The afternoon passed slowly. All was quiet downstairs, though she could still hear the sound of the animals close by and occasionally a dog barked almost below her window. It must have been around five o’clock that Mel appeared again, this time with a plate of cheese sandwiches and a mug of tea. Jane had planned to ask her some more questions, but Mel perhaps guessed this, because after depositing the tea and sandwiches, she collected Jane’s plate and cutlery from lunchtime and disappeared quickly.
Jane did not want anything to eat. The lack of activity was making her lose her appetite. She only managed to eat half of the sandwiches and, conscious of the primitive toilet arrangements, she only drank half the tea.
The evening passed even more slowly than the afternoon. Jane could hear the sound of a television. Despite her predicament she dozed several times. The light was already fading when Mel appeared again bearing a mug of cocoa. She looked at the half-eaten plate of sandwiches.
‘Off our food, are we?’ she asked.
‘I’m not used to being a prisoner,’ remarked Jane sarcastically.
Mel made no reply.
Jane was determined to ask her some more questions.
‘What is going to happen to me?’ she asked.
Mel looked at her. Her face was quite serious. ‘It’s better that you don’t know,’ she replied.
‘But why?’ Jane pleaded.
‘It’s just better, that’s all.’
Even more worried by Mel’s reply, Jane could see that she was not going to make any headway on that subject. She tried a different tack.
‘How long are you going to keep me here?’
Mel was non-committal. ‘A few days, I guess. Perhaps a week.’
Jane suddenly thought of another question that had been coming into her worried thinking.
‘What did you do with Bob – my fiancé?’
Mel grinned at her. ‘He’s quite safe and sound.’
Jane hardly dared ask her next question. ‘Are you holding him prisoner as well?’
Mel shook her head. ‘You were the one we wanted.’
Jane wanted to continue questioning Mel, but Mel suddenly ended the conversation.
‘You’re asking too many questions. It’s not good for you,’ she snapped.
With that Mel left the room again. As she closed the door she spoke to Jane in an almost friendly way. ‘Sleep well,’ she cooed.
Jane could have wept. Mel’s final words had almost been like a doting mother saying goodnight to a beloved daughter.
Jane sipped the cocoa slowly. Whatever these people had planned for her future, it did not seem to be very good. Somehow she had to escape from their clutches. She racked her brain to devise a way of getting her freedom, but each time it came back to one thing. She was locked in a room with only two outlets – the door and the window. The door was kept locked, and the window was screwed shut.
She was to learn that desperate situations often produce desperate solutions.
Chapter 42
Jane slept fitfully. She woke up a few times and immediately remembered where she was: held prisoner for an unknown reason and confined to a tiny room. Eventually she dropped off into a sounder sleep towards early morning and was woken up by the cockerel crowing. It seemed to be only yards from her window.
She lay awake, listening to the sounds from outside. It seemed to be almost another world, remote from her. The realisation came to her that she should have been back at work that day. What would they think when she didn’t turn up at the office? She also remembered that she and several other members of staff were due to have a meeting with Annette that morning to discuss future plans. As she was a key player, she wondered whether Annette would cancel the meeting.
It seemed ages before she heard the key being turned in the door and Mel appeared. Mel put a plate and a mug of tea on the bedside table. She looked at Jane.
‘Slept well?’ she enquired, with a bit of a grin.
‘No,’ replied Jane curtly.
Mel said nothing. She was turning to leave when Jane broached the subject that was on her mind.
‘Can I have a shower or a bath?’ she asked. To give more emphasis to her request she added, ‘I feel dirty and horrible.’
Mel pondered the request for a few seconds before answering. Then she replied abruptly, ‘OK. But it’ll have to be later.’
With that, she left the room.
So far, so good, thought Jane. Her request was sincere, but her thoughts were on escape. The room she was in did not seem to offer any options. Her best possible chance would be outside of it. Could she give her captors the slip? It was worth a try.
Satisfied with her strategy, she sat back on the bed to tackle the breakfast Mel had brought. A fried egg swam in a mass of fat, together with two slices of bacon. It was not the sort of breakfast she would normally have partaken of, but hunger forced her to eat what had been provided.
It must have been at least an hour and a half later that Mel returned. She glanced at Jane, who was lying on the bed. ‘OK. You can have a bath now. But no tricks, and you’ll have to leave all your clothes here.’
This was something Jane had not bargained for. ‘Everything?’ she queried.
‘Yes.’
Jane said nothing. She hadn’t quite bargained for stripping off in front of Mel, but if that was the way it was, so be it.
Quickly she divested herself of all her clothes, tossing them casually onto the bed. She removed the two items of jewellery she was wearing and placed them with the clothes, watched all the time by Mel.
Stark naked, she casually picked up the bucket she had had to use and, almost to hide her embarrassment, she announced, ‘I’m ready.’
She followed Mel out of the room into the corridor. First she had to empty the bucket in the toilet, and then Mel led her down the corridor to a bathroom. It was old and tatty and none too clean, but Jane was looking forward to immersing her body in water.
‘Leave the door open and make plenty of noise,’ Mel instructed.
Jane was already running the water.
