The House on Candlewick Lane

by Amy M. Reade

  I turned on the water in the bathtub. How I longed for a nice, long, hot bath.

  Instead, I slumped against the porcelain and waited.

  A couple hours later, the phone rang, its trill screeching through the flat.

  “Who’s ’at?” the man from St. Giles yelled.

  There was mumbling, then a shout. “Arnie! Open the door! Get her out of there!” More shouts as I could hear footsteps pounding toward the bathroom.

  So Arnie was the man from St. Giles.

  “What the—?”

  The door swung open. Arnie’s face was twisted in pure rage.

  “What the hell do ye think ye’re doin’?” he yelled.

  I sat on the toilet seat, not wanting to get my feet wet. The bathtub faucet still ran full force. The water cascaded down its sides, coursing across the floor and into the hallway. I suspected the phone call had been from the downstairs neighbors, complaining of a flood coming from their ceiling.

  There was a banging at the front door. Arnie ran to get it, pointing at me. “Stay there!” Gerard answered the door; voices went back and forth in anger. I looked around, then spied what I had been looking for. A mobile phone lay on the kitchen table.

  I sloshed through the water as quietly as I could. The voices still yelled at the front door, the thick Scottish accents becoming stronger as the anger became more heated. I dialed the police, set the phone on the table, crossed my fingers and said a prayer, then waded back to the hallway in front of the bathroom just in time. Gerard and Arnie got rid of the people at the door and came charging through the flat back to the bathroom.

  In the confusion, neither man had thought to turn off the water. Gerard pushed past me and wrenched off the faucet. Then he, came back and stood before me, his nostrils flaring and eyes glittering black.

  “Think ye’re pretty smart, do ye?” Before I could move away, he punched me in the torso. I groaned and doubled over, trying to breathe. I feared he had broken a rib.

  He hit me again. This time I landed on the floor, my head lolling into the water. I couldn’t catch my breath. He drew his foot back, but Arnie grabbed his arm.

  “Ye better not,” he warned. “We don’t want the nosy arses downstairs to hear and make more trouble.”

  Gerard glared at me, then reached down and jerked me to a sitting position. I covered my head in a pitiful attempt to ward off any blows he might give me, but he didn’t hit me again.

  “Get off the floor, ye soppin’ eejit. You’re becoming a real problem. No wonder Neill couldn’t stand ye.”

  “What do we do now?” asked Arnie.

  Gerard closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. “I don’t know. Just let me think a minute, will ye?”

  The three of us stood in the hallway, the water swirling around our feet. Finally Gerard said, “We’ll take her back to Mum and Dad’s. No one’ll find her there.”

  “Yer mum’ll know.”

  “Who cares? Mum’ll do what I tell her to do, and I’ll tell her to keep quiet.”

  “What about yer father? And Beatrice?”

  “We’ll take her in when they’re not home. Beatrice must have felt bad for her after you beat her up. She took the duct tape off ’er when she was there. Can’t take the chance she’ll let her loose or something.”

  Gerard grabbed my arm, then pushed me in front of him toward the front door.

  “Wait, I forgot my mobile,” Arnie said. I froze as he reached for the phone on the kitchen table and pushed it into his coat pocket without even glancing at the screen. I breathed a quivery sigh of relief.

  Gerard went first down the stairs, then I followed him. Arnie came down last. As soon as we were outside, I glanced quickly in each direction, praying I would see lights from an approaching police car. There was nothing but darkness.

  Arnie seemed to be the designated driver. He slid into the front seat while Gerard opened the back door and pushed me inside. Once Gerard was in the front seat, Arnie started the car. He was pulling out of the parking space when the first red-and-blue swirling lights appeared against the side of a building at the end of the block.

  The police were coming.

  Arnie hit the brake and the car lurched forward, then backward. My head was flung against the window, and Gerard’s lip hit the dashboard. Blood ran down his chin.

