by Helen Phifer
Megan nodded. ‘You might one day, Henry. Have you tried writing to her?’
He laughed. ‘They won’t let me send any post out, especially not to her. I just wish there was something I could do. I’m not like that now; the thought of hurting anyone repulses me and I feel sick just thinking about what I did. I honestly believe at the time I had no idea of what I was doing or the harm I was causing. But now, thanks to everyone’s help, the doctors and yourself, I feel like a different man. I think the tablets must help a lot.’
Megan stood up to leave but before she did she reached out and squeezed his hand. He shivered at her touch. It had been so long since a woman had touched him.
‘I’ll see what I can do, Henry, leave it with me.’
She walked out, slamming the metal door behind her and turning the key in the lock. He sat in his chair, staring out of his window with a huge grin on his face; the girl was too gullible for her own good. This was going to be much easier than he’d thought; he held a morbid fascination for her, which was a good thing. He would continue to manipulate her until he had her right where he wanted and an escape plan set in stone. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to kill pretty little Megan, but if he did then so be it.
Chapter Eight
The helicopter landed on the grass and Will watched as the crew unloaded the stretcher and ran with it across to the waiting ambulance. He ran over and caught a glimpse of Annie’s blood-covered face. She was unconscious and had drips attached to her arms. Stu grabbed his arm to hold him back as they loaded her into the ambulance but he pulled free from him and jumped in with her before they had a chance to tell him to follow behind. It was only a short ride through the hospital grounds to the Accident and Emergency entrance but it felt like forever and he wasn’t leaving her.
He sat at the side of her, holding her hand. ‘I’m here, Annie; it’s okay, you’re going to be okay.’ He kept on repeating it over and over. The ambulance stopped and they unloaded her and rushed her through to the resuscitation cubicles, where the curtain was drawn across and Will was told firmly to wait outside.
Stu came rushing in. ‘How is she? There’s never anywhere to bloody park here. I’ve just abandoned the car on the double yellows; they can give me a ticket, I don’t care.’
‘I don’t know… She’s unconscious; they’re working on her.’
He turned and went to the reception to book her in so they had her details and could access her medical records. All he kept thinking about was her head. Jesus, she needed a crash helmet—surely all these injuries couldn’t be a good thing. What if she was brain-damaged or worse? He shuddered. After he’d given her details, the receptionist led him to the relatives’ room, where he looked at her.
‘No, it’s okay—she’s okay. I just thought you might want somewhere private to sit and wait and not out there with everyone else.’
‘Okay, thank you… Will you come and get me straight away?’
‘Yes, the doctor will be out as soon as she’s stabilised to let you know what’s happening.’
Will walked over to the window. How many times had he sat in here when the shoe was on the other foot and he was supporting families waiting for news of their loved ones? He’d never liked this part of the job, though when he’d first joined it was all he’d seemed to do for six months and he’d been so depressed by it all he’d been tempted to pack it all in, hand in his notice and get a job as a postman, anything that didn’t involve dealing with incidents like these. He’d stuck it out and now he was a Detective Sergeant. In a couple of years he might even go for his Inspector’s exam if he could be bothered. What he wanted most was to marry Annie and settle down in their new home together. He watched a man outside who looked a similar age to him, playing with a little boy, and he felt his heart ache. The man who’d never wanted to settle down or have kids now wanted nothing more than to be married with a couple of kids to play with. He wondered if Annie would feel the same. At least if she was pregnant she would have to take it easy at work. His dream was for Annie to leave the police and get a safe job, one that didn’t involve driving through windy country lanes at ridiculous speeds to go to a domestic or an accident.
He snapped out of his daydream as his phone began to ring. He pulled it out of his trouser pocket to see Jake’s name flashing across the screen.
‘Will, the house is gorgeous, mate, I’m so jealous. We left Annie painting your bedroom and went to the pub but we’re on our way back. We’ve been stuck in traffic for ages because there was an accident and they had to close the road to let the air ambulance land. Is she home yet because Alex has something he wanted to show her—I’ve tried ringing her phone but it’s just going to voicemail?’
Will turned away from the window and spoke quietly. ‘I’m at the hospital, Jake. It was Annie who was in the accident. Her car went off the road and hit a tree.’
‘No way. Is she okay? Jesus Christ—I knew we shouldn’t have left her alone; I’ve had a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach since we did.’
‘She’s unconscious, has a punctured lung and I can’t even remember what else. I’m in the relatives’ room, waiting for a doctor to come and tell me that she’s going to be okay.’
‘We’re on our way. I swear to God she needs locking in a house and never let out in public on her own again; what’s she like?’
Will didn’t know whether to be relieved that Jake was coming or not. He was a drama queen but Will would rather have him for company than Stu, who was sitting on the chair not speaking. At least Jake’s nonstop talking would keep his mind occupied.
‘You can go if you want, Stu. Jake’s on his way with Alex.’
‘No, it’s okay, Will; I don’t want to leave you here on your own.’
