But why was she here?
His eyes watched as she walked, cautiously, towards the main office at the back of the cemetery.
No, no, no!
He remembered then; the office door, he’d left it unlocked. He had planned to go back there before he left. Return the shovel to where he’d got it. Lock everything up. It was too late to stall her; the girl had already reached the doorway and looked around suspiciously before quietly slipping inside.
She was going to ruin everything. He needed to clean up, to put away the tools he’d used. To lock everything up. But now he’d have to wait it out. Wait for her to leave.
Crouching patiently on the ground, he tucked his freezing cold hands inside his sleeves. Losing track of time as he waited – all the time watching. He was starting to feel anxious. On edge. He needed to finish what he’d come here to do and the girl was hindering that.
Slowly, he got to his feet. There was only one thing for it.
He’d have to deal with this girl himself.
39
Someone was following her. She was sure of it.
Stopping outside the black metal Albert Gates of Battersea Park, Saskia turned.
Her eyes scanned the street. A row of cars standing in darkness. A sea of abstract shadows cast out from the street lamps above danced eerily on the pavement around her.
A noise. She’d definitely heard something. She jumped, hearing the loud high-pitched scream, but it was just an urban fox tearing open a rubbish sack as it rummaged through the contents that were now strewn across the street. Closing her eyes she cursed herself for allowing herself to feel so scared.
A night under the watchful gaze of Vincent Harper had turned her into a paranoid wreck. Her nerves set on edge; she was being overcautious, letting her mind play tricks on her.
She needed to pull herself together. Concentrate.
Reaching up she shook the gates – just in case – but she already knew that they would be locked. The council locked them every night, at ten thirty sharp. Supposedly to keep the scallywags out. The rebellious teenagers, gangs, the local waifs and strays. The gates weren’t much of a deterrent, she thought; if people wanted to get in they just climbed over. Which was exactly what Saskia was going to do.
Checking that the road was completely clear, Saskia pulled herself up onto the rubbish bin. It wobbled beneath her as she tilted her weight onto one leg, swinging the other up onto the bar. Carefully resting her foot between the gold ornate spikes, she kept her balance before pulling herself up.
It was like being at the club and working the pole. Twisting herself around the metal she was over the gate quickly. Dropping down onto the wet grass, her trainers squelched in the mud but she got to her feet knowing she’d have to run. She could get to the cemetery in under ten minutes by cutting through the park – less than half the time than if she’d walked all the way around.
She thought of Lena then and prayed that she’d still be waiting for her. She’d said three a.m., and it had already gone half past.
She’d been so shocked that morning when she’d gone into the bedroom to check on the girl, only to find Lena dressed in Misty’s clothes, her hair cut short, with her legs dangling out the window. Ready to make her escape.
Saskia had startled her but had seen the look on Lena’s face. Fear, pleading, then confusion when Saskia had told her that she wasn’t going to stop her from leaving; that she thought she was doing the right thing. That she should run. That she shouldn’t trust Vincent.
Saskia hadn’t told Misty about the exchange. Instead she’d calmly gone back into the kitchen and made them all a cup of tea, hoping to stall a bit of time before Vincent arrived so that Lena could get a head start.
Even earlier today, when she’d spotted ‘Lena’ in the underground – it had all been a ploy. She’d been throwing Misty and Vincent off Lena’s scent and making herself appear as if she had no motive not to find the girl.
Vincent had been harder to shake off than she had anticipated. Suspicious, he hadn’t taken his eyes off her all night.
Saskia was glad that she’d told Lena to wait for her after she’d finished her shift. It was only now, in the dead of night, that Saskia could get away without raising anyone’s suspicions. Greenwood Cemetery had seemed the ideal place. Tucked away out of view from the main road, Vincent would never think to look there.
Only, Saskia hadn’t factored in the heavy, incessant rain. The place had no real shelter, nowhere for Lena and Roza to keep dry and warm. Lena would have had no choice but to go somewhere else. Saskia just hoped that Lena had gone back there, for three a.m., like she had said. She needed to hurry though, as she was late. Running faster, she could just make out the outline of Greenwood Cemetery up ahead in the distance.
40
Standing outside the doorway Colin listened intently. The office was silent. He couldn’t hear a sound. No noise, no movement. The main light was still off too – the place in complete darkness.
The girl was definitely here though; he’d watched her go inside with his own eyes and he hadn’t seen her come back out.
What was she doing?
Curious now, Colin stood waiting for a few more minutes, unsure of what he should do. He couldn’t just leave her here. He needed to clear up after himself, to put the tools away that he’d used. Otherwise he’d start to arouse suspicions that he’d come back here at night. Then people might start asking questions and he couldn’t have that.
A thought crossed his mind then: what if the girl had seen him? Maybe she had and now she was hiding. He started to feel twitchy now. Irritated. The girl’s presence here was messing everything up.
He was going to have to go in there and see what she was doing.
Placing his shovel down, he leant the handle up against the wall before carefully tiptoeing inside the building. He knew his workspace off by heart.
