The police officers stood up too and Dalton shook his hand. “Don’t get too excited just yet. I’ll fight a good case for you, but it’s not my decision at the end of the day.”
Andrew nodded. “Okay, but you’ll let me know?”
“Of course, but you should stay somewhere else in the meantime, until we figure things out. Even if we do get a man put on Frankie, it will still take a couple of days to arrange.”
“Well, you have my thanks just for doing anything at all. I was beginning to think that I’d never get help.”
Wardsley seemed a little irritated by the comment, but Andrew felt it was a fair criticism all the same. “We do our best Mr Goodman. We can only do as the law allows. We’ll let ourselves out.”
Andrew stood aside. He was too relieved to feel guilty for offending the officer. In his opinion, it wasn’t asking too much for a little help from the police – but again he reminded himself that it was likely not their individual fault. He reconsidered his actions and leaned out into the corridor to apologise to the officers, but they’d already started down the front path.
Oh well. I’ll say something next time.
Andrew turned back into the living room and found Pen and Bex standing there. Obviously they’d been eavesdropping from the kitchen. Pen put her arms around him and squeezed tight. “What a relief.”
Andrew hugged her right back and kissed the top of her forehead. “Yeah, maybe we can go back to normal now. I’ll call work and get a few days off. They won’t like it but tough-titties. We’ll go stay with your parents until the end of next week. Then we’ll come home and play things by ear.”
“A whole week with Nan and Granddad,” said Bex, pulling a face. “Seriously?”
Andrew frowned at her and stuck out his tongue playfully. “You’ll live. They don’t see enough of you anyway. We can sit around in our PJs all day watching horror movies if you want.”
“You don’t like horror movies. They scare you.”
Andrew nodded. “After this week, I think real life is scarier.”
“No one is lazing around in their PJs,” said Pen. “I don’t want my parents thinking we’re a bunch of slobs. We can go on some daytrips. Leicester Zoo is a nice afternoon out. They have a silverback gorilla and a new visitor’s centre.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Andrew. “Guess we should go pack.”
Pen laughed and walked toward the kitchen. “At least let me go call them first. They might not have us.”
“Here’s hoping,” said Bex.
Andrew tapped his daughter on the back of the head. “You’re not too old to put over my knee, young lady.”
Bex held up her hands in two fists. “You don’t got what it takes to beat me, old man. You nothing but a lousy bum.”
Andrew grinned. “You reckon?”
Bex nodded and giggled.
“We’ll see about that.” Andrew lunged for his daughter, making her shriek and run upstairs in a fit of giggles. A minute later, her dreadful pop music came on the stereo and thudded through the living room ceiling.
Looks like things are back to normal already.
The relief was still washing over Andrew. There were no guarantees that his encounters with Frankie were well and truly over, but at least now there would be consequences if he were to try anything else. At least for the next week and a half they would be away from the worry. Hopefully Andrew’s bosses would understand. The project he was working on at the moment could wait a little while longer, he hoped, but the way he felt right now he was more than prepared to tell them to shove it if he needed to.
Best I call them now, Andrew thought, heading for the phone in the kitchen. Pen intercepted him on her way out and put a hand up to stop him.
“I’m just going to call the firm,” he told her, wondering why she had blocked his path.
She shook her head. “The phone isn’t working.”
“Really? Let me have a look.”
The two of them went into the kitchen and Andrew headed over to the fridge. On the wall beside it was the cordless phone sat in its cradle. Andrew plucked the handset free and held it to his ear.
Nothing.
There was no dial tone at all. Andrew keyed in some buttons to see if they made any noise on the line. They didn’t.
Andrew placed the handset back down and tried to figure it out. First he checked that the phone line was connected into the cradle and found that it was. Next he decided to verify that the phone line was connected to the wall output. He followed the cream-coloured wire downwards towards the floor and then began tracing it along the skirting board. The wire disappeared behind the fridge, but Andrew found it coming out the other side. It was on the other side of the fridge that Andrew discovered the reason why the phone was no longer working.
