Kerry laughed. ‘Sleeping like an innocent.’
‘That’s good.’ Julie yawned. ‘I shall be off to bed myself soon. It’s been a tiring day, what with one thing and another.’ Glancing at her daughter, she saw the shadows beneath her pretty eyes. ‘It wouldn’t hurt you to get an early night too.’
‘Small chance of that. I’ve got the account books to do, and on top of that I need to change the schedule of deliveries. Since I started supplying the cafés, orders are flooding in. I’ve had to take on another driver. He starts tomorrow, and I haven’t even planned his route.’ She began rummaging about in a drawer. ‘Honest to God, there’s hardly time to breathe any more.’
‘Is there anything I can do?’ Julie had been about to make her way to the lounge to curl up and watch half an hour’s television before going to bed, but Kerry seemed to be getting frantic. ‘If you tell me what you’re looking for, I might be able to help.’ Kerry had turned out every item from the drawer and piled it on the worktop.
‘It’s not here! I could have sworn I put the folder in here. I thought it would be safe until I got round to working on it.’
‘What folder?’
Kerry stuffed the papers back in the drawer. ‘Damn and bugger it! Where could I have put it?’
‘Try the desk drawer in the sitting room. You probably put it in there when you hung your jacket up.’
‘Of course!’ Rushing past her mother, Kerry went into the sitting room where she flung open the drawers one after the other, all to no avail. ‘Where the devil is it?’ she muttered. ‘I know I brought it home.’
‘Then it must be here.’ Julie curled up in the big armchair and switched on the television. The news was just about to start. She settled down, not really caring whether Kerry found the folder or not. This was her time of day, and she liked to watch the news.
‘For Christ’s sake, switch that bloody thing off, can’t you?’ said Kerry, still trying to think what she had done with her precious folder.
Julie sat up. ‘Ssh! Listen. Somebody’s been murdered, and it’s not all that far from here.’
Alarmed, Kerry swung round, her whole attention now on the TV newsreader: ‘In the early hours of this morning, two fishermen discovered the body of a man. He was found on an isolated track leading from West Bay to Bridport. According to police reports, he had been dead for two days. As yet he has not been identified. The police have mounted a murder investigation.’
‘My God!’ Julie’s voice cut across the newsreader’s. ‘Two days ago? You walked that track on Sunday, didn’t you?’
White-faced, Kerry shook her head. ‘I only went as far as the church, then I turned round and came back.’
‘All the same, I think you should tell the police. They’ll want to know if you saw anything.’
Nervous, Kerry snapped back, ‘If I’d seen anything, don’t you think I would have reported it?’
Before Julie could question her further, Kerry rushed out of the room and down the hall. ‘I must have left the folder at the office,’ she called. ‘I won’t be long. Listen out for Jack, will you, Mum?’ A moment later she was out of the house and away in the car.
Julie switched off the television. ‘What’s got into her? I only said she might have seen something.’
Shrugging, she put it out of her mind and returned to the kitchen, where she switched on the radio and tucked into a yoghurt.
Clutching his teddy bear, Jack sat by the upstairs window and watched his mother’s car drive away. Long after she had gone, he remained there, quite still, his gaze intent on the road, his thoughts on that particular night when he and his daddy had seen awful things.
After a while he turned away from the window, walked softly across the room and out through the door. On tiptoe he went along the landing and into the bathroom. Here he sat on the edge of the bath, turned the taps full on, and swung round to dangle his legs in the water, all the while holding tight to his beloved teddy bear.
When the water was ankle high, he turned off the taps and softly addressed the bear, an endearing smile on his face as he looked into those innocent brown eyes. ‘Did you hear what they were saying?’ he whispered intimately. ‘They’re always talking about the storm but they don’t know anything. It was just me and Daddy… and those other people, who played the game.’ His eyes filled with tears. ‘Nobody else knows what happened because nobody else saw. But we saw!’
Leaning over, he dipped a finger in the water. ‘It’s nice and warm now,’ he murmured. ‘Time for your bath.’
