by Cathy Ace
At that very moment, Poppy Brown’s fingers found a metal latch on a wooden door that she was immediately sure would lead her out of the cellar. She clicked it, gently. She cracked the door open and heard a woman’s voice call out, not far away.
‘Mr Gilchrist – it’s Annabel Dixon here – the front door’s still open. I’m coming in now. Are you all upstairs?’
Poppy didn’t know anyone called Annabel Dixon, but the voice made her feel safe, and gave her the courage to open the door further.
And then everything went horribly pear-shaped.
As Christine walked through the front door of number eighteen, St Peter’s Terrace, she looked up the staircase ahead of her and saw Annie beginning to descend.
‘You’ve got a lovely place ’ere,’ Annie was saying in a chatty voice, smiling around at Gary Gilchrist who was just behind her. Hearing Christine enter below Annie called down to her.
‘Oh, Miss Dixon – I think this is just what our lady is after – all the right rooms in all the right places, but Mr Gilchrist says we can’t see the basement or the cellar –’ Annie placed particular emphasis on the words – ‘because they’re full of junk. I said we could estimate their sizes and maybe come back another day to measure them up.’
Standing just inside the front door, Christine was quick to catch on. ‘Ah, so there’s a basement and a cellar,’ she repeated, and transferred her gaze from Annie at the top of the stairs toward the door straight ahead of her, that she guessed led to the back of the house. The door was open, and she was taken aback to see a filthy, bloodied head, followed by a filthy, bloodied torso, creeping slowly up the back staircase toward her.
Christine couldn’t help herself. ‘Poppy?’ she cried.
‘Yes,’ Poppy shouted back weakly, sounding frightened.
Christine knew the girl must be confused. ‘You’re safe now, Poppy. Just come toward me and I can get you out of here. Your brother Rob is fine. He’ll be pleased to see you.’
Gary Gilchrist looked horrified. He pulled a Stanley knife out of his pocket and pushed out the small but deadly blade to its fullest extent. Annie was on the stair below him. He had her head in a vice-like grip in the blink of an eye. He held the triangular blade to her throat.
Annie stopped squirming and gripped the banister the instant she felt the blade touch the skin of her throat.
Gilchrist’s voice was rough, angry and cold. ‘Don’t move,’ he shouted into Annie’s ear. She wasn’t moving a muscle. ‘And you – you stay where you are, or I’ll cut this one,’ he shouted to Christine, who was also frozen to the spot.
Poppy ran toward the front door, flinging her arms around Christine’s neck and trying to drag her outside.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ she cried, but Christine remained rooted.
Without taking her eyes off Gilchrist and Annie for a second, as though her gaze could keep Annie safe, Christine said, ‘Get out of here, Poppy – now. Run out onto the street, and look for a short woman with grey hair. Her name is Mavis. She’ll help you. She’s a nurse, a good one. We work together. And tell her the police will be here very soon.’
‘They’re almost here, and I’ve already arrived.’ Mavis’s voice came from just outside the front door.
Christine felt an enormous sense of relief.
‘My colleague is right, Poppy,’ said Mavis to the frightened, and obviously confused young woman, ‘the best place for you is out here – come away with you now, and let me see if you’ve been hurt. Christine,’ Mavis added firmly, ‘the police are coming, they’ll be here any moment, I can hear the sirens.’
‘You bitches,’ hissed Gary. ‘I don’t know who you are, but you won’t get away with this. This one stays with me until I’m out of here safe,’ he added stonily, twisting Annie’s neck in the crook of his arm.
Natasha Moon appeared behind Gary and Annie at the top of the stairs; she looked panic-stricken. ‘What’s going on Gary?’ she wailed. ‘Oh my God, Gary, you’re not going to hurt her, are you? She’s been so nice to us,’ she said in disbelief.
Gary shouted at her over his shoulder, ‘Shut your face, you stupid little slapper. This is nothing to do with you – I’m gettin’ out of here now. You can stay or go as you please, just keep out of my way.’ Then to Annie he growled, ‘Move,’ and he began to push her down the stairs.
Annie held her ground, grabbing onto the banister even tighter.