  “Punch the gas and drive!” Gerard yelled. I hung on to the back door while the car shot forward, hitting the car in front of it.

  “Dammit, man! Can’t you do anything?” Gerard screamed. Arnie put the car in reverse and backed up. The police were speeding up the street toward us.

  Gerard grabbed the wheel and yanked it to the left, but Arnie had taken his foot off the gas pedal. “Go!” Gerard yelled.

  “The police are right there!” Arnie exploded.

  “But they’re not here for us,” Gerard said, trying to stay calm. “You panicked because you saw the lights, but they’re not here for us. They don’t even know we’re here.”

  “Yes they do,” I said in a voice that seemed too loud.

  Both men turned around and stared at me. “What do ye mean? You’re off your nut,” Gerard sneered.

  “I called them.”

  “Nice try, Greer,” Gerard answered in a triumphant tone. “Now go,” he told Arnie, turning back to face forward. “They’re not here for us.”

  “I called them from his phone,” I said, pointing to Arnie.

  “How’d ye do that?” he asked.

  “You left it on the kitchen table when you went to answer the door. I called them and left the phone on.”

  Gerard let out a scream that seemed to come from the depths of his very soul. He was reaching for the door handle when a police officer tapped on the car window. Arnie was already getting out of the car.

  One of the officers looked into the back seat. “You okay back there?”

  Without warning, the tears started to fall and I shook my head. The officer spoke a few words into the radio clipped to his shoulder and opened the back door. He took one look at me and shouted for his partner. “Call for an ambulance.” As soon as he spoke, the two officers who were talking to Gerard and Arnie said something to each man. They put their hands in the air.

  The police officer turned to me. “Are you the one who called?”

  I nodded, still crying and unable to speak. He led me to one of the police cars and eased me down onto the back seat, leaving the door open.

  The two men were being led to the other police car. Gerard sat in the back and one of the policemen stood beside Arnie, presumably waiting for another police car to arrive.

  It was finally over.

  CHAPTER 24

  In the confusion that followed, I gave a statement about everything that had happened over the previous two nights. It seemed a lifetime ago that I had left my flat in Edinburgh to fetch raspberry jam for Ellie’s biscuits. I cried again thinking about her, wondering when I would get to see her.

  The ambulance arrived a few minutes later. I was whisked to the hospital, where I was diagnosed almost immediately with a broken jaw, a broken bone around my eye socket, two cracked ribs, and bruises and lacerations too numerous to count. I was dozing on painkillers when James strode into the room.

  “Greer!” The relief in his voice was palpable. His eyes moist, he swept over to my bed and kissed my forehead.

  “The doctors told me not to give you a proper kiss because of the damage to the bones in your face,” he told me, gently running his finger along my hairline.

  I smiled, my eyelids heavy with sleep. I lifted my hand to reach for his. I was so happy he had come.

  “Ellie?” I whispered, my mouth dry.

  “She’s back at the flat with Sylvie and Seamus. They all want to come visit, but they sent me as the advance team because they wanted to know what shape you’re in. They didn’t want Ellie to see you and be afraid if your injuries were severe. And it looks like they are.”


  I nodded sleepily.

  “Would you like them to visit?”

  I mumbled incoherently, unable to speak. How bad did I look?

  I was vaguely aware of James pulling up a chair and holding my hand as I drifted off.

  When I woke up to the sun streaming through my window, I was still groggy and in pain. Even closing my eyes against the sunlight hurt. I opened them a slit and turned away from the window. James watched me from the side of the bed. Had he been here all night?

  I smiled and squeezed his hand. He stood up to close the blinds, then came back to me.

  “How are you feeling this morning, my love?”

  I groaned, unable to open my mouth. Lying on a comfortable bed in the relative safety of the hospital room, I had finally been able to sleep deeply for the first time since my kidnapping. Rather than benefitting from the rest, though, my face had stiffened up, my ribs throbbed, and the rest of my body felt lame and sore.