He didn’t finish what he was going to say but Will silently finished it off for him: Just in case it’s bad news and you need someone.
‘Honestly, it’s fine. Annie will be fine; she’s come through worse than this. She’s tough. You get back and then you can tell Kav the latest update. If I need you I’ll ring and, anyway, when they come to get me you’ll only be sitting here on your own.’
Stu stood up. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Positive.’
‘Okay, I’ll go then. Ring me if you need anything or want a lift home to get some stuff.’
Stu squeezed Will’s shoulder and then opened the door and left, pulling out his mobile to no doubt ring Debs and fill her in.
The man and little boy were still playing outside on the small piece of grass and Will smiled at them. His eyes filling with tears, he turned and sat down on a chair that was slightly softer than the hard plastic ones in the waiting room and waited for either the doctor or Jake to come and find him.
***
Amelia left Tom’s house. He hadn’t come out of his room all morning since he’d read her card. He had rung the bell and asked her to bring his laptop up to him from the study, which she had done, knowing fine well he was about to start searching for her mother. Well, he could look all he wanted; she’d never been on Facebook or had an email or Twitter account before she’d died. In fact she hadn’t owned a computer full stop, refusing to even look at one.
Amelia drove her battered Corsa through the lanes until she reached the cottage she was renting. It was only small but it had a cellar, which had been the main requirement when she had been looking for it, and it also had a long private drive so the cottage couldn’t be seen from the roadside, which was perfect for her needs. When she brought Will home she didn’t want any spectators.
She walked in to see her boyfriend Luke playing on his Xbox. ‘Do you know what really makes me sick to the teeth? They live in that huge house and drive Mercedes four-by-fours and BMWs and I have to drive that clapped-out piece of shit that’s held together by the rust. Every time that Annie comes all they talk about is the wedding that Lily is spending my money on like there’s no tomorrow. Spending my money while I have to clean the toilets they sit on so I can afford to eat
, when it should be the other way around. I hate the lot of them; it will serve them right to worry what has happened to precious Will when the time comes.’
Luke nodded; it was easier for him to agree with whatever she said, otherwise she was prone to get violent. He’d already had a split head and a black eye off her this year. She looked at him in disgust. If he thought she was keeping him around when she got her payout he had another think coming. He would be told to pack his bags once her plan had been carried out and given some cash to keep quiet, but for now he would have to do because she couldn’t do this on her own and she had no one else to trust. She made her way upstairs for a shower.
She came back down naked, her damp hair hanging loose around her shoulders. She walked in front of the television and he groaned. ‘What did you do that for? I just died!’
Then he looked up at her and realised she was naked and grinned. ‘Oh, I’ll let you off.’
She strode up to him and took the control from his hands, throwing it to one side, then she straddled him.
‘Tell me the words I want to hear, Luke—tell me you’ve finished my cellar or I won’t let you fuck me. I don’t want to wait much longer. I want to put the plan into action and get Will as soon as it’s done. I want him tied up in the cellar while Daddy is panicking and getting me a suitcase full of cash together.’
He kissed her then pushed her off. ‘Come on and see for yourself.’
He took hold of her hand and led her into the kitchen and the cellar door. He slid the two bolts across that he’d fixed to it just this morning and opened it, pulling the cord and illuminating the uneven stone steps. The smell of damp lingered in the air but the cellar was pretty watertight. He led her down the steps to the small room at the bottom, which must have been used as a food storage place years ago. She looked around. He’d nailed planks of wood over the one window, which led onto the back garden; he’d also attached two black cast-iron ring pulls to the wall so she could tie Will’s ropes to them and secure him to the single bed that he’d put up. There was also a bucket for him to pee in.
Amelia nodded her approval. ‘I’m pleasantly surprised, Luke. You’ve done well.’
She grabbed him and dragged him down onto the bed, kissing him hungrily, and he let out a sigh of relief that for once she was pleased with him.
1782
Betsy arrived at Joss’s cottage just before six and was greeted by two identical twin boys who were playing on a rope swing hanging from a huge oak tree in the garden. She forced herself to smile at them and they waved at her. She opened the gate and walked in.
‘Hello, is your father around?’
‘He might be—who is asking?’
Betsy felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end—the cheek of the little brat. She had told herself that she had to give it time to get to know them if she wanted to make it work with Joss and that she would do her very best, but she knew it was pointless. She’d only spoken to them once and she already hated them even more than she had last night when Joss had left her to come and be with them.
‘Tell him Betsy is here, please.’
The slightly smaller one of the two nodded and jumped off the swing, running to the house and through the front door, shouting for his father. The other one jumped on the rope and began swaying himself. The whole time he never took his eyes from her and she stared right back at him. Two could play that game.
Joss came through the door and grinned at her. ‘That was good timing, Betsy; I’ve just this minute taken the pie from the oven. Boys, this is Betsy, my friend. Betsy, these two terrors are my sons, Thomas and Henry.’
She gave them her best smile, even though it hurt her cheeks. ‘Well, I’m very pleased to meet you both; what a handsome pair of young men. I bet you look even better with all that mud scrubbed from your hands and faces.’
