by C. L. Taylor
I nod.
‘What was that?’ Mike asks, his stubbly cheek pressed against mine, his warm breath in my ear.
‘I understand.’
‘Good girl. No one needs to make this any more complicated than it already is. All I want to do is take Chloe home to her dad, safe and sound, and then we can all forget this ever happened. You want that don’t you, Lou? To forget all this ever happened.’
‘Yes,’ I breathe.
‘What are you whispering to her?’ Chloe takes a step closer, tears shining in her eyes. ‘Are you telling her that you love her?’
I shake my head but she’s not looking at me anymore, she’s completely fixated on Mike.
‘No, sweetheart,’ he softens his voice. ‘God, no. Chlo, how can you even ask that?’
‘You loved her. You loved her more than anyone in the world. I read it, in her diary.’ Her hand twitches and a tiny pool of blood appears on her wrist.
My chest tightens and my breath catches in my throat.
‘You were lying, weren’t you, Lou?’ Mike presses on my bicep. ‘You had a crush on me, didn’t you? Made up stories in your diary? Fantasies.’
‘Yes.’ I glance round the clearing. I could risk it. I could scream for help. Mike would be startled enough to loosen his grip on me. I can probably still outrun him. But … I look back at Wendy, still unconscious on the grass and Chloe with her big, desperate eyes and the blood snaking around her wrist.
‘You’re the one who’s lying,’ she says and, for a second, I think she’s talking to me. ‘I googled you. You ran away to France with her. The article said you had sex.’
‘Lies,’ Mike says. ‘She set me up because I wasn’t interested in her. I went to prison because of what she did. I don’t love her, Chloe. I hate her.’
She smiles, ever so slightly. ‘Say that again.’
‘I hate her.’
She looks at him for the longest time, her big, green eyes still and impassive, the blade still pressed to her wrist.
Mike shifts from one foot to the other.
‘Let me take care of you,’ he says softly. ‘I know you’re unhappy and I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you like I promised, but it was Lou’s fault, Chloe. I didn’t want to tell you this last night in front of your dad, but the reason I went missing was because Lou locked me in a dog cage. She’s a psychopath. She’s jealous of what we’ve got, me and you. She’s obsessed. Always has been.’
Chloe doesn’t so much as glance at me. Her attention is so focussed on Mike it’s as though she’s forgotten I’m even here.
‘I love you, Chloe Meadows. You’re my world, my special girl. I’d do anything for you.’
A smile flickers at the edge of her lips. ‘Let go of her then.’
‘What?’
‘Let go of her. I can’t stand the way you’re snuggled up to her. You should be SNUGGLED UP TO ME!’ Rage, or pain, shines in her eyes.
‘Okay, okay.’ Mike shoots me a warning look, then lets go of me. ‘There you go, Chlo.’ He pushes me roughly away and reaches an arm out to her. ‘She means nothing to me. Come here, sweetheart. Come here, my love.’
‘No.’ Chloe swerves out of his reach. ‘Not until you say it.’
‘Say what?’
‘Say you never loved her. Say you never fancied her. Say you never touched her. Say she’s not special. Say that you hate her.’
‘All those things.’ Mike holds up his hands palms out. ‘I never loved her, never fancied her, never touched her and she’s not special.’
‘You didn’t say you hated her.’
‘I hate her. I already told you that, Chloe.’
‘I know. I just wanted to hear it again.’ She walks up to me and stops less than a foot away. The scalpel isn’t pressed up against her wrist anymore. She’s holding it in her hand, pointed towards me and she’s less than a foot away.
‘Do you know what I hate?’ she asks. ‘That you got him first. That you kissed him first. And I really, really hate that he loved you first.’
‘Chloe!’ Mike darts towards her and gathers her into his arms. ‘Stop!’
‘I love you,’ she says, pulling away so she can look up into his face.
‘I love you too.’
She smiles and stands up on tiptoes, craning her neck for a kiss. All the tension in Mike’s face seems to melt away. She’s back under his control again – calm, subservient and willing. He smooths the hair away from her face, cradles the back of her head with his hand, then leans in and lowers his lips to hers. As their mouths meet, Chloe slides her left hand over his chest and onto his shoulder. She pulls him closer, so he’s bent over, leaning his weight into her, then she whips up her right hand and plunges the scalpel in his neck. She stares up into his anguished face as he roars in pain, then she pulls out the blade and stabs him again.