  A doctor came into the room. In a quiet, soothing voice, he explained the surgery that would be necessary on my jaw. That would happen right away, he said, so the jaw would start to heal properly. Normally, such news would have sent me into a frenzy of anxiety, but the painkillers were doing their job and my nerves stayed calm.

  James held my hand. After the doctor left, he pulled out his mobile phone. “Why don’t I call Sylvie and Seamus, and have them bring Ellie out to visit? They’re all dying to see you, and I know Ellie must be beside herself with worry. Sylvie and Seamus haven’t been able to give her a good answer about where you went after you left the flat the other night and I’m sure she realizes something is up.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled.

  James dialed, and soon was speaking to Sylvie. She must have asked to speak to me, because he put the phone on speaker and pointed it toward me.

  “Greer, thank God you’re safe! We’re bringing Ellie out to see you later today, after James calls and tells us the surgery is over. Love you.”

  I tried to smile. James hung up and sat with me in the darkened room until the nurses came to get me ready for surgery. I couldn’t go under anesthesia with all the painkillers still in my body, so I had to wait until they wore off. By the time I was wheeled into the pre-op, I was in a great deal of pain.

  When I awoke from the surgery, my jaw had been wired together. I couldn’t eat, but the nurses helped me drink water from a straw. While I was still in recovery, James called Sylvie and Seamus and told them to bring Ellie to the hospital within the next few hours.

  The tears burned and stung my face when Ellie, followed by Sylvie, Seamus, and my mother, walked tentatively into my room just before dusk that evening. Ellie saw me and gasped, but then ran over to my bed. She took my hand, rubbing my dry skin with her finger, and told me everything would be all right. Sylvie, Seamus, and James watched from the doorway. Sylvie and Mum cried openly, James blew his nose, and Seamus blinked rapidly, pretending he had something in his eye.

  Ellie seemed to know I was trying to smile through my wired jaw. James stepped forward to explain to Ellie, probably not for the first time, that I wouldn’t be able to talk for a few weeks until my jaw healed. She nodded solemnly. I didn’t know how much the adults had shared with her about my ordeal, but I hoped it wasn’t much. It would be best if Ellie thought I had been in an accident.

  The others came closer. Mum leaned over and kissed my forehead. James watched the reunion, a wide smile on his face. Then he drew Ellie away and asked her if she’d like something from the hospital cafeteria. She nodded and took his hand, and the two sauntered off.

  Sylvie took Ellie’s place in the chair next to me, and Seamus stood on the other side of the bed. Mum stood nearby.

  “What really happened?” Sylvie asked, leaning forward on her elbows.

  I gestured to a notepad on the table next to my bed. I scribbled a short paragraph for her to read aloud.

  The man from St. Giles is named Arnie. He works for Gerard. He grabbed me when I left the flat to get the jam and then he took me in a car. Beat me up.

  She gasped after she read the note to the others and Seamus curled his fists into balls. “What a beast!”

  “Do you know why he grabbed you?” Sylvie asked.

  I wrote again. Gerard wants more money.

  “Money? What does he need money for?” she demanded.

  My wrist was getting tired from writing. The money I gave Neill was supposed to go to Gerard. But he doesn’t have the thousand pounds.

  “So who has it?” Seamus asked.

  I don’t know. I was too exhausted to continue.

  “What are you talking about?” Mum asked, clearly bewildered.

  “Never mind. We’ll talk about it when Greer’s feeling better. Thank God Arnie and Gerard are in jail. You just concentrate on feeling better,” Sylvie said.

  While we waited for James and Ellie to return, Seamus told me all about what they had done with Ellie while I was missing.

  “We wanted to keep her mind off missing you. It wasn’t easy. But we took her to a park, a playground, a museum, and two restaurants. And we baked enough goodies to last a lifetime!”

