Sleep Tight

by Rachel Abbott

  Finally, I take the key from where it hides on top of a cupboard – too high for little fingers to grab and unlock when I’m not looking. I take a deep breath as I turn the key, draw back the bolts and pull the door towards me.

  There he is: his face a white mask, his arms hanging by his side, hands clasped into hard fists.

  ‘Hello, Robert,’ I say as calmly as I’m able.

  But Robert isn’t calm at all. He pushes me with both hands and I slam backwards into the newel post at the bottom of the stairs, trying to suppress a scream. Because if I scream, he will expect the children to come running. And he mustn’t know they’re not here.

  He steps into the hall and kicks the door shut with such force that it springs open again and crashes into the hall cupboard.

  Still he doesn’t say a word. He just stares at me, and I stare back. His mouth is pinched into a hard line and his eyes are burning.

  We stand like that for almost a minute – a precious minute. I’m not prepared to break the silence – the longer it goes on the safer my children will be. And then he utters a single word.

  ‘Why?’

  He says it with such anguish that if somebody didn’t know the truth about Robert, didn’t know what he really was, they would feel sorry for him.

  I say nothing. Delay, delay, delay. That’s all I can think of.

  He walks towards me and reaches out his arms. I think he is going to try to hug me, and I feel sick. I feel sick because of all the times I let him hug me after I knew what he was and what he’d done – all so that I could get my children safely away.

  But he’s not going to hug me. He’s going to strangle me.

  His hands go round my neck and he shakes me. I am coughing, spluttering, and I think I’m going to die. As soon as he’s started, he stops. His hands drop to his side, and he seems almost defeated for a moment. I hope so.

  ‘No, Olivia. I’m not going to kill you. You know I can’t do that. But I don’t know how you could do this to me – leave me, without a note, without telling me where you were. Do you know the police think I’ve already killed you? They’re probably digging up the terrace this very minute. They will have had crime scene guys crawling all over the place – all because you didn’t tell me you were leaving.’

  I can’t help the feeling of satisfaction. Cruel, but nothing compared to Robert’s cruelty.

  ‘Are you coming back to me?’ he asks.

  I put my hands up to rub my neck, and don’t reply for a moment. There are no words I can use that would describe my utter loathing for this man, and I think that maybe by now the children have had long enough to get away.

  ‘I’ll never come back to you.’

  I want to tell him that I’ve seen beyond his mask now. I know what he’s done, and I know who he is. I want to tell him he’ll never see any of us again, but I’ve said enough.

  His moment of weakness has passed, and he’s laughing at me now. He thinks it’s funny. Then his face settles into an expression that I know has been there all along, but I’ve never seen it myself. His chin drops towards his chest, his eyes turn into hard pebbles and his mouth opens slightly to display clenched teeth. It’s the face of evil. He pushes me again, but this time to get past me. He’s looking for my children.

  I can’t stop him. I don’t have the strength. If I’d thought about it, I would have left weapons around the house – something to hit him over the head with, or stab him in his gut. But I never thought he would find me. The war games exercise with the children was the ultimate precaution, but I didn’t believe we would need it.

  I want to run, but I can’t run towards my children and I can’t run away from them either. The magical isolation of this house has one drawback – I can’t run to a neighbour for help. I wouldn’t get more than a hundred metres before Robert would catch me and, anyway, I mustn’t take my eyes off him. I need to follow his every move, because I can’t let him find my children.

  I want my phone, but it’s in the kitchen.

  It doesn’t take more than seconds for Robert to search the downstairs rooms, and he pushes past me and takes the stairs two at a time to check the bedrooms. I hear wardrobes opening, and a bang as he sinks to his knees to look under the beds. I race to the kitchen while he is upstairs, but my phone has gone. Robert has taken it.

  I know he’s in my bedroom when I hear a bark of brittle laughter. He has discovered the decor, which I haven’t had time to change yet.

  ‘Very clever, Olivia. I underestimated you,’ he shouts, as I hear him dash into the next room.

