by Jacqui Rose
Tasha heard a whimper and realised it was coming from her. Calm. Keep calm. Think of Ray-Ray. Think of Linda. Think of a way to get out of here.
‘Does it hurt?’ The concern in Arnie’s voice sounded so genuine. Tasha blinked, unable to respond with the simplest of replies. ‘You’re crying, Izzy. Don’t cry. I’ll make it better, I promise.’ Holding Tasha’s gaze, Arnold put her finger in his mouth, sucking away the blood. She shivered in horror, then her whole body began to judder. ‘You’re cold. Let me sort this out for you then, I’ll get you warm. Okay?’
She watched him run the bath tap, putting his hand under it to test the temperature, his fingers centimetres away from the dismembered corpse. ‘Here you are.’ Arnold stretched out his hand for Tasha to take. Frantically she shook her head, opening her mouth to breath, gasping for air. ‘I can’t, I can’t.’
Arnie frowned in puzzlement. ‘Whatever is the matter? Don’t you want your finger to get better? You can’t leave it to bleed. Now stop being silly and come here.’ His arm stayed outstretched and very slowly, Tasha reached for it, remembering she needed to make her think she trusted him.
‘There you are. That wasn’t difficult was it?’ He pulled her towards him and held her hand firmly, pushing it under the water. The angle of Arnie’s hold made it impossible for Tasha to stand up and she found herself having to kneel. Her body was pushed up against the bathtub, her face inches away from the remains of the person in the bath. She turned her head, letting out a small cry. It was almost as if it was invisible to Arnie and he couldn’t see the bloody mass lying there.
Tasha couldn’t stand it any more. Her stomach erupted and this time there was no holding back. She vomited over the tiled floor, heaving loudly as her body twisted in shock.
Tasha felt Arnie’s hand on her back. On all fours she scrambled away from his touch, her hand sliding in the mucusy vomit as she escaped back into the corner. She couldn’t stay calm. She couldn’t do it. He was going to kill her anyway. She screamed at him, ‘Just stay away from me Arnie. People know I’m here. So just let me go.’
Arnold sat back down on the edge of the bathtub, his face quizzically tilted to one side. ‘But Izzy, you’ve only just got here. Why would I want you to leave when the fun hasn’t even begun?’
27
Sit and wait. That’s all Freddie could do. Until of course it’d got dark and then he’d had to find cover from the cold summer rain. And the sitting and waiting had turned into a whole fucking night.
As Freddie sat on the moss-covered stone, looking out into the distance, it was hard for him to think of anything besides he’d been fucked over. His wife, his Tasha, had well and truly fucked him over.
Brooding wasn’t doing anything to help. He had to try to be practical, to keep focused on getting himself out of the mess, but his mind kept drifting. He couldn’t actually believe what had happened. It’d all been going to plan. To actually break out was almost unheard of and he, Freddie Thompson, had been the one to do it.
Had he really believed it was possible? He wasn’t sure. But what he had believed in was his wife. Marty, the driver, even Eddie or Johno at a push. But Tash? Turning him over? He would’ve put his life on it she wouldn’t have. But then he had, hadn’t he? He had put his life on it.
All the warning signs had been there and he, like an absolute muppet, had ignored them. Why the hell had he trusted her? He should’ve known by the way she was behaving. Sneaking around, not answering his calls. Not coming to visit. And tarting herself up like one of the Toms from Soho.
He’d been made a mug of. Eddie had even warned him and he’d been right. So right it was a joke. He should never have trusted a woman. Freddie was not only learning the hard way, he was paying one heavy fucking price for it.
He stood up, stretching and feeling last night’s dampness still in his clothes. Where was he? In the middle of fucking nowhere. The road they’d driven along yesterday was the only road leading on and off the moor. Besides a car driven by some old geezer sucking up the scenery as if it was something to admire, Freddie hadn’t seen anyone else.
