by G. Bailey
The place doesn’t have a colour in sight, even the grass is dead, and the trees look like they are ill. The building is massive but looks like a reformed warehouse. There are gates to get into the driveway, and the building itself has moss growing all over it. Some of the windows look broken, and all of them have thick bars on the outside. There is a massive door with steps up to it, and I pull my car into the parking bay next to five other cars. I look over at Tilly, who I don’t even want to bring into this place. It looks like something out of a horror film, and the online pictures must have been years old because they had flowers and the pavement wasn’t cracked in them.
“You don’t have to come in, I know this place looks dodgy as hell,” I mutter, and she takes my hand as I turn the car off and pull the keys out.
“I’m in this with you, remember?” she says, and I lift her hand, kissing it gently before we get out of the car.
I wrap my arm around Tilly’s waist as we walk up the steps, and I hold the door open for her. There is a big desk with stairs behind it, and several doors in the corridor. Everything is grey in here, much like the outside of the building. The woman behind the desk must be in her sixties, with long, grey hair and a nurse’s uniform on, but she matches the décor, too.
“Can I help you?” she asks me, and I smooth my suit down before answering her.
“Is there someone named Julia Smith here?” I ask, and she nods.
“Ah, you’re her visitor this week. Her frequent visitor told us you would be coming,” she says, picking up the old-fashioned phone. It looks close to falling apart, like most of the building if the cracks in the walls and holes in the floorboards are anything to go from. How has this place not been shut down?
“Please write your names and sign here,” she says, handing me a pen.
I write both mine and Tilly’s name down before I hand her back the pen. Tilly gives me a strange look, not knowing what is going on either, but we wait as the lady speaks to someone. The door to the left is opened, and a security man comes out. The man is young, with dark hair and a serious expression, and he’s dressed in a blue uniform.
“This way,” he says, holding the door open for us.
I walk into the large room, which is full of windows overlooking the dead grass and dead trees. The place is dark, a few of the lights need replacing, and it looks in bad shape with bits of wallpaper falling off. The room is full of old and young people, who don’t look like they notice we have walked in at all. Most of the young people I see are just staring at their hands in their laps, and one girl with black hair is rocking back and forth in her seat.
I pull Tilly closer to me with my hand, and she rests her head on my arm as neither of us know what to say about the sight we are seeing. Most are talking to themselves, some are playing cards or chess in the corners of the room, but no one is talking loud. There’s no noise in the room, and that’s the creepy part. I turn and watch as the security man locks the door behind us.
“Which one is Julia Smith?” I ask him, and he gives me a puzzled look. I guess it must be strange to have someone turn up for a visit and not know who they are looking for.
“You’re here for Julia? The woman is a little crazy so don’t get too close. She tends to flip and attack visitors, and you don’t want her doing that to your pretty girlfriend,” he says, and I glare at him. I don’t need a warning, and if Arthur was visiting this person, I respect her for trying to attack him. “Dude . . . just a warning,” he says, holding his hands up.
Tilly squeezes my hand to get my attention, and I force myself not to hurt the innocent security guard for being an idiot.
“Just show us,” I say, and he nods, moving in front of us and walking through the people in the room. I stop in my tracks when I see who he is pointing at. Sitting in a chair, looking out the window, is an older version of the woman I have seen in photos. I can’t remember her as a child, but I would know my own mother anywhere. Even one who left when I was a child.
“Mother,” I say tightly, and I feel Tilly squeeze my hand in comfort. My mother doesn’t respond as she stares out the window in a haze. I don’t see anyone other than my mother as I walk forward and sit in the seat opposite her. When she finally turns to look at me, I see her green eyes and her brown hair, which has started to go grey at the top. But it’s her emotionless eyes that do me in.
“Who are you?” she asks me.
“Harley King,” I say, and she holds a hand out.
