by John Nicholl
‘Yes, d-dear.’
‘He clutched her tightly by a forearm and pulled her to her feet. ‘Right, get it done. I want him gone, and quickly. Do not fuck this up. It won’t go well for you if you do.’
She focussed on the floor. ‘I’ll do my best.’
‘Oh, I know that, Kathy. Because you know the consequences of screwing up again. Now get out there and put on an award-winning performance. I’ll be listening to every single word.’
She fastened the top two buttons of her cardigan, opened the lounge door with quivering fingers and made her way slowly down the hall towards the front door. A part of her wanted to call for help. A part of her wanted to scream for help, and tell the young officer the grim reality of her situation in words he couldn’t ignore. But past experience held her back. She’d made that mistake before. That’s what she told herself. The manipulative bastard would find some way of explaining it all away as if nothing of significance had happened. He’d worm his way out of it just as he always did. He’d get away with it and blame her in the process. He was good at it. Skilled. Such things defined him. ‘Hello, officer. Can I help you?’
PC Harris forced a quickly vanishing smile. ‘I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, Mrs Conner. A neighbour said he heard you screaming earlier in the evening.’
‘Oh, really, he needn’t have concerned himself.’
‘Were you screaming?’
What could she say to that? That’s what she asked herself as she stood staring with a blank expression on her face.
The constable’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you okay, Mrs Conner? Is there anything I can do to help you?’
She tugged at her hair before lowering her hand. ‘I’m good, thanks. Nice of you to offer. I get worked up sometimes, over not very much at all. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’
He took a contact card from the top pocket of his tunic, held it out, but then withdrew his hand quickly when she didn’t accept it. ‘You can contact me at any time at the station if you need to. I’m sure you know the number as well as I do.’
She felt her facial muscles tighten. Why wasn’t he going? Why on earth wasn’t he going? ‘That won’t be necessary.’
He was about to speak again when Inspector Conner suddenly re-entered the corridor and walked towards them, trying to look as casual as possible. ‘Are you happy now? Are you going to sod off and leave us in peace? There must be some criminals that need catching once you’ve had enough of wasting your time here. What do you say, Kathy? Should PC Harris fuck off and let us get back to the telly?’
‘Yes, dear.’
‘Did you hear the lady, Constable?’
He nodded. ‘I did, sir.’
‘Then that should tell you all you need to know.’
‘I’ll be on my way, sir. Thanks for your time Mrs Conner. You know where I am if you need me.’
‘She’s not going to need you, son. Now piss off and do something useful for once in your life.’
‘Goodnight, sir.’
Michael Conner’s contempt was palpable as he slammed the door shut and shoved Kathy in the direction of the lounge. ‘Did you like him, bitch? Did you like your knight in shining armour? Or did you decide that he’s as fucking useless as you are?’
Chapter 7
Detective Sergeant Sarah Hodgson was tucking into a much needed prawn and mayo sandwich when Kieran Harris spotted her across the busy police headquarters canteen. He waved exuberantly and approached her table with a mug of steaming tea in one hand and a plate of double egg and chips in the other. ‘Can I have a quick word please, Sarge?’
She swallowed a mouthful and smiled without parting her lips. ‘Yeah, no probs, pull up a seat and take the weight off.’
‘I’ve got to be honest, Sarge… I was in two minds about saying anything at all.’
‘If there’s something bothering you, you need to tell me. I’ll help if I can. How does that sound?’
He frowned, and linked his fingers in front of him as if in prayer. ‘I was called to Inspector Conner’s home a couple of nights back.’
‘And?’
‘A neighbour rang in to say he’d heard a woman screaming at about ten to nine. There was one hell of a racket apparently. It had all calmed down by the time I got there.’
‘I read the paperwork. You spoke to Mrs Conner, she said she was okay, and that was the end of it, yeah? Job done.’
He screwed up his face. ‘I think there may be more to it, Sarge.’
‘More how?’
