by Lauren North
Then a voice carries through the night and everything changes. ‘Anna?’
The man approaches and suddenly I’m bursting with a hundred emotions. ‘Rob?’
He rushes forward, throws his rucksack to the ground and takes me in his arms, holding me so close, so tight, and I squeeze him back, burying my face in the scent of him.
Rob is here.
The relief rushes through me and I realize in that second that I’ve been holding it together – for the kids, for myself, for the baby inside me – with sticky-tape patches and dried Blu-Tack, forever one step away from breaking down, and not just this week, this month, but for years.
‘Where have you been?’ The words leave my mouth in a rush as I pull away and take him in. Even under the glow of the streetlight he looks done in, exhausted, like he hasn’t slept for days.
‘The oil rig was attacked. We were under siege with no electricity or internet. The army came and I was smuggled off and taken to the British Embassy. Then they flew me home and there were a million transfers. It’s taken days. The first time I had a moment to call was Thursday, but the signal was terrible. I’m so sorry for worrying you. I’ve just got back. Then the bloody taxi broke down at the edge of the village and I’ve literally been running to get back to you.’
‘Why wasn’t the attack in the news?’ I step back, desperately wanting to believe Rob, but there’s a barrier. The mortgage arrears. The debt. Another lie.
‘The oil companies pay to keep it quiet when they can. Bad PR to have their rigs and their employees attacked.’
‘I know about the mortgage debt from the house.’ It’s not the time or the place to have this conversation, but I blurt it out anyway, unable to keep it in any more. There is so much to tell him.
‘What debt?’ He frowns and rubs his beard. I’ve never seen it in real life before. It’s thicker than it looks on the videos.
‘The second mortgage from the house. £150,000.’
‘Anna …’ He places his hands on my arms and I let him pull me closer. ‘I promise you, there is no second mortgage. I know nothing about this. It’s probably a scam letter.’
I search Rob’s eyes, but find only honesty and love. A giddy fluttering swoops through me so fast it makes me lightheaded. There’s no debt. Rob was in Nigeria on an oil rig all along. He hasn’t lied to me.
‘What’s going on, Anna? Why are you out here?’
Rob holds me tight and God, I’ve missed him. I’ve missed his warmth and his love, and even though it winds me up sometimes, I miss his don’t-worry words and the little eye-rolls that make me laugh and feel silly. I’ve missed it all.
I tell Rob what’s been happening. A condensed version, anyway. I tell him about the night Harrie was alone. Jack, Kat and Dean, and my suspicions that this is about Anthony pressuring Dean to sell Stockton’s. I tell him about the cage, the stable and Harrie’s visits to take Dean food, blaming herself. There’s so much more I want to say but there’s no time.
It sounds absurd and I brace myself for Rob’s laughter, but it doesn’t come.
‘Bloody hell, Anna. I can’t believe it. Where’s Harrie now?’ The fact that he believes me, this crazy story, that he hasn’t questioned it, makes me feel weak with relief.
‘At home with June. I told her to call the police. I was on my way to see if Dean is still alive.’
‘I’ll go,’ Rob says. ‘You get back to Harrie.’
I almost nod. It would be so easy to let Rob take over. I can go home and hug all three of my girls and tell them Daddy is back, but I don’t. I’m the one who has been here, I’m the one who looked Sue in the eyes and told her I’d try my best to find her husband. I have to see it through. ‘I’m coming with you.’
CHAPTER 58
Anna
The padlock on the gate is unlocked and Rob pushes it open and takes my hand as we walk across the field together. Away from the streetlights, the darkness surrounds us. The clouds have covered the sky and there is no moon to guide us now. I realize too late that I should’ve brought a torch, but I can see an orange glow of light coming from the stable and we hurry towards it, tripping on the uneven earth.
The field is bigger than I thought and surrounded by trees. It might be right in the middle of the village but it’s private too. There’s no way anyone on the road would hear shouts or screams from the stable. It’s too far back. The thought sends a shudder down my body.
Every rustle of my coat, every footfall sounds like it’s being broadcast through speakers as I draw nearer.
