Classic. Walked into a door.
Ha! Like anyone’s gonna believe that...
Escape at the moment seemed impossible, a fleeting dream. But she was still determined. Somehow, some way she would manage it, even supposing she died trying. She’d envisaged so many scenarios, and rejected them all, that her head hurt.
They pulled off the motorway and were soon in Norwich city centre. They drove straight through and out the other side. Annya stared at the people as they passed, longing to call out to them -but she knew that would be suicide.
Ten minutes later, they came to a stop outside a large country house. She guessed that it was a hotel, but a very exclusive one, as there were no signs on the road telling you it was here. Annya figured it would probably only take twenty or thirty minutes to run back to Norwich. If -I ever get the chance.
And where then?
Having been among the Families for a good time now, she knew their workings, and knew that finding someone to trust would be practically impossible - as impossible as trying to escape.
The jeep stopped outside of a double-door entrance. She had barely straightened up before the boot was lifted and a large hand was wrapped around her arm. She was dragged out, along with the suitcases. Not once did she feel his grip loosen.
‘Smarten yourself up, girl,’ he whispered in her ear, squeezing her right breast. ‘Or you’ll be dead before the morning comes. It won't take long to get a replacement for you. Two a penny, that’s what you lot are.’
Annya quickly brushed her dress down, trying to get rid of the creases, pushed her hair behind her ears, and pulled a few locks over her black eye.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘Now take these.’ He threw her backpack at her, then handed her a small pink suitcase. ‘Walk in front of me. Do not dare to veer off anywhere.’
Nodding, she quickly slipped the backpack onto her shoulders and picked up the suitcase.
She followed the other man, the one who had been asleep, up the seven stone steps and through the massive medieval double doors. Inside, the front hall was breathtaking. Never had she seen any place so magnificent. The smell was of old lavender polish, the same as her grandmother used to use back in the old country. It made her more homesick than ever.
A huge gold unicorn stood at the side of the staircase next to the desk, rearing so far above her head that she had to actually throw her head back to see its face. The carpets were red and luxurious, as if laid out for Hollywood stars to walk on. Seven huge chandeliers filled the large reception area with bright glittering light. It was all she could do to stop herself from saying a breath taken, 'Wow!' Without doubt, from what she knew of them, this was a Families stronghold. A gathering place for them all!
She had no chance of escape from here. How had she ever thought that she would? Her heart sank. The others were depending on her, but it was impossible. She would be a prisoner for life. A breath caught in her throat with her next thought: however long that lasted.
She watched as Kirill Tarasov checked in, and actually flirted with the pretty blonde receptionist, then they all piled into a lift that took them to the second floor. She was squashed between both of the guards. The English one smirked at her until the lift doors opened. Lovilla took the key for room nineteen from her father and opened the door. The English guard followed them into the room with the suitcases. On the way out, he looked at Annya and used the universal gesture of pointing his forefinger and middle finger at his eyes, then pointing to hers. I will be watching you.
Annya shivered. Another breath caught in her throat as he closed the door behind him. She glanced at Lovilla, who had been watching. Her face held a smirk, as she said, ’Go to your room, peasant, you will not be needed tonight… Well, on second thoughts, I might find a use for you.’
Picking her backpack up. Annya quickly turned. There were two doors facing her. One was obviously hers, the other Lovilla's. She knew her choice would be met with scorn if she should choose the wrong one.
The decision was taken out of her hands a moment later when Lovilla snapped at her, ‘Aren’t you forgetting something, you stupid little peasant?’
Heart beating rapidly, Annya turned. She looked up from under her lids at Lovilla, terrified of what might be expected of her.
‘The cases, fool! Surely to God you don’t expect me to unpack them myself,’ she said, a look of pure amazement on her face.
‘Sorry, Miss.’ Annya said quickly. Dropping her backpack and grabbing the nearest case, she headed for the bedrooms. Outside the doors, she hesitated.
‘The one on the right! Oh, you are such a pathetic little peasant. Why do I put up with you?’
‘Sorry, Miss,’ Annya repeated as she opened the door. Quickly, she unpacked the case and hung everything in the wardrobe, then went back for the other one.
When she was finished, she quietly closed the door behind her, grabbed her backpack off the floor and stepped over to the next bedroom door. She was turning the handle, delivering up a thank you prayer and about to breathe easily, when Lovilla said, ’Would you like something to eat, peasant?’
Annya turned to see that room service had delivered while she’d been in the bedroom. Laid out on the table was more than enough food for a large family, at least half a dozen different dishes. It was then she noticed that the table was set for two.
Oh my God, she thought, her heart tripping. Just the very thought that Lovilla had ordered the table to be set for two was enough to give her an anxiety attack.
She needed time to breathe, time to figure out what to do.
What would Jaz do?
Go along with it, that’s what she would do, just take it in her stride as usual.
That’s how she’s survived this long.
‘I’ve…I need to g-go t-to the toilet,’ she stammered. Running into her room and closing the door behind her, she ran to the bathroom, shut that door and slid the bolt.
