “How many times do I have to say do not interrupt me? As I was saying I had a few years of plain sailing with the two girls which meant they both got fed, but then I heard Lizzie whispering to Kate that she was only pretending to be a good girl, so she could eat, she wasn’t a changed soul. I was fuming! I honestly thought she had turned over a new leaf. I really wanted the new-found Lizzie to be real not fake, as I do not enjoy watching people starve but my rules are my rules. Lizzie probably thought she was being smart, and she was, she fooled me for a long time, a very long time. But I heard everything those two girls said to each other through the vent, and after a few years, she dropped her guard, silly girl. Her face the next morning, when she got no breakfast, was priceless. The girls honestly thought I overlooked their line of communication. I was initially a little bit insulted that they thought that little of my intelligence, but I soon proved my point and that made them realise that I was the smartest person in the room.

  “Nine times out of ten I used food to make someone change for the better. It always worked until Lizzie came along. I outlined how long she could go without food for before it became dangerous, but I carelessly did my sums wrong. I calculated it by her weight and height, but she died of starvation one week before I predicted her brink would be. I would have fed her otherwise, I am not a monster! I didn’t mean to starve her to death!”

  “Why would you even contemplate starving someone?” the detective snaps.

  “Because I always found the best strategy to help someone change for the better was to take them to the brink of death, and then swoop in and save them. That’s all I was trying to do with Lizzie. Plus, I had done it several times before, and it always worked. So, as you can imagine I am extremely disappointed in myself that I failed Elizabeth. I estimated her at nine stone in weight and five foot ten inches in height, and I was right, so I still do not know how it went so wrong.”

  “What did you do with her body?”

  “After she died, I drove to the supermarket where I first saw Lizzie and her family, and I looked around to see if there were any missing posters and there were loads. I contacted the given number and arranged for Lizzie’s parents to collect her and within a few hours, they did. Her father Fred showed no emotion when I handed him his lifeless daughter. I think he was secretly relieved she had passed as she had given his wife and him hell for several years. I approached the subject of whether they were going to phone the police, and do you know what Fred said? ‘No, you have done us a favour’. His wife then screamed, ‘She was the devil child!’ I was speechless. However, I did feel less guilty about what had happened, thanks to their comments.

  “I offered to dispose of Lizzie’s body, but they wanted to do it themselves. Being as I am always the smartest person in the room, I left no trace of Kate’s or my DNA on Lizzie. I soaked her in cold water to wipe away all the evidence, just in case her remains are found in the future. If you find her remains there will be nothing tracing back to me, so why am I even telling you this? Well, all I will say is I am always the smartest person in the room, therefore my telling you all of this is for a reason, and it is down to you to figure out the reason.”

  “Let me get this straight. You have confessed to murdering a young girl and wiping her body of evidence so in the future, you would not get caught, but you have told me all about it,” the detective states, summarising Mr. Hump’s words.

  “Yes. God, I am pleased you are keeping up! And I will continue to answer your questions honestly, officer, if you do me one favour,” Mr. Hump propositions.

  “This is not a negotiation,” snaps the officer.

  “I know, but please, one small favour,” pleads a desperate Mr. Hump.

  “What is it?”

  “Do not touch the vase on my mantlepiece in my living room. Spiky is in it. That is all I have left now since you have taken Kate from me.”

  “I thought you were just walking the forest this morning and stopped to pat the dogs?” the detective smugly says as he now has more than enough tying Mr. Hump to the cottage, and this realisation is written all over his face with this ‘got ya’ expression.

  “Okay. Okay. You got me it is my cottage but please do not touch Spiky’s ashes,” Mr. Hump repeats.

  “Everything will be bagged for evidence, but my officers will be extremely careful with it all,” replies the detective in an agitated tone, as once again Mr. Hump is dictating the line of questioning.

  “Now, continue,” the detective sighs trying to show his superiority by granting Gregory the right to speak.

  “Let me tell you about Spiky,” Mr. Hump decides.

  “Okay,” a deflated Mr. Simmons responds, with realisation in his tone and newly sunken shoulders representing his awareness that he is well and truly in the passenger seat in this interview.

  “When my dad was shot, I dived out of the boat and swam at the bottom of the lake to the other side to get as far away from my killer mother as possible. I still remember hiding behind a tree, paralysed with fear over what just happened. If I had a gun at that particular moment in time, I would have shot myself just to stop feeling vulnerable, heartbroken and terrified of the woman who brought me into this world.

  “I stayed tucked behind the same tree for two nights, crying every time I gazed back at the cottage. To this day I am shocked that I had that many tears in me to come out. But do you know what breaks my heart the most?”

  “What?”

  “My mum didn’t try to find me. I thought she would have put her hiking boots on and attempted to locate me. Surely, she must have been worried that a kid, her kid, was out in the forest all alone with no food, no water and no shelter with God knows what bugs lurking around.

  “I actually thought if the forest’s elements didn’t kill me my heartbreak over her betrayal would. The first night in the forest is still too painful for me to speak about, but I will tell you this; I was shocked I woke up alive, and the same thought ran through my head the next morning. I was still breathing! So, I took that as a sign that I wasn’t meant to die just yet. Surely there was a
reason that I survived two days and nights alone with nothing. My body kept fighting, and I was waiting for my mind to start fighting too. And it did, once I heard a sound that broke the soul-destroying quietness of my surroundings.”

  “What sound was that?”

  “A car’s engine starting. The moment I heard that I climbed to my feet to investigate. I could see in the distance my mum piling her stuff into her car boot and then she left, that was the last time I saw her. I staggered down the hill, slowly swam through the lake and crawled to the cottage. I smashed one of the windows and climbed through it. I remember it felt like I was dragging a dead body along I was that exhausted. I crawled to the fridge, desperate for food. The first thing I found I gulped down. It was a piece of overcooked, dry, stone cold chicken but it did the job. Then I heard my guardian angel pounding towards me: Spiky. As soon as he knew it was me, he leaped at me and licked every part of my face.

  “He was also starving, as that witch, sorry my mum, neglected him. I emptied out the fridge onto the floor, and we had a picnic together. He gave me a purpose to continue, so once our bellies had been fed and watered we packed up some stuff and headed into the forest together on our own adventure.

 

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