Close Your Eyes

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Close Your Eyes Page 26

by Rachel Abbott


  Tom held his breath, wondering if she would be upset.

  ‘Oh.’ He could hear the disappointment in her voice, and it matched his own. ‘It’s okay, Dad, but can we sort out where I’m going to live quickly, please? The last year’s been a bit bonkers, and now Mum’s talking about moving to Scotland or something. I’ll never see you.’

  ‘I think it’s Durham, so not quite as far as Scotland – and nowhere near as far as Australia, sweetheart.’ That was true, but to Tom it might as well have been.

  He heard a sigh. ‘I know, but first I was at home, then Mum got ill and I moved in with you – which was brilliant, by the way – and then Australia, and now I’ve no idea. I want to make friends, pass my exams and – you know – go to parties and stuff.’

  ‘It’s a priority to get it sorted, Luce – I promise. I’ll sit down with you and your mum and we’ll work it out. You’re old enough to have a say in this, and I promise we’ll listen.’

  ‘Yeah, but can Louisa be there too?’

  Tom was surprised but pleased. ‘Of course, as long as your mum doesn’t mind.’

  ‘It’s just that you and Mum… Well, it’s always a bit competitive, and Louisa and Mum don’t irritate each other the way you two do.’

  Another pang of guilt hit Tom. He always tried to be reasonable with Kate, but she somehow managed to wind him up every time.

  ‘Fair comment. I’ll speak to Louisa and get her to set it up. Speak soon, love.’

  ‘Okay. Is Becky with you?’ Lucy had known Becky since she was five, and they had always got on well.

  ‘She is – she’s driving, though.’

  ‘Oh, God help you, Dad! Say hi from me.’

  ‘Lucy says hi.’

  ‘Hiya, Lucy!’ Becky shouted, and Tom heard his daughter’s response, loud in his right ear.

  He ended the call, feeling deflated by his ongoing battles with Kate and how they must affect Lucy, but all thoughts of his ex-wife and daughter were rudely interrupted as his phone rang again.

  ‘Keith. You must have news.’

  ‘I do, but not what we were expecting, sir. The hire company finally got their system up and running. We patched them through to the team at Lincolnshire police control so they could convey updates on the car’s movements. A squad car was dispatched, but they decided not to stop the hire car or apprehend the driver without further instruction.’

  ‘Because?’

  ‘Because the driver isn’t a young woman, sir. It seems to be a middle-aged man.’

  61

  MARTHA

  We were almost at the car when I heard Dad shout.

  ‘Wait, DeeDee!’ I turned back, not daring to hope. He hurried towards me. ‘I’ll do it, but try to persuade your mum to leave too. Please, I’m begging you to do your best. Tell her I love her. I’ve not been allowed to say that for years, but I’ve never stopped.’

  I had no time left to explain what I was doing, or why. I’d have to take the Range Rover, and I’d have to go immediately. Aram would see the car and assume it was Dad returning with the post. It might not give me much time to do what was needed, but it was the best I could think of.

  I crouched down to my son’s eye level. ‘Alfie, sweetheart, you know that this is your grandad, and I’ve told you lots of lovely things about him before. You know what a grandad is, don’t you?’

  He nodded, but his eyes were round with alarm. He didn’t know what was happening, but he could feel the tension fizzing around him. ‘Is he your daddy?’

  ‘That’s right, darling. He’s my daddy. Do you remember I said that he lives a long way away, but I was hoping that some day you’d meet him? Well, that’s why we’re here, and I know you’re going to love him. When I was your age, he used to dance with me and sing, and he’s really good fun. I’ve got to go and see someone for a while, so Grandad’s going to look after you. That’s exciting, isn’t it?’

  He didn’t look excited. He clutched my hand a little tighter and bit his bottom lip.

  ‘Do you remember your first day at school? You were worried about that, but after the first half an hour you had a great time, didn’t you? And now you love school. It’ll be like that, you’ll see, and I’ll be back soon.’