“Harley . . . I’m Julia, and I like your name,” she says, and I shake her hand. There wasn’t an ounce of recognition from her when I said my name. My mother’s name isn’t Julia.
“Do you not know who I am?” I ask her, letting go of Tilly’s hand and kneeling down so I’m at her level, and she smiles.
“No, but you look familiar. Like a ghost,” she says, and then she laughs a little. “I like ghosts,” she adds, and I look over at the guard who watches us.
“I will be right back, Julia,” I tell her, and she nods, looking out the window again. I stand up and move closer to Tilly, who just watches.
“I’m going to find out what I can. Will you talk with her? See if she will tell you anything?” I whisper.
“Of course,” she says, knowing the story I had been told about my mother walking out on us all when I was a child. I don’t believe she did, not if she can’t remember us and is in a place like this. I look back once more at my mother, seeing the dazed look she is giving the window. I wonder how many drugs she is on.
“I want to know what happened to my mother to have her end up in here. I’m her next of kin, and I thought she had just walked out on us as children. Not that she is clearly not in her right mind and in a mental hospital,” I tell the security guard, whose eyes widen.
“Look, I will take you to the boss. She will be the only one who can tell you anything. I’ve only been working here a few months, man,” the guy says, holding his hands in the air. I take a deep breath and nod at him. He opens the door for me and goes to talk to the old lady behind the desk, who picks up the phone and rings someone.
“Go and watch my mother and girlfriend. If anything happens to them while I’m here, I will personally blame you,” I warn the man, who gulps and quickly goes back into the room.
I pace the entrance hall for what seems like ages, but likely isn’t long, until an older woman walks down the stairs behind the desk. The woman has dark-brown hair, a serious expression, and is wearing a suit.
“I’m Mrs. Banna. You are Mr. King, I believe?” she asks me, and I nod. She hands me a folder and then gestures to the seat.
“Everything we have on Miss Julia Smith is in there, but I can run through what we know if you wish?” she asks me.
“Yes.” I nod curtly.
“I had just started working here when Julia was brought in. She had been found in a hospital, with no identity and a head injury. They say she was found washed up on a beach and when she woke up with no knowledge of her name, they brought her here,” she tells me. I wonder what my father did to her, to have her end up on a beach with a head injury. I doubt she did it to herself, and my father was sick enough to do it.
“Why did you keep her here? If it was only a loss of memory? She isn’t crazy?” I ask her, and she shakes her head at me.
“Your mother has episodes where she attacks people randomly. She wakes up in the night screaming but can’t remember what was scaring her in her dreams when she wakes up. To be honest with you, if she had a family to go home to, it could happen, but until now . . .” she says, and she doesn’t need to finish the sentence. She hasn’t had anyone until now.
“Arthur visits her, doesn’t he?” I ask.
“Yes, there’s a man who visits her. He visits a lot of the people here and is just a good man–” she says with a smile.
“He is not a good man and is likely the one who put my mother in here with help from my father,” I spit out, standing up. The woman looks shocked but doesn't know what to say t
o me.
“I will find a better place for my mother to stay; she can’t be left here. I will pay for it all to be sorted and to have her close to my home. Despite who my mother was, she is my mother and my responsibility,” I say, and the woman nods her understanding. “I will also be calling my private doctor to have a look at her and see what medications she should be on. She looks out of it in there,” I comment.
“She is on–”
“I don’t want to know. I’m leaving,” I say and go to the room, banging on the door. The security man opens it up, giving me a nervous look as I walk over to Tilly and my mother. My mother is laughing a little at whatever Tilly is saying to her.
“Lovely girl,” she tells Tilly, holding her hand.
“It was lovely to meet you, Julia,” Tilly says.
“Come back?” she asks, but her eyes look up at me.
“I will come back, and I have some brothers who would like to meet you, if you want?” I ask her, kneeling down to her level. When I kneel, I see the large cut that goes from her forehead and into her hairline. Her dark hair covers it further, but it looks bad, even knowing its age.
