The Girls in the Woods

by Helen Phifer

  ‘Oh my God, is that the time? I’ve been ages. He’ll kill me.’

  She stood up and pulled a ten pound note out of her pocket. Annie waved her hand at her.

  ‘Put that away – you can pay next time. I was the one who dragged you in here. I hope I haven’t caused you any trouble at home?’

  Jo looked at her and opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it and closed it again.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  Annie nodded.

  ‘I’m positive. Take care, Jo. Oh, do you have a business card?’

  Jo passed her a crumpled one from the bottom of her handbag.

  ‘Thanks, Annie, I will. You look after the both of you.’

  Annie watched her scurry from the café back in the direction of the village hall and the army of police officers; once she made it past them she would have to face her bully of a husband. Annie wanted to ask her if she was okay and how bad it was at home, but she couldn’t. She knew from past experience Jo would deny anything was wrong. Women like her always did and that included herself – how many times had she gone to work wearing enough make-up to cover the bruises, the long-sleeved tops in the summer. It all seemed as if it was in another lifetime, not three years ago.

  She would try and broach the subject with Jo, just to let her know that she got it. She understood the pain and embarrassment, the living in constant fear – it was no way to live. Annie also made up her mind to visit Jo’s husband to see what he was like. She would go while she was already in the village. She hadn’t bothered asking Jo if she could go back with her because she hadn’t wanted to put her in a difficult position. But if she turned up unannounced then Jo wouldn’t get in trouble with her husband, fingers crossed. Annie already had an image of him in her mind and she bet it wouldn’t be far wrong. She had no intention of paying him to photograph her, though; the thought of him looking at her naked stomach made her skin crawl, but she did want to know more about him so she could pass it on to Will. She went to the counter and paid the bill, then decided to have a wander around. As she walked outside she bumped straight into Sam, who was talking to an old woman. Sam grinned at her and Annie smiled back; no doubt she would catch up with all her friends over the next few days. A familiar car drove into the village. Inspector Cathy Hayes was her boss and friend so Annie waited for her to park up then began to walk towards the car. She reached the car and leant inside the window.

  ‘If it isn’t Annie Ashworth in the flesh – I was thinking about you this morning. I just said to Kav that we all needed a catch-up. How are you?’

  ‘Fed up. I can’t stand being at home doing nothing. There are only so many times you can hoover in one day. It’s funny you should say that about a catch-up because I was saying the same to Will. How’s my favourite sergeant doing. I hope you’re not wearing him out?’

  ‘As if. That man has found a new lease of life since he’s had the pleasure of my company. He’s like a lovesick teenager with a permanent erection.’

  Annie laughed so loud a group of tourists turned to look at her.

  ‘You’re awful. Talk about lowering the tone. That’s just far too much information – you know he’s like my dad, don’t you. How about you?’

  ‘Me, I’m fabulous, thank you. I forgot how good it was to have a big, strong man to keep you warm at night and put the bins out every Wednesday morning.’

  ‘Do you and Kav want to come for tea on Saturday night if you’re not working? I was going to ask Jake and Alex as well.’

  ‘Are you cooking?’

  Annie began to chuckle.

  ‘Definitely not.’

  ‘In that case we’d love to. It’s our weekend off. Jake is on a late but I’ll change his shift when I get back to the station. Aw, it will be like a reunion – you haven’t got any bad news to tell us, have you? Because I could get used to this, having a quiet life. I haven’t had heartburn for ages or any blinding headaches since you’ve been off sick.’

  ‘Nope, I just miss you all.’

  ‘Bloody hell, are you ill? I think this pregnancy lark is messing with your brainwaves. But thanks, Annie, I’m looking forward to it already.’

  She got out of the car.

  ‘I see the tosser is already here.’ Cathy’s head moved in the direction of her ex husband’s navy blue Range Rover parked across the street.

  ‘No show without fucking punch is there. I bet he’s sat around drinking coffee and chatting shit – that is about the limit of his usefulness – in fact it always was. He’s never been much good for anything.’

  Annie shrugged.

  ‘I can’t help you with that one but I suspect you’re right. See you at six on Saturday, and you can both stop over if you want then you can have a bottle or two of wine and not have to worry about driving home.’

  Cathy stuck her thumb up at her, then began to answer a call on her radio with a ‘You have to be fucking kidding me’. Annie smiled to herself. Cathy never changed. She walked in the direction of the house on the front of the card that Jo had given to her. She wanted to make sure her new-found friend was all right and she also wanted to meet her husband – and make an appointment that she wouldn’t keep, just to see what he was like.

