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No Place Like Home

Page 24

by Lynda Stacey


  After what seemed like an age, the door shot open, making her scramble backwards, and with a look that could have shattered glass, Charlie stood glaring at her. One hand was gripping tightly to the door jamb, the other was held out, palm up, and without saying a word, his piercing eyes demanded the weapon.

  ‘Oh, so now you want the gun, do you?’ she asked cockily.

  ‘It’s not my gun, it’s your mother’s, and I’m gonna prove what she did, what they both did, show her to be the cold-blooded murderer she really was.’ The words drove through her like a thunderbolt.

  ‘How can you say that? She did nothing wrong, apart from love you.’ She looked him directly in the eye, saw the way he looked right through her. It was a look that told her all she needed to know, and quickly she grabbed the gun from its box. She kept her eyes firmly on him, nervously pacing.

  ‘Oh, you think you can shoot me, do you?’ he mocked. ‘Come on then. Be a big girl. Give it your best shot.’ He laughed, a slow, guttural laugh. ‘You get one chance to pull the damn trigger.’ He pursed his lips, shook his head. ‘But don’t forget,’ he smiled smugly, ‘that gun’s been stored for years. So you must know that the second you pull that trigger that little beauty’ll backfire so fast that you, young lady, will be dead – in – seconds.’ He slowed his words, enjoyed saying them.

  Beth felt herself sway with fear. Tried to concentrate on the gun. The way the gun’s barrel moved around so much in her trembling hands, her chances of her hitting anything was more than remote. But still, she couldn’t move. Her breathing slowed. She took a step towards the door. Watched Charlie match her, step for step, making her wish the room was bigger. That there was more space between her and Charlie. That she could leave without the confrontation. Knowing that if she could just get to the door, she’d have a chance of outrunning him. A chance of getting away, of alerting Molly, or Jackson.

  ‘You – you need to get out of my way. I – I’m going home.’ She tried to swallow but couldn’t. Her mouth had gone dry, her mind pounded and wouldn’t stop. ‘You can’t keep me here. I… I will shoot you.’

  ‘No, you won’t.’ Pushing his lips out in a pout, he rolled his eyes. Grabbed a small cardboard box. Threw it and its contents at her, then laughed hysterically as she screamed, dropped the gun to the floor, saw it land just inches from his feet. ‘See, I told you,’ he said smugly. ‘You don’t even know how to fire the fucking thing, do you?’ He reached forward, picked it up. Turned it over and over in his hand. ‘You were too stupid to kill me, just like your father was.’

  Beth felt the floor move beneath her feet. Her legs became weak. She couldn’t stand. Held onto the wall and tried to balance. ‘But… but… you’re my dad, you—’

  ‘No, I’m not.’ He tapped the barrel of the gun against his temple. ‘That might be what she told you. When she died, she took the damn truth with her. Didn’t she?’ He slowly and distastefully looked her up and down. ‘I tried to convince myself she’d been faithful, and for years, I did. But the minute I saw you leaning against that tractor, I knew the truth. I could see that bastard, Michael, in you. You’re his fucking double.’

  ‘What? Why would you say this?’ Lifting a hand, she dragged it across her face, wiped away her tears, remembered the photograph similar to the one he’d stole, the one of their mother years before, sitting on the lawn, looking up lovingly at Michael. Sniffing, she felt her whole world collapse around her like shards of broken glass, shattering around her ankles. ‘She loved me. She’d have told me the truth. I just know she would.’ Her voice wobbled and her mind spun until she felt as though she’d climbed onto a fairground ride that was spinning faster and faster and wouldn’t stop.

  ‘Really, did she ever mention how she set me up, how they set me up? How I ended up inside? While they walked free, leading separate lives? Did they ever tell you how Michael’s first wife died, how she was shot in the back?’

  Shaking her head, Beth furrowed her brow. She didn’t understand, didn’t want to understand.

  ‘He stood in the witness box. Swore on the damned Bible. Said he saw me shoot her. Robbed the house, took her jewellery and miraculously, her necklace was found hidden in our loft, right next to where your mother had told me to hide.’ Turning, he punched the wall, cursed.

