Lead Me Home: a clever and engrossing psychological thriller

by CS Savage

  On Sunday morning, she stomped along the tree-lined path, still covered in rotting leaves. The ground was muddy and rutted from bike wheels and horse hooves, and her mobile phone was stuck to her chin.

  'Can you believe it? He's such a wanker.'

  Hamish's reply broke up a bit, the reception was never that great up here. But she caught the end and definitely couldn't misinterpret the meaning,

  'You just need to eat humble pie. Sorry, Clance, I know you hate him, but it’s just going to look bad if you argue with him. And he has got a bit of a point – you have been a little unconventional in your approach recently.'

  Clancy's head pounded. 'I can't believe you're on his side!'

  'I'm not, I can assure you. I just don't want you getting yourself in more trouble. Just listen to sense for once.'

  'Listen to sense? He hasn't got a clue what he's talking about, he's the one that needs some sense.'

  'Look, Clance, I’ve got to go. And sorry about today.'

  She was left staring at the phone in her hand after the call ended. She couldn't believe he was siding with them. She had thought she could rely on Hamish. Disappointment flooded through her. She raised her chin, tried to enjoy the weak sunshine that fell on her skin. But her chest felt heavy as she ruminated over tomorrow's meeting. Why had they had to arrange it on a Monday morning? They must have known it would cast a shadow over her weekend. It didn't help that she was missing Millie and Hamish. Because Jill had hurt her ankle, he didn't feel he could leave her on his own. Her stomach seethed. Bloody Jill, if she didn't get so pissed all the time, she wouldn't fall over so much. Clancy hastened her speed to get her pulse up, and the air was cool. It would be good to get back and have a glass of wine. She hadn't seen Ro yesterday and wondered how she was. She'd been a bit secretive lately. Clancy wondered if Ro was upset about Beth staying. She would get home, make them all a decent meal, try and find out what was going on with her daughter.

  37

  Rowan

  Rowan stuck her head around the lounge door on the way out. Beth was curled up on the sofa staring with a glazed expression at the telly.

  'I'm just heading out now. I shouldn't be late, but don't wait up.' She winked, closed the door softly behind her and then made her way to the bus stop.

  She checked her appearance in the mirror on the way out, in the hope that she looked mature enough. She'd deliberately played down the goth look, thought an older man might not be so into it. Thinking about it now, she wasn't so sure about the pink. But it was getting late, and she needed to get off, didn't want to keep him waiting.

  The 407 seemed to take forever to arrive, and it was freezing. The wind seemed to slice through her. Still, she was glad she hadn't ruined the effect with a coat. She glanced at her watch, tried to stop the irritating thought in her mind telling her she was making a mistake. If the bloody bus didn't hurry up, she was going to need the loo again. Eventually, she caught a glimpse of red through the traffic, as the bus headed towards her, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  When the bus stopped, she was already standing and leapt off as soon as the doors opened, heading for the train station, looking out for a black Audi. She checked her watch again as she walked – seven pm. Perfectly on time – and there was a black car waiting. She took a last glance at her reflection in the café window, before pulling her shoulders as tall as she could and sashaying over to the waiting car. As soon as she arrived, the passenger door opened in front of her. Ignoring a last stab of doubt, she leant down and climbed in. He looked at her directly, she couldn't read his expression, but it didn't look disappointed. She couldn't help but stare straight back.

  'Let's go somewhere quiet, babes. That ok with you?'

  She nodded.

  'I fancy a drive. Ever seem the view at night off Epsom Downs?'

  She shook her head, daren't speak. Her mouth felt like it was glued closed. Perhaps she was wrong about this, she felt out of her depth. Who drove at night to look at views? But she didn't argue, couldn't find the words. He clicked the indicator, pulled out into a gap in the moving traffic, and they headed down Brighton Road towards Banstead.

  'Really nice to actually meet you,' he said, and she nodded again.

  'Music?' He pressed play, and classical music burst from the speakers.