“The line’s been cut.”
Pen looked at him blankly, then down at the skirting board. “What? How?”
Andrew stared at the frayed wire, and then peered around the kitchen. When he saw that the window was hanging wide open and there were muddy footprints on the sill, he could think of only one thing. “We need to get out of here. Frankie’s in the house.”
The colour left his wife’s cheeks. “What? You think he did this?”
“Look at the wire, Pen. It didn’t cut itself!”
Pen was chalk-white now, a ghostly pallor consuming her usually-flushed features. “Where’s your mobile?” she asked. “Call the officers, they only just left.”
Andrew nodded and rushed back into the living room. His phone was on the coffee table. He’d put it there when the officers had been questioning him. Now, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, Andrew could see that it was gone. In fact the entire coffee table was had been upended, lying upside down on the ruined carpet.
He must have gotten through into the hallway from the kitchen just as we entered.
Pen came up behind Andrew, a little too close, and made him flinch. He turned to her and put his hands on each one of her shoulders. “You, me, and Rebecca are getting in the car, right now.”
Pen gave no argument and followed him closely as he rushed across the living room. He dashed through into the hallway, looking left and right, ready to defend himself, and then turned towards the stairs. “Rebecca,” he shouted. “Get down here, now.”
Andrew waited for a reply, but there was none. Panic blasted through his veins as he considered the reasons why.
Is Frankie up there? Is he upstairs?
A knock at the door.
Andrew looked at his wife. She looked back at him like a rabbit staring into the headlights of a speeding truck. Then she spoke: “It could be the police. They only just left.”
Andrew considered the possibility and decided it was viable.
Another knock at the door.
Andrew looked back up the stairs. “Bex, are you okay up there?”
Still no answer. Her music was no longer playing.
If Frankie was upstairs, then it couldn’t be him at the door. Andrew made a decision. He raced into the porch and opened the front door.
It was not the police officers standing there.
Two Black youths pushed their way inside the porch. They were identical in appearance, the twins from Frankie’s gang. A voice came from behind Andrew and he spun back around. Frankie stood at the top of the stairs, gripping Bex around her throat from behind. She was shaking and sobbing.
“Call the cops on me?” said Frankie. “Big mistake.” He pushed Bex forward. Her bare feet found nothing but thin air and she fell, plummeted, hitting the steps and tumbling awkwardly to the bottom of the staircase. Andrew wasn’t sure but he thought he heard something snap. The sound made him feel feint. Before he had any chance to react, something struck the back of his head.
Andrew’s world went dark.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Davie followed Dom and Jordan into the house, with Michelle trailing behind them. Frankie was already inside, having gotten in through a window at the
back, and was standing over the unconscious bodies of both Andrew and his daughter. The older woman was screaming out hysterically for help.
“Sort that bitch out, will you?” said Frankie. Davie realised he was talking to him, but found himself unable to do anything other than stand there with his jaw agape. Frankie shoved Davie against the wall. “Sort the bitch out now, before she brings attention to us.”
“W-what you want me to do?”
Frankie shook his head impatiently. “What you think I want you to do, you mug? Take her into the living room and shut her goddamn mouth.”
Davie nodded and took the woman away, holding her gently by the arm. She didn’t struggle, but neither did she cease her screaming. They entered the living room and Davie eased the woman down onto the sofa. Then he sat down beside her. “You got to be quiet,” he told her in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “Frankie will kick off if you don’t shut up.”
The woman continued shouting for help, but slowly her words became a quieter, continuous, garbled slur. Gradually the volume of her voice lowered to an out-of-breath keening.
Davie patted her on the back. “That’s it. Just try to calm down. Would you like a cup of tea?”
Frankie entered the room. “You kidding me? Why don’t you bake a cake while you’re at it?”