‘I checked the records. It was the fifth time we’ve been called to the house in a little over a year. Twice by Mrs Conner herself and three times by the same neighbour. It was the second time in less than a week. If we were dealing with anyone else we’d have done something long before now, wouldn’t we? We’d have made an arrest. It seems obvious.’
‘Now look, I know where you’re coming from, but you need to be very careful what you’re insinuating. I checked the records myself a while back. I was as concerned as you are until I knew the full story.’
PC Harris unlocked his hands and relaxed back in his chair. ‘So, what’s it all about?’
‘Mrs Conner’s suffering from serious mental health issues. Paranoia, hallucinations, voices, the whole unfortunate shebang. Terrible really. I knew her before she met the inspector. She was a lovely girl in those days. She wanted to be a teacher.’
‘So what the hell happened to her?’
‘It all started when she lost the baby. The grief triggered a complete mental meltdown. She hasn’t been the same since.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Can grief really do that?’
‘Yeah, it seems so. Her decline was sudden and dramatic, from what I’m told.’
He swallowed a gulp of tea. ‘I spoke to the woman face to face. She seemed sane enough to me.’
‘How long for? How long were you actually talking to her?’
‘Well, a minute perhaps. Two minutes maximum.’
‘Yeah, exactly. Just a minute or two. Think about what you’re saying. You’re no expert, Kieran. Do you really want to rock the boat on the basis of a fleeting first impression?’
‘She seemed frightened enough to me. I got the distinct impression that she was shitting herself the entire time she was talking to me. And the inspector was seriously pissed off. He made that perfectly clear.’
She sighed loudly. ‘You’ve got to understand that Mike’s had a lot to put up with, poor sod. I don’t know how he manages to stay so cheerful. I don’t think I could handle it nearly as well as he does. I think I’d have walked away long ago. He deserves a frigging medal.’
‘I don’t know, Sarge. It just didn’t feel right. Cheerful’s the last word that springs to mind.’
She pushed her empty mug aside. ‘Well, so much for a relaxing lunch. Thanks a frigging bunch. We could pay Mrs Conner a joint visit just to satisfy your concerns, if you really think it would help. But it’s not going to do either of us any favours when you’re proved wrong. You need to realise that. People like Mike. They respect him. You’re not going to be flavour of the month if you wade in again. I can tell you that much.’
He shifted his gaze to the wall before responding. ‘No you’re right, Sarge. I was just sounding off. You know, thinking out loud. If you’re sure, I’m happy to leave it with you.’
‘You’ve made the right decision. The inspector’s got enough shit to deal with without us stamping all over his private life and making it even more difficult than it already is.’
‘You won’t tell him what I said, will you?’
She looked him in the eye and smiled. ‘Go and get me another coffee and I’ll think about it.’
‘Thanks, Sarge, you’re a star.’
‘Oh, and buy me a jam doughnut if you want to seal the deal. One of those with icing on the top.’
Chapter 8
‘Woof, woof, Battersea Dogs’ Home.’
Kathy smiled as happy memories of times long gone flooded
back. ‘Hilarious as always, sis. How are you doing?’
‘Where’ve you been? You haven’t rung for ages.’
‘Well I’m ringing now.’
‘I’ve tried phoning you loads of times, but all I get is a “number not in use” message.’
She nodded. ‘Yeah, he’s changed the number again. Ex-directory as usual. I don’t even know it myself.’
‘It doesn’t get any better, does it?’
‘No it doesn’t. He’s not an easy man to live with.’
‘That’s the understatement of the bloody century.’
‘Yeah.’
‘So where’s he now?’
‘At work.’
‘So it’s safe to talk?’
‘Yeah, the phone bill only arrived a couple of days back. I’ve got three months or more before he gets the chance to check the next one.’
‘It’s crazy you have to think about things like that.’
She counted slowly to three inside her head. Okay it was now or never. ‘I need your help, Anne. This isn’t a social call.’
‘You only have to ask. You should know that.’
‘I’m pregnant again.’