  The car was smart and looked like it had been adapted. The seats seemed deeper, like a racing car’s. She leant back into the head rest, closed her eyes, took deep breaths. As the engine roared, she felt a thrill run through her. She wished Amy could see her now. This beat that socially-awkward Sam and his “drinks” any day of the week. She listened to the violins, the passion in the music, wished she recognised it. It was beautiful, but she didn't want to look immature in front of Fariq; he was so sophisticated by comparison. She studied him out of the corner of her eye as he drove. He was wearing black trousers, a white and blue-striped open-neck cotton shirt and a casual suit jacket. His hair was just above shoulder length, shiny, flicked back off his face. He focused on the road, swinging the car over a roundabout and on to the mad mile. She pinched herself, checked she wasn't dreaming, but nearly ouched out loud at the pain. Very awake. She moulded herself into the back of the seat. This is so cool.

  Before long, she could see the darkness of the Downs ahead. He slowed the car, indicated and turned right into a gravelled car park. He leaned slightly forward and stopped the engine. It was a clear night, and before them, the lights of London were spread like a carpet of diamonds. He pointed out the Eye, the Wembley arch. Then, he sat back and drew a bottle off the back seat, already uncorked, produced two plastic glasses. He filled them, handed her one. She took it, sipped. It was beautiful. White wine, crisp and fresh. He didn't touch her, kept firmly on his side of the car, but then produced a small white packet, shaped like an envelope, from his wallet. He looked at her,

  'Do you mind? It'll relax you, babes, make you feel good.'

  Rowan stared at the envelope and felt her heart race with panic. She had never tried any sort of hard drug before. How the hell am I going to get out of this one? She had read about drugs, knew they were unreliable, she could end up in a coma. And her mum would kill her. But as she looked up at Fariq's face, saw how calm and matter-of-fact he was about it, she knew there was no way was she going to say no. She didn't trust herself to speak, just watched as he took a CD case and a credit card from the glove box, slipped a bit of powder onto the plastic, and started carving it up into lines. When he had finished, he rolled a five-pound note into a tube and handed it to her. Her chest was pounding, she was worried her trembling was going to tip the case if she held it, so instead she leaned towards it, gently put the note to her nostril and inhaled sharply.

  She had seen it on TV, knew what to do, but wasn't prepared for the sudden blast of sensation. It hit her, almost like an orgasm, shot through her body. She gasped, shut her eyes, heard him sniff hard, looked at him. He didn't look old now; he looked amazing. His tan was even, his eyes intense. She felt shivers race up her body, a tingling between her legs. She looked at the vista of London, the lights had come alive, the colours moving like a kaleidoscope. She had never felt like this. She longed for him to touch her, but instead, he leant forward and pressed play and classical music burst into the car, the speakers vibrating. He sipped his wine, told her to relax. As they sat, he continued to point out landmarks, his hands moving animatedly. She felt a surge of longing, but he didn't try to touch her. Rowan curled her hands, rubbed her leg, but daren't make first contact. She would die if he rejected her.

  'Good, isn't it?' he asked.

  'Umm,' she murmured. Too right.

  'I'm looking for someone very special, I hoped you'd be the one, you are so beautiful.' He picked up a strand of her hair, curled it around his finger. He pulled her gently towards him, staring intently at her face, his eyes roaming all over it as if he was drinking her in. He seemed to like what he saw.

  'I have high standards, I expect loyalty, devotion. Are you up for t
hat?'

  Rowan felt a tiny shudder pass through her, gave a slight nod of her head, let her head fall back against the headrest. He carried on looking at her intently, his eyes sparkling. 'I have a request. It may seem a little unusual, but for me it's important. I have particular tastes.'

  Rowan shifted in her seat, tried to keep the concern from showing on her face. What was he, some sort of weirdo?

  He licked his lips before speaking. Taking the time to get his words right. 'It's nothing much. Just…next time we meet, could you wear a dress, stockings, high heels? Would you do that for me?'

