by Shaun Hutson
The little girl pulled at Hailey’s arm and pointed excitedly.
‘There’s Auntie Caroline,’ she said, ‘and Adam’s with her.’
Rob looked round and saw them both, but his attention was drawn to Walker, who was still gazing towards the stage.
‘What the fuck is he doing here?’ Rob rasped, leaning close to Hailey’s ear. ‘Did you invite him?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Hailey said, not looking round. ‘I gave Caroline two invitations. I didn’t instruct her on who she could or couldn’t bring with her.’
‘So, he’s screwing her now, is he?’ Rob hissed. ‘I wonder how she compares to you. I wonder if he’s been taking notes on you both.’
Hailey glared at him. ‘Not here, Rob, please,’ she said through clenched teeth.
Becky was still looking round excitedly. She waved in Walker’s direction but he didn’t see her.
‘Did you know she was bringing him?’ Rob persisted.
‘I just told you: I gave her two guest passes. That was it.’
‘So he’ll be at the party with her, too?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I’m sure you’ll want to speak to him. You might want to talk about old times.’
‘I didn’t ask Caroline to bring him. It was none of my business who she invited. She could have turned up with Lord Lucan for all I care. It’s nothing to do with me.’
‘Not any more.’
‘Rob, drop it, please.’
He looked at her, held her imploring gaze. Then he glanced at Becky, who was now aware of their mutterings and had turned to face them.
Rob forced a smile. ‘Are you OK, babe?’ he said, ruffling her hair.
Becky laughed.
‘Are you enjoying yourself?’ Hailey added.
The little girl nodded. She was looking out over the crowd, who had spontaneously begun chanting the name of Waterhole.
Another section began singing their latest hit, and Becky joined in.
Hailey looked across at Jenny Kenton, who had just lit up a cigarette and was puffing at it. She adjusted her dark glasses and glanced in Hailey’s direction.
‘Isn’t that the one who’s married to the singer?’ Rob asked.
‘Yes. Objectionable bitch,’ said Hailey.
‘She used to act, didn’t she?’
‘She still does,’ Hailey said acidly. ‘She’s giving a command performance now.’
There was a mechanical roar above them. It began as a low drone, then grew steadily louder.
Immediately several spotlights near the front of the stage burst into life, sending their powerful beams cutting through the night sky.
The crowd stopped singing and chanting, and began cheering loudly.
More lights flashed on around the stage: strobes that bathed all those watching in a cold, white glow.
Becky grabbed Hailey’s hand in excitement.
The helicopter swooped over the crowd like a massive, power-driven bird of prey.
It sped down, then hurtled upwards in a wide arc, trailing an illuminated message from its tail section.
The sign bore one word: WATERHOLE.
There were lights on the helicopter’s skids too: brilliant red lights that flickered and flashed and left crimson imprints on the retinas of those who watched. They looked like splashes of blood across the sky. And, all the time, the lights from the ground shone up into the blackness, sometimes glinting on the shiny hull of the swooping, circling helicopter.
The roaring of the crowd grew louder – so loud it drowned out even the noise of the chopper’s rotor blades and engine.
More lights came on around the stage, and across the top of it – in blinding white, one letter at a time – the name of the band lit up. It shone like a beacon in the night. Then the huge illuminated logo began to flash rhythmically. Pulsing vividly.
Some of the crowd began to clap in time to the moving lights, as if directed by their phosphorescent glow. Others pointed up at the swooping helicopter, or punched the air expectantly. The noise was deafening.
Becky was on her feet, also clapping. Enraptured by the awesome spectacle.
Hailey looked across at James Marsh, who smiled back at her.
Had she bothered to glance towards the rear of the stand, she would have seen Adam Walker staring fixedly at her.
105
THE EXPLOSIONS WERE deafening.
The crowd cheered each fresh eruption, and applauded the multicoloured fragments that sprayed the heavens as each new salvo of fireworks was ignited.
Hailey was standing at the bottom of the steps leading down from the VIP stand, watching as car after car arrived to ferry guests from the gig venue to the Pavilion Hotel for the ensuing party. Most had already left, though she knew for a fact that the band themselves wouldn’t be arriving there for another hour at least. Their partners had gone to join them backstage. So had James Marsh and countless members of the local and national press, as well as music journalists and other interested individuals.
The crowd was drifting away now.
The scene they left behind them was one of utter devastation. Empty bottles, scraps of paper, plastic cups, containers – even abandoned clothes and footwear. What had been one of the best outdoor concert venues in the country, just hours earlier, now resembled an enormous dustbin.
But that, mused Hailey, was one of the few things that wasn’t her concern tonight.
Everything she’d needed to handle she’d done immaculately, and now – with virtually all the VIPs safely in their cars and on their way to the hotel – she could start thinking about the next stage of the proceedings.
It had been a great gig; that was all that mattered to the paying customers. All that mattered to the VIPs now was how much free food and drink they could stuff down their throats when they got to the party itself.
She felt a hand tugging at her skirt. Hailey looked down to see Becky smiling up at her.
