by Mary Wood
‘It was me insurance to stop that Patsy going to the police. I just need to get rid of it. I’ll throw it over the side of the boat when we get going.’
Shoving the books into the case and grabbing a few more items from the drawer, she ran back into her own room and checked to see if there was anything else she’d need. Her teeth sat in a glass on the side of the bed; she hadn’t had them in for ages. Dipping her fingers into the cold water, she fished them out and placed them in her mouth. They felt as though they didn’t fit, and chafed her gums. Still, if she wanted to attract Jim, she’d better persevere. To that end, she grabbed the brush from her dresser and tried to do something with what looked like a haystack on the top of her head. In her hurry she tugged at the knots, bringing tears to her eyes as great chunks of it came out.
‘Christ, you’re not going to improve on yourself, you stupid old bag! Just get what you need and let’s get out of here.’
‘You get the case, then.’
The night air chilled Rita – a chill that not even the heater in the van could keep at bay. Jim hadn’t spoken, which had left her to her thoughts as they travelled. They hadn’t far to go, as he’d moored just the other side of Teddington Lock in a rural area. He’d ‘borrowed’ the van from a farmyard nearby, so she assumed they would dump that somewhere soon. Her thoughts returned to Patsy. Part of her didn’t care what happened to the girl, but a small part felt responsible for her. ‘What’re yer going to do about that Patsy, then?’
‘The same as you’re going to do with your “insurance” that you no longer need: dump her in the river. Should’ve done it at the same time as I did Ken, the bleedin’ murderer.’
Rita’s blood ran cold. Her earlier thoughts on Patsy dissolved. Now that it seemed a real possibility, she didn’t want the girl dead. She racked her brains for a way to save Patsy, but then another thought occurred: if she did, what of the consequences to herself?
Lizzie heard the noise above, and fear clutched at her heart. Patsy, still under the influence of whatever Rita had given her, had fallen asleep again. She’d told her that her brain felt like it was clogged with spider’s webs. She knew that feeling and knew it wasn’t easy to fight through it, so hadn’t tried to wake her.
Now she snuggled into her, not just for warmth, but for comfort, and stopped the desperate attempt she had been making to free them both.
Another bang came from up above. She had to wake Patsy now . . . In response to her shaking her, Patsy stirred. ‘They’re back, Patsy.’
‘What? Oh God, Lizzie. What now? I’m scared . . .’
This show of fear helped Lizzie. Strength she didn’t know she had surged through her as she felt an urge to help Patsy. ‘We’ll find a way. While yer slept I’ve been picking away at the knot in the rope holding yer. I think I’ve loosened it a bit.’
‘Oh God, if only you could undo it. Keep at it, love, keep at it.’
Sweat ran off her body and pain seared her as she wriggled her arm between them again. Finding the knot, she could feel it had slackened a little. Digging her fingers into the space she’d made, she prised and prised until she could get her whole hand in the gap. Now it all depended on how long the ends were. She daren’t tell Patsy to try to wriggle free – not yet, as that might tighten the knot again. Her fingers chafed as she worked. The soreness of them burned against the rough cord, but now she had enough loose to grip hold of. ‘Right, try to move, Patsy. I think I can stop the knot tightening again.’ Patsy eased her arms out.
‘I’m free . . . Oh, Lizzie, I have me arms free!’
‘Quick, try to get the rope off your legs. I think it must be round mine too. I wouldn’t know as I have no feeling in them, but the only way they could secure yer is by passing it under me and then under the bed.’
‘Yes, I can feel that’s what they’ve done.’
‘Can yer pull it up to the top half of me body?’
‘Yes, it’s coming. Oh, why didn’t we do this before? How stupid!’
‘I don’t know, but we’re doing it now. That’s it, now if I roll a bit yer can push it further under me, then I’ll roll back and yer can put your arm over and release it.’
They had just accomplished this when they heard steps descending towards them.
‘Stay still, Lizzie. Just pretend we’re not free. We’ll wait—’
The door crashed open, flooding the cabin with light.
‘Lizzie, are yer alright, Lizzie, love?’
‘Rita, how could you?’
‘I’m sorry, love. It had to be done. Yer going to be alright now. We both are, and we’re going to continue to be, as your dad’s taking us with him.’
