Gone

by Rebecca Muddiman

  ‘Bye, Jessie,’ Ben replied and waited until she was out of earshot. ‘There’s something I need to do first. Maybe you should go home.’

  ‘No,’ Emma told him. ‘I can’t.’

  Ben looked away from her and she wondered if she should just leave him alone. He’d already done so much for her. Lucas had hurt Ben once, she couldn’t bear for it to happen again. But she was scared. She didn’t know how she’d cope by herself. And how could she be sure Lucas wouldn’t find her eventually?

  ‘I need to go and find someone,’ Ben said. ‘A girl who’s been coming here. I’m worried about her.’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  Ben sighed. He looked like he didn’t have the energy to argue. Or maybe he knew he wouldn’t win. Emma felt strange being the one in control.

  ‘I don’t even know where she is,’ he admitted. ‘Someone mentioned seeing her over at Lime Court. You don’t know her, do you? Jenny Taylor?’

  Emma stuck close to Ben as he asked around. She’d recognised a few faces. Lucas’s customers. She wished she hadn’t come. Someone might see her, tell him she was there. No one was talking to Ben anyway. It was a waste of time. And she really didn’t want to see Jenny.

  ‘Up there?’ Ben said, distracting Emma from her thoughts. She watched as a young kid walked away, stuffing a tenner into his pocket. ‘Come on,’ Ben said and she followed him up the concrete steps, wishing she had somewhere else to go.

  Ben knocked on the door and it creaked open. Emma felt a fly buzz past her face and caught a whiff of something foul. Worse than the rest of the estate. She saw someone watching from the flat next door.

  ‘Wait here,’ Ben said and stepped into the flat. Emma ignored him and followed him inside. The smell was stronger. They both covered their faces and edged further in.

  ‘Jenny?’ Ben said, though not quite loud enough for anyone to hear. Emma felt her stomach churn. It wasn’t just the smell. It was more than that. A feeling.

  She followed Ben through the flat to a half-open door at the back. She could hear buzzing. More than just one trapped fly.

  She heard the noise from Ben before she saw her. He turned, gagging, and Emma saw her too. Her blonde hair spread across the pillow like Sleeping Beauty. Only Jenny wasn’t sleeping. Her face was caved in. Flies were making themselves at home on her corpse. Ben brushed past her as he ran out. She could hear the sound of him retching.

  She couldn’t move. She was mesmerised by her. By the mess of her body and the brilliant shine of her hair where the sliver of sunlight between the curtains hit it. The girl who had been so big, so angry. All she could think was, That’s what I’d look like if I were dead.

  She felt Ben come up behind her. He pulled gently at her elbow. ‘We need to call the police,’ he said.

  Emma didn’t move. She felt like she was seeing her future.

  ‘Emma?’

  ‘That could be me,’ she said. ‘That’s what Lucas will do to me.’

  Ben stepped in front of her, blocking her view of Jenny. ‘We need to go,’ he said. ‘You shouldn’t have to see this.’

  ‘That could be me,’ she said again and stepped around him, looking at what was left of the girl.

  ‘No,’ Ben said. ‘It won’t be. We’ll call the police. We’ll tell them about Lucas. I won’t let it happen to you.’

  ‘No, you don’t understand,’ she said, finally looking at Ben. ‘That could be me.’

  Chapter 91

  17 December 2010

  Lucas moved closer to Emma and put a hand on her cheek, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face. ‘The best thing you ever did for me, Em. You got rid of the body, the evidence. Any trace that I was ever there. If you’d left well alone I probably would’ve been banged up for it. But instead,’ he said with a smile, ‘here we are. Think about that before you die.’

  ‘You killed her,’ she said again and looked past him at the grave he’d started to dig. Her elbow cracked into his face before he had time to react. He fell backwards and she kicked out at him, pushing him further away.