He decided this was a good thing and a bad thing. Good, because it meant the likelihood of anyone seeing him was very slim. Bad, because he was now stranded. To make matters worse, he still had no signal on his phone to contact Johno. He’d turned his phone off in the night to save his battery, hoping that when he turned it back on there’d be a message, but he’d been wrong.
Stressing, Freddie wiped his lips. They were dry and he didn’t have any saliva to wet them with. A combination of nerves and thirst. Looking back at his mobile, Freddie smiled ruefully to himself. There was half a bar. Not enough to call anyone, apart from, ironically, the emergency services.
He reckoned if he could get out of the immediate area, away from the highest peak, there was a chance he could get a signal. Carefully glancing round, Freddie began to jog across the moor.
‘For fuck’s sake.’ The pain from banging his toe on what seemed to be the fiftieth stone sent Freddie rolling down the side of the slope. The place seemed to be made up of nothing but rough potted land, overgrown with heather, bracken and dry grasses, with large hidden stones hidden every twenty yards or so.
Even though it was early morning the day was beginning to get hot. The sun was already beating down, drying out the moor from last night’s rain, but Freddie had still managed to step into a waterlogged peat bog. One leg of his trousers was now covered in stinking black mud and his white trainers squelched as he walked, pushing out stale water. Moor. Hill. Mountain. To him it was all the fucking same, and his anger at being in this situation began to supersede his anxiety and paranoia at being seen.
The tiny path leading across the moors seemed well walked and Freddie hoped he didn’t bump into any ramblers. Although he was out of his prison gear he was conspicuous in his blue jeans and white Abercrombie and Fitch top.
His feet were hurting him and he didn’t want to look at his watch to see how long he’d been walking. His wet trainers rubbed on the back of his heel, causing a blister. Shit. Freddie stopped, realising he could be walking round in circles. He was sure he’d just walked this way. The landscape looked the same as it did fifteen minutes ago. But then, everywhere looked identical. Fucking countryside. Getting out his phone again, Freddie saw instead of getting a full bar, the flashing black line had disappeared to nothing.
‘Christ.’ His voice sounded loud against the quiet. He didn’t want to start to panic; it wasn’t his style anyway. He didn’t do panic. He did a lot of things. Anger, revenge, even murder, but panic; no.
Wiping his face with the sleeve of his top, Freddie decided he didn’t even want to start to analyse it. All he knew was that when he’d got to safety, Ray-Ray’s attackers would have to wait. Lucky for them they were no longer at the top of his list.
Beginning to walk again, he touched his Cartier wedding ring. The person whose name was at the top of the list, flashing in neon writing, was so much closer to home. Without a doubt, Freddie would see to it that Tasha got what was coming to her.
The sound of pop music made Freddie crouch down. He turned his head, looking around, but couldn’t see anyone. It sounded like it was coming from the other side of the large boulders and slowly he started to move, crawling along the ground at first, then on to his knees before running to the boulder, pressing his body up against it.
Freddie listened without moving. He could now hear the sound of voices. A woman. A man; yes he could definitely hear a man.
Freddie put his hand behind his back, lifting up his top to place his hands on the gun.
‘Hello.’
The voice behind him made him jump. Instinct had Freddie pulling out his weapon but common sense stopped him. He turned round to face a woman who wore a large smile and the most hideous floral dress. She kept eye contact with him as she poured out a flask onto the ground, turning the purple heather brown. ‘We’re camping, well, we were. Funny how time seems to stand still when you�
��re out here. We’ve got to head back now, but I’m trying to steal a few more minutes. Glorious isn’t it?’
Freddie nodded his head. He could feel the cold of the gun against his skin. The woman continued to stare and it didn’t escape Freddie’s attention she was getting a full on clock of his face. It made him more than uneasy. The question now for Freddie was what to do. He didn’t have a problem with shutting up people forever, but even to him it seemed slightly extreme at this present moment. However, if he had to, he would; he wouldn’t even hesitate.
Answering the woman’s question, Freddie smiled, moving round slightly to see if he could get a glimpse of who she was with.
‘Yeah, beautiful. Love it up here darling. Me and the missus always come when we get a chance.’