‘Are you certain?’
‘Yeah, I’ve done a test. There’s no room for doubt.’
‘Oh God, does he know?’
She shook her head. ‘No, and we’ve got to keep it that way. I want to keep this one safe if I can.’
‘Okay, so what do you need from me?’
‘You do realise that he’ll come after you if he finds out you’ve helped me, don’t you? He won’t let it go. He never lets anything go. He hasn’t got a forgiving bone in his body.’
‘Yeah, I hate to admit that the bastard had me conned for a time, but I know you better than anyone. I know when you’re telling the truth. I’ve tried telling Mum. I’ve tried convincing her, but she just doesn’t want to hear it. She swallows every word that comes out of his lying mouth. It’s like he’s got her brainwashed or something.’
Kathy closed her eyes tight shut. ‘Yeah, I know. I’ve tried reaching out to her. I’m just grateful I’ve got you, sis. I’m not all alone with my problems, and I’m grateful. Just knowing you’re there makes me feel better.’
‘Don’t be so daft. Of course I’m here for you. Best friends forever. Just like when we were kids. You and me against the world.’
‘He’s changing, Anne, and not for the better. The violence is getting worse. And he seems to enjoy it more than before. The more pain I’m in, the greater my fear and distress, the more he seems to like it. It excites him. It’s what turns him on. It’s the only thing that turns him on.’
‘That’s not good.’
‘I’ve got to get out of here for good this time. To somewhere he can’t ever find me or the baby. It’s our one and only chance. If he finds out I’m pregnant and can get his hands on me… well, you know what I’m saying. I told you what he did last time. The child never stood a chance.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘Are you still working for the Blood Transfusion Service?’
Anne screwed up her face. ‘Well yeah, but what the…’
‘That’s what I hoped you’d say. I want you to take my blood. As much as possible and as soon as possible.’
Her sister frowned. ‘You want to donate? How’s that going to help you?’
‘It’s important. It couldn’t be more important.’
‘Okay, if you say so. But he’s not going to agree, is he?’
‘I want you to come here to the house. He’s away on a residential course for two days from Monday. I only know he’s going because he left the letter on the sideboard. It’s my lucky break. My lottery win. I’ve got to make the most of it while I can.’
‘I get that you want to leave, who wouldn’t? But what’s the blood donation all about? You’re not making a lot of sense.’
‘Do you trust me?’
‘Of course I do. It goes without saying.’
‘Then please accept it when I tell you it’s best not to know. No more questions, okay? Just do what I ask and leave it at that. It’s better that way. I’ll take care of the rest.’
‘When do you want me to be there?’
She opened her eyes and smiled thinly. This was it. It was really happening. And there was no going back. Not once she’d started. ‘Monday morning after he’s left the area. Say ten o’clock. Is that alright for you? Don’t come a second earlier. If he spots your car he’d get suspicious and come back to the house. That would be the end of it.’
‘I’ll have to book some time off work. But, yeah, I’ll be there at ten.’
‘Have you got everything you’ll need? All the equipment?’
‘Yeah, no problem. That’s not an issue. It’s in the boot of the car.’
‘How much can you take?’
‘It’s usually four hundred and sixty ml per donation.’
‘What’s that in old money?’
‘A bit less than a pint.’
‘How do you store it?’
Anne laughed despite, or perhaps due to the tension. ‘This is a bit like being on Mastermind. Specialist subject: The Blood Transfusion Service.’
Kathy smiled despite herself. ‘So what’s the answer for one point?’
‘It’s kept in specially produced bags.’
‘And it doesn’t coagulate?’
‘They contain an anticoagulant. It’s not an issue.’
‘So how’s it stored?’
‘It’s just kept chilled. Nothing complicated.’
‘So I could keep it outside at this time of year? That wouldn’t be a problem?’
‘It wouldn’t be ideal, but yeah, I guess so, if you really wanted to.’