  Lucas struggled to stand up straight, watching as she kicked out again, the twine starting to fray. He lunged at her and her foot caught him in the jaw. ‘Fucking bitch,’ he said and grabbed her legs. She reared her head back at him, catching him on his temple, knocking him off her. Pulling her feet apart, she ripped the twine and scrambled to her feet.

  Lucas grabbed for her, catching her ankle, pulling her back to the ground. She kicked out again but he got his footing and slammed into her back. She started to scream and he pushed her face into the mud. ‘Shut up,’ he said. He rolled her to the side and they both slipped into the ditch. He pushed her down and then reached up for the shovel, raising it above his head. She cowered beneath him and he climbed out of the ditch. It wasn’t deep enough but it’d do. He brought the shovel down and felt the vibration up his arm as the metal made contact with her skull.

  She was still.

  Lucas stood over her, his breathing out of control. He thought he could hear a noise coming from somewhere behind him. How far was he from the road?

  He turned back to the grave and started shovelling the soil back in, watching her slowly disappear.

  Chapter 92

  8 July 1999

  Emma sat on the bus, trying to hold back the tears. With one hand she held onto the bag with everything she owned in it – Jenny’s dole book, Ben’s savings, and an address in Alnwick where his mother lived. The other hand clutched at her neck where her mother’s necklace should’ve been. Ben had put her bus pass in Jenny’s pocket but he said it wasn’t enough. He’d asked for the necklace. She didn’t want to but she was giving up everything else. Giving up being Emma Thorley. She had to do it. The only way she would escape Lucas, the only way she’d live, was by pretending to be dead.

  She’d convinced Ben it could work. There’d be no DNA to ID her as she didn’t have any real family. Not that that made it any less painful. She knew it would destroy her dad. She kept telling herself that it was for the best. That one day she’d find a way of telling him she was okay. But what if that day never came?

  And what about Ben? She’d left him to sort things out again. Only this time he wasn’t passing on messages. He was going to break the law. He was going to bury Jenny.

  Emma realised she was crying when the old lady in the seat next to her held out a tissue.

  What had she done?

  She got up and moved to the front of the coach, stopping beside the driver. ‘I need to get off.’

  ‘No unscheduled stops,’ he said without looking at her.

  ‘It’s an emergency,’ she said. ‘Please.’

  ‘Next stop is Sheffield. You need to sit down.’

  Emma made her way back to her seat. She’d get off in Sheffield and come back. She needed to stop Ben. Needed to stop him from ruining his life.

  She leaned against the cold window and thought about her dad. Ben had asked her over and over if she could do it. If she could walk away from her life. She’d felt so sure. But now?

  She looked at her watch. It was late. She wondered where Ben was. If he’d gone back to the flat yet. If he’d started. She sobbed as she thought of him burying Jenny. How could she have agreed to let him do it alone?

  Ben had promised he’d sort things out, but what if someone found the body too soon and worked out it wasn’t her? Still, she’d be long gone by then. Maybe Lucas would’ve given up.

  And what was so good about being Emma Thorley anyway? She might not have her own life, but she’d be free.

  Chapter 93

  17 December 2010

  Gardner looked across at Freeman as they drove. Local police had been helpful, and it was one of their officers that’d spotted the car, but as they approached the woods he saw they hardly had the cavalry to help with the search. He saw one parked police car at the side of the road, and an officer standing beside it looking like he was freezing. Freeman pulled in and Gardner jumped out.
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  ‘What’s the situation?’ he asked the officer.

  ‘I’ve checked the car, no one inside, no sign of any damage but then the light’s not great.’ Gardner nodded and Freeman caught up with him.

  ‘Can you wait by the car?’ Gardner asked the officer, and he nodded as if he was always in charge of waiting by cars.

  ‘How far away is back-up?’ Freeman asked, looking at her watch. ‘We need to get in there.’

  Gardner sighed. He looked up and down the road for any sign of a car. Nothing. He turned to the officer again. ‘We’re waiting on some support. When they show up, tell them we’ve gone in looking for her. Tell them to secure a perimeter first and then anyone else should come in and start looking too. All right?’