Taking the teddy by the neck, he lowered him into the water, first the nose, then the face, and now the whole head. ‘I hate Grandma! She argues all the time. Sometimes she says things that make me angry. She says Daddy’s crazy. She thinks the people were not swallowed up by the sky. But they were!’ Glancing furtively at the door, he began to tremble. ‘The sky just ate them up!’ Tears flowed down his face. ‘You remember, I told you. But I mustn’t tell them. And you mustn’t tell them either. That’s why I have to drown you in the water, so you won’t be able to tell.’
Squeezing the bear’s neck between his fingers, his voice broke into a sob. ‘I don’t want to hurt you but I’m scared they’ll lock me up too. Daddy shouldn’t have told them. He should have pretended, like I did. But I won’t tell them. I’ll never tell anybody.’ Raising his foot, he placed it squarely in the centre of the bear’s back and pressed down, flattening the bear until it splayed out on the bottom of the bath. ‘I wish I hadn’t told you now, but they kept on at me and I was frightened. Please don’t be angry. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.’
Gently he raised his foot. Staring into the water, he gazed at his teddy, watching mesmerised as it swung over to stare at him. As the ripples settled, the boy imagined the bear was opening his mouth to speak. With a cry of alarm he ran out of the room and fled along the landing.
Inside his room, he clambered into bed and lay there, hardly daring to breathe. He needed his daddy but anger suppressed the need. Daddy shouldn’t have told them! If he hadn’t told, they would not have shut him away, Grandma wouldn’t be living here, and he wouldn’t be frightened all the time. It was all his daddy’s fault.
He hated his daddy.
After parking her car, Kerry glanced nervously about. ‘She didn’t like it here after dark. Quickly she made her way to the front door of the building which was situated in one of Bridport’s back streets.
After Mike was admitted to the psychiatric unit, Kerry did her best to keep his business going but it had foundered and she had had to think again. It was her mother who had suggested she should use her natural talents and set up a catering firm. Kerry took up the suggestion and never looked back; she now employed four people and owned two delivery vans; she had a growing list of satisfied customers and quotations out on six new projects. ‘Kerry Catering’ was not a huge organisation by anyone’s standard, but it paid the bills and was expanding all the time.
She unlocked the door and entered. A cold shiver ran through her. Even in the height of summer the old stone building struck chilly, but Kerry didn’t complain because it was ideal for the preparation and storage of fresh food.
Switching on the light by the door, she crossed the floor and climbed the steps to the upper level. She went into her office and straight to her desk, and there, much to her relief, lay the missing folder. Closing her eyes, she clutched it to her chest and sighed aloud, ‘Thank God for that!’
‘Oh, it’s you!’ said a voice behind her.
Alarmed, Kerry swung round. ‘Steve!’ she cried. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you’d be home ages ago.’
Steve Palmer’s lanky frame was clothed in a boiler suit and his fair hair was covered in dust. Holding up a wrench, he explained, ‘Jason came back with a slow puncture in his front tyre. Considering the busy delivery schedule for tomorrow, I thought I’d better change it before leaving.’ Glancing at the folder in her hands, he asked, ‘Is that what you came back for? I thought
you were an intruder.’
Relaxed now, she laid the folder on the desk. ‘I thought I took it home with me. It’s got all my calculations in it for the month ahead, and now that we’ve taken on another van and driver, I need to reschedule the routes. Apart from all that, there are the figures for this new hotel contract. I’ve been working on them all day and meant to work on them tonight at home.’
He stepped closer. ‘You’ll work yourself into the ground if you’re not careful.’
‘Somebody has to do it.’
He came closer still: she could see the steely glint in his dark blue eyes. ‘Not right this minute though.’ He gave her a slow, inviting smile that melted her resolve.
Taking off her jacket, she laid it across the desk. Then came her panties and shoes, which she left on the floor. ‘That’s as much as you’re getting,’ she warned. ‘It’s too bloody cold in here to strip off.’
He smiled. ‘You came back to see me, didn’t you?’