  ‘So, if you were innocent…’ She stuttered the words, remembered the day the police had burst through the door, dragged him out of the house. ‘Why did you hide?’ She barely dared ask the question. Her eyes constantly stared at the gun. At his eyes. At the madness behind them.

  ‘I never said I was an angel. I knew they’d come after me one day, but I didn’t shoot anyone. Stupid. It was the two of them, concocting a plan. Wanted both me and Michael’s wife out of the way.’ He began nervously tapping his foot against the skirting board. ‘I’m amazed you never went on the internet, looked it all up.’ He paused, swallowed. ‘I warned her. I told her I’d be watching. Waiting. That I’d have my revenge, and I did.’

  Shaking inside, Beth inched ever closer to the door. ‘I didn’t look at the internet because I didn’t want to remember. That day, the day you left. I thought you were going on a holiday, that you’d be back and when you didn’t, I wanted to forget. But now you’re innocent?’ she questioned, childlike. Tried to smile. ‘I can help you. We can go to the police. We can tell them what we know, give them the gun, clear your name.’

  Sweeping another box to the floor, he began to laugh as the contents shattered. Large pieces of crockery spilled out. ‘God. You really are naïve, aren’t you?’ He fixed his jaw, ran a hand through his peppered hair. ‘I’m not stupid, I’d never get to clear my name. Not now. Not after what I’ve done,’ he hissed. ‘I had them both killed. I took my revenge, made sure they knew why they had to die, why it was their turn.’ He shook his head, waved the gun around in the air. ‘If that came out, I’d go to prison, stay there for the rest of my life, and I can’t let that happen, can I? Not again. Not now.’

  Holding onto the wall, Beth made a conscious effort to breathe, each breath was pulled in as though it were her last. Every part of her wanted to leave, to go home, to learn how to surf. She even wanted to get to know Niall, to stop arguing with Molly and to go to the school she’d initially hated. A school that right now, right at this moment, didn’t seem as bad as it had.

  ‘Fucking masterplan, wasn’t it? To get me out of the picture and with the gun gone, there was nothing I could do to prove my innocence. Not with a witness who swore I’d done it.’ He paused, tapped the wall with the gun. ‘You see, they’d been childhood sweethearts, much too young to cope and Molly, she was born before they left school. They didn’t stand a chance, not really, and went their separate ways. Michael went off to university and your mother, well, she was disgraced, left to bring Molly up alone, and when she married me, she pretended none of it had happened. And I thought, I really thought we were happy.’

  He paused, stared at the gun. ‘But then, after a visit to the beach, she started to see him again, mostly from a distance, an odd wave, a friendly stroll. Sometimes with Molly. Sometimes alone. Told me she wanted to go walking, wanted to take time for herself, blow the damned cobwebs away.’ Another low guttural sound left his body. ‘They said I’d been engulfed with jealousy, that I’d aimed for him, and missed, hitting his wife with the bullet. Do you know how much I lost that day?’ He looked up, screamed. ‘I lost everything. And do you know what she did – she laughed. She made a big thing of telling me how she’d never forgotten him. How he’d been her first. Her only love. How you were his too, how both her girls had the same fucking daddy.’ He paced back and forth to the top of the stairs. Looked down. Walked back. ‘I didn’t want to believe it. Couldn’t believe it and I didn’t. Not till I saw you.’ He looked into her eyes as he spoke, but the emotion was gone. Now there was nothing but resentment, nothing but hatred.

  ‘She’d have told me. She’d have told Molly. I mean, why keep it a secret?’ Beth thought of the years that Molly had wishe
d for a father, of her mother’s stories, of how he’d left, gone off to university and was suddenly killed in a tragic, meaningless accident.

  ‘Well, she didn’t, did she? For whatever reason they had, she kept it a secret, paid for what she did, and I warned her. I told her she’d pay, and she did. They both did.’

  He pressed his lips tightly together. ‘And now you’re the final link and you – you have to pay too.’

  Beth heard the noise before she felt the pain. Her whole body shuddered violently. Heat burned through her. Like a poker, hot and red from the fire. Her hands went up and then, in slow motion, she dropped to her knees, doubled up in pain and saw the floor rush up to meet her. Lying with her cheek pressed to the floorboards, she gasped for breath, saw Charlie drop to his knees, lie on the floor beside her.