‘You’re not from round here though are you? That’s a London accent you’ve got isn’t it?’
Freddie gritted his teeth. The woman had only just met him and she was already sticking her beak into his business. ‘Yeah, you’re right, but when I have the chance to come, I do.’
‘Wife’s not with you? On your own? Did you park round here?’ The woman fired questions, glancing in all directions.
‘Sometimes it’s nice to take a bit of time out, you know how it is.’ It was obvious by the woman’s face she didn’t know how it was. ‘My car broke down and now I seem to have got meself a bit lost.’ Freddie pointed to his trousers, hoping the muddied leg would add some credence to his story.
‘Oh that’s a shame. My husband knows a bit about cars. Perhaps we could drive round to where you’ve parked it and take a look for you?’
Freddie was sidestepped for a moment, but he pulled himself together quickly. ‘Oh no, ta babes. Really kind of you and all that but I’d rather cadge a lift if that’s okay. Think it’s the electrics so it’ll be pointless looking at it. Needs to go to a garage. So perhaps …’ Freddie trailed off purposefully. He didn’t want to push this woman and make her nervous, but there was no question about him not getting a lift. It was just a matter of how. Hopefully she’d do it the easy way. Offer him a lift and then he wouldn’t have to resort to anything he didn’t need to.
‘Where are you heading?’
‘Anywhere it’ll be easy for you to drop me off sweetheart.’
‘Let me just check with Andy, I can’t see there’d be any problem, but you hear all sorts.’ She trilled out a laugh irritatingly, making her way down to the man who was struggling with getting the picnic mat back in the hamper.
Freddie watched them talking. He saw her point at him, so he waved, holding a smile and trying not to feel paranoid. He walked down the heather-covered slope towards the couple, his feigned grin fixed on.
Standing, hovering by the open car door, Freddie could hear the radio turn from music into the local news. It was the usual. Politics. International war. Who’s shagging who in the world of entertainment, and then he heard what he was hoping not to hear. ‘Finally, police are still searching for the escaped prisoner, Freddie Thompson, who escaped early yesterday morning after the prison van he was being transported in was held up by five armed men. Thompson is known to be the head of one of Britain’s most powerful and dangerous criminal organisations. He’s described to be six foot tall, blonde streaked hair, blue eyes and well-built. He also has a very distinctive London accent. Police believe he may be heading for the north of England. They are warning the public not to approach him. They are also looking for another man, Eddie Davidson, who was sentenced last year to life imprisonment for killing his wife. He’s believed not to be travelling with Thompson.’
Freddie swivelled round slowly to face ‘Andy’ and the woman. Their faces were drained of colour, and the frightened glaze in their eyes told Freddie all he needed to know. They stared at one another. Nobody moved.
Freddie saw the woman’s eyes starting to dart about. Unable to stand the tension any longer, she blurted out, ‘Egg roll anyone?’ Hysteria cutting into her tone.
Her hand trembled as she held out an egg mayonnaise sandwich wrapped in cellophane. Freddie raised his eyebrows, shook his head in bemusement.
‘I ain’t here to mess about. So as they say, I can either do this the easy way or the hard way. But understand this, either way is fine by me.’
Andy spoke up and it amused Freddie to see him plumping out his chest. ‘Listen here you. Just tell me what you want from us.’
Freddie walked towards Andy, who straightaway looked like he knew he’d been foolish to try to show any bravado.
‘For a start Andy, I think you’d be wise to get rid of your attitude mate. It really won’t do you or your missus here any good to play daydream hero with me.’
Andy put his head down, humiliated.
‘Okay, so what I need to do is get out of this area, and you guys need to take me.’
‘What about your car?’
‘He hasn’t got a car Brenda; he was just saying that.’ Andy snapped at his wife who blushed, though still looked slightly puzzled.
‘But his electrics have gone.’
Ignoring her, Andy spoke to Freddie, this time making sure the deference was heard in his voice.
‘Why don’t you just take our car and leave us here?’
