Frailty: a haunting psychological page-turner

by Betsy Reavley

  ‘I am not a fool.’ She looks me in the eye and I feel awkward.

  ‘Look, I don’t know what’s going on. If I speak to Danny, you’ll be the first to know.’

  ‘I want my husband at home.’ She looks down at the crying child in her arms. ‘These months have taken their toll on us.’

  ‘My daughter is still missing,’ I remind her.

  ‘I know and I am sorry about that but it has nothing to do with my husband.’ She turns on her heels, her beautiful turquoise sari blowing in the chilly wind, and walks away with her head held high.

  Danny

  We’ve been sat in silence for some time. Simon is looking out of his window, brooding, smoking like a man possessed. His bottom lip is stuck out and he looks like the petulant teenager I remember travelling around Europe with.

  My right leg won’t stop moving. I can tell it’s annoying him but I can’t help it. I have too much pent up energy.

  ‘That’s probably long enough, don’t you think?’ I turn to Simon who remains scowling.

  ‘I dunno. Probably.’ He crosses his arms across his chest.

  ‘I’m going to go and check. You coming?’

  ‘Nah. I’ll stay here for now.’ Despite the heater, sitting in the van is not comfortable. The windows can’t decide whether to steam up or freeze.

  ‘Fine. Suit yourself.’ I get out of the van, slam the door and crunch across the ground towards the door, stopping to peer through the grubby window just to double-check that he is still tied to the chair and hasn’t wormed his way free.

  The sight before my eyes is pathetic. He sits hunched over. The bag is still over his head, tightly bandaged with the gaffer tape, the phone still clinging to his ear.

  Amit’s body language suggests he’s given up and I have a spring in my step as I make my way around the outside of the building to the door. Swinging it open, triumphantly, I let my arrival be known.

  ‘Enjoying the music?’ I call over the noise. He doesn’t bother to move and I wonder if he might be dead. Has it given him a heart attack, or a stroke?

  ‘Amit!’ I spit as I bend down over his slumped body. His head moves slightly, enough to tell me he is still alive. ‘Right,’ I try to pull the phone away but the gaffer tape is stronger than I give it credit for. His skull is yanked to one side as I tug at the Samsung. Amit grunts.

  Putting him in a headlock I manage to get enough traction to tug it away from the bag over his head. His neck makes a crunching sound and then bounces back into an upright position.

  I’ve only been in the room for a few seconds but already I’ve had enough of the music. The screaming, so-called singing, sounds like how I imagine hell.

  ‘You can’t keep me here like this.’ Amit’s voice is hoarse and it sounds as if he needs water.

  I tear the bag off of his head, throwing it to the floor. He squints, the dull winter light too much for his eyes. I wait for his sight to adjust. I then pick up a bottle of water and standing a few feet in front of him slowly open it. His eyes bulge with longing, as if he’s watching porn, while I take a long sip before letting out a satisfied breath.

  ‘Ahhh,’ I hold the bottle out admiring the glint of the water, ‘that’s better.’ Taking my time to screw the cap back on, I watch as the hope fades from his deep brown eyes.

  ‘This can all end. It’s up to you Amit. All you have to do is tell me what you did with her.’

  Amit lets his head drop down onto his chest again and shakes his head.

  ‘What is that? I can’t hear you!’ I shout.

  He remains still and silent, which only ignites my anger.

  ‘You stupid fucking prick.’ I shove my face into his, having a sudden urge to bite his nose off. ‘You will tell me or you will suffer.’

  ‘My conscience is clear.’ A large tear forms and streams down one cheek. Furious I stand up and slap him hard across the face using the back of my hand. A drop of blood forms on his bottom lip and travels down his chin.

  ‘Why do you do this? You are a good man. This is not right. What about your wife? Does she approve of your treatment of me?’

  ‘My wife is none of your fucking business. This is on your head. You are making me do this.’

  ‘I am not responsible for your actions.’

  ‘Yes you are. The moment you took my little girl from me, you put yourself in this position. You are a father.’ The idea disgusts me. ‘You must understand that I will do anything within my power to get Hope back.’