“Yes. Meet more people.” She nods her head excitedly, and it makes her seem more childlike than the adult she is. I smile tightly and take Tilly’s hand as I straighten up.
“Bye, Julia,” Tilly says.
“Bye, Tilly,” she says, and then she looks back out at the window. I turn with Tilly and walk out of the room.
“Watch my mother. It’s your new job, and I will pay you a fortune to make sure she is safe until she leaves here very soon,” I tell the security guard, whose eyes widen, and he quickly nods.
“I will protect her for you, Mr. King,” he says.
“Good man,” I reply, waiting for him to open the door. When we are both sitting back in my car, I rest my head against the steering wheel.
“Did she say anything to you?” I ask Tilly, who just silently waits for me to move. Just there supporting me, knowing I need a minute.
“Nothing much. She talked about a show on TV she liked but nothing else. She kind of acts a little like a–”
“Child.” I finish her sentence, looking up as she nods.
“They gave me this. But basically it says she was found washed up on a beach, with complete memory loss and a bad head injury,” I say, handing her the folder.
“Harley . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“How am I going to tell my brothers this? The mother they hate for walking out on them, likely didn’t walk out at all. It’s more likely our dad got rid of her, and then Arthur kept her here to use against us at some point,” I say, leaning back in my seat.
“You tell them the truth and let them make their decisions. They are adults now, Harley,” she tells me, and I know she is right, but part of me still wants to protect them from this.
“I still see them as the boys I tried to protect from my father,” I tell her, and she gives me a sad smile, and then her phone starts ringing in her pocket.
“It’s Devon, I’m sure it can wait . . .” she says.
“No, it’s okay; answer it,” I tell her, and she does.
“What?” she says, her face draining of all colour before she drops the phone out of her hand and stares at me.
“Tilly?” I ask, wondering what the hell her brother just said.
“Daniel knocked my mother out and took my baby,” she says in a horrified whisper. I pick the phone up off her lap.
“Devon, it’s me. Call everyone and get them to my house. We have a dead man to find,” I say.
109
Tilly
“Tilly?” I hear someone saying my name, but I just keep staring at the empty baby rocker in the living room, unaware of everyone moving around, the police who just came into the room, or Izzy, who is shaking my shoulder. The word ‘kidnap’ just keeps repeating over and over in my mind. I never should have stayed here, I knew he would find me.
“Tilly?” Harley asks, kneeling in front of me. I try to focus on him, the stress that’s all over his face, but everything feels numb. I know I’m in shock, but I can’t process anything other than the fact my baby is gone, and my mother is in the hospital after being knocked out.
“The police need you to tell them everything you can about Daniel. Okay? It will help find him and find baby–”
“Hope. Her name is Hope Elizabeth King,” I tell him, and there’s a silence around us as I speak the first words I’ve said since Devon called me.
“Tilly . . .” I hear Izzy gasp, knowing my baby’s middle name is after her.
“I will find our daughter, I promise you,” he tells me, and if anyone else would have said that to me, I wouldn’t have believed them, but Harley is different.
“Madam?” a female police officer asks, moving to sit on the other side of me and pulling out a pad and pen. “Anything you can tell me, we can use. We have every available police officer looking for him and checking every car that leaves the village. But we need to know some things,” she tells me.
“I’m going to find him. I will bring Hope back home, Tilly,” Harley says, and I can’t speak as I watch him walk out, with Devon and Luke at his side. Sebastian, Elliot, and everyone other than Izzy is out looking. Except for my mum who is in the hospital with my father at her side.
“We spoke to your mother, she gave us a photo of Daniel. She told me that you ran away from him because he attempted to rape you, is that right?” the police officer asks once the room is empty of everyone other than Izzy and me.
“Yes. I didn’t know he knew about the baby,” I say in a whisper, watching as she writes things down on a pad.
