by Lake, Alex
A friend.
Which friend?
There was another few minutes delay.
I can’t say. Not until you agree to call it off. I can come for you later today. Don’t be frightened, Annabelle. He won’t be able to hurt you. You’ll be safe, finally.
She heard footsteps upstairs, and then the sound of Matt coming down the stairs. She moved the cursor to the delete button. Her hand was shaking.
She deleted the message, and then blocked the sender.
The door opened, and Matt came in. He leaned down and kissed her.
‘Is there more coffee?’ he said.
‘I made a pot. There’s plenty left.’
He looked at her half-empty mug. ‘Want a refill?’
3
‘Did you mention it to Matt?’ Miriam, her oldest friend and maid-of-honour – a title which sounded vaguely ridiculous to Annabelle, given the number of boyfriends Miriam had been through – sipped her prosecco. They had been at the wedding dress shop, getting the final alterations done, and were having a celebratory drink in a wine bar in Liverpool.
‘Not yet.’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t want to piss him off.’
‘You haven’t done anything,’ Miriam said.
‘I’m not worried he’ll be angry at me. I just – I don’t know. I didn’t say anything this morning and then I came out to meet you. I’ll probably tell him tonight. Not that there’s much to tell.’
‘Who do you think it was?’
Annabelle shrugged. ‘I have no idea. Truly.’
‘Maybe one of your many fans,’ Miriam said. ‘A stalker. Now you’re a literary celebrity.’
‘I think I have about five fans,’ Annabelle said. ‘At least, that’s what the sales of my books would indicate.’
‘The new one’s doing OK,’ Miriam said.
‘Kind of,’ Annabelle said. ‘But it’s not exactly flying off the shelves. It’s not on most shelves.’ Every time she passed a bookshop she went in to see if Deep Cover was there. It was not. Guy had told her not to worry; writing careers took time to build. He quoted a statistic about how many thousands of books were published each year, and how many titles bookshops bought.
The upshot was that there were a lot more published than appeared on the shelves.
So the fact you’re not in every bookshop in the country is not a problem, OK?
It was a valiant effort, but it didn’t make her feel much better.
‘So, not a fan,’ Miriam said. ‘But then who?’
‘I can’t think of anyone. And all this “I’ll rescue you” stuff – it’s weird.’
‘I can think of two possibilities,’ Miriam said. ‘It’s a joke, in which case you have to figure out who has such a crappy sense of humour, or it’s a test. Someone wants to see if you are truly committed to the marriage.’
‘No one has a sense of humour that crappy. And as for a test – who would think I need rescuing? I love Matt, and anyone who knows the first thing about us knows that.’ She sipped her drink. ‘If it is a joke, I’ll bloody murder whoever did it.’
Miriam puffed out her cheeks. ‘Matt might want to test you.’
‘Maybe. But he wouldn’t do this. It’s not like him.’
‘No,’ Miriam said. ‘But this is a big moment, and people do strange things. He may want to be one hundred per cent sure. I know it’s unlikely, but of the two’ – she shrugged – ‘that’s where I’d put my money.’
‘OK,’ Annabelle said. ‘I’ll talk to him.’
4
‘No,’ Matt said. ‘Of course I didn’t! Why would I do that?’
‘Miriam thought it may be a test,’ Annabelle said. ‘To see if I’m committed.’
‘It’d be a pretty shit test,’ Matt said. ‘A random person emails you and you say yeah, sure, I’ll run off with you. If I was going to try and test your commitment, I’d come up with something better than that.’
‘Then what is it?’
‘I don’t know. Can I see the emails?’
‘I deleted them.’
‘That’s OK,’ Matt said. ‘They’ll be in your deleted emails for a while.’
She opened her laptop and logged into her email account.
‘Here they are.’
He read the emails.
‘This is so weird,’ he said. ‘I mean, I could see someone declaring their undying love for you so that at least you knew they felt that way before you got married, in case you reciprocated. But this? This is just weird. They want to rescue you?’
