The Drowning Tide (Blair Dubh Trilogy #2)

by Heather Atkinson

  When Mandy’s lips twisted into a smile Craig realised his error. In Mandy’s head in order for that to happen Freya had to be gone. By uttering those words he’d just signed her death warrant.

  “No,” he cried, lunging forwards.

  When Freya felt the pressure on her neck increase as Mandy prepared to cut she threw herself backwards. Mandy moved slightly to the side, avoiding being pushed over but it knocked her off balance. Freya brought up her right arm and pushed the hand holding the knife away from her neck while driving her left elbow into Mandy’s ribs. She was satisfied to hear Mandy release a cry as she tripped backwards and Freya spun round, drawing back her fist. The satisfaction was indescribable when she connected with Mandy’s face, knocking the woman onto her backside.

  “Not my face, my beautiful face,” she screeched.

  Freya straddled her and slammed her fist into her face again and again, grinning as blood spurted from her nose. Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her back while Bill and Jimmy rushed to pin Mandy down.

  “Get off,” Freya shrieked, struggling to get at Mandy again.

  Craig’s firm hands cradled her face, forcing her to look at him. “Are you alright?”

  “She stabbed me in the back.”

  Gently he raised her hoodie and sighed with relief. “Just a flesh wound, like she did to me.” He kissed her hard. “I love you, I didn’t mean any of that, I just said it so she’d let you go.”

  “It’s alright, I know,” she said, starting to violently shake.

  He held her tight, pressing his cheek to her hair, shaking badly too. “Thank God, thank God,” he whispered, on the verge of tears. He couldn’t believe how close he’d come to losing her.

  “You mad bitch, I’ll kill you,” screamed Nora, slapping Mandy hard across the face, who had been dragged to her feet and was being held by Bill and Jimmy.

  “Mum, take it easy,” said Craig.

  Nora’s lower lip trembled then she burst into tears. She pushed Craig out of the way and enveloped Freya in her arms. The two women clung onto each other and it was unclear who was comforting who.

  “Lizzy, get over here,” called Nora.

  Lizzy bustled up to them, similarly in her dressing gown and slippers. “Freya are you hurt?”

  “Her back was cut, like my stomach was,” he said.

  “Come across the road and I’ll patch you up.”

  They all turned to look as the wail of a siren filled the air and two police cars shot down the street, lights flashing, followed by an ambulance then Gordon in his car.

  The convoy rolled to a halt and Gordon jumped out. “I fetched them,” he said. “Is everyone okay?”

  “Sort of,” replied a weary Nora. “Why didn’t you just use the phone?”

  “A pylon was blown over last night, they’re all knocked out. My mobile wouldn’t work either. I had to drive to the station at West Kilbride. The phone lines won’t be back up until tomorrow at the earliest.”

  Steve and Gary jumped out of the police car, followed by Hughes.

  “Oh great, it’s the fud,” muttered Craig.

  “What’s this about? Who’s she? What has she done?” said Hughes in his pompous way.

  Craig ignored him and spoke to Gary and Steve. “This is Mandy, my ex. She stabbed Freya and held a knife to her throat. Get her the fuck out of my sight.”

  “Craig, you don’t mean that. You want me, I know you do,” shrieked Mandy.

  “No I don’t. I only said those things so you’d let Freya go. I hate you. I hope they lock you up and you never see the light of day again.”

  “It’s a fine line between love and hate,” she winked.

  “There’s no love for you Mandy. All the love I’ve got is for Freya. By the way, I never liked your skinny body and flat chest. You look like a Twiglet.”

  “Craig,” she yelled as he walked away with his arm around Freya. “Craig, look at me.”

  He ignored her, stopping Steve and Gary when they moved to restrain her. “She’ll try and use her charms on you. Don’t fall for it. She’s dangerous.”

  “You can trust us,” replied Steve.

  Craig nodded. “I know I can. Call DS Muir at Glasgow West End. He knows all about her.”

  “Will do.”

  “Freya, you okay?” said Gary with concern.

