by West, Sam
She staggered back from the window, clutching her chest as if to still her pumping heart.
“Mummy, what’s the matter?”
“Stay on the fucking bed!” she screamed at her daughter.
Jessie froze in shock; her mum never spoke to her like that and tears instantly sprang into her eyes. Amber was about to say something soothing to soften the blow of her harsh words, when – despite the double-glazing – another scream reached her ears. This time there was no mistaking it for a seagull.
Sara, oh God, Sara…
Except the scream was too deep to be a woman’s.
Alfie?
If it was her husband, it sounded like he was in pain. She rushed back over to the window, but now the fog was a thick carpet, obscuring everything including the branches of the tree that were right next to Jessie’s bedroom window.
“Amber!” a voice shouted from far away, from the downstairs of the house.
“Marjorie,” Amber gasped, but so quietly that there was no way the sound would have escaped the bedroom.
She stumbled out into the hallway to be met by the sight of Marjorie lurching up the stairs. Her little black dress was torn at the neckline, exposing her small breasts in the black lacy bra. She was sobbing hard, her eyes red raw and her cheeks streaked with mascara. Her usually immaculate hair stuck out every which way and she looked crazed. Subconsciously, Amber took a step backwards – what if Marjorie had gone insane like Jeff and Colin?
“They’ve gone crazy,” she sobbed as she took the last step and collapsed onto her knees. “Alfie tried to kill me.”
Amber stared blankly at the hunched over woman. This had to all be some horrible mistake. A bad nightmare. This couldn’t be happening.
“Where’s my husband?” she said.
“He attacked me but I managed to get inside the kitchen and lock the French-doors. I hit him over the head with a pot-plant and managed to roll inside the house.”
“You hit Alfie?” she asked incredulously.
“Yes, because he was trying to kill me.”
It was too much for Amber to take in and an irrational wave of hatred for Marjorie washed over her.
Stop it, it’s not her fault, it’s the men, Oh God, Sara.
“Sara,” she managed to get out.
Marjorie raised her tear-streaked face to hers, her hands clasped together in front of her chest. It looked like she was praying.
Perhaps she is.
Marjorie opened her mouth as if to say something, but then the sound of shattering glass permeated the air around them.
“What the fuck is that?” Amber gasped, even though deep down, she knew.
Her husband had smashed in the glass of the French-doors.
And he was coming to kill them.
Marjorie scrambled to her feet and grabbed Amber by the shoulders. “Shit we’re trapped, why doesn’t your stupid bloody house have a back-door?”
Amber prised away her friend’s fingers and lunged for Jessie’s room, ignoring the stupid question.
“Come here. Now,” she barked at the frightened girl from the doorway.
“Mummee, I’m scared.”
Me too, sweetie, but we have to move now.”
We need to barricade ourselves in somewhere, she thought frantically.
She had to decide where, and quick, because she could hear her husband crashing around downstairs. Not just her husband, but Colin and Jeff, too.
The noises they were making made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. They whooped and cheered, reminding her of men at a football match. But this was wilder sounding, more animal.
“Come on,” she gasped, dragging Jessie by the arm to her own bedroom with Marjorie right behind them.
There was a heavy vanity chest in there, but it was still light enough for the women to drag over to the door. There was also a lock on the en-suite, bathroom door and the bedroom window was big enough to climb out of. An image of tying together the bed sheets and of escaping out the window sprang into her mind.
All this raced through her head in a matter of seconds as they ran into her marital bedroom and slammed the door shut behind them.
“Help me,” she barked at Marjorie, going straight for the vanity chest.
In one expansive sweeping motion, she swept away all her make-up and beauty products. They landed with a loud clatter on the floorboards, and beyond the bedroom door she could hear footsteps pounding up the stairs.
Shit, we’re not going to manage it in time.