For ten minutes she enjoyed the feeling of water on her body. All the time she was looking for possible means of escape. She knew Mel was close by somewhere, but that didn’t stop her scheming. The window seemed an option. She tried to open it, but although she managed to loosen the catch it refused to budge.
‘You’re wasting your time. It never has opened.’
Mel was standing in the doorway again.
Jane was subdued. She had inadvertently indicated her objective to Mel. It was all or nothing now. Could she dash past Mel and escape down the stairs? It was a possibility. She guessed that in a sprint for freedom she would be faster than Mel, who was a bit on the plump side. So determined was her need, that she would escape stark naked if she had to. The idea brought a whiff of humour into the idea. She might even get arrested for indecent exposure!
She took her time over her bath. She was concerned to note the red marks on her ankles and wrists from being tied up the previous day, but she supposed they would disappear in time. Slowly she dried herself on the rather grey towel Mel had provided, as she quietly planned her next move. She knew Mel was not far away, but could she make the dash for freedom now?
Her optimism was short-lived. She emerged from the bathroom and tiptoed quickly down the corridor, past the room where she had been confined. As she hastened towards where she knew the stairs were, she came face to face with Carl.
Her reaction was to give a piercing shriek. Her two hands flew into action to cover herself.
Carl grinned at her. ‘What’s the hurry, darling?’ he asked.
For a second she stood petrified.
Carl’s eyes were all over her. ‘Nice body,’ he drawled.
The next instant Mel appeared from behind Jane and grabbed her by the arm. ‘Get back in your room,’ she snapped.
Jane needed no urging. As she retreated into the room she heard Mel berating Carl.
‘And
you, leave her alone.’
Jane heard Carl’s reply as he retreated down the stairs.
‘She’ll get worse where she’s going.’
Back in the room, Jane lost no time in getting dressed. She was in the process of fastening the skirt when Mel appeared in the room carrying the toilet bucket, clearly displeased with what had happened.
‘That’s the last time you’re allowed out of this room,’ she said angrily.
Jane made no reply. Mel slammed down the bucket with a clatter and swept out of the room, locking the door behind her.
Jane lay back on the bed once again. She felt defeated and depressed. Her gallant attempt to escape had failed and it now looked as if there would be no further opportunities. And what did Carl mean by his remark, ‘She’ll get worse where she’s going’? It worried her.
The time passed slowly. There was nothing to do except lie back and listen to the sounds that filtered through the window. Around what she guessed was lunchtime Mel brought her a bowl of soup and a roll. She made no comment during her visit and was grim-faced. It was quite clear Jane was not a popular prisoner at present.
It was not until the third day of Jane’s ordeal that Mel appeared to mellow slightly. In the afternoon she appeared with a mug of tea.
‘I’ve brought you something to read,’ she announced, putting the mug on the bedside table and dumping a bundle of magazines on the bed.
‘Oh. Thank you!’ exclaimed Jane, appreciative of the gesture. Boredom was beginning to stress her.
Mel seemed to be in a better mood. Jane decided to try and engage her in conversation. ‘How much longer am I going to be here?’ she asked.
‘Hopefully, not much longer,’ replied Mel curtly.
Jane was determined to continue the conversation. ‘And what will happen to me then?’ she asked.
Mel looked at her for a moment, almost as if she was thinking of a suitable answer. ‘Someone else takes over,’ she replied, almost irritably.
Jane could tell that she wasn’t going to glean any further information from Mel by questioning her. She tried another tack. ‘I’m sorry if I made you mad yesterday morning, but you can’t blame me for trying to escape,’ she said softly.
Mel regarded her. There was almost a sadness about her, but she answered immediately. ‘I don’t blame you. I’d have done the same myself. Actually, I feel a bit sorry for you. It’s not your fault you’re in this position.’
Jane felt that she was gaining ground. She thought for a few seconds. ‘You could let me go,’ she said quietly. ‘You could blindfold me and drive me off somewhere miles away. I wouldn’t know where I’d been,’ she suggested hopefully.
Mel laughed. ‘Nice one. But I don’t fancy a bullet in my back, thank you,’ she retorted with a bit of a smile.
‘How did you get into all this?’ Jane asked as kindly as she could.
The same look of sadness came over Mel, but she quickly recovered. ‘You don’t know what it’s like, the world I live in.’ She paused for a second and then continued. ‘I was brought up in a rotten family. My mother was on drugs and my father was in and out of prison. I used to tell the other kids at school he’d gone on holiday. I got into trouble before I left school and was on probation by the time I was sixteen.’
She stopped for a few moments and looked miserably at Jane. She seemed to want to continue talking. ‘I got into nursing, but I was sacked for trying to steal drugs,’ she announced. ‘I was in prison by the time I was twenty,’ she added casually.
‘I’m sorry,’ responded Jane.
‘Once you’ve been in prison, it’s hard. You go for a job and, yes, they’re very polite, but it’s always the same: “I’m sorry, we can’t take the risk” – or you get a rejection letter.’
‘It must be very hard,’ sympathised Jane.