Kathy took a deep breath and smiled. Things were going her way for a change. It could work, couldn’t it? ‘I’m going to need four bags and a pair of those thin rubber gloves. I don’t know what they’re called.’
‘Do you mean surgical gloves?’
‘Yeah, that’s the ones.’
‘What on earth’s this all about, Kathy? If you weren’t my sister I’d be putting the phone down at this point.’
‘I can’t tell you. Please accept that. But I know what I’m doing.’
‘It’s all getting too weird for words.’
Kathy held her breath. ‘But you’ll do it, yeah? You’ll bring them with you like we said?’
‘I guess so. If it really matters that much to you.’
‘I can’t get away without them. It’s as simple as that.’
‘Okay, I’ve said I’ll bring them, and I will. No questions asked.’
She sighed, very close to tears. ‘Thanks, sis, I’m truly grateful. Park well away from the house. That’s important. The old bloke living next door’s a right curtain twitcher. And don’t knock. He’d hear and stick his nose in. I’ll leave the back door open.’
‘I’ll see you on Monday morning, Kathy. Is there anything else you’re going to need? Now’s the time to tell me.’
‘I’m completely skint. He doesn’t allow me access to money. Any chance of a loan?’
‘How does five hundred quid sound? It’s the best I can do without talking to Gary.’
‘I really appreciate your help. You’re a lifesaver.’
Anne took a deep breath, sucking the air deep into her lungs. ‘I really hope you know what you’re doing. I must be bloody mad.’
‘You and me both, sis. But he’s driven me to it. It’s my only way out.’
‘Oh, and one last thing. Make sure you’ve eaten something and have plenty to drink before I get there, non-alcoholic.’
‘So it’s happening.’
‘Yeah, it seems so.’
Chapter 9
Kathy’s troubled mind drifted into a morbid daydream almost as soon as she put the phone down. Mike was watching her every move. Listening to her every word. He knew all about her plan of escape. In specific detail. And all about the pregnancy too. He was a p
oliceman after all. A professional snooper.
She screwed up her eyes and pictured him striding towards her with a glint in his eye and the white tester in one hand. He was forming his hands into tight fists now. Raising one in the air and foaming at the mouth like the rabid dog he was. And then he punched her, bang, right on the point of her chin, before grabbing her tightly by the throat with powerful fingers, hurling her to the floor and stamping down on her abdomen time and time and time again. And he was laughing at her. Laughing at her dead child as if it were the greatest joke of his life. The funniest thing he’s ever encountered. How could he? What the hell was wrong with the man? The bastard. The absolute bastard!
She looked up at the clock and was suddenly back in the present, cold but sweating, crying and quivering like a raspberry jelly. Was it a vision of the future? That’s what she asked herself. It could be. If he caught her. If he discovered her intentions. What to do? What on earth to do? Backing down wasn’t an option. There was no room for the status quo. No room for retreat. Her life had changed forever for good or bad. It was just a matter of how.
She seriously considered picking up the phone and dialling her sister’s number again, but she quickly decided she’d asked enough of her. If she were to obtain the last piece of the jigsaw, she was going to have to do it herself. The burden was hers and hers alone.
Kathy looked to the left and right, checking the street repeatedly before finally exiting the house and closing the door behind her for the first time unsupervised in almost three years. Was she doing the right thing? Surely she was doing the right thing. What other choice was there? She had to get it done. Life or death. Do or die.
As she hurried down the street with her coat collar raised and her woollen hat pulled low to mask as much of her face as possible, she knew it was the biggest gamble of her life. A last throw of the dice. She flinched at the sight and sound of every passing car and every pedestrian. Every driver and passer-by became her husband in her mind’s eye. Every face distorted and morphed into his. Every sound became an all too familiar threat screaming in her ears. I’m going to kill you, bitch. And I’m going to kill the brat with a stamp or a punch. You’re not fooling anyone. I’m coming after you, faster and faster. Run, Kathy, run. You’re not going anywhere. Too slow, bitch. Too slow. You’re never going to get away.