by Mel Sherratt
‘Stop!’ Allie sobbed but Graham continued regardless.
‘My hands were around her neck and I was strangling her.’ Graham dropped his hand from her face and mimed what he had done in the air, but then he began to cry. ‘I didn’t realise what I was doing, I swear.’
His shoulders began to shake as sobs wracked his body.
Allie didn’t have any sympathy for him.
‘When I left, I was convinced she was dead,’ he wiped at his face, ‘but she was still alive.’
‘No, she wasn’t.’ Allie found her voice at last. ‘You should have killed her. You shouldn’t have left her how she was. It was cruel. I’ve had to watch her for seventeen years, you bastard. You should have finished the fucking JOB!’
He leaned forward and slapped her across the face. ‘Don’t play mind games with me. You wanted to know what happened to her and I’m telling you.’
‘No, I don’t want to know!’
‘Oh, I think you do.’ He grabbed for her feet, loosening the rope around them.
As soon she could, she took the opportunity to kick out but he stilled her with a punch to the chin, dazing her once more.
‘You might as well give in now,’ he told her, calm again. ‘I’m not going to stop until I’ve had you. I’ve waited long enough for this moment.’
The hand holding on to her foot pushed it up so that her knee was upright. The fingers of his free hand traced a line over the knee and up her thigh, moving over her skirt, inching slowly up her towards her body. Her breathing erratic again, she shivered as his hand found her blouse and pulled it out. Forcing her knee down to the floor of the van with his own firmly on top of it, he took hold of each side of the material and pulled. Buttons pinged across the van, leaving her skin exposed. Goosebumps sprang out all over her.
‘A white virginal bra,’ he smiled as he gazed at her chest. ‘How apt for my angel.’
Allie burst into tears at the mention of the word.
He ran his fingertips up and down, from the waistband of her skirt to the bottom of her bra and back.
‘Please,’ she whispered, failing to keep her feelings in a box. ‘You have to –’
‘I can’t hear you.’ He came closer.
‘Please kill me afterwards. Please don’t leave me like you left Karen.’
Graham sat up. ‘Who the fuck are you to give me orders?’ He prodded himself hard in the chest. ‘I’m the one who says what goes on around here.’
He undid the button on his trousers. Allie sobbed when she heard the zip go down and felt his hands fumbling around as he lay on top of her. He forced her legs a little wider and she closed her eyes.
‘Open them,’ he demanded.
She shook her head. She wouldn’t give him that last bit of satisfaction.
‘Open your eyes!’
‘Never!’ She squeezed them tighter to prove a point. ‘You can violate me by forcing yourself into me but you will not take me along with you.’
Graham froze. ‘Violate you. Is that what you think I’m going to do to you?’
‘Yes.’ The tremble in her voice matched the one in his.
He sat up, pulled her blouse around her nakedness and smoothed down her skirt.
Allie was close to passing out with her next thoughts. At the very least her bladder was about to give way. He was going to get a knife, wasn’t he? If he couldn’t violate her, wouldn’t he kill her instead?
‘I don’t want to touch you if you think that,’ he said, his voice emotionless.
‘What else could I think?’ she said.
‘I can’t do that.’ He began to sob. ‘You’re too special. Don’t you understand? I love you! And seeing you with Mark all the time, I . . .’
Allie cried now. He knew Mark’s name. Did he know everything about her?
Graham stood up, paced the van, grabbing handfuls of his hair and pulling at it. He looked down on her, spittle at the corner of his mouth.
‘After all this time,’ he said, ‘I thought you loved me but you love him more.’ He punched her in the face again. ‘You’ve ruined everything!’
She groaned as pain creased her once more.
‘You’re nothing but a whore. Just like your sister. A dick tease.’ He grabbed the collar of her blouse, pulled her up to his face. ‘You’re going to pay for that.’ With his knee putting pressure on one of her legs, he untied her hands and dragged her to the edge of the van by her hair. She screamed as he opened the door and threw her to the ground. The concrete scraped into the palms of her hands but she managed to land on all fours.
She looked around. It looked like they were in a garage, a double. Over on the far wall, there was metal shelving – paint tins, paraphernalia collected over the years by the looks of it, oily rags, an old newspaper. In desperation, her eyes searched for something she could use as a weapon if he came at her again.
‘This is all wrong.’ Graham slapped himself around the face. He opened the garage door.
Allie shuffled away from him, as near to the wall as she could. She wanted to run for the open door but she couldn’t be sure what he’d do next. The state of mind he was in, he might just reverse the van over her. The van that she now realised had been in her street with its engine running last night as she’d got home. How long had he been watching her yesterday?
As he moved past her, he grabbed her by the hair again.
‘How dare you reject me?’ He screamed. ‘I’ll make sure you pay for what you’ve done.’
‘No, please!’ she cried.
He pushed her away and got into the van. Within seconds, he reversed it out of the garage and screeched off.
Allie was already running out of the building.
She was certain he was going for Mark.
4.20 P.M.
Allie ran outside and stopped. She was in front of a line of garages. Behind she could see a row of back gardens up a bank. They didn’t seem familiar to her. Where was she? She ran along the tarmac driveway towards the entrance gate. There would be people on the road, if not in the houses. Her bag was still in the back of the van. She needed to find a phone to use.