Thankfully, Marjorie understood her intention immediately and together they half-carried, half-dragged the piece of furniture over to the door. The large, four-panelled mirror attached to the back of the white-washed dressing -table fitted nicely under the door-handle and as soon as they let go of the dresser, the door-handle swept downwards.
Marjorie let out a short, sharp shriek, her hands flying up to her mouth.
“Marjorie!” Amber snapped. “Keep it the fuck together. Chest of drawers.”
The chest of drawers was slightly heavier than the dressing-table, but not impossible to drag. Marjorie nodded, seeming to pull herself together.
Fuck, it’s heavy, she thought as she and Marjorie dragged the thing over to the door. Her muscles trembled with the effort and she gritted her teeth against the discomfort, determined to do it as quickly as possible.
The bedroom door began to rattle in its doorframe and for a second Amber froze in fear.
They’re going to bash the fucking thing in, she thought in horror. She renewed her efforts, staring grimly across the chest at Marjorie. Together, they managed it and both women flinched as the door continued to shake and rattle, the door handle sporadically jerking up and down. Thankfully, the door was top quality, thick oak and she knew there was no chance of them shouldering in the panelling…
Or at least she hoped so.
Suddenly, everything fell quiet. The door had stopped rattling and the men had fallen silent – she could no longer hear them laughing like hyenas and whooping like escaped mental patients. The only sound that now filled the room was that of Jessie sobbing.
That’s because they’ve gone to find something to break the door down with.
She pushed aside the terrifying thought and went to her daughter who was curled up on the bed by the headboard. Amber pulled her to her chest and rocked her gently.
“It’s going to be okay, sweetie. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Except it wasn’t fine. Nothing was ever going to be ‘fine’ again.
“Where have they gone?” Marjorie whispered.
Her face looked chalk-white, as if her tan had washed away with her tears. Amber cradled her daughter’s head and absently stroked her hair, her mind reeling in horror.
“No, Mummy, don’t leave me,” Jessie sobbed as Amber gently prised herself out of the little girl’s grip.
“It’s okay, Mummy and Marjorie just need a chat in the bathroom.”
“Can I come?”
“No, darling, it’s grown-up talk, just stay here and relax on the bed, we won’t be two seconds.”
Jessie stared up at her with big, soulful eyes, eyes that were so much like her father’s.
Except there’s nothing soulful in Archie’s eyes right now, seeing as he only seems to have rape and murder on his mind.
Amber shuddered. She didn’t want to confront her husband because she was afraid to see the expression in his eyes. Nothing that he could do to her physically could even begin to compare to the pain of him looking at her like that.
Yeah, like he did to me just now downstairs.
“I doubt we have much time,” she whispered urgently to Marjorie once they were in the bathroom with the door pulled to. “We need weapons and we need an escape route. I’ve got a horrible feeling that they’re in the toolshed round the back of the house looking for weapons. I think they’re going to cut their way through the door.”
Marjorie’s eyes widened and she swayed sli
ghtly on her feet. “Weapons? Do you keep a gun in here, or something?”
“No, of course not. I was thinking more along the lines of aerosol cans.”
Marjorie let out a harsh laugh. “We’re going to fight them with fucking hairspray?”
Amber sighed in exasperation. “If we don’t manage to climb out the window in time, then yeah, a squirt of an aerosol-can in the eyes will disable them enough for us to do some more serious damage.”
She was fully aware of how pathetic it sounded and a wave of despair engulfed her.
Damn you, Marjorie, you’re supposed to be the strong one, not me.
“They’re going to kill us, aren’t they? The look in Alfie’s eyes… I thought he was going to rape me, he ripped off my knickers, and shoved his face between my legs, but then it was like he changed his mind, or something, like he went into kill-mode…”
Hearing her talk about Alfie like that made her feel sick and the small bathroom swam in and out of focus.
No. Concentrate on what you have to do, not what Alfie has turned into. Oh God, what the fuck has happened to him?
Marjorie began to sob and Amber grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and shook her.
