by S P Dawes
“Nick?” she asked, confused. Looking away, realisation dawned on her. If only it had been Nick, it sure as hell wouldn’t have been as disruptive as it had been. “You probably shouldn’t be here,” she mumbled, knowing too well Caitlyn would not take kindly to him visiting her.
Rob ignored her concern and took another sip. “What time you in?”
“Eleven-thirty.”
“You met my bro then?” Rob sounded chirpier to be talking about something else.
“Yep, he brought me back,” sighed Hayley.
An awkward silence fell, and she wasn’t sure what he thought might have happened between them, not that she should concern herself, but he was his brother. “He left after he had checked the locks, windows and stuff.”
Rob nodded. He already knew; Jesse had told him last night when he’d gone round for a drink. “Look, I really need a shower; I appreciate you coming, but I’m fine.”
Rob took a mouthful of coffee, then set it down on the table and rose from the seat.
“Make sure you eat,” he warned, looking at the untouched food he’d brought.
Hayley nodded. She didn’t get up, just wrapped her fingers around her mug and listened to Rob leave before pulling away in the car. The curtains stood open from last night, so she watched the birds in the trees across the road. They looked happy, little souls bobbing in and out of the branches. Not a care in the world.
Looking towards the croissants on the table, she picked one up, shoving one end in her mouth. Walking through to the bathroom, she passed the stairs landing. Setting her mug on the windowsill, she took another bite of the croissant before turning the dial on the shower.
Water rushed out, and she held her hand under it, freezing, knowing that by the time she had undressed it would have heated. Slipping out of her clothes, still eating, she put the rest in her mouth before stepping in. Allowing the warm water to hit her face, she enjoyed the sensation, releasing the tension.
She hadn’t checked in the mirror, but she knew from experience and Rob’s take on it, that she looked awful. Her eyelids always blew up twice the size when she cried that hard and then slept straight after. Added to that, it was still early, and she felt exhausted from the emotional roller coaster that happened yesterday. She thought make-up might be in order today, just to disguise and possibly get away without resembling an extra from the walking dead.
Running her hands over her body with the fruity shower gel she felt the scars. Not needing to look, they were a constant reminder of something she’d rather forget.
Raised out of her skin like mini eruptions, they deformed her and made every relationship she came close to being intimate in tainted. But then that was their function. She could hide the scars on the inside, ignore them, and sometimes even forget. Plaster a smile on and no one saw fit to question. She didn’t want to be a survivor, because that meant at some point, she’d been a victim, weak, pathetic and abused. It reminded her of how tarnished, ruined, and broken she was. Her future wouldn’t involve a husband and kids because who would see past her frailties? Why was her mind whisking her to family? She laughed at herself and turned the water off.
Climbing out, she turned the dial fully, grabbing a towel off the rail. Wrapping it around her, she felt a cool breeze, thinking it was probably the cool apartment as her shower had been as hot as she could bare. She walked out of the bathroom and made her way to her room. Feeling faint, she sat on the end of the bed, wrapped only in her towel. Hayley liked the sense of her heart beating fast in her ears; she knew she was still alive. But really, if she was going to have the shower that hot, she’d maybe have to rethink her strategy. Her entire body felt heavy, and all energy dissipated. Falling on the bed, she raised her arms above her head and concentrated on regulating her breathing pattern to calm her blood pressure. Just then her hand touched something cold.
Sitting up, pulling the towel tighter around herself, she inspected the knife. It had a brown, worn wooden handle with a jagged blade. Standing up, she made her way into the living room opposite. Nothing out of place, no additions there. She didn’t feel like anyone was there. Walking over to the kitchen, she checked it was empty. She couldn’t understand it. Why would she have a knife on her bed? She tried to remember if someone had given her one last night, for protection, then discounted that, why would somebody give her a blade to sleep with?
