by Diane Saxon
Jenna took her time to study her sister’s barely contained excitement, the first flicker of interest she’d witnessed since Fliss had been abducted. If she’d known Sally had that much influence, she would have sent Fliss along to see her several weeks ago. As it was, the timing was probably just right. Maybe Fliss was ready to come out of her shell and face the world again.
She swiped her tongue over her teeth, placed her knife and fork on the side of her plate and took up her glass, raising it to her sister. ‘I think it’s the best bloody news I’ve had all day.’
Fliss followed suit and raised her own glass, clinking it against Jenna’s. They both smiled and took a sip.
‘Only one glass. I’m not drinking like we did the other night.’
‘Nor me,’ Fliss agreed, placing her glass back on the table and taking up her knife and fork again. ‘I felt awful yesterday, and I didn’t drink anywhere as much as you.’
‘I think you did. We were celebrating.’
‘I wasn’t celebrating.’
Confused, Jenna frowned at her younger sister. ‘You told me you’d been offered a job in Wolverhampton. You wanted to celebrate.’
‘I was miserable. I wanted you to tell me not to be so stupid, that I shouldn’t leave you.’
With a slow sip of her wine, Jenna studied Fliss over the top of the wine glass.
‘You didn’t want a new job?’
‘No.’
‘You didn’t want to move to Wolverhampton?’
‘No. Not really. I was confused.’ Fliss’s mouth turned down at the edges and she clattered her knife and fork back onto her plate.
Jenna lowered her glass to the table, a whip of frustration grabbed her. ‘You silly bugger. What the hell did you expect?’
Fliss’s voice thickened as her eyes filled and Jenna’s heart gave a hard contraction. ‘I hoped you’d say what Sally said today.’
Defeated, Jenna stared at her. ‘I said what I thought you wanted to hear, Fliss, I was being frickin’ supportive.’
A teardrop hovered in the corner of Fliss’s eye and then plopped onto her cheek and raced down to the corner of her downturned mouth. ‘I wanted you to tell me not to go.’ Her voice cracked. Domino raised his head from Jenna’s knee, his solemn eyes studying Fliss for a moment before he rounded the table to go and comfort her.
Fliss wrapped her arms around him as he placed his front paws on her leg and lay his neck on her shoulder, smooching her face with his cheek, oozing sympathy and compassion. More, it appeared than Jenna had offered.
Tears scalded her eyes as Jenna pushed back her chair, surged to her feet and made her way around the table. She leaned down and gathered both Fliss and Domino into her embrace, automatically rocking them both to comfort them. Her throat closed around her words, so they came out strangled.
‘You’re a soft sod, you really are.’ Domino swiped a tongue over Jenna’s wet cheek as though she was talking to him. ‘And you are, you silly bugger.’ She took Fliss’s face in her hands and stared deep into her sister’s pale green eyes awash with tears. ‘I love you more than you’ll ever know. I don’t ever want you to go, but I’d never hold you back. We’re family. The only family either of us have. And it’s not tragic and it’s not horrible. It just is. And we need to live with it, look after each other and be clear.’ She placed a gentle kiss on the end of Fliss’s pinkened nose, her heart swelling in her chest as it burst to be free. ‘I thought it was what you wanted.’
‘I thought you’d want me out of your hair.’
‘What in hell’s name gave you that idea?’
A ragged breath hitched in as Fliss replied. ‘Domino ate your kitchen cupboards.’
Jenna’s mind stuttered to a halt. She dropped her hands back down and smoothed them over Domino’s satin coat, her fingers skimming over the raised ridge along his side. ‘That was ages ago. A million things have happened since then.’
‘I know.’ Fliss nodded while she swiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. ‘But every time I come in here,’ she fluttered her hand at the damaged cupboard doors as her voice broke, ‘there’s a reminder of what he did.’
‘He’s a bad dog.’
Domino’s ears flattened, his huge eyes turned morbid and a distinctly Dobbie, the Harry Potter house-elf, look chased over his face. Ears flat to his head, his big brown eyes turned liquid in sad appeal, wrenching a helpless grin from Jenna.