‘Move, or else I’ll cut yer. Don’t think I won’t – I’ve done it before and I can do it again.’ He pushed the point of the knife into Annie’s neck. Christine could see blood starting to trickle toward her friend’s chest. It was a terrifying sight.
Christine was absolutely agog when Annie dared to say, ‘You cut that poor Rob Brown, didn’t you, Gary?’
At this comment, Poppy, who’d been focusing on Mavis on the front doorstep and the half a dozen police cars converging on the house, turned to face the tableau at the top of the stairs.
‘Rob?’ she shouted. ‘What’s happened to Rob? Is Rob hurt? You said he was alright. Did you lie to me?’
Christine shook her head. She couldn’t believe that Annie was still talking. Her gurgling voice echoed in the eerie stillness that had befallen the group, ‘Luckily for you Poppy, and for Rob, your brother survived alright, and he was able to tell the police everything. Rob knows your face, Gary, and now so does Poppy, and so do I, and so does my colleague Christine. Christine is Jacintha Wraysbury’s cousin, you know, Gary.’
Gary seemed puzzled. ‘Them two are cousins?’ He looked from Poppy to Christine.
Poppy replied, ‘I’m not this woman’s cousin. But there again I’m not Jacintha Wraysbury. I’m Poppy Brown. I work for Jacintha.’
Annie continued, ‘We know you thought you had Lady Jacintha held here for ransom, but what you’ve got is this poor kid, Poppy Brown, instead. Lady Jacintha’s assistant. So, whichever way you look at it, you’re stuffed. You almost killed a perfectly innocent man – this girl’s brother – and you sent a ransom note to Lord Wraysbury threatening his daughter’s life. I expect you’ll pay the price.’
‘What do you know about it?’ shouted Gary, sounding just a little panicked, but blustering nonetheless. ‘You don’t know nothin’, you don’t, you silly cow. You’re just like all the rest of ’em ain’t yer? Think yer knows ev’rythin’, when you knows nothin’, innit? Well, I’ll show you. I can always put a woman in ’er place – even my stupid old mum thought she could boss me around. Well I showed her who was boss right enough, when I cut ’er throat. And I can show you lot too.’
‘What do you mean, you cut your mother’s throat? You told me your mum died and left you this house,’ shouted Natasha.
‘Well there ya go, Tash,’ snarled Gary, ‘I always said you’d believe any old rubbish I told yer. Thick as two short ones, ain’t yer?’
Natasha’s chin started to quiver. ‘You and me is over, Gary Gilchrist, you hear. And I won’t let you go hurtin’ no one else.’ Natasha grabbed at Gary’s lank, greasy hair, pulling him backwards, twisting his neck, and began to hit him with her little fists. She screamed like a child.
Gary used the hand with which he was gripping the knife to try release his hair from Natasha’s grip, slashing wildly behind him, but he also tightened his lock around Annie’s neck, tossing her about at the top of the stairs.
Annie roared, and started to squirm, punching Gary in the belly.
Gary let go of Annie and spun around, slashing out with the knife toward Natasha’s throat. She wasn’t expecting the attack, so curled into a ball, trying to protect herself with her arms.
‘Shut up, Tash, you silly bitch,’ Gary shouted. The knife bit into the flesh of Natasha’s arms, then he found his mark. Natasha stopped screaming. She slid to the floor, her hands at her throat, her eyes wide.
Annie managed to regain her balance enough to be able to take her chance; even as the unfortunate Natasha was falling to the ground, she grabbed Gary’s knife-wielding arm and p
ulled on it as hard as she could, twisting it with both her hands, and with all her might. The knife sliced into her shoulder as he reeled. He lost his balance as he tried to fend her off, teetered for a second with a surprised look on his face, then tumbled backwards down the stairs, rolling, and thumping down the steep flight one tread at a time.
Annie grabbed the banister to support herself, but she, too, was about to topple – her hands cut and bleeding, she began to slip.
Christine felt Poppy push past her, saw her leap over Gary’s body, which lay crumpled at the foot of the staircase, and sprint up toward Annie, two stairs at a time.
The police constable who was first through the front door had never seen anything quite like it – a staircase strewn with bodies, walls covered in blood and a young woman screaming at him to fetch a doctor. Luckily, a level-headed superior was right behind him, so he didn’t have to decide what to do next.
