She Did It: You think you know her - think again.

by Mel Sherratt

  ‘Give me your phone.’

  ‘No!’ Tamara had it in her hands now but Esther pulled it from her. She could see the record button on red.

  ‘You bitch!’ She slapped Tamara again. ‘How could you betray me like that?’

  ‘I had to! I need to know the truth. You can’t blame me for something I haven’t done!’

  ‘I won’t if you give me the money!’

  ‘Esther, you’re scaring me!’ Tamara held up her arms in surrender, her voice cracking with emotion. ‘Please don’t hurt me. I know you’re grieving over Jack and are very emotional.’

  ‘I’m not grieving,’ Esther sniggered. ‘I lost my temper and lashed out. I should have stayed in control.’ She pulled out a knife from her jacket pocket. Flicking out the blade, she held it out in front of her.

  ‘Esther, please!’ Tamara cried.

  ‘It’s all right for you.’ Esther took another step towards her. ‘You would have been fine in your little fancy room with your group hugs and therapy sessions. I was in prison for eighteen months, with murderers and filth. I was treated like scum.’ She pointed to her temple. ‘It messes with your head. You never forget things like that. I had it so hard and you—’ she pressed forward with the knife again ‘—you had it so fucking easy.’

  ‘Esther, stop!’

  Tamara was crying now. Esther had her cornered. There was nowhere for her to go. But Tamara wouldn’t stop talking.

  ‘Let me help you through your grief,’ she said. ‘We can talk about Jack and your feelings for him and—’

  ‘You think I’m grieving for Jack?’ Esther’s laughter cackled. ‘I hate that bastard for what he did!’

  Tamara’s brow furrowed. ‘I don’t understand. I – I thought you loved him?’

  ‘He hurt me and he paid for it,’ Esther continued. ‘He wasn’t supposed to die though. I was only going to wreck his marriage but he made me so angry. After all the flirting and the dinners and the kisses, he wouldn’t sleep with me. He bottled out at the last minute. I was fed up of being rejected, but rebuffed by him? It was the lowest form of insult.’

  ‘But you asked me to cover so that it wouldn’t come out about your affair!’

  ‘There was no affair. I lied about that too.’

  Tamara sobbed. ‘Have you told me the truth about anything?’

  Esther shook her head, a manic grin. ‘All those work references, they were made up. I learned all about social media and marketing in prison. I took some classes to get me through, alleviate the boredom. It was the only thing I’m grateful for. I’ve never lived in Shoreditch either. Oh, and I used to live in Ascot.’

  ‘Your name isn’t Esther, is it?’ Tamara’s face had gone a deathly shade of white.

  Esther shook her head again and prodded herself hard in the chest. ‘My name was Bethany Williams but I couldn’t bear to be her after what happened. Bethany is who I was before that bastard took away my innocence.’

  ‘You mean, Jack …’ Tamara stood up quickly.

  ‘SIT DOWN!’ Esther roared. ‘You want to know about my life? Well, now you’re going to listen.’

  But Tamara’s face crumpled and she made a run for the door.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  Tamara couldn’t believe how unhinged Esther had become during the past few days. Had she always been this way? She supposed she could understand more if Esther was telling the truth about Jack, but she didn’t have to be a victim.

  Esther ran towards her, slicing the knife through the air. It cut through the skin on Tamara’s forearm and she screamed. She almost had her fingers on the door handle, when Esther placed a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Leave me alone!’ she said.

  Esther turned Tamara round and thrust the knife deep into her abdomen.

  Tamara groaned, her eyes wide. She didn’t have time to register what had happened before Esther pulled the knife out again. Tamara pressed her hands to the wound, blood seeping through her fingers.

  ‘You were always collateral!’ Esther shouted. ‘Always going to be in the way. But I liked you.’

  Tamara gasped; red-hot pain left where the knife had been removed. Unable to move, she steadied herself with a hand on the wall, knowing she would leave behind a bloody mess.

  ‘I thought you were my friend,’ she whispered.

  ‘Where is my money?’

