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When I Know Your Name

Page 9

by Gemma M. Lawrence


  ‘What?’ she cried, looking up at him. ‘What about you? You can’t be here; they’ll arrest you.’

  ‘Is that not what you want?’ he asked.

  ‘No, that’s not what I want,’ she said. ‘Not at all. You must leave. And what about this place? What if they find something that connects you to here? I mean, there’s a dead body right downstairs. You’ve been here. You were fighting. What about forensic evidence? DNA? You’d be arrested for a murder you didn’t commit.’ Panic swamped her again.

  ‘Hey, take it easy,’ he soothed. ‘We’ve already thought of that. The man downstairs is a doctor. He knows what he’s doing, and he’s taking care of it. It’ll be hard for the police to get a match on any forensic evidence. The place is falling apart, it’s too contaminated. We’ve cleared the rooms of anything that could implicate us, just enough to show another person was here. And, more importantly, they’ll know it wasn’t you. You’re safe from blame. Not that they would in the circumstances, but you won’t be associated with his death.’

  He ran his hands up and down the length of her back as he spoke. She remained still against him as her mind began to work, making a silent vow to protect him from the police and prison, at all costs. She may never see him again, but she would make sure no one would ever know about him or what he did for her. And that would be her thanks to him, for saving her life.

  ‘But you must remember what I’m about to tell you. You will need to give this information to the police.’

  She listened carefully, repeating it back when asked. She wouldn’t let him down.

  When he was finished, he leant forward and skimmed his lips against her unbruised cheek. A small kiss, to tempt, and she was sure her heart would split in two with all the conflict she felt.

  She allowed herself this moment so she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tight. Imprinting him into her memory, to remember the warmth of his body against hers and how well it fit. She may never feel like this for anyone else again, but if she had the memory of it, maybe it would be enough.

  But when she felt his hands pulling her closer to him, she knew it would never be enough.

  ‘It’s okay, Elena,’ he whispered. ‘I feel it too.’

  She held him, cherished the moment. ‘It’s wrong, I know that. But I can’t let you go.’

  ‘And I don’t want you to. You know how I feel.’

  ‘So take me with you,’ she murmured as she laid her cheek against his chest. ‘Please.’

  He calmly tipped her face up to his. ‘You’d give up your whole world for me?’ he said, his eyes on hers, glinting in the light. ‘Leave everything behind?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, everything, if it meant I could be with you.’

  A look of satisfaction crept over his face and he leant down, touching her lips with his as she clutched hold of his arms.

  ‘This is not the end,’ he murmured. ‘But I can’t take you with me. Not yet.’

  She worked to calm the frustration within her. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because they will always be looking for you, and you’ll always be a captive, on the run, with me. You’ll be forever looking over your shoulder, wondering if your life still waits for you back home.’

  ‘I don’t care about that.’

  ‘No, maybe not right now, tomorrow or next week, but it’ll wear you down until you don’t know what you want or how you feel.’

  ‘So you want to test me?’

  ‘No, this isn’t about a test. It’s about clarity.’ He paused as he saw the confusion on her face and gently ran his thumb over her cheek. ‘You see I know what’s going to happen next. You may be clinging to me now. You may be thinking that you can’t let me go, but once you’re free and within your old life again, logic and outside influences will convince you to do the right thing. And you will try to do it, despite what you really want. I know this. But eventually, it’ll be too much, and when that happens, I’ll be waiting. That’s when I’ll know you’re sure of what you want.’

  ‘But there’s no way I’m going to forget about you and settle back into my old life. No way. And I’m frightened that’s all I’ll have now.’

  ‘Elena, calm down,’ he said. ‘I’m simply giving you a choice, that’s all. I want all of you, but I want you willingly. And you must be absolutely sure because once you invite me into your life, there will be no going back.’

  ‘But how will I know where you are?’ she cried, not ready to let him go.

  He smiled again, in control. ‘Leave that to me. I will find you, and you will know. You have to trust me.’

  ‘Do you promise? You won’t leave me out there, alone? You’ll come back for me.’