Christine was pacing along the hospital corridor. She had been for hours. What were they doing in that operating room?
‘Come and sit down,’ whispered Mavis, but Christine felt that moving about was the only way to make everything alright for Annie.
Carol was wedged into an ugly plastic bucket-chair next to Lady Agatha, who was holding onto her daughter’s hand as though she’d never let go of it again. Jacintha’s other hand was being grasped tightly by Poppy Brown.
A nurse bustled into the waiting area.
‘What’s happening – will she be alright?’ asked Christine. All faces turned toward the harried nurse.
‘Doctor will be out in a minute,’ she answered, then rushed off through a set of swinging double doors.
The ‘minute’ seemed like an age to the little group that had been waiting, tense and tired, for news about Annie’s injuries. The paramedics had done what they could for her on the scene, but it had been clear Annie had lost a lot of blood, and no one had told them anything since she’d been whisked into an operating room upon arrival at the mercifully close-at-hand St Martha’s Hospital.
Poppy had been cleaned up and pronounced fit to leave whenever she wanted; the police had interviewed Christine, Mavis and Carol, as well as Lady Agatha and Poppy herself. Poppy had spent some time with Rob, who was in another wing of the same hospital, and now all they could do was wait. And wait.
Finally a doctor arrived. He looked as tired as they all were. It was close to midnight.
Christine felt as though a cold hand was gripping her heart; she felt the responsibility of Annie’s condition very personally.
They dreaded what the doctor might say, but they all needed to know.
‘Miss Parker is in a stable condition . . .’
‘Does that mean she’s going to be alright?’ was Christine’s panicked query.
‘With time, and a good deal of rest, she’ll make a full recovery. Though she’ll have some significant scars from the attack. We might need to do some follow-up cosmetic work, but that can wait for now.’
The doctor couldn’t have been more succinct, nor his words more comforting to all those present.
Christine, Carol, and Mavis all looked at each other with wide grins and teary eyes. Mavis stood and reached forward to shake the doctor by the hand. Carol promptly burst into floods of tears and hugged Lady Agatha, who hugged back. Poppy pumped the air with a bandaged fist and Christine finally sat herself down and held her face in her hands, not crying, but laughing.
‘When will we be able to see the patient,’ asked the outwardly calm Mavis.
‘Well, if you don’t stay too long, you could see her in a few moments; they’re just taking her up to the private room that Lady Wraysbury has arranged for. Ward A – Room 1; the best suite in the house,’ he smiled, and winked at Mavis as he walked away.
‘Come along then,’ said Mavis, gathering the group together in her most efficient manner, ‘if we’re going to see her let’s do it and get it over with so she can get some sleep – then the rest of us can get to our beds and do the same.’
Annie looked very small in the large room; she was propped up on pillows, her hands, neck and shoulder area heavily bandaged, her closely-cropped hair covered by a green paper cap, and with tubes coming out of her ‘good’ arm. Her eyes were open, and she was smiling.
‘Oh Annie,’ cried Christine as she pushed into the room, ‘it’s so good to see you looking so . . .’
‘Crappy?’ offered Annie.
‘Well, you have looked better,’ conceded Christine.
‘It’s alright Chrissy, doll’,’ replied Annie with a feeble wink, ‘I haven’t got to worry about what I look like in here, and they wouldn’t give me a mirror anyway. Besides, they tell me all the scars will be under my clothes – when I’m wearing them, anyway.’
Christine, very uncharacteristically, burst into tears. Her aunt comforted her. Mavis picked up the chart that hung on the wall beside Annie’s bed and cast an experienced eye across it.
‘You’ve been a lucky girl,’ she pronounced, re-hanging the chart and smiling, ‘and I don’t think we’ve got long before you’re fast asleep in that bed there, young lady. They’ve given you some nice sedatives that should keep you resting for a while, whether you want to or not.’
‘Oh Mave – I want to – believe me, I want to,’ replied Annie. ‘I ain’t half tired, you know.’ Then she added, looking at Carol, ‘And you don’t look none too bonnie, neither. What time is it? Does your David know where you are, Car? It must be very late, doll.’