“Listen to me, Marjorie, we don’t have time for hysterics. We are going to go back into the bedroom and we are going to tie the bed-sheets together to make a rope that we can use to climb out the window and into the garden. But we have to wait until the men are at the bedroom-door because otherwise we are going to meet them on our climb down seeing as we have to pass the only entrances into the house.” She spoke fast without breathing and gasped in a lungful of air. Dropping her trembling hands from Marjorie’s shoulders, she opened the little white cupboard above the toilet and grabbed a pair of small nail-scissors and tucked them into the front pocket of her cut-offs. “For Jessie. Come on, let’s do this.”
Marjorie nodded, her hitching sobs seeming to have eased a little.
Back in the bedroom, Amber guided Jessie off the bed and gently sat her down in the wicker-chair in the corner of the room. She pressed the nail-scissors into her hand.
“In case anyone gets too close to you,” she said. “Put them in your pocket.”
Marjorie was already stripping the bed and tugging the duvet out of the duvet-cover. Amber joined her, and silently they got to work, tying the bed-linen together. When they had used up every last item of linen, Amber rushed over to the window.
This better be long enough.
“Grab some aerosol-cans,” Amber barked to Marjorie, gesturing to all the beauty-products that were scattered on the floor from where they had moved the vanity chest a few minutes ago. “One for each of us.”
For a second she dithered by the window, the end of the makeshift rope dangling from her fingers. The only logical thing to do was to drag over the king-sized bed and wedge the side of it against the wall with the window. She proceeded to push and pull the bed until it was in position and knotted the end of the rope around one sturdy, wooden bed-leg. Satisfied that the knot would hold, she crouched on the bed and peered out of the window, the length of the rope cradled in her arms.
Marjorie tapped her on the shoulder, and she flinched. She handed her a deodorant spray which Amber wedged down the back of her cut-offs, then she kneeled down next to her on the bed.
“Where are they? What are they doing?”
Amber stared at the swirling fog, ignoring her question. It showed no sign of thinning and she strained her eyes, searching for signs of the men.
The fog undulated in the air like smoke, parting for moments at a time to reveal more fully the patio below. In the moments of relative clarity, she saw Sara half-naked and sprawled out on the table. She tried not to look at her, because every time she did she felt her mind spinning out of control.
“Jessie, come over here,” she said softly, not taking her eyes off the window for a second. “But don’t look out the window.”
Jessie came to her and curled up against her on the opposite side to Marjorie, her face buried in her shoulder. For a short while all was quiet, Amber and Marjorie as watchful and silent as guards standing sentry.
CHAPTER FIVE
Come on, where are you?
Marjorie was beginning to fidget, making the bed creak and shift beneath them. Only a minute or two had passed but it felt like an eternity, crouching there on the bed and staring out of the window at the unnatural green fog.
“Where are they?” Marjorie whispered. “Maybe they’ve got bored and have gone away.”
“Maybe,” Amber replied, not believing it for a second. Gently, she nudged her daughter. “Have you got the scissors? And the aerosol can?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl. Don’t be afraid to use them, not on anybody. Do you promise?”
Especially not Daddy, she silently added.
“Yes.”
“Now, when I say so, you have to climb out of the window and down this rope, okay darling?”
“I can’t,” she said in a small voice.
“Sure you can. It’s just like gymnastics at school, and you’re good at gym. Your PE teacher told me you were one of the best in the class.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but she desperately needed for Jessie to believe it was.
“I’m scared, Mummy.”
Not taking her eyes off the window, Amber wrapped an arm around the girl’s trembling shoulders and pulled her close.
“It’s really important you do this, sweetie, I’ll be right behind you, I promise.”
If your daddy doesn’t kill me first…
“Is that them?” Marjorie gasped, her forefinger pressed against the plane of glass and pointing down at the patio.
Amber’s gaze snapped downwards. Momentarily, she had been staring heavenward to stem the flow of tears, but now her gaze fixed on the patio.
