by Jess Ryder
‘You’ll do what you want.’ She picked up her mug and made for the stairs. ‘You’ve never once taken my advice; why should I expect you to start now?’ I folded my arms angrily as she went up to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
* * *
I was upset about the argument with Mum and her words reverberated in my head as I tried to sleep. But it was mostly the anticipation of the day ahead that kept me awake. I was aware that I was taking a risk, but totally convinced there was no other option. Now that I knew – or at least believed I knew – where Emily was, I felt compelled to go and get her. Any mother would do the same, surely?
Mum was still asleep when I left the house, and I didn’t wake her to say goodbye. She would only try to stop me, I thought, and I couldn’t face more conflict. I needed positive energy to take me through what was bound to be a challenging day.
I took the train to King’s Cross station, where Jen had arranged to collect me. Her silver Mazda swooped into view and she drew up. I slung my bag on the back seat, then got in beside her.
‘Okay?’ she said. ‘You ready for this?’
‘Of course.’
She set off in the direction of the M1. The traffic was hellish, the weather so warm we had to have the air con on full blast. It felt strange to be sitting in the front passenger seat, when only a few months earlier I’d been consigned to the back with Emily. I remembered that journey to the christening so well. How I’d resented Jen for barging into the occasion and behaving as if she and Nick were still married. I glanced behind me to the empty back seat and visualised Emily sitting there, wearing the new white dress I’d bought for her in Asda.
Then a thought struck me. ‘Shit. We haven’t got a car seat.’
Jen shrugged as if to say it didn’t matter. ‘We’ll buy one. Let’s get hold of her first.’
‘I still don’t know exactly where we’re going.’
‘North of Kendal, pretty much in the middle of nowhere. The house is tucked away out of sight, down its own track.’
‘The perfect place to hide,’ I mused.
‘Yup. But we’re going to have to be careful. I mean, we can’t just drive up; he’ll see us coming from miles off. We have to wait until dark and go on foot.’
Jen accelerated as we hit a clear stretch of motorway, and soon we were driving at ninety miles an hour. I surreptitiously gripped the edges of my seat as the scenery flashed by. ‘So what’s the plan for getting into the house?’
‘The owners keep a key to the back door in the outside loo. It saves having lots of front door keys; makes it easier if people go out walking and want to come back at different times.’ She registered my doubtful look. ‘The system won’t have changed, I promise you. That’s how it is up there. It’s not like London, where you can’t even pop to the postbox without setting the alarm.’
‘Even so,’ I said, ‘I can’t imagine Nick not making sure everything’s locked up at night. He’s fanatical about security.’
‘But he has no idea that we know where he is. He’s not expecting us, so he won’t be on the alert.’
‘What if the key’s not there? Then we’re stuffed.’
Jen huffed. ‘Have you got a better plan?’
‘No, I … er, I was just saying …’ I tailed off. I didn’t want to criticise her, it wasn’t fair. ‘You know the place, you know how it works … I’m sure you’re right about the key.’
‘We’ll be in and out in a few seconds; he won’t have a clue. I wish I could be there to see his face when he discovers Emily has gone.’ She threw me a conspiratorial look and laughed.
‘I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,’ I grinned.
‘Well we are, sweetie, we bloody are.’
We drove a few more miles in easy silence and I tried to relax. Jen zoomed confidently up the fast lane, forcing slower drivers to move across. I felt as if I was seeing her properly for the first time. All she’d been before was a whining voice on the end of the phone, an unwelcome visitor who kept turning up. She’d been the cross I’d had to bear as punishment for falling in love and finding happiness. I’d felt guilty, but I’d also despised her neediness, the way she clung to the past and wouldn’t let go. Now she’d broken free at last, and unchained, she was a force to be reckoned with. It would never occur to Nick for a second that we’d be working together against him. Once we’d rescued Emily and had her safe, I would take great pleasure in making sure he knew the whole story.
* * *
It took several hours to reach Kendal, not helped by a couple of traffic jams and a longish stop at a service station while Jen took a power nap. I felt bad for not being able to share the driving, promising myself that when this nightmare was over I would have lessons again – only this time from a proper instructor.
