by Serena Lyons
It takes all my self not to slam my fist into his pathetic face again, but I manage to resist the urge. “And where’s the dining room?”
“Second door on the left.” He answers, then starts moving, as if he’s about to get out of the car.
“Lie back down.” I push him down firmly. “There’s no way you’re coming with us and trying to fight with him.” I slam the boot again and tell Nina to turn on the central locking.
“Let’s be as quiet as we can on the approach.” I tell Axel. “And thanks for doing this, I’m really sorry about earlier. I should have known it would be this weasel.” I kick the back of the car.
“It’s fine.” He glances back to Nina. “Call us even now.”
I nod. This isn’t the time to try to unpick exactly what happened there. Nina said he didn’t hurt her in any way, and that’s the most important thing.
The property is on a country road at the edge of a village. It’s surrounded by a thick green hedge that almost double my height. I peek around the entrance to the plot. The house is quintessentially Cotswolds, large stone walls, creeping plants climbing past small windows with loads of panes. It doesn’t look like the scene of a kidnapping. And there are no cars on the driveway.
“Damn,” I whisper, then turn to Axel. “Let’s sneak over and see if there are any open doors or windows, if not let’s smash one in the back.”
He nods, and I run to the front door. I turn the handle as gently as I can, I don’t want to alert Phillip to the fact we’re here. It’s locked. None of the front windows appear to be open either, and it seems foolish to dawdle too long here where passer-bys could see us acting suspiciously.
I race around the back of the building, wincing as I pass a boarded over window. If Rafe was telling the truth that’s where they kept Nina and maybe now Faith.
The backdoor is locked, but it’s one of those old-fashioned ones with glass on the upper half and I can see the key in the lock on the other side. Looks like Phillip isn’t exactly the brains of Britain. I yank off my jumper. Fuck not alerting him that we’re here, I need to get to Faith as soon as I can.
“Hold this over that pane.” I tell Axel.
He moves quickly and I imagine it’s both Rafe and Phillip that I’m hitting as I punch through. The glass tinkles as it hits the kitchen floor and Axel removes my jumper to reveal an almost pristine hole. I press out to final shards of glass stuck in the frame—my slicing my wrists open wouldn’t help me save Faith—then unlock the door.
Disappointment hits me as soon as I enter the house. It’s too quiet and still. Phillip can’t be here or else he’d be reacting to the noise I made breaking in. I stride through the kitchen and take the first door on the right. It must lead to the boarded-up dining room. Maybe he’s left Faith in there while he does whatever weird shit psychopaths have to do.
The key is in the lock, but the door opens without me needing to turn it. That is enough to confirm my suspicion that it’s going to be empty.
“Goddamit!” I yell as I illuminate a room that’s empty apart from a dark wood dining table. The chair at the head of the table has rope tied around its legs and I walk over stroking the place where Faith must have been so recently.
“Where are you, sweetheart?” I whisper, while Axel hangs back at the door.
Then I see it; the big, congealed patch of drying blood on the faded carpet. In the exact position that someone in this chair would have landed.
Rage boils inside of me and I kick the wall. I’m too late for Faith. He’s already hurt her. When I find the bastard, he’ll wish he was dead.
48: Faith
I’m in something that’s moving. My stomach feels queasy from the motion, but I can’t open my eyes. Everything feels so heavy. Pictures flit in and out of my mind.
Phillip. He drugged me. He wants to kill me.
Terror somehow seems to get my mind thinking more clearly.
I force my eyes open. I’m in the back of the van again, but this time I’m not blindfolded. My eyelids feel like they have weights hanging off them, but I force myself to keep them open. I can’t see through to the front cab and it’s dark back here, but my eyes slowly become accustomed to the half-light.
As I slowly come around, I realise I’m not fully bound this time. I pat myself to double check, there’s only rope around my legs. Then my hands fly to the back of my jeans, hoping for to find my penknife.
Fuck, it’s not there. I had it in my hand when he drugged me and I must have dropped it. Or he found it. Which means he’s going to expect me to fight him whatever happens next.
I push myself to an upright position against the side of the van.
He hasn’t taken my snacks though. I pull them out of my front pocket, stuff it under my jacket and slowly rip open the packet, hoping that’ll be enough to muffle the sound.
I don’t feel hungry, but food might work the drugs out of my system more quickly. And I don’t want to run out of energy when I fight him later.
The cereal bar is unbearably dry, but I manage to force it down. Then I hide the wrapper and try to think what they hell to do. It must be at least early evening by now. It’s definitely sometime in the night given there’s no light coming into the van. I hope it’s not three am. One of my biggest chances of survival will be someone noticing something suspicious.
He must be taking me back to Oxford. It where everyone I live, so it won’t raise any questions if I’m found there, and there are plenty of high buildings… Oh God, just the thought makes me feel sick right to the bottom of my soul.
I can’t even begin to process everything else he said about my Mam, about Millie, about me being their illegitimate sister. It’s too insane. I need to focus on staying alive, and then I can start processing all of that shit.
The car slows and my heartbeat accelerates. Is this it?
