by Beth Abbott
Ellen was his pride and joy, and she’d never thought their closeness strange. Dad was her best friend, and she’d never imagined meeting a man who would live up to him.
Even when their finances took a hit when the markets crashed, he’d never shown any sign of panic.
He’d simply explained that it wasn’t the time to be in business alone, closed the firm, paid off his Secretary, Margaret, and taken a job with one of the thousands of millionaires that now called London home.
They’d downsized their home, which had upset Ellen a little bit, but dad had said it was time for a fresh start for them both, and the house they’d moved into was very nice and modern, in a good area, so she didn’t complain. She’d been in her second year at Oxford then, so it seemed churlish to moan about it when she wasn’t even living at home for most of the year.
So, when her dad said that he’d needed to go to his boss’s house that night, she hadn’t blinked an eye. After all, she didn’t really know whether this was a regular occurrence or not, as she was hardly ever around.
When he’d let himself in, she hadn’t questioned him.
“He’s away this weekend.” Dad had explained, smiling at her.
He’d left her downstairs, while he’d gone in search of whatever it was he was supposed to pick up.
Ellen had wandered into what seemed to be a sitting room, when she heard the front door opening.
“Shit!” She muttered to herself. She should have stayed in the hallway, then it wouldn’t have looked like she was snooping.
She heard footsteps as several people passed the sitting room door, but thankfully, nobody entered. They seemed to be heading straight towards the kitchen, so Ellen hovered, just out of sight.
She wondered whether her father knew they had come in, but presumably he’d heard them as well, as she heard his footsteps coming down the stairs.
She waited for him to come to her, but just as his shadow appeared at the sitting room door, she heard one of the men call out to him.
“Well, if it isn’t the laundry man!” She heard the gruff voice call out.
“Cleaned up the boss man’s money for ‘im, ‘ave yer?”
Ellen puzzled at what that implied.
She heard her father chuckle, but it didn’t sound like his normal laugh. It sounded strangled.
She watched his hand snake around the doorframe, as he reached for the light switch and clicked it off, leaving her in almost darkness.
“Something like that.” Her father replied, moving away from her. “I was just collecting a few papers ready for the morning meeting. So, what are you guys doing here?”
Her father sounded nervous, and so unlike himself.
“Well, see it’s like this… Old Georgie isn’t a particularly trusting sort of bloke. And he got wind that someone was tipping off the law about some of his, shall we say, ‘extra-curricular activities’.”
The man paused, for obvious effect.
“You wouldn’t know anything about that would you Davey boy, huh?”
Ellen’s heart stopped beating in her chest. Oh, my God! Georgie was obviously the man her father worked for, and he was involved in something illegal!
And they suspected her father of going to the police? Shit, this was bad!
She took a step toward the door, not sure whether she should go out there or not. Maybe seeing her would cause the men to back off? Hell, it was more likely it would end up with them both getting killed!
Oh God! She didn’t know what to do!
She was still standing there deliberating when a hand suddenly snaked around her waist from behind, and another covered her mouth, preventing her from so much as squeaking.
“Be silent, and don’t try to move!” A man’s voice whispered urgently into her ear. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Oh God! Wasn’t that the sort of thing someone would say to calm you down, just before they slit your throat?
Ellen didn’t know which would be worse… struggling and getting killed, or being passive and getting killed. Still, as each alternative in her mind ended with her dead, it seemed a pretty moot point.
“I have to help your father, so you need to hide out of sight while I go out there.” The man whispered. “Can you do that for me?”
Good! He was going to help dad. That was good.
Ellen nodded her head to let the man know she was on board with the plan.
His hand loosened, and she felt the cool air hit her back as he moved away.
“Who are you?” She whispered, turning to look at the man in the dim light from the doorway.
“I’m one of the good guys.” He smirked.
“What, like you’re undercover or something?” She whispered, still confused.
“Yeah, something like that.” He squeezed her arm, and she supposed he was trying to comfort her. “Now go and hide until I tell you to come out.”
Ellen couldn’t see his face, couldn’t read his expression, but she had no choice but to believe what he was saying.
She nodded again, and scurried behind the big sofa. From her position, she could see the living room door reflected in the glass of the patio doors, but anyone coming in would be unlikely to spot her.
She watched his silhouette disappear through the door, and could hear the raised voices from the kitchen. They were arguing about something.
Then she heard the unmistakable sound of gunshots. Oh God! Someone was firing a gun, maybe two people, and neither of them would be her father, as he’d never have dreamed of carrying a weapon!
She cowered in her hiding place, frozen stiff and unable to move. She wanted to go and check on her father, but fear had left her paralyzed to the spot.
“Hide until I tell you to come out.” The man had told her. She had to wait until the undercover cop, or whatever he was, came for her.
Oh, God, what if he was dead too?
The door opened suddenly, and she heard a man stumble into the room. Just as her saviour came into view, she heard another sound from over by the door.
“You fucker!” She heard the second man roar, as she watched him in the reflection, charging through the door.