Running downstairs, she realised the chain hung loosely, and the lock hadn’t clicked properly. Had Rob made a mistake when he left and not pulled it enough to catch? Had he done it on purpose? Why would he want to scare her? Had Caitlyn followed him? Why would she leave a weapon?
Hayley’s head swirled once again. No! It was a mishap, otherwise she’d send herself crazy. She’d just have to make sure she checked, pull the chain across like Jesse had said. Jesse, maybe he had given her it as protection, and she’d forgotten.
Hayley tried to rationalise and think if anyone meant to hurt her; sure, she’d be a psycho mess in the bathroom by now, if that was the case. She was certain her landlord wasn’t into dressing like his mother, but the thought brought a smile to her face as she imagined it. She’d been watching too many late-night scary movies, recently. Walking back into her bedroom, she dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a pink t-shirt. Drying her hair with the towel, she then whipped it up into a loose bun with a single hairband. Remembering her coffee in the bathroom, she opened the door. Picking it up off the sill, she returned it to the kitchen, dumping it in the sink, catching Rob’s mug on the way.
A text pinged. Picking it up from the table, she opened the message up. Rob.
‘Need you in work ASAP,’
Hayley groaned, she really didn’t feel like going into today, let alone doing it early. Looking at the clock, she text him back.
‘OK, getting the next bus, be about half an hour,’
Hayley grabbed the other croissant whilst placing her phone in her pocket. Finding her wallet from her jeans in the bathroom, she grabbed her keys off the side. Running downstairs, she pulled the door shut, hearing it click. She’d have to get a move on to make the next bus to Elston. Running, stopping now and then to take a breath, and checking her phone for the time, she spied the coach pulling up. When she rounded the corner, thankfully, a queue of three stood waiting. Hurrying to catch up to them before it pulled away, she took a seat at the front. If they needed her in, it may be because they’d only just found out they had a large party and it would be all hands-on deck. Her head continued to pound; she should really have popped some ibuprofen.
Bursting in the locker room, out of breath, she noticed all the chef’s stood round the coat hooks in their civvies. Looking from one to the other expectantly.
Ash stepping forward announced, “There’s been a robbery last night, they’ve taken money out of the tills and broken into the lockers…”
Hayley glanced to her own locker; it was battered.
Walking over to it, Ash stepped in her way. “We’ve been told not to touch. Did you have anything valuable in it?”
Hayley shook her head.
“OK, well now we’re all here, they want us upstairs.”
“The filth,” said Rob quietly, noticing her confusion, as he moved towards her to exit the changing area. Hayley swallowed hard. The last thing she needed was to be talking to the police.
Following the other Chef’s upstairs, Hayley felt nervous. She couldn’t work out why being spoken to by the police made her so jumpy. It wasn’t as if they would find out about her. She’d made sure of that a while ago. It just felt too close for comfort.
A plain-clothed police officer walked out of the dining room with his notebook in one hand and a pen in the other. “OK, ladies and gents, I’m Detective Constable Richard Wynne. I’m going to take you back in there one at a time. I need your names, addresses, phone numbers, and a brief description of where you were last night.” They all looked to one another and Ash nodded as he followed the Detective inside the dining room. A few minutes
later he walked out and made his way over to the waitresses congregated outside the juice bar further down the corridor. Ben went next. Every minute that went by made Hayley more anxious.
Walking into the dining room, she saw the expanse of the gardens through the enormous windows.
The roughly plastered orange walls resembled a Moroccan theme whilst an immense cast iron fireplace gave the room a sense of regality.
Sitting down on the dining chair, set out in front of him, Hayley watched him write something down before looking up to see who’d taken the seat Sam had vacated a few seconds earlier.
“Can I have your name, please?” He asked after clearing his throat and scanning her from top to toe.
Hayley told him her details and then tried to look composed even though her heart was beating almost hard enough to leap out of her chest.
“Where were you last night?”
“I went to Rob’s house.” He nodded as though he already knew and just needed it confirming, which allowed Hayley to breathe a little easier.
