by Mel Sherratt
It had often been a bone of contention between Eden and Casey as fashions had come and gone that Eden remained firmly in the 1960s, with tight-legged trousers, pinafore dresses and short skirts that she wore with opaque tights and knee-length boots. At work it was cropped fitted jackets with thin lapels and large-collared blouses. She remembered Casey being mortified when the sixties had come back into fashion for her own age group last year, although not so much when she realised she could fit into her mother’s clothes and borrow them all.
Now Eden’s hair was short, giving her the look of a younger Twiggy, and the nickname to go with it, and even though she had gained no more than a few kilos since then, it was enough to make a difference to how she felt, if not how she looked. She couldn’t do anything about the body that had started to sag through age, despite her attempts at keeping it fit and healthy, nor the lines that were appearing around her eyes. And she’d need glasses soon too, although she wouldn’t admit that to anyone.
So much had happened during the past nine years that she preferred to forget about much of that too.
She checked the clock on the wall again. She’d been on shift for near on twelve hours. The office was emptying around her. Stuff the paperwork. It was time she headed home. Joe was coming over at eight.
Now that she was looking forward to.
Chapter Seventeen
Stacey Goodwin walked along the pathway by the side of Theodore House. She was meeting her friend, Claire, at half past six but was already ten minutes late. She braced herself as the wind almost blew her off her feet again, and wondered if they should go over to Cayden’s house and hang out with him and Jess. She knew Cayden wouldn’t like it, and maybe Jess would want time alone with him, but it was freezing out here, and she didn’t fancy walking around the streets.
As she walked, she scrolled through her messages until she found her conversation with Ahmed. They’d exchanged numbers last week and had been sending texts ever since. There had been the odd photo between them, some Snapchats and lots of texts.
Ahmed made her laugh. She’d known him for ages from school but only recently begun to fancy him. He had a dry sense of humour, and she’d often crease up with laughter as he was daring enough to take on a teacher, giving out lip. Yesterday, she’d got into trouble with him as they had sat together and sniggered through double maths. Honestly, she’d only had to look at him and she’d got the giggles. Eventually, they’d been sent out of the class and had ended up with detention.
She grinned widely, already wishing her life away as she wanted it to be Monday. She and Ahmed were going on their first date. He was taking her to Cineworld. She’d been planning what to wear and had been hoping to discuss it with her friends that night.
She was only a few feet along the path when she was seized from behind. She cried out, but it was carried away on the wind. Then a hand was over her mouth. Another hand snaked around her waist.
Pulled into the bushes, she landed on her knees with a smack. A handful of her hair was grabbed, forcing her face upwards. Someone else appeared and a strip of duct tape was pressed across her lips.
Fear coursed through her, and she tried to kick out. She wondered if anyone would be looking out from the flats. They were all a bunch of nosy gits on the ground floor, all the old-and-wrinklies. Maybe one of them had seen her being dragged out of sight and had alerted the police. But they wouldn’t get here in time. They were going to rape her, and no one could hear her as she couldn’t scream.
Tears stung her eyes as they flitted from one figure to the other, trying to take in as much detail as she could. One man stood at her side, the other in front of her. They were both tall and of average build, wearing dark clothes and balaclavas, black gloves.
Without saying a word, one pressed his hands on her shoulders, holding her down. His feet were either side of her legs so she was unable to move.
The other man squatted beside her. She looked down, eyes widening as she saw he had a large tin of paint.
What the hell. . .? Surely he wasn’t going to. . .
He prised off the lid with a small knife, and she began to whimper. She tried to claw at the man behind her, who kept a firm grip on her shoulders.
The man in front held up the can. She groaned loudly, squeezing her eyes shut as he tipped the contents over her head. The liquid dripped down over her hair, her clothes, down onto her knees, puddling in-between her legs on the grass. The fumes began to sting her eyes.
She heard laughter; it sounded male. And then a phone clicking as it took photos.
And then suddenly she was pushed forward as the man behind her let go. She fell face first in the grass.
She stayed still for a moment, hoping they wouldn’t begin to kick her while she was down. Her body tensed against the onslaught she imagined would be next. But there was nothing but the noise of the wind and rain.
She wiped at her fringe, taking most of the paint with it away from her face. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she sat up. Looking around from side to side to see where the men were, it took her a few seconds to realise they had gone.
Stacey pulled the tape from her mouth and gasped as she took in air. Quickly she wiped at her face with the sleeves of her coat. The liquid mingled with tears and snot, running down her face. She wiped at her neck, her hands covered in the stuff now.
They had pushed something into her pocket. She reached inside, and her paint-covered fingers clasped something. It was a piece of lined paper folded in half, the kind found in any notebook. Thick black felt-tip writing in uneven capitals.
KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT.
Her hands shook as she read the words. Keep her mouth shut about what? As far as she knew, she hadn’t done anything wrong lately. Was this to do with the trial next week, or something else?
But suddenly she didn’t care. She stood up, staggering forward, and then she began to run, sobbing with every step. There was no one on the path, no one in the car park as she ran through the stormy weather.