The boys looked at each other and giggled. Joss marched across the garden until he was standing directly in front of them. ‘The pair of you get in that house and clean yourselves up; did I not tell you not to get all muddied up?’
They stopped smiling. ‘Yes, Father, sorry.’
With that they both ran off into the house and Joss turned to look at Betsy.
‘You’ll have to forgive them; they don’t see many people, other than my parents and their schoolteacher. They are good boys most of the time, but they do like to make a mess, climb trees and do everything I liked to do myself when I was a lad once over.’
Betsy laughed. ‘They are adorable, Joss; they remind me of you so much. I don’t mind them at all.’
As she spoke she kept her fingers crossed behind her back and hoped the contempt she felt towards them did not show on her face. He led her inside his home and she marvelled at how big and light it was. There were lots of windows, unlike her damp, cramped cottage in the village, which still smelt of death.
‘Oh, Joss, this is a fine home; you are so lucky to live here.’
‘I reckon I am very lucky to live here but I work hard for it; my father is a hard man to please and if he did not think I deserved this house then he would make me leave it and he would move someone in here that he deemed worthy of it.’
She was standing looking out of the big windows which overlooked the orchard at the back. She turned around to face him.
‘You are a good man, Joss, and you would make someone a good husband.’
His cheeks flared red and he turned away, going back into the kitchen. Betsy could have kicked herself. Why had she just reminded him of his dead wife? Stupid girl—she would have to watch everything she said from now on. She wanted him to think she was pure of thought and not see through her disguise.
The boys came thundering down the stairs, looking much cleaner than they had ten minutes ago, and they smiled at her. She smiled back. This was much better; as much as it pained her, she had to pretend to like them until she could move in and then she could do what she had planned. She followed them into the kitchen, where the huge table was set with a steaming pie and a big pot of vegetables. It smelt good and she felt her stomach rumble for the first time in days.
‘That looks a fine pie, Joss; did you make it yourself?’
The boys giggled and Joss smiled.
‘I cannot lie to you, Betsy; no, I didn’t. I just put it into the oven. My mother makes a batch of them and sends them down so we don’t starve ourselves.’
‘Well, your mother is a very good cook then and also very kind; did you tell her I was coming for tea?’
‘I did and she thought it was a very good idea, didn’t she, boys?’
They both nodded in unison as they waited eagerly for Joss to dish the pie out. He stood up and filled four plates with pie and vegetables, passing Betsy hers first, then his sons and finally he sat down himself. The boys put their hands together, ready to say grace, and Betsy followed suit as Joss said a prayer of thanks to the good Lord. Then they began to eat. They talked about the weather, the crop of apples that were ripening on the trees out the back and lots of other things. When they had finished, Joss sent the boys upstairs to play before they had to go to bed and they ran off, glad to be on their own. Betsy helped him to clear the table and then she began to fill the sink with water from the kettle which had boiled on the stove. Joss told her to leave it; he would see to the dishes when she had left, but she pushed him away.
‘It’s the least I can do, Joss, please let me.’
He nodded and stepped back from her, sitting at the table to watch her. When she had finished drying the pots she wiped her hands and walked across to him.
‘You have a beautiful home, Joss, and a lovely family. I used to dream about living in a house like this when I was a child—a home filled with love and laughter. My mother was always in bad health from the day I was born and I spent most of my childhood looking after her and cooking and cleaning. This is a terrible thing to say, but I felt relieved when she died, as if I was free to finally have a life of my own.’
She bowed her head
and lifted a finger to wipe away a tear which wasn’t there. Joss stood up and pulled her close to him. She lifted her face to stare up at him and he bent down and kissed her. It was Betsy who pulled away, not wanting him to think her too forward, but inside she was gloating.
‘I know this is probably far too soon, but how would you like to live here with us, Betsy? I don’t mean as my wife…well, not yet, unless you wanted to, but more like a live-in helper. You could help to look after the boys, which would make it a lot easier for my mother, who isn’t getting any younger, and if you wanted to help with the cooking and cleaning that would be up to you, but I would very much like it if you said yes. We could see how it goes and then, when you are ready, if you wanted to be more than a helper then I would be more than happy to marry you, Betsy Baker.’
‘Oh, Joss, I don’t know what to say.’
‘Say yes, please. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for weeks. I want you so much that it hurts.’
She smiled and lifted her lips to kiss him, then pulled away. ‘Yes, I would love to live here with you and look after you all. But I want to be more than some housemaid, Joss; I want you just as much.’
Loud shouting from upstairs and thudding broke the moment and Joss pulled away from her, running towards the stairs.
‘Boys, stop it now; if you can’t play nice then you can go to bed. I’ll be up in five minutes and I want you tucked up under your covers.’
Betsy wanted to go up and smack the little bastards for spoiling the moment; she would soon change them once she moved in. There was no way they would get in the way of what she wanted and that was Joss; she didn’t care one bit about the brats—she only wanted their father and his house.