“I heard you left early?” He asked, raising one of his eyebrows as he waited for her to answer. Hayley nodded, looking away from his disconcerting stare.
“Who did you leave with?”
Hayley’s body began to overheat. Last night had left her with a bad feeling in her gut, and she still wasn’t sure how to proceed. Could she carry on with her life or would she have to move to ensure he never found her? All it took was for Rob or Caitlyn to tell him where she was living. While she trusted Rob, Caitlyn was a different story and there was no telling whether Rob would inadvertently give Caitlyn her address. Could she tell him to keep it quite without raising suspicion?
“Miss?”
“Sorry. I left with Jesse Hallam.” The officer made a hmm noise and scribbled something on his pad. Closing his book, he looked back up, suspicious. “That name rings a bell.”
Hayley worried she’d got messed up in something. The police knowing the guy’s name did not bode well. Shrugging nervously, she watched the detective mull it over before deciding he needed no more from her.
Standing outside in the hall; Hayley glanced up the corridor where the waitresses were still mingling, laughing and joking. Rob stood with his arm flung over Caitlyn’s shoulder, while Caitlyn bore holes in her soul.
Just then Head Chef walked downstairs from the offices above and motioned them all to listen. Telling them all how they were going to go ahead and what they would require of them over the next few days.
Colin smiled and looked around to make sure everyone understood before leaving to speak with one of the detectives who was wandering around.
“Right, well, I’m off!” Said Ash, clapping his hands together. “Do you want a lift?” He asked, looking at Hayley.
Thanking him, she followed him downstairs through the locker room, out into the car park. His car, a silver sierra saloon, parked at the front, flashed as he tapped his key. Getting in, Ash put the radio on. Lincs FM came on, a pop song played, she smiled, thinking he didn’t seem the type to listen to pop music.
Tapping his fingers to the beat on the steering wheel, he waited for a break in the traffic to cross the junction. “What’s going on with you and Rob?”
Startled, Hayley couldn’t believe he’d asked such a question. “Nothing.”
Ash looked at her doubtfully, raising an eyebrow. “So, why’s Caitlyn spinning on her axis?”
Hayley shrugged, she wished she knew herself. She needed to set it right, put her straight.
“I can’t fathom you out.”
Hayley glanced at him, waiting while he checked both sides of the road, like a manic game of ping pong.
“You’ve come in all meek and mild, yet two months in and you’re the centre of attention.” Hayley really wished she wasn’t. “I don’t understand it. The only explanation I can come with is you’re secretly stirring the shit pot.”
Hayley didn’t know how to answer. “I’m not stirring any pot; I just want to do my job.”
Ash looked at her again and then pulled out across the road. “Good.” He answered, allowing a few minutes of silence before adding, “keep your head down, do your job and it’ll blow over soon enough,” more caring than accusing this time, she just nodded before looking away from him.
Dropping her at the bus stop, she walked the rest of the way home, imagining herself crawling back into bed. Maybe she’d even set the TV up in her bedroom with a DVD and have a lazy day.
As she rounded the corner towards her apartment, she noticed a group of youths hanging by her door, laughing, and pointing camera phones, joking around. Something had their interest. Marching up to her apartment, her approach panicked them and they all scarpered.
On her door, in red paint, read the words, ‘slut’. Reaching out she touched the S; her hand came away tacky. She’d have to get it off before the neighbours saw it, more attention she didn’t need.
Searching for the key to her front door, she noticed the door slide open without her touching it. A rush of panic flowed through her veins. Tentatively making her way upstairs, she pushed the living room door open. Standing in shock, her heart beating fast from the scene in front of her, she tried to compose herself. The smell gagged her. Someone had been in her sanctuary and tipped emulsion everywhere. A sea of red, nothing remained untouched. Turning to her bedroom, she swung the door open. They had pulled the quilt on the floor, but no paint. The knife was missing.
