Scream for Sarah

by Veronica Heley

  ‘You are absolutely mad!’

  ‘Far from it. I told you, I plan well, and well in advance. Rose takes the odd secretarial job through an agency when she feels like it, and early this year she found herself working on a part-time basis for the Festival Committee. She told me about it, and I saw the possibilities at once. She knows the layout of their camp, roughly how much they’ve taken to date by way of gate money, how much Thomas will take off that, and which Security Firm is to collect the money. Pick-up time for the money is six o’clock this evening, but we will nip in at a quarter to the hour, and scoop the lot. We have the van outside, we have the uniforms ready and paperwork sufficiently like the real thing to pass muster. All we have to do is present ourselves, and they will give us the money. Simple. After that we hare back here, divvy up, get rid of the clothes, tip the van into the river, and disappear. No one comes down here, you said so yourself. It’s the perfect hideout.’

  So that was why Toby had put his car first in my garage, and then parked it out of sight in the garden. He had been careful to hide even that much evidence that he was in the neighbourhood. And that was why he’d used my Mini on his trips from the cottage, and why he’d taken Hob with him that morning; not to get shoes, but to keep him out of Mr. Brent’s way. Everything must appear as normal to the eyes of a casual visitor, and Hob’s advent was certainly not normal. Now I knew why Toby had done no more than flirt with me. I raised my eyes to Rose’s, and thought I saw a trace of pity in them. I could have screamed when I realised the extent of my folly.

  ‘Rose must go back in half an hour or so,’ said Toby, glancing at his watch. ‘She has her alibi laid on; staying locally with friends tonight, and off on a Continental holiday with them tomorrow. She’s been working for the Committee for months—no-one will suspect her, afterwards, but she must go back today, to collect her pay-cheque and make her farewells … and also to give us the final signal to go ahead.’ Toby grinned at Rose, and she smiled back, pleased with him and with herself. ‘Sid, you’d better get on with the van; put the insignia on the side and don’t forget to attend to the windows. You’d better work in the garage, just to be on the safe side, but you can leave the doors open. Park the uniforms on the table in here when you’re ready.’

  Sid yawned, revealing bad teeth, and Toby let him out into the yard.

  ‘Five hundred pounds,’ said Toby. ‘You could have a whale of a time on holiday with five hundred pounds, Sarah. All you’d have to do would be to drive the van to the site, park it in the right place, and wait while we collect the money. Then you drive it back here, help us burn the uniforms, and forget the whole thing.’

  ‘No,’ I said, as calmly as I could. ‘Another thing, you have no right to keep Hob here. He can’t tell anyone what’s happened, so why not let him go? I can’t understand why you kept him here in the first place …’

  ‘I couldn’t have the police butting in here just before I pulled a job, now could I?’

  ‘But you could have let him go. Why all that talk about making him earn money for a fresh start in life?’ Hob tightened his grip about my ankle. I hadn’t realised he was so close to me. His hand was warm.

  Toby laughed. I was beginning to dislike that short, abrupt laugh of his because it expressed not only excitement but something else as well … callousness, perhaps. Rose didn’t seem to like his laugh, either, for she backed me up.

  ‘Yes, Toby. Why hang on to the little man? He can’t do you any harm, can he?’

  ‘He knows too much.’

  ‘He knows nothing!’ I cried angrily, and then as I saw Toby’s grin expand into another laugh, I began at last to use my head. ‘My car … Hob’s bruises … The dent in my car, and the bruises down his leg. Toby, you borrowed my car and were away a long time …’

  ‘Telephoning Rose.’

  ‘… but you didn’t damage the car by bashing into the gatepost, you damaged it by bashing into Hob! That’s why he tried to run away when he first saw my car, and that’s why you didn’t want him to go. You were afraid that somehow or other he’d be able to tell the police that you ran him down the other night!’

  ‘Well … yes, all right. Have it your own way. I didn’t see him till I was on top of him. He was walking on the wrong side of the road, and I’d tossed him over the hedge before I realised what was …’

  ‘Driving too fast, you mean!’

  ‘… but I stopped, and he ran away.’

  ‘Poor Hob! You must have scared the living daylights out of him.’

