A Form of Justice

by Dawn Marsanne

‘We are going nowhere until I say so. One move and I’ll slit your throat.’

  ‘OK, OK, I’ll stand still. Look, I’ll hold my hands up. I’m no threat to you.’

  ‘Good. I like seeing you frightened. Submissive even! Did you ever think anyone would describe you like that?’

  ‘I’m sorry. It was a long time ago, we were only young.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true, but some things stay with people for a long time. The emotional scars never really heal.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. I was wild, my parents couldn’t control me, they gave me too much freedom. Please, let’s talk?’

  ‘We are talking. It’s time for you to listen to me for once.’

  ‘OK, OK, I’m listening,’ said Gina. The effect of her vaping had worn off now, and her normal rational character had returned. Her brain was working overtime. Was it the sherry? Or had she added something to the e-cigarette? Her mind raced through all the possible reasons, but then she realised it was pointless trying to analyse the situation. She simply had to escape from the danger before her. There would be time, at least she hoped there would be, for an examination of the events which had led up to this perilous situation.

  ‘Let’s go back to my house, we can talk there. Have a cup of tea, as you said. It’s dangerous here.’ Gina had no experience of hostage negotiation, but as long as they could maintain a dialogue, she felt there was hope.

  ‘Oh, yes, it’s dangerous. I’m glad you are afraid. I hope this is going to have a lasting effect on you. My life was ruined. I had to have years of counselling. I’ll never be well.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ wept Gina. ‘Please put down the knife.’

  ‘It’s too late. I’ve made my decision.’

  ‘No, please, no,’ Gina wept, her body shook. She was powerless.

  ‘No! I’ve already told you I’ll cut your throat if you don’t keep quiet!’

  ‘I’ll be quiet. Trust me.’

  ‘Ha! I’ll never trust you.’

  Gina glanced past Patsy to assess the layout of their surroundings. Somehow she had to fathom an escape route. It was dark, they were by the railway line, and she was confronted by someone who was completely manic and disturbed. She needed to appease Patsy and by some means persuade her to move back along the track towards the city, where someone would see what was happening and call the police.

  ‘I never achieved my full potential due to your torments. You pushed me too far, and I snapped, I’d had enough. Then, as you know, I had to leave Stourford School. I could have gone to Oxford or Cambridge, I was just as clever as you, don’t forget I won a scholarship.’

  ‘I know you were very bright. Nobody is disputing that.’

  ‘Even when I left the school you weren’t satisfied, were you? You broke three of my fingers by stamping on them. Even after surgery my hand wasn't completely healed. It's always been weak.

  ‘What can I say but that I’m sorry?’

  ‘Well, it’s good to hear your apology, I’ve waited long enough.’

  Gina didn’t know what else to say, she remained silent.

  ‘My life’s been a struggle. I’ve done well to rebuild it in any shape or form.’

  ‘I’m sorry, truly sorry.’

  ‘Are you really? Perhaps now that you’ve been cornered, you’re prepared to say you’re sorry, but I’m not sure I believe you.’

  ‘Please believe me. I am truly sorry.’

  ‘You disgust me. You’re just like those abusive carers, except that some of them are actually in prison!’

  Gina was sobbing. She had a headache and was terrified. Patsy was so disturbed and was bent on retribution. This had been well planned, which was further proof that she was intelligent and determined.

  ‘I knew that whatever I said I would never be believed. The school was so afraid of upsetting your parents that they would hear no wrong about you. It wasn’t until I finally snapped and Susan spoke up for me that they began to listen.’

  ‘My parents didn’t control me enough, they let me get away with things!’

  ‘You knew that the school wanted your father’s money and you exploited that fact. Deep down you were cruel and evil. I can never forgive you.’

  ‘All I can do is apologise,’ cried Gina. ‘Let me try to make it up to you in some way?’

  ‘It’s too late. Don’t you see? My life is ruined and has been for so long that I thought, what the hell, what have I got to lose?’

  ‘Don’t say that! You’ve got so much to lose!’

