Don't Breathe

by Heleyne Hammersley

He was about to push Pearson again about backup when his phone vibrated. It was Jack Raynor – head of sixth form – texting from the theatre.

  Call me. Things getting difficult here.

  Cam waited until Pearson had escorted Ruth out of the hall before ringing Raynor back.

  ‘Cam. Are you still at school?’

  ‘Yes. I can’t leave until the police arrive. And, even then, I’m staying until Tom’s safe.’

  ‘Oh, shit. He’s still…?’

  ‘What do you want, Jack?’ Cam had no time for sympathy. ‘What did you mean things are “difficult”?’

  ‘It’s the kids. A lot of them are asking questions and they’ve been texting their parents.’

  ‘But they don’t know what’s going on?’

  ‘No. Only a handful of staff know about the situation. But we can’t keep everybody here indefinitely – it’s too crowded. We need a plan.’

  Cam was tempted to tell Raynor to do whatever he thought was best, but he knew he’d be the one who got the blame if things went wrong.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Let those who live locally contact their parents and they can go home on foot. If they can’t go to their own house for any reason encourage them to go to a friend’s. I’ll ring the bus companies and see if they can pick up the rest.’

  ‘Cam, that’s at least a dozen coaches. There’s nowhere for them to park down here.’

  Cam took a deep breath. Why was he surrounded by such incompetence?

  ‘Jack, for fuck’s sake, sort it out! I can’t do everything. I can’t be everywhere. I’ll let the bus companies know that there’s not enough parking and give them your number. Sort it!’

  He hung up and stood up, trying to work out what to do next. What had he said? Where did he need to go? His thinking was woolly and slow. Reception. He needed to find the contact details for the bus companies. Ruth would know.

  Ruth was sitting behind the reception desk, sipping from a mug of something hot. She kept it close to her lips and every time she exhaled steam rose up and fogged her glasses. She was less pale and seemed calmer.

  ‘You okay?’ Cam asked, not really caring but keen to get her on side so she could help with the bus issue.

  ‘Getting there. Just a bit shaken up.’

  ‘Where’s Pearson?’ Cam asked, looking round.

  ‘He’s gone to find Penny, to make sure everything’s set up for his colleagues.’

  ‘I thought Penny had already sorted that?’

  Ruth shrugged and took another gulp of her drink. ‘That’s what he said. He’s only been gone a minute – I’m sure he’ll be back soon.’

  ‘Okay.’ Cam couldn’t see any point in interrogating his PA about Pearson. He’d turn up at some point. ‘Can you get me the contact details for the bus companies that we use? I need to get the kids home from the theatre. Jack says they’re already getting restless.’

  Ruth put her mug down on the counter and pulled her keyboard towards her. ‘There’s only three. Shall I email you the details or do you want me to write them down?’

  ‘Email,’ Cam said. It would be quicker. He could go into his office and ring from there where it would be quiet. ‘When Penny or Pearson appear, let them know I’m in my office.’ He had an idea forming – something that might speed up the situation and get help to Tom quickly. He just needed some privacy.

  Closing the office door behind him he sat down and rolled his computer mouse around to wake up his PC. Clicking on his email he saw he had over twenty messages but he didn’t even bother to check who had contacted him – he scrolled straight to the one his PA had sent and dialled the number of the first bus company. Avoiding lengthy explanations, Cam invented a water shortage and the person at the other end of the phone was happy to oblige. She said the lack of parking was unlikely to be a problem, but he gave her Raynor’s number anyway – let him deal with any issues.

  The other two companies were equally obliging and didn’t seem to find his cover story at all suspicious. Job done, Cam leaned back in his chair and considered his next move.

  Pearson’s ‘backup’ was being frustratingly slow, and he was beginning to wonder exactly what the DI had told them. Had he explained the urgency? Had he followed up with an account of Tom’s injuries?