Rushing to the bathroom, she saw a doll floating face down. Picking it up, its hair dripped as she turned it over. Its eyes were missing. Dropping it back into the water, she shook.
What did all this mean? None of it made any sense. Was it a message or a threat? Had they found her?
Running downstairs, she ran outside, taking in a lungful of fresh air. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she rang the police. There was no getting away from it. She had to report this. An hour later they arrived, to see her hugging her legs to her chest on the doorstep, rocking.
“Sorry it took so long, we’ve had a busy morning,” holding out his hand to her, she took it, “I’m DC David Turner and this is DC Adam Hancock.”
She stood as DC Turner helped her up. “They’ve sent detectives?” She queried.
“Like I said, busy morning, you’re honoured. So, what’s happened?” He asked, glancing at the door. “Old boyfriend?”
Hayley shook her head.
“Anyone, you can think of, who would want to do this?”
“No.” She knew someone, but she had no proof and the last thing she needed was the police digging around. “They’ve been inside too,” she said.
The detective and his colleague pushed the door open after pulling rubber gloves out of their pockets. Steadily, they made their way up the stairs. “Have you touched anything, Miss?” He shouted downstairs.
“No! Just the doors,” then she remembered, “and the doll!”
The detectives walked tentatively around the scene in the living room. DC Turner took notes while the younger one snapped pictures on his phone. “Someone’s got it in for her, that’s for sure,” acknowledged DC Turner.
“Right bloody mess! What do you think it is? A warning, perhaps? Or just an act of destruction?” Hinted DC Hancock.
DC Turner shook his head, trying to make sense of it, before noticing the TV magazine. Showing the younger officer, he took a photograph and then the older one copied it down in his notebook. DC Turner wandered around the apartment and noted things of interest. He’d need confirmation from the owner later, but she looked too shaken to re-enter at the minute, so he carried on noting items down and drawing his colleague to it for more pictures.
Entering the bathroom, he saw the water and the doll she’d spoken about earlier. Had she moved it? He wondered what position it had been in when she had seen it; lying on its back now with its eyes missing.
Looking around, he noted how small and tidy the place was. He could see clothes on the floor, probably belonging to th
e young lady outside. Nothing else seemed out of place. His colleague walked in when he exited to take more photos.
“Well, it’s weird!” DC Hancock exclaimed.
“Tell me about it,” he sighed, tapping his pen on the notepad. “Something’s off,” he looked at his partner coming out of the bathroom.
“It doesn’t feel right,” Hancock nodded in agreement. “Why trash a house in red paint and then stick an eyeless doll in the bath?”
“That bed wants testing just in case you know; he got a little too excited at the prospect.”
“Are you thinking it’s a spurned lover?”
DC Turner shrugged, but they were both thinking the same thing.
Heading back downstairs, they saw Hayley pacing the pavement outside. “I can understand your shock; it’s not a pretty sight is it?”
She shook her head.
“We found a mobile number on a T. V mag; do you know whose it is?”
Hayley thought about the officer at work. He’d recognised the name. If she told them there had been a criminal in her apartment, then they’d just blame him. She was sure he wouldn’t have done it, why would he, he’d tried to ensure her safety.
“Miss, the number?” She blinked, they would find out anyway, all they had to do was check who registered it. Unless it had been a burner, then she didn’t owe him a damn thing.
“It’s Jesse’s,” she answered, embarrassed.
“Jesse?” Leaving the question in the air.
“Hallam.” Both police officers exchanged a look. They knew him too.
Her heart sank; this could only go one way.
“How do you know Hallam?” asked DC Turner.
“Does it matter?” She sighed. She could sense the officer stiffen at her obtuseness.
“It may help us with our enquiries, so if you don’t mind.”
Hayley bit her lip, looking from one to the other. “I don’t really know him. He just brought me home the other night. That’s why he left his number, so I could get in contact with him if I needed to.”