  Tamara looked at her.

  ‘Where is it?’ Esther repeated, this time through gritted teeth.

  ‘I don’t have it,’ she admitted.

  Esther punched her in the face. She followed it with another and another. Fist after fist rained down until Tamara fell to her knees, hoping to avoid anything further.

  ‘You betrayed me!’ Esther screamed. ‘I won’t stand for that.’

  With as much strength as she could muster, Tamara pushed herself back to standing and staggered through into the kitchen. She dropped to the floor. Her hand went up to reach the worktop, and she tried to pull herself up but she cried out in pain. She slumped with her back to the unit, both hands cradling the wound.

  Esther put down the knife, out of her reach. Then she pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, crossing her legs.

  Tamara didn’t know which part of her hurt the most after the assault. She pressed a hand to her nose, not feeling any more blood, thankfully. Her lip was split though. Most of the punches had gone to her head, its ringing incessant in the quiet of the room. But it was the wound to her abdomen that she was concerned with. She screwed up her eyes. She had never experienced anything like it, spasms of pain as a bit more of her blood dripped out every second.

  ‘Help me.’ A shaky hand went out to Esther. ‘Please, call an ambulance.’

  ‘But you wanted to know what happened to me.’ Esther’s voice was quiet. ‘So, I have to tell you that first. Then you will understand. It won’t be pleasant to hear but, then again, you don’t care about anyone but yourself, do you?’

  ‘I thought I was a good friend to you.’

  ‘Good friends don’t try to record confessions for the police, do they?’

  Even if she had the strength Tamara wouldn’t have said what she was thinking – that good friends wouldn’t want to blame another for something they had done. Good friends wouldn’t ask each other to lie for them to cover their own back. Pain engulfed her again. As more blood came out, she coughed.

  But Esther wasn’t even looking at her. ‘I first met Jack in ninety-nine,’ she said. ‘He was at Cambridge when I was working for his father. I was fourteen; he was nineteen. We only met briefly a few times, whenever he would come home for a weekend or holiday. The first thing he would do was to check out the horses, take one out for a ride. I got to know him quite well, but I was always Bethany the stable girl. Not that I minded. I didn’t want a boyfriend or anything. But he didn’t take any notice of me anyway.

  ‘His father, however … I never liked him. None of the stable hands did. He was cruel and I heard rumours about him being rough with some of the girls. I wasn’t much to look at even when I was fifteen. My hair was short and I hadn’t really grown into my body. So, I don’t understand why he—’ Esther paused to look at her. ‘Then again, I wasn’t special to him so he could do what he wanted and get away with it.’

  Tamara couldn’t understand Esther because she was mumbling. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Reggie Maitland raped me,’ Esther said, eyes full of anger. ‘I was clearing some of the hay in the last stable. The horses were out in the field, so there was only me there. He came into the barn and closed the door behind him. I was oblivious to anyone there as I was making noise, when I felt a shove on the back.

  ‘I landed on my knees and he pushed my face down into the hay. I shouted out but he told me to shut up. Before I could think of anything he had turned me over and was straddling me.

  ‘He tried to keep hold of my hands but I struggled. I was so frightened because I could see that mad look in his eye.’ She pointed to her own eyes. ‘I screa
med again but he slapped me so hard that I was sure my ear was bleeding. It was then that he pulled at my clothes.’

  Tamara scrunched up in pain, but Esther continued.

  ‘I noticed a shadow in the doorway. There was someone watching us. I put up a hand to show them I knew they were there, that I needed their help, but the shadow disappeared. When I went outside afterwards, there was Jack. He even asked me how I was, said I looked a little peaky.’

  Tamara couldn’t speak as Esther went on.

