by Jacqui Rose
‘Oh God, of course babes. Sorry darling; got a lot of things on me mind.’
‘No answer?’
He was really trying her patience. What she wanted to say was, ‘Would I be standing out here in the corridor knocking if there was?’ Instead she smiled and politely said, ‘No.’
‘Do you want me to give him a message?’
‘No, it’s okay.’ Tasha looked at her watch again, checking she was still okay for time, and hoping the man would stop staring at her chest.
‘In a hurry?’
The geezer was getting on her nerves now. But it wasn’t really in her nature to be rude, unlike her sister, Linda, who would’ve already told him to do one.
‘Yes, sort of. I have to go and … er … meet a friend. So if Arnie doesn’t come back in fifteen minutes I’ll miss him, which will be a shame. My own fault. Should have called.’
The neighbour looked both ways before speaking quietly to Tasha.
‘I shouldn’t do this, but I’m sure he won’t mind. Whenever I see him, you’re the only thing he talks about. But as I say, I swear he said your name was Izzy.’
Tasha rolled her eyes; she’d no intention of starting the same discussion all over again. ‘It’s Tasha.’ As she said her name, she watched Arnold’s next-door neighbour take out a bundle of keys from his pocket.
‘I’ve got the master key; I can let you in if you like. Oh don’t worry, I haven’t stolen them. It’s just while the caretaker’s away for the week. His mother’s had a stroke or something, but I’m the resident committee chairman, so I do the emergency cover. We have a master key to spare anyone having their doors broken down if they lose their keys or leave the stove on. Those kinds of things.’ He grinned in an expectant manner.
‘No, it’s all right. I hardly think it’s an emergency. I don’t think Arnie would appreciate coming home to find me sitting there.’
‘Why not? If I walked in to find you waiting for me, I wouldn’t be complaining.’ The man licked his lips as he finished off the sentence. Tasha shuddered, and turned away.
‘He wouldn’t forgive me if I let you just walk out of here. He really has missed you.’
‘I don’t know, it doesn’t feel right.’
‘What are you going to do? Snoop about in his drawers?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Well then, there’s no real problem is there?’
Without waiting for a reply, the neighbour started to unlock Arnie’s door.
‘If he doesn’t come back in time, then you could always leave him a note. I’ll lock up again when you’ve gone. Give me a knock or I’ll be down in the car park trying to get the graffiti off the wall. Little bastards.’ The man left Tasha, waving as he went down the stairwell.
Tasha’s hand rested on the handle of Arnie’s front door. She hesitated, not feeling entirely comfortable with invading his private space like this. But then she was only going to wait and like she’d said, she certainly had no intention of snooping. Pushing open the door, she stepped into the flat.
25
‘Hey, you all right?’ The voice sounded distant. ‘Hey lady.’ There it was again. ‘Lady, should I call an ambulance?’
A hazy vision was in front of Laila as she began to open her eyes. It lifted, and a man came into focus. He was staring at her with concern as deep and ingrained as the dirt on his face. Laila looked round to see where she was. Then it all came back to her as she saw the empty container of pills lying next to her. It hadn’t worked. She couldn’t even do that properly. Her mouth was dry and her head was throbbing. She tried to stand up, but her legs gave way.
‘Here, hold on to my arm love. I don’t suppose you’ve got any spare change have you?’
Laila shook her head and looked at the tramp. Was that how she was going to end up? Was she seeing her future standing in front of her? An existence, rather than a life?
She looked around again. How long had she been unconscious for? ‘What time is it?’
The man grinned. ‘You need to stay off them pills, love. It’s Thursday morning.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m certain.’
She looked up at the church clock. It was already eleven-fifteen. Laila froze, realising what that meant. Thursday, eleven-fifteen. It meant Yvonne was leaving for London in forty-five minutes. She’d forgotten all about that until now. Laila watched the minute hand move round to the top, and then she started to run.
Laila’s clothes were still wet through from the night before. As she ran, she fought off the dizziness as she began to notice the stabbing pains in her stomach. She had to try and ignore it. She needed to get to the station before midday. Fifty yards ahead of her, she could see a bus pulling up, one which would take her to the train station.