  There’s a crash of a door being flung open, as he discovers the balcony, and I have a terrible thought. I never checked the viewing distance from up there. Will he be able to see the children running away?

  I’ve got to interrupt him, so I race upstairs and shout to him. ‘Robert!’ He can’t miss the urgency in my voice. ‘They’re not here. I swear to you, they’re not here.’

  He spins round and stares at me. Time stands still for just a second, then he starts to walk towards me, speaking slowly.

  ‘Where are they, Olivia? I’m going to find them, you know, even if I have to torture the truth out of you.’

  I stand up tall, my back ramrod straight.

  ‘Do you think for one minute you could do anything to me that would make me tell you where my children are?’ I spit the words out at him. ‘That I would sacrifice their lives to save myself some physical pain?’

  I goad him. I need to get him out of this room, away from that window. I turn round and start to walk down the stairs. He follows, grasping my long, dyed-brown hair, winding it round his hand and twisting it to get a firm grip. He yanks it backwards so that I nearly fall over.

  As we reach the hallway, he wraps my hair more tightly and pulls me through the kitchen into the dining room. I try to reach for him and grab at his arm, but each time I do he pulls harder at my hair. He’s dragging it downwards so I have to walk bent over double, and I can’t reach him to defend myself. He is unbuckling the belt of his jeans as he strides towards the dining room, and in that horrifying moment, I know he’s going to rape me.

  Still tugging my hair down low so that I am practically crawling, he kicks my legs from under me, and I crash to the floor. I brace myself for what seems to be inevitable. While I am still struggling to get off the floor, he plants one foot heavily on my stomach to pin me down and hauls my hands over my head. He wraps his belt tightly round my wrists, and fastens it to a radiator pipe. I am helpless.

  He grabs a chair and turns it around so the back is facing my head, with the four legs on either side of my knees so I can’t kick him. He straddles the chair and leans towards me, his crazy eyes staring at me.

  ‘Where are they, Olivia?’ His face is hovering over me, and I notice his lips are swelling and spittle is collecting in the corners of his mouth. I pray that when he rapes me, he doesn’t try to kiss me. I feel myself shudder. He leers at me. ‘I wouldn’t have believed it possible, but at this moment, my darling wife, I want you more than ever. You have never really submitted to me, have you? I should have tried this before.’

  I want to be brave and shout obscenities at him, but I don’t want anything to accelerate the inevitable. The longer it takes, the more chance that my children will be safe.

  ‘I will fuck you one last time, Olivia. And it will be like never before – something you will remember for the rest of your life. But first, you’re going to tell me where the children are.’

  I close my eyes. I can’t bear to look into his demonic expression.

  ‘Let’s see how brave you are, shall we?’ he says. He takes his Swiss army knife – a present I bought for him last Christmas – from his pocket, and opens it to a serrated blade. He pushes the chair out of the way, and jumps on me – one knee on each side of my thighs to keep my legs under control – and leans forwards.

  He runs the blade of the knife down the exposed skin of my inner arm, from my elbow to my armpit. Bubbles of blood burst
through, and I feel a sharp stinging pain.

  ‘A taste of the agony to come. I don’t want to do this to you, Olivia. But because of you we can never go home, so unless you get the children and come away with me right now, I’m going to fulfil my promise. The one I made to you two years ago. I told you what would happen if you left me. So where are they?’

  I will never tell him. Never.

  But then I hear the worst noise in the world. The door from the kitchen into the dining room is slowly opening, and I hear a tearful voice. It’s Freddie.

  ‘Where are you, Mummy? We don’t like escaping the enemy soldiers without you. Where are you?’

  I don’t make a sound, but over Robert’s shoulder I see my three children framed in the doorway, watching.

  55

  Becky was becoming increasingly anxious. She had called Sophie, who said she had finally managed to make contact with Olivia to warn her. She had tried to get an address too, but as soon as she had mentioned that Robert was on the island, Olivia had ended the call. That was about twenty minutes ago, while Becky and Tom were still en route. But nobody had managed to get through to her since. That didn’t feel right.