  ‘You have my word.’

  ‘Then I’ll wait,’ she said with a sigh. ‘And I’ll protect you.’

  ‘I know you will,’ he said as he trailed his fingers gently down her arms.

  Sirens sounded in the distance. Faint at first, but an unmistakable sound, and they were getting louder.

  She wrapped her arms tighter around his waist, feeling his firm torso beneath his clothing. He held her too, and then reached behind himself to pull her arms away. The gesture made new panic flourish inside her. ‘I can’t leave you.’

  ‘Yes, you can. You’ll be fine. The police will take care of you.’

  ‘I don’t want their help.’

  ‘You know it has to be this way. It’s minutes, only minutes now, and then you’ll be out of this room.’

  He took hold of her hand and kissed it, his eyes on her as he did. She didn’t want him to stop and held on, but he released his grip.

  He picked up the gun as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

  She listened as his footsteps faded and a car fired into action, taking him away from her.

  She was entirely alone.

  Oh God, oh God. What do I do?

  The sirens were loud, outside now, and her heart skipped a beat at the screech of brakes and doors slamming. Voices shouted her name. The thumps of multiple footfall on the stairs and the presence of many people within the building created too much noise. She didn’t like it and held her hands over her ears as her heart rate spiked.

  A policeman swung open the door and called to the others, his voice urgent and hurried. Dread and fatigue made her head swim. She couldn’t think. She was going to pass out – something she had fought for so long during her ordeal. Her legs gave way, but the policeman grabbed her, holding firm.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got you Miss Dumont. You’re safe now,’ he reassured, his voice becoming distant.

  Voices were everywhere, and chaos surrounded her, but she was found, rescued, safe. There was nothing more to do. The room closed in, and she didn’t fight it. She slumped and let the darkness take over. She had survived and was finally leaving this place, and not in a body bag as she had so feared.

  Chapter 11

  Elena woke in an ambulance. Tucked under blankets, she rocked with the sway and motion of speed. The policeman who found her sat close by, and a paramedic looked after her medical needs. And she had needs. She was a freed hostage, a little broken, but a survivor.

  Within the safety of the hospital’s Accident and Emergency Unit, she was housed in a cubicle, the curtains closed, and a police presence outside.

  She listened to the sounds of the department – voices of the sick and injured, beeping medical equipment, and phones endlessly ringing. But soon there was a commotion that engulfed all of those sounds. Anguished voices. Voices she recognised. Voices saying her name. Her mother and Charlotte. The curtain was pulled back, and they rushed in.

  ‘Elena, oh, Elena,’ her mother cried as she drew close, her face crumpled with emotion at the sight of her daughter. Her jewellery tinkled as she dropped her bag at the end of Elena’s bed, and it was a sound that was familiar, and of home. It caused a sensory overload, and the impact of it overwhelmed Elena. She began to cry.

  ‘Mum,’ she said, her voice breaking as she reached for her
mother. Any resentment towards her parents was quashed, for now. All she wanted, needed more than anything else, was to be held. To be comforted and soothed as only a mother can. For her to make it better.

  ‘We thought you were dead,’ her mother whispered as she held her close, gently stroking her hair. ‘I thought I would die with grief. That awful gunshot,’ she said as a sob caught in her throat. She pulled Elena closer still. ‘But everything changed, and you were alive again.’

  She pulled back enough to reach for Charlotte who waited at the side of the bed, huge tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘Come here,’ Elena said through her own, pulling her close.

  ‘We were so scared,’ Charlotte whispered, hoarse with emotion as she hugged her friend as best she could.

  ‘Hey, I’m fine. I’m here.’

  They composed themselves from their tearful hugs as the medical team, who had stepped back to allow them their reunion, now made their presence known. One of the doctors stepped forwards.

  ‘While I don’t want to break up this happy moment, we really do need to run some tests. See how Elena is doing. Maybe you could come back in a little while?’

  Her mother and Charlotte nodded and gathered their things and, after both giving Elena a gentle hug, they left her to the medical team.