There’s a funny, gassy smell. Then metal hitting the car and a rhythmic pumping. He’s filling up the petrol. We must be at a service station. There should be people around, this could be my chance of escape.
I bum shuffle to the back of the boot. Why didn’t I think of trying to escape earlier? I could kick myself, frigging stuffing my face when I could have been in prime position to jump out as soon as we stopped. I pat down the area all around where the two doors join, but there’s no way to open the back from the inside.
If only we lived in one of those places you sometimes see in the movies, where an actual attendant fills up your car. Then I could bang and scream for help. But the only person who’s probably close to the car right now is Phillip, and it’s better he doesn’t know I’m awake and scheming how to get away from him.
Suddenly I remember hearing about a kidnapped girl in the States who managed to alert other drivers to the fact she was hidden in a boot by fiddling with brake lights and doing the SOS signal in morse code. Or by breaking them and waving her hand out from the back.
For five seconds a burst of excitement rushes through me—I have a plan!—but it quickly becomes clear that this ‘kidnapped girl’ is either an urban myth or an engineer. God knows how you could rewire brake lights in the dark when you’re panicking as much as I am.
I’m trapped.
I’m going to die tonight.
I’m never going to see Gran again. Or Callum. Hot tears well in my eyes.
Fuck it, I can’t just give up. There must be something I can do.
I squint in the dark, desperate to find some sort of weakness in my cage. Maybe I can kick the brake light out.
“That little trick was a damn stupid idea.” He scowls then purses up his mouth to spit. It lands next to me, thank God.
“I don’t know, it seemed pretty smart to me.” We’re getting to the end of the road. I’m not going to play the meek victim anymore.
“Yeah, well, it didn’t work.” He wrinkles his nose, like I smell bad. “Seems like I got all the brains in the ‘family’.”
Maybe some thinking about Cal and Grandma?
Did you drug me?
You won’t get away with this.
Really?
49: Callum
“He’s going to hurt her.” I eventually stop kicking the wall and stare at Axel, willing him to tell me I’m being silly, that we can save her. “And there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I haven’t got a fucking clue where the hell they are.”
I swing back to kick the wall again, but I’m still half looking at Axel, and I somehow lose my balance. It’s not a bad fall, I get my arms out to brace myself, years of rugby means it’s an instinctive reaction to me. I’m about to jump back up, when I spot it; a crumpled sheet of paper on the floor at the other end of the table.
I run over.
“I don’t know what to say, mate.”
I only vaguely hear Axel’s words and I grab the paper. Please let it mean something.
“Maybe we can ask Rafe to call Phillip, see if he’ll…”
I stop listening as I unfold the paper and see Faith’s distinctive handwriting, identical to that essay we made her write. I quickly skim her words, needing to figure out what the hell it means before I labour over every choice of word.
It’s a fucking suicide note. He’s planning on doing it again.
There’s no fucking way he’s harming Faith. I have to stop him.
Thank God the clue I need is right here on this note; ‘I have to jump’. He’s going to try to push her off something.
“Come on,” I yell at Axel. “We need to get back to Oxford. Now!”
“What is that?” He follows me back out of the house. not even bothering to close the back door. “Shouldn’t we see if there’s anything else in the house that might be useful?”
“This is a suicide note.” My breath catches in my throat as I say the words. “That talks about her jumping off something. It must be somewhere in Oxford.”
“Why Oxford?”
We’re out on the street now, Nina is pacing by the car, her head bent. “Because he needs it to look like a proper suicide, if she was found somewhere else it would raise questions. Come on, we can talk in the car.”
Nina’s face pales as she turns and sees us sprinting towards her. She fumbles with the driver’s door.
“I’m driving, get in the passenger seat.” I shout and she runs around to the other side. I accelerate as soon as Nina and Axel are in the car, before any of us have a chance to fasten our seatbelts and speed towards the motorway, swinging around the bends on the quiet country lanes. Rafe must be getting thrown about in the boot, but frankly, I don’t give a damn.
“What’s happening? What did you guys find in there?” Nina’s voice is high with panic.
“A suicide note,” Axel answers first. “That talks about jumping off something. Cal thinks it’ll be a building in Oxford.”
“A suicide note? Oh God.” Nina lifts a hand to her mouth. “Faith… she… I can’t…”
“We’ll get there in time to stop him.” I tell her, hoping my words don’t sound as hollow as they feel. I’m going too fast to be able to comfort her properly. And much as I hate to admit it, my little sister’s feelings are not even close to being my number one priority right now. “But we need a plan. One of you read this, we might be missing something.” I pick the crumpled paper up from my lap and wave it above the gear stick.
Nina reads it out, her voice thick with tears. I feel guilty for bringing her along to all of this, but there’s no way I could have left her alone. She reads the letter twice, but the only useful clue is the point about jumping.
“Millie’s dad is Faith’s? Do you think she knew already?” Nina’s voice is calmer all of a sudden. I risk a glance over and Axel’s broad hand is resting on her shoulder, drawing circles on her with his long fingers. I file that away as something else that I can maybe show some interest in later. If we’re successful.
“I don’t think Faith knew. Or Millie, but that’s not what matters now. Where could he take her to ‘jump’?”