Davie stood up and faced his brother. “I’m just trying to calm her down. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“Just keep an eye on her.” Frankie moved behind the armchair in the room and shoved it forward along the carpet. Then he went and drew the curtains shut and turned down the lights with a dimmer switch.
“There,” said Frankie. “The mood is set. Bring ‘em in, lads.”
Dom and Jordan entered the room, dragging Andrew and Bex’s limp body along the floor. Andrew had stirred slightly since Dom had struck him in the back of the head, but was still pretty much out of it, eyes swirling around in their sockets, unable to focus.
“Get him up onto the armchair,” said Frankie. “Come on, come on!”
Dom and Jordan hoisted Andrew up onto the armchair and propped up his head, which was sagging against his chest.
“Where’s the tape?” asked Frankie. His twitch was acting up, his voice quivered as his bottom lip did the same.
Dom and Jordan both shrugged in unison, making the fact that they were twins seem like a weird double-act. “Think Shell has it,” said Jordan.
Frankie shook his head and cursed beneath his breath. Then he shouted: “Michelle, get your skinny ass in here.” It was a couple of minutes before she appeared, but when she did, Davie saw that she did indeed have the thick roll of silver duct tape in her hand. Frankie snatched it from her. “What the hell were you doing?”
Michelle shrugged her bony shoulders. “Just having a look around. There’s some nice shit in the girl’s room. Look!” She held up her right hand, which now sported a shiny gem on the ring finger. “Bet it belonged to her Nan or something. Sad bitch keeps a diary too, had a quick read and it was hilarious. Says she’s still afraid of the dark.”
“Very nice,” said Frankie in a way that made it clear he couldn’t care less. He turned to Andrew and pointed. “Dom, get this fucker strapped up. I want him to be nice and comfortable when we get the party started. He’ll have the best seat in the house.”
Davie sat silently on the sofa, wondering what his brother meant. Whatever he thought would probably not be as bad as what Frankie actually had in mind. In a competition for sickest imagination, Davie’s big brother would win every time.
Dom finished taping up Andrew just as he started to stir from unconsciousness. A thin stream of drool fell from his mouth and pooled on the tape securing his midsection to the chair.
“Wakey, wakey, rise and shine,” said Frankie, laughing at himself afterwards. “I was wondering if Dom had ended you with the smack he gave you. Glad he didn’t though. This will be a whole lot more fun with you alive.”
Andrew managed to lift his head and look Frankie in the eyes. “W-what…are you going to do?”
Frankie leaned forward so that his eye line matched Andrew’s own. “Tell the truth, I haven’t decided yet. Don’t you worry, though, it’ll be a good crack.”
Andrew’s wife whimpered and Davie patted her on the back again to quiet her down. Fortunately, it worked, and Frankie never noticed her noise.
Andrew spoke again, seeming to regain more of his wits. “Why are you doing this to us?”
“Not us,” said Frankie. “I’m doing this to you. The ladies are just unfortunate victims, unlucky to be involved with you. Collateral damage, is that what they say?”
“So why…are you doing this to me?”
Frankie shrugged. “Just bad luck for you, I guess.”
Andrew shook his head and another sliver of drool escaped his mouth. “There must be a reason.”
Frankie swung his arm and struck Andrew in his ribs. He sucked in a breath and seemed unable to let it out again. Frankie grabbed a bunch of his hair and lifted his head back up to face him. “Maybe I just don‘t like your fucking face.”
“Leave him alone!” Andrew’s wife screamed before Davie had the chance to stop her.
“Or else what, bitch?” said Frankie, turning to her.
“My name is Penelope, not bitch, and you’re a pathetic bully. A sad, little boy.”
Frankie looked around the room, at his friends, and laughed hysterically. “Check this girl out. Ten seconds ago she was behaving quite nicely and being a good girl. Now she’s grown a big fat set of balls. You want to take me on, sweetheart?”
“Just be quiet,” Davie said to her.