  It was the first aid that had given him the idea. If the police couldn’t get here fast enough why shouldn’t he call for an ambulance? He would alert the emergency services and they might be able to send somebody from much closer than Kendal. At least he might be able to negotiate his son’s release if an ambulance was waiting – with or without Pearson’s help.

  He picked up the phone just as the police officer entered the office without knocking.

  ‘Who’re you ringing?’ Pearson asked. ‘Ruth said you were going to get the buses to come for the kids at the theatre.’

  ‘I’ve done that,’ Cam said. ‘I was just–’ He couldn’t think of a lie.

  ‘Just what?’ Pearson prompted.

  ‘I was going to ring an ambulance,’ Cam admitted with a sigh. ‘I don’t think things are moving fast enough and I want to get help for my son.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Pearson said. ‘Put the phone down and we’ll talk about what happens next.’

  Cam shook his head. He wasn’t going to be intimidated. ‘No. I’m sick of waiting. Tom might die and you don’t seem to want to do anything about it.’

  ‘Put the phone down,’ Pearson repeated.

  Cam ignored him and pressed nine for an outside line.

  ‘Cam. Hang up.’

  Pearson had moved closer, towering over Cam.

  ‘No I–’ He stopped, eyes fixed on the detective inspector. ‘What the fuck?’

  ‘Put the phone down and keep your hands where I can see them,’ Pearson instructed.

  Cam did as he was told, keeping his eyes fixed on the barrel of the gun that the man had just slipped out of his jacket pocket.

  Before

  Chrissie checked her appearance in the mirror for the third time that morning. Her recent highlights caught the sun and accentuated the carefully cut casual style that had cost her a fortune the previous week. Cam had been amused when she’d told him how much it had cost – he assumed that she was keeping herself well groomed for him. If he’d known the truth, and how much money she’d squirrelled away just by adding a couple of pounds here and there to everything she bought, he’d have been furious. It wasn’t difficult these days, keeping the money a secret: all her bank statements now came via email so she didn’t have to have them sent to her friend Laura’s anymore and she was convinced that Cam didn’t really know the real cost of anything.

  It had taken a couple of years for Chrissie to realise the truth about her husband but, by that time, she’d had Tom and was trapped. At first, she’d been happy to stay at home, look after the house and make sure everything was perfect for Cam when he came home. He was ambitious and she knew he’d be head of the school as soon as the position became vacant. And he doted on her. Nothing was too much; clothes, cars, holidays, anything she wanted she just had to ask.

  After Tom was born everything changed. Cam became possessive about his wife and son and couldn’t understand Chrissie’s desire to meet other mothers or to have coffee with friends. He’d ring her during the day to check that she was at home and if she did go out, he’d grill her about where she’d been and who she’d seen. One afternoon she’d been late back from a routine doctor’s appointment and Cam had sulked for a week – barely speaking to her and sleeping in the spare room. Chrissie had been glad of the break, if she was honest with herself, but it wasn’t fair on Tom, so she’d apologised, accepted blame and Cam had agreed to move on.

  As she became more aware of her husband’s manipulation, she became less convinced that she loved him. Chrissie wasn’t afraid of Cam – she knew he’d never physically harm her – but she hated his moods and his passive aggressive behaviour. She could never fully relax around him. She’d heard rumours
, the threats and the bullying, but she’d never seen any of it in her home – she just didn’t want to be there with him.

  She’d stayed for her son. Chrissie knew that Cam loved Tom, but she never fully trusted him not to harm the boy – psychologically if not physically. There was no way she could leave him with his father and, if she’d tried to take him, she knew Cam would leave her penniless and abandoned. So, she’d waited and planned; setting up her own bank account and hiding small amounts of cash from her husband until she could deposit them. By the time Tom turned fourteen she had over £6,000 and she thought that when Tom finally escaped to university, she might have over £10,000. Enough to get away – maybe even to wherever Tom ended up so she could see him regularly.