  Rowan’s eyes widened. Wow. She didn't know whether to feel creeped out or flattered. So, he wanted to see her in stockings. It’s a common male fantasy. Would he be expecting her to have sex? She guessed so. Her stomach muscles clenched, but she found herself agreeing to his request.

  'Thanks babes.' He took out his wallet, counted out four fifty-pound notes, handed them to her. 'Buy something glamorous, I want everyone to want you.' He took a breath. 'But no-one else to touch you – ever.'

  As he stared at her, it was like a cold breeze had blown down her back. For just one second, thoughts of Vic returned, and she wondered what she was getting herself into. He seemed to notice her discomfort, looked away.

  'Better get you home,' he said, before starting the engine, reversing from the parking space, doing a U-turn and screeching out of the car park to head back towards Sutton.

  'Where am I taking you?'

  'Carshalton.'

  'Well, I'll need your postcode.' She recited it slowly as he punched it into his Satnav while he drove. The screen lit up with a map, his eyes kept flickering to it as he followed the directions. Streetlights and parked cars seemed to fly past, before, eventually, they pulled up in Park Lane. He leant towards her, held her face between his hands, gently pressed his lips to hers. Her face tingled. It felt like it was going to fizz off her head. She closed her eyes, felt herself start to melt into him. But almost as quickly as the kiss started, he drew his head back, stopped. He kept her face between his hands for a moment longer, his eyes boring into her.

  'You are amazing. Until next time, babes.' He pulled back sharply, looked straight ahead. She undid her seatbelt, opened the door and slipped out on to the street, heading towards her front door. She didn't look back, but could feel his eyes following her until she turned down her garden path and disappeared from view.

  38

  Clancy

  Dr Vikaj was talking. Phrases like “professional conduct,” “GMC,” “communication skills” falling from his lips. 'I can't say how disappointed I am it has got to this, Clancy. It really doesn't reflect well on you. Dan is the team manager and, as such, is responsible for overseeing the resources of the team. I understand you are well-meaning, but I have to agree with him. It's not your role to be following people up like this in the community.'

  She tried to concentrate on his words, but her thoughts flickered through her head. Whichever way she looked at it, Hamish had been right. It was bad news. Dan was nodding, face focused. Clancy wriggled uncomfortably in her suit. How do people wear these things every day? Dr Vikaj was sitting opposite her on the round pine veneer table and was dressed formally, could have cut himself on the edges of his suit. Clancy tried hard and managed to hide the smirk that was springing on her face, anxiety making her hysterical. His hair was shiny, flattened to the top of his head with grease, and his face was arranged into an expression that registered deep concern. She turned her head to look at Dan, who was sitting next to her, also dressed formally today in a shirt and tie. Next to him sat the HR Director, Anne. Clancy knew that her presence signified the gravity of the situation. She was here to ensure due process was followed. Placed before each person on the table was a plastic cup of water. A jug full of slightly cloudy water sat in the middle. Clancy made a mental note not to drink. God knows where that jug had been. She gripped her hands together in her lap, tried to focus.

  'What I really need to see from both of you is a commitment to working together more harmoniously. Do you realise what impact it has on the team if they see infighting between the people that are supposed to be leading? I expect far more from individuals with your level of seniority. Moving forward, I expect cooperation – on both sides.' He looked at Clancy, then shifted his gaze to Dan. Dan, who had been looking smug, reddened slightly. The HR Director was scribbling, taking minutes. She kept a neutral expression on her face, said nothing. Clancy looked at the table, felt her cheeks flush. If they knew that, at this moment, Beth was at her house, had been there for days, then she would be finished. She’d lose her licence to practice. She needed to stay calm, try to cooperate. She had to get out of there without any more investigation into her conduct. Basically, she had to suck up to Dan. So, she bit her lip.

  'Yes, I understand, Dr Vikaj.' She shifted her gaze, looked at Dan. 'But I do need to be able to work autonomously, as well. Dan, you need to give me some leeway.'