  Chapter 14

  Tilly got off the bus and the first person she saw was her Aunty Annie walking along the opposite side of the street just past the bus stop. Her heart racing, she went into the whitewashed public toilets to wait for a few minutes until she was out of sight. Of all the times for her to bump into her, now was not a good one. She never bumped into her in Barrow town centre, which was far busier. This was just her luck. Annie would want to know why she was here in Hawkshead instead of in Bowness and she didn’t want to have to explain it all to her, even though she knew that Annie was far more accepting and not judgemental like her mum. But what if she offered to go with her for the photoshoot? She would be mortified. Posing was something she did in front of the mirror in her bedroom on her own. It would be bad enough having a complete stranger taking the pictures, never mind Annie sitting on a chair watching her – she’d die of embarrassment. After five minutes she stuck her head out of the entrance to the toilets; there were an awful lot of police cars and coppers wandering around and she wondered what had happened. Typical – any other day this place was probably dead to the world, but not today, when all she wanted to do was go and have her photos taken then get back home without anyone being any the wiser.

  She had already typed the address into Google maps so she wouldn’t get lost; she put her headphones in, took her sunglasses from her oversize bag and put them on. As she reached the village hall she saw Annie bending down speaking to someone in a car. Scurrying past as fast as she could she followed the directions that the voice in her ear was telling her. She reached the cream-coloured cottage and walked around to the side where he’d told her the entrance to his studio was. She looked around. There was a copper standing some distance away in the woods at the back of the cottage but they had their back to her. She walked up to the brown wooden door and lifted her hand to knock but it opened before she had the chance. The man standing there smiled and she felt all the anxieties she’d had about this melt away. He wasn’t very old – maybe in his late thirties, early forties – and wasn’t bad looking. He was a big bloke, but he didn’t look like a pervert. She had expected him to be in his fifties with grey hair and big thick glasses.

  ‘Come in. That was good timing, wasn’t it? I was just going to nip to the village shop for a bottle of wine for later, but I can go after.’

  ‘Oh don’t let me stop you. I don’t mind waiting.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m not desperate – I’ve already got some but was just going to get another bottle in case I needed it.’

  ‘Is that in case I’m terrible and you need to blot it all out, drown your sorrows?’

  He laughed and took hold of her arm, leading her into the studio.

  ‘No way. I think you are going to be a compl
ete natural at this. You’re so pretty, it will be the easiest session I’ve had all month.’

  Tilly felt a burning sensation begin to creep up her neck; she liked him, he seemed very kind. She’d always wondered what it would be like to go out with an older man. She hated the boys her age – they were so immature. Annie had met Will, and Tilly had been gobsmacked the first time she’d set eyes on him because he was so good looking. In fact, the first few times she’d met him she’d had to excuse herself because her cheeks would turn bright red and it was wrong to fancy your auntie’s boyfriend… but he was so cute. She’d managed to cure herself of that little crush when she’d seen how happy Annie was – how happy Will made her. She didn’t know all the details but she knew that Mike, Annie’s first husband, had hurt her a lot and she deserved to be happy. Snapping herself out of her daydream she smiled at him.

  ‘Sorry, I hope so. I’m so nervous about this, you wouldn’t believe it.’

  ‘You have nothing to be nervous about. I promise you will love it. Now, should we take some shots of you just as you are, so that you don’t feel uncomfortable and let you get used to the camera? Then we can progress from there?’

  He walked away, shrugging off his jacket which he slung over a chair, then he picked up a camera which was on the long bench at the back of the studio in front of a full-length mirror and turned towards her.

  ‘Now if you just stand in front of that screen we’ll do some test shots.’

  Tilly felt sick as he led her across the room to the huge white screen. She was so embarrassed – what if she looked like a whale on the pictures. What if he thought she was a complete freak? She smiled at him and, feeling stupid, let him walk around her snapping pictures. After five minutes he stopped.

  ‘I’ll take a look at these and we’ll go from there. You know you don’t have to be so nervous. I promise I won’t bite.’

  ‘Sorry, I just feel so stupid.’

  He smiled at her.

  ‘I understand – most people do, but you’ll get used to it. How about a nice cold glass of wine to put you at ease? It works wonders; obviously only the one because it’s no good if a model is too drunk. It makes them harder to photograph if they can’t stand still and are falling all over the place – but just a small one might help you feel a little bit better. Or I have vodka if you prefer?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t really drink wine, to be honest; I don’t like the taste. Maybe a small vodka, if that’s okay?’

  He grinned.

  ‘Of course it is. You won’t get the best shots if you’re too wound up like a coiled spring. You need to be relaxed. You wouldn’t believe how many bottles of vodka I’ve gone through this year.’

  He opened a small fridge and pulled a bottle of vodka from out of the freezer compartment; she recognised the bottle straight away – it was the really expensive one that was so strong you only needed a couple of shots before you were drunk. She watched him pour out two shot glasses and carry them over, handing one to her.

  ‘I will if you do, how about that. Although I can only have one – I don’t want to take any fuzzy photos of you.’

  He winked and she took the glass from him. Before she could think about it he downed his and coughed.

  ‘Gets me every time.’

  She laughed – following his lead, she threw her head back, swallowing it in one. It burnt the back of her throat and she also began coughing. Her eyes began to water and she felt his warm hands begin to pat her back.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  She couldn’t speak but stuck her thumb up.