  ‘You don’t know what my life is like!’

  Gina was unsure what to say, nothing so far was placating Patsy.

  ‘You don’t realise how it’s so tiring, carrying my past around with me. Being constantly reminded of how I never fulfilled my potential!’

  ‘I’m truly sorry,’ said Gina. She was crying and her face contorted in agony. ‘Oh, God. This is awful! Please let’s get away from here?’

  ‘I’ve finally had enough. It’s worn me down, and now I know that I want to end it.’

  Gina was struggling to cope with her ordeal. Not only was she terrified by the present danger but Patsy had bombarded her with an outpouring of heartbreaking recollections about school. The air was electric with emotion.

  ‘Then finally I’ll get some peace! All the time I’m trying to banish the memories and sometimes failing to stop them from breaking through!’

  ‘We need to talk about this! Please? Somewhere else, not here!’ Gina grabbed Patsy by her arms, the mobile fell to the ground, and they were in darkness. Suddenly the light levels increased as a beam punctuated the darkness.

  Chapter 48

  Police cars and ambulances screamed through Canterbury. The first call had come through from pedestrians on the level crossing, who had spotted two women walk along the railway line, the second, from someone whose house backed on to the railway line and had seen some shadows in the light from a torch.

  The first responding officers were now making their way alongside the track, using torches to guide their way.

  ‘Stand back, please,’ instructed the first officer at the scene. ‘We need more manning here to control onlookers,’ he said into his radio. ‘Making our way along the track now.’

  ‘I think I can see two people ahead!’ said PC Carl Mees, to his colleague.

  ‘Two people alongside the tracks, we need to get the power turned off,’ said Sergeant Darren Hilton, into his radio.

  **

  ‘Finally, I’ve heard you say sorry! I’ve waited so long for this moment. I’ve dreamt about it.’

  The pair were locked together, struggling, neither able to free themselves from each other’s grasp.

  ‘Stop it!’ cried Gina.

  ‘It’s too late!’

  There was a noise. The ground vibrated slightly as a train rounded the corner. It wasn’t travelling particularly quickly as it was approaching the station. Had they not been so caught up in their own intense drama, they would have heard the bells from the level crossing sounding a couple of minutes beforehand.

  The duo at the side of the tracks was caught in the beam of the train’s headlights, and the horrified driver sounded his horn. The noise was deafening, but Patsy didn’t care. This was it. The moment she’d planned for over the last few weeks since her episode of amnesia.

  ‘This is where it ends!’ shouted Patsy.

  **

  ‘Contacting the railway,’ replied control. ‘Transport Police alerted, on their way.’

  ‘Shit!’ shouted Carl.

  ‘Woman hit by a train!’ shouted Sergeant Hilton into his radio. The police officers saw the impact, and the train slowed to a halt. The driver alighted from his cab, clearly in a state of agitation. The officers jogged along by the track, taking care to keep away from the rails which were still live. As the police approached, the driver squatted down and put his head in his hands.

  ‘Jesus, fuck!’ said the first policeman. ‘Confirming woman hit by train. Serious injuries,’ he
said into his radio.

  ‘Oh, God, oh God,’ was all the other officer could manage to utter as he looked down at the sight before him.

  ‘Carl, go and deal with the driver!’ said his colleague. ‘Christ!’ He knelt down by the prostrate woman, unsure whether to check for signs of life as he could get electrocuted.

  ‘Can you hear me, love?’ he could be heard saying.

  ‘I couldn’t stop in time!’ said the driver. ‘They were fighting, and I blew my horn, but they were still struggling. I hit one of them, I don’t think I hit the other woman!’

  Soon they were joined by paramedics and more colleagues from the Canterbury force. The air was live with the crackle of short-wave radios. Torchlight danced across the frightful scene as a well-practised emergency procedure swung into action.

  **

  Will returned home just before 10 p.m. after a visit to the gym. He keyed in the code on the burglar alarm and flicked on several lights to make the house more welcoming. Their rented house was rather large for two people but all the same, it was nice to have ample space. He emptied his gym bag and placed his sweaty gear in the washing machine before pouring himself a large glass of sparkling water from the fridge.