‘Don’t flatter yourself, Steve Palmer.’ Crawling her fingers up the front of his overalls, she drew him close to pluck at the buttons. Sliding her hands up to his shoulders, she pushed the overalls back and let them drop to the floor. ‘I didn’t even know you were here,’ she confessed. ‘But since you are, I’m lonely enough to be grateful.’
Purposely, he spread her jacket out, then bent her backwards over the desk. ‘You’re cold,’ he whispered, nuzzling her neck.
‘Warm me up then.’ Opening wide her legs, she gripped his hand and guided it up under her skirt and on to her thighs, shivering with delight when his sensitive fingers found her innermost parts.
Weak for the want of him, she groped inside his trousers, making him groan with bitter-sweet agony. Taking hold of his bulging organ, she drew it out and for a time played with it until he could stand it no longer. With the urgency of a man toyed with for too long, he pushed forward and thrust himself inside her with a force that momentarily lifted her from the desk and into his arms.
Fired by the same wanton passion, she raised her legs and wrapped them tightly round his thighs, capturing him to her.
4
Alone in that quiet meadow, Rosie might have been the only person in the whole world.
Like a fairy from a tale, she sat cross-legged beneath the cherry tree. The breeze lifted her long auburn hair and the early morning skies drew her quiet, thoughtful gaze. In the beckoning light she was incredibly beautiful.
Her quiet sobs disturbed the air. ‘It’s all going wrong,’ she wept. ‘It was never meant to be this way.’
For a time, she lingered in that lovely, peaceful place, her mind going over all that had happened, and she knew what had to be done. ‘We must leave before daybreak.’ They couldn’t stay, not now.
Like a child she scrambled up and ran, barefoot, to the brook. Wading through the chilly water, she came to the opposite bank where the camper van was hidden in the spinney.
Luke was sitting on the steps, waiting for her. ‘Where have you been?’ His face was dark with anger. ‘I’ve been everywhere looking for you.’
Standing before him, hands on hips, she looked him in the eye. ‘You’re not my keeper,’ she told him in a cutting voice. ‘Eddie thought he was but now he’s dead, and I’m free of all that.’ She regretted the manner of his passing but it was no more than he deserved.
Luke remained defiant. ‘How can you be so sure it was Eddie?’
She let her gaze fall to the ground. ‘I just know.’
He smiled slyly. ‘I see.’
‘We’ll have to leave.’
‘What about the police?’ Lowering his voice, he glanced towards the lane. ‘They’re bound to come looking for us.’
Rosie smiled knowingly. ‘They can look but they’ll never find us.’
‘A hiding game, eh?’
A rush of pleasure filled her face. ‘You remember?’
‘It was always my favourite game.’
‘You mustn’t worry about them finding us.’
‘Where will we go?’
‘Anywhere… everywhere.’ Softly laughing, she embraced the countryside with a wide, extravagant gesture. ‘We’ll be as elusive as the fox.’
He laughed with her. ‘You’re mad!’
‘Maybe,’ she answered warily. ‘Sometimes.’
As daylight began to flood the skies, they started their journey.
But Rosie made a detour and halted the camper van outside the hospital.
‘Why are you stopping here?’ Luke was on edge. ‘We’ll be seen. If the police start asking questions, people are bound to remember us.’
Ignoring his protests, Rosie switched off the engine and opened the door. ‘I’ll only be a minute.’
Silently running along the pavement, she went towards the bench where she had spent many hours watching and waiting; seeing Mike’s wife come and go, wishing it could have been her.
When she sat down, the film of dew on the metal struck cold through her skirt, making her gasp. Sliding the flat of her hands beneath her buttocks, she sat forward, gently rocking, her gaze going longingly to the rows of windows in the building opposite her.
Imagining him inside, she gave a long, agonised sigh. He was in there and she was out here, separated by a wall, bricks and mortar, that was all. And yet there was a vast world between them. ‘I’m here, Mike,’ she whispered. ‘I’m right outside… still loving you, just as I’ve always done.’
Her eyes were drawn to a far room on the ground floor. The light went on, and from where she sat she could see shadowy figures moving about.
Her curiosity aroused, she got up from the seat and made her way to the other side of the road. As she ran across the lawns, she felt the dew-wet blades of grass tickling her legs, and before she reached the lighted window, the dampness had soaked through her sandals and settled beneath her toes.