“I’ll google Oxford’s tallest buildings.” Axel says. “Any idea what kind of height you’d need to push someone from to make sure they don’t survive?”
I grip the steering wheel tighter before answering. He’s just trying to be helpful. He’s not intentionally sounding like an emotionless commentator. “I don’t know, above three stories at least?”
“Or it could be one of the bridges,” Nina adds in almost a whisper. “The river’s freezing at this time of year.”
“Fuck, there’s going to be like twenty places to look at.” I slam my fist on the horn, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
“It won’t be a bridge,” Axel interrupts from the back seat, sounding as sure as a gambler convinced only his course can win.
“Alright, Sherlock, what makes you so sure of that?” I snap.
“It’ll be too busy. It’s bonfire night, innit? The bridges have some of the best views of the fireworks.”
“You’re a genius!” For the first time tonight, it seems like a bit of luck is going our way. “Okay so what tall buildings do you have?”
“I’ve got a list of the top five here; Carfax Tower, St Mary’s, St Michael’s, Tom Tower at Christ Church and Magdalen Tower.”
“Five’s not bad, we can get through five quickly.” I’m on the motorway now and accelerate up to one hundred.
“I’ve got a list of a completely different set of ten buildings.” Nina’s voice trails off at the end.
“Name them.” I demand.
She reads them off quickly.
“Damn, I’ve never even heard of half of them.” The tightness returns to my chest.
“It’s got the years they were built too, loads are from the sixties or seventies.”
“Let’s strike off the modern ones then, I reckon Phillip will be too snobby to think of them.” I hope I sound definite, but inside I have no idea if I’m condemning Faith to death with my cocksure pronouncement about a man I barely know.
“Make the colleges a lower priority,” Axel chips in from the back. “He’ll never be able to sneak Faith past the porters.”
“Thank God for xxx porters.” I never thought I’d be pleased about their nosy ways. “So, let’s try Carfax then the churches? We’re ten minutes from town.”
I screech to a stop on the double yellow lines at the bottom of Cornmarket.
“Move to the driver’s seat.” I order Nina. “You can drive us to St Mary’s if this isn’t it.”
Axel and I jump out of the car and sprint to the medieval tower. The door is locked and padlocked. There’s no way Faith and Phillip are inside, unless he moonlights as a caretaker for this tourist attraction, which I sincerely doubt.
Part of me wants to break the door down and race up to the roof just to make sure, but I can’t waste any time on unlikely chances. She’s not here and time is running out.
I run back to the car. “St Mary’s, now!” Please let me not be too late.
50: Faith
We stop again. I can’t hear anything outside of the car, so I don’t think we’re in the city center yet, assuming that’s where he’s taking me.
I have to jump. The words Phillip made me write send a shiver through my soul. I won’t do it.
Something tells me if I won’t, he’ll push me. I can’t let him take me somewhere high, I have to stop him before then.
The door opens. I glance out on the street, there’s no sign of anyone out there who I could yell to for help. Rafe throws in a roll of carpet, then jumps in next to me, just as I’m thinking the street is an odd place for him to have stopped. It’s a rundown row of terraces that look oddly familiar. That day I was running, when I saw Rafe on this street, then met Phillip on the bridge. Phillip must be living here and Rafe has been helping him. Callum will be distraught that his best friend has betrayed him so badly.
I shuffle away from him to the back of the van. Maybe I should have jumped out on to the street just now, screamed loud enough for someone to take notice.
“Now,
now, Faith, no need to look so scared. This will all be over very soon. And then you’ll get to see Millie again. Isn’t that what you’ve been searching for these past two years? A way to have her back?” He smiles at me, like he’s saying something nice.
He is insane, it’s clear why Lord Charrington didn’t want him to inherit the family title and estate.
He rolls out the carpet then curls his finger towards me. “Come here, Faith.”
“No.”
A flash of annoyance darkens his features. “You really are incredibly stubborn. Let me make it easier for you. If you don’t follow my orders, I’ll take revenge on your darling Grandmother once all of this is over.” He laughs. “It would be a mercy killing really, I’m not sure she’s going to cope with your death very well. Strange what people get attached to.”
I stop breathing momentarily. He can’t hurt Gran. She’s going to be destroyed enough as it is if his plan works. “How do I know I can trust you not to hurt her anyway?”
It strikes me that any delay is good, it gives my body time to work out the dregs of the drugs from my system and means Phillip is getting more tired and more likely to make a mistake.
“My word is not given lightly.” He says archly.
“Forgive me for checking, just people who murder their sister—sorry sisters—wouldn’t appear to be the most trustworthy individuals.”
“You are not my sister!”
“Funny that, seems like we’re treat the same in your father’s will. Oops I mean our father’s.” The whole idea feels xxx to me, but I can see it’s riling Phillip. Good, I want him angry enough to make mistakes.
“Shut the fuck up, or I’ll stab your Grandmother and enjoy watching her slowly bleed to death.”
I can’t speak. I can’t do anything but imagine by beautiful, selfless Gran in pain at the hands of this idiot, just like beautiful, sweet Millie was. That is never going to happen. I won’t let him win. But for now, I need to keep him on side.