‘Could it be a joke?’ Annabelle said.
‘It could. But by who, I have no idea.’ He laughed. ‘Whoever sent this is deluded. Deranged, even. There’s a crazy fucker out there monitoring your life.’
‘Matt!’ Annabelle punched him on his arm. ‘Don’t say that!’
‘It’s a joke!’
‘Well, it’s not funny. I’m scared! A bit, anyway.’
‘Why? You’re worried they may kidnap you before the wedding? I doubt it. It’s some idiot messing around. Probably someone who saw we were getting married, got your email address and wanted to mess with you. I doubt we even know them. Forget about it. If any more come, tell them to get lost.’ He kissed her. ‘It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.’
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘But make sure we lock the doors tonight, OK?’
Sunday, 8 March 2020, 4.55 p.m.
Annabelle
1
Annabelle closed her laptop. She and Matt were in the office looking for the emails to see if there was any clue to who had sent them, but they were all gone.
‘We should have paid more attention at the time,’ Matt said.
‘We were focused on the wedding,’ Annabelle said. ‘And they just stopped.’
‘Do you think they’re linked to this?’ Matt said.
‘I don’t know. They could be.’
Matt put his arm around her. ‘If they are,’ he said. ‘Then this goes back years.’
Annabelle closed her eyes. The idea that this had been bubbling away in the background for a decade or more was terrifying.
‘I don’t even want to think about that,’ she said. ‘It’s—’
Matt’s phone buzzed and he snatched it up.
‘It’s the kidnapper,’ he said. He tapped the screen. It glowed, reflected in his eyes.
When he looked up, his face was pale.
‘What is it?’ Annabelle said.
‘No,’ he said. ‘No, this can’t be true. It can’t.’
‘What is it?’ Annabelle said. ‘What does it say?’
Matt’s hand shook. He looked older, his eyes dull, his expression fixed. His smile was one of the first things she noticed when she met him. It was a full-face smile, his mouth wide, his cheeks high and his eyes bright. He almost looked startled, as though he was about to gasp in amazement or burst into fits of giggles. It was infectious and she had found herself smiling in return. It was part of what drew her to him; being with him was always fun.
Now, though, the smile was gone. He barely looked like himself. And this was only the start of this nightmare. Who knew what toll it would take by the end?
‘What does it say?’ she said.
‘Read it,’ he said, and passed her the phone.
The handover will take place at 5.30pm. You need to arrive – only the two of you, or the deal is off, without any negotiation – at the GPS coordinates I will send after you reply confirming you will be there.
You will find a gate. Stop there. Matt – get out of the car and open the gate, Annabelle – drive through the gate until told to stop. It will be obvious when that is.
Matt, wait until Annabelle and I have left. Then you can retrieve your children.
There is one other thing. Annabelle will be naked other than a bathrobe. She will have no belongings with her whatsoever. If this requirement is not met, or if there is any attempt to conceal a weapon or tracking device of any kind, the swap will b
e aborted.
‘That’s the end of the hammer,’ Annabelle said. ‘I’m going to be totally defenceless.’
They went into the living room. Rob and Brenda were standing by the window. Matt called into the kitchen for Mike and Tessa.
‘Another message,’ Annabelle said.
‘What is it?’ Rob said.
She gestured at the coat with the hammer-head sewn into the sleeve.
‘This is useless,’ she said. ‘I can’t take anything. No weapons. No phone. Nothing.’
‘That’s why it’s concealed,’ Brenda said. ‘So they won’t know you have it.’
‘They’ve thought of that. They want me to be naked. It’s in thirty minutes.’
Brenda gestured at the phone. ‘Can I see?’ she said.
Annabelle handed her the phone.
‘Well,’ Brenda said. ‘We still have the drone, and if it’s in thirty minutes it can’t be that far away. We need to be ready to go.’