  ‘I’ll give you a couple of minutes whilst I check these and get my other camera, then we’ll try again.’

  He walked out, leaving her alone. She hadn’t noticed the drops of liquid that he’d slipped into her glass. He knew this was far too risky, but he couldn’t help himself. No one knew she was here – even the police hadn’t noticed her coming, because he’d been watching her from the upstairs bedroom window. The whole time, the officer out the back hadn’t turned around once. This time he wouldn’t be burying her out in the woods because that was too dangerous, but he did have his morgue fridges in the garage which were perfect. Once she was dead he could put her into one of them until he was ready to take his photos for his special album – and the beauty of it was he could keep on doing it again and again as long as he kept the heating off in the studio and didn’t keep her body out for too long.

  Tilly began to feel light-headed. The room began to swim and she stumbled to her bag to pull out the bottle of water she had in there and her phone. She didn’t feel well at all. There was no way one shot of vodka would do this to her – she was used to drinking it, although normally only the cheap stuff from the corner shop. Trying to sit on the stool to steady herself she completely misjudged it and slid to the floor. Her mind wasn’t working like it should and she felt as if her head was disconnected from her body. The thought that he’d drugged her screamed into her brain, but she didn’t want to believe it. Why would he want to drug her? He was so nice. She began to press the buttons on her phone, trying to find Annie’s number. Annie would know what to do, but Tilly couldn’t see the screen – everything was blurred. Holding the home button down she tried to speak into it, ‘Phonnnne Argnie.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t get that, Tilly.’

  She tried her best to speak clearly but her tongue felt as if it was far too thick for her mouth and was sticking to the roof of it. ‘Call Annnie…’

  ‘Calling Annie.’

  And then the room went black.

  He got his camera from the garage and went back in to see her slumped on the floor. Her eyes were unfocused but she had her phone in her hand. His heart began to race; fuck, had she had time to phone for help? Snatching the phone he saw that she had indeed called someone called Annie, but there had been no answer. He couldn’t think what to do first. He needed to get rid of the phone, but where? Not in the village, because the police would be able to trace it. It was an iPhone so it probably had that ‘find my iPhone’ app on it. He turned the phone off and slid it into his pocket; she had mentioned that her family thought she was going to Bowness. He needed to dump it in Bowness somewhere, now – before anyone noticed she was missing. His heart was beating so fast he thought he might be on the verge of a heart attack. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Shit. He didn’t have time to do anything with her now; instead he grabbed hold of her arms and dragged her from the studio out into the workshop where his darkroom was. Taking a rag from the bench he tied it around her mouth as tight as it would go and then he took some of the washing line he had used on the others to tie her hands and feet together. He didn’t care if she suffocated, it would save him the job, but he needed her to be secure until he’d disposed of her phone and whilst the village was flooded with coppers. This would give him some much-needed time to figure out what he was going to do. When his head was thinking straight he could decide how long he was going to keep her for. He pressed two fingers to her neck; she still had a strong pulse. Turning off the light he shut the door and locked it, then dragged a heavy bench over just in case she managed to escape somehow.

  ‘Heath, sorry to bother you, but are you busy? There’s someone here who would like a word.’

  Her voice called through the studio door and his heart sank to the bottom of his shoes. Who the hell wanted a word? If it that was smarmy copper he’d be fucked.

  ‘Be out in a minute.’

  He knew that his voice sounded different. It had almost quivered when he’d spoken. The sweat was pouring from him and he ran across to the sink and splashed handfuls of cold water all over his face, hands and hair. He checked the door to the darkroom, then turned the light off in the workshop and locked the door behind him. Her phone felt like a brick in his pocket and he couldn’t wait to get rid of it. As he walked into the kitchen he saw a heavily pregnant woman sitting on one of the chairs sipping from a glass of water.

  ‘This is Annie. She l
ives in the village on the opposite side of the woods, and would like to have her baby bump photographed. I told her how good you were at taking photos, but she knows that you’re also very busy.’

  Heath was furious with Jo for bringing this woman into their kitchen unannounced. Annie? That was twice he’d heard that name in fifteen minutes, but if she lived in the village surely she wouldn’t know the teenager he’d drugged up who was from Barrow. It must be a coincidence. What was wrong with Jo? At least she was trying to fob her off, but he would need to show her what a huge mistake she’d made later on – after he’d disposed of the phone in his pocket.

  He forced himself to smile at Annie.

  ‘No problem – I do lots of them. When were you thinking of getting it done, and do you want like a family portrait or just you?’

  He was trying his best to talk normally but his hands were shaking and he couldn’t stop the fine film of sweat that was forming on his forehead. He was so hot, it felt as if the phone in his pocket was burning his leg off. Yet he’d turned it off. He didn’t understand what was wrong with him.

  ‘Just whenever you can fit me in, and to be honest I’m not too sure – I haven’t thought about it a lot.’

  ‘Well, have a think and let Jo know – I’m really booked up at the moment, but I’ll see if we can sort something out. I need to go into Barrow for some bits. Do you need anything, Jo?’