  ‘If I had her I would give her to you,’ Amit pleads.

  ‘Wrong answer,’ I sigh, getting hold of the bag and placing it back over his head.

  ‘Not the music, please,’ he blubbers.

  ‘No Amit, not the music.’ Leaning down I retrieve the water bottle from the floor and take the lid off. Then I walk around so that I am standing behind Amit, I put one arm around his throat and tip his head back before pouring the water over the fabric covering his mouth.

  He spits and chokes, wriggling in my grasp. I take the water away, wait a second, before doing it again. At that moment I hear a noise and spin round to see Simon watching horrified.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  I let go of Amit who continues to cough and wheeze, desperate for breath.

  ‘I’m trying to get some answers!’ I really don’t appreciate the way Simon is looking at me.

  ‘Come on Dan, this is going too far.’

  ‘I’ve told you, if you don’t like it you can leave.’

  ‘No, please, don’t leave me with this madman,’ Amit splutters.

  ‘You nearly killed him.’ Simon rushes over to him and removes the bag from his head. Amit’s eyes are red and swollen.

  ‘He’s fine.’ I take a sip of the water, finishing the bottle before crunching it up and hurling it over into a corner of the room.

  Simon stumbles backward putting distance between himself and Amit.

  ‘I can’t do this, man.’ He looks at me shaking his head. ‘I want to find Hope but not like this.’ Ever the drama queen.

  ‘What did you think we were going to do? Have a nice chat?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m going. Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone where you are but I can’t be a part of this.’ Before I’ve had a chance to respond, or defend myself, he’s left the building.

  Shaking with rage I pace backwards and forwards.

  ‘Just tell me where she fucking is!’ I scream at Amit.

  ‘I cannot.’ His eyes fill with tears again as I bring my fist hard into his nose, which cracks, sending a spray of blood across his face.

  Hope

  I speak to the voice hoping to get an answer but no one responds. Why are they just watching me? Why won’t they speak?

  I miss Zoe so much. I don’t understand why she’s gone or where she’s been taken. She was my friend. It was nice having a friend in this place. It’s scary when you’re on your own.

  My arms and legs hurt. Everything hurts at the moment, like I’m broken or something. I wonder if I get out of here if the doctor will be able to fix me.

  Then I start to think that maybe Zoe escaped. Maybe she found a way out. But then I remember the voice and I know that isn’t possible. There is no way out.

  Libby

  By two o’clock Clare and Paul have arrived. Both look similar to the way they did when they discovered Hope had been taken. We are all reliving that horror again.

  ‘Darling,’ Clare gives me a big hug, sniffing away the tears that had fallen during their drive from Tunbridge Wells. ‘Any news?’

  ‘No.’ I decide not to mention that Amit is missing. There is no point worrying them until something – anything – has been confirmed.

  Paul, whose brow is furrowed, bends down and scoops Gracie up into his arms.

  ‘Let me get you both some tea.’ I lead them into the living room and leave Paul and Gracie to play while Clare slips into the kitchen with me.

  ‘What is going on, Libby?’ She wants all the deta
ils and she knows I’m hiding something.

  ‘I don’t really understand, Clare. It’s all such a mess.’

  ‘What is? Where is he?’ She stands with her arms folded across her chest, fixing me with her bright eyes.

  ‘I think he’s done something really stupid.’ Sitting down on a chair I bury my face in my hands. ‘Amit is missing.’

  ‘Amit? The shopkeeper?’ She pulls up a chair next to me.

  ‘Yes. His wife came knocking on the door this morning. She thinks Danny has taken him. I think the police do too.’

  ‘Taken him? Why?’ The penny hasn’t dropped with her yet.

  ‘Because he’s convinced that Amit knows what happened to Hope.’

  ‘No. Danny would never harm anyone. This must be a mistake.’ Her head shakes from side to side as she does her best to convince herself that this isn’t happening.

  ‘He left me this note.’ I take it out of my pocket and slide it across the table to her. ‘It’s a lot to take in.’ Resting my hand on her arm I gently squeeze.