‘You need to tell him you want to see the kids,’ Rob said. ‘Check they’re OK. This is very one-sided. It doesn’t feel great.’
‘What should I say?’ Annabelle said.
‘That you’ll be there, but you want to see the kids before you go through the gate.’
‘OK,’ she said, and began to type.
We will be there but need to see the kids before the swap. They need to be visible and safe.
She pressed send. Seconds later the reply came.
Not possible. I do not want your children. If you do as I say, they will be returned unharmed. If you do not, you will never see them again.
Annabelle closed her eyes. Her stomach contracted and she retched. In her hand the phone buzzed.
This is the only option. You have one minute to confirm these arrangements or it is off.
Rob read the message. ‘You have to go with it,’ he said. ‘This guy means business.’ He paused. ‘I’m sorry to be so blunt, but that’s how it seems to me.’
‘You sure?’ Brenda said. ‘If the children are hurt – or killed – there’s no deal. The only way the kidnapper gets what they want – Annabelle – is by keeping the kids safe.’ She put her hand on Annabelle’s arm. ‘We – you – could call their bluff.’
‘No,’ Annabelle said. ‘I’m not calling anyone’s bluff. Not when the price of getting it wrong is the lives of my children.’
‘Annabelle,’ Matt said. ‘We can’t do this. I can’t let you.’
‘You have no choice.’
He stared at her. ‘I can’t lose you,’ he said. ‘I can’t.’
‘I know.’ She reached for his hands. ‘But there’s no alternative.’
She typed a message.
Confirmed.
When the reply came, there were no words, just a set of GPS coordinates. She read them to Matt and he typed them into his phone.
The door opened and Mike walked in. He was followed by Tessa.
Matt held up the screen to show the map.
‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘That’s where it is.’
2
So, finally, the plan was this:
They would go to the rendezvous and follow the instructions they had been given. She would be defenceless and near-naked and alone. They would hope that their children were returned to Matt.
And then Brenda and the drones would follow her. She had three drones – enough for two hours – so they should be able to follow Annabelle until the police were informed and could go and get her.
She sat in the passenger seat. Matt drove, following the directions on the screen of his phone. They were in her blue, ten-year-old Golf. She was wearing a black dressing gown. Underneath she was naked. She had an image of the police stopping them and asking why she was dressed like that; it would be quite hard to explain.
Despite Matt sitting next to her, and all the activity at the house, she felt totally alone. In less than half an hour she’d be – what? A prisoner? Dead? She had no idea, and that terrified her.
Matt’s phone rang. The name of the caller came up on the screen.
‘It’s Sammy,’ she said.
‘I’ve not spoken to him in a while,’ Matt said.
‘You want to answer?’
He paused and she looked at him. He and Sammy had been very close in the years after they left university, but since the wedding – the stag party, actually – things had not been the same.
‘No,’ Matt said. ‘Let it go to voicemail. I’ll call him when this is all over.’
She put a hand on his knee and squeezed it.
‘Matt,’ she said. ‘I love you.’
He made a soft, strangled sound and she saw his lips quiver.
‘I love you too,’ he said.
‘You know, people talk about love at first sight and whether it’s possible, and I never say much, but I know it is. From the very first time we met I knew you were going to be special in my life. I didn’t know how special, but I knew you were different. Now, looking back, I know what that was. It was love.’
‘Annabelle,’ he said, his voice breaking. ‘You’re my life. I can’t imagine how I could carry on without you. I keep thinking about all the time we’ve been together. I can’t do it without you.’
She felt a sudden, shocking horror at the situation. She wanted to shrink to nothing, disappear. She wanted never to have existed.
‘I feel the same,’ she whispered. ‘You’ll be OK, I think. Make sure you tell the kids their mum loves them. Every day.’
‘I can’t think that way,’ he said. ‘We won’t lose you. We have the drones.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I know. But just in case. I want you to know that I love you and I trust you to bring up our children the right way.’
They approached a roundabout and a woman’s voice came from the phone.