  ‘He scared me when he materialised from the garage, I can tell you! I thought, Christ! Of all the bad luck, that he should pick on that building to doss down in. Why couldn’t he have gone somewhere else?’

  ‘I expect he saw the lights of our windows from the road,’ I explained. ‘If you knocked him down at that first bend in the road after you leave our lane, and he got into the field through the hedge there—or was tossed over it by your car—then he’d see clear across to this house. I was turning out the chest of drawers upstairs that evening while you were away, so I had the lights full on. He wasn’t to know that you had come from here. How could he? So he’d come up to the house, looking for shelter. I don’t how why he didn’t knock us up for help. He chose the garage because it was the only building he could get into, and in the morning he heard us talking, and fell out into your arms.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ said Toby, exercising charm. ‘But you’ll admit we’ve made up for knocking him over. We’ve fed him and watered him, and you’ve even given him some of your clothes. He’s only a tramp, after all.’

  A sudden pressure on my ankle made me look down. Hob was staring at Toby, his expression shrewd. He had tightened his grip on my ankle involuntarily, it seemed. I considered the nature of his injuries in the light of Toby’s confession, and still found myself at a loss.

  ‘His feet,’ I objected. ‘Why were they in such a mess, and his hands?’

  ‘He’d been in a fight with another tramp, or been robbed by other tramps. We agreed that,’ said Toby. ‘And that’s enough about Hob. He’s half-witted, anyone can see …’

  ‘Is he?’ asked Rose, She twisted her fingers in Hob’s curly mop and turned his face up to the light. He relaxed and swayed with the pressure of her fingers, his face going blank.

  ‘You see!’ said Toby.

  Rose wasn’t so sure. She released Hob, and he sank to the floor, his head drooping. Was he acting? I thought he was, and Rose was undecided. We looked at each other across Hob’s body, and although we didn’t speak, we reached agreement on certain points. First I acknowledged that she was Toby’s mistress and that I had no right to him, and second I acknowledged that I was worried about Hob, and wanted him set free. She seemed to think we had struck a bargain.

  ‘Let him go,’ she suggested. ‘One less to worry about.’

  ‘No,’ said Toby. ‘Not yet.’ He came to stand behind Rose’s chair, nuzzling her neck while his eyes searched my face for a reaction. I hope I didn’t react at all, except perhaps to show something of my disgust with myself for ever having been taken in by him.

  ‘I mustn’t be too late,’ said Rose, looking at her watch. ‘I’ve got about half an hour’s work to do at the site before I leave. Who’s going to drive me back to where I left my car?’

  ‘Sid will take you.’ Toby went out into the yard, calling Sid’s name.

  I saw my opportunity, and took it. Hob couldn’t run, with his feet in such a bad way. I glanced across at him, and caught his eye meaningfully. He understood. As I dived for the door, he caught Rose’s knees in a bear-like hug and brought her to the ground. Then I was out and running across the yard, past a startled Toby, and ponderous Sid … along the lane round the bend and past the stile to the Scarecrow field … ducking under strands of wild briar … stumbling along a rut … I ran as I had never run before. I had to reach the turn into the road before Toby caught up with me. I was a good sprinter, but not built for distance. I ran, calculating odds. If Toby
got his car out to follow me, he’d have to fetch it from the back of the cottage, and perhaps reverse it, which would lose him a couple of minutes.

  If I could only reach the corner of the road in time. If! I ran and caught my foot in a rut. The recent rain had softened the surface of some of the lane, but left the parts shadowed by trees as hard as ever. Pounding along, I ran with hair flopping on my forehead, and my breath hurting me … noises in my ears …

  A hand on my shoulder! I ducked and dodged and ran on, to be caught such a wallop round my knees that I went headlong across the track into the hedge.

  It hadn’t been noises in my ears, but Toby’s footsteps pounding along behind me that I’d heard.

  I screamed. And again. But the breath had been half knocked out of me in my fall, and I made a feeble noise.

  No one heard. How should they? The nearest house was a good mile away, and the nearest traffic a hundred yards round another bend. I could hear cars passing by, but they couldn’t hear me.

  I tried to kick Toby off my legs. He released me and I scrambled up, trying to dive through the hedge away from him. He clasped me round the shoulders with one arm, and with his free hand started to choke me. I clawed at his hand, and he increased the pressure. My face went hot … and then the sky turned black and I floated off into it.