‘I haven’t got any money but I need to get into town.’
The bus driver stared at Laila. His shirt was off-white and Laila could see the patterns of his string vest through it. ‘If you haven’t got any money, why am I going to let you get on my bus?’
‘I’m meeting my friend. I don’t want to miss her. Please.’
‘Go on; scram. Off.’
‘You don’t understand, it’s really important.’
‘Listen ducky. You lot come over here and then want everything for nothing. My granddad fought in the war so we could keep England English. Fat lot of good that did. Sometimes I think I’ve taken the wrong turn and instead of ending up on the high street I’ve ended up along the streets of New Delhi.’
‘That’s in India, my family are from Pakistan.’
‘Don’t get smart with me young lady; it’s all the same anyway. You might be able to get a free ride with the taxpayer’s money, but you’re not getting a free ride on my bus. Now do one.’
Laila watched the bus fade into the distance. She wasn’t sure if she was going to make it now. She began to run along the pavement, looking behind her occasionally to see if there was another bus coming.
She needed to be faster but Laila found she had to keep stopping to ease the pain. ‘Stop, please stop.’ Laila waved her arms in the air, flagging down the oncoming car. It went past her, then slowed down.
Laila ran to it, not wanting the car to drive off again. She opened the door. ‘Please help me. Can you get me to the station? I need to be there as soon as possible.’
The driver looked shocked to see the tear-stained young woman begging for a lift. ‘Yes, yes of course. Jump in.’
Laila looked at the car clock. It was twenty minutes to midday. She might just make it. The warmth of the car and the relief she wasn’t going to miss Yvonne made her relax slightly. ‘Thank you. Thank you for the lift.’
The driver smiled reassuringly. ‘Don’t mention it. My name’s Arnold by the way, but my friends call me Arnie.’
A short time later, Arnold pulled up outside his flat in the car. He looked down at his hands, seeing the scratches on them, wondering how they’d got there. 8, 10, 14. Fourteen scratches and he simply couldn’t remember how he’d got them. And where had the blood come from? He shook his head, aware it wasn’t the first time he’d no memory of what had happened in the hours before. Though he did remember a girl. Oh yes, he remembered her very well.
‘Arnie! Arnie!’ Scrubbing brush in hand, Arnold’s next-door neighbour waved as he saw Arnold. By the time he got up to the car, he was out of breath.
‘So glad I caught you. I got a little surprise for you. I hope you don’t mind, but you know that lady friend of yours? I let her into your flat. I just didn’t think you’d want Tasha having to wait outside.’
Arnold’s face darkened. ‘Tasha? I don’t know a Tasha.’
‘The lady who was there the time I came round. I let her in.’
Arnold turned the engine off, stepping out of his car. ‘I think you mean Izzy.’
‘Izzy, yes. That’s what I said. I said to her, your name’s Izzy but she insisted it was Tasha. How very strange.’
It wasn’t strange. That w
as Izzy, always wanting to play games, and now she’d come back to him. Arnold smiled.
‘I hope I haven’t done the wrong thing Arnold, letting her in without you being there? I was so sure you wouldn’t mind.’
Arnold started to whistle, then turned and headed towards the block of flats. ‘I don’t. I don’t mind at all.’
26
‘We’re early. I better wait till Tasha arrives.’ Bobby turned to look at Freddie, who was tucked down on the back seat of the car.
‘Is it clear?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Thank fuck for that. My back’s giving me right jip.’ Freddie sat up as he spoke, kneading his fingers into the base of his back. Even though the car had blacked-out windows, he’d felt exposed sitting up, so he’d spent the whole journey lying on the floor of the back seat.
Gazing out of the window, Freddie could see nothing but space. Wide open space. No bars. No steel door. No continual noise; only silence and freedom. A huge grin crossed Freddie’s face, showing off his immaculate white teeth.
‘Get fucking in. Look at that, Bobby. We did it; can you believe we actually fucking did it?’ Freddie yelped with joy, slapping his old-time acquaintance on his back.