What if we’re walking into danger?
The murmur of voices carries through the night. It sounds like they’re arguing. How many people are involved? Jack and Kat, I know. Mike? Anthony?
A cry sounds from inside the stable. A yell of pain. Rob looks at me, his face full of concern.
‘Go home. Please, Anna,’ he pleads quietly. ‘We don’t know what we’re walking into.’ It’s the first time I’ve heard Rob echo my own what-ifs but I shake my head, the decision made, and we take the final steps into the stable together.
The stench smacks right into me – urine and faeces, sweat and blood. It coats the inside of my nose all the way to the back of my throat and makes me gag. My knees buckle for a moment as I fight the urge to retch. Rob coughs beside me, his reaction the same as mine.
There’s a chunky black torch sat upright in the middle of the floor casting a shadowy orange glow. In the corner is a metal crate like a kennel for a large dog. It’s exactly as Harrie described but worse somehow too. The door is open and it’s empty. Are we too late? Is Dean dead? Even in the dim light I can see the blood where it has soaked into the straw on the ground. There’s a bucket in one corner and a balled-up blanket that I recognize in the other.
I lift my eyes to the faces now staring at me.
Kat looks startled by our entrance. Jack rolls his eyes. Neither of them I’m surprised to see. Standing beside Jack is his wife, Sandra, and Mike Pritchett and Anthony Campbell are also here.
Jack steps aside and then I see him – Dean. He’s sitting on a wooden crate, head in his hands.
‘Dean?’ I cover my mouth, unable to comprehend what I’m seeing.
He looks up, his face sallow, body gaunt. He’s aged twenty years since I last saw him.
‘I’m fine.’ He coughs as he speaks – a deep wheezing croak – sounding anything but.
My eyes scan the group again. Sandra’s face is hard and unreadable. Mike is staring at the floor. Anthony is shaking his head. Kat looks horrified, her eyes puffy, and she’s wiping her nose on the sleeves of her cardigan.
‘What the hell is going on here?’ Rob says from beside me. ‘Anthony?’
Anthony steps forward. Always the leader. Even now. He holds up his hands, a peace offering. ‘Clearly things have got out of hand,’ he says.
I scoff. ‘You call locking a man up for ten days “out of hand”?’
‘Jack acted on his own.’ Mike is quick to jump in. ‘We didn’t know anything about this until tonight.’
‘Shut up,’ Jack growls. ‘You don’t want to get your hands dirty because you don’t have the balls, but you still want me to do the dirty work and protect us.’
‘How is locking a man up protecting anyone?’ I cry out. ‘What the hell is going on here?’
A stony silence falls over the group. The start of a scream builds in my throat.
‘They’re on the take,’ Dean says, looking from the group to me. ‘I’m in it up to my eyeballs too, so don’t go feeling sorry for me, Anna.’
‘Don’t say another word.’ Jack steps towards him, warning in his voice.
‘Give it a rest, Jack. You really think Anna’s going to walk away from this without knowing the truth? What else can you do to me?’
Jack raises his eyebrows. His answer silent, but there anyway. A lot.
‘The take from what? Your business?’ I ask.
‘In a way. The Parish Council have been paying Stockton’s for
bogus work for years, then Stockton’s pays me and Anthony and we give it out to these guys, and they funnel it through their little side businesses. We also take hefty chunks from the money raised from the summer fete, creating bogus projects with the school or the Neighbourhood Watch.’ Dean leans forward, his body convulsing in another coughing fit.
I try to wrap my head around what he’s telling me as I look from one person to another. And finally it starts to make sense.
My eyes fall on Kat and for the first time it occurs to me that I’ve never seen her lift a finger to sell her beauty products to anyone outside of her friendship group, and now the reason is obvious – it’s a front. A way to pretend to make money. No doubt it’s the same for Bev’s nail business, Tracy’s jewellery and Sandra’s candles. I’ve been so blind.
