Life Ruins

by Danuta Kot

  ‘Yes. I . . .’

  ‘Are you still feeling rough? I should have taken you straight to your friend’s last night. I could have collected the dog, got your stuff.’

  ‘What . . .’

  ‘Happened? You passed out on me.’ He sketched a grin, but she could see the worry in his eyes. ‘Hasn’t happened to me since I was twenty. One minute we were talking, next minute you were gone. I brought you here and called my doctor.’

  ‘Here?’

  ‘Sorry. Sorry. My house. You haven’t been here before, have you? He’s coming back this morning to check you’re all right.’

  Kay closed her eyes and waited for the pounding in her head to subside. ‘Your doctor?’ she finally managed.

  ‘I thought you should be back in hospital but he said it was best you not be moved. He said it was just exhaustion and a reaction to the smoke. That you’d come round fine with a good night’s sleep. He’s calling in a bit later this morning. Why don’t you rest until then – I can send up some breakfast if you like?’

  Kay made an involuntary gesture of revulsion. ‘Nothing. Thank you. Just some more water. And some paracetamol if you’ve got any.’

  ‘He said paracetamol as well as sleep. Apparently, you can get epic headaches after smoke inhalation. Here.’ He put a foil sheet of pills on the table by the bed. ‘If you want a shower, there’s a bathroom through there.’ He pointed to a door next to the one he’d come in by. ‘There’s everything you need.’

  ‘Maggie? She was expecting me last night.’

  ‘I called her. Don’t worry. I had to get her number from your phone – I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘And Milo?’

  ‘I’m afraid he had to spend another night at the vet’s. If you’re OK, we can get him later today. I’ll leave you to come round a bit.’

  Kay nodded. She’d barely taken half of this in. It was hard to concentrate – her mind kept drifting away.

  The door closed quietly behind him and she was left on her own. She was glad he wasn’t badgering her with lots of questions and advice. She’d never enjoyed being coddled. When she was ill, or when Matt had been ill for that matter, they retired into solitude until they were fit for human company again.

  She picked up the sheet of pills he’d left. She couldn’t think for the pain in her head. The first thing she needed to do was get it under some kind of control, then she’d have a shower, call Maggie and get over there as soon as she could. Shaun was being very kind, but . . .

  But what? Something was making her uneasy and she needed to pin down what it was. She popped a couple of pills out of the foil and swallowed them, gagging as they caught in her throat.

  Just taking them gave her a boost. She went into the bathroom, pulled off her clothes and stood under the shower. The water seemed to clear some of her confusion. She shampooed her hair, relieved to feel the grime from the fire and the hospital washing away, and stepped out feeling about ten years younger. The headache was still there, and the nausea, but she felt much better.

  OK. Plans. Call Maggie and arrange to move there this morning. Shaun’s doctor could wait – she’d rather see her own. Arrange to collect Milo. And call Becca. She had no idea where Becca was or how much she knew, but she needed warning about the police, who seemed to be on the lookout for an easy scapegoat.

  Wrapping herself in the dressing gown – soft, thick, fleecy and warm – Kay went to find her phone. Her bag was on the pale wood dresser, but her phone wasn’t there.

  Shaun said he’d taken it to get Maggie’s number, but surely he’d . . .

  Dizzy. She felt really dizzy. She shook her head to clear it, holding on to the edge of the basin. What was this? Had she hit her head during the fire? Had she got concussion? Was she going to collapse here on the floor where she could be left for a couple of hours before anyone thought to . . .

  Just . . .

  A wave of drowsiness swept over her, its intensity making her shiver. She fought to keep her mind on track. This is important! a voice in her head kept insisting. It was as if part of her had split away and barged in through an office door in her brain and was banging on the desk and shouting at her.

  What exactly had happened last night? She’d felt too ill to think about it, really think about it, but it didn’t make any sense. They hadn’t said anything at the hospital about after-effects of the fire; nothing about passing out, about headaches and sickness and . . .

  She’d been fine. She had just been feeling a bit tired, looking forward to picking up Milo, getting to Maggie’s and maybe having a glass of wine with an old friend before she went to bed. Getting life back to normal.