She didn’t even care that Claire would be waiting for her. All she wanted was to be back home again before anything else happened to her.
Chapter Eighteen
Eden was listening to the radio while driving home, her fingers tapping to the beat of the song. Yes, she hadn’t done everything she had intended to do today, but it had been a good one all the same. Nothing drastic had happened. The residents of Stockleigh had behaved themselves, for the most part.
In her line of work, everything could change with one phone call and they were very fortunate if they ever got time to catch up. So even if she had a pile of paperwork on her desk, she could live with that.
The weather was so miserable that there weren’t too many people about. But a flash of white caught her eye as someone dashed along the pavement to her right. She frowned and, indicating quickly, pulled over to the kerb and parked up.
The girl was a few metres behind her. Her jacket was ruined, her long hair covered in white paint, which had dripped onto her jeans, and there was a huge stain on both thighs. Her boots had paint splashes on them too. As she drew nearer, Eden recognised her.
‘Stacey?’ she said. ‘Stacey, what’s happened?’
The girl stopped, taking a breath between sobs. ‘They covered me in paint,’ she cried, shaking uncontrollably as Eden held on to her arm.
‘Who did?’
‘I don’t know,’ Stacey gasped. ‘There were two of them and they were in dark clothes and balaclavas and they poured the paint over me, and it will never come off, and it’s stinging my eyes. What am I—’
‘Slow down, Stacey.’ Eden tried to calm her down. ‘It’s okay. You’re safe now.’
‘But look at me! I’m such a mess.’
‘I know but it can all be sorted. Where do you live?’
‘29, Hardman Road.’
Eden blew out her breath. It would only take a matter of minutes to get the girl home. She couldn’t leave her on the street like this.
&nb
sp; She took an elbow that was paint-free and ushered Stacey towards her car. ‘Come on, I’ll give you a lift.’
Eden opened the boot of her car and searched around until she found what she was looking for. Next to a box of latex gloves and a roll of crime scene tape was a pile of black bin liners. She swiftly covered the passenger seat and the foot well of the car with them. Before Stacey got in, she handed her a handful of paper towels from a box. ‘Wipe your face but be careful not to splash the paint into your eyes.’
She started the engine and got back into the traffic. ‘Do you know who did this to you, Stacey?’ she asked.
‘No,’ Stacey replied.
‘Do you know why someone would do this to you then?’
‘No. They just jumped me.’
‘Where were you?’
‘On the pathway through from Theodore House. I was going to meet Claire, my friend.’
‘And then what happened?’
‘Someone grabbed me and dragged me behind the hedge.’
‘And you didn’t see who it was?’ Eden had one eye on the road and one eye on the girl.
‘I told you, I don’t know!’ Stacey burst into tears.
‘Okay, let’s get you home.’
Eden said nothing else until she pulled up outside Stacey’s house. ‘I’ll take you in and call for an officer to take a statement,’ she said then.
‘No!’ Stacey almost shrank in the seat. ‘I’ll be okay. Please, just leave me here.’
‘I’ll do nothing of the sort.’ Eden removed her seat belt. ‘Come on, it won’t take me a minute.’
Eden raced round to the passenger seat to help her out.
‘My eyes are stinging,’ said Stacey, as she helped her up the path.
‘Let’s get you inside. Do you have a key?’ Not waiting for a response, Eden rapped on the front door anyway.
A woman opened the door and came rushing at them. ‘Stacey! What on earth happened?’
‘Mum!’ Stacey burst into tears.
‘I found her running along the high street,’ Eden explained. ‘It seems someone has played a practical joke on her, but she won’t say who.’
‘Come through to the kitchen,’ Sandra beckoned Stacey, ‘and be mindful of the rug. Keep to the laminate flooring. I can remove the paint from that.’
Eden followed them into the house as Stacey began to cry harder.
‘Who did this to you?’ Sandra asked.
‘I don’t know. I didn’t see.’
‘You didn’t notice anything about them?’ Eden pressed. ‘Were they tall, small? Were they male or female?’
‘I don’t know, and I’d rather not think about it now. I want to go and have a shower.’
‘I’d rather you chat to me about this first, see if we can get some details,’ said Eden.
‘No, you’ll just make things worse!’ Stacey turned and raced to the bottom of the stairs.
‘Stacey, wait!’ Sandra shouted after her. ‘You’re covered in paint!’
But Stacey had disappeared, slamming a door upstairs as she hid away.
Sandra raised her hands in the air and then down again. ‘Teenagers. I never know what’s going on with her nowadays.’ She tutted. ‘I hope that paint comes out of the carpet.’
Eden nodded in response. ‘I’ll leave you to it. Perhaps I can get someone to come and see you in the morning? That’s if Stacey, or yourself, wants us to.’
Sandra nodded back. ‘Maybe she’ll be calm enough to answer some questions then. Thanks for bringing her home.’
Eden left the house and went back to her car. She sighed as she restarted the engine. Well, the day had ended far better for some than for others.
Chapter Nineteen
Cayden had arrived at the hospital in an ambulance and been placed in the corridor along with three other emergency admissions because A&E was full to capacity. The woman beside him continually sobbed, clutching her stomach. She’d been attached to a drip, but she kept throwing up every few minutes. An elderly man coughed and spluttered on the other side.