  Clare removes a pair of reading glasses from her handbag and carefully unfolds the paper. I watch as her eyes scan the words, finish reading it and then start again.

  ‘Dear God.’ She sits back in her chair and removes her glasses. ‘We have to find him.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Come on Libby, think. Where might he have gone?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve been racking my brains all morning trying to work it out.’

  ‘He’ll be arrested. He’ll go to prison for this. We have to find him before the police do.’

  I hadn’t got that far. Prison. Jesus. ‘You’re right. But I don’t know where to begin.’ My exasperation echoes around the room.

  ‘Have you tried his friends? Someone must know something.’

  ‘Simon!’ Eureka. ‘I’ll call Simon. Danny went to stay with him recently. He might have said something to Si.’

  ‘Good. I’m going to make some sandwiches. We all need to keep our strength up.’ She approaches the kettle and puts it on, something that I failed to do.

  I excuse myself, leaving Paul and Gracie mucking about in the living room and dash upstairs to make the call.

  ‘Hi.’ Simon answers.

  ‘Simon. Good. Do you know where Danny is?’

  A long silence.

  ‘Simon. Did you hear? I’m trying to find Dan. It’s really important. Have you spoken to him in the last two days?’

  Silence again.

  ‘Simon, I really need your help. If you know something, please...’

  ‘Libby, I…’ he lets out a long sigh.

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘It wasn’t meant to be like this.’

  ‘What wasn’t? You knew? You knew he was planning this and you didn’t try to stop him?’

  ‘He’s in bits, Lib. He thinks he’s let you all down. All he wants is to find Hope.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake, Simon, you think I don’t?!’

  ‘No, sorry, of course. He’s my best friend. He asked for my help and–’

  ‘Tell me where he is.’

  ‘This is all getting way out of control.’

  ‘What do you mean? Simon, please help me. I need to speak to Danny before he ends up getting arrested.’

  ‘I promised I wouldn’t tell.’ Simon sounds like a scolded child.

  ‘This isn’t a game.’

  ‘I know that. I shouldn’t have left them alone. Dan was so angry.’

  ‘You were with them? He’s in Scotland?’ I can’t hide my disgust. ‘You were involved in this?’

  ‘We were just meant to frighten him a bit.’

  ‘Oh Christ. What have you done?’

  ‘Nothing! Nothing!’ Simon starts to panic. ‘I didn’t lay a finger on him I swear.’

  My entire body is shaking with fear. After taking a few deep breaths I manage to speak calmly.

  ‘Simon, I am going to come to Edinburgh. When I get there you are going to take me to Dan.’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘That’s what’s happening.’ I interrupt. ‘If you don’t help me, I will call the police and tell them you are an accomplice in this.’

  ‘OK, OK.’ Simon was always weak.

  ‘Do not call Dan and let him know you’ve spoken to me. He clearly isn’t thinking straight and I don’t want to spook him.’

  ‘OK. I promise.’

  I don’t point out that Simon also made a promise to Danny.

  ‘Stay put and I’ll be there as soon as I can. If the police call you don’t mention anything. You’ve not seen him, OK?’

  ‘Sure, Lib.’

  ‘Good. You’re a bloody fool Simon. I could slap you, I’m so cross.’

  ‘Sorry. I just wanted to help my friend. He was so convinced it would work.’

  ‘He doesn’t know if he’s coming or going,’ I say, realising that I am the strongest person in our marriage. ‘How could you be so stupid?’

  Simon doesn’t answer. There is nothing he can say.

  ‘Just stay put. I’ll see you soon.’ I hang up the phone and throw it down onto the bed. It bounces off before tumbling to the floor. ‘Shit, shit, shit.’

  At that moment Clare comes bursting into the room.

  ‘What’s all the commotion? I heard you shouting?’

  ‘Danny has taken Amit to Scotland. He’s trying to get him to confess to taking Hope.’ My voice sounds foreign to my ears.

  ‘You are not serious.’ Clare stands with her mouth half open.

  ‘I’m going there now to try and persuade him to come home.’ Standing up I grab a jumper and a pair of knickers out of my chest of drawers and throw them into an overnight bag. ‘I’m sure it will be fine.’ I wonder who I am trying to convince.