  I said the words and swallowed hard. I had no idea when I would see him again.

  Alfie leaned against me and whispered in my ear, ‘Is Grandad nice, Mummy?’

  I turned my head so my lips were next to his ear, and I inhaled his sweet scent. ‘He’s lovely, and he’ll look after you really well. I love you, baby.’

  It was all I could do not to howl with the agony of it all, but I had to make him feel that going with his grandad was nothing special – a bit like going to the childminder’s.

  Dad crouched in front of his grandson. ‘It’s okay, Alfie. We’re going to have some fun. Do you like the seaside? I thought we could get some ice cream. I haven’t had ice cream for years and years. What do you think? Good idea?’

  The twin lures of ice cream and the beach did it, and with a final look at me Alfie couldn’t wait to get into his car seat. Once he was fastened in, Dad reached for me. Despite leaving behind everything he knew for a reason he didn’t understand, he looked almost happy. I realised then it must have been a long time since he’d had any fun.

  ‘I wish I knew what was happening,’ he said, ‘but I know you have to go. Please, take care of yourself, and of Nicola. She’s still your mum.’

  I hugged him as tightly as I could and forced myself to give my son a cheery wave through the window. Then, with tears almost blinding me, I made my way towards the Range Rover.

  I fumbled the key into the ignition and, without another backward glance, drove away.

  I feel as if my heart has been ripped out, but I don’t have time to pull over and give in to the pain. I’m trying hard to concentrate, because I haven’t driven on these roads since that fateful day when I met the boy from the courier’s office. He was so kind, so gentle with me when he realised how little I knew of the world outside Lakeside, and I’ll never forget how I felt when he kissed me. I wonder what he thought when I never went back?

  Although I followed Mum yesterday along this same route, the only thing I was looking at was the back of her car. Today, everything seems different, and I don’t recognise the new houses, a factory and a roundabout that I’m sure weren’t here last time I drove along this road. At least while I’m fretting about finding my way, I don’t have the space in my head to worry about what I’ll do when I get there.

  The last couple of miles are through open countryside with no distractions, and that’s when the enormity of what I’m about to do hits me. I’m going back to the house in which my every action was controlled, every thought examined, and I feel as if I am being dragged into a vortex, spinning out of control as I head towards its centre. It’s making me dizzy.

  I want to pull the car over and catch my breath, but the later I am the more likely it is that Aram will be watching for Dad’s return. If he looks out of the window, I need him to believe it’s Dad coming back with the car. He’ll lose interest then; Dad’s whereabouts, once he’s safely inside, are of no concern to him. I force my foot to stay on the accelerator. I can pause to think when the car is safely at the back of the house, out of sight.

  The gates suddenly loom in front of me. I don’t have to get out to open them, though. Dad explained that electric gates have long since replaced the chain and padlock, and they are opened either from inside the house or with the remote inside the car. I click the button, and the gates part in front of me, slowly, laboriously, heavily. I stare down the long drive, and I can almost feel those ice-grey eyes piercing the air. My heart thuds.

  There’s a clunk as the gates stop moving, and I have to go, to drive over the threshold into the grounds, not knowing how I will ever get out again. But as the gates automatically close behind me, I look at the remote, still clasped in my damp fingers, and I push it into the pocket of my jeans.

  I drive st
raight around the back and into the garage. Dad has left the doors open. I know the sensible thing would be to close them, but I’m struggling to find the strength to get out of the car. Every second I expect to see an ominous shadow blocking the light streaming through the gaping doorway. But Aram doesn’t come.

  I clamp my lips together to stop them from trembling. If he sees me, I don’t know what he’ll do, although I know he’ll make me suffer. I’ll be forced to listen as he tears me to shreds for what I’ve done, but it isn’t Aram’s words that I fear. It’s his eyes – their strength as they pull me in, their ability to make me forget everything that happened the minute I leave his presence. I know it’s a combination of suggestion, obedience and conditioning that causes this trance-like state, and I tell myself he can’t do it to me now. I’m too strong, and his will can’t break me like it used to. It’s what I have to believe.