He flipped the light switch as he came, bright light flooding the room and almost blinding Ellen for a second.
More gunshots rang out and she watched her saviour fall to the floor in front of her. Just before he landed, his body twisted, and she saw him raise a gun and fire. But she heard two gunshots, milliseconds apart, and just as she recoiled from the sound, she heard the soft ‘huff’ come from her saviour, just as his body fell back and hit the carpet right in front of her.
His head was turned toward her and she could hear his rough breathing as he stared straight at her. Further away she registered the noise of a second body hitting the ground, but her eyes never left the man.
He was young. Well, older than her, but no more than late twenties. Handsome, she supposed, in a rugged sort of way.
But it was his eyes that shocked her speechless. The left one was blue, but the right eye was dual coloured. Half was the same blue, but it was split down the middle, and the other half was black. It was the strangest thing she’d ever seen.
She wanted to remark on it, but then the reality hit her. She was cowering behind a sofa, in the sitting room of a criminal, while this poor man who’d tried to protect her, lay gasping for breath, and her father was goodness knows where, maybe alive, maybe not.
Oh God! Her stomach rolled.
The house was silent, but she didn’t know who else was there, and she was too frightened to move. She looked at the still form of the man in front of her.
“What can I do?” She whispered to him, desperate for someone to tell her what to do next.
He smiled at her, or at least that was what she thought he was doing, but as his lips moved, she saw the blood seep from between them, and with one last sigh, he fell quiet.
She’d clasped her hand over her mouth, desperate not to cry out loud and attract att
ention to herself.
Ellen sat quietly and watched as the light seemed to drain from those fascinating eyes, and coldness spread through her body as she realised that the man staring at her so intently was actually dead. A quiet sob left her mouth.
After only a minute or two more, she managed to make herself move, her worry for her father dragging her back from the depths of despair.
She ran out into the hallway, stepping over the bodies in the sitting room. She was heading for the kitchen when she heard another noise.
“Emma?”
“Oh God!” She gasped, as she recognised her father’s voice.
“Dad?” She called out, following the direction from where she’d heard the voice.
“Baby?” She heard him rasp again.
As she rounded into the kitchen, she found the prone form of her father, blood seeping from his stomach and shoulder. Two other bodies lay further into the kitchen, neither of them moving, blood everywhere.
“Oh God, dad! What can I do? You’re bleeding everywhere.” Tears were streaming down her face as she fell to the floor next to her father.
“Police, baby. You have to call the police, and an ambulance.” He grimaced. “Don’t use your phone. Use the house phone but wipe it clean of prints afterwards.”
She nodded. She knew what he was trying to say.
“Then you need to get out before they get here. Run!” He winced again as he grasped her hand tightly. “You can’t go home! They’ll go there looking for you. In the boot of my car there’s a bag with some money, and a phone. Take it and get far away from here. Nobody can ever know you were here.”
Ellen, shook her head.
“No, I’m not leaving you!” She cried.
“You have to go, sweetheart. You won’t be safe here.” Her father sounded choked up. “It’s the only way to protect you. When it’s safe, I’ll get in touch with you by calling that mobile. There are so many people caught up in this it could take a while, but you have to stay safe, you hear me? Only turn it on between midnight and one am on the first of each month, until I get hold of you. Ok?”
His voice was filled with so much urgency that Ellen didn’t consider arguing.
“That other man?” She asked, still trying to put the pieces of the jigsaw together. “The one who was helping you? Who was he?”
“Casey? He’s a good guy.” Her father coughed and winced, and as he looked up at her again, she saw the understanding come into his eyes. She’d said ‘was’. Who ‘was’ he, not who ‘is’ he.
“He’s dead?” He murmured, but it was more of a statement than a question. “Casey was undercover, working with the police. He’d been working with the team for about four months, trying to get inside George’s crew. I’d just managed to get him in.”
Her father draped his hand over his eyes, as if trying to shut out the truth. “Oh God, it’s my fault he’s dead!”
“No, dad, no!” Ellen wrapped her arm around him, trying to comfort him as best she could.
It took no more than a minute before he shrugged her off.
“Police, Ellen. Call them now! And then you get out of here!”
She nodded, using the tea-towel to pick up the phone on the wall in the kitchen, alerting the police that she’d heard gunshots and there could be multiple casualties, before placing the handset on the counter.
“I love you, dad.” She smiled weakly at the man who had raised her.
“Love you so much, sweetheart! I’m so sorry for everything!” He smiled thinly. “Now grab my car keys and go!”
This time Ellen didn’t hesitate.
By the time she’d retrieved the bag from the car and started to make her way down the road, she could hear police sirens in the distance. She was almost running, and she kept up a quick pace right up until the moment police cars and ambulances turned into the road she was walking down, at which point she slowed to a stop. She turned and watched them pass, as any curious bystander might, and when they were out of sight, she turned and ran, trying to put as much distance between her and the house as she could.
She had no idea where to go or what she could do, but she knew one thing for sure…. life would never be the same again.