Uncomfortable, she took off her sandals and silently slunk up to the wall, her small, soft fingers gripping the windowsill as she raised herself up high to peer in. What she saw sent her pulses racing.
Tousle-haired and wearing only pyjama bottoms, Mike sat on the edge of his bed; he wasn’t doing anything in particular, just sitting there, tiredly ruffling his hair and gazing at the door, as if expecting someone. When the door opened to admit a nurse, he smiled and said something which Rosie could not hear.
The nurse was carrying an oval tray containing a small brown bottle, a clear drinking glass, and a tall jug filled with what looked like water. Fresh-faced and confident, she struck envy in Rosie’s heart.
Wagging a chastising finger at Mike, the nurse went straight to the bedside table where she set down the tray. She picked up the bottle, poured a measure of the liquid into the glass and gave it to Mike. He seemed reluctant to take it. Then she picked up the small brown bottle and shook out a number of tablets into a short, plastic phial. Turning to Mike, she took hold of his hand and tipped the tablets into it. After protesting with a grimace, he raised the tablets to his mouth.
The nurse remained by his side until he had swallowed the last one. That done, she exchanged his old water jug for the fresh one, and seemed to order him into bed.
To Rosie, the nurse appeared to be taking quite a time to tuck him in beneath the sheets. Mike said something to her, and she laughed, and when he settled down to sleep, she stood over him for a time, just gazing at his face, almost like a mother watching over a child; until at long last he drifted into a deep, comfortable slumber.
And then, to Rosie’s astonishment, she did a strange thing. Leaning over him, the nurse stroked his forehead, tenderly running her fingers through his hair, smiling the whole time.
After a while her fingers moved to his chest, digging into the thick hair that grew there, lingering, wanting. Her hand moved down, towards the lower part of his body, her small, strong fingers slithering deeper, beneath his pyjama bottoms… touching him below, her face uplifted in rapture as she enjoyed his nakedness.
From her place at the window,
Rosie watched, first mesmerised and disbelieving, then wide-eyed and enraged. She was about to bang her fists on the window when the nurse caught sight of her. Filled with horror, Rosie backed away. She saw the nurse run across the room and return with a man in a white coat. When the two of them approached the window, Rosie fled.
A few moments later the main doors were flung open and the same white-coated orderly appeared. He looked up and down, but made no attempt to search for her.
The nurse joined him, and another, more senior figure. ‘What’s happening, Nurse Henshaw?’ she asked, and was told there had been intruders. Obviously with the intention of calling the police, she went smartly back inside. Nurse Henshaw dutifully followed.
The orderly remained a moment longer, staring about but seeing no one. ‘Bloody tramps!’ he muttered before he, too, went back inside. What did he care if there was a peeper? Besides, he didn’t get paid for chasing loonies.
Rosie ran across the road to the camper van and Luke. She gripped him by the arms, her eyes wild with pain. ‘Your father is in there. I’ve just seen him.’
Luke pulled away. ‘So what?’
‘Don’t you feel anything for him?’
‘No!’ His face curled with contempt. ‘When I was a kid, you told me lies. I used to cry, wishing with all my heart that he wasn’t dead. Now, I wish to God he was dead!’
Shaken by the vehemence of his outburst, it was a moment before she spoke. ‘We’d best get away from here. You drive, son,’ she told him quietly. ‘I need to think.’
The face of that nurse was etched on her mind. So, too, was the way she had smiled at Mike, pawed him when he was asleep. What else might the devil have done if she hadn’t realised someone was watching? Rosie only hoped the fright of being observed would make that nurse think twice before she did anything like that again.
Rosie turned to look back at the building. ‘I have to go now, Mike,’ she murmured, ‘but you mustn’t worry because I’ll never be far away.’ She smiled. ‘I’ll be back before you know it,’ she whispered. ‘I promise.’
Suddenly, the smile fell away and her whole body stiffened. ‘And, if you remember, my darling, I never break a promise.’
Hiding Game, The Page 4