  ‘I want to see you die.’ He stared into her eyes. ‘I want to see your pain. And then I’ll dump your body. Like rubbish. Where no one will find you.’

  Falling in and out of consciousness, Beth felt the life draining from her. She couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. Rolled her eyes to give Charlie a cold, hard, stare. ‘You… promised,’ she managed to say, ‘you… promised… you’d never… hurt me.’

  ‘No… what I said was that I’d never hurt you while you were my girl, well you’re not my girl, Beth, are you?’ he said, with a twisted, deceitful smile. Then, with a final look into Charlie’s deep, evil eyes, Beth sank deeper and deeper, as the darkness descended around her.

  47

  As the sky began turning dark with black, moody clouds, Molly stared at the luminous digits of the clock, realised that it was still relatively early, and that the darkness made it feel much later. But with Beth still missing and the police now hunting for Dan, she couldn’t rest, and only the pounding of her own heart in her chest filled her mind, as she watched each minute disappear, only to be replaced by the next.

  Walking to the window at the back of the house, she ran a hand across the bags she’d packed earlier and stared at the beach, at the sea that now rolled in, with a tide so volatile, so choppy that even the surfers had given up and gone home. Only Niall could be seen. He’d taken Dillon for a last-minute dash. But he constantly returned his gaze to hers, to the window where he knew she stood. Each time he caught her eye, they’d share a wave, a connection joined by an invisible thread. Since her phone had been smashed on the rocks, it was the only way of keeping contact, of him knowing she was there, that she was safe, and constantly watching.

  Hearing the sound of the front door springing open, Molly jumped up. Felt a relief flood through her that was quickly followed by terror as she heard footsteps stamp on the hallway mat, footsteps much too loud to be Beth’s. Knowing that Niall was still on the beach, she crept around the edge of the room, stood behind the door and with her heart pounding louder, stronger, and more viciously than it had before, she held her breath. Felt as though with every beat her heart was trying to escape, along with a small artery in her temple that throbbed uncontrollably. Terrified of making noise, she tried to scour the room through the darkness, tried to find a weapon, anything she could use to protect herself but felt unable to move, and she placed a hand on the door handle, held onto it tightly and while looking between the small crack between the door and the jamb, she kept one eye on the hallway. She saw Charlie creeping towards her.

  ‘Where the hell’s my sister?’ she screamed, used the door as a weapon, launched it as hard and as quickly as she could, felt the resistance as the door slammed into Charlie and propelled him backwards, to land heavily against the balustrade, gasping for air.

  ‘You bitch,’ he attempted to shout. His hands went to his face and even though the house stood in semi-darkness, she could see his wide eyes, his face contorted with anger.

  Regaining his composure, Charlie threw himself towards her, immediately grabbing at her throat, squeezing tightly. The pressure grew tighter and with eyes that locked onto hers, she felt the blood pound through her veins. She couldn’t scream. Couldn’t breathe. The pain increased. Everything turned into a dark, terrifying blur.

  ‘I’m gonna fucking kill you.’ His words were venomous, came through gritted, yellowing teeth. The tip of his nose pressed violently against hers, the look in his eyes one of pure hatred and without warning his head went backward, thrust forward. Her mind exploded with an instantaneous pain that tore through every millimetre of her face. She fell to the floor and while gasping for breath, she saw the blood that covered her hands and even though he’d let go, she felt the pain accelerate. She grabbed at anything she could. Anything within reach. Tried to claw her way along the hallway, gain momentum, saw the blood splattered handprints that now covered the once cream carpet.

  ‘P-p-please,’ she begged, sobbed. ‘Don’t kill me.’

  He hovered over her, his hands raking through his hair. His eyes, deep, dark, seething. ‘You’re just like your mother. Do you know that?’ He turned, swept a crystal vase off the hallway shelf, laughed as it dropped to the floor, caught the skirting board and made a loud and unexpected noise, then laughed as Molly curled herself into a tight and terrified ball. ‘I hear that she begged for her life, too.’