That won’t stop them, she thought, sitting on the toilet seat, staring at the flimsy bolt. Lovilla wouldn’t even need one of the heavies to break that down. So fragile. A whisper, a breath would blow it down.
She looked around the small but luxurious bathroom, white tiles and solid gold fittings. Her eyes passed over the open window, then quickly skittered back.
She blinked. The window was wide open. Somehow she felt as if it was beckoning her towards it. Slowly she tiptoed over the luxurious red carpet, the few small steps that were needed to reach the window. Standing on her toes, she leaned out and carefully looked around. Two feet below the window was a thick ledge that ran the length of the building.
Go for it, she thought, excitement building in her body as she looked around again.
Without thinking how she was ever going to reach ground level, or even how she was going to get across the well-lit grounds to tree cover well over a hundred yards away, she climbed out of the window. She decided to go left, certain, even though it was gloomy, that she could see an old-fashioned fire escape at the end. Praying that’s what it was, and with her back pressed against the building, she slowly edged, inch by trembling inch, along the ledge which was the exact width of her feet. Terrified to look down, she was praying the whole time that, although they were at the back of the place and it seemed deserted, no one would look up and see her.
She was halfway along now, concentrating so hard that she had no idea how much time had passed. She chewed her bottom lip, thinking, I’m never going to make it. No way.
Her calves were aching but, knowing that pain would be nothing to what they would put her through if they caught her up here, she moved on. She was just about to pass a window, which thankfully was in darkness, when she heard footsteps just below her. Heart beating rapidly, she squashed into the side of the window and kept perfectly still. Hearing what sounded like a dustbin lid being lifted and, a minute later, put back on, she held her breath until the footsteps retraced and went back into the building.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she wond
ered if she should maybe turn around to get past the window, which had a four-inch wooden sill on top of the ledge. It would be more than difficult doing it backwards. She could cling onto the top of the window, if she turned. It would be easier than what she was doing now.
‘But how to get turned back round again?’ she muttered.
You won't know until you try. She heard her grandfather’s favourite saying in her head, and gained courage. She wanted to escape as much for him as she did for herself. For a moment, her eyes misted over, thinking of the torment he must be going through. Then she swung her leg onto the sill and moved on, every moment expecting Lovilla’s head, or one of her guards', to pop out of the window and grab her.
She safely manoeuvred the turn after the window, although it seemed to take forever. Each minute she expected to miss her footing. At the end of the building, there was indeed a fire escape, old and rusted, and leaning into the wall as if they were melded together. It also looked like it had never been used before. But a fire escape was a fire escape, she thought, lifting her right leg and swinging her body round until she was facing the building again. A small step, and she was onto the fire escape, grabbing tight hold of the rail at each side.
For a moment it shook, making a loud groaning noise, and she thought it was going to come off the wall. As the noise ran all the way down to the bottom, she clung to the first rung, her heart speeding up. Thankfully, it held. All she really wanted to do now was go as fast as she could, hit the ground running and go for it, but the noise would have the whole building out wondering what was going on. Slowly, keeping herself in check, step by tortured step, she made her way down.
Wondering why Lovilla hadn’t raised the alarm yet, she stared at what might be the biggest task yet-getting across the well-lit yard without being seen.
Make a bolt for it? she thought, looking up at the light, realising that she probably could have smashed it as she was passing. Then again, it could have been her undoing. One slip, and she would have been lying on the concrete, twisted up in a mess of arms and legs and probably dead.
Not quite believing that she had made it to the ground, she stood for a moment, picturing her grandfather’s face when she finally made it home.
A moment later, she heard a door open. She gasped, and quickly hid between two large bins, shaking with fear and praying that whoever it was didn’t plan on putting out the rubbish.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Frowning, Lovilla picked at her prawn salad, disappointed that she couldn’t find anything to complain about. She loved seeing the dismay on a peasant's face if they thought they were in trouble.
Her father treated them as pets. She’d actually seen him pat and fondle them as one would a cat or a dog. He even had his stupid favourites… Silly fool!
They are nothing but vermin. And have to be eradicated as such before there is nothing left on the planet.
Why can’t he see that?
She lifted the silver lid from a large platter and raised her eyebrows. Half a dozen strawberry and custard tarts nestled together.
‘Hmm,’ she muttered. ‘Who told them?’ She wasn’t really surprised, it happened everywhere she went. The peasants probably had a list of all the Families' favourite foods.
Feeling very pleased with herself, she sat back amongst the cream cushions and looked at the gold unicorns on the ceiling.
‘Ha! Stupid peasants, you haven’t got a clue what’s coming. And neither, dear father, do you.’
Suddenly she sat up. ’Where the----?’ Jumping off the bed, she ran to Annya’s room. It took only a moment to see she wasn’t there. Turning the handle on the bathroom door, she found it locked.
‘Open the door. NOW.’
She rattled the handle, then put her shoulder to the door. The tiny bolt gave way with the first push. Angry Lovilla walked in, her eyes at once taking in the open window. This time she was truly amazed, perhaps for the first time in her life.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Terrified even to breathe, Annya sat huddled in on herself. Then the footsteps stopped, she heard a click and guessed, rightly, that it was a cigarette lighter. She let out her breath and dropped her head onto her knees. A moment later, she jumped when she heard a voice from inside yelling, ‘Get yourself back in here!’