  *

  I woke up to find myself lying on the floor in front of the fireplace at the cottage. My head and throat ached. I moved my tongue stiffly and tried to ease myself into a more comfortable position. Pain wrenched at my ankle and I stopped moving. Cautiously I turned my head.

  Legs. Legs in slim green slacks, and legs in nicely cut trousers; Rose and Toby. Hob’s legs, lying bound at the ankle, were at the far end of the room, by the staircase leading to the bedrooms. The string which bound Hob’s ankles was secured to the newel-post. There was no sign of Sid.

  ‘… a ruler?’ That was Rose.

  ‘Knotted rope might be better. Watch her—she’s as slippery as he!’

  I tried to sit up, but found my hands had been fastened behind me. A belt had been buckled round my wrists. I craned my head round and identified one of my own leather belts. I gasped something about they must help me, because I was lying in such an odd position that I couldn’t sit upright without assistance …

  ‘Or just another belt?’ said Rose, ignoring my splutterings. She tugged at a hook let into the stone from which the chimney had been constructed, testing its strength. I could have told her that my grandfather used to hang his overcoat there to dry, but I didn’t think she’d be interested. Toby bent over me and jerked my ankles higher into the air, tearing off my brogues and throwing them across the room. I fell flat on my back. He twisted and heaved on my legs so that I turned first on my side, and then, painfully, on my face. I tried to indicate disapproval. I tried to twist myself on to my back once more. My knees were being held up by Toby, higher than my shoulders. I managed to twist onto my side, despite his hard grip. His hands moved to my ankles, crossing them, and I thought how much crueller his hands looked than Hob’s.

  ‘Stop it!’ I managed to say, but they took no notice. He bound my ankles round with a length of rope and looped the end over the hook in the chimney-breast. I floundered around like a fish caught by its tail. I didn’t understand what they intended to do, but I guessed I wasn’t going to like it. I began to pant with fear.

  The more I tried to sit upright, the more I hurt myself, as every effort I made to sit straight sent my bare feet swinging against the rough stone of the chimney-breast.

  ‘Sit on her shoulders, if necessary,’ said Toby. Rose grounded me. I tried to heave her off. Toby helped her hold me down to the floor until she had got herself across my shoulders.

  ‘I’ll try the belt,’ said Toby, in a matter-of-fact way. ‘It would take too long to knot the rope, and a ruler might do too much damage. After all, we don’t want to cripple her. She’s got to drive the van.’

  A scream burst from my dry mouth as something heavy struck the bare soles of my feet.

  ‘There, now!’ said Rose soothingly ‘Only five or six … just to stop you running away.’

  ‘Two!’

  I gurgled something and tried to buck her off me.

  ‘Three—hold her still!’

  I jerked wildly and almost unseated Rose. ‘Four! Hold her still, I said!’

  I couldn’t bear it. I screamed again, a long wail.

  I heard Rose say something to Toby as his voice triumphantly counted to five. Surely this must stop soon!

  ‘Six!’ A babel of disagreement over my head. It seemed Rose’s weight had been removed, but I wasn’t seeing anything too clearly for tears. The room turned black at the edges and I guessed I might be going to faint. My twisted body was one scream of pain.

  Then my feet fell to the floor with a thump; the jar of their fall caused pain to overtake my sense, and I hovered over the edge of consciousness. Noisy voices disputed over my head. I wished them away so that I could try to cope with my hurts in peace. They zoomed into my head, and began to make sense. Rose was telling Toby that I’d had more than enough punishment, and he was saying that I was a tough little bitch who needed breaking in

  ‘But she’s got to drive—you said so yourself!’ I heard Rose’s heels slap across into the kitchen. She ran some water, and then slapped back again. Water … I opened my eyes, to discover that I had bitten my lip and that I was sweating. Rose lifted my head and put a cup of water to my lips. I could see her eyebrows crease in a frown as I drank. She let me go, and I collapsed back onto the floor, and closed my eyes. The voices receded.

  Blessed, wonderful silence.