  They’d been driving into Whitby, to the vet.

  No. Shaun wanted to go and get petrol, and they had been heading . . . She screwed her face up trying to remember. Her thoughts kept drifting away from her.

  He’d been driving away from the coast, heading inland. And then he’d offered her coffee. There’s two cups – pour me one as well, will you?

  What she was thinking was crazy. It couldn’t be. Shaun had drunk the coffee too, he couldn’t . . .

  No. She hadn’t actually seen him drink any, but she’d finished hers – the entire cup. And then she’d started feeling weird – and then nothing until she woke up here, at Shaun’s, with a massive headache.

  The pills! What had she taken just now? She dragged herself across the bathroom to the toilet bowl and stuck her fingers down her throat until she threw up, until her stomach was empty and she was retching nothing. It was too late, but if any of the pills remained in her stomach, they were gone.

  Then she staggered to the bed and lay down. She was vaguely aware, before the pills carried her away, of the door opening briefly, and then closing again.

  Chapter 61

  As soon as the footsteps faded into silence, Jared was across the chamber to the girl, but he already knew he was too late. She was dead.

  Jared’s head was reeling.

  Just like that.

  Killed. Like a rat.

  And Becca? Was she lying in the cistern chamber, a bullet in her brain? There was a scraping sound from the tunnel, and the first glow of a light. He stood up, bracing himself.

  Becca emerged from the passage, jumping to her feet, her arm raised, ready to throw the stone she was holding. Then she saw him, and her hand dropped. ‘I heard . . . I thought he’d . . .’ Her face was very pale. He felt his throat constrict. Becca, charging to his rescue in this bleak and dangerous place, prepared to fight a gunman with a stone.

  ‘Becca. You’re safe. Oh Christ. Did he see you?’ It was an inane question. If GBH had seen Becca, she would be dead.

  ‘I heard him coming so I just kind of went into the shadows. He didn’t realise there was anyone there. It’s him, isn’t it, that guy from the caravan site? I heard a – like an explosion. What happened?’

  He had to get her out of there. He had to get them both out of there. The photos would have to wait. He couldn’t risk the flash from the camera – fuck knew where GBH had gone, but wherever it was, it was too close. ‘Yeah. He’s the one who’s been following us. I think. And he had something to do with the fire at your friend’s. I don’t know where he’s gone, but he’ll be coming back. We need to get out.’

  Becca looked across at the bodies lying against the wall. She moved towards them, and Jared stopped her. It was bad enough that he’d carry the memory of the girl’s murder for the rest of his life. There was no need for Becca to have it too. ‘There’s nothing you can do. We need to get out of here fast, before he comes back. He’s got a gun.’

  ‘Is that what I . . .’ She trailed off.

  Jared nodded. ‘Tell you later. We need to move.’

  He sent Becca through in front of him, hustling them through the cistern chamber, moving along the ledge as quickly as he could. He thought about releasing the rope and hauling it in – anything to slow GBH down – but decided against it. He didn’t want the man to know anyone had b
een there.

  ‘This guy,’ he said to Becca in a low voice. ‘Last time I saw him, he had a sidekick with him. At least one. He might have left someone here, or there might be someone at the entrance to the mine. We’ve got to be careful.’

  She nodded.

  Jared switched off his torch and indicated to Becca to do the same. They stood still in the pitch dark as he listened. This is what it must have been like for that girl, abandoned in the mine in a darkness that was so dense it seemed to press against your face.

  He had to stop thinking about it. He had to concentrate on getting them both out.

  All he could hear was the sound of water, a steady, monotonous drip . . . drip . . . drip with a slight echo. He could hear the whisper of Becca’s breath. Nothing else. He switched his torch on again. ‘OK. Let’s go.’

  They moved into the final chamber. Jared climbed carefully up the slope to the exit. There was no surreptitious way of getting out – he moved as quickly as he could and, in a matter of seconds, was standing on the cliff side. It was deserted. He called down to Becca, and in a minute, she was standing beside him. He put his arm round her, and she leaned into him, just for a moment. ‘I think we’re OK.’