That was the night Emma Thomas-Lansing died, and Ellen Thomas was born!
Chapter 5 -
Ellen
“Are you Ok, honey?” Ellen jumped as Fran’s hand rubbed her upper arm. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
Ellen shook herself mentally, and straightened up, looking at Fran over her shoulder.
“I’m fine thanks.” She smiled. “I was just lost in thought for a minute.” She sincerely hoped that Fran wouldn’t be offering a penny for them!
“Well, Mr Tall, Dark and Moody wants another beer, and I just cleared his soup dish, so if you could sort out his drink and his main course, maybe he’d stop scowling at everyone.” Fran muttered, casting a quick glance over toward the back corner.
“Tall, Dark and Moody?” Ellen chuckled. “Yeah, that just about sums him up.”
She moved towards the bar, where Gary was already pouring a pint of bitter. He nodded towards the corner.
“Seems like you’ve got another charmer there.” He grinned. “You do seem to get them.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” Ellen scowled back at him. “Wanna trade places?” She asked, hopefully.
“Not for all the tea in China!” Gary glanced over. “The size of that asshole, if he didn’t like his dinner, he’d probably beat the crap out of me, and then step me into the dirt as he left the building, Arnie-style!”
Ellen winced at the thought, but silently agreed with Gary’s assessment. The guy looked big enough and nasty enough to take on anyone, and she doubted he would need much provocation to do so.
“Hmmph! Wish me luck!” Ellen picked up the beer and walked swiftly up to the table.
“Here’s your beer, Sir. I’ll just go and fetch your main course.”
Without waiting for a response, she hurried to the kitchen, returning a minute later with his steak and chips.
“Here you go.” She placed the plate in front of him, with a half-smile. Just as she turned to go, she felt his fingers surround her wrist.
“Wait.” He growled.
She waited for him to make some complaint about the food.
“Do you know where Hanson Road is?” He asked, completely wrong-footing her.
Did she? Well of course she did. She’d lived there when she first arrived in town.
“Well, yes.” She stammered. “I do know, but it’s not actually there anymore.”
He looked confused, not surprisingly.
“It used to face the river, down by the old bridge?” She explained, not sure if he’d know what she was talking about.
His blank face, told her he had no clue.
“Hanson Road was at the bottom of the hill, right next to the river, up until about three years ago. Just a small row of cottages, maybe seven or eight of them?” Ellen squinted, trying to remember exactly how many there had been. “Anyway, when we had all the flooding that winter, the bridge was partly washed away, and the land that the houses sat on was severely undercut, leaving them unstable and uninhabitable. When they repaired the bridge, it was decided that the houses weren’t able to be rescued, so they bulldozed the remains. What’s left is a kiddies’ playground now.”
He seemed to think about that for a few minutes.
“What happened to the people who lived there?” He asked, looking up at her.
“They all moved out, I guess.” Ellen knew exactly what had happened to each of the residents, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. He’d want to know how she knew so much.
It wasn’t a big town, but even so, if she admitted to knowing where all of the residents of one small road had moved to, she might as well admit that she had lived there herself, and that was the last thing she was going to do.
No. Mr Tall, Dark and Moody could go and find that information out from s
omeone else.
As she turned away, she heard a commotion at the stairs, and turned to see the engagement party had broken up, and the guests were starting to make their way out. She was swamped with finding hats and coats and retrieving lost gloves and the odd scarf.
Before she knew it, another hour had passed, and she hadn’t given another thought to her grumpy customer.
As she looked towards his table, she saw that it was deserted, and all of the evidence of his meal had been cleared away.
“He left about ten minutes ago.” Fran said from behind her. “Thank goodness!”
Ellen turned and smirked at her boss. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” Fran grinned at her. “Would you believe it, the snarky sod asked me if I knew of any other restaurants in town where they sold ‘good food’. Emphasis on the ‘good’! I was tempted to tell him he could sod off to McDonalds next time!”
“You didn’t though, did you?” Ellen gasped.
“Nah, I told him that he’d already been to the best restaurant in town, so anywhere else I recommended would only be a let-down to him.” Fran guffawed.
“No!” She gawked at Fran, giggling. “What did he say to that?”
“Nothing.” She smirked. “He just stood there opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, until a huge chuckle burst out, and he grinned at me like an idiot. He just said ‘Fair enough’, put on his coat and left.”
“Wow! Well I guess you really told him.” Ellen laughed.
“I guess I did!” Fran laughed as well. “And you know the best bit? He gave me a fifty quid note, for a twenty-five quid meal, and told me to keep the change. So that’s a nice chunk of money into the tip jar for you all tonight.”
To say Ellen was gobsmacked was the understatement of the year! A good tip here was a fiver, maybe a tenner from one of their better off patrons. Twenty-five pounds was very unusual, and not at all unwelcome.
“I hope you told him to come back anytime.” She grinned.
“Sure did.” Fran grinned. “And you can serve him when he comes back.” She waved at Ellen over her shoulder as she headed into the kitchen.