by Anna Willett
“Jeez.” She moved forward, noticing a dip in the air temperature under the shadow of the trees. Shaking her head, she yanked the heavy limb off the road.
Chapter Two
Guy parked the Mercedes on the far side of the long-term parking area. He took his time, making sure to choose a spot away from other cars. With any luck the parking lot wouldn’t fill up while he was away. His sports car was less than six months old. The last thing he needed was some idiot putting a ding in the car’s sleek black doors and destroying the paint.
He climbed out and unloaded his gear from the boot. He hadn’t said anything to Belle, but once his career really took off he planned on buying an apartment in Sydney. Or maybe Los Angeles. The Lake Stanmore house was great, but…
He straightened his sunglasses and slung the leather carry-on over his shoulder. The place at the lake was Belle’s. Everything they owned was Belle’s. In the dusk light, he checked his reflection in the Mercedes’ tinted window. The Armani sunglasses were a good choice for travelling: the gold frames with green lenses were perfect against his tan.
He turned away from the car and headed towards the shuttle. His flight didn’t leave for another hour and a half, giving him time to grab a drink in the lounge. He considered checking in, making sure the agency woman had arrived but quickly discarded the idea. Belle would call him if there were any problems. And wasn’t she the one that said he deserved this? Damn right I deserve it.
What he needed was to relax, read over the script, and get his head in the right space. Belle understood how important this was to him; she wouldn’t want him worrying about her. It would be better for both of them if he called her from the hotel. And, after weeks of hospital visits and hanging around the house with nothing to do but wait on his wife, Guy was looking forward to focusing solely on himself.
As he cut across the parking lot his phone vibrated in his pocket. The electronic quiver sent a jolt of anxiety through his chest. It could be Belle or even Andrew, his agent. But somehow he knew it was neither. With a prickle of sweat already gathering on the back of his neck, he let go of the suitcase and pulled out the phone.
Why haven’t you called? I need you!!!
“Fuck.” He touched his fingertips to his forehead.
He hadn’t heard from Katrina in almost two days and was beginning to believe she’d given up. But she was like a nightmare that kept getting worse and all the time gathering momentum. Just when you thought the dream was over, a cold hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you back in. He’d tried reasoning with her but no matter what he said, the girl wouldn’t get the message.
The phone vibrated like an angry wasp in his hand, making him jump and almost lose grip of the thing. He cursed under his breath and read the message.
Don’t ignore me. I can’t stop thinking about you.
He had the urge to drop the phone onto the bitumen and crush it under his heel. Instead, he swiped the beads of sweat off his face with the back of his hand and deleted the messages. He shoved the phone back in his pocket and grabbed his suitcase.
As he trundled past rows of parked cars, Guy saw the shuttle bus pulling away from the stop. “Shit.” Now he’d be stuck at the stop for another ten minutes.
When he reached the bus stop, he flopped down on the metal bench. Katrina didn’t know Belle’s number and the girl had no idea where they lived. At least he hoped she didn’t. But then how hard could it be to track someone down? With his mind jumping between what ifs, Guy took off his sunglasses and shoved them in the top pocket of his jacket.
He supposed he could phone her and try to string things out for a while, but then what? She was dangerous and not just because she could go to his wife. The last time he spoke to her, the girl hinted that she was younger than she’d first told him. Something like that could ruin his career before it even started.
Guy leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. How did everything get so fucked up? He couldn’t tell Belle. Not with her still recovering from the accident and not unless he was ready to lose her. The only way forward that he could see was to keep ignoring the girl and hope she got tired of the whole thing and moved on to some other poor bastard.
The bus doors hissed open, startling him out of his reverie. Guy stood and grabbed his suitcase. Once he was seated on the shuttle, his nerves evened out and he reached a decision. He’d be in New Zealand for at least two weeks, miles away from Katrina and her crazy shit. Plenty of time for things to cool off.