‘Did you enjoy that?’ Hailey asked, bending down to kiss her little girl.
‘It was great, Mum,’ Becky said.
Even Rob was grinning. ‘Maybe I was wrong,’ he said. ‘They’re not that bad.’
Becky put her hands on her hips. ‘Oh, Dad,’ she said, ‘they were awesome.’
‘Awesome, eh?’ Rob said and swept her up into his arms.
Hailey smiled as she saw him swing their daughter around, heard her giggles of delight.
‘You two go on to the hotel,’ Hailey said, touching her husband’s cheek. ‘I’ve got to make sure the last of this lot get into their cars safely. I won’t be long.’
Rob nodded. ‘What about the band?’ he asked.
‘Their record company is taking care of them. They’ll be there, though.’
‘So you’re not the only one working tonight?’ Rob mused.
Hailey smiled.
There was a car pulling up.
‘You two go in this one,’ Hailey told him. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
The driver stopped the Jag and climbed out to open the doors for Rob and Becky.
She kissed her daughter.
‘Don’t talk to any strange men,’ said Rob cryptically.
He slid in beside Becky. The doors were slammed shut and the Jag pulled away.
Cars continued to arrive, picked up passengers, then left.
Hailey looked at her watch. Then at the next car heading towards her.
She frowned. This was no Jag or Mercedes.
It looked familiar.
The Scorpio halted next to her, and she saw that it was indeed Adam Walker’s car.
Caroline Hacket was driving. Walker was sitting in the back.
What kind of joke was this?
He pushed open the front passenger door.
As Caroline looked across at her, Hailey saw that her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks tear-stained.
‘Get in,’ said Walker flatly.
‘What’s wrong?’ Hailey asked. ‘What are you doing?’
> It was then that she saw the gun. The pistol was pressed against the back of the driving seat where Caroline sat.
‘Get in, Hailey,’ Walker murmured. ‘Or I’ll blow her in half.’
106
THE EXPLOSION OF white light was almost blinding.
Dozens of flashes went off simultaneously as each car’s doors were opened.
Rob could see hordes of newsmen gathered around the entrance to the Pavilion Hotel. There were also several camera crews from local and national television, and the powerful lights used to illuminate the hotel forecourt added to the general brilliance.
Reporters fought to get close to each car as it pulled up, though only anxious to snatch a few words with the members of Waterhole – should they be the ones to emerge.
Becky watched them jostling for position.
‘What are those people doing, Dad?’ she wanted to know.
‘Their jobs.’ Rob grinned as the procession of cars approaching the hotel continued.
He saw Nicholas Barber clamber from one of those ahead, pausing a moment on the steps to wave theatrically at the half a dozen newsmen who bothered to snap him.
Barber loitered a moment longer, as if determined that all the assembled hacks should get a good look at him. He saw James Marsh walking towards the main entrance and, smiling broadly, stepped towards the factory’s owner to shake his hand.
A good photo opportunity?
More lights. More microphones shoved in his direction. Barber was keen to foster the new government’s belief in its own popularity. It preached constantly of its awareness of public tastes. Prided itself on being comprised of men and women who considered themselves no different from those who had voted them into power.
Rob looked on at this charade with distaste. Watching Barber pose with his arm around Marsh’s shoulder.
Hypocritical bastard!
Two stretch limos were approaching the hotel and the media, almost as one, swung to meet them.
The limos slowed to a crawl, then stopped to disgorge their passengers.
Waterhole and their various partners emerged into the glare of camera flashes and a volley of questions.
‘There they are, Dad,’ said Becky excitedly.
Rob nodded and watched as the band members made their way towards the main entrance.
‘That’s Craig and Simon,’ Becky informed him. ‘They’re brothers.’
Rob watched impassively.
Craig Levine was wearing a battered leather jacket, jeans and a baseball cap. Close behind him, Jenny Kenton adjusted her dark glasses, ran a hand through her hair, and stared unsmilingly at the assembled photographers.
As the other band members made their way towards the entrance, two of them adopted a goose-stepping march.
Becky giggled. Rob shook his head.
‘They’re great, aren’t they, Dad?’ Becky said.
‘If you say so, babe,’ Rob murmured, grinning at her.
He saw Nicholas Barber posing for more photos, this time with both Marsh and the band.
Then they all made their way inside, the photographers still shouting for more pictures.
Rob looked around.
Where the hell was Hailey? Surely she should be here by now?
‘Where’s Mum?’ Becky wanted to know, as if reading his mind.
‘She’ll be here soon.’
I hope.
He noticed that Walker hadn’t arrived yet either.
Rob swung himself out of the car and helped Becky down. Thoughts were tumbling through his mind, some of which he didn’t care for.
Were Hailey and Walker together now? Snatching a moment behind his back?
He tried to drive the thoughts away, but they remained.
‘Mum won’t be long,’ he said, taking Becky’s hand as they made their way towards the main hotel entrance.
As they were climbing the three steps that led into the foyer, one of the photographers called to them – obviously taking no chances. Among this sea of nobodies might be someone important, so best to get everything on film.