  The sergeant was doing an excellent job of giving them a tour of Alderney. They were working their way around any properties that might fit the few details they had.

  ‘The problem is,’ he said, ‘a lot of these properties are owned by people who only come to the island a few times a year. If they’re rented privately, we might not know about it. So it’s going to be difficult. We can knock, but if we get no answer does it mean that he’s holding her hostage, or does it just mean the house is empty?’

  They pulled into the drive of a lovely stone house, and Becky could see immediately that the back garden stretched almost to the sea. How wonderful to live somewhere like this. They knocked, but there was no answer. Tom disappeared around the back of the house and was back in seconds.

  ‘I don’t think it’s this one. The beach isn’t sandy, and I’m sure Mrs Evans said Robert was muttering about the colour of the sand,’ he said. ‘Olivia may have shown him the view from her window, but it certainly wasn’t a view of Cemaes Bay.’

  ‘You’re right, Tom. I should have remembered that.’ Becky could have kicked herself. They may not have known the significance of the colour of the sand, but it was definitely the sand that Robert was interested in. Mention of the bench hadn’t proved to be as helpful as they had hoped. There were benches dedicated in loving memory of husbands and wives all over the island.

  They climbed back in the car, and set off for the next property – this time focusing only on those close to sandy beaches.

  ‘As a matter of interest,’ the sergeant said as he overtook two cyclists, ‘what do you see happening if we find Mr Brookes?’

  ‘We’ll arrest him on suspicion of murder,’ Becky answered.

  ‘Sorry, Inspector,’ the sergeant said with a slightly pained expression. ‘You have no jurisdiction here. You can’t arrest him, and I can’t arrest him on your say-so.’

  ‘Shit,’ Becky muttered quietly. Did that mean if they found him, he could just walk away?

  ‘It’s okay, Becky,’ Tom said, turning round in his seat and giving her a reassuring smile. ‘I knew about this. When you were chasing everybody to get things done as we boarded the plane, I made a call and asked for a warrant to be issued. Somebody’s on it. They’re going to have to deliver the original here. What happens then?’

  Tom looked at the sergeant.

  ‘We have to present it to the Chairman of the Court of Alderney. When do you think your warrant will arrive, Chief Inspector?’

  ‘Tomorrow at the earliest – and call me Tom, please. This is Becky.’

  ‘Ray,’ he responded. ‘So, we’re going to have to work out what to do with your Mr Brookes if we find him. Any ideas?’

  The brief silence that followed was interrupted as Ray’s phone started to ring. Before he had time even to announce himself, Becky could hear a squawking down the line.

  ‘Calm down, Marjorie. I can’t tell what you’re saying. Take a deep breath and try again.’

  There was a pause while Ray listened.

  ‘Okay. Thanks, Marjorie. You’ve done really well. And you did nothing wrong at all. Don’t worry about it – just look after your dad. I’ll pop round later and let you know how we’ve got on.’

  Ray hung up, and put his foot down.

  ‘I think we’ve found him,’ was all he said.

  56

  Robert is hugging the children, but the sight of him even touching them is enough to make me want to scream. Why did they come back? I must have got it wrong. Maybe it was too much of a game. Maybe I should have warned them that there was real danger. But maybe Jaz knew. Maybe she came back for me – to make sure I was okay.

  The boys seem pleased to see their father, but Jaz is just looking at me. Her eyes are as round as saucers as she takes in the fact that I’m tied to a radiator pipe. I want to tell her to run – but what about my boys?

  ‘What have you done to Mummy?’ Jasmine asks, her voice revealing her bewilderment at the fact that I’m lying on the floor with blood running down my arm and on to the carpet. My poor baby girl.

  Robert ignores her. He has no answer that would make sense to a child as smart as Jaz.

  Her eyes flash towards me, then to my arm, then back to Robert. He’s kneeling on the floor now with his arms round both of the boys. I’m watching them, willing them to be safe, trying to think. There must be something I can do.

  ‘I’ve missed you, Billy. And you too, Freddie. Have you been having a good holiday?’ Robert asks in a soft voice. But I can see the madness in his eyes, and I think Jaz can too.