  I nodded my thanks, hoping they would see the gratitude in my eyes. Before long, James and Ellie were back and it was time for everyone to return to Edinburgh. Mum explained they had told Ellie this would be a short visit so I could get some rest, but they promised to come back in the morning. Ellie kissed my hand and waved good-bye as they left the room. I missed them as soon as they disappeared down the hallway, but I had happy dreams that night—no Neill, no dark alleys, no strangers, no Gerard, no Arnie.

  Two days later, I was released. My injuries were all under control, and my jaw was healing nicely from the surgery. I still could only mumble, but I was getting pretty good at getting others to understand me. Mum returned to Dumfries, promising to visit soon.

  I was thrilled to be home and back with my daughter. Eventually the wire was removed from my jaw, allowing me to talk a bit more clearly. I hired a tutor to provide lessons for her at our flat because I still wasn’t prepared to send her to school—not in Edinburgh, nor back in the States. Gerard and Arnie had insisted they hadn’t killed Neill, and the police apparently believed them.

  So Neill’s killer was still unknown and out there somewhere.

  Ellie and I were quite possibly still in danger, the police told me, until that person was apprehended. They advised me to stay local, where they were familiar with the circumstances surrounding Neill’s death and they could protect us. I hoped we wouldn’t need protection.

  James was trying his best to convince me to stay in Edinburgh. His incessant requests—more like pleading—were better than his previous decision to walk away from me entirely, but I was undecided. My job was in the United States, as were my friends, my colleagues, and my home.

  But as the days passed and there was no word from the police, Ellie and I began to meet people—at the park, at the playground, at the museums we visited. Ellie’s tutor had two daughters, and the three of them would play together in our flat for hours. Ellie began to ask questions about going to school in Edinburgh, and I found my insistence on returning to the United States wavering.

  And it wasn’t just because Ellie was making friends. I, too, was meeting people—other mothers, friends of James, friends of Sylvie and Seamus. I began to weigh the pros and cons of living in the States or staying in Scotland.

  And, of course, there was James. The more time I spent with him, the more I loved him and the harder it was to imagine my life without him in the United States. When we’d been apart, I felt like part of myself was missing. Having Ellie back would have been enough for me to be happy for the rest of my life, but now there was the possibility of even more—of a permanent life with James if I decided to stay in Edinburgh.

  One night when I went to check on Ellie, I switched off the nightlight and sat on the bed, watching her sleep. As I looked around in the dappled moonlight
, my gaze fell on each piece of furniture, each doorway, each irregular floorboard that had become so familiar over these past long weeks. I love this flat. I can’t see myself living in Dumfries, back in Mum’s house, even for a short time. I want to stay in Edinburgh, with or without James. This is the first place Ellie came to when I got her back—I want her to stay here.

  I stood up and switched the nightlight back on. If Ellie had awakened, she would have asked why I was smiling so broadly. And I would have told her: because we’re going to stay in Edinburgh.

  When I told James a few days later that I had decided to stay, he was the happiest man I had ever seen. We were walking through Princes Street Gardens when I gave him my decision.

  “James, I have some news.”

  He stopped walking and turned to face me, squeezing my hand. “Is this the news I hope it is?”

  I grinned. “I think so. I’ve decided to sell my house back in the States and stay here in Edinburgh. With you.”

  He let out a whoop that startled all the people around us. Strangers smiled and pointed as he picked me up in his long, strong arms and swung me around, my feet leaving the ground in happy flight.

  He kissed me for a long time in the sunshine underneath the cherry trees. I couldn’t wait to get home to tell Ellie. I knew she would be thrilled. We would miss our friends in America, especially Dottie and her family, but we could visit them and they could visit us. I could seek a position with a university in Edinburgh or apply for funding to establish a new position through my university to teach long-distance from museums and historic places in Scotland. James thought the idea was brilliant and started making plans immediately to introduce me to everyone in the Edinburgh art world I hadn’t already met.