‘Liar,’ she says as the blood spurts from his neck and coats her hand. ‘You’re a fucking liar.’
‘Chloe, stop!’ I scream. ‘Stop! Stop!’
It’s like a scene from a horror film playing on a loop. There’s blood everywhere, on Chloe’s hand, on Mike’s hands, on his shirt, his jacket, his throat and his face. There’s blood on his trousers, the grass and on me. He’s gone quiet. The only sound is the wet squelch of the scalpel going in and out of his neck.
‘Stop!’ I kick out at Chloe’s legs, smashing the heel of my foot against her left knee. Her leg crumples and she tips to the side, arms outstretched. As she falls, the scalpel flies from her hand and lands in the bushes.
There’s a soft groan from behind me. Mike has dropped to his knees. He’s clutching his neck and blood is pouring over his hands and dripping off his fingers. His face is ashen.
‘Mike?’ Chloe crawls towards him. ‘Mike, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’
‘No.’ I try to pull her away from him but Wendy is calling my name. Her voice is weak but her eyes are open. She’s trying to get up.
‘Wendy?’ I crouch beside her. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I can’t see properly.’ She touches a hand to her face. Her right eye and cheekbone are so swollen I can’t see more than a tiny slit of eyeball and there are violent red scratches on her skin.
‘We need to call an ambulance, and the police. Chloe just stabbed Mike.’
‘I know. I saw.’ Wendy winces as she props herself up on an elbow. As she cranes her head to look around me, her lips part in shock.
‘What is it?’ I twist round.
Six or seven feet away Chloe is sobbing and rocking back and forth, cradling Mike’s head in her lap. His eyes are open but he’s not looking into her face, he’s gazing, unseeing at the sky.
He’s dead.
I thought I’d feel relieved, vindicated, free. Instead I feel nothing.
‘Lou.’ Wendy tugs at my sleeve. ‘Louise!’ She tugs harder. ‘We need to get out of here, before the police turn up and arrest Chloe. Her life will be over. We can’t let that happen.’
‘I’ll say it was me.’
‘What?’
‘I’ll say I stabbed him. The police don’t need to know that Chloe had anything to do with it, not if we get rid of both Mike’s phones.’
‘But she’s covered in blood.’
‘So we’ll wrap your coat around her and smuggle her out of the park.’
‘Her DNA will be all over him. Look at her. Her hair’s all over his face.’
‘So we try and get him out of here too. We drive him somewhere in your car and we burn his body or we …’
I tail off. It’s a ridiculous idea. There’s no way we can get a man of his size, covered in blood, out of here unnoticed, but there has to be an alternative to Chloe spending the rest of her life in jail. If that happens he’ll have destroyed her life twice.
‘The scalpel’s in the bushes,’ I say, getting to my feet. ‘The police might not be able to pin this on Chloe if they can’t find a murder weapon. I need to find it so we can—’
‘Wait!’ Wendy pulls on my sle
eve. ‘I’ve got a better idea.’ She reaches for her jacket then looks up at me. ‘Get me a leaf from that bush over there. The one with big leaves. But don’t touch it with your fingers, pull your jumper over your hand.’
‘What?’
‘Just do it.’
I run to the bush, pluck off a leaf, making sure I don’t touch it, then run back to her. Chloe has stopped crying and rocking. Mike is still slumped across her lap but she’s not staring down into his lifeless face anymore. She’s watching me.
‘Right,’ Wendy says, angling her body towards me. ‘I want you to reach into my left coat pocket and pull out what’s inside. Do it carefully, with the leaf. Do not touch it.’
I peer into the pocket, then look at Wendy. ‘It’s a knife.’
‘Correct. It belongs to Michael.’
‘Why’s it in your pocket?’
‘I took it when I went to his house. Anyway, what’s important is that the only fingerprints on it are his.’