We stopped at a little pub for our evening meal. I was feeling too nervous to eat but Jen insisted I have some carbohydrates to keep my energy levels up. We still had about eight miles to go, up and down hills and along some twisty roads. She was fretting about where to leave the car without getting too close to the house.
‘We’d better park while it’s still light. You can’t see a bloody thing when it’s dark. I don’t want to end up in a ditch.’ The pub grub was lamentable, but neither of us bothered to mention it. ‘I hope I can still find the turn-off.’
‘How many times did you go there?’ I asked, turning the sticky pasta over with my fork.
‘Oh, half a dozen at least. Maybe as many as ten times. It was our special place.’ She took a sip of wine and breathed out a sigh. ‘We used to go for these incredibly long walks together, making plans for our future, sharing all our hopes and dreams. When we were up in the mountains, anything seemed possible.’ She paused and stared into the middle distance. I could see her and Nick as teenage sweethearts, tramping the paths arm in arm, heads locked together. It surprised me that I didn’t feel a twinge of jealousy.
Jen carried on talking. ‘There’s this lake at the bottom of the garden; it belongs to the house. It’s not very big, but it’s deep – the water’s freezing, but it didn’t stop us swimming. The owners had a rowing boat we could use. We’d take it out in the dark, lighting our way with a lantern on the prow. It was so romantic. In fact, Nicky proposed to me on that lake.’
‘Gosh.’ I almost choked on my mouthful.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.’ She pushed her plate away. ‘What a mess we’ve made of our lives, you and me, eh? At least you only wasted three years. I managed twenty-bloody-four.’
We paid the bill and made our way to the car. Jen programmed the satnav, though it seemed to be having trouble orientating itself, and we set off into the twilight. I was aware that we were driving through some gorgeous scenery, but I couldn’t take it in. My mind was too full of what was to come.
The road narrowed as we plunged into the valley. The satnav gave up and we couldn’t find the track for the house, not helped by the sign being obscured by an overgrown hedge. Jen drove past it twice before I spotted the entrance. She screeched to a halt in the middle of the lane. ‘Hmm,’ she said. ‘We’ll have to park under that tree.’ I winced as she put the car into reverse and bumped onto the grass verge, slamming on the brakes just in time. ‘Perfect,’ she said, turning off the engine. ‘Now we just wait until it’s properly dark and Nicky’s gone to bed.’
I unbuckled my seat belt. ‘We don’t know for sure that he’s there. I thought we were going to stake the house out first.’
‘No need. If the Range Rover’s parked outside, we’ll know,’ she replied, lifting her nose. ‘I can smell the enemy, can’t you?’
I felt impatient. We were so near to Emily and yet she seemed as far out of reach as ever. I leaned my elbow on the open window and tried to listen to the birds singing themselves to sleep. But my head was full of Emily’s tiny voice – the cute way she said ‘Mama! Mama!’ when she held out her arms for me to pick her up. I made myself a silent promise that once I g
ot her back, I would never, ever let her out of my sight again.
Jen kept telling me to look at the sky, its colours fading from orange through to indigo as the sun dipped beneath the mountain to our left. ‘God, I’d forgotten how beautiful it is,’ she said. Darkness settled on our shoulders like a soft cloak. The birds fell silent. We waited, and we waited. I wanted to walk down the path and hide in the garden, but Jen vetoed that idea. ‘We must wait till after midnight,’ she told me.
‘But that’s another two hours!’
‘Trust me, Tasha. If he’s still up, this won’t work. We have to be sure that he’s fast asleep, not watching a bit of late-night telly.’
‘I know … I know. I just want to grab her and run, I suppose.’
At midnight, she finally relented. We climbed out of the car and switched on our torches. It was pitch-black; you couldn’t even see any stars. On any other night, I would have stood in awe at the quiet beauty of the place, but all I wanted to do was get to the house as fast as my torch would allow.
‘I can’t wait to see her, I can’t wait,’ I said, feeling the adrenalin kicking in.
‘Whisper,’ Jen hissed. ‘The sound carries easily here.’
