What was Duncan involved in? Why did that man want to speak to him? Who was the woman?
‘Yes, please.’
On autopilot Maggie walked over to the fridge and opened the door. Damn it. There was no milk. She usually did an online order on a Wednesday night and Duncan picked up the groceries on his way to get the children on a Thursday. But of course none of that had happened.
‘Right, kids, grab your coats. We’re going to walk up to the shop for a few bits and pieces. Come on. It will do us good to get a bit of fresh air.’
Suddenly getting out of the house seemed like the best idea she had had all day. The walls were crowding in on her and the cold air might clear her mind. She quickly helped Lily into her coat and her wellies, and grabbed a thick poncho and a scarf for herself.
The snow had nearly gone now; just slush remained on the streets, white in their quiet cul-de-sac, dirty dark grey on the main roads. Josh kicked it with the toes of his wellies, clearly less than pleased to be out. Maggie knew she should be trying to talk to the children, but what energy she had left seemed to be used up by the simple process of putting one foot in front of the other.
When they reached the shop, she bent down to the children and forced herself to speak normally. ‘Go and have a look at the sweets. Don’t touch, but decide if there is something you’d like. Josh, keep an eye on Lily for me please.’
Josh gave her a look that said ‘what’s going on?’ and Maggie did her best to give him a reassuring smile.
She picked up some milk and headed to the newspapers. Copies of the Manchester Evening News were piled up as if they had only just arrived, and eagerly she pulled one towards her. The front page was full of news of a fire in Chadderton, and Maggie quickly flicked to the next page. Nothing.
‘Are you looking for something, love?’ the man behind the counter asked. Maggie looked up, a guilty expression on her face. Her frantic search had creased the paper badly.
‘I’m so sorry, but I am going to buy this,’ she said hurriedly. ‘There was something on the TV earlier – on the news – and I wondered if it was in the paper.’
‘Not if it only happened today. Probably be in tomorrow’s.’
‘The article was about a woman found murdered in Manchester. Did you hear about that?’
The man shrugged. ‘Yeah, but I expect the police are being tight-lipped. Means they don’t know anything.’
She knew it had been an outside chance. ‘I’ll take the paper and the milk, please, and the children want some chocolate.’
She turned to Lily who was pointing at some chocolate buttons. Josh didn’t look very interested.
They made their way home slowly, Maggie having to resort to carrying a tired and unusually whingey Lily for the last five minutes. It was still cold outside, and Maggie was disappointed that there had been nothing more to be learned from the paper. As she turned the corner into their road, she felt a rush of hope that Duncan’s white van would be sitting lined up in front of the garage.
It wasn’t.
She bundled the children back into the warm house and went through to the kitchen, where she hastily made them bowls of bananas and warm custard to finish their meal.
‘Why isn’t Daddy here to make our tea?’ Lily asked.
‘He’s working, sweetheart,’ Maggie said, drawing another look from Josh. What was she supposed to say?
Maggie still couldn’t face the thought of food, but sat with the children while they finished theirs. Normally full of chatter, they were both quiet and withdrawn. Shifting her laptop, Maggie placed it on top of the discarded copy of the Manchester Evening News, and glanced at the paper’s masthead. Only the corner was visible. She inched the laptop a bit higher up the paper and a bit further to the right so that everything except the top left corner was hidden.
That’s it, she thought, feeling a faint leap of hope in her chest swiftly followed by the inevitable crushing dose of common sense. It would probably tell her nothing.
‘Back in a sec,’ she said to the children, who barely raised their eyes to hers as she pushed her chair back. She went to the shelf where she had placed the scrap of newspaper from Duncan’s cupboard. She stared at it for a moment, certain she was right, and took it to the table to compare with the exposed section of the front cover of that evening’s edition. The piece of paper she had found in the cupboard dated 16th November 2003 was from the Manchester Evening News.
But how could that be? Duncan had never been to Manchester until they moved there seven weeks ago.
Convinced she was making far more of this than was absolutely necessary – after all, the newspaper could have come from anywhere – she put the scrap away, opened the laptop and found Google. She knew she was clutching at straws, but maybe there was something significant in the news on 16th November 2003. She typed Manchester Evening News archive and got a hit immediately. But it was no use. There was nothing more recent than 1903.
She stared at the screen, drumming her fingers as she considered what else she could do. But her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.
Lily leapt off her chair.
‘Lily, come back to the table please,’ Maggie said automatically. ‘You know you don’t just leave like that. I’ll answer it.’
Hoping beyond anything she would have believed possible that this would be Duncan she lifted the phone to her ear but said nothing.
‘Hello, Maggie.’ It was the voice from earlier in the day – the voice that made her shiver. This time she noticed that it was a voice with no obvious accent, and it wasn’t the voice of either a very young or a very old man. She took the phone through to the hall and closed the door.
‘What do you want? Where’s my husband?’ She fought to keep the tremor out of her voice. She didn’t want this bastard to know how much he was scaring her.
‘I hadn’t realised he was such a coward. He’s running out of time, and you need to tell him.’
‘What are you talking about? How do you know Duncan?’ She was shouting and saw the kitchen door start to open. Josh must have heard her.