He leaned back in his seat and caught sight of an aeroplane climbing into the sky. The girl was crazy, but like most nut jobs she would get distracted by something else. The best thing he could do was to sit tight and ignore her. It wasn’t much of a plan, but really, what could the girl do? Apart from a few text messages, she had no proof that anything had happened.
* * *
It wasn’t just the pain anymore. Outside the windows, the sky had almost changed from purple to black. It would be dark in a few minutes and Belle could feel the panic rising, fluttering up from her stomach like a startled moth. The dark frightened her, and the thought of being alone in the dark terrified her. She didn’t have the agency’s contact details nor did she have a number for the caregiver, Lea. How had she allowed everything to be left in such a muddled state? Because Guy said he was organising everything and I was stupid enough to believe him. There was anger now mixed with panic that formed a solid lump in her stomach.
She glanced over at the crutches. She’d practiced on them with the physiotherapist. Six steps one way, six steps back: twelve steps – the irony of the number wasn’t lost on her. With the pain in her knee and her face aching, she didn’t even want to imagine what it would be like to try hobbling around on her injured leg.
Wheeling through the house in an aimless flurry, Belle heard something that brought her to a jolting stop. A creak. It sounded like someone stepping on a board. She looked up and it occurred to her that while she was locking the back door someone could have entered through the patio doors and crept upstairs. She clamped her hand over her mouth and realised her wrist was shaking.
Was it possible that someone had been in the house with her for the last hour and a half? Scrabbling the phone out of her pocket, Belle called Guy’s number. Only half listening to the phone ringing, she kept her eyes trained on the ceiling.
“Come on, Guy.” She wasn’t sure why she was whispering. If someone had gotten in the house they’d be more than aware of her presence.
After an eternity the call connected. “Guy, it’s–”
She was cut off by a robotic voice telling her to leave a message. Hand trembling, Belle tried to think through her next move. She could call her sister, but Bethany and her husband Mark were in Bali, the first time the couple had ventured overseas since the birth of their son Jack two years ago. What good would it do worrying her sister when her sister was so far away? Why hadn’t she thought of a contingency plan before Guy left?
Her mind went back to the crutches. Her right leg was fine. If she could make her way out to the garage, she’d be able to drive the car – sort of. Once she was on the road it wouldn’t matter where she went. She could pull over somewhere and call the police.
She turned the chair so she was facing the rear of the house. The staircase was out of sight in the dining room. Chewing her thumbnail, Belle focused her attention on the archway leading towards the other room. She’d turned on the kitchen, bedroom, and sitting room light but forgotten the dining room. There had been no more sounds from upstairs. What had she really heard? A creak? Did that mean there was an intruder?
Why would someone go to the trouble of sneaking into the house just to wander around upstairs? If there was a burglar, wouldn’t he be trashing the place looking for valuables? She stopped biting her nail and clenched her fists, forcing them into her lap. She had to get herself together. There wasn’t anyone upstairs. She was just feeling vulnerable. Unable to run or defend herself, almost blind without her contact, th
ere was nothing that could hurt her, not in her own home.
But if that was true, why couldn’t she make herself move? If there was nothing to fear she’d be able to wheel through the dining room and take a look at the foot of the stairs. Her thumb was in her mouth again; this time she used her teeth to tug at the skin around the nail.
She heard a noise and twisted in the chair, frantic to track the sound. Her patched eye, like a black glove on her face, obscured her vision. It took her a few seconds to recognise the hiss of tyres on the driveway and turn the chair around.
Lights spilled through the front windows momentarily flooding the sitting room with yellow light. It had to be the caregiver. Belle pushed forward, skimming across the room and coming to a stop beside the window. Still edgy but no longer shaky, she tipped a slat on the blind. The glare from the car’s headlights was too dazzling. For a second Belle could make out little more than the shape of a vehicle before the engine cut and an outline became visible.
The outside sensor lights sprang on and the outline became an easily definable female shape. Belle let go of the blind and pulled back from the window. The panic she’d felt only a minute before was ebbing, leaving her limp with relief and a little embarrassed.