  ‘She didn’t deserve to die, she… she was a good mother. She loved us.’

  ‘She loved no one.’ Charlie’s voice hit a new range. A strangled scream that came from deep within. ‘No one, except for him, for that bastard. Well,’ he laughed, a blood-curdling hideous laugh, ‘he got his comeuppance, too. He got what he deserved, all planned to perfection, all happened before my release. All done in a way they couldn’t blame me.’

  Crawling backwards, Molly closed her eyes, felt the pain within. ‘Where’s my sister?’ she screamed as fear sped through her body. She scrambled to the door, her eyes searching for Beth, all the time praying she’d stay away, that she wouldn’t come home, not at this moment, not until Charlie was gone.

  ‘Who, Beth?’ He laughed, a long, shrill laugh that came from his boots. ‘Silly girl held a gun on me, tried to shoot me.’ He stopped laughing, lowered himself to the floor, to where he could look Molly straight in the eye. ‘She should never have done that. Should she?’

  A long, shrill, internal scream took over her mind, a surge of adrenaline quickly coincided with a fury she didn’t know she had. ‘And that… that was your final mistake, you bastard,’ she screamed as she launched herself forward, clawed at Charlie’s eyes, felt his fist once again connect with her face.

  ‘Get away from her, you fucking animal…’ Dan’s voice came from nowhere. ‘You promised… if I did what you said, you promised… you said you’d keep them safe. You said you wouldn’t allow them to come to any harm… yet you… you killed her anyway.’ The scream was low and guttural, full of pain, interspersed with sobs. ‘Beth did nothing wrong to you, nothing and I… I did everything you asked. I tried to keep her and Molly safe and now… it was all for nothing. I killed them for nothing.’

  His hands were suddenly on Charlie’s neck. The two of them fell through the doorway, until they landed heavily on the grass in a ball of fists and fury. Jumping to his feet, Dan gave Molly a final look, his eyes connected momentarily with hers, the look of sorrow clear to see. ‘Run… get out of here, get out of here now,’ Dan screamed as he rushed at Charlie with a series of rugby tackles that were attempted and failed. Each man a good match for the other.

  Sobbing, Molly dragged herself through the door on her belly. She couldn’t stand up, could barely see through the swelling that surrounded her eyes and face. She knew that Beth was hurt, that she had to find her, had to get to her. ‘Where is she?’ she screamed and then held her breath as both Charlie and Dan neared the cliff, each throwing a punch. One at a time, moving backwards. Then, with a blood-curdling scream, she saw Dan disappear over the edge. One minute he was there and then he was gone, and now Charlie stood, looking over, the hideous sound of his laughter bellowing above the sound of the waves.

  With a determination she didn’t know she had,
Molly pulled herself up, took deep, inward breaths, and with her arms outstretched and the passion of a raging bull, she made a vehement dash at Charlie. She wanted to push him over the edge, to put an end to the now, to the past. But her mind spun, her energy failed, she fell to her knees, and as a cry left her throat, she clawed at the grass, pulled herself closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. Until she saw him. Dan. All twisted and broken on the rocks below, blood seeping into the sand. The sight made her retch with emotion, and once again she threw herself forward, grabbed at Charlie’s leg. ‘You bastard…’ A sob left her throat as he spun towards her, physically lifted her from the floor to look her directly in the eye.

  ‘You thought you were real fucking clever, didn’t you?’ His voice hissed through his teeth as he threw her back down. ‘Well, we’ll see who’s so clever now, won’t we?’

  Screaming, she felt his boot connect with her ribs. Unsure what part of her to protect next and without knowing where his boot would land, she frantically made an attempt to protect every single part of her body, all at once. Thoughts flew through her mind at speed. Her eyes were fixed on his feet, on the edge of the cliff, on all the things that lay around the garden, the railway sleepers that ironically stood, stacked by the gate and much too heavy for her to use as a weapon. ‘Where’s my sister? I want to know where she is!’

  He gave her a sideward glance, curled his lip. ‘She’s down there, at the house. Was making herself a nice little nest with young Jackson, she was. Well, now… she’s gone, dead, just like she deserved.’

 

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