They turned round and he took Becky’s photo.
The little girl giggled and pressed her head against Rob’s thigh.
He grinned and ruffled her hair.
‘There you go, babe,’ he said, chuckling. ‘Now you’re famous.’
Behind them the cars continued to arrive.
107
THEY DROVE IN silence.
Hailey unwilling to speak. Caroline unable to.
In the back seat, Walker remained quiet: gaze fixed on the two women in front of him.
Every now and then, Hailey would glance into the wing-mirror on her side of the car, trying to catch a glimpse of his face, but it was shrouded in darkness.
She had no idea which of them the gun was pointing at.
Once or twice she had glanced across at Caroline and seen the terror on her face: her jaw clamped shut, a knot of muscles pulsing at the side.
Hailey had wanted to ask what was going on. But each time she had tried to speak, it seemed as if her mouth would not open.
All she could think about was the gun.
Gun?
No matter how many times she ran the word through her mind, it didn’t seem to register. She and Caroline were being held at gunpoint.
Impossible?
If only it was. This seemed all too real.
Hailey tried to swallow, but her throat felt as if it was filled with chalk. Fear had dried her mouth more effectively than blotting paper. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
Caroline never took her eyes off the road.
It became apparent to Hailey, after the first few moments, that they were heading towards Walker’s house.
Thoughts tumbled through her head with incredible speed.
Jump from the car?
They were moving at a steady forty. She would probably be killed in the fall, or hit by an oncoming car.
But her recurring thought was of Becky. She was convinced she was never going to see her daughter again.
Caroline swung the car into the street where Walker’s house stood.
Now, when the car stops, run like hell?
In her fevered mind’s-eye she could see him raising the pistol, shooting her in the back as she ran.
Again she tried to swallow. Still she couldn’t.
Caroline parked the car and waited for further instructions.
‘Get out,’ Walker said. ‘Walk to the front door, slowly.’
He was out first, the gun held low.
Caroline nearly stumbled as she made her way to the door. Her legs would barely support her.
Hailey walked behind her, not daring to glance round at him.
Run now. He won’t fire the gun in the street – will he?
Walker unlocked the front door and ushered them inside, closing it behind him. He left the lights off.
Hailey heard the key turn once more. They were locked in.
In the semi-darkness she saw the glistening barrel of the pistol.
‘Go through,’ Walker instructed them, nodding towards the study.
They obeyed. What else could they do?
There were two chairs set in the middle of the room.
Both had pieces of nylon rope hanging over the back.
‘Caroline, sit down,’ Walker said evenly. ‘Hailey, tie her up.’
For long seconds the women hesitated, looking helplessly at each other.
Hailey saw tears welling up in her friend’s eyes. She felt as if she herself might lose control any minute.
‘Do it,’ Walker repeated softly, his voice almost a whisper.
With shaking hands, Hailey began her task.
Rob looked at his watch.
How much longer?
He sipped at his mineral water and looked around the dining room of the hotel.
It was bedlam: the noise, the constant ebb and flow from table to table, the clutch of people standing around the bar, the waiters and waitr
esses moving about so efficiently amidst the throng.
He saw James Marsh talking to the group.
Saw Craig Levine pointing towards his groin and laughing. The crowd around him laughed, too.
Nicholas Barber was speaking to a couple of local councillors.
David Easton – the bass player with Waterhole – was juggling with peanuts, to the obvious delight of the roadies watching him.
Beside him, his girlfriend, a stunning raven-haired woman wearing a red dress that looked as if it had been sprayed on, was chatting to Jenny Kenton, who was sipping her spritzer and looking regally around her. Occasionally she adjusted her dark glasses.
‘Where’s Mum?’ said Becky.
‘She’ll be here soon, babe,’ Rob replied, putting his arm around his daughter’s shoulders.
I hope.
He continued to scan the heaving mass of people.
No sign of Walker or Caroline Hacket either.
Again Rob looked at his watch.
108
HAILEY TRIED TO twist her arms behind her back, to free them from the rope cutting into her flesh.
It was useless. Walker had tied her too tightly.
She could only sit helplessly opposite Caroline who was weeping silently, tears coursing down her cheeks.
‘Why are you doing this?’ Hailey finally asked. Each word seemed like an effort; her voice cracked as she spoke.
He flicked on the light in the study and walked to one end of it.
Towards the huge canvas covered by a sheet.
‘Adam, please,’ Hailey said imploringly, forced to fight back her own tears.
He paused for a second and looked first at Caroline, then at Hailey.
‘You really don’t understand, do you?’ he murmured.
Hailey shook her head and sniffed.
Walker crossed to her and wiped away the single tear that trickled down her cheek.
For precious seconds Hailey found herself gazing deep into his eyes. He stepped back slightly.
‘You don’t realize that all this is for you,’ he said, his eyes narrowing slightly.
‘All what?’ Hailey tried to control her breathing.
‘The first time we ever met, I helped you. I found your daughter. I saved her. I brought her back to you.’