The track was bordered by high hedgerows, which rustled as we walked past. It only took a couple of minutes to reach the end, and the path suddenly widened out into a large gravel driveway. I gasped as I saw the Range Rover, guarding the front door like a giant black dog. So they’re definitely here, I thought. Just Nick and Emily, or Sam too? In all our planning, we hadn’t really taken that possibility into account. But seeing the car, and remembering Nick was banned from driving, was making me wonder. Overpowering one man between us was possible, but two?
I was expecting security lights to flash on, but there didn’t seem to be any. I peered through the darkness, trying to make out the shape of the house. It looked very solid: stone-built, double-fronted, with a large sloping porch. All the internal lights were off – Nick must have gone to bed.
Jen gestured at me. ‘Walk on the grass, it’s quieter. This way.’ I followed her around the back to where a small brick outhouse stood. She carefully lifted the latch on the old wooden door. It squeaked as it opened and we both held our breath. She felt against the wall, smiling as she found what she’d been looking for her. Triumphantly she held up a key tied on a loop of string.
‘Told you,’ she whispered.
We tiptoed across some paving stones to the back door. It looked old and warped; surely it would stick. My heart was in my mouth as Jen eased the key round and gave the door a gentle push with her shoulder. The glass pane shuddered noisily as it opened. We stopped, listening fearfully for the sound of any movement. But there were no footsteps crossing the ceiling or creaks on the stairs.
‘You wait here,’ Jen said. ‘I’ll get her and hand her over, okay? Then you run.’
‘But I want—’
‘I know where I’m going. Two of us will only make more noise.’
‘Okay, okay.’ I tugged her sleeve. ‘Good luck. And thanks, Jen. I owe you one.’
She raised her eyebrows and grinned, then tiptoed across the tiled floor and disappeared into the shadows of the house.
27
Then
Natasha
* * *
I stood in the kitchen, knees dissolving, my heart battering my ribs. I tried to steady my breathing, telling myself I would need all my strength to carry Emily at speed back down the track.
My eyes blinked in the gloom. There was some washing-up in the sink. I could see one of her beakers and a screwed-up bib on the worktop and had to resist the urge to pick them up. The clock on the wall was ticking loudly. Only a few seconds had passed, but it felt like hours. My nerves were stretched to breaking point, about to snap. I wanted to charge up the stairs, roaring a battle cry. I wanted to run into Emily’s room and snatch her.
But I had to be patient.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
What was happening? Had Jen found her yet? I strained for sounds of her moving about, but she was as silent as a cat. I felt the blood pumping around my head in time with the clock. I counted twenty seconds. Thirty. Forty. A minute. Tick-tock. It seemed to be growing louder, echoing through the kitchen.
She must have found Emily by now. She must be creeping down the stairs with her, step by careful step. Please God, don’t let Emily wake up. I stared at the doorway, waiting for Jen to enter. Stepping forward, I held out my arms in anticipation, desperate to wrap them around my little girl. Where was she? Why weren’t they here? Had something gone wrong?
I heard a noise behind me and felt a shadow cross my back. Before I could turn, somebody had grabbed me across the chest with both arms and lifted me up. The torch fell from my hand and went flying across the floor. I screamed, kicking out with my legs as he carried me through the kitchen. I could feel his beard scratching the side of my neck, smell his sweet familiar breath.
‘Let me go! Let me go!’
We were in the hallway. It was pitch-black; I couldn’t see a thing. He was crushing my ribs and I couldn’t breathe. My cries were turning into squawks. Suddenly he dropped me and I crashed to the floor on my knees, then he picked me up under my armpits and pushed me into a dark cupboard, kicking at my side to squash me in. I heard the door slam shut, the sliding of a bolt.
‘Nick!’ I cried. ‘You bastard!’
My kneecaps were stinging with pain, but I shuffled onto them and felt for a light switch. There wasn’t one. I opened my eyes wide, trying to make them adjust to the darkness. Above me was the underside of a wooden staircase. It creaked noisily as he climbed the stairs. I put all my weight against the little door and pushed against the bolt – it rattled, but it wouldn’t budge. There was no way I could escape.