‘Listen, you get off Bobby,’ he told him. ‘You’ve done me a favour actually getting here early. I need to get me head round all of this. One minute I’m looking at spending a lot of me natural inside, the next, I’m fucking here, on the moors.’
‘I dunno boss. Why don’t I just wait here with you for Tasha to arrive? Makes more sense.’
‘Appreciate it, but like I say, I need this bit of space to get me head round it all.’ Bobby heard the steel in Freddie’s voice and decided not to push it any more. He knew his boss and he knew when to open his mouth, and when not to.
Freddie talked whilst staring at the moor, sucking up the freedom as if he was a thirsty man in a bar.
‘I’m supposed to be meeting her on the other side of those woods, so instead I’ll just wait in them for her to come. Best thing for you to do is get back to the Midlands. Take the missus out or something. Be visible, and if there are any problems, contact Johno. He knows how to contact me.’
Freddie watched Bobby drive off. He could hear the engine well after the car had disappeared into the distance. Normally he’d hate having anything to do with the countryside; all this birds and nature stuff really wasn’t his scene. But standing with his feet on a cushion of heather and looking at a whole heap of nothing meant he was free. And that made it the most beautiful fucking sight he’d ever seen.
Heading towards the small thicket of trees, Freddie even allowed himself to whistle; something he hadn’t done since he’d lain in bed with Tasha, the day before he was nicked.
Thinking of his wife made him smile. There was a whole load of shit to get to the bottom of. And he hoped she hadn’t done anything stupid whilst he’d been away. He hoped it was nothing more than a woman having a moody. If it was, everything could go back to normal. But if it wasn’t, if she’d done something stupid, whether he loved her or not, he wouldn’t even let Tasha live to regret it.
Tasha sat down on the tiny sofa bed at the bottom of the room, getting no comfort from it; the springs almost certainly had gone. She could still smell the drains or whatever it was and with the window shut it made her feel quite nauseous. After a moment she moved to the other end but found it no better, wondering if it was just her unease at being in Arnie’s flat which made her uncomfortable.
From where she was sitting now, she could see the front door, and for the past couple of minutes Tasha had found herself staring at it intensely, as if looking hard at it would make Arnold walk in. She hadn’t been looking forward to telling him, but now she was here, she just wanted to get it over and done with.
She looked at the clock on the wall. It was really time to go. Well, she’d just have to leave him a note. Quickly explain she was sorry, but wouldn’t be able to see him again. If that didn’t give him the message, then she didn’t know what would.
Looking in her bag, Tasha saw she had a pen but no paper. Damn. She walked towards the phone, hoping there’d be a pad next to it. Nothing. She glanced around and couldn’t see any. The worktops were free of anything apart from the tea towels, folded up in origami shapes, as they’d been last time.
Tasha stared at the locker. She didn’t want to start opening drawers, but she didn’t want to leave without at least writing a note. And she certainly didn’t want to give any message to the creep next door. Therefore there was only one thing to do. Open the drawer.
Bills. Menus. Leaflets, but no paper. She closed it, then opened the second drawer; praying it wouldn’t be at this point Arnie chose to walk in, to what could only be described as her rooting through his things, albeit innocently.
Moving some leaflets to one side, Tasha froze. Catching her breath. She stared at the photograph. It was her. She looked at another. And another. More photos than she could count. All taken without her knowing. All taken by someone who’d been watching her. All taken by Arnold.
She quickly studied the black and white photos. This one was taken when she was coming out of the hotel. This one when she was coming out of the hospital from visiting Ray-Ray. And this one. Oh my God. This one was taken when she was sleeping.
Hurriedly she put them back. Shit. Her finger had scratched on something sharp. It was bleeding. Tasha looked down and saw she’d cut it on a jagged edge knife lying on the bottom of the drawer.
She sucked it but her finger continued to bleed. She needed to wrap it, then get the hell out of there. Some toilet paper would do it for now. Rushing into the bathroom, Tasha froze.
She pressed her body against the tiles as the door shut behind her. Her feet wouldn’t move but her brain was screaming for her to run, all the while her eyes were fixed with horror at the bathtub. Her stomach turned over and vomit rose to the back of her throat. She swallowed it back down, pushing her hand across her mouth, not wanting to be sick. She had to get out.