‘Have you seen the news this evening, Maggie?’
She stayed silent. She didn’t need to ask which story he was referring to. His voice was slow and measured, almost refined.
‘Your husband knows what he has to do. He has one more chance. Tell him, if he calls. It’s his last chance.’
The line went dead.
20
Maggie kept her back to Josh for a moment or two longer, breathing deeply to steady herself before she faced her son. She couldn’t let him see the fear in her eyes.
How was she going to keep them safe when she didn’t even know what the threat was? Had she double-locked the front door when they came in? Worse still, they had all been out to the shop with only the Yale lock securing the door. She knew that a Yale wasn’t enough to deter any burglar worth his salt. What if somebody had broken in? Somebody looking for Duncan – or maybe looking for her?
She was certain she had left the other doors bolted. They hadn’t been unlocked since she had called the children in earlier. Without turning to look at her son, she moved quickly to the front door and twisted the double lock.
Maggie breathed out. She had to know. She had to be sure that they were alone in the house. What if the man had broken in while they were out? What if right now he was upstairs, phoning her from his mobile, waiting for her? She had to check – she couldn’t let the children go upstairs to bed if there was the slightest chance that somebody was up there, waiting.
‘Josh, I’m going to pop upstairs. Will you stay with Lily while she finishes her banana, darling? I’ll only be a minute.’
‘Why were you shouting?’
‘Oh… it was some silly salesman on the phone. Nothing to worry about.’
Her heart was pounding, but she managed a thin smile before she turned to face the bottom of the stairs. She took the first two steps, then there was a pop and the house was plunged int
o darkness.
‘Shit!’ she cried, her voice breaking. That was all they needed – a power cut. Her mind spinning, she couldn’t quash the thought that maybe it wasn’t a power cut at all. Maybe somebody had switched off their electricity. And the fuse box was in the garage – the one part of the house that any burglar could get into with ease.
‘Mum?’ Josh was still in the hall. His voice echoed her fear. There was nothing more than a trace of light from distant street lamps coming through the stained-glass fanlight above the front door – just enough to see his shape.
‘It’s okay, baby,’ she said. ‘Are you all right in there, Lily?’ she shouted.
‘Yes, but it’s gone dark,’ came the response.
‘I know, darling. Stay where you are. I’m going to find the torch and come and get you. Don’t move, Lily.’
All Maggie could think was that there might be somebody in her house, in the kitchen with Lily or waiting behind a door.
Where the fuck was that torch?
She could see Josh moving. He was walking away from her. What was he doing?
‘Josh! Where are you going?’ He had gone into the study.
The door swung to behind him and seconds later she saw a flash of light.
There was somebody in there with him! Somebody with a torch. She stumbled down the stairs, missing the bottom one in the dark, catching herself on the newel post. She recovered quickly and flung the study door open. A bright white light flashed into her eyes, and she couldn’t see a thing. Just as quickly it moved away.
‘Sorry, Mum. Didn’t mean to blind you.’
Josh was standing there with his iPad mini. ‘I thought this might help.’
Maggie leaned back against the door and took two deep breaths. ‘Let’s get Lily, and we can all search together.’ The idea of leaving Lily on her own while they looked for the torch was frightening her, and she put her arm round Josh’s shoulder. ‘You’re a star, Josh Taylor. Do you know that?’
Instead of shrugging her off as he might do normally, he pressed against her, and she knew how frightened he was. She opened the door to the hall, and heard a footstep. She squeezed Josh tighter and he spun the light round.
Lily.
‘Hey, Tiddles, you were supposed to stay at the table,’ Maggie said, her voice cracking at the edges.
‘I know, but then the moon came out and I could see the man. I was scared.’
Maggie’s body turned to ice.
‘Where was the man, Lily?’ she asked, trying to keep her tone level.
‘In the garden. I didn’t like him looking at me.’
Maggie realised that she was still holding the telephone.
‘Okay, don't be scared. I want you to stay close to me.’
The children nodded mutely.
‘I’m going to open the kitchen door so the man will see me and know I’m calling the police. That will make him go away.’
Lily started to cry noisily. Clutching his iPad in one hand, Josh reached out his other to Lily.
Maggie didn’t want to see the man in the garden. She didn’t want his face to bring her fear into focus. But she had to do it – he had to know that she was calling for help.
She pushed open the kitchen door with her shoulder and stood there, looking out into the garden. At first she saw nothing, but then the moon shot out like a bullet from behind a fast-moving cloud and illuminated the garden. She jumped.
There he was.
She peered out for a moment to be sure, then let the door slam shut and hurried back along the hall to the children.
‘Lily, the man you saw in the garden. What did he look like?’
Lily’s eyes were like saucers as she turned a serious face up towards her.
‘He was white, with black eyes and an orange nose.’
Josh dropped Lily’s hand and let out a bark of nervous laughter. ‘Lily, you idiot, that’s the snowman.’
Lily gave Josh a fierce look.
Maggie sagged with relief and bent to hug both children to her. One fear may have evaporated, but it didn’t do anything to help the greater worry that there might already be somebody in her house or the garage.