  Then she’d met Adam and everything had changed. He’d walked into the café where she was having coffee with Laura and literally turned her head. Tall and dark with a heavy beard – since shaved off – he was striking to look at. He moved with an air of easy confidence and was friendly with the young girl serving coffee without being patronising or flirty.

  Laura had noticed him too but, more significantly, she’d noticed Chrissie’s eyes following him out of the door. Three weeks later he’d approached her as she was opening her car door and asked her out. Chrissie had shrugged him off, but she’d seen him in the café nearly every week for a couple of months and, every time, he smiled and nodded. One morning, after an especially trying evening with Cam, she’d thought, What the hell? She’d smiled back and he’d come over to chat. Laura, with uncharacteristic discretion, had left early allowing Chrissie time to find out that Adam was unmarried, didn’t have any kids and worked in property management.

  Chrissie had never considered the possibility that she might cheat on her husband but after two meetings with Adam she knew that he was worth the risk. She wasn’t frightened of Cam; she was irritated, sickened by him and appalled at the person he’d turned her into. When she was with Adam she felt like herself; more than that, she felt like she’d come back to life. And, after all she’d put up with, she deserved to live.

  Her lipstick looked a bit blurred around the edge of her upper lip, so she blotted and did a quick repair. Not that Adam seemed to care about her appearance, she just wanted to look her best – it had become second nature to make sure that the way she looked was always beyond reproach. Too many negative comments and sulks from Cam had trained her well. Adam never commented on anything specific about her appearance – he just told her she looked great, or beautiful, or, on one occasion, good enough to eat. She liked that. She didn’t want to be told that her lipstick was the wrong shade or her hair was too short – it was too much pressure. She took it from Cam, but she didn’t want it from Adam: she just wanted him to appreciate her for who she was.

  She was meeting him in Carlisle where it was unlikely that they’d be spotted by anybody she knew. Adam had booked a room in a chain hotel on the outskirts where they planned to spend some time together before a quick lunch at a small café down one of the city’s many quiet side streets. It would be the first time they’d slept together, and Chrissie was as nervous as she’d been on the night she lost her virginity. So much could go wrong. What if they weren’t compatible? What if her naked, childbirth-scarred body repulsed him?

  ‘Idiot,’ Chrissie said to herself, snatching the keys of her Mercedes from the hall table and resisting the urge for yet another look in the mirror. ‘It’ll be fine.’

  Adam raised his mug to his lips, his eyes still smiling as he drank.

  ‘What?’ Chrissie asked.

  ‘Nothing. Just looking at you.’

  Chrissie smiled back. She knew the feeling. She loved to look at Adam’s strong features, his dark hair, straight nose and deep brown eyes; he was so different from Cam.

  ‘Do you feel different?’ Chrissie asked. She did. There had been a seismic shift in their relationship in the past few hours. For a while she’d felt like she wasn’t really cheating; that Adam was just a friend. Their first kiss had undermined that belief and Chrissie realised that she’d been pretending to herself – she was falling in love with Adam. Now, though, everything was different and she couldn’t go back to their chaste kisses and discreet meetings. Chrissie wanted Adam. Not just physically – although the sex had been great – but emotionally. She needed him in her life, and she was going to make the change. She just hoped he’d understand that it would have to be slow. She had to do things properly because of her son, and she couldn’t treat Cam badly even though she didn’t love him anymore.

  ‘Do you love me?’ Chrissie asked even though Adam had used those exact words just a few minutes previously.

  ‘Of course.’ There was no hesitation, no curiosity about why she’d ask, just a simple statement of fact.

  ‘I’m going to leave Cam.’ The words, once said aloud, sounded so right, so straightforward. She could do it; people left their spouses all the time. ‘Tom’s old enough to choose and I think he’d choose me. I can’t live like that anymore – not now.’

  Adam reached across the table and took her hand. He looked so concerned, and so happy that she’d made this decision. ‘Whatever you decide is fine with me. I can help you to move in with me; I can help with Tom, I can do whatever you need, just ask.’