  Gina hadn't sent any messages since her arrival at the school, when she had admitted being nervous and anxious for the talk to be over. He texted another short message to tell her he was back home. There were a few items of post, including a letter from their estate agent in Manchester confirming the offer from Mr and Mrs McKillop, subject to contract. Things were moving along, but as ever there would doubtless be hitches along the way.

  Will flicked through his diary for the following day and saw he had a full morning of consultations. To his relief, he saw that no procedures were scheduled until the following week. He put his hospital paperwork back in his briefcase and rubbed his hands over his face. He felt shattered but didn’t want to go to bed without seeing Gina. He was desperate to hear how the evening had gone, in particular, her talk. Suddenly he felt peckish and went to look in the fridge. As he surveyed the contents, he realised that he fancied toast and jam as a bedtime snack, so Will took out some thick slices of bread from the freezer.

  **

  Tom must have dozed off and woke with a start as his mobile vibrated, then rang. He peered at the screen which showed an unknown caller, so reluctantly, he swiped across to answer it.

  ‘Mr Webster? Thomas Webster?’

  ‘Yes,’ he answered, his heart racing after waking suddenly.

  ‘This is PC Finch, Canterbury Police.’

  ‘Oh, God, is it Trish? Has she had an accident?’

  ‘Please listen carefully,’ said the policewoman.

  Tom was jolted into reality and now completely awake as he listened in horror to the information being relayed to him.

  **

  Will had changed into some pyjama bottoms and a T-shirt when his mobile rang at 11.15 p.m. He was desperate for news from Gina and for the comfort of his bed.

  ‘Ah, at last,’ he murmured, picking up the phone, his relief being replaced by annoyance as he saw it was an unknown caller. He sighed and rejected the call. After about twenty seconds, the phone rang, again showing an unknown caller. Sighing with exasperation, he answered aggressively, ‘Yes?’

  ‘Mr William Overton?’

  ‘Look, I don’t take unsolicited calls, please don’t call again!’ he snapped.

  ‘Mr Overton, it’s the police. This is Sergeant Howells, Canterbury Police.’

  ‘The police? Oh, God, it’s Gina, isn’t it? She’s had an accident?’

  The police sergeant gave Will a brief account of the evening’s events causing him to slump down heavily in a chair. His world had just been shattered.

  Chapter 49

  The ambulance was travelling at high speed along the A28 to Accident and Emergency at the William Harvey Hospital in Ashford. The paramedics were working frantically on the seriously injured patient.

  A tourniquet had been applied above the knee on the left thigh to stem blood loss from the horrifically mangled limb. An IV line had been inserted to allow a saline drip to be administered.

  ‘Morphine, 10 milligrams, injected,’ said Natasha. She continued to watch the electrocardiograph monitor. ‘Blood pressure dropping, heart rate is unstable, she’s going to arrest!’

  The ambulance crew were in contact with an emergency medicine consultant at the hospital.

  ‘Blood loss under control but the patient is losing consciousness,’ said Rick, into his radio.

  ‘ETA?’ he called to the ambulance driver, Dave.

  ‘Eight minutes,’ he told the emergency medicine consultant.

  ‘OK, will do.’

  ‘Tash, we need to resuscitate, so prepare her chest!’

  His colleague cut through the top clothing and underwear to expose the woman’s chest, then began heart massage.

  Rick reached for the paddles and set the controls to deliver the standard amount of current.

  ‘OK, stand clear!’

  Natasha stood to one side. Rick applied the paddles to the patient’s chest, pressed the button causing the patient’s button to jerk.

  Natasha continued the heart massage procedure. The monitor showed that the heartbeat was restored, albeit irregular.

  ‘OK, let’s try to keep her stable. Hopefully, she should be OK until we get there.’

  ‘Two minutes!’ shouted Dave from the front of the ambulance.

  ‘She’s still with us. Airways clear,’ replied Tash.