‘I don’t want to go with him.’
‘You’ve got no choice. I’m taking yer.’ Her dad’s voice cut through her. She hated the sound of it. Her body stiffened as he approached and said, ‘Right, Rita, help me to get this one out.’
The vicious swipe that Patsy unleashed caught Jim unawares. His body reeled backwards. Losing his balance, he landed flat on his back. Patsy jumped off the bed and looked around for a weapon. As she turned to grab a brass replica of an anchor secured to the beam by iron hooks, a hand grabbed her ankle. Kicking out didn’t help: the force of the tug pulled her over. An arm grabbed her neck. It tightened until she couldn’t breathe. Lizzie’s screams took over the space, blocking out her thoughts.
‘Get Lizzie out of here, Rita! Get her up on top and stop her fucking racket.’
Rita jumped to do Jim’s bidding. It seemed like she’d become a puppet, ready to dance when he pulled her strings, even if it meant hurting Lizzie! The sickening, full-blown punch that she landed on Lizzie’s jaw catapulted her body backwards, her gasp of pain fading into a moan that went into oblivion. But Patsy’s own desperate attempts to get air into her lungs took away her anguish at Lizzie’s plight, as did the only sure knowledge her brain could interpret: I am going to die!
Through the red mist that clouded her vision she saw Rita drag Lizzie’s unconscious body off the bed and registered it rubbing against her legs as it passed her. From a long way away she could hear Rita’s cusses as she struggled. ‘You’ll have to give me a bleedin’ hand. I can’t get her up the steps.’
The pressure released from her throat. Painful gasps didn’t help. Her body didn’t respond or obey her. She wanted to fight, to stop them lifting Lizzie out as if she were nothing more than an animal, but her head could only process the part of her that wanted to survive.
The door at the top of the steps banged, shutting out the light. Jim’s footsteps coming back towards her filled her with dread. She had no strength left in her to help her to combat whatever he planned to do. She didn’t pray often, but now she begged that there was a God, and if there was then He would have mercy upon her and save her life.
Hot, fetid air rasped painfully in through her swollen throat, bringing her some relief from the bursting, burning pain in her head. Trying not to over-breathe, she slowed her panic.
He was above her now. She could feel the rough material of his trousers against her leg and hear a rattling noise. In seconds the grating of a match lit up the cabin. Looking up, she saw him put the ignited end into the window of a lamp. The wick jumped into life and flooded the cabin with light – an eerie light that swung shadows across the space around her as the lamp creaked and swayed to the rhythm of the boat rolling gently in the water.
Why isn’t he doing anything? The uncertainty of his next action held her tense with fear. She stared up at him, then saw his hand go to his fly. She watched in horror as he slid down his zip. The rasping noise of it reverberated around her. No, not that . . . Not that . . .
The weight of him crushed her. His tobacco breath and the stench of his stale body turned her stomach. Fear gave her new strength. She writhed to one side, unbalancing him. He grabbed her hair, yanked her head back and once more restricted her breathing.
‘You’re fucking having this . . .’
His penis touched her
face. Fluid secreted from it onto her cheek. He rubbed it round. She could feel the bulbous end spreading the sticky substance down towards her mouth. She couldn’t move her twisted body. Horror grew inside her. She willed him to put it in her mouth, because then she could bite down on it with all her rage. But he didn’t. Instead, his free hand shot down and grabbed her leg, pulling it under his knee. Unbearable pain shot through her. Pushing him felt like trying to push down a brick wall, but it did hinder him as he tried to lift her skirt. A stinging blow sent her head back to the floor. He pulled aside her knickers. His penis entered her. It didn’t physically hurt, as she’d long since lost her virginity to a lad at the orphanage and had had other experiences since, but the sick disgust of it tore at her soul. His movements chafed her thighs. His guttural moans assaulted her ears as he pounded her body, stopping only to rip open her blouse and release her breasts.
Taking advantage of this respite, she slammed her fists into his face. His clouded sexual expression changed. Grabbing her arms, he spread them wide. His head came towards her. His mouth cupped her nipple, his teeth digging into her flesh. The searing pain had her howling like an animal.
‘What’s going on in there? Stop it, Jim! Leave her alone. What’re yer doing?’