‘See.’ Fliss streaked a hand down his neck. ‘He knows you’ve never forgiven him.’
Jenna took hold of one of his silken ears and gave a gentle caress and Domino tilted his head into her hand, an ecstatic groan rumbled from his chest.
‘Of course, I’ve forgiven him. Maybe it’s you who has to forgive, Fliss.’ Jenna cupped his broad head in her hands and dropped a kiss on the bridge of his nose.
‘I…’
‘No, you haven’t, and it’s probably all connected to your kidnapping.’
Her sister sucked in a laboured breath, but it was about time they spoke about it again. Since the initial investigations and aftermath, Jenna realised they’d swept it to one side in an effort to ignore that it ever happened. But it had happened and if her sister was to heal, they needed to address it.
Jenna straightened and made her way back to her own chair. She picked up her wine glass and raised it once more in Fliss’s direction. ‘Fliss, you are the strongest person I have ever known, and that includes our own mother. You’ve survived a multitude of events in your life, most of them through no fault of your own, including dealing with Frank Bartwell. You escaped. With guts and determination, you got yourself out of there and survived.’ She took a sip of her wine, then put the glass back down on the table between them and pointed at her sister, who still cuddled the Dalmatian. ‘One thing you’re not going to do now is start throwing self-doubt,’ she frowned, ‘and doubt of my support into the fray.’
‘I didn’t doubt…’
Jenna nodded. ‘You did. But you’re not to. It’s unhealthy. I asked you if you wanted to see a counsellor and you said you didn’t, but from the sounds of it, you had a good deal of counselling from Sally today and needed it.’
‘I don’t need counselling.’ Fliss’s reddened eyes blinked with offence, but Jenna rushed on determined to have her say.
‘Perhaps not, but you’re not to allow mind games to take over. Say what you mean, mean what you say, but don’t ever believe you can manipulate me into telling you I love you and I want you to stay. I can tell you that every day of your life if you want me to. But I’m too thick skinned to understand if you’re asking for one thing and expecting another. That’s not the way we were brought up. It’s not the way we tick.’ Just to drive her point home, Jenna met Fliss’s gaze, hardening her own. Whether the tactic worked or not was to be seen. ‘It’s the way Ed treated you, making you lose confidence, making you doubt yourself. Don’t let that happen.’
Fliss sucked in a breath, insult warring across her features as her spine snapped straight with the reminder of her abusive ex-boyfriend. She held onto her breath and then released it in a swift rush. Her face fired up, but the tears dried in an instant.
Fliss reached for her wine glass and cradled it in her hand. ‘You’re right. I know you love me, and I don’t need to seek your approval. I wasn’t playing games. For a while there, I thought that might be the best solution all around, but when Sally spoke to me today, it made such sense. Everything clicked back into place as though it had all been misshapen.’ She watched the glass in her hand, her face pensive as she swirled the red wine around. ‘It’s far more logical to stay here than it is to move away and start over. As Sally says, I’ve had my fifteen minutes of fame, hopefully it’ll fade now, and people will forget.’
Jenna nodded. ‘Eventually they will, once the court case has been heard.’
Fliss met Jenna’s gaze, her tear darkened eyes filled with trepidation.
‘How much longer do they need? It seems to have been fore
ver.’
Jenna shrugged, used to the time delay between arrest and conviction, it still seemed to have dragged on.
‘I imagine it’ll start in the next few weeks, Fliss.’
Fliss chewed her lip. ‘I just want it over and done with so I can become invisible again.’
‘Your celebrity status will fade when there’s nothing further to feed it.’
‘It would if that arse, Kim Stafford, would stop sticking things in the paper. I can’t believe the asinine information he dredges up on me. I’m surprised he hasn’t printed my A level results.’
Jenna ground her teeth as she picked up her cutlery to start on her food again. She stabbed her knife at it, envisaging Kim’s face. ‘He is an arse, and he’s letting our dinner get cold.’