‘So you can call the police within a moment of me going? I ain’t born yesterday.’
‘We wouldn’t do that.’
‘Then you really are more stupid than you look Andy. Listen, I want to get to the viewpoint on the north side of the moor, but I’ve no idea where I am now, so you have to drive me.’
The woman turned to Andy. ‘We should drive round fell way.’
‘I’ve never been keen on that route, Brenda. It takes you too far round. I prefer the Ilkley Quarry way. Past the cow and calf rocks, I …
Freddie shouted, interrupting the couple who both jumped in fright. ‘Jesus Christ, I’ve been landed with John fucking Craven. This ain’t an episode of Countryfile; I don’t care how we do it. Just fucking take me there.’
‘How long will it take?’ Freddie listened to Johno on his mobile as he sat in the back seat, his gun out on his lap. If he was going to get caught and sent back to prison, then he was as sure as hell going to blaze a hole in anybody who tried to put him there. Though there was probably no need to play hard ball with these two. They didn’t seem the type of couple who’d start with the heroics. Not now anyway.
Freddie glanced at the side of Andy’s head. His temple showed an angry red mark. Freddie had given him a little slap about before they’d got in the car; ‘a taste of things to come’ as he’d put it. A warning to Andy not to do anything stupid as he drove.
Freddie finished off his call to Johno. The helicopter could be at the viewpoint in forty minutes. Thirty, at a push. Although Johno had asked what had happened, he hadn’t explained anything to him about Tasha, not with Bill and Ben sitting in the front. He had heard the relief in Johno’s voice when he’d spoken to him. The guy had been worried and oddly enough, it had made Freddie feel good. At least there was one person he could trust.
‘Can’t this tin box go any faster?’ Freddie turned and watched the smoke billowing out of the back of the Ford Fiesta as he shouted at Andy over the noise of the engine.
‘Don’t like to push her. She’s fifteen, but still manages these hills pretty well. She’s been all over with us.’
Freddie rubbed his head. He was talking about a car like it was his own child. Of all the people he could run into, it was these two. Then what did he expect? He was never going to meet anyone near normal on a moor. Rambling. Bird watching. Picnicking. Camping. All kinds of crazy shit. There was only one type of person on the moor. And he’d certainly been landed with them.
‘Just put your foot down on the pedal and move it.’ Freddie could see Andy’s worried expression as he shifted up into fifth, scraping the gears with a screeching sound. From the back seat he could see the speed dial as it changed from forty to sixty, then eighty. The road dipped and curved. The Fiesta took the tight bends as th
ey hurtled along. Freddie watched Brenda holding on tightly to her seat as Andy pressed his body into the steering wheel. The car began to push out more strange noises and more smoke, almost obscuring the view of the road.
‘You’ll kill us all Andy. Slow down.’
‘I’ll tell him when to slow down, keep going.’
‘Brenda’s right, the car won’t make it.’
Freddie pointed the gun at Andy. ‘You better make sure it makes it.’
Brenda’s piercing scream rang in Freddie’s ears. The minute Andy saw the gun at the side of his head he began to shout in panic, swerving all over the road dangerously.
‘Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.’
‘Calm down for fuck’s sake.’ The combination of the screams, the shouts and the noisy engine made it impossible for anyone to hear Freddie. He took a deep breath and followed it by a loud bellow. ‘Stop.’ The car screeched to a halt.
Hitting his head on the back of the seat, Freddie glared at Andy waving his gun in his face. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’
‘You said stop.’
‘Stop shouting, not stop the fucking car. Move it.’
‘The engine’s stalled.’
‘Oh Jesus, get out. Get the fuck out. I’ll drive.’ Freddie pushed open the passenger door, running round to the driver’s seat; almost dragging Andy out. Getting into the front seat, Freddie looked up and saw they were in front of a tiny three-way junction.
‘Which way Andy?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve got a map in the boot though.’
A few seconds of rummaging in the back had Andy jumping back in the car, frantically poring over the map. Sweat from his forehead dripped down, spotting it with dark smudges.