‘Yes,’ replied Carol, smiling wanly. ‘I phoned him hours ago, before I left the office to come here. He sends his love, Annie, and said he’ll come with me to visit as soon as he can.’
‘Ta,’ replied Annie, ‘and send my love back to him. Say I’m sorry I kept you out so late, but tell him to be grateful that at least I’m sending you home sober this time.’
The tension was easing in the room. Everyone could see that their Annie was still their Annie – all be it a sliced-up and stitched-back-together version.
‘By the way,’ added Christine, ‘let me introduce you to my cousin’s valued assistant, Poppy Brown; Poppy, meet Annie.’
‘Thanks for coming to rescue me,’ said Poppy, meekly.
‘They told me in the ambulance it was you who stopped me from falling down the stairs – so thanks for that. I’ll come and watch you making up bouquets one day, maybe.’
‘That would be great,’ replied Poppy, ‘but I think I’ll be bringing you a few, to brighten this room while you’re here.’
‘With our compliments,’ added Jacintha.
A chuckle rippled around the room. It stopped abruptly when Annie asked, ‘How’s that little Tash – is she alright?’
Mavis answered; no one else seemed to be able to. ‘Both Natasha Moon and Gary Gilchrist are dead, I’m afraid, dear.’
‘Did I . . . did I kill him?’ asked Annie, looking horrified. Everyone could see she was shaken by the idea.
Christine moved toward her and put her hand on Annie’s. ‘What could you do, but what you did, darling?’ asked Christine quietly. ‘It was self-defense. I mean, look at what he did to you. And that poor girl – he just slit her throat wide open. Oh Annie – she was dead when she hit the floor.’
‘Trying to save me,’ added Annie bleakly. ‘Oh Gawd, this is terrible.’
Poppy stepped forward. ‘The man was an animal. Lord knows what he’d have done to me, or indeed, to his girlfriend, given time. The police are already searching the house for his mother’s remains; he’d told the neighbors he’d put her in a home, but now they’re pretty sure he killed her so he could get the house. Miss Parker, the man was a lunatic. And you came to save me. Whoever he thought I was, I’m pretty sure he meant me no good, look at what he did to my poor brother, Rob. He really meant to kill him, you know.’ She stopped and drew breath. ‘This was never going to end well for everyone.’
The room fell silent.
‘I have some news,’ said Carol quietly, and she shoved a littl
e plastic stick toward Annie. Annie peered at it, looking confused.
Carol waggled the stick at Annie. ‘I did it while I was waiting to phone the police this afternoon – to make the time go faster. I did three of them, and they’re all the same. I’m preggers.’ She was beaming. ‘No wonder I felt so bad – I’ve caught.’
‘Oh, doll,’ said Annie tiredly, ‘there’s me all banged up and you up the spout – what’s to become of the WISE Enquiries Agency now then, girls?’
‘Don’t go worrying your head about that, young lady,’ admonished Mavis. ‘I’ll put money on it that a few months from now we’ll all be back at it, somehow.’
‘And, until then,’ interrupted Lady Agatha, ‘you can rest assured there’ll be a large lump sum in your company bank account by the weekend. My brother – Christine’s father – will be continuing his support of you by providing your offices free of charge, and Annie’s private room and medical bills will all be taken care of by my husband. The Wraysbury family will do everything in its power to ensure that the WISE Enquiries Agency does more than survive this. Indeed, we’ll do our level best to ensure that, when you are able, it will thrive because of it. You answered mine and my dear daughter’s call, in our time of need, and for that I shall be ever in your debt. I have many influential, and wealthy, friends. They also have friends. And I’ll wager many of them have need of people who can do what – collectively – you women do. Be assured, I shall be your loudest and most supportive advocate.’
‘So I suppose we’re going to have to get used to dealing with the Hoity Toity set, then . . .’ said Annie as she began to drift to sleep with a wry grin on her face.
‘To the Hoity Toities,’ said Christine, by way of a mock-toast, but Annie was fast asleep, Carol was already planning the nursery, and Mavis was wondering whether she could catch the doctor before she left – just to check on a few of the medical details for Annie’s recuperation. Christine smiled at her aunt and her cousin, and her cousin’s aide Poppy.