  I lean my head back on the headrest and think of everything I need to do to secure the future for me and Alfie – and now Dad too. I have to destroy the evidence that Aram believes will send me to prison for life.

  Much as I try to focus on the future and what has to be done, nothing can change the events that have brought me to this moment, and as the memories flood back, I shiver. In the weeks that followed the night I was due to escape with Leah, Aram kept me by his side day and night. I told no one what had happened, and passed from one day to the next as if in a dream – no longer believing in him but unable to shake myself free. I caught people looking at me from time to time and was convinced they knew what I had done. But perhaps they just wondered why I rarely spoke, not realising that I was scared to open my mouth in case I blurted out the truth.

  Now I have to confront what happened and face up to what I have been running from. Try as I might to block it from my mind, it haunts my nights and fills me with a crushing guilt.

  LAKESIDE

  The dark night settled around me like a thick blanket as I slowly made my way down towards the river. I wanted to stop, to turn back, to run to the house before it was too late, but I knew I couldn’t.

  Leah was waiting for me exactly where she said she’d be. When she heard the crunch of my feet on the shingle along the water’s edge, she must have thought I was alone. ‘India! I’m so glad you’ve come.’ She rushed towards me to grab my hands in hers.

  Then she saw Aram standing behind me. Her eyes went to my face, and I felt myself flush with shame. I knew I should have said nothing to him, even if I had decided not to leave with her. My only defence was that I was just twenty years old, and she was going to tear apart the only world I knew. It was a poor excuse.

  I felt Aram’s hands on my shoulders. ‘Leave us, India.’

  With one last look at Leah, I bowed my head and turned back towards the house. Blinded as I was by my tears and the impenetrable blackness of the night, I could still make out a lighter patch at the side of the path – a figure, standing alone, watching. I knew it was my mother. I stumbled past, ignoring her.

  I could hear shouting behind me, and wondered what Aram was saying. He was bound to make Leah suffer – to ensure that she left with her confidence shattered – and I didn’t want to witness her degradation. But when a scream pierced the night air, I stopped dead.

  Silence.

  I tried to fool myself into believing it was the pained cry of a fox, but I had to be sure. I spun on my heel and ran, stumbling, back along the path. Not to the house, but towards Leah.

  I shouldn’t have turned; I should have carried on, as Aram had demanded. If I had, everything would have been different.

  62

  ‘Rob, what have you got?’

  Rob had been tasked with accompanying the local force to interview the driver.

  ‘The car’s been under surveillance since the hire company gave us the GPS coordinates. It stopped at a B and B, and the driver – IC3 male, middle-aged, tall, white hair – lifted a small boy from the back seat. I checked the photo I’ve got on my phone of Alfie Porter, and it’s definitely him. No sign of Martha. They went into the B and B, but came out five minutes ago, and they’re off towards the beach. We’ve got eyes on him – he’s not going to get away. How would you like us to proceed?’

  ‘We’ve got no choice. You’ll have to talk to him, but try to do it without making a song and dance. Ask the locals to stay in the background in case he decides to leg it. Martha Porter’s father is black, mid-forties, so it could be him. On the other hand, this guy may have abducted the child for all we know. We can’t make any assumptions.’

  ‘I don’t think so. The child seems okay with him, at least, he’s not kicking off.’

  ‘We need him to tell us where Martha is. And Rob, that child is old enough to know something’s wrong. I know you’ll handle it sensitively, so make sure you’re the one to do the talking.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll get back to you.’

  Tom ended the call and didn’t speak for a couple of minutes, his eyes drawn to the passing countryside. This part of Lincolnshire was a bit too flat for his liking, but pretty nonetheless.

  ‘I think we should stick to the plan and go to Lakeside, unless we learn something different from Rob. How far away are we?’

  ‘Thirty minutes.’

  Tom and Becky fell silent again, each lost in their own thoughts. Five minutes later Tom’s mobile rang again.