  Gardner started walking towards the car that Lucas had dumped. He ducked down and looked inside, shining his torch around the interior. He turned and looked at the fence surrounding the woods. ‘Shall we?’

  Gardner climbed over first and put out a hand for Freeman, which she ignored and jumped down behind him. They both had their flashlights on but still couldn’t make out much beyond a few feet in front of them. The trees were closely planted, and though the branches were bare they hung low, dipping down under the weight of recent snow.

  Behind him Freeman cursed as another branch hit her in the face. He only had to deal with them hitting him in the chest. That was something. He could feel his feet sinking into the sleet-soaked earth and every time he stood on a rock or bit of rubbish he’d drop his light to the ground, wondering if he’d found Emma.

  ‘There’s a light over there,’ Freeman said and pointed to the left.

  ‘It’s probably from a car.’ He turned to look back at the road. He couldn’t see any sign of it now, even though they’d only been walking a couple of minutes. He wondered where the back-up was. They were going to need more than two pairs of eyes. They needed another team to start at the other side at the very least. He’d chosen to start here because of where the car had been dumped but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. She might not even be here. He tried to push the thought out of his mind.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ Freeman said and stopped walking. She shone her light to the right, moving it back and forth. ‘I thought I heard something.’

  Gardner looked over to where her torchlight shone. ‘I think you’ve been watching too many horror films,’ he said. Then he heard a rustle. ‘Okay, I heard it that time.’ His heart beat fast.

  Freeman started walking towards the sound. Gardner followed. There was nothing there but ahead they could see a clearing. Freeman turned back to him.

  ‘I see it,’ he said and they started running towards it. Freeman slowed at the edge of the clearing; her light showed a mound of earth. ‘Shit,’ she said and shone her torch on a piece of twine discarded on top of the soil.

  Gardner spun around, checking for any movement, any sound, while Freeman knelt down.

  ‘Gardner?’ she said, her voice low. He turned back and saw it. The arm sticking out from beneath the soil.

  He dug away the mud and turned Emma over and Freeman checked for signs of life. ‘Very faint,’ she said.

  Gardner pulled his phone out and called for an ambulance. ‘We need to get her out of here,’ he said and bent down to pick Emma up. ‘I think he’s still here. She can’t have been under there long.’

  ‘Get her out, I’ll check for Lucas,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll go,’ Gardner said, but Freeman shook her head.

  ‘No. You need to get her out. I can’t carry her.’

  Gardner glanced down at Freeman’s stomach. Couldn’t help it.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘Go.’

  Gardner picked Emma up and started to make his way out of the woods, hoping he could find his way. He looked back over his shoulder as Freeman edged her way through, flashlight in hand. That was the only weapon she had. He hoped she wouldn’t need it.

  Chapter 94

  9 July 1999

  He’d been thinking about it for days. The morning after had been a blur. The power of vodka. But bit by bit things were coming back and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. About her. What he’d done to her.

  He remembered seeing her in the pub. He’d just seen Emma. Finally caught up with the little bitch, told her he knew what she’d done. But Mikey had got in the way and she’d run off, leaving him with his anger and nowhere to direct it. And then he saw Jenny in the pub. She was already fucked up. Obviously her trips to see Ben hadn’t helped. She was all over him the minute she saw him. He didn’t want to know.

  He sat there in the pub among all the scumbags who paid his wages and let it stew. He could barely hear the pounding music, the inane chatter, the clatter of the fruit machines. All he could hear was the blood pumping through his veins, his pulse thumping.

  He got up to leave. She started to follow. He knew she was there but he let the door slam into her face. She didn’t care. Kept coming. Knew he could give her what she wanted.

  ‘Fuck off, Jenny,’ he said and lit another fag.

  ‘Where you going?’ she asked, catching up to him. She took the fag from his hand without asking. Took a drag. Gave it back.

  ‘Fuck off,’ Lucas said.