“Tilly thought she saw him a few weeks ago, didn’t you?” Izzy says, and I nod. I should never have stayed here, not when my family came. I should have taken Hope and ran.
“Yes. Also, I’ve had someone cold call me several times a day, every day. I thought it was someone selling something with a bad connection,” I tell her and then burst into tears. “I’m so stupid, and Hope is gone because of me.”
“This is not your fault, Tilly,” Izzy says, pulling me into a hug. I let her rub my back as I haven’t been able to stop crying for a long time.
“It’s been hours, he could be hours away with her by now,” I say, knowing we have no idea how long my mum was out, and how long he has had Hope for.
“Harley won’t give up until he finds her, none of them will. Hope is a King, and we stick together,” Izzy tells me as I keep sobbing.
“If it helps, Miss, we believe he didn’t leave the village. Usually, men like this are obsessed with the mother as well. He might be waiting to lure you out,” the officer says gently, but I can’t hear her as I stand up.
“Then we go and search the village, I can’t stay here,” I say, smoothing my top down and picking up a tissue off the side. I wipe my eyes as Izzy stands up.
“Miss, we recommend that you stay here in case there is any news. I have to stay with you for your own protection,” she tells me.
“Then come with me, I’m not staying here. If Daniel wants me, he can find me. I don’t care, but I want to find my daughter,” I say, knowing that staying in this house, surrounded by her things, isn’t going to help me find her. Daniel is playing a game, a game to mess with me.
“Okay,” the officer says, nodding. Izzy doesn’t say a word as we get into my car and drive into town.
110
Harley
“You sure?” I ask Tilly’s oldest brother, Grayson, over the phone. I wasn’t surprised he had my number, as I checked the twentieth hotel we have been in today. They hadn’t seen any babies, and there has been no news from the police. The police have started going door to door in the village, but I doubt he is stupid enough to stay there.
“Look, don’t ask how I found out, but he is at that hotel in Blackpool. Go and get my niece back. I’m trusting you, Harley King. With everything I know about you and your family’s past, I’m trusting you,” he tells
me, making it clear he knows a lot about my family as well. What the hell does Grayson Fox do for a living?
“You can trust me. Call Devon, as he’s with the others, and call Tilly to let her know what’s going on. I’m with Luke, my brother, and close to Blackpool,” I say, knowing we have been checking all the hotels all last night and all day today. It’s been over forty-eight hours since he took Hope. Thank God, we have some kind of lead. The police have been useless, and Tilly sounds more desperate every time I call her.
“I know who Luke is, and I will call the others. Bring Hope home,” he says, and then the line goes dead. I pull my car out of the carpark.
“Grayson says he is certain Daniel is at an old hotel near the beach in Blackpool,” I say, and Luke nods.
“Let’s find him then,” he says, and neither of us say anything more as I drive the ten minutes it takes to get to Blackpool. We were close. I pull up outside the little hotel that is on a range of old hotels on a tiny road. It’s an excellent place to hide; I’m sure the people who run it would take cash.
“I will get Hope, and you take her to the car. Daniel is mine to deal with,” I tell Luke.
“Dude, I’m not going to let you kill him. This isn’t The Cage, and Arthur isn’t here to hide the body. You just escaped, we all did. Let’s just get Hope and leave,” Luke says, pulling on my arm, but I shake him off.
“I won’t kill him, but he will wish I had,” I spit out and storm off up the steps of the hotel.
The entrance hall is small, with a desk and a young woman sitting behind it. She stands up when we walk in. “How can I help you? Do you have a booking?”
“No booking, but a man is staying here with a small baby. Which room?” I ask her.
“We can’t give information out about customers staying here,” she says, and I reach into my pocket, pulling out my wallet. I pull out the ten fifty-pound notes in there and slap it down on the desk.
“You can tell me, and take the cash. Or I can come around there and find the information I want,” I tell her, having had enough of this messing around.