  The ‘little while’ became a couple of hours. The nurses took blood and inserted an IV line into her arm to help rehydrate her. Her heart rate was monitored, and questions were asked and repeated by different doctors. She was given a physical examination and notes were made. She was sent for a CT scan, accompanied by the policeman, and returned to her waiting cubicle. The detective leading her case visited, welcoming her back and informed her that he would return when she’d had time to rest. She immediately forgot his name. Everyone who spoke to Elena did so in quiet calm tones, as if soothing a traumatised person. They were only being kind, and at first, she appreciated it, but in time it irritated her. She didn’t feel traumatised, but then, she realised she didn’t feel anything at all. So she complied, answering their questions, and waiting as they discussed her ‘case’ as if she was not present. She felt hemmed in, surrounded by the smell of disinfectant, and all she wanted to do was stand in the sun and replenish her body with fresh, clean air. But this was London, and that was not easily done.

  Another doctor came in and looked through her notes. ‘How are you feeling, Elena?’

  ‘I’m doing okay, I think. Exhausted, but okay, thanks.’

  ‘Well, despite all you’ve been through, you’re in surprisingly good shape,’ he said as he flicked through the pages. ‘The bruising, although nasty, will fade soon enough and there are no fractures to the bone beneath. You’re a little dehydrated, and your leg needs another dressing, but there’s no infection and no adverse effects to the drug you were given,’ he said as he made his way over to her.

  ‘Your parents have made arrangements for you to be moved to a private room,’ he said with a smile as a man in the adjacent cubicle vomited loudly. ‘Somewhere a little more peaceful, anyway.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, eagerly. She was desperate for quiet. Desperate for peace.

  As Elena was wheeled along the corridor, she noticed the same policeman positioned outside of her door. She smiled at him, even said hello, although there was no need for him. She wasn’t in any danger. It was her decision as to what she did next. But that fact did not fill her with strength, instead only an emptiness at the thought of being alone.

  Elena watched the nurse who had accompanied her from the Accident and Emergency Unit settle her into her room. Placing Elena’s notes in the folder at the foot of her bed, she filled a jug with water and left it on the bedside locker. She glanced at Elena, eyeing her, and it made Elena uncomfortable. They must deal with a range of scenarios in her department, daily, but it must be rare to have a kidnap survivor to treat. It made her a case study, and she didn’t like it. She only relaxed when the nurse informed her that the ward team would be taking over her care and wished her well before leaving.

  Elena lay back against her pillows, feeling weak and in a strange limbo – part of life again, and yet apart from it. Disconnected from the world around her.

  The door opened, disrupting her thoughts, and a nurse walked in. ‘Hello, Elena, how are you feeling?’ she asked as she approached, checked her drip, and took her pulse. She was an older lady – probably mid-fifties – and had a kind face. Perfect for this profession. She had an air of efficiency too that came from knowing her job well.

  ‘I’m getting there, thanks.’

  There was another knock on the door, and her mother came into the room, alone. ‘Hello, darling.’

  Elena sat up and ignored the desire to be alone. ‘Where’s Charlotte?’

  ‘We thought it best if it was just family now. She’ll come and visit another day.’

  ‘She’s my oldest friend, mother. She’s as good as family,’ Elena complained.

  ‘You know what I mean,’ her mother replied. ‘You need rest.’

  Elena glanced at her mother who stared at her bruise. Self-conscious now, she touched her face and remembered that awful night Cigarettes had given it to her. Cigarettes, who was now dead. Nausea pulsed through her as the mix of pain and memory jolted her body into action. Empty of anything to reject, her stomach contracted regardless, making her want to retch but she lay still and breathed through it. It was easy now to create a stillness deep within her until the moment had passed.

  The nurse noticed though. Even checking Elena’s notes at the base of her bed, she picked up the change in her patient. ‘Are you feeling unwell?’ she asked as she placed the folder back and walked the length of the bed to her.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Elena said as the nausea began to subside. ‘Maybe a little sickness and pain in my cheek.’