  ‘I’m not Billy any more. I’m Ben.’ Billy says with pride. ‘Do you like my new hair?’

  Robert turns to look at me and shakes his head very slightly. I gaze back at him, pleading with my eyes. But it makes him smile.

  ‘Robert,’ I begin. But he ignores me.

  ‘Listen kids, why don’t you show me around outside? I’d love to see the beach. I’ve only ever seen it on video when I was talking to Mummy.’ He gives me what I can only describe as a look of pure malice.

  ‘What about Mummy?’ Billy asks.

  ‘Mummy can stay here for now. She’s had you all to herself for weeks. It’s my turn now. Come on – let’s go.’

  Jasmine’s eyes are still darting round the room. ‘I’m staying with Mummy,’ she says with a note of defiance in her voice.

  ‘No, you’re not. You’re coming with me,’ Robert answers through a mouth that has tightened. He reaches out for Jasmine, but she bats his arm away.

  ‘I’m staying,’ she says, my lovely little warrior.

  Robert stands up and grabs Jaz by her arm. ‘Come on, guys – take me outside.’

  Jasmine still doesn’t move until he tugs hard on her arm and she nearly falls over. She shrieks in pain.

  I have to escape. I have to find a way of saving them. I pull on the belt, but it won’t move and my shoulders are so sore and lacking in strength. I feel as if I am watching some awful movie, and the four sides of the image have turned black, leaving the centre where my husband and children are standing sharply in focus.

  The boys have realised that something is wrong. They look at Jaz then back at me.

  ‘Stay here, kids. Don’t go with him – he can’t make you all go. Come here, Freddie.’ I want my youngest to be out of his father’s grasp, but I’m too late. Robert grabs him round his middle and hangs on.

  Only Billy is free, and he seems stunned into inactivity. Do something, Billy.

  ‘Jasmine, carry your little brother,’ Robert demands as he tries to pass Freddie to her. I’m not sure that Jaz can carry Freddie very far. He’s a solid little boy, and she’s so slight. When she does nothing, Robert yanks on her arm again. I can see tears spilling down her cheeks, and she looks up at Robert. How can he resist these beautiful faces?

 
‘Leave my children alone, Robert. If you hurt one hair on their heads, I will kill you.’ I know my screaming won’t help. It will just amuse him, and fuel the fire. But if I can just make the children realise the danger…

  Robert laughs, as I knew he would. The hysteria in his laughter is more pronounced than ever.

  ‘If I can’t have you, Olivia, then you must pay the price. I’m only doing what many men before me have done; men like me who have been betrayed, deceived, abandoned.’ All traces of laughter in his voice die with the final three words as his anger bubbles over, spilling its malignancy into every corner of the room. The children have started to cry, and there’s not a thing I can do.

  ‘Say goodbye to Mummy, children. It's time to go.’

  He puts Freddie down and lets go of Jasmine, pushing the children towards the door.

  Robert kneels down at my side and puts both hands around my neck. I cast a last, longing look at my children as he pulls me towards him and then smashes me back against the radiator. My head explodes with pain, but through the fast encroaching blackness I feel his breath against my skin and hear him whisper four words:

  ‘Sleep tight, my darling.’

  57

  My head feels like somebody has taken a machete and cleaved it in two. I try to reach it with my hands in an effort to push back the pain, but I can’t move them. My shoulders ache, and I can feel a stinging wetness on the inside of my arm. What’s happening?

  Somebody is speaking, trying to make me listen.

  ‘Olivia. Come on, Olivia – wake up.’ A gentle hand is stroking my face – not the hand of the person speaking though. It’s a man’s voice, and this hand is too gentle. I hear a woman speak.

  ‘I think she’s coming round, Tom.’ I hear a grunt.

  ‘That’s her hands free,’ says the gruff voice. Another voice is talking in the background, firing urgent staccato instructions. I hear ‘ambulance’, ‘more bodies’, ‘children’ and suddenly I am awake. What does he mean, more bodies? And where are my children?