  “I will be,” she replied, still shaking.

  Gary planted a kiss on her forehead before pulling the cuffs from his belt and approaching Mandy with a grim look.

  Mandy tilted her head determinedly. “You are not putting those on me.”

  “Want a bet?” he growled.

  Craig steered Freya to the ambulance and helped her inside.

  “Which hospital are you taking her to?” said Nora.

  “I’m not going to hospital,” replied Freya.

  “You’ve been stabbed,” said Craig.

  “You didn’t need to go so neither do I.”

  “You don’t know that yet. Let the paramedic take a look.”

  “Fine,” she sighed, staring into space while she was examined.

  “Just a shallow cut,” explained one of the paramedics. “I’ll apply a dressing but it could do with some stitches. It might be best if you did go to hospital.”

  “I’m not going.”

  “Freya, don’t be so stubborn,” said Craig.

  “I said I’m not going,” she yelled. “Stop nagging.”

  He held up his hands and they sat in silence while the paramedic dressed the wound.

  “Right, all done, but I would like to take you to hospital,” said the paramedic, made distinctly uncomfortable by the awkward atmosphere.

  “Thank you but no,” she replied, coolly polite. With that she got to her feet and Craig helped her down. They watched as Steve and Gary wrestled Mandy into the back of their patrol car, Hughes being careful to keep well out of reach of her sharp nails, barking useless orders at the two constables, which they ignored.

  The villagers surrounded Freya, ignoring the two officers who were trying to interview the witnesses, asking if she was okay. Freya found she didn’t have the energy to reply so she just stared back at them. When Graeme stormed up to Craig she sighed, hoping there was no more violence but determined to walk away if there was and leave them to it.

  “I knew you weren’t up to protecting her. That was your fault,” he spat at Craig.

  Rather than the expected anger Craig just hung his head and nodded. “You’re right. It is my fault.”

  “Oh,” said Graeme, disappointed he wasn’t going to get to continue the fight.

  “Come on love, get into the house before you fall down,” said Nora, taking Freya’s hand and leading her back inside the cottage.

  Before he could follow Graeme blocked Craig’s path. “You don’t deserve her. You’re contaminated with the Blair Dubh evil. All you’ll ever bring her is misery and death.”

  “Leave it Doggett,” Bill growled in warning. “Go home, you’re not helping.”

  Graeme shook his head in disgust before walking away.

  “Ignore that prick,” Bill told Craig. “He’s not all there.”

  Craig just nodded, feeling drained and a little sad. What if Doggett was right?

  He swallowed hard when he walked into his mum’s house. Freya was curled back up on the couch, shaking again. He couldn’t blame her for wanting a drink after an experience like that, anyone would. He craved a dram himself but that wouldn’t be fair. She didn’t react when he put an arm around her shoulders, continuing to stare straight ahead with an empty gaze.

  “I think it’s safe to say she was the one who desecrated your mum and dad’s graves,” said Nora.

  When Freya didn’t reply Craig said, “I think so.”

  “And she stabbed Craig in the woods.”

  When Freya failed to respond for a second time Nora looked to her son, who stared back at her with a troubled gaze.

  “At least it’s over now, you’re safe,” she conti
nued, undaunted. “I’ll make some tea,” she added, bustling into the kitchen and shutting the door behind her, hoping some privacy with Craig would snap Freya out of it.

  “I’m so sorry Babe,” said Craig, gently stroking her back, careful to avoid her wound. “Freya, can you hear me?” he said when she failed to respond again.

  She gave one slow nod.

  “Why won’t you look at me?”

  She shrugged.

  He realised she was cutting herself off from everyone around her, retreating into the self-preservation techniques she’d learned as a child. She would sever all the bonds she’d built up, determined to rely on just herself and he would lose her.

  “Freya talk to me, please,” he said, grasping her hand. “If this is about what I said you know I didn’t mean it. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I love you. I hate Mandy.”

  “The wind’s dying down.”

  “What?”

  “The wind’s dying down,” she replied in a quiet dreamy voice.