  Let’s not mention the irritating mother, the deep ache in my soul, and the threatening insanity. No, let’s not do that.

  The nurse checked the monitor again. ‘Well, that’s no surprise. Completely understandable, I’d say. A terrible ordeal,’ she said as she glanced at her mother and went back to the notes. ‘We can give you something for the pain. I’ll be right back.’

  Now that they were alone, her mother fussed over her, fluffing up pillows and straightening her covers, talking about insignificant things. But Elena wasn’t listening. It didn’t matter. Nothing did. Only him. She remembered his face; his intense eyes. How he had held her face in his hands when he spoke to her. She was empty, and not because of the lack of food. She didn’t want to forget him; the feel of him, his scent, and she ached for him. She wanted to keep him etched in a hidden corner of her mind. A secret place, just for her, because perhaps that was all it could be now.

  It was over, he was gone, and now that she was free, perhaps that was the right thing to do. Maybe logic was kicking in, just as he said it would.

  ***

  Elena held her head to try and contain the pounding there and willed the nurse to come back with her medication. Anxiety gnawed at her, and all she wanted was to be alone instead of listening to her mother wittering on. Dealing with the police loomed ahead like a long shadow and she had no energy for it. But she hadn’t changed her mind about what she’d tell them. Of that she was sure.

  Aware of her father’s absence like a glaring hole in the room, she realised that, actually, all of the men in her life were absent – no father, no brother, and no boyfriend. All too soon, a tiny slither of contempt crept into her consciousness. She waited for it to pass but it didn’t, so she decided to raise the issue they had skirted around so far. ‘Why isn’t Dad here? Why hasn’t he come?’

  Her mother tensed and moved to the chair by Elena’s bed. ‘He’s at home. We thought it best that just one of us would be here when you arrived. Your release was very sudden and, in the chaos, we decided that it would be me. We didn’t want to overwhelm you. Although of course Charlotte refused to be cut out, even though I tried to explain–’

  Elena gave a li
ttle laugh; her mother was treating her like a fool. Overload her with faces? It was laughable if it wasn’t so tragic. Well, now it was time for some honesty.

  ‘Look, let’s forget this fiction, shall we?’ Elena said as she fixed her eyes on her mother. ‘I know what happened. And I want to know why.’

  Her mother looked surprised and avoided Elena’s eye contact. ‘Why what, Elena?’

  Elena sighed. ‘Why Dad wouldn’t pay the ransom?’

  Her mother paused, struggling for the words to explain such a decision, and she took too long to answer. Undeterred, Elena leaned forwards and helped the conversation along.

  ‘Why my parents declined to pay a ransom for a daughter they supposedly loved,’ she said. ‘Putting her in terrible danger.’

  Still no reply.

  ‘Do you want to know the danger I’m talking about, mother? Would you like me to describe it?’ she asked, her head tilted to one side.

  Her mother shook her head, flustered, and looked down to her lap with slumped shoulders. It was something Elena had never seen in her before. She was always the glamorous, social butterfly, happy and self-assured on her husband’s arm. If he was happy, she was happy. But now she was alone.

  ‘Your father can’t face you right now,’ she said, the bravado breaking down. She focused on her hands, still unable to look her own daughter in the eye. ‘He’s so ashamed. We both are. I tried to tell him, persuade him otherwise, but you know what he’s like when he’s made a decision.’

  Elena nodded her head as her eyes filled with furious tears. She was well aware of how her father’s decisions ruled the family. And now he’d left his wife to mop up his mess, alone. He should be ashamed, but he should be here too, apologising, doing something to put it right. If he cared.

  ‘Ashamed? Let’s discuss what you have to be ashamed about.’

  ‘No, Elena… I …’

  But Elena steamed on as anger spilled into a white-hot rage, her only energy source. ‘Do you want to know about how a needle was plunged into my arm, drugging me, or how I was beaten when I tried to escape, terrified that I would die in that room? The lack of food or water? I became ill too; shall we talk about my infected leg.’

 

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