“That’s it,” said Frankie. “Listen to my baby brother. He’ll keep you safe.”
Michelle sidled up to Frankie and draped herself on him. Davie could tell that she’d popped a pill recently. Her eyes were bloodshot and as wide as dinner plates, while her lips puckered as though she had a mouth full of ash. “What’s the plan then, sexy?” she said. “We going to party or what?”
Frankie kissed her hard on the mouth and then pushed her down onto the sofa beside Penelope. “Yeah, baby. It’s going to get real, but we have all night, so just settle in and get some gear on the go.”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” said Dom, hopping up and down. Jordan was in agreement and slapped his twin on the back.
“Before we do that though,” said Frankie. “Let’s get the women sorted. Last thing we need is them getting away.” He turned to Davie. “Get the old bird taped up, little bro.”
Davie stared at his brother to see if he was serious. “She won’t do anything, Frankie. I’ll watch her.”
Frankie grabbed the tape off Dom and threw it at Davie. “I’m getting real sick of your backchat, man. Just do what I’m telling you and tape the old bag up.”
Davie stared at his brother a while longer, but realised he was pushing Frankie’s patience. He turned away and pulled off a strip of tape. “I’m sorry,” he said to Penelope, and then began to tape her up. She didn’t resist him, but the whole time he wrapped the tape around her she had a look of utter hatred on her face and didn’t break eye-contact once. Davie felt wretched and, as soon as he was done, he moved away from her. He headed over to Frankie who was peeking out through a gap in the curtains.
“What do you want, Davie?”
“How’d you know it was me?”
“Cus it seems like every time I turn around lately you’re on my back.”
“I’m just looking out for you.”
Frankie let the curtain go and turned around. He smiled at Davie. “I know you are. You’re my brother and that means more than anything, but you keep riding me and we’re going to have a problem. You get me?”
Davie nodded. He tried to swallow but found himself unable.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” said Frankie. “I got my shit sorted.”
Davie looked at Andrew in the armchair and felt the urge to disagree. “He’ll go to the cop
s as soon as you let him go, you know? You’ll end up back inside.”
Frankie smiled knowingly. “You see, that’s where you underestimate me, little bro. Who said I’m going let them go?”
Frankie moved away from the window and Davie was left to think about whatever insanity his brother had planned. He looked around the living room, at Andrew and his family, Bex unconscious, and her mother taped up and frightened. Then he looked at Michelle, the twins, and his brother. He knew right then that he was different to them – the odd one out. Unlike them, he was not enjoying any of this. Not enjoying it at all.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Andrew looked down at his daughter and fought the urge to sob. He would not give these thugs the satisfaction of seeing him desperate. He knew now that he had indeed heard something snap as his precious only-child had been pushed viciously down the staircase. Her left wrist was purple from subdural bleeding that was almost certainly caused by a broken bone. Agony would consume her when she awoke and Andrew hoped with all his heart that she slept till this was over.
But when will that be, and what’s going to happen in the meantime?
Andrew watched Frankie kneel beside the coffee table (now turned right side up). He was emptying a small plastic bag onto the glass surface and a small pile of fine white powder was building up. Frankie’s girlfriend – Michelle – knelt beside him with a small makeup mirror. She was using it to sweep the substance into several parallel lines. The twins stood nearby watching like baying dogs, almost drooling at the sight of the powder in front of them. Andrew was beginning to understand the hold that Frankie had over them all.
Then there was Davie, Frankie’s younger brother. Andrew looked at boy beside Pen and couldn’t work him out. He was as complicit in this brutality as the rest of them, but something about the expression on his face told Andrew that Davie was not enjoying the situation.
In fact it looks like the kid wants out of here as much as I do.
While everyone was busy doing other things, Andrew took the opportunity to test his bonds. He wriggled side to side, trying to loosen the adhesion of the duct tape that held him to the armchair. At first the tape started to give a little, but then the plastic bunched up and became unbreakable. There was no chance of getting free.
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