  ‘I’ll give you a blow job,’ she said, skipping in front of him. His hand curled into a fist. She thought she was sexy but she wasn’t. Wearing a dress a hooker wouldn’t be seen dead in, topped off with a filthy tracksuit top. She was a skank. She’d had her roots done. He wondered how she’d paid for it. How many blokes she’d had to shag for that?

  ‘Piss off,’ he said and turned back the other way. He should go to Emma’s. Show her he meant what he said. Show her she wasn’t going to get away with it.

  Jenny came up behind him, slid her hand round onto his chest. ‘Come on, Lucas,’ she said. ‘You know you want it.’

  Lucas grabbed her wrist and swung her in front of him. He could see fear in her eyes that quickly dissipated. She started laughing and pulled him towards the estate.

  ‘Come on,’ she said again.

  Lucas stood still and she bounced back as if she were attached by elastic. He stared at her. He’d done her before. Used her while Emma was gone.

  They were standing below the flats where her filthy squat was. He stared at her fake hair, her desperate smile, and something made him want her.

  He pushed her inside and she stumbled against the wall, giggling. He grabbed her wrists and forced her onto the bed.

  ‘Emma,’ he whispered.

  ‘Whatever,’ Jenny said and let him hold her down.

  And then it went black. A blank until he was running down the piss-stained concrete stairs from the flat. He pulled a tab out of the pack and dug around his pocket for the lighter. He came up empty-handed. Fuck. He must’ve left it in the flat. He wasn’t going back for it.

  He made his way through the estate, ignoring the shouts from all the fuckwits wanting something from him. He knew it wouldn’t make any difference. They’d always be back. There was no such thing as customer service in this business. Besides, most of them would be too pissed to remember in a few hours.

  The offy on the corner was still open. He went inside for a lighter, wondering if he had enough cash on him for a bottle of something.

  He slid the lighter onto the counter and pointed at the bottles of booze lined up across the back shelf. ‘One of them,’ he said, pointing vaguely in the direction of the vodka. He didn’t much care what it was. He just needed something to forget about things. Forget what had happened.

  He didn’t drink much these days. But seeing Emma like that had pushed something inside him. If it hadn’t been for her he wouldn’t have got so angry. Wouldn’t be drinking half a litre of cheap vodka in the street like the fucking homeless.

  Lucas unscrewed the lid and tossed it over a fence. He doubted he’d save any for later. He kicked a black bag across the street, the contents scattering. Bits of old kebab and dirty nappies.

  He
hated this place. He needed to get out. Needed to leave. The place was a shithole. Nothing to do. He had to move on, forget about Emma. Get out before the cops came looking for him. And they would, sooner or later.

  Now, three days later, there was still a sickness in his stomach and it wasn’t the vodka. Curiosity got the better of him.

  He looked around the estate, but it was deserted. Too early for the scumbags to be up and about. He’d wondered if anyone would’ve noticed yet. If the place would be crawling with coppers. But there wasn’t a soul about.

  He climbed the stairs, dodging the shit, presumably dog’s, possibly not, and went to the door. It was unlocked. He pushed it open with his elbow, though it was probably too late for that. He knew he shouldn’t have come here. He should’ve gone, left town.

  But he had to see for himself. Had to see what he’d done.

  He walked inside. There was a smell but he couldn’t tell if it was anything different to the usual stench of the place. He ignored the living room, the kitchen, the filthy bathroom. He paused outside the bedroom. He could taste bile in the back of his throat.

  What if he was right?

  He pushed the door open, expecting her to be there, waiting for him; expecting to see her half-naked, decaying body on the bed.

  But there was nothing.

  No dead girl.

  Lucas let out a breath. He’d been wrong. He hadn’t killed her.

  There was no dead girl.

  Chapter 95

  17 December 2010

  Lucas kept moving. The lights had freaked him out. It had to be the cops; no one else would be walking about in the dark. But if the cops were there, then how was he going to get back to the car? He could walk away, head in another direction, but he had no fucking idea where he was and he’d probably freeze to death before he found civilisation.