‘Fuck off, Rita. I’m giving her something she’s familiar with. I’ll fucking tame her . . .’
‘Rita, help me . . . Help me!’
The silence told her no help was coming.
Pulling from her and using all of his brute force, he twisted her body until her face scraped on the wooden floor. The wetness from his penis slid a trail around her thigh. Now it was near to her rectum. No . . . No . . . Please, God!
The noise that came from her as he forced his entry matched what she now thought of herself: an animal. Blistering pain splintered everything that she was. His struggle to thrust with no lubrication stopped him. ‘Christ, talk about a fucking duck’s arse . . .’ She almost laughed, but the only sound gurgling from her were agonizing gulps of pain as he pulled from her again, turned her over and re-entered her vagina, thrusting deep. The action did him. His holler, right next to her ear, assaulted her eardrums and reached her soul, fragmenting it and her as his hot semen pumped into her. But the thought came to her: It’s over . . . over. Thank God!
She couldn’t open her eyes. She didn’t want to look on her tormentor. The sound of his zip closing cemented the end of her ordeal. Her body crumpled, cold tears trickled down her cheek and ran into her ears. Painful racking sobs shook the very fibre of her.
‘Right, that’s the last of that as You’ll ever have.’
His hand grabbed her hair. Excruciating pain ripped her scalp as he lifted her head towards him, then his fist smashed into her face. The jolt rocked her backwards and took her spinning down into darkness.
Thirteen
A Watery Grave
London 1963
Coming to, and not knowing where she hurt the most, a suffocating sensation took Patsy. Sweat poured from her. She tried to move, but couldn’t. When she breathed in, hessian sucked against her lips, she could taste and smell it. My God, I’m in a sack! Terror gripped her as her feet hit against what felt like rocks. No! God, no! He’s going to throw me over the side! The slow chug of the engine told her that the barge-like boat was on the move. Her mind filled with the horror of her fate. Try to think! Lizzie had said the journey to the boat hadn’t taken long. Think of the Thames . . . where does it go on its way out of London? Teddington! Yes, that could be it, that wasn’t far by road. Where did the river stop being tidal? He’d have to drop her before that, so that she was washed out to sea. Oh, it’s no use! I can’t calculate where I am or how long I have left . . . Nor could she discern whether she was still below deck or not. Listening carefully told her nothing. Should she try to call out to Rita? Beg her to help her? This thought had hardly died when someone touched her. Her breath drew in on a moan as she tried to cringe away.
‘Shush . . .’
Rita! Oh, thank God! ‘Rita, help me, please . . .’
‘I’m bleedin’ trying to. Keep quiet. I’ve plied him with drink and he’s nodded off. I’ve sat Lizzie at the wheel. She’s okay and she’s steering us. There’s no obstacles ahead and I’ve tied her so she won’t slip. I’m going to undo the sack and give yer a knife so yer can cut yerself free the minute yer hit the water. Then I’ll tie the sack again so he don’t suspect anything. But before I do, promise me yer won’t give any information about me whereabouts. Promise.’
‘I won’t say anything, I swear to God. But, Rita, use the knife to kill him, then We’ll all be safe.’
‘No, I can’t do that. He . . . well, he’s going to give me a new life, and it’s a life I want for me and Lizzie. He loves her, and he’s always fancied me, and me him.’
‘Rita, he raped me! He raped me while you weren’t many feet away!’
‘Shuddup! That’s of no account. Men have these urges – stuff turns them on. Now, do yer want this knife or not?’
‘I do. If that’s all you’re offering me, it ain’t much of a chance, but at least it’s something. Oh, God, Rita, I don’t want to die . . .’
‘Yer won’t. Anyway, the knife will give yer a chance not to. When I open the sack I’ll cut the ropes on yer hands first, but if you try anything, I’ll stick the knife through yer as soon as look at yer. And, I’ve another one here with me, so if yer attack me when yer have this knife, I’ll not only fight yer, but I’ll scream out for him, and he’ll not show yer any mercy.’
‘I promise. But, please, please, Rita, think about it. You’re giving me a chance, but it ain’t much of one. Please, Rita.’
‘Shut yer mouth. He could wake at any moment.’