  They’d pick up the car and go to the police. OK, they didn’t have the photos, but the police couldn’t ignore their story. They’d have to go into the mine, check it out. Then no one could suspect him and Becca of being involved.

  As they moved across the cliff face, finding their way back up to the headland, he caught sight of something from the corner of his eye. He twisted around to look but there was nothing there. Something was wrong. He could feel adrenaline rushing through his veins, his body going into high alert.

  Something was very wrong.

  He moved closer to Becca and whispered, urgently. ‘Hurry up. We need to get off this cliff.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I don’t know. Something.’

  She seemed to trust his instinct, and they both moved on quickly, Jared following Becca closely, helping her up the tricky bits, help she accepted without objection.

  Once they were on the path, he felt a bit better. But he wanted to get them away from the Ness as fast as possible. ‘I’ve got to take these boots off,’ Becca said. She was limping a bit – unfamiliar boots could rub your feet badly.

  ‘OK. Go to the tent and get some shoes. I’ll bring the car round. Couple of minutes.’

  Becca nodded. ‘Just – before you go. What happened? In the cave, when the caravan man came in?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Down there. Something happened. That man. He shot at something, didn’t he?’

  ‘OK.’ The sky was clear, the rain had stopped and the air smelt clean. He had something in his head now that would never go away, and he didn’t want to put it into Becca’s, but he had no right to keep it secret. ‘That girl, the second girl, the one whose face wasn’t . . .’

  ‘In that little room thing?’

  ‘Yeah. She wasn’t dead. Not quite.’

  ‘And we left her there?’ Becca stopped in her tracks. ‘We’ve got to go—’

  ‘No. He shot her. Greaseball Harry, the caravan guy. He . . . He saw she was alive and he put a bullet in her head. Just like that.’

  Becca tipped her head back, her gaze following a seabird as it glided above them and out across the sea. Jared had never wanted more to have those wings, to be able to detach himself from this life and soar away into the heavens. He saw that Becca’s eyes were wet.

  He didn’t bother with the platitudes about how it wasn’t their fault, they hadn’t done it, there was nothing they could have done.

  He knew how she felt. He felt it too. He turned away to get the car.

  Chapter 62

  Becca sat on the groundsheet tugging off her boots. She’d tried calling Kay on her way back to the tent, but there was no answer. Jared was right, she knew he was right, they needed to get to the police, but in York they hadn’t believed her.

  Jared wouldn’t understand, but she needed to talk to Kay first, before they did anything. Kay might go off on one, but she made people listen. You didn’t tell Kay who she could talk to and where she could go – she just pushed doors open and banged on desks and in the end people gave her what she wanted just to make her go away. Becca wanted to see Kay. She needed her.

  It would be different if they had the photos, but they didn’t.

  She took out her phone and texted Kay.

  --Soz cant come this a.m.

  After a minute, her phone buzzed. Kay’s reply:

  --Thank you for letting me know. Can you come this afternoon? Xxx Kay

  It made it sound like a job interview. Can you come this afternoon not Get yourself over here. And the kisses. Kay was going soft.

  Becca rubbed her feet, listening for the car. What was taking Jared so long? The place they’d hidden it by the cottage wasn’t that far away. Maybe it wouldn’t start. She gathered her stuff together and stood up. Screw waiting. She’d walk up the path and meet him.

  ‘Well, isn’t this nice?’

  Becca spun round. Sauntering down the path towards her was Liam, looking as if Becca was the person he most wanted to see in all the world. Behind him came Terry, shoving Jared in front of him, Jared’s arm twisted up behind his back. There was a cut on Jared’s face, and what looked like a bruise forming around his mouth. ‘Hi Bex,’ Liam greeted her cheerfully. ‘Who are you spying on now?’

  The jeer in his voice made fury flood through her. How dare he talk to her like that. How dare he, how dare he hurt Jared! And she could tell by his grin that he knew exactly what she was feeling. And her rage seemed to amuse him. ‘What are you doing here?’ She was almost too angry to speak.

  ‘Looking for you, Becca. You’ve managed to get some people seriously pissed off.’