She ran a hand through her hair and straightened her top. She could feel damp patches of sweat under her arms from all the racing around. When the carer knocked, Belle took a quick sniff at her armpit. Satisfied that she didn’t smell like an old sports sock she opened the door.
After the initial greetings, Belle asked the young woman to take a seat on the couch. Sitting facing each other, there was a moment of silence.
“I’m so sorry I’m late.” Lea sat forward almost ready to topple off the couch. “There was a problem on the road… It sort of held me up for a while.”
Alone and waiting for the girl to arrive, Belle had felt an almost overwhelming sense of anger and resentment, but now with the young woman smiling and apologetic all she could do was nod. “That’s fine.” She waved a hand in the air. “It was no big deal. I’m just glad you made it safely. So what sort of trouble did you have?”
The girl’s face was blank as though confused.
“You said there was a problem on the road.” Belle didn’t want to push, but the carer was almost an hour late.
“Oh.” She gave a slight shake of her head. “Yes, sorry. There was something blocking the road and I had to stop and get out to move it. Then…” Lea hesitated, staring down at the coffee table. “Then I thought I saw someone.”
Belle’s still jumpy nerves twanged at the idea of someone lurking on the quiet roads. “Who?” She realised her voice was too loud, but the girl didn’t seem to notice.
“No one.” Lea looked up. Her blue eyes flittered between Belle’s face and the coffee table. “I mean I thought I saw someone, but it was just the shadows.” She chuckled. “I guess I’m too much of a city girl. The empty roads sort of freak me out.”
Belle felt a stab of sympathy for the young woman. It couldn’t be easy coming into a strange home and not knowing anything about the person she’d be looking after, not to mention the isolated setting. Belle of all people could understand how unsettling it could be.
“Well, don’t worry about all that now. You’re here and that’s the main thing.”
Lea nodded, but still looked a little unsure.
“Um… Do you want to take your bag up to your room? I’d come up with you...” Belle tapped the arm of her wheelchair. “But as you can see, stairs are not my friend at the moment.”
“Oh, yeah.” Lea stared at the chair as if she’d only just realised Belle was sitting on it. “No problem. Just point me in the right direction.”
Belle showed Lea through to the sitting room. Once they were at the foot of the stairs, Belle rolled to a slow stop. Looking up the steep curving stairway, Belle remembered the creaking sound that got her so worked up and wasn’t sure she wanted to send the girl up alone.
“Your bedroom’s up there.” Belle point to the steps. “It’s the first door on your right. There’s a TV in your bedroom, but you won’t get many channels out here.” Belle was stretching the moment out, trying to find a way of warning Lea before sending her up. “There’s a bathroom up there and another bedroom, but my husband uses it as a gym. There’s the laundry.” She pointed to the open doorway on the right of the stairs. “There’s extra towels and blankets in there if you need them.”
Lea picked up her small pink suitcase and headed for the stairs. “Okay, thanks.”
“Wait.”
The girl had one foot on the stairs when she stopped her.
“Look, this is a bit awkward, but...” Belle touched the back of her neck, forgetting that she no longer had long hair to fiddle with. “I thought I heard a noise up there earlier.” The last sentence came out in a rush.
Lea looked up at the ceiling. “What sort of noise?” She sounded calm and unconcerned, making Belle feel like a frightened child.
“It’s nothing, just a creaking board. Probably the house settling, but…” She trailed off, not sure how to finish the thought.
Lea looked down, meeting Belle’s gaze. “Don’t worry, Mrs Hammer. I’ll have a look around.” The girl’s voice was sombre and reassuring.
Belle listened, counting the girl’s footfalls as they grew fainter. Fourteen steps to reach the second story. A door opened, then more creaks as Lea moved around overhead. Belle cocked her head to the side and began counting. She could have pulled out her phone and timed the girl’s progress, but there was something comforting about mentally ticking off the seconds. Thirty seconds and then another door opened. She’s in the bathroom.