  Looking out of the window he saw the trees weren’t being blown about quite as much, the birds able to actually fly in the sky and not just hover. “That’s good.”

  “The danger’s gone.”

  “Yes it has. You’re safe. After what Mandy did today they will lock her up and throw away the key. She can’t ever hurt us again.”

  “Maybe,” she replied before retreating back into her own world.

  Craig was scared. Freya had already endured so much trauma in her life and he feared what this fresh shock would do to her.

  The kitchen door opened and Craig looked to his mum for help. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “It’s okay, just give her a bit of peace. She’s in shock.”

  Her words didn’t reassure him but he went silent, slumping back in the couch, regarding his wife with worried eyes. He took Freya’s right hand, the knuckles bruised from punching Mandy, but she didn’t appear to notice.

  “Freya?”

  She ignored him, continuing to gaze out of the window.

  “Leave her be Craig,” said Nora gently. “Leave her be.”

  CHAPTER 24

  DCI Gray was amazed. He’d been able to keep the news of Docherty’s escape quiet. He’d felt sure someone at the hospital or in the prison service would have blabbed to the papers but so far so good. Perhaps they all realised the importance of getting someone as dangerous as Docherty back under lock and key as soon as possible.

  He’d wasted time on Arran checking Brodick harbour to make sure Freya and Craig weren’t moored there. They weren’t. He’d felt sure he’d find them safe and sound but after flashing their photos around the local pubs and restaurants he found there was no sign of them. The two detectives he’d sent to Turnberry had turned up nothing either.

  Now he was on his way to Blair Dubh in an unmarked car accompanied by a detective constable, their last chance at finding her. He’d just had a call from DS Donaldson’s area command. His superior had finally told DS Muir - who Craig had hired the boat from - that his colleague was in danger, although no one at their station knew what that danger was. Muir had said he’d spoken to Craig only yesterday, who had been concerned his stalker of an ex-girlfriend was causing problems. Freya and Craig were in Blair Dubh. They’d been unable to contact anyone in the village, something to do with a fallen telegraph pole caused by high winds. With a bit of luck Freya and Craig would have already moved on, which would mean they were out on the water somewhere well out of Docherty’s reach.

  He was keeping this visit to Blair Dubh low key, accompanied by an officer Docherty had never met. Going into a village as small as Blair Dubh with an armed response team would have attracted a lot of unwanted attention. This way was subtle and if Docherty was there he wouldn’t panic and do something stupid. He didn’t really believe Docherty was in Blair Dubh anyway, he was still lurking in Glasgow. Davey had told him nothing and not even the neighbours knew the Donaldsons had gone away. He’d no way of knowing where she was. Gray was here to warn her of the danger and send her away on her boat where Docherty couldn’t reach her, then she’d be safe. When he couldn’t find her hopefully Docherty would come after him instead and he’d be ready. The prospect of putting that bastard away for a second time was a very satisfying one.

  Davey slammed his old Ford Capri into gear, cursing under his breath when it whined and protested.

  “Come on girl, you can do it,” he told the car.

  Unable to relax until he knew Freya was safe he’d decided to take a few days off work himself and look for her. He couldn’t stand the thought of Docherty getting his hands on her again.

  Davey’s expression was troubled as he cast his mind back several years to when Freya had first come to him for help with her addiction. A shockingly pale and thin woman with a mass of black hair and thick black eye make-up that made her look even more ill had slunk into his office and thrown herself into a chair. He’d never encountered such resilient mental armour before and it had taken him a while to get her to open up, naturally she’d been very mistrustful, used to relying on no one but herself since she was eleven. But Freya had wanted to get well and that incredible inner strength and determination of hers had seen her through.