Turn left at the next junction.
‘It’s down here,’ Matt said. ‘Another mile or so.’
She looked at the clock: 5.54.
Six minutes left with her husband.
Six minutes until her kids were safe.
They followed the road. It was lined with industrial units. After a few hundred yards it turned into a rutted track. It was unlit, and the car jolted as they hit potholes and rocks.
Somewhere above them, a drone tracked their progress. Half a mile or so behind them, Brenda and Rob watched the images it relayed to them. Mike and Tessa were parked beside them, waiting for the signal to come and get the kids.
Eventually the track turned left into a wooded area.
And there was the gate.
The woman’s voice came from the satnav. ‘You have reached your destination.’
They slowed to a stop. The clock on the dashboard showed 6 p.m.
Annabelle turned to Matt.
‘Bye,’ she said. ‘Goodbye, darling.’
Summer 2012
Sammy climbed on a chair in the middle of the room. He was holding a bottle of vodka in his right hand, and a cigarette in his left. His face was flushed, and he wobbled on the chair.
‘Oi!’ he shouted. ‘Everyone listen up!’
Matt and about twenty-five of his friends – some from university, some from home – were in a barn in North Wales, having spent the day at an adventure centre. During the morning they had run around a forest with paintball guns shooting each other; after a few beers at lunch they had spent the afternoon racing go-karts. The results were predictable. After a three-car pile-up two of the participants in Matt’s stag do had gone to hospital, one, a friend from work called Barry, with a broken wrist, and the other, Matt’s cousin, Simon, with a fractured elbow. Sammy, who was driving the third car, claimed to be fine, but had been walking with a limp ever since.
The guests gathered around Sammy.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘Now for the main event! Get over here, Matt.’
Matt glanced at Jason. ‘What is this?’ he said. ‘What’s he got planned?’
‘Don’t know,’ Jason said. ‘But I’m guessing i
t involves that vodka.’ He shrugged. ‘Sorry, mate. You put him in charge of your stag do.’
Matt walked over. Guy was standing on the edge of the group. He raised an eyebrow as Sammy jumped off the chair and pointed to it.
‘Take a seat,’ Sammy said, and handed him the vodka. ‘And have a swig of this. You’ll need it. Dutch courage.’
Matt laughed. ‘What are you planning?’ he said.
‘Sit down,’ Sammy replied. ‘You’ll see.’
Matt sat on the chair. As soon as he was seated, he saw Scott and Tony, two other Birmingham friends, step forward. He was surprised to see they were holding ropes – he wondered, for a moment, why they had them, before realizing it was obvious why – but before he could do anything, they had wrapped one around his chest and the other around his knees.
They pulled them tight.
‘OK,’ Sammy said. ‘Get ready, Matt! It’s your last week as a free man, and we’re going to give you a night to remember!’
The door to the barn opened and two women came in. They were dressed in very short silver dresses and high heels, and they were greeted by loud cheers.
‘Say hello to Lexi and Candy,’ Sammy said. ‘Come on in, girls.’
Matt caught Sammy’s eye. ‘I don’t think this is a great idea,’ he said. ‘I thought we agreed, no strippers?’
‘A stag do’s not a stag do without strippers,’ Sammy said. ‘Relax, mate.’
Lexi and Candy stood in front of him and started to sway backwards and forwards.
‘I’m Candy,’ the one on the left said.
‘And I’m Lexi.’
Lexi looked about his age; Candy was quite a bit older. She pulled down the straps of her dress and straddled him. She started to grind her pelvis against his, and pushed her breasts into his face.
He felt her nipples against his cheeks, and turned away.
‘Look,’ he said. ‘I really don’t want—’
Candy lifted her hips up and leaned against him. He felt hands move up his thighs to his belt.
‘Take them off!’ Sammy said. ‘Give him his treat!’
Matt squirmed in the chair but the ropes were too tight; besides, Candy was pinning him down.