  ‘Yes, Rob. How did it go?’

  ‘You were right. The man is Joel Kalu. He has his driving licence with him. India Kalu – or Martha Porter, as we know her – is his daughter. Until today, he hadn’t seen Martha since she left home before Alfie was born, and it was a complete surprise when she turned up. I’ve no reason to doubt he’s telling the truth. He thinks she’s in trouble. She’s told him there’s something she has to do, and she has to do it now, today. It’s something to do with Aram Forakis, he thinks.’

  ‘Does he know where she is now?’

  ‘She’s taken his Range Rover. He said she was planning to go to Lakeside but her nerves might get the better of her. She might be too scared.’

  ‘Scared of what?’

  ‘He wouldn’t say. He said it was too difficult to understand. I said “Try me” but he just shook his head. He doesn’t have a mobile phone – never has, apparently – but I think we need to keep an eye on him in case he goes to her, or she turns up here.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll sort that. You get yourself and Jenny to the local station so you’re ready to interview her. We’ll get her now. I’m certain of it.’

  Tom hung up. Martha had left her child and was running again, but they were close behind. Her every action spoke of guilt, but what exactly was she guilty of?

  63

  MARTHA

  I can’t sit out here in the garage for much longer. I’m wasting time. I think about the layout of the house. Aram has his meditation room at the back with floor-to-ceiling windows facing east into the garden. He may have seen the car heading for the garage, but he wouldn’t have been able to make out who was driving. From the garage I can get round the west side of the house without being seen, unless he’s at an upstairs window.

  Aram’s private rooms are at the front, but I don’t know where my mother sleeps now. He occupied a whole wing of the house, with his main bedroom and bathroom plus a study, a sitting room, and two other bedrooms for the women who were currently in favour. I occupied one of those rooms on and off for the last three years of my time here, and I’m fervently hoping I don’t have to venture there. The memories would overwhelm me.

  It’s late morning. Mum will be in the kitchen preparing lunch. I don’t know if I’ll have time to talk to her, to persuade her, before Aram comes through to eat, but for now that will have to wait.

  Indecision is not helpful. The police will be getting closer, and they are bound to come here. I don’t want it to end like this. I don’t want them to find me here.

  I push open the car door and climb out. I’ll have to go into the house. It’s what I came to do, but it’s h
arder than I thought. I close my eyes and think of Alfie’s face, laughing, happy, free from the fear that holds me captive. Then I move. I creep out through the back of the garage, past the outhouses and round to the west side of the house. I either have to go in through the kitchen, and risk Mum being there, or through the front door. It seems like the better option.

  Keeping close to the wall, I duck beneath the windows in case someone is inside, looking out. Dad told me the house is empty except for Mum and Aram, but maybe he was wrong.

  I gently push the door ajar, remembering that when it gets to half open it creaks. I slither through the gap and into the hall. Immediately the memories bombard me as I breathe in the unique smell that is Lakeside – the slight mustiness that we never quite got rid of, overlaid by incense wafting from the meditation room each time the door opens. I expect to hear the sound of people moving between the rooms, speaking quietly to each other, the occasional cough, the gentle closing of a door, but not a sound disturbs the stillness. My senses are alert, drawing me in, almost convincing me that this is home.

  I shake my head. No. This is not my home, and I have a job to do.

  With every bone in my body I want to turn and run away from this place. But I don’t. My legs feel weak, as if they can barely support me as I creep across the hall and head for the stairs to begin my search for the evidence that Aram held over me for the last months of my life at Lakeside, and ever since. I tiptoe up the staircase, keeping close to the wall to avoid the groaning of old wood. I don’t know where to start looking. Can I face Aram’s bedroom, a room that for years I visited all too often? I can’t bear the thought.

  I should have searched before, when I lived here. But I was too broken, and it had seemed easier to abide by his rules. If I hadn’t become pregnant I would still be here, living my life as he demanded, a hostage to the devil that is Aram Forakis.

 

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