  Chrissie pulled her hand away and Adam’s smile faded. ‘You’re not going to come and live with me, are you?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not at first. I need to find out who I am without Cam. I love you, Adam, I really do but I’m worried what Cam will do if he finds out about us. I don’t want to be one of those women that jumps from one man’s bed to another.’

  ‘I thought you just did.’

  Chrissie shook her head. ‘I want to be with you, honestly. You just need to be patient and let me do this my way. I don’t even have a job – how am I supposed to support myself and Tom?’

  Adam opened his mouth to say something, his eyes suddenly alight again but Chrissie stopped him.

  ‘I won’t– I can’t accept anything from you. It’s important that I do this on my own.’

  ‘What if you change your mind? Or if I wait and you decide you don’t want to be with me?’

  This time she reached for him. ‘That’s not going to happen. I love you. I just need to do the right thing for Tom. And for Cam.’

  Adam nodded and smiled sadly as Chrissie looked at her watch. ‘Shit! I’m going to be late.’

  ‘Late?’

  ‘I told Cam I was meeting Laura and then heading home. I can’t risk him ringing the house to check – I need to get back.’ She smiled. ‘But you’re such a lovely distraction.’

  Adam stood up and she could see that he was unhappy. ‘You shouldn’t have to do this. Rush around just so he can check that you’re where he expects you to be. How can you live like that?’

  Chrissie grabbed her bag and shrugged on her jacket. ‘I can’t. Not for much longer. I can’t afford to have him getting suspicious now I’ve decided to leave. It’d only make things worse.’ She stepped around the small table, leaving a twenty-pound note to cover the cost of their lunch and drew Adam into a hug. ‘Soon, my love. Soon.’

  20

  Natalie listened again to the recorded message.

  ‘You’re through to Fellbeck Academy. If you want to report your child as absent for the day, please press one. For the latest…’

  She ended the call and frowned again at the large glass entrance door that showed nothing but a reflection of the car park and the sky. What the hell was going on in there?

  The main gate to the school was locked, as was the smaller pedestrian gate beside it which suggested that nobody else was likely to be leaving the site and somebody on the front desk could control who came in. But there wasn’t anybody on the front desk. Had the whole school been evacuated?

  Val said that her son had told her they’d been evacuated to the theatre. It was big enough to hold all the students and staff from Fellbeck – Natalie had covered enough events there to know
the capacity of the building – so it made it a logical choice for a place to send everybody. That’s where she needed to be if she was going to get any answers.

  The theatre was a relatively new addition to the town. Opened in 2009, it had replaced a disused 1950s cinema complex that had seen a dramatic fall in customers since the opening of the multiplex in Workington. Built from local slate and standing three storeys high, the theatre blended effectively with the landscape and the top-floor café commanded impressive views of the surrounding fells. Natalie had attended a few productions since it had opened and had been impressed by the range and professionalism of the theatre’s offering.

  The car park was quiet so Natalie chose a spot quite close to the impressive glass-and-steel atrium and, as she approached the doors, she saw that the large reception area was empty. It looked like the students had already been seated in the main auditorium of the theatre.

  ‘Yes?’ The man on the main desk gave her a thin smile that almost disappeared beneath his bushy dark moustache. ‘Can I help you?’ His posture and narrowed eyes suggested that he was following his script, but he had no intention of being helpful. He was tense and watchful.

  ‘I’m looking for whoever’s in charge of the students,’ Natalie said, brightly. ‘Is it Mr Cleaver or his deputy?’

  The eyes got even narrower and the man looked her up and down with barely disguised disdain. ‘I’m the general manager of the theatre, Paul Scott. And you are?’

  ‘Natalie Beckett.’ Nat dug in her pocket and pulled out a battered business card that stated her position as reporter even though she hadn’t been out on an assignment in months.

  ‘A journalist? What do you want?’ he asked, handing the card back to her between the tips of his index finger and thumb. ‘I usually deal with your advertising department, or the features section when we want reviews.’