Tasha turned her head slightly, trying to coax her body to turn with it, unable to take her eyes off what was left of the dismembered body. Edging backwards, Tasha felt the handle of the door behind her. As she made her way into the tiny hall, she heard a noise. A key in the lock. It was him.
Arnie was home.
‘Izzy? Izzy? I know you’re in here. Coming, ready or not.’ Arnold stood in the doorway of his flat and sniffed the air. She was here. He could smell her. The perfume Izzy had in her hotel room. Floral oriental fragrance hung in the air. Izzy had come back to him.
Tasha crouched in the bathroom in the corner. Her whole body was shaking as she desperately rummaged in her bag, covering it with the blood from her finger as she frantically searched for her mobile.
‘Emergency services – which service do you require?’
‘Police.’
‘I’m sorry caller I can’t hear you, can you speak up?’
‘Police.’
‘Can you put the phone to your mouth caller, I can’t …’
Tasha cut off the phone. It seemed the person on the other end of the phone was speaking louder than she was, filling the bathroom with a shrill voice. She didn’t dare speak any louder. Her mind was racing. She could hear Arnie in the flat calling somebody else, but he was bound to come in. She had to try to stay focused. Perhaps it was all a mistake. Perhaps there was an explanation and he didn’t know anything about it. Someone else could have placed the person in the bath and Arnie hadn’t even seen her … him … it, was even in there. Bullshit.
Tasha’s eyes filled with tears as she caught the horror of what was in the tub again. It was Arnold. There was no pretending. The man only a few feet away from her had done this. And once he found Tasha in there, she would be next.
Arnie smiled to himself. He loved it when she played games with him. Especially hide and seek. ‘Izzy, come out.’ He made a point of opening the cupboards and drawers, slamming them closed loudly so she could hear; le
tting her know he was going along with her game. But he knew she wasn’t in here. He knew exactly where she was. Arnie squeezed his mouth together and gulped to stop the chuckle coming out. He didn’t want her to think he was spoiling her game. That just wouldn’t be fair.
Arnie stood by the bathroom door. ‘I can’t find Izzy; perhaps I should look in the bathroom.’ He bent forward, stifling laughter, pressing his ear against the door to see if he could hear any sound from her. Nothing. She was obviously taking it very seriously. Straightening his face, he opened the door.
Tasha watched Arnie walk slowly in. She was holding her breath, desperately trying to stop crying out with fear. He hadn’t turned round to see where she was crouching yet, but he would. Any moment. And when he did, she knew he would see her. She knew she was almost dead.
‘Izzy? Izzy?’ Arnold’s voice bellowed in the bathroom. It echoed eerily. He felt so happy and the least he could do was let her have fun. Arnie walked to the sink and studied himself in the mirror which was hanging above it. He stood staring, wide-eyed for a few seconds and although he didn’t turn round, a huge grin spread across his face.
‘Oh, there you are.’ Arnold watched her in the mirror, crouched in the corner. Curled up, hugging her knees, to stop him finding her. She was so clever but he was more clever. He had found her.
As he stared at her in the mirror, Arnold was surprised to see she wasn’t smiling. He could see she had something on her face. It was blood. He turned round quickly, his face full of concern.
‘Oh my God Izzy, have you hurt yourself? Let me have a look at you.’ Arnie rushed to Tasha, sliding himself along the floor. She pulled away, terrified, unable to speak. She looked at him. He was so handsome, so tall, so softly spoken – yet he was the stuff of nightmares.
‘Let me see to your finger, Izzy.’
Tasha, still frozen, didn’t want to contradict him. Didn’t want to tell him it was her. Tasha. Not this person he and his next-door neighbour referred to as Izzy. She didn’t know what to do. If she screamed, she was sure it would make whatever horrors were going to happen worse. Much worse. Maybe if there was a way for her to manage to keep calm. Play along with him, then he wouldn’t hurt her, or at least not straightaway. If she could gain his trust. After all, they’d spent plenty of time together and he hadn’t hurt her then. But then he hadn’t ever called her Izzy, and she’d never seen that look in his eyes before.