‘I’ve just flaming well lit up,’ a man's voice yelled back, from only a few feet away.
‘Get in here!’ shouted the other voice, definitely a woman’s, high pitched and squeaky.
‘Oh, fucking hell,’ the smoker yelled back. ‘I am entitled to a break, you know.’
A loud harsh laugh was followed by, ‘Not here you’re not, mate. Remember? You sold your soul to this lot, you ain’t entitled to nothing. Get used to it.’
A moment later, she heard the door closing. Without giving it any more thought, she jumped up and ran as fast as she could for the trees, every second expecting to be seen and the dogs set on her. Out of breath, she hid behind the first tree, before cautiously looking back at the hotel.
All quiet. Thank God, she thought as, still panting and trying to be as quiet as she could, she headed for the road.
God only knows what’s creeping around in these trees. Beetles, worms, rats? She just managed to stifle a scream as she stood on something soft.
Oh help, please no.
Not a giant spider.
She shivered all over and, wanting to open her mouth and just scream her head off, she took another step.
‘It’s just dog's mess,’ she muttered, trying to convince herself as she speeded up. ‘That’s all, or a fox's.’ She froze for a brief moment. The thought of foxes on the loose terrified her even more. Shaking with fear she moved on, more slowly now, trying to be as quiet as she could.
Still got to get out of here. She prayed she was heading in the right direction. It was pitch black among the trees, and they seemed to be getting closer together.
Then she saw a faint patch between the trees which seemed slightly lighter. Turning more to her right, she headed towards it. She was nearly at the roadside when something touched her shoulder. She bit into her hand. The only thought in her head spider spider spider, she burst through the trees and jumped onto the road, and ran in a blind panic until she could run no more.
Slowing down, gasping, rubbing the stitch in her side, she soldiered on.
'I’m going to make it, Grandpa, I’m coming home,' she repeated over and over. ‘I’m coming home!'
A moment later her revived spirits hit rock bottom, when she saw the car in front of her. Black, with no lights on, it had been hard to see until it was close. Panicking, she looked quickly behind to see another car closing in on her.
It’s them, she thought.
No way. She started to sob.
I am not going back there.
They can kill me before that happens.
The only option open to her was back into the woods, and pray she could find somewhere to hide. No way could she outrun them in the dark. They would know this place far better than she did.
Find some sticks, tree branches, anything to beat them off.
She looked around. Nothing, and there was no time to snap a branch off.
There must be somewhere to hide!
I can’t give up now.
One of the cars had stopped within a few yards of her, and the one behind was catching up. The sound of the car doors being slammed spurred her on. She ran down the slight slope that led into the woods. Noise didn’t matter any more, they knew where she was. If she could only make it out the other side before they caught her. She ran, crashing and weaving in case they had guns. She knew she was nothing to them. The only reason they wanted to catch her was to shut her up.
She made some progress, and began to hope that there was a chance, a tiny chance that she might even outrun them. The thought of freedom lured her on. From somewhere inside, she gained courage and a second wind.
Suddenly, she was grabbed from behind and thrown to the floor. She thras
hed about, but her hands were quickly tied behind her back, a gag shoved into her mouth and a hood put over her head. She felt herself being lifted up and carried between two people.
All the fight she possessed deserted her. It didn’t matter anymore. She had given up. She would never see her beloved grandfather ever again.
PART FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
It wasn’t the first time Mike had slept under the stars, although they were far more visible up home than they were in London. He was also convinced that the benches up home were much more comfortable. Probably being biased, he thought. After all, a bench is a bench, no matter where it is.
Not meaning to spend the night on the bench, he had merely sat down for a few minutes to sort his head out. The next minute he’d fallen fast asleep, and now his neck was stiff.
He stretched his neck to the left to get the kinks out, wondering how he’d gotten away with it. Amazing, really. He stretched his neck the other way.
Probably the last place they would think to look for a fugitive. Face it, though, that’s what I am. He sighed. The idea did not sit well on his shoulders.
He knew he was filling his mind with random thoughts to stop thinking of Tony. They had become as annoying as a song stuck in your head that goes on and on.
He glanced at his watch. Seven o' clock, and the sun was just clawing its way up the sky. Leaving the park, he crossed the empty road to a small newsagent's shop. He looked at the news billboard before he went in, fully expecting his picture to be splashed under large headlines of his name.
Nothing! He frowned. Going inside, he picked up half a dozen newspapers. Nowhere was there any mention of a murder concerning him.
He bought a couple of the more well-known ones, then went back to the bench he now called home. He found nothing in the papers but celebrity sex lives, and phone hacking scams - until a small piece about CCTV cameras caught his eye. Every camera in London, at a certain time, had shown nothing but static. Strangle all the cameras in Norwich had done the same. The boffins had blamed sunspots.
Holy Island Trilogy 02 - Nowhere Man Page 14