  Jared managed to break free, grunting with pain as he twisted away from Terry. Terry made a move, but Liam said sharply, ‘Let him go, Tez. She’ll get upset if you hurt lover boy.’

  Jared glared at Terry, rubbing his arm. ‘What the fuck was that about?’ He looked just as angry when he turned to Becca. ‘Who are they? They’ve got a van – they jumped me up in the car park. They knew we were here.’

  ‘They’re from the drop-in. They’re . . .’ She turned to Liam. ‘What did you do to Paige?’

  ‘He didn’t do anything to me, Becca. I’m fine.’ A small figure who had come down the path unobserved stepped out from behind Terry’s bulk.

  Paige.

  Paige alive. Paige unhurt.

  Paige looking pleased with herself.

  Chapter 63

  Jared watched Becca’s face register astonishment as she stared at the small figure standing on the path.

  Then Becca was across the path and just as Jared realised what she was going to do, she drew her arm back and slapped the girl across the face. The girl staggered back, froze in surprise, then she came back at Becca, reaching for Becca’s hair. ‘Ginger cunt! Bitch!’ she yelled.

  The smaller lad grinned, but he got hold of the girl’s arms and held her back as Jared moved quickly across to Becca, keeping an eye on the big lad who’d hit him when he’d resisted them. He owed that shit one. ‘Steady,’ Jared said, his eyes on the two lads and the girl. What was this all about?

  Becca was shouting at the girl. ‘I thought you were dead! I thought they’d killed you. We’ve been looking for you for days!’ She threw off Jared’s restraining hand. ‘It’s Paige,’ she yelled at him, trying to get past him, obviously mad enough for a full-out fight. ‘Fucking cow! I’ve been . . . I thought she was hurt.’

  ‘What’s up with her?’ Paige asked the group, looking genuinely puzzled. She rubbed her reddening cheek and shot Becca a look of resentment, but she didn’t try to attack again.

  ‘It’s just Bex, going off on one. She does that.’ The smaller lad was watching Becca as he spoke, assessing the effect of his words.

  Jared saw them hit home, but he a
lso saw Becca struggling to contain her anger, her lips moving silently. With visible effort, she got herself under control and stared furiously at the fair-haired girl.

  ‘You ran out on me,’ Becca said, her voice low and angry. ‘I thought you were the one who got hurt. How could you just go off with them like that?’

  ‘Yeah. Well. Liam looks out for me, not you,’ Paige spat.

  ‘Good luck with that,’ Becca muttered, but she seemed to be back in control. Jared was looking at the small lad; the one the girl, Paige, had called Liam. There was something familiar about him.

  Then he remembered.

  ‘I saw you,’ Jared said. ‘In the woods. A couple of nights ago. You were following someone.’

  ‘Yeah,’ the lad, Liam, said. ‘I wanted a word with the guy who owns the caravan site.’

  ‘Greaseball.’ Jared hadn’t meant to say it, but Liam grinned appreciatively at the nickname, a startling smile that made him look about twelve.

  ‘Yeah.’ Liam nodded. ‘Greaseball. That’s about right. He was walking back with someone I hadn’t seen before so I followed a bit to try and get a good look. But it was too dark.’

  Jared didn’t get it. ‘What’s he got to do with you?’ He was remembering now. They’d been at the caravan site too, this pair. Move it, mong! He remembered the bikes flashing past him as he struggled to stay upright.

  ‘We’re in business, me and that lot. Supposed to be. We’re, you know, supply side.’

  ‘What do you mean, supply side?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  Jared looked at the small girl beside him, Paige. She was sitting on the ground now, chewing her hair, looking like a school kid in a boring class. What was she? Fourteen? Fifteen? Jared wanted to run Liam to the cliff edge and kick him over.

  Becca, who had been listening in silence, spoke up. ‘I knew what you were doing,’ she said. ‘I knew it!’

  Liam gave her a mock salute. ‘Give the lady a prize. You know all about this kind of thing, don’t you, Bexgirl?’

  ‘My name’s Becca, and I know what you did. You and him.’ She nodded towards the big lad, the one who had hit Jared, who was watching the scene in silence. ‘Tez,’ She spat the name, making it sound like an obscenity.