It could only be them – three figures in the swirling fog, walking in single file in the direction of the smashed-in, patio doors.
What the fuck is the one in front carrying?
Even though the fog obscured the finer details of the bulky item that the man in front had slung over his shoulder, she just knew.
It looks like the chainsaw… The fuckers are going to hack their way through the bedroom door.
She was surprisingly calm as she watched them cross the patio. Every muscle in her body was coiled tight – not so much in fear but in ‘fight or flight’ mode. She was on high-alert, her mind focussed.
They disappeared from view, through the smashed-in patio doors that were invisible from the bedroom window.
She sprang into action, shoving open the sideways-opening window and chucking out the rope. It unfurled at speed, the end of the rope swallowed up by the fog.
“Now, Jessie.”
“Mummy, I can’t.”
She clung to her like a limpet, and Amber fought down her rising panic. “Sweetie, you have to.”
“Why don’t one of us go down first? That way one of us can catch her and the other one can help her out the window.”
Is she just saying that so she gets to go out the window first? And does it really matter if she is?
“Mummy, don’t leave me,” Jessie wailed.
I guess that’s that settled then.
“Fine, just get on with it,” Amber said.
Marjorie sat on the windowsill and swung out her legs. Her high-heels had long been kicked off, and she very gingerly lowered herself out of the window, clinging onto the rope for dear life.
All three of them screamed when sudden noise exploded the other side of the bedroom door.
Jessie’s hands flew up to her ears. “Mummeee!”
“Hurry!” Amber screamed over the roar of what sounded very much like a chainsaw revving. Behind that wall of sound, she could hear whooping and laughter.
The circular, revving tip of the chainsaw’s blade broke through the thick panelling of the door and Amber hugged her daughter tight, her soggy face buried in her chest. She peered
out of the window – Marjorie was halfway down the wall, her descent surprisingly agile and graceful.
“You have to be a brave girl for Mummy,” Amber said over the noise, pulling the little girl away so she could look at her in the eyes. “You have to climb down the rope.”
As she spoke, she tugged on the rope; it was still taught, so Marjorie wasn’t at the bottom yet. Even so, she sat her protesting daughter on the window-ledge in preparation.
The hole in the door was widening at an alarming rate, then the metal blade disappeared from view. A pair of eyes appeared in the small hole.
Alfie’s eyes?
The rope was slack now, and she half-helped, half-pushed her poor daughter out of the window.
“You can do it, sweetie,” she said with what she hoped was an encouraging smile, although she had the feeling it was more of a rictus grin. “It’s just like climbing rope in gym class, except this is easier because you have a wall to rest against, too. Go on, go.”
Now her entire body was out of the window with just her scared little face hovering above the sill. At that moment, the noise of machinery started up again, louder this time, thanks to the widening hole.
Amber steeled herself to look at the door… and was powerless to stop the scream of terror. The small hole was now a big hole and the damn chainsaw was hacking right through the mirror of the vanity chest. A million shards of glass erupted in a glittering, volcanic spray and instinctively she covered her eyes even though the rainfall of glass was nowhere near her.
To her relief, Jessie had begun her ascent. She reached out a hand to lightly touch her face.
“Be quick, darling, you’re doing great, Marjorie will help you at the bottom and I’ll be right behind you.”
The chainsaw was making light work of the door and vanity-chest and when the hole was big enough, the revving chainsaw cut out. Two pairs of hands reached inside and pushed on the furniture. The chest of drawers and the remains of the vanity-chest scraped over the wooden floor and Amber closed her eyes in terror.
When she opened them again, they men were in.
Her husband and Colin were standing there in the newly revealed space. Alfie had the chainsaw slung casually over one shoulder with his legs apart, and sweet, ineffectual Colin was brandishing a large, claw-head hammer, the head of which he smacked rhythmically into the palm of his free hand.