At the despair this put into her, Patsy’s body seemed to ricochet off the floor and back again with violent trembles. Terror seeped into every part of her. The rush of cold night air as Rita pulled down the sack from her face took her breath away, giving her the knowledge that she was already on the deck. He’d got everything ready. She moved her neck, and a pain shot through her head. ‘Where are we?’
‘We’re headed back to London. Bleedin’ daft if you ask me. There’s river police everywhere up there, but he reckons as he knows what he’s doing. Said as he needs to be in the tidal bit. Right, am I to give yer this knife or what?’
‘Let me go now, Rita. Let me swim to the shore. Lizzie can steer nearer to the bank. Please, please . . .’
‘And where will that leave me and Lizzie, eh? He’s likely to kill me, and Lizzie will be at his mercy. No, this is the only way I’m going to do it. Yer have to stay in the bag, play it as though you’re unconscious when we lift yer, and then once yer hit the water it’s up to you. Any tricks before then and I’ll scream blue murder and confess to him what I’ve done. Nuffin’ will save yer then, girl.’
Defeated, she gave in. She couldn’t put Lizzie in further danger. ‘Okay, thanks, Rita. I promise; I’ll play dead for yours and Lizzie’s sake.’ They were brave words, but they belied the sheer horror that burned into her soul – a horror that vomited from her in billows of vile-tasting, stinking sick as Rita tied the sack.
‘There, that’s it. Good luck, girl, and I’m sorry. I mean it. I’m bleedin’ sorry, I am, but there’s nuffin’ I can do.’
Panicked into lifting her hand, her only thought was to slash the sack open right away and take whatever consequences that brought, but a voice stopped her.
‘’Ere, what’s goin’ on? Get away from her, you old bag.’
‘Leave her alone, Dad. She were only checking that Patsy was still breathing. Get up, Rita. Get up, love. Dad, please, please don’t kill Patsy. Let her come with us. She won’t tell. She wouldn’t put me in that danger. Please, Dad.’
Patsy held her breath. She didn’t think for a moment that Jim would take any notice of Lizzie’s plea, but she hoped with all that was in her that he’d come over to check what Rita had been up to. That would at least give her a chance, because no matter ho
w abhorrent it was to her, if she got the chance, she’d stick the knife into his heart.
‘Lizzie? What’re you doing up there? Christ, Rita, what’re yer up to? Yer fucking messing about with me head.’
‘She’s alright. She’s secure. I thought it best she steered, to give us two free hands. I were just getting stuff ready, that’s all. That cow’s still out for the count, and as we’ve entered tidals I thought now were the best time to do it. Once I had everything ready, I were going to wake yer.’
‘We ain’t where I want to be yet. I need to be sure she’ll go out with the next tide.’
‘But it’s getting rough, and the river police’ll be patrolling. We’ve got to do it now, Jim.’
Patsy’s heart raced. Her fingers tightened around the knife. Fear gripped her. Her soul begged of God to give her a chance of escape, but then her mind turned to the horror of what would happen if she failed. Supposing she couldn’t make a big enough hole to get out? What if the water was so cold that it stunned her?
‘Yeah, I think you might be right. Help me get her to the side.’
This is it! Help me . . . Help me.
Lizzie started up with a moan. The eerie sound further chilled Patsy, and she hoped with all her heart that Lizzie was faking. The noise was one of great distress. How much more could Lizzie take? Already fragile, she’d taken one shock after the other in the last twenty-four hours. Oh, why did I ever want revenge? What’s the matter with me? Why can’t I be normal and do what Lizzie or Harri would have done? They’d have gone to see their mother and forgiven her . . . Thinking of Harri put a fresh ache in her heart. Would she ever see her again? But these thoughts swam away in a new tide of horror as she felt Rita and Jim take hold of the sack and roll her over. Gritting her teeth, she tightened her grip on the knife and lifted her hand, willing herself not to make a sound as the bricks hit her ankles. The boat swayed. Something heavy dug into her side. A foot. He was ready to push her, but he didn’t. The pain of the pressure of his heel in her ribs brought a moan from her. ‘She’s bleedin’ coming round. Quick, shove her. Hey, let go of me . . . Jim . . . No! Aghhh!’