‘C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,’ she says as I slowly withdraw the sharp kitchen knife from the pocket, handle first.
A police siren sounds in the distance. Whatever Wendy’s got planned, we need to be quick.
‘Now what?’
‘Give the knife to me, carefully. We don’t want any fingerprints on it. Chloe!’ She raises a hand and beckons the girl over. ‘Come over here now.’
I expect Chloe to ignore Wendy, to refuse or to shout something abusive but she doesn’t. Instead she pushes Mike off her lap and stands up, her shoulders slumped and her eyes on the ground. As she drifts towards us, Wendy looks back at me.
‘Okay, you need to leave now.’
‘What?’
‘Go.’
I stare at her, aghast. There’s no way I’m leaving. Chloe needs my help. They both do.
‘Lou,’ Wendy says. ‘You need to get out of here. When the police turn up they’ll arrest us all and seize our clothes, phones and cars. Then they’ll search our houses. Your car has Mike’s DNA all over it, your barn’s covered in his piss and shit and god knows what, and you’re covered in his blood. If this plan’s going to stand a chance of working you can’t be here.’
‘Tell me the plan and let me decide.’
She talks rapidly – machine gun fast – leaving no gaps for me to interject then, as suddenly as she started, she stops. There’s a second of silence as she takes a breath then she says, ‘I know I’ve given you no reason to trust me, Louise. And I’ve got no reason to trust you, but if we don’t do this right, Chloe is going to go to prison for a very long time.’
I stare at her in shock as I process everything she’s just told me. ‘Saskia Kennedy? The woman who told Ben I was dying. That was you?’
She shrugs awkwardly. ‘Yes.’
I step backwards, hands raised. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know who she is anymore. ‘But why would you—’
‘Please.’ Wendy steps towards me, hands outstretched. ‘I know it sounds strange and it … well, it probably was … but I was never going to hurt you, I just wanted to—’
‘You left the flowers too, didn’t you? And the deepest sympathy note.’
‘I thought it was funny.’ She grimaces, apologetically. ‘I’ve got a … slightly unusual sense of humour.’
I don’t want to hear anymore. I want to get the hell away from her, and this park.
‘No!’ someone shouts as I turn to leave. Chloe walks towards me, blood-stained and shivering, her arms wrapped around her body.
‘Please,’ she begs. ‘Please go through with her plan. I don’t want to go to prison.’
I shake my head. ‘I can’t. I can’t trust a thing Wendy says.’
‘So we all go to prison?’ Chloe says. ‘None of us deserve that. Not me, not Wendy and definitely not you. I know what Mike did to you. I read your diary, remember?’
‘You hate me.’
‘No I don’t.’
‘But you said—’
‘Lou,’ Wendy touches my arm as a police siren rings through the park. It’s getting closer. ‘I know I’ve given you every reason not to trust me but this really is the only way we can get through this. If we don’t, Mike wins, again.’
I glance at his lifeless body. I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to. He’s got my keys and mobile in his pocket.
‘So take them back,’ Wendy says as I point this out. She crosses the clearing, plucks Mike’s phone from the grass and rubs it on her skirt. ‘Fingerprints. We need to switch this with your stuff. Make sure you pull your jumper over your fingers before you make the swap.’ She pauses. ‘It’s your decision, Lou. Are you going to do this or are you going to run?’
I’m nearly at the exit to the park when a blood-curdling scream makes all the hairs on my body stand up. Chloe’s just been stabbed.
Chapter 45
DS Anna Hope
DS Hope sits back in her chair and crosses her arms over her chest. She looks from the girl, pale-faced and tear-stained – her shoulder heavily strapped – sitting across the desk from her, to her mother, tight-lipped and wringing her hands in her lap. It’s not ideal, having the mother present. From the way the child keeps glancing at her, she can tell that she’s anxious. Another appropriate adult would be better in order to get full disclosure, one the child isn’t so closely connected to. Still, better the mother than the obnoxious arsehole of a father who turned up at the desk and screamed abuse at the duty sergeant.
‘Okay.’ She nods at DC Wilson, sitting beside her, then shoots what she hopes is a friendly, reassuring smile at Chloe Meadows. ‘Why don’t you tell me what happened, starting with your relationship with Michael Hughes.’