Fliss tasted hers and nodded, but continued to scoop it up, filling her mouth as though she was ravenous. ‘I can microwave it for you, but mine’s okay. I’m used to eating my food cold at school, by the time I’ve got up a dozen times to sort out one of the infants or another.’
Jenna pushed back her chair and took her plate to the microwave, placed it inside and tapped the buttons, zapping her food back to an acceptable heat. She glanced over her shoulder as she waited. ‘So, you’re going to stay at Coalbrookdale, hopefully take a promotion, continue to live here…’
‘Yeah. If that’s okay.’
‘Of course it’s okay.’
‘Only…’
‘Only, what?’
‘I want to pay to have the cupboard doors replaced.’
‘I think I can claim them on my household insurance.’ Jenna opened the microwave door and pulled the plate out, taking her seat opposite Fliss again. Steam rose and her stomach gurgled out a protest at not being fed the food it had been promised.
‘That’ll only put the premium up next year, and you’ll have to pay an excess. It’s probably too late anyway.’
Jenna shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘I’m not worried. I want to clear my conscience, Jenna, and the only way to do that is to replace these bloody doors.’
Domino rested his chin on the table and his black, wet snout pulsed as it faced Jenna as though he wanted her to know he was on Fliss’s side.
Jenna chewed for a while and then took a drink of her wine to wash the food down while she thought. ‘Okay. You can. But the reason I hadn’t replaced them was because I’m considering changing the whole colour scheme in here. I just haven’t got around to putting my mind to it.’ She hadn’t had a moment since it had happened. Once Fliss had been kidnapped it had ceased to hold any importance. Nothing had mattered but Fliss and Domino and their recovery. Perhaps it was time to move forward.
‘Why didn’t you say?’
‘Because we’ve been a little preoccupied lately and it seemed to be the least of my worries. Also, I wanted to wait until spring. It’ll be easier to deal with.’ She cruised her gaze around the kitchen and took in the real oak cupboard doors, which only served to darken the kitchen. ‘I think I could keep the cupboard carcases and just change the doors. What do you think?’
‘I think it would be a great idea.’
‘Or, I could see how much it would cost to have the whole kitchen replaced.’
‘Wow, that’ll cost a bit.’
‘Yeah, but if you’re paying for it…’
Her lips twitched as Fliss turned a sickly shade of green. Her voice came out a high pitched squeal. ‘I’m not paying for your whole bloody kitchen. He only ate a couple of doors.’
Jenna started to laugh as she took another swig of her wine. She drained the glass and reached for the bottle.
Fliss shot dark disapproval at Jenna. ‘I thought we weren’t going to drink too much tonight.’
Jenna poured a half glass and topped up Fliss’s at the same time, giving a careless shrug. ‘We’re not. Nor are you going to pay for the whole kitchen, but you can contribute if that eases your conscience.’
‘It does.’ Fliss finished the last mouthful of her food and pushed her empty plate into the centre of the table so Domino didn’t try for a crafty lick. She glanced around the room and then back at Jenna. ‘What do you think you want?’
Jenna shrugged. ‘Something light, bright, clean.’ From the look on Fliss’s face, Jenna knew she wasn’t going to have any trouble enlisting her to do the makeover.
Settled, she pushed her own plate away and relaxed back in her chair.
All she needed was an early night, hopefully dream free.
19
Wednesday 5 February, 21:05 hrs
Terror slid through his overactive heart as he heard the woman in the room next to him from where he crouched inside the guest room wardrobe.
She wasn’t supposed to be home yet. His fucking heart beat like the wings of a frantic bird, trying to escape the confines of his chest.
Why was she home? He thought he had her schedule, but he obviously hadn’t pinned it down enough. Perhaps she’d got off early.
She’d almost caught him.
He’d been in the middle of installing a tiny camera. If she’d been ten minutes earlier, she would have heard the scream of the drill as he pushed through from her bedroom wall, right next to the photograph frame above her dressing table into the wardrobe in the next room.
Sweat popped out of his forehead. If she’d heard him, he would have been forced to dispatch her without the finesse he wanted and all the fucking planning in the world wouldn’t have made any difference. Weeks of wasted time, the research, the dating app contacts, narrowing down, the online schmoozing. It would have all gone to hell. It still might.