Her blouse flapped behind her, her bra was on show but she didn’t stop. She ran until her knees buckled and she fell to the ground, sat there gasping for air. Painful sobs escaped her. Mark would be wondering where she was. He would have rung the station. She got to her feet again.
With every step she took, she sobbed, trying not to think of Graham Stott. Images of him plunging a knife into Mark’s chest; of Mark falling to the floor; of her being too late, not being there for him as she hadn’t been there for Karen.
It was only minutes but it felt like hours. She ran through the gate and onto the pavement, remembering to pull the blouse around her middle. She hadn’t got her warrant card on her. She needed someone to trust her.
Ahead, she could see a row of houses and then a sign for a shop. In a split second, she chose to run to the shop.
The tinkling of a bell marked her arrival and she ran to the counter at the far end. A shop assistant was ringing through the goods of an elderly man at the till. She pushed past the man and, before he could protest, caught her breath enough to speak.
‘My name,’ she said through tears, ‘is Detective Sergeant Shenton. Please, I need to use a phone.’
The man’s mouth dropped open. Allie leaned on the counter to steady herself, forgetting that her blouse would drop open too.
‘Please.’ She took another breath. ‘I need to use your phone.’
‘Yes, of course.’ The shop assistant handed over a cordless handset. ‘Are you okay, duck?’
As she took the phone, Allie’s knees buckled again and she dropped to the floor. She rested her back on the counter behind her while the phone connected.
‘Nick! It’s Allie. Oh, God, you have to help me. I know
who attacked Karen and he’s just come after me –’
‘Where are you?’ Nick interrupted.
‘I’m . . .’ She gasped for breath again and looked up at the woman. ‘Where am I?’
‘You’re on Newport Lane, duck. In the Spar shop.’
‘I’m on –’
‘I heard her, Allie. Stay where you are. I’ll send someone for you and I’ll get over to the hospital.’
‘He’s going after Mark,’ she sobbed.
‘Do you know who he is?’
‘The oatcake man.’
‘The oatcake man?’
‘Graham Stott. The bloke who delivers our oatcakes.’
‘Jesus Christ! He could have been watching you for years!’
‘I don’t care about that anymore. Just don’t let me lose Mark. He’s all I have.’
‘You stay put, do you hear? I’ll get someone to you right away.’
Allie nodded into the receiver, sobbing so hard she couldn’t speak.
The woman behind the counter took the phone from her and guided her into a room at the back of the shop. She handed her a bottle of water and a white T-shirt with a bright logo splashed across it.
‘I’m not sure if you can use this but . . .’
Allie removed her tattered blouse and put the T-shirt on. Shivering with shock, she put her jacket over it. She tried to remove the top from the water bottle but her hands were shaking too much.
The woman took it from her, snapped off the seal and gave it back to her. ‘I’m Margaret,’ she told her. ‘What was your name again?’
‘Allie.’
She began to shiver uncontrollably as all sorts of thoughts rushed through her mind. What happened if Nick didn’t get to the hospital in time? Did he know which ward Karen was on? Was Mark with Karen or was he looking for her? Did Sam know where Karen was?
All she could do was sit and wait. And make another call. She dialled a number.
‘Mark!’ Tears of relief poured down her face when she heard his voice.
4.35 P.M.
‘Everyone, listen up,’ Nick grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and pulled it on as he walked towards the door. ‘I’ve just spoken to Allie. She’s okay but she was snatched by that bastard who attacked her sister.’
‘What the fuck!’ Perry stood up, reaching for his stab jacket.
‘Where is she?’ Sam followed suit.
Nick marched down the office, several officers on his tail. ‘She thinks he’s going after Mark,’ he spoke over his shoulder. ‘He’s with Karen at the hospital. We need to get up there and keep him safe.’ He turned around and walked backwards for a few steps. ‘Sam, do you know which ward Karen is on?’
‘One oh six – unless she’s been moved to ITU.’ Sam was already getting out her phone as they thundered down the stairs and out into the car park. ‘I’ll ring the ward staff, get the security set up there.’
‘I’ll do it on my way.’ Nick opened a car door. ‘Go and pick Allie up – she’s in the Spar shop on the corner of Newport Lane. Perry, come with me. Anyone else, get up to the hospital.’
4.45 P.M.
Graham drove to the front of the new hospital block, went around the mini roundabout and parked the van outside the main doors, behind an ambulance. Despite the cold weather, there were a few people huddled together. A couple walked out holding a young baby, a teenager who looked as if he would rather be anywhere else lagging behind.
‘You don’t want to leave your car, there, mate,’ a man in a wheelchair puffing on a cigarette told him. ‘It’ll get clamped.’
Graham ignored him as the automatic doors swooshed open and he went into the building. He glanced quickly into the cafe where he had spent endless hours over the past few weeks, keeping a watchful eye on his surviving angel. He followed the corridor that he’d walked along so many times that he had lost count. It had been hard not to go in to see Karen too many times but he hadn’t wanted to rouse suspicion. So sometimes he’d grabbed a newspaper and a cup of coffee, sat where he could watch the main doors for her to arrive. See Allie for a few moments while she went to see her sister. Sometimes she would be with Mark, other times alone.