  Dan gave her a thin smile. 'Of course, I understand. But from now on, you'll do the clinics you are supposed to, and if someone needs more intensive support at home, you'll ask one of the team members to do it.'

  She had no choice, had to agree with him.

  'Good. Well, I think we can leave it at that for today.' Dr Vikaj looked across the table at the nod of confirmation from Anne. 'But I expect to hear things are improving, otherwise we may need to consider taking things to a more formal stage.' Dr Vikaj looked serious, Anne started collecting her papers, and they both rose from the table. Clancy stood and shook hands with all three, all the time biting the inside of her cheek. At least it was over, she could get out of here. And she needed to talk to Beth, make sure she understood that she couldn't say anything about staying, emphasise how serious the situation was.

  When she got in that evening, the TV was rumbling in the lounge, and Beth and Rowan were curled up at either end of the sofa. As she entered, they stopped talking, appeared to finish mid-sentence. Clancy was just happy they were getting on. Beth was still jumpy and looked up sharply when Clancy entered the room. She had that slightly wary look in her eye. Hopefully, the Olanzapine would start working, it shouldn't take too long to kick in.

  'Good day?' Rowan asked.

  'Not really. Had an HR meeting with Dan about that complaint he made. Been wrapped over the knuckles, told to stop seeing people at home. He makes me sick, he really does.'

  Beth looked up, her face taut with anxiety. 'What do you mean? Are you not meant to?'

  'It's not that. He wants me in outpatients, not out and about in the community. You can see more patients if they come to you. It's all about money, in the end.'

  'Does he know I'm here?'

  'No. Like I said before, you need to keep it to yourself, don’t tell anyone you've been here.'

  She was only slightly mollified by Beth's reassurances.

  39

  Beth

  Hugging her arms around herself, she looked for what seemed to be the hundredth time out of the window, checked for any shadows or movement. It all looked clear, but could she be certain? Surely no-one would dare come after her here? She knew that soon she would have to go back to her flat, but she was trying hard to not think about it – it made her stomach feel rock hard. She worried she was overstaying her welcome, that Clancy would get in trouble, but there was no way she could face going home, being alone. She looked up as the door opened and then watched Rowan sink onto the other end of the sofa.

  'Hiya, good day?'

  She shrugged. 'How about you?'

  'Normal shit at college. That bloody Sue, she's such a bitch, saying I'm too slow at waxing. Does she want me to burn everyone? She just bloody hates me. '

  'Sounds crap. I need to get back to work. I'll need to ring them soon, tell them what's going on.' She started tearing her tissue into little pieces, face set in a frown. They fell silent for a few minutes.

  Then, Rowan spoke, her voice low. 'I went on that date with Fariq last we
ek.'

  'Really…and?'

  'It was a bit weird. He took me for a drive, no one's ever done that before. But he was hot. Such a gentleman, really treated me like a lady, didn't even touch me. So nice to go out with someone who has respect for you.'

  Beth tried hard to look interested. 'Weren't you scared?'

  Rowan's face tightened. 'Why would I be?'

  'Oh nothing, don't mind me, I'm just paranoid.' Beth gave a little laugh, saw Rowan's face relax.

  'He's not like all the boys my age who just want a grab of your tits and a shag. And he's got a dead swanky car, massive sound system and plays classical music.'

  Beth pulled a face.

  'I know, really – classical! But honestly, it makes you feel amazing. It's so exhilarating. Can't believe I messed around with boys all this time, when there are men like Fariq out there. He's taking me out again, next week, to some posh restaurant up town. Can't wait.' Rowan wiggled into her seat, she bit her lip, and her eyes looked dreamy.

  'Did you find out anything more about him? What does he do?'

  'No. We didn't really get onto anything like that at all. We were too busy enjoying the music and the view, he took me to Epsom Downs. He definitely works, though, has loads of money.'

  Beth couldn't help herself. 'Be careful, Rowan, please.' But she stopped speaking when she saw Ro's face darken. She couldn't afford to fall out with her. She didn't want to go home yet.