‘Chloe,’ says Simon Arnold, the solicitor sitting on the other side of the girl, ‘you don’t have to answer that, or any other questions that DS Hope asks you. Remember the chat we had before.’
The girl looks from him to her mother.
DS Hope says a silent prayer. Please be a talker.
‘It’s okay,’ Julie Meadows touches her daughter on the shoulder. ‘Just tell the truth.’
‘You’ll hate me.’
‘There’s nothing you could say that could make me hate you. I love you. You’re my little girl.’
‘Dad’ll kill me.’
‘He won’t do anything of the sort. I promise you. When this is all over, we’re going to go and live with your Auntie Meg. Me, you and Jamie. If you want to.’
‘Of course I want to. I didn’t know where you’d gone, Mum. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.’
‘Oh, Chloe. I was always going to come back to get you and Jamie. I just needed to get away for a bit, sweetheart. Your dad … he … I … I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m so sorry I left you behind, Chloe. I’m so, so sorry.’
As Chloe bursts into tears, Julie shuffles her chair closer to her daughter’s, then pulls her into her chest.
‘Sorry,’ she says to DS Hope as she strokes the girl’s hair. ‘Things at home have um … they’ve been difficult. Me and her dad are splitting up. I haven’t been living with them for the last couple of days. It all got a bit much, so I went to stay with my sister.’
‘Right. I see.’ DS Hope pushes a box of tissues and a glass of water towards the girl, waits for her to calm down then says, ‘Are we okay to continue, Chloe?’
The girl looks at her mother who smiles reassuringly.
‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘I am.’
Simon Arnold sighs audibly but Anna ignores him.
‘Okay then. So, talk me through your relationship with Michael Hughes. How you met him and how your relationship progressed.’
Anna Hope listens intently as Chloe explains how her relationship with Mike Hughes morphed from apathy (‘He was a friend of my dad’s. He seemed nice enough but he was … you know … old’) to confidante (‘He let me talk without judging me or calling me names’) to ‘boyfriend and girlfriend’. The girl’s expression changes when she talks about her feelings for him. Her eyes swim
with emotion and she looks impossibly young.
‘It sounds like he meant a lot to you,’ she says.
Chloe nods. ‘He was my world. I loved him.’
‘But something changed?’
Chloe runs a bitten fingernail back and forth along the desk.
‘It’s okay, love,’ her mum says. ‘You can tell her.’
Chloe’s gaze remains fixed on the white Formica table that separates them. ‘I thought he’d gone off me. He stopped replying to my texts. I thought it was because I’d got sacked from work and he was annoyed that he wouldn’t be able to see me every day or because …’ she presses her lips together and frowns, ‘… because I wouldn’t sleep with him. When we went on holiday, me and my family, I … um … I was …’ She brushes her hair forward with her hand, a flimsy barrier so her mother can’t see her face. ‘I was going to throw myself off the balcony. I just wanted to die.’
Julie Meadows presses a hand over her mouth and stares at Anna with startled, uncomprehending eyes, but she doesn’t say a word.
‘That must have been very hard,’ Anna says softly, looking up at Chloe, ‘feeling like that.’
Her heart goes out to the girl. How broken and lost must Chloe have felt to have considered suicide? When she was thirteen the worst thing to happen to her was her best friend dumping her to be friends with Jayne Ashton. She was miserable for weeks, but killing herself never even entered her mind.
‘Yeah,’ Chloe says. ‘The only reason I didn’t go through with it was because I fell off the table. Then I heard Dad on the phone saying Mike had gone missing.’
‘Did you see Mike again? Before the incident in the park?’
‘Yeah.’ She nods. ‘He came round the house. Mum wasn’t there. She’d left the day before and Jamie was in his room. Dad said Mike had been on a “dirty weekend”,’ Chloe makes quotation marks with her fingers, ‘with some woman, then he told me to make tea for them. Before I could make it Dad changed his mind and said he wanted beers instead. When he went out to get some fags I tried to go up to my room. Mike followed me into the hallway and he attacked me when I told him I didn’t want to see him again.’