He walked on until he came to the sign, ward 106, and turned left.
Sam broke the speed limit on her way to pick up Allie. As she tried to concentrate on her driving, she couldn’t believe what had happened. All that while, all those years and it was someone Allie knew? Someone they all knew. Graham Stott had visited the station at least once a week for as long as she could remember. She’d had him down as a quiet soul. How could they all have missed it?
In Newport Lane, she screeched to a halt outside the Spar shop and ran inside.
‘She’s in the back,’ the woman pointed to a door.
Sam went through quickly, her heart pounding, tears of relief pricking at her eyes when she saw her friend sitting amidst a pile of boxes, bottles of water and tomato ketchup and a stack of toilet rolls. Her left eye was half-closed and looked dreadfully painful. Everything on her face was swollen, her top lip was split and still bleeding, her hands and boots covered in mud.
‘Allie!’ She rushed to put an arm around her.
‘Sam!’ Allie burst into tears, but she scrambled to her feet. ‘We have to stop him. We have to go now.’
‘I don’t think you should go. You’re in no fit state to be of any use to anyone.’ Before Allie could protest, Sam held up a hand. ‘But I know better than to try and stop you. Come on.’
Sam thanked the assistant and manoeuvred Allie out of the shop. Carefully, she helped her into the passenger seat and then got in herself. Before starting the engine, she looked across at her.
‘Let’s go and nail this bastard once and for all.’
4.55 P.M.
The relief Mark felt once he’d spoken to Allie quickly turned to anger. Let the bastard come here for him – he’d pay for attacking Allie. He made his way quickly back to the nurses’ station to warn them and put the hospital on alert, before going to Karen’s room to see how she was. He pushed the door open. There was a man standing next to Karen’s bed. Mark gulped when he saw he was holding a knife.
‘Well if it isn’t the main man himself – at last,’ he said.
Mark glanced back along the corridor. The two nurses at the station weren’t looking his way. He had two choices. He could alert them to the danger, therefore putting Karen at risk too. Or he could go into the room and wait for the police to arrive.
What would Allie do? He wondered.
‘Hi, Graham,’ he said.
Graham seemed taken aback that he knew his name.
‘You! You spoiled it all. All she ever wanted is you. I’ve watched her. I’ve seen you together, the perfect couple, while I had to watch her,’ he pointed to Karen in the bed, ‘deteriorate year after year.’
Mark tried to stay calm, in control of the situation. He stepped forward. ‘I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind.’
‘Fire ahead. I have all the time in the world,’ Graham sniggered.
‘Why did you leave Karen like that? After you caused her all that damage, didn’t you have the guts to punch her one more time, finish her off?’
When he didn’t speak, Mark took a step forward.
‘I thought I had killed her.’ Graham’s face fell forlorn. ‘I thought she was dead.’
‘And did it hurt when she wasn’t?’
‘Come any closer and I’ll damage her!’ Graham shouted.
Mark held up his hand to pacify him, wondering if there was a way for him to alert the staff from inside the room. He glanced at the emergency button but he was too far away. He stepped closer.
‘Please, this has nothing to do with her. It’s me you’re after.’
‘I want her, too. I’ve always wanted her. Can’t you see?’
‘Graham, have some mercy. She’s at the end of her life – let her die in peace. You owe her that at least.’ He looked at Karen.
‘Not her, you stupid fuck!’ Graham roared. ‘It’s Allie I want. Karen means nothing to me. I could finish her off right now if I wanted to – I could! I do have the guts to do it. You were wrong.’ He raised the knife in the air.
‘Wait!’
Their eyes met, and suddenly Mark feared for his life. How the hell had Allie got away from this monster?
He needed to get him out of this room. If Allie wasn’t there when Karen died, it would destroy her.
He said the one thing he knew would make Graham react.
‘You can’t have Allie,’ he said. ‘She’s mine.’
‘No!’
As Graham came running at him with the knife, Mark prayed he could be as strong as his wife.
5.00 P.M.
‘What if we’re too late?’ said Allie, as Sam went full pelt along the A34 towards the hospital, sirens wailing. ‘What if he’s . . . if he’s . . .’
‘We won’t be,’ she said, slamming on her brakes as someone took longer than necessary to move out of her way. ‘No wonder he didn’t turn up with the oatcakes on his rounds this morning. He –’
Sam stopped but Allie had guessed what she was about to say. Graham Stott had probably been following her around all day, waiting for the most opportune moment to grab her. All those times she’d thought someone was watching her – could it have been him?
They were at the main entrance to the hospital. ‘There’s his van!’ she cried.
Sam switched off the sirens and killed the engine. She left the car there, much to the amusement of the man still sitting by the doors in his wheelchair.
They ran down the corridor, people moving out of their way as they heard their feet clapping on the floor. Allie caught a glimpse of herself in a window as she went past, hair flying behind her, one eye swelling, almost closed, oil on her skirt from the floor of the van and an oversized T-shirt flapping around.