I puffed out an exasperated sigh. We’d completely messed up, like a couple of bungling amateurs. Nick must have still been awake; maybe he’d even been on guard. He must have caught Jen first, then come for me. I had no idea what had happened to her. There were no screams coming from upstairs, no sounds of a struggle – what had he done? I didn’t want to imagine it. He had handled me so roughly, hadn’t even said a word. I felt the bruise where he’d kicked me, and tears pricked behind my eyes. What was he capable of? I felt so scared, so vulnerable. The house was miles from anywhere. Nobody would hear our screams. I hadn’t given Mum the address; I didn’t even know it myself. I swore loudly at my stupidity. Why hadn’t I listened to her?
Somebody was crying, the sound coming from upstairs. I pressed my ear against the crack of the door and listened. It wasn’t Jen; those were a child’s cries. My child. I felt my gut wrenching, my stomach rolling over and over.
‘Emily! Emily!’ I pounded on the door with my fists. ‘Emily! Mama’s here! Mama’s here!’ But I knew it was hopeless, there was no way she would hear me. Her screams rose in pitch; she sounded hysterical. Why was she crying so much? I hammered again until my fists hurt. ‘Nick! Let me out! Let me go to her!’
Nobody came. The crying was fainter, but I could still hear it. It sounded as if she’d been moved to another part of the house. I started to hear thumping sounds as if something – or someone – was being dragged across the floor. Could it be a body?
My kneecaps were killing me, so I shifted onto my bottom. There was no point in crying or banging on the door. I had to think about what to do next. My pupils had dilated by now and I could make out several objects in the cupboard. A hoover. A couple of plastic boxes of cleaning equipment. A dustpan and brush. A folding chair. Would any of them make a weapon? Nick would have to take me out sooner or later and I needed to be prepared. Armed. I started rifling through the boxes, lifting up bottles of cleaning fluid and canisters of polish. A squirt in the eyes with one of these might be enough, I thought, to enable me to get past him and escape. Or maybe I should whack him with the metal tube of the hoover. Either way, it would be difficult to attack him from a crouching position inside the cupboard. I put the spray bottle next to
the door, its nozzle pointed forward.
The stairs above me shook as somebody ran down them, and a thin sliver of light appeared under the cupboard door. I heard footsteps going back and forth, hard soles on the tiles. They sounded like Nick’s steps. Then a heavy door squeaked open – I guessed it was the front door. Something was happening. The stairs creaked and moaned as somebody else came down, and Emily’s cries, which had never really gone away, were growing louder. Who was holding her? The only person I could think of was Sam.
I held my breath and tried to piece the picture together from the sounds. Objects were being shifted around. Luggage, perhaps. Was Nick moving out? Was he going to leave me here, stuck in this cupboard? And what had he done to Jen? Emily was crying in strangulated sobs and I could imagine her little chest heaving up and down, her face red and puffy, those beautiful blue eyes liquid with tears.
She must have been put down on the floor, because I could hear her feet pattering on the tiles. Her steps came closer. Then stopped. I was sure she was just on the other side of the door. I banged it with my fists. ‘Emily! Emily! It’s Mama! Mama!’
‘Mama?’ she echoed.
‘I’m here, right here! In the cupboard.’
‘For fuck’s sake, get her away from there, you idiot!’ Nick shouted. ‘Put her in the car.’
‘Sorry … Come on, sweetie, come to me.’
It was Jen’s voice.
I gasped and fell backwards, hitting something sharp on the wall behind me. Pain spread across my shoulder blades. Jen? But … but it couldn’t be …
My baby squealed in protest as Jen picked her up, her footsteps fading as she walked away. I tried to shout after them, but no sound came out. Nick ran up the stairs again, the sounds disappearing into another part of the house.
I clutched my hair and screwed up my face, trying to think, trying to make sense of it. Jen was on my side, not Nick’s. We both hated his guts; she was helping me to get revenge. We were in it together – it was girl power, women doing it for themselves. No point in going to the police or battling through the courts; the only way to get Emily back was to fight dirty, that was what she’d said. And I’d believed her. Every word.