‘Let’s find as many candles as we can, light them all, and then get that torch.’
By the time they had located candles, matches and a not very impressive torch, Maggie’s heart rate had dropped a little, but she wasn’t looking forward to what was ahead. One thing was certain: she was not going out into the garage to check the fuse box without full-on illumination. A feeble torch or Josh’s iPad wasn’t enough. If it was a fuse, it could wait until morning and they could all barricade themselves in the sitting room with candles until it was light.
Maggie didn’t want to leave the children alone while she searched the rest of the house, but she had checked all the downstairs rooms and anybody hiding upstairs would have to pass her to get to them. A part of her knew she was being neurotic, but another part of her was screaming that twenty-four hours ago she wouldn’t have believed any of this was possible – and if the man on the phone had been watching the house he would have seen them go to the shops.
The rest didn’t bear thinking about. Neurotic or not, she had to know they were safe.
‘Okay you two. Just sit quietly at the bottom of the stairs while I see if there’s anything stopping the lights from coming on upstairs.’ She couldn’t think of any other way of explaining why she was searching the entire house.
‘Can I watch the television, Mummy?’
"No, Lil. It won’t work, darling. Sit with Josh, okay?’
Slowly, not knowing if she should be stealthy or should stamp her feet, Maggie made her way up the stairs to the first floor.
She went into Josh’s room and flashed the feeble torch around. Nothing. She walked across to his wardrobe and paused. She had to look inside. She waited, counted to ten, reached out and wrenched the door open then jumped back, shining her light directly into the cupboard. Standing leaning against the wall was a toy sword. She picked it up and used it to push the clothes to one side, but there was nobody there.
With relief she turned, knowing there was one last place to look. She dreaded getting down on her hands and knees. The door was open behind her. She was a perfect target for anybody who wanted to jump her. But she had to check under the bed. She could only do it by counting. She knew when she got to ten she was going to have to get down on the floor and prod under the bed with the sword.
‘Eight, nine, TEN,’ she said and fell to her knees, immediately lifting the covers and poking underneath. The sword didn’t go far. It met resistance – something that gave slightly when touched. Maggie nearly screamed. She shone the light under the bed and fell onto her hip. ‘Jesus,’ she muttered as she looked at the giant panda they had bought Josh when he was little. She had forgotten it. There wasn’t space for anything else under there.
She stood up slowly. There was a flash of light and she almost jumped out of her skin. But it was the power coming back on. Thank God. It really had only been a power cut. Or had somebody switched the power back on in the garage? No. She had to believe it was a power cut.
After the terror of the last thirty minutes, the rest of the search felt relatively easy. It wasn’t until she was coming downstairs that she remembered the loft. And with that thought came a memory of a television drama that had frightened her half to death. A woman was walking unafraid towards her bedroom, pulling off her blouse, getting ready to take a shower. Behind her head, two legs appeared, dangling from the loft hatch. A man had been up there, hiding, waiting for his moment.
Maggie stopped on the stairs and gazed at the hatch. What should she do?
Nothing. She was being ridiculous. There was no reason at all to suspect anybody was in her house. She had to hold fast to that belief. Feeling more than desperate for a glass of wine and cursing Duncan for his rule that no alcohol was kept in their home, she almost collapsed from fear-induced exhaustion on her way downstairs. She had never know
n her husband to drink anything alcoholic, and if she had more than two glasses of wine he could be distant with her for days. Tonight she would have drunk a whole bottle if it wasn’t for the responsibility of looking after the children. But one glass would have been good.
She let Josh and Lily stay up for longer than usual that evening, and in the end she settled them both in her bed. She climbed in with them and softly sang a few of the silly songs they always sang in the car on long journeys. Lily joined in for a while, but gradually her voice faded and Maggie knew she was asleep. Josh was silent, but his body was too rigid for him to be sleeping. She lowered her voice a little and carried on singing, stroking his curly mop of hair gently. Finally she felt his body relax.
She had to decide what to do next. Even though her earlier fear had gone, it had been replaced by a fear that her husband was involved in something – something bad – and terror of what the caller was planning to do. What was he expecting Duncan to do? Why did her husband only have one more chance? What was happening to her life? How long was she prepared to let this go on before she took control – whatever the consequences?
Every curtain in the house was tightly closed, but somehow that didn’t make her feel safe. Gently extracting herself from her position between the children, she tiptoed over to the bedroom window and pulled back a corner of the curtain to peer out into the night. She could see footprints in the rapidly melting snow, but they could have been theirs from the shopping trip. She couldn’t see anything on the lawn at the front of the house, and the cul-de-sac seemed empty. There was something about a deserted street after snow. It always seemed eerily and unnaturally silent to Maggie.
Realising that she couldn’t get out of bed every five minutes to check if anybody was about, she decided to pull the curtains wide open. If she sat up in bed, she could see the road and watch for anybody walking towards the house. Making as little noise as possible, she pushed a chest of drawers across the door. Nobody was getting in.
As she climbed back into bed to take up her vigil, it felt to Maggie as if the air around her was charged, and she could no longer ignore the fact that something was terribly wrong.
Tom Douglas Box Set 2 Page 41