Scanning through the darkness, he could just make out the outlines of the office furniture. The desk appeared untouched. The computer screen was still black, switched off. Piles of paperwork, the phone, the staff lockers all still neat. Organised.
Everything was exactly as Colin had left it earlier. Everything, apart from the far back corner.
His eyes looked down to where the pile of coats had been taken off the hooks on the wall and scattered across the cold floor tiles. For a second he thought his eyes were deceiving him. The coats moved. Then he spotted the girl beneath the pile. Blanketed under the sheet of darkness inside the makeshift bed she’d made for herself. She was curled up in the foetal position.
The brightness from the moon coming through the window above her, shining down on the girl’s face, left Colin transfixed.
She was already fast asleep.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was sleeping so peacefully, her eyelids fluttering; he wondered what thoughts were going around her head as she dreamed. What vivid images were flashing through her mind? A tiny frown appearing then, a deep crease etched just above the girl’s nose. A nightmare perhaps?
He couldn’t let her stay here. He should wake her, he thought. But what if he startled her? She might feel scared and start to scream. He’d have to be careful. Gentle, friendly.
He’d tell her that he’d been patrolling the cemetery. That she needed to leave.
That she was trespassing but he didn’t want any trouble. If she left quietly, he wouldn’t call the police. Scare tactics, but subtle. That should do it.
Stepping nearer, Colin leant towards the girl. Reaching out his hand to shake her, he stopped himself.
He stared at her, hard. She was so pretty. Doll like. In sleep, more so. Sweet perfection.
He was so caught up in the vision of the girl, the sudden screech that suddenly rang out in the room made him jump. Startled, Colin stepped back and hid behind the door, his heart pounding inside his chest.
Still the girl didn’t move. She was still fast asleep, her only movement the gentle rise and fall of her chest und
erneath the coats, her breathing still relaxed. He thought that maybe she’d been sleep-talking, but the noise hadn’t come from her.
Colin waited, still wondering if perhaps the girl had called out in her sleep, tormented by her dreams.
He kept his eyes on her, and when the loud squawk filled the room again he knew for certain that it hadn’t come from her this time.
There was a sharp, sudden movement at the girl’s side. A jolt underneath the material that covered her. Something was moving. A dog perhaps?
Colin stepped forward, quietly, carefully.
The noise came again now. A gurgle.
Leaning down, Colin held onto the edge of one of the jackets, lifting the material up to see what was underneath. He stepped back, amazed; a shocked noise escaping his mouth at the sight of the tiny baby.
A girl.
She was wide awake too. Staring up at him, a face full of innocence and wonder, she seemed to become suddenly alert. Her voice loud as she screeched excitedly, her legs kicking out. The girl was stirring now. Waking to comfort her child.
Then she saw him. The tall silhouette looming over them in the darkness.
The girl was suddenly aware that she was no longer alone. Scared, her eyes wide like saucers, her mouth opened and she screamed.
Grabbing Roza protectively, Lena pushed herself backwards, away from the man that loomed over them.
He was close too. Close enough to touch her. Terrified, Lena felt the cool wall behind her, realising with panic that she was boxed in. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run.
‘It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.’
Sensing the girl’s fear Colin stepped back, not wanting to alarm her.
‘My name is Colin. I work here. It’s okay, don’t be scared.’ Colin’s voice was quiet, calm.
He smiled at her.
‘I was checking up on the place. We’ve had vandals here, at night, taking people’s gifts and mementos from the gravesides, generally making a nuisance of themselves—’
‘I promise you, I haven’t touched a thing.’ Lena protested her innocence. ‘I was just looking for somewhere we could sleep, me and my daughter. Somewhere to shield us from the cold and the rain… ’
Colin nodded as if he believed her.
‘What’s your name?’
Lena looked at the man warily. She was scared, her eyes darting to the open door behind him. He was standing directly in the way of any hasty exit she might try and make so she decided her best option was to comply.
‘It’s Lena. My name is Lena.’
‘Hello, Lena.’ The name suited her. It was pretty. He could hear the lilt in her accent. Eastern European, he guessed, though her English was almost perfect.
‘You can’t stay here, I’m afraid,’ Colin said quietly. ‘It’s trespassing; if anyone saw you coming in here, they might have called the police. You’re going to have to leave.’
Lena started to get to her feet then. Dragging herself up off the floor as if she was on autopilot. The fight and determination gone from her. Here we go again, she thought to herself, back out onto the streets of London, traipsing around looking for somewhere warm and dry to stay.
She thought of all the people she’d met today. The ones that had sent her away from their shops and doorways. The ones that had called her names, spat at her. She couldn’t go back out there, alone in the middle of the night, with Roza. She couldn’t face it.
‘Let the police come.’ Lena started to cry then.
She wished more than anything now that she’d handed herself in earlier when she’d had the chance. Instead, she’d thought of Saskia and how she’d promised to meet her. How foolish she had been to believe that the girl had wanted to help her. Three a.m., Saskia had said; only she hadn’t come. It was just another broken promise. Lena was tired of it all. Of running, of hiding. She just wanted it all to stop. She was freezing cold, her hands almost blue. What sort of life was this for Roza? What sort of life was this for anyone?