Mel went on talking. ‘Then I took up with Carl. He’s been in and out of prison. We took on this farm, trying to make a go of it, but he’s no farmer and now we’re in debt and the land is rented out. With the money we get for this job we’ll go to Spain and do something there.’
Jane was trying to think of a suitable reply, but Mel spoke again first. ‘You’re our meal ticket.’ She laughed briefly.
‘Thanks,’ retorted Jane.
Mel looked at her for a moment and then almost as if she had said too much, she muttered, ‘I’ve got to go. I’ve got things to do,’ and left the room.
Alone again, Jane started to glance through some of the magazines. One of them was the issue of Discerning Woman with the Angus Pike article. It brought back memories. She remembered her first meeting with Bob and the development of her relationship with him. Now she was held prisoner for an unknown reason and with an unknown future. She wondered whether Bob was looking for her. How would he know where she was? That thought quickly reminded her of the predicament she was in. Carl’s words had struck fear into her. She was all the more determined to escape, but the big question was, how? It was now clear that for the rest of her stay in the farmhouse she was not going to be allowed out of the room. That morning Mel had brought a bowl of water for her to wash in. That cut out any hope of escape outside the room. The bedroom window seemed to be her only option, but Carl had secured that on her first morning in the room. If only she had a screwdriver…
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden return of Mel. She was carrying a newspaper, and there was the trace of a confident smile on her face.
‘Fancy that! You’ve made the headlines,’ she remarked, casually tossing the newspaper onto the bed next to Jane. Then she left the room.
Jane picked up the paper. It seemed to be a local publication, and at first she was puzzled at what she was supposed to look at. Then she found it: a short report in a column.
Tragedy at Dolby Cove. A tragedy occurred at Dolby Cove on Monday evening. It is understood that a young couple went for a midnight swim there. One of them, Jane Carroll, from London, apparently got into difficulties while swimming and is believed to have drowned. A land and sea search was undertaken by the police and coastguard, but Miss Carroll’s body has so far not been recovered. Miss Carroll’s partner, Robert Harker, was too upset to be interviewed by our reporter. There are strong currents in the area of Dolby Cove, and swimming is discouraged.
Jane stared at the article in disbelief. She was reading a report of her own death. Nobody was looking for her alive – only her dead body…
Chapter 43
Jane stared at the newspaper article for a long time. A cold fear now gripped her. She was on her own; nobody was going to come and rescue her. Everybody thought she was dead. Drowned. Even Bob must now think the same. She knew now why she had been taken to the seashore and forced to strip off her clothes. It was all part of the plan, whatever that was.
Somehow she had to escape, but how? Could she break the glass in the window? The idea made her leap off the bed and look for something to use. The room appeared to contain nothing that might serve her. In desperation she picked up one of the shoes Mel had given her. The heel had a metal tip. That might do the trick. Clutching the shoe in one hand, she started to tap the window. The sound it made seemed to be quite loud. She knew she would have to strike the glass much harder to break it and it would take quite a time for her to make a large enough hole to crawl through. By that time Mel and Carl would be alerted. She abandoned the idea.
She examined the two screws Carl had used to lock the window. If only she had a screwdriver. She fingered the slot in one of the screws. If she could find something to fit into it, could she turn the screw? Again she looked desperately round the room for something to help her. The room had been well prepared for her use. It was bare and lacking any object that might be remotely suitable. She looked into the chest of drawers. The first drawer was empty. The second contained some musty blankets. The third yielded nothing. The last drawer offered hope. It contained a few items of clothing and several old handbags. Jane opened each one. She found a penny in one, but that was going to
be too thick. But the second bag she examined contained a metal nail file.
Her heart thumping, Jane examined the file. The end of it was rather similar to a screwdriver. Would it turn the screws?
She went over to the window and tried the file in the slot in the head of one of the screws. It fitted perfectly, but how on earth was she going to hold it in position so that she could turn the screw? At that instant she heard a noise outside the door, and then the familiar sound of the key in the lock. She flew back to the bed. She just had time to hide the file beneath her and pick up one of the magazines and pretend to be reading it.
Mel entered the room. She was carrying Jane’s evening meal, which appeared to be a pasty on a plate accompanied by a large portion of mashed potatoes. There was also the usual mug of tea. She placed them on the bedside table and looked at Jane with a grin.
‘You’re going on your travels tomorrow night.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Jane anxiously.
‘We’re saying goodbye to you.’
‘Where am I going?’
‘Somewhere safe,’ replied Mel casually.
‘But where? What’s going to happen to me?’ Jane almost pleaded.
‘It’s best you don’t know.’ Mel was serious now.
Jane wanted to ask more questions, but Mel must have sensed that, and with a brief ‘Enjoy your meal’ she was gone.
Jane picked at the food, deep in thought and fearful for her future. Where were they going to take her? The hints of something sinister dropped by both Carl and Mel were tinged with menace, and she was now all the more determined to escape. She had only a day and a night to achieve that. She was also conscious that she was beginning to feel unwell. She had a bit of a sore throat, and several times during the day she had felt shivery. She had tried to dismiss the feeling, but now she was aware that something was happening to her body. I can’t be ill now, she thought. She just had to fight it.
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