  ‘I went straight home. I washed my clothes and cried while I took a bath to rid me of his touch, his smell, but I didn’t confide in anyone. I was so ashamed, and bruised inside and out. It was my mum who finally got it all out of me because she couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to go to the stables. I was a virgin before then.’ Esther nodded vehemently. ‘I’d never had a boyfriend. I was quiet and preferred to be with the horses. But from that moment, people treated me like I was a slut, like I had made it all up and I hadn’t, I swear. No one believed me but my parents and they couldn’t get Reggie charged. My dad threatened him, you know. Apparently, he laughed in his face. Called me a liar. Then Reggie threatened him, said he would ruin our family if he pursued the matter. My mum told me this when I last saw her.’

  Tamara tried to work through the fog of pain. Was Esther telling the truth this time or was this another lie? She wasn’t sure she could trust anything she said.

  ‘But the worse thing,’ Esther stabbed a finger in the air, ‘the worst thing ever, was that as that bastard raped me, Jack was standing in the doorway watching. He heard my screams, watched his father slap me into submission.’

  Tamara was struggling to take everything in. She couldn’t ask if Esther was sure because it would seem patronising. She couldn’t speak through the pain anyway. And it wouldn’t have helped because Esther seemed in some kind of trance as she recalled the memories.

  It couldn’t be true … Could it?

  Esther was struggling to get her breath too. As if the memories were crashing back into her, making it hard for her to cope. If she wasn’t so injured Tamara might have felt sorry for her. All she needed was a friend. But it wasn’t going to be her. If Esther didn’t do something soon, Tamara might die sitting there beside her.

  She tried to sit up, the pain in her abdomen making her feel sick in an instant. The blood was sticky on her blouse, and she wondered if the bleeding had stopped or if there was unseen damage being done. Was she bleeding internally, or perhaps only superficially?

  ‘It was their fault I ended up in prison,’ Esther said. ‘I became so mixed up, so angry. I found it hard to get close to anyone after the attack. One night, I met a man and we ended up back at his place and I – I tried to be all loving with him, I really did. But he wanted it rough and it reminded me of what had happened and I flipped.’ Esther pointed at Tamara’s stomach. ‘I got three years for GBH – served eighteen months.

  ‘I didn’t like prison. It’s horrible being the odd ball inside. Once those women smell fear, they latch on to you and they hunt you down. For the first month, I was a punch bag. And then I went to the gym, toughened myself up and fought back. No one messed with me then.’

  The room continued to spin but Esther ignored Tamara’s protests, so intent was she in telling her story. She prayed she would get out of this.

  As pain engulfed her once more, she passed out.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  I look to the chair. My dress is strewn across it, my heels beneath it, one fallen over on its side. Flashbacks of what I did came rushing at me. But I can’t erase what I have done.

  I removed my dress to wash away the blood.

  My phone rings. My bag is on the worktop. I rush to search it out. A familiar number makes my shoulders droop, my skin breaking out in goosebumps.

  It could have been so much better. But he ruined it. And now there will be no going back.

  ###

  Esther breathed in deeply. She had slipped on one of Tamara’s black jumpers over a pair of her dark trousers so at least if Tamara bled when she was about to move her, no one would see it. Methodically, Esther had moved her twice to clean up around her. The blood wouldn’t come out of the cracks in the kitchen tiles but it would have to do for now. Then she’d used the bathroom and washed her hands.

  When she went back into the kitchen and saw her friend slumped on the floor, she ran her hands through her hair, grabbing handfuls in her fists. She pulled with all her might.

  What had she done again! Not Tamara. She liked Tamara.

  But Tamara had let her down too. She had thought she was better than her. And she had lied about the money. Now the only choice she had was to go to search it out elsewhere.

  Although she didn’t really want Tamara to die, Esther didn’t know if she had any choice. But suddenly there was a groan. She turned sharply. Tamara’s head moved slightly.

  She’s alive!

  But that altered things completely. She would have to take her with her.

  Esther stooped down in front of Tamara. ‘Hey.’ She slapped her gently on each cheek. ‘Wake up, sleepy head.’

  When she didn’t move, she slapped her harder this time.

  Tamara’s head reared up and she groaned in pain. Her eyes flickered open.

  ‘Help me,’ she whispered, her chin hanging down then. ‘Pain.’