‘Steve doesn’t know,’ Kat whispers, tears falling down her face. ‘It was only supposed to be a little bit, you know? Because we all do so much for the village. But they got greedy,’ she says, her tone full of spite as she nods at Anthony. ‘I was just trying to do my bit to protect the village.’
‘Protect it?’ I scoff.
‘Don’t be so naive, Anna.’ Sandra snaps the words so fast I take an involuntary step back.
‘You’re stealing from the council funds, from money the people in this village raise, so you can have nice holidays and fancy cars. I’m not being naive.’
‘It’s hardly stealing,’ she replies. ‘We take a contribution for our efforts. This village would be unrecognizable if it wasn’t for us. If you only knew how many times we’ve had people trying to build on the land here, put up housing estates all over the place like they’ve done in the other villages, you’d be thanking us right now.’
‘You lying bitch,’ Dean hisses, trying to laugh but coughing instead. ‘None of you give a shit about this village. If you did, I wouldn’t be here, would I?’ Dean slugs back a mouthful of water before looking at me with hollow eyes. ‘I was selling the land I own,’ he says. ‘The meadow by the playing field and two fields on the edge of the village. That’s why I’m here, but don’t believe a word of what Sandra is telling you. They don’t care about new houses going up. All they care about is me selling my land to Stockton’s so they get their cut. Anthony’s been trying to get me to agree to make this lot directors so they can split the profits that way.
‘Then they found out I was selling it to someone else.’ He holds his hands up and shrugs in a ‘now look where I am’ gesture.
The final penny drops – a stone plopping into the depths of the sea. This wasn’t about Dean selling his business; it was about his land and the money to be made on building houses. A lot of money.
‘And that’s what Harrie walked in on that night, was it?’ I ask, my voice thick with emotion. ‘You’ – I nod at Jack – ‘found out about this and wanted to beat some sense into Dean. But he wouldn’t agree, so you locked him in a cage for days on end.’ I shake my head. ‘You’re all monsters.’
Sandra has the decency to look uncomfortable as her eyes travel to Jack, but it’s Kat who answers. ‘She shouldn’t have been there. I’m sorry, Anna. I’m so sorry. This has all gone too far. I never wanted this.’
‘But you wanted the extra money, didn’t you?’ Jack hisses.
‘Hey, hey, hey,’ Anthony steps in. ‘Let’s all take a breath. Rob, Anna, this is all going to be smoothed out, I promise you. I’m terribly sorry for everything that happened to Harrie.’ He shoots Jack and Mike a look. ‘But I didn’t know. I never would’ve let it happen. We can all move on from this.’
‘You’re right,’ I nod. ‘We can, when the police arrive.’
A shocked silence falls across the stable. Jack spins to face me, his hand reaching for something in his back pocket.
CHAPTER 59
Anna
Jack pulls the object free and for the smallest of seconds I think it’s a gun. My heart stops. I don’t breathe as I inch closer to Rob. My head fills with thoughts of the baby and I wish then that I’d listened to Rob and was home right now.
Where the hell are the police?
And then I realize, even as Jack is tapping on the screen of the mobile in his hands, a triumphant smile playing on his lips. I realize no one is coming. Harrie hasn’t told June and June hasn’t called the police. Harrie said it on the bridge. She thinks Jack is the police. I told her it wasn’t true but she’s spent days terrified he’s coming to get her, that she’ll be next to be beaten and locked in a cage or worse. A single reassurance from me isn’t going to have changed her mind.
‘The thing is, Anna,’ Jack says. ‘If the police are called to Barton St Martin, I get an alert.’ He holds up his phone. ‘No alert.’
‘You better hope they’re not,’ Sandra hisses. ‘Because if one of us goes down, we all go down. You’re involved in this too.’ She throws a look my way and I pale as her meaning hits me. I’m the Parish Council clerk. I’ve built Stockton’s website. According to Kat, Anthony was about to offer me a job. They’ve been sucking me in, trying to make me complicit.
They knew my weakness. Money. The letter from the debt collectors flashes in my mind. A debt neither Rob nor I know anything about. ‘Who sent the letter?’ I ask, my eyes flitting between them.