  ‘We are coming with you.’ Clare turns to leave the room.

  ‘No. You have to stay here and look after Gracie. I’ll talk him down.’

  ‘I’m sorry Libby, but that isn’t good enough.’ Clare stops with her hands on her hips. ‘He is our son and I think in this instance he needs his father. He will listen to him.’

  ‘It will make things worse. You know how stubborn he is.’

  ‘We are coming with you and that’s final.’ She closes the door gently, leaving me standing there like a child.

  I go over to my bedside table and remove a bottle of pills from the drawer before popping two into my mouth and swallowing them dry. It has been a while since I needed the mild sedatives that Dr Vogler prescribed when Hope went missing, but I want them now.

  ‘He what?’ I hear Pauls booming voice travel up the stairs. Great, I think, just what we need, another irate man to contend with.

  Danny

  Sitting on the floor tucking into a chocolate bar I watch as Amit’s lips begin to turn blue. I filled a bucket with cold water and have plunged his naked feet into it. At three o’clock it is beginning to get dark already and despite the fire burning in the oil drum the room is beginning to freeze. The glass in the windows has frozen and the air appears in a while cloud everything I exhale.

  Despite his best efforts to knock it over he has failed. His legs are securely fastened to the chair and he cannot move his feet. His face is a bloody mess; his eyes are nearly swollen shut as a result of the broken nose. Blood has collected in a huge crimson scab on his top lip.

  ‘Please, I am so cold,’ his teeth chatter uncontrollably.

  ‘Where is she?’ I take another bite of my chocolate bar enjoying the sweetness.

  ‘I tell you, I don’t know.’

  ‘Fine,’ I get up dusting off my trousers, ‘then you can go back into the dark until you’re ready to talk.’

  ‘No. I cannot feel my feet. Please I am going to die.’

  ‘Don’t be so melodramatic.’ I’m finding it increasingly difficult to have any sympathy for him but as I get closer to him I see that he has pissed himself. I recoil with disgust. ‘Don’t you have any self-respect?’ the smell of urine fills my nostrils.
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br />   ‘You would have let me go to the toilet?’ He cannot hide the sarcasm in his question.

  ‘Don’t get cocky, dickhead.’ I decide not to bag him after all. With one foot I push the bucket of icy water away from him. He lets out a yelp as if the sudden change in temperature causes him further pain.

  ‘Let’s try another tactic shall we?’ I turn the bucket upside down, letting the water pool all over the floor before perching on it a few feet away from him. ‘I want you to look at this,’ I put my hand into my pocket, remove my battered leather wallet and take out a small picture of Hope I keep in one of the sleeves. Kissing the photo I then hold it out for him to see.

  ‘This is what I want. This beautiful little girl who you took from me in August.’ A lump forms in my throat. ‘You are going to tell me where she is right now.’

  Amit drops his head again and lets out a long low groan.

  ‘Is she alive?’ I can barely contain my emotion when the question comes bursting out of me. Amit shakes his head.

  ‘You’ve killed her, haven’t you?’ I leap to my feet sending the bucket rolling away and dropping the photograph and wrap my hands around his neck. His already swollen eyes bulge even more as I squeeze the life out of him.

  ‘No,’ he gargles, gasping from breath, ‘I have not hurt her.’

  Instantly I let go.

  ‘So where is she?’ Could I have finally broken him?

  ‘I tell you I don’t know. I do not hurt your daughter.’ His words come out with rasping breaths.

  Overcome by the disappointment I begin to sob. Sitting in the puddle of cold water on the floor I cry and I cry and I cry until there are no more tears left.

  When I finally look up I see him watching me with pity.

  ‘You don’t get to feel sorry for me,’ Getting up I wipe the snot away with my hand and move over to the fire to restock it before it dies out.

  ‘I cannot think what you are going through. If anything happened to my daughter my life would be over; but you must believe me that I did not harm your girl.’

  ‘Explain the shoe then.’ I have my back to him and stand over the oil drum warming my hands.