  The paramedics could feel the ambulance sway from side to side as they negotiated roundabouts, a sign they had reached the complex of roads approaching the hospital. In less than a minute, the ambulance pulled up, and the doors flew open. An emergency medicine specialist boarded the ambulance to assess the patient.

  ‘Jesus,’ he said. ‘Good work, guys, we’ll take over now.’

  The trolley was lowered from the back of the ambulance and into the Accident and Emergency Department. A trauma surgeon was on his way to the hospital, and an operating theatre and staff were on standby. Finally, the ambulance crew could relax, having completed their duties in textbook fashion.

  Natasha sat on the rear of the ambulance, her head bowed, trying to calm her racing heart.

  ‘OK, Tash?’ asked Rick.

  ‘Yes, I need a coffee,’ she replied. ‘God, what a mess.’

  ‘We’ve done our bit, it’s over to the medics now. This your first incident at the railway?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve attended some road smashes, but this was much worse tonight.’

  ‘You take a few minutes, I’ll clear up in the back here,’ said her colleague.

  ‘Thanks,’ she replied.

  Natasha had no idea about the sequence of events leading up to tonight’s call, that was a job for the police. She’d heard snatches of conversation by the side of the tracks, suicide and struggle were two of the words mentioned. Whatever the outcome, several lives had been completely overturned in just a few minutes that evening.

  **

  Tom dressed quickly in a pair of chinos and a jumper, then grabbed a casual jacket from the hall cupboard. His heart was beating furiously, pounding against the walls of his chest, he felt light-headed and nauseous as he opened the front door and unlocked his car with the remote fob.

  ‘Shit,’ he cursed, running back inside for his phone which he must have left upstairs.

  As he mounted the stairs, he tripped a couple of times and stumbled. Detouring to the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and ran out to his car. He started the engine and crunched the gears as he tried to select reverse. He simply had to calm down otherwise he would end up in hospital. He wiped his hands on his trousers, closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before reversing out slowly from his driveway.

  **

  Will removed his pyjama bottoms and forcefully pulled open his underwear drawer, causing it to fall on to the carpet, grazing his toe in the process.<
br />
  ‘Fuck!’ he swore as he pulled out a pair of boxer shorts. He pulled on a sweatshirt over his T-shirt, next some chinos, shoved his feet into some trainers and ran down the stairs. He grabbed his briefcase and jacket from the hallway and slammed the door behind him.

  The lights on his Audi Q5 winked at him, and he flung open the door and climbed in, jarring his knee on the steering column. Suddenly a wave of nausea washed over him, and he quickly staggered out of the car to vomit on to the driveway. He righted himself and clung to the open car door, taking some gulps of the night air. He needed to try to get a grip on himself and respond to the emergency.

  The wave of nausea appeared to have passed for the moment, so Will got into the passenger seat once more, fired the engine and sped away, simultaneously fastening his seatbelt. He simply had to see his wife. The roads were conveniently empty, a welcome contrast to his normal commute to Ashford when he often took over half an hour to drive the fifteen miles. He was functioning on auto-pilot, oblivious to his surroundings, focused on his destination. Flooring the accelerator, he made it through a set of lights on amber, then took the next turning too fast and had to quickly correct his steering.

  Once on the main road, he took advantage of any straight stretches to maximise his speed, ignoring any potholes and taking some bends far too quickly causing his heart to race in panic. As he approached the outskirts of Ashford, he was sure he saw a speed camera flash as he broke the speed limit. What did a few points on his licence matter compared with seeing his wife? The past twenty-minutes had seemed interminable, but finally, his destination was in reach. Accelerating through a set of traffic lights just as they turned to red, he turned into the last road before the approach to the hospital. He headed towards the Accident and Emergency Department and parked carelessly in the car park nearest the building, before jumping out of his car and sprinting towards the entrance. The automatic doors remained closed as he approached, causing Will to curse as they slowly squealed ajar allowing him access.

  Will ran towards the reception window, shouting, ‘Gina Overton! Where is she? I’m her husband.’