‘What letter?’ Mike asks, checking his watch like he’s got some place more important to be.
‘DCC Debt Collectors. £150,000 mortgage arrears ring any bells?’
My gaze lands on Kat and I see the look on her face of someone who has just been caught.
‘I’m sorry about that,’ she whispers. ‘Truly I am. But I did it for you. I was trying to help.’
‘How is sending me a letter threatening bailiffs coming to my home helping me?’ My voice is a screech.
‘I knew money was tight for you and I knew about the debt you’d had. Everyone did,’ she says, and despite everything my face smarts. ‘But I knew you’d be reluctant to take a job because of your business and the girls, so I faked that letter’ – she shrugs – ‘to help you make the right decision. I was doing it for you. Anna, come on,’ she says, looking at me with pleading eyes. ‘We’re best friends. I know you better than anyone, and you know me.’
‘I never would’ve agreed to the work if I’d known it was … blood money.’
‘Blood money?’ Sandra laughs. ‘You didn’t just say that.’
Jack clears his throat. ‘I think everyone is missing the point.’
‘And that is?’ Anthony asks.
‘Even if the police were on their way, Dean isn’t going to tell them diddly squat. Are you, Dean?’
I’m silent. Stunned. Dean looks around the faces before landing on Rob then me. There is such pain in his eyes that I feel the emotion clogging my throat.
‘I’m sorry, Anna. Jack’s right.’ Dean stops for a moment, leaning over himself and coughing so hard I swear I can hear the rattle in his lungs. ‘Being stuck here has given me time to think and I’ve realized I want to sell the land to Stockton’s. I thought I could teach them a lesson by selling the land to a competitor. There’d be no more fiddling the books then, but I’m just as bad as everyone else in this room.’ His voice has a robotic quality to it, like he’s going through the motions. A broken man.
I want to protest, to tell him he’s not, but Jack jumps in again. ‘So it’s Harrie’s story against Dean’s. An eleven-year-old kid, a known troublemaker around the village and at school—’
‘She’s not,’ I snap.
Jack shrugs. ‘She is if we say she is. Harrie versus a respected businessman who denies everything. Who would you believe?’
For the whole time we’ve been standing here, Rob has kept by my side, a silent rock of support, listening, catching up on what he’s just walked into, but his body stiffens with the mention of Harrie.
‘Just wait a minute,’ Rob says, lunging at Jack. ‘You leave my daughter out of this.’
In two steps the pair have become a brawling force of fists and legs.
It last
s five seconds before Anthony and Mike are stepping in, pulling the men apart, and Rob and Jack are glaring at each other like a couple of boys fighting in the playground.
‘This is over,’ Anthony says, bending down to pick up the torch. ‘I promise you, Anna, I will get this smoothed out and the Parish Council back on track. But Dean and Jack are right. One of us goes down, we all go down. Mutual assured destruction.’
My eyes flit back to Dean, ready to plead with him again to say something, do something. How can anyone just walk away from this? But then I see it – the only way he can walk away is if he says nothing at all.
The atmosphere around us changes. It’s like the end of a meeting, when everyone knows it’s time to leave. Sandra and Jack go first, hand in hand, and I wonder with a fresh wave of red-hot anger if this is what counts as a date night in their messed-up world.
I want to scream for them to come back. This isn’t over. It can’t be. Where is the justice?
Anthony hands Rob the torch before he and Mike step either side of Dean. They help him to his feet and out of the stable, the prison he has been kept in for ten days. I think of the food Harrie brought here, the trips she made without me knowing, the fear she must have felt with every step across the field, and the burden weighing on her that she and only she could keep him alive. But they didn’t put Dean here to die, that much is obvious. They want Dean alive so they all get rich building houses on his land. They must have been bringing him food and water too. They must have unlocked the cage and emptied the bucket every day.
‘Dean,’ I try one more time. ‘You’re not this person. I know you’re not.’
‘I am,’ is all he says, before dropping his head.
Then it’s only Kat. She hesitates, her eyes conveying something that yesterday I would have understood, but she seems closer to a stranger to me now.