After forty minutes, he’d been wheeled into a bay. It was relatively quiet in there, and he relaxed after being seen by the assessment nurse, while he waited for the doctor to come. Already his right eye had swollen so much that he couldn’t see out of it, and his ribs hurt like hell. He put up his hand. Two fingers had been strapped together with bandaging.
His phone was in his jacket, which had been placed on the chair at the side of the trolley bed. He wanted to see what damage had been done to his face. He sat up but before he could get it, a man pulled aside the curtain.
‘Hi Cayden, I’m Dr Alexander – Jack to my friends – and I like the look of you.’ His smile was as friendly as his eyes. ‘I can see I can’t shake your hand because it’s bandaged up, and I won’t ask what I can do for you, because I can already see that too. You’ve a nasty cut above your eye that’s going to need stitches.’ He reached for some latex gloves and examined Cayden’s nose for a few seconds.
‘Ow, watch out there!’ Cayden moved away from his touch.
‘I don’t think it’s broken, but your eyes are blackening rapidly. I’ll get that X-rayed, along with your chest and your hand. You say he kicked you in the stomach?’
Cayden nodded, and then winced as it caused a sharp pain to drive into the back of his eyes.
‘Nasty piece of work. Did you know him?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘You don’t remember anything about him?’
‘I was hit on the back of my legs and went down on the path,’ said Cayden as Jack examined his eyes. ‘I turned round and saw someone behind me and then. . . nothing.’
‘Recalling some of it is good.’
‘Will anything else come back to me?’
‘It’s difficult to say. Even if you have no injuries to stop you, your brain might not want you to. You’ll be in shock too.’ Jack moved towards the end of the bed and drew open the curtain. ‘I’ll be back to you once X-rays are done.’
Cayden threw his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself upright. Groggily, he sat for a few seconds before standing up. He reached inside the pocket of his jacket for his phone. He had to call Jess. Although he doubted she would still be waiting for him, he wanted to speak to her, needed to let her know what had happened.
When there was no reply, it took him a while but he texted her with his uninjured hand.
Been beaten up. Am in A&E. Okay but can you come? C x
A message came back almost immediately.
Oh no. I waited, I called you. I’m on my way. J x
Cayden jabbed a finger to connect to Jess’s phone, wondering why she had sent a text message rather than ring him straight back. The call rang out and then went to voicemail. He frowned, wincing again. Turning the camera round on his phone, he gasped. His face was a riot of swelling, blood and bruising. His nose definitely looked as if it was broken.
The curtain was drawn back. It was a nurse this time. She sighed as she saw him standing up.
‘Come on, up on this bed,’ she chastised, patting the mattress.
‘Can you give me something for the pain?’ he asked, sitting on it again.
‘Let me see what the doctor says. He might want you to have the X-rays first.’
‘But I can’t stand it.’
‘I can get you something for now. Do you feel sick at all?’
‘A little. How long will I have to stay here for?’
The nurse pushed him gently back to lying. ‘We’ll need to monitor you for a while. You’ve had quite a beating there, and I think—’
‘Cayden!’ Andrea Blackwell came charging into the cubicle. ‘Oh, look what he did to you! Did you see who it was?’
‘Mum.’ Cayden sat up as she held him. He burst into tears, all the stress of the last couple of hours, being on his own, the pain and the fear, finally released. Although his head was pounding, he felt comforted by his mother’s arms.
Yet he couldn
’t tell her the real reason he was feeling so stressed. He needed to catch up with Jess and find out why her phone was ringing out. He hoped it was because she had taken the huff with him, thinking he had stood her up.
When he’d seen Travis earlier, there had been no indication that this would happen. As far as he was aware, hurting him hadn’t been part of the overall plan. Nor was anything supposed to be happening to Jess, so he hoped she was okay.
But what was disturbing him most was if it wasn’t part of the plan that he knew about, was it one of the Barker brothers who had attacked him – or someone else?
And if it wasn’t one of the Barker brothers, then who could it have been?
Chapter Twenty
Laura had just sat down with another coffee when her phone beeped in a message.
Hi Mum. Staying at Stacey’s tonight. See you tomorrow, be back around ten. Love you. Jx
She sighed loudly and rang Jess, but the call was diverted to voicemail. She began to tap out a reply to the message.
‘What’s up?’ asked Nicola, her eyes glued to the screen as she updated her notes.
‘Jess says she’s staying over at Stacey’s house. I specifically told her to be in by eleven because I thought she was staying in with Cayden. I bet they’ve had a tiff and she’s stormed off. I’ve tried to call her back but it’s gone to voicemail.’
‘She takes advantage of you,’ said Nicola, eyes still on the screen.
‘She does not!’ Laura’s tone was sharp.
Nicola popped her head over the top of the monitor. ‘I’m winding you up! She’s sixteen, she’s bound to change her mind too often and go against your wishes. It’s her prerogative.’
‘She’s just playing on my good nature, thinking I won’t mind if she stays out.’
‘Well, it isn’t a school night.’