  Gaining her trust had been a very gradual process. She’d begun with letting slip a few details about her nightmares, which led to her discussing what had happened to her mother, being taken from her home, the abuse in care, living on the streets. She’d told her story in a quiet detached voice but when she’d finally got to the part about Docherty she’d broken down, shaking with fear and a considerable amount of rage too. She’d explained how good DCI Gray had been to her, believing her story, encouraging her, giving her the courage to get through the trial. After she’d spoken about Docherty she’d been much more relaxed in Davey’s company, she’d trusted him. He’d spotted her potential early on, recognised her strength and knew here was a person he could really help, and he had. His greatest success. Whenever he had a bad day, depressed by the endless parade of damaged, abused humanity and he got the urge to pack it all in he just spent some time with Freya, revelling in how happy she was, how well adjusted and content with life. Then he’d roll up his sleeves and plunge back into the fray. She gave his life meaning and he’d wring that bastard Docherty’s neck before he let him hurt her.

  Hughes was amazed by their prisoner’s transformation. As they’d left Blair Dubh Mandy had calmed right down, staring out of the window serenely, flashing him the occasional stunning smile and he found himself smiling back.

  “This is all a big misunderstanding,” she said sweetly. “I only wanted to scare Freya, she’s taken so much from me.”

  “You stabbed her,” barked Gary from the front.

  “I didn’t mean to. She moved just as I came up behind her.”

  “You stabbed Craig in the woods,” added Steve, who was driving.

  “Wasn’t me,” she cheerfully replied.

  “Yeah, right,” said Steve.

  “I’m an innocent woman,” she said, voice cracking, tears welling in her eyes. She flapped her cuffed hands before her face, which was swollen and bruised from Freya’s fists. At a calculated moment she crossed her legs, her already short shorts riding up her thighs and Hughes’s eyes bulged. “Freya has destroyed my life and she’s still doing it,” she sobbed.

  “What a load of bollocks,” muttered Gary.

  “PC Reid you will refrain from using such language in front of a lady,” chided Hughes.

  “That’s no lady. She tried to kill Freya after making her life a misery and she’s going down for it.”

  “There’s two sides to every story and I think it’s time Miss Allan’s was heard,” said Hughes.

  “Jeezo,” huffed Gary, scowling out of the window.

  When a call came through about a car accident on Irvine Road Hughes told them to respond.

  “We’ve got a prisoner,” protested Steve, “and we need to get her checked out at th
e hospital after the pounding Freya gave her.”

  “That was great,” smiled Gary.

  “PC Reid I will not tell you again,” said Hughes. “You are acting very unprofessionally. Now hit the siren. You two can deal with the accident while I interview Miss Allen.” As Hughes spoke his eyes flicked to Mandy’s thighs then slid up her body.

  “She’s a dangerous prisoner,” said Steve.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll behave, won’t you Miss?”

  “Of course I will,” she smiled. “And please call me Mandy.”

  “Mandy,” he replied dreamy-eyed, making Gary tut.

  “Looks like a nasty one,” said Steve as they approached the scene of the accident. A black Audi had smashed into a small white car on the opposite side of the road and shunted it into a hedge.

  “When will people learn not to overtake in stupid places,” sighed Hughes. “Find the driver of the Audi, if they’re still breathing, and do them.”

  Steve parked up and the two constables jumped out, slamming the doors shut so hard the car rocked and Hughes scowled at their retreating figures.

  “I do apologise for that pair Miss Allen,” began Hughes.

  “Mandy,” she purred.

  “Do excuse me, Mandy. How did you come to be in Blair Dubh?”

  “I came to put all this nonsense with Freya to rest. She keeps accusing me of stalking her when in truth it’s the other way around. She’s mad, she thinks there’s still something going on between me and Craig. I keep telling her Craig’s very sweet but it’s over. She never listens. She attacks me then says it was the other way around. I don’t know what to do,” she said, more crocodile tears spilling down her cheeks. “She’s making my life a misery and I came here hoping I could talk to her and Craig and sort it out once and for all. As usual she wouldn’t listen. She went mad and I was forced to pull a knife to defend myself.”

  “Why were you carrying a knife in the first place?”

  “I’ve been camping out and I use it for cutting wood. It’s a practical tool, I never intended to use it on a person but you’ve seen how violent she is, look at my face.”