  ‘Come on.’ Esther pulled her up to her knees and then to her feet. She thought Tamara might pass out on her again but she didn’t. She placed an arm around her neck.

  ‘Can you manage to walk?’ she asked her.

  Tamara opened her eyes briefly before her head fell to the side. ‘Pain,’ she repeated.

  ‘I know. I’m sorry but what can I do? Now, one foot in front of the other and we’ll soon be out of here. Hold on to me.’

  It took them a few minutes to get to the front door and out into the hall. Esther wasn’t sure what she would say if she saw anyone but she would cross that bridge when she came to it. There would be cameras but once she was out of there, no one would be able to stop her.

  Out on the pavement, the road was quiet. Tamara groaned as she missed her footing on the step and they both stumbled to the ground.

  ‘Watch what you’re doing, will you?’ Esther snapped, as she pulled her to her feet again.

  They made the last few metres to the car and she pressed the key fob to open the driver’s door. Holding Tamara up, she leaned inside and pressed the button to open the boot. Then she walked with her to the back of the car.

  ‘Come on, let’s get you sorted,’ Esther told her. ‘It won’t be long now.’

  She pulled her fist back and punched Tamara in the stomach. As she doubled over, Esther pushed her into the boot.

  ‘Now, you be quiet,’ she said, laughing at her own joke. But Tamara was unconscious again. Esther hoped she didn’t suffocate in the boot. Could you even suffocate in a boot?

  A door opened further down the street, laughter boomed out. Esther pulled down the boot lid quietly. She stooped down out of the way, not wanting to bring attention to herself.

  A couple were saying goodnight to friends. She waited until their car had pulled away from the kerb and the neighbour’s door was closed before standing tall again.

  She lifted the boot lid to check on Tamara. She didn’t seem to have moved. Esther lowered the lid down and climbed into the driver’s seat. Within seconds, she was out of the street.

  Tamara’s car was sheer luxury to drive, and an automatic, so she didn’t have to do much. In less than fifteen minutes, she had squeezed it into a space near to the front door of her flat.

  As she walked across the road, she got out her own keys and let herself into the main hallway. Her phone went off again but she ignored it. She wasn’t going to answer it until she was ready.

  Within minutes, Esther was in and out of her flat with her suitcase, ignoring the card that had been dropped through the letterbox. She drove along Earl’s Court Road. It was nearin
g 10.00 p.m. The pavements were full of people, the roads busy with cars. She snarled. Look at everyone, out enjoying themselves with family and friends and who did she have? No one.

  What did she have to look forward to? Nothing.

  Did anyone care about her? No.

  Except for the woman you’ve left bleeding in the boot of her own car.

  Esther tried to push that thought aside. Tamara had been good to her over the past few weeks. She had made mistakes, of course, but she had made amends too.

  What kind of a friend was she? Esther didn’t know if Tamara was alive or dead.

  She thought back to when they had met. Tamara had always been pleasant to her. She had treated her well, she had taken a chance on her, and yes, perhaps she had been gullible by believing everything she had said but it had worked out fine.

  She remembered doing the pitch with her. It had been fun, even taking over at the right time to ensure they got the job. The dress that Tamara brought her from Mario’s. How understanding she was after she had thumped Oscar, and the mood she’d been in at the book launch.

  Tamara had ample times when she could have let her go and yet she hadn’t. Because Tamara was a nice person. And what had she done in return? She’d tried to shift the blame to her for Jack’s murder.

  But it was his fault! It was his stupid family that had got her into this predicament.

  Why couldn’t she have settled down with someone kind and sincere and forgot about her past? She had a right to be happy, not Jack. He deserved what he got. Someone had to pay for how her life had turned out. She would see to it. Revenge was going to be hers.

  She couldn’t bottle out now, not after getting this far. Tamara shouldn’t have tried to trick her. She shouldn’t have set up equipment to record her. She was only interested in getting off herself. The police had no evidence, but if they listened to what she’d told Tamara, she would be in for it. She wasn’t going back to prison until she had got justice.