He slumped his head into his hands and breathed in deep and rhythmic until he had himself under control once more. The heat in the small wardrobe rose to stifle him, blocking his lungs until the air backed up in his throat. The taste of her gas boiler that was installed in the cupboard next to the wardrobe coated his tongue to make it stick to the roof of his mouth.
He raised his head and risked a glance at his phone, not even knowing if he’d managed to make the connection. He tapped the glass and waited while it connected to her Wi-Fi and scrolled for a moment before the image burst onto his screen.
Excitement buzzed and popped through his veins, igniting his skin with anticipation as he watched her through his phone, the scent of her deep in his nose, her closeness a sweet temptation. The risk had been worth the thrill.
He took a long pull of breath in through his mouth, pausing as she froze on the other side of the paper-thin wall.
A slow smile spread, creasing his cheeks while he peered closer. Could she hear him? Did she sense him there, right beside her?
She came close to the hole in the wall, stared straight into the camera for a second as though she knew he was there and stopped his heart altogether. Could she see the hole? He’d only had a split second to swipe away the plaster dust before he made a run for a hiding place. He almost slipped under her bed, but this was better. So much better.
When she ducked her head, he blew out a long, desperate sigh of relief and watched her jerk her head upright.
She definitely heard him.
Curiosity got the better of him and he ratcheted in a long, slow pull of breath, let it out again on a noisy gust and stared at the screen to watch her reaction.
Her eyes widened until they almost popped out of her head, but she stayed exactly where she was, frozen to the spot. She took a cautious step back from the dressing table and raised her hands to scrub them across her face.
She screwed her eyes closed as he drew in another robust breath and blew it out again, aware with every sound, she knew he was there.
That was the intention. To let her know he was there, that he had her within his sights. Designed to make her flesh crawl with his little mind games. He'd been told it wasn’t about the kill, but the lead-up, the moment they went over the edge.
It wouldn’t take much, she was already a jittery mess. Silly cow probably believed she had a ghost. I
t was more likely than an actual person, a predator, in her house. More likely and less dangerous. The dead couldn’t harm you, only the living could.
He’d flipped through the contents of her bathroom cabinet earlier. The woman was a hypochondriac. Medicated to the hilt – ibuprofen, aspirin, paracetamol, antihistamine, steroids, sleeping tablets. She had the lot. Cough medicine, nasal spray, antidepressants – several different varieties. If he simply wanted to ‘off’ her, he just needed to pour the cocktail of tablets into her mouth, wash it down with one of the flavoured gins she had and wait for her insides to melt. But that wasn’t his game.
As it was, he could think of much more interesting, fun ways of dealing with her.
As long as she didn’t discover him, crouched like a frog in a drought in her wardrobe. For him, it would be the humiliation of discovery that would hurt.
His lips curved up in a long smile. On the other hand, his discovery would definitely be the death of her.
He swiped the sweat from his eyes with the back of his gloved hand and slid down the wall until he rested on the floor to watch her via the link to his phone. Stupid woman.
Face pale, she backed away from the wall and picked up the nightshirt he’d smoothed his hands over earlier, the knickers he’d fondled. She cast an anxious glance in his direction again before she closed herself in the bathroom.
He checked the time on his phone. If he left now, he could set up the next one. He needed to maintain control, keep three targets going at once and currently he only had this one. There should be three. All at different stages. Then, if one of them went tits up, got a boyfriend, moved to a new house, went on holiday, there would always be a back-up.
He stared at the screen, the empty bedroom gave off a warm white light. The bathroom door opened, and she stepped back into her bedroom, the navy-blue nightshirt hit mid-thigh and had his pulse racing. Smooth, tanned, shapely legs grabbed his attention. He’d always been a leg man. If he’d known hers were so good…
There’d be time enough.
He should have taken his chance when she was in the bathroom and left the house, but trapped as he was, he hunkered into the corner, ready to wait it out until she was asleep.