This time Belle only reached seven seconds before Lea was on the move again. She heard the girl open another door. Belle recognised the wheezing creak that came from the smaller room at the other side of the house. Counting off the seconds in her head, Belle waited. She made it as far as forty before a soft thud halted her progress.
“Lea?” Belle pulled closer to the stairs. “Is everything okay?” Her voice echoed up the wooden staircase. When there was no response she tried again. “Lea, what’s going on up there?” She could hear fear creeping into her voice.
Chapter Three
After a few seconds with no answer, Belle ran a hand over her mouth and looked around the dining room as though hoping help would appear. Her gaze landed on the patio doors, the glass blank like frozen ice on a black pond. Had someone come in through the door after Guy left?
She shouldn’t have let the girl go up there alone. What was she thinking? “Lea?” Half out of her chair, balancing on one foot, she was close to screaming.
“Yes?” The girl’s head appeared around the curve at the top of the stairs, suggesting she was on her way down and stooped to answer.
Belle staggered to the right, her good leg almost collapsing under her weight. A flood of darkness clouded her eye and the dining room tilted.
“Mrs Hammer.” Lea’s arm was under Belle’s. Supporting her with surprising strength, the girl helped Belle back into the chair. “Are you okay?”
Dark blue eyes swam in front of Belle’s face. She opened her mouth to answer, but couldn’t catch her breath. Instead, she shook her head, struggling to hold back the tears that were twisting the back of her throat.
“It’s okay.” Lea was behind her, pushing the chair. She thought of asking where she was taking her, but the effort of speaking seemed too much.
“Now.” Lea parked the chair next to the couch. “I’m going to help you onto the couch and then make you a cup of tea. Have you eaten?” Before Belle had a chance to answer, the girl slipped her arms under Belle’s and was pulling her out of the chair.
The lift was awkward. At one point too much weight landed on Belle’s left leg and she cried out in pain and surprise. “There you are,” Lea said as she plopped her onto the couch.
Without waiting to be asked she took hold of Belle’s ankles and swung them up, turning her side
ways. “Now you just stay there and I’ll sort you out something to eat.”
Leg pulsing and head aching, Belle slumped back on the couch and watched Lea disappear through the archway. Belle didn’t want tea; she wanted her pills. She wanted the endless day to end. But most of all she wanted a drink.
It had been just over a year since her last drink. Almost thirteen months. Long arduous months. At the beginning each day felt like a marathon of craving and denial. Wanting a drink, but telling herself she wasn’t an alcoholic. Alcoholics were incapable of work, unable to function and maintain relationships. She wasn’t one of those people. Belle was a successful author and happily married. She drank, that’s all. No big deal.
But then the denial would turn into panic when her brain and suddenly her body were screaming for a drink, her mind rationalising the need for alcohol. I work hard. It helps me unwind. I just need something to take the edge off. Then back to a state of panic where she couldn’t hide from the truth. The torturous cycle all before noon left her physically exhausted and irritable to the point of rage.
“Here you go.” Lea set down the tray with enough force to rattle the cups. “I’ve made us some toasted sandwiches and tea.”
She put a plate on Belle’s lap then settled herself in the armchair. One leg tucked under her, she bit into her sandwich. Belle looked down at the toasted bread but didn’t pick it up.
“Thanks for the food, but I really should have my tablets. I was supposed to take them almost two hours ago and… Well, my leg hurts.”
Lea’s expression remained unchanged as she chewed and swallowed. For a moment it seemed she wasn’t going to answer. “It’s after eight.” She spoke around a mouthful of food. “Better for you to eat first then you can have your medication and go to bed.”
Belle frowned. There was a flat certainty in the girl’s voice that suggested the topic wasn’t up for discussion. Belle felt a tingle of irritation. The caregiver was here to assist her, not set out a routine. But if she argued with the girl, things might get uncomfortable. Did she really want to cause a problem on the first night? And, what if Lea decided she didn’t like Belle’s attitude and left? The idea of spending the night alone was more daunting than enduring another ten minutes of pain.