‘Please, call them. Let the police come. Let them take me… I can’t do this anymore. I just want to go home to Albania.’
The girl was sobbing hysterically now.
Colin shook his head, confused. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.
He’d thought that at the mention of the police she’d just leave. Of her own free will – while she still could. He didn’t think that she would break down. She must be desperate. Homeless? A runaway?
There was no way that he could call the police. They’d ask too many questions. It would be too much of a risk. He didn’t know what to do. This was all going wrong.
‘I have somewhere you can stay… It’s not far from here. You can stay until the morning.’ Colin shrugged then.
It was a stupid idea. He regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth.
‘You’ll help me?’ Lena spoke now through her sobs.
This man was a stranger. She should be wary, but he seemed kind, and right now she didn’t have any other options. He was her only chance of getting somewhere warm for the night. Anywhere would be better than here in the cemetery.
Colin felt anxious then. He hadn’t expected the girl to agree.
‘Just until morning,’ he reaffirmed. ‘A few hours.’
He thought about the wheelie bin and the tools. How he needed to move it all.
It would be getting light soon, but he needed to get the girl out of here, fast.
‘Okay!’ Lena nodded, glad to have somewhere to go, for Roza’s sake. She was her only priority.
‘Okay,’ Colin echoed.
Shit!
Mother.
He’d have to keep Lena away from mother. This wasn’t ideal. It wasn’t ideal at all, but he was running out of time. He needed to get the girl away from the cemetery. Taking her to his flat was the only option.
‘It’s just around the corner. A few minutes’ walk.’
Watching now as Lena gathered up her belongings and her child, Colin tried to convince himself that everything was going to be just fine. It was just a few hours.
She’d be gone in the morning. Not much longer now, and everything would work out just as he had planned.
41
Slipping down underneath the broken railings, Saskia pushed herself through the gap in the fence. The rain had eased off hours ago, but the ground was still saturated. Crawling on her hands and knees through the hedgerow, she was covered in mud.
Cursing silently as she stood up, she wiped some of the brown slush down her already caked jeans, as she immediately scanned the cemetery.
The darkness didn’t deter her. Even blindfolded she could have found it; she knew the location by heart. She’d been here so often over the years.
Making her way to the back of the graveyard towards her parents’ plot, covered by the beautiful yew tree, Saskia weaved between the headstones.
Daniel and Angeline Frost.
That’s where she’d told Lena to meet her; only she wasn’t here.
Of course she wasn’t here. The place would have been terrifying for the girl. Alone, in the dark, surrounded by death, gravestones, ghosts. That and the fact that there would have been nowhere to keep warm, no shelter from the rain. It had been stupid of Saskia to even suggest the place.
Sitting down on the wet grass beside her parents’ headstone she was crestfallen.
Saskia thought about going home, back to that big lonely house all by herself again.
She was doing everything in her power to be able to keep it. Only, the thought of going back there now was filling her with dread.
Clutching her handbag tightly to her side, she shook her head as she thought about the money Misty had paid her.
It was dirty money. Blood money. She didn’t want it. She didn’t want any part of it.
These people, this life. Not now she knew what was at stake.
The house wasn’t going to make her happy; it wasn’t going to bring her father back. It was just bricks and mortar.
An empty shell. It certainly wasn’t worth all of this.
Crying now, Saskia sunk her head down in her hands. It was all such a mess. Getting involved with Joshua Harper and the club. She was caught up in the middle of it all, mixed up with these people. They were dangerous. Ruthless. But she had no idea how she was going to get out of it.
She’d have to walk away. From the house, from everything. She had no other choice. Her head was pounding, consumed by her thoughts, so that the sudden noise startled her. She looked around. Nothing. Then it came again.
Footsteps? Could it be Lena?
Turning, she could see movement over by the cemetery’s office. The building was still in darkness, no lights were on, but there was definitely movement in the doorway. A shadowy figure.
Standing up, Saskia was filled with hope. Lena. She had come after all. Thank God. But walking towards the figure she realised it wasn’t Lena at all. It was the outline of a man. Tall, wiry. Thinking fast, Saskia sunk back down to the ground, hiding behind a headstone.
She watched the man making his way down the steps to the pathway, a smaller figure walking alongside of him. Daintier, slight; a girl with a large coat draped over her shoulders. She was holding something in her arms. Lena. Saskia had no idea who the man was though.
She wanted to call out. To tell Lena that she was here, but she couldn’t. She was afraid to call out, remembering what Lena had told them about her husband Ramiz; about him having a gun.
Instead she stood watching, unsure what she should do as the two figures made their way down the pathway towards the cemetery’s main entrance. The street light shining down on them both now, illuminating their faces. The man looked familiar. As if Saskia had seen him somewhere before? His skin white, pale. Not Ramiz then.
Maybe he was a police officer? But he looked too nervy, too awkward. They were at the main gates now. The man unbolting the chain. He had a key? He worked here. Saskia was sure of it. She’d seen him before, when she’d been sitting at her parents’ graveside. He had been tending the graves nearby. An odd man; his eyes always beadily watching.
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