  When I next opened my eyes, I found that the shadows had shifted on the floor around me. My eyes went to the clock on the wall, but it had stopped at five to seven, and no one had thought to wind it up again. I couldn’t consult my wrist-watch, but I thought I’d slept for about an hour.

  It was the clatter of crockery which had roused me. I managed to sit upright this time, and propped myself against a nearby chair. Hob had been moved. He was sitting in Grandpa’s big carving chair at the head of the table; somebody had used a lot of string to make him secure, not only round his wrists and ankles but also round his shoulders. He was awake, and looking down at me with a troubled look on his face. I tried to smile at him, to show that I was still in the land of the living. His expression relaxed a fraction, then his eyes shifted in a gesture of warning as Rose marched in. She had pulled a cashmere sweater about her shoulders, but otherwise looked the same as before. She was vexed. She moved about rapidly, knocking into chairs as she set the table for a meal. She didn’t lay for Hob, or for me. She didn’t speak to us, and I was in no mood to speak to her.

  Once she came and stood over me to inspect the soles of my feet. I didn’t like to think about them. They burned. I could see that both were swollen, and that one was bleeding. I thought she might offer to bathe them for me, but she didn’t. I thought that Hob would have done so, if he’d been free. His hands would be gentle, and the cold water so soothing.

  I found I was crying, and ordered myself to stop. I sniffed and wiped my cheeks on my shoulders. I knew perfectly well that now was the time when I needed a clear head, and yet I couldn’t think straight. My mind kept on returning to the memory of Hob’s torn feet, and wondering, absurdly, about them.

  Rose yelled through the open door into the yard. ‘Eggs and bacon, and for God’s sake, hurry up!’

  Toby and Sid came in, Sid grumbling that he hadn’t got cloth ears, and that they’d nearly finished, for Christ’s sake.

  They left the door open, and I sat there, longing to be out and through it, and knowing I couldn’t make it. Toby had done too good a job on my feet for me to run, or even walk, without pain.

  ‘You’ll have to wash up,’ said Rose. ‘I simply must be back by five at the latest, or I won’t be able to give you the signal to go ahead.’

  ‘Sid will run you to your car.’

  S
id was throwing his food around. A messy eater. I averted my eyes from the sight, but was sorry when he finished.

  Rose approached me, and tried to get me upright. ‘Upsidaisy!’ she said.

  ‘No,’ I muttered, and slid down to the floor again.

  ‘Help me, Toby!’ Between them they hauled me to my feet. I yelled as the soles of my feet touched the floor. Toby slapped me, left and right.

  He let go of me, and I slumped to the floor, dragging Rose down with me. Toby kicked me. I tried to hump myself into a ball, and would not stand.

  ‘You shouldn’t have hurt her so much,’ said Rose. ‘She’ll never do it, now.’

  ‘She will,’ said Toby. ‘Just fetch the clothes, Rose, and then you can get off. You know your way back here?’

  ‘Yes, of course. But I don’t see how …’

  ‘Don’t worry about how. You do your part, and I’ll do mine.’

  ‘Suppose she won’t help? Will you have to let Sid drive?’

  ‘No, they expect three men; two in the van, and one driving. We can’t risk not having a third. I know how to handle her.’

  I sat up at that. ‘Rose, don’t leave me here with him. You know he means to hurt me!’

  She looked upset. I think she had been shaken by the violence Toby had used on me, so perhaps she wasn’t as hard as she had seemed to be.

  Toby put his hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear. I watched her face. She looked anxious at first, and then uneasy. Finally she laughed incredulously, checked Toby’s face to make sure that he was serious … turned right round to look at Hob then back to me … and finally, nodded agreement.

  ‘Rose!’ I cried. But she was half-way to the door already.

  ‘It’s all right,’ said Toby, falsely reassuring. ‘I’m not going to hurt you any more, I promise.’

  I didn’t believe him. My eyes sought Hob’s, and found he was watching the door. Rose came back in, bearing a pile of dark blue uniforms, helmets and goggles. She dumped them on the table, picked up her handbag, and went out without looking at me. Toby went after her. Then I heard my Mini start up, and knew Sid was taking Rose back to wherever she’d left her own car. The yard and garden behind would shortly be looking like a used car lot. The hens squawked as the Mini departed, and I wondered who would feed them that night.