by C. L. Taylor
‘My housemate,’ Ursula says. ‘It’s a long story but basically—’
‘Is it a woman? Is she called Flora?’
Ursula shakes her head. ‘No. His name’s Edward.’
‘Edward who?’
‘Bennett,’ Ursula says, remembering the name she saw on the tenancy agreement.
Alice looks at her blankly. The name’s not ringing any bells.
‘Who is he?’ she asks Simon.
He shakes his head. ‘I’ve got absolutely no idea.’
‘And you trust her?’ She gestures towards Ursula. ‘You know she’s a shoplifter? I wouldn’t trust a word she says.’
‘Can we just go?’ Simon looks pained. ‘Please? She’s got evidence. We need to take it to the police.’ He points at the shutters. They’re all the way down. ‘How do we get those things open again?’
‘We don’t,’ Alice says. ‘We leave through the back. Come on, I’ll show you.’
‘Right,’ Alice says as they reach the back door to the shop. ‘I’ll let you two out but I’m going to need another five to ten minutes to tell Lynne she can go, get rid of the three people in the changing rooms and explain to my area manager that I need to leave urgently.’ She takes a breath. Her brain is whirling at a hundred miles an hour. It’s torture, having to wait to find out more about the man who’s been making her life a misery for the last week, but she can’t just abandon the shop. She needs to do her job. ‘Wait for me in the car park, by my car.’ She looks at Simon. ‘White VW Golf?’
He nods.
‘Great.’ She pulls on the handle to the back door, then swears under her breath. ‘Sorry. It’s locked. The keys are in the office. Wait here for a sec.’
Ursula waits with Simon for all of two or three seconds, then hurries after Alice. She obviously doesn’t like or trust her and she wants to talk to Alice before they go to the police station, to apologise for stealing from her shop.
‘Alice! Alice!’ she calls softly as she jogs round the corner, sweating under the weight of her winter coat, one hand clutching her ribs. But Alice is way ahead of her. She’s already at the other end of what looks like a staff changing room and approaching a small office with a closed door and Venetian blinds at the window.
‘Alice!’ she says again but her shout is lost in Alice’s scream.
It all happens so quickly. One minute Ursula is watching Alice step into the room and the next she’s gone, yanked inside by an arm that appears from behind the door and hooks itself around her throat. Before Ursula can react, before her stunned brain can process what she just saw, a man steps into the doorway with Alice in his grip.
Ursula blinks, then blinks again. The man standing about four metres from her is holding a knife in his right hand. He’s small and slight with little round specs that make his eyes seem bigger than they are.
Ed.
His eyebrows flash upwards in surprise as he meets her gaze, but then his face is a blank again. The muscles in Ursula’s thighs twitch and her heart pounds in her chest. She needs to get out, to get help, to—
‘Stay where you are.’ Edward casually moves the knife to the base of Alice’s neck. ‘Or I’ll cut her throat. You can come out now!’ he shouts to someone standing out of sight.
A woman with a dark bob wearing a pink Mirage blouse stumbles out of the office on shaking legs. Ursula’s seen her before. It’s Lynne, the woman who chucked her out of the changing room the other day.
‘Sit!’ Ed orders, gesturing at the ground at his feet.
A sob catches in Lynne’s throat as she does as she’s told. ‘Alice, I’m sorry. He locked me in the office when I went in with a coffee. He wouldn’t let me leave.’
‘Enough.’ Ed’s gaze flicks towards Ursula. ‘You need to sit down too.’
He smiles as she walks towards him on unsteady legs and lowers herself onto the cold lino and gathers her knees to her chest. ‘Right then, Alice. I think it’s time your boyfriend joined us. Don’t you?’
Chapter 50
Alice
When Ed tells Alice to shout Simon’s name she doesn’t say a word. Not because she doesn’t want to, but because she physically can’t speak. The crook of his elbow is pulled so tightly around her throat she’s struggling to breathe. Her fingers are gripping his arm but she’s given up trying to yank it away because it makes him tighten his grip and tip the point of the knife into her cheek. He’s a short man but taller than her and she can hear his breath in her ear and feel his body pressed up against her back.
‘Shout Simon’s name,’ Ed says again.
‘She can’t,’ Ursula says from the floor. She and Lynne are sitting cross-legged in front of Alice. Lynne’s head is bowed and she’s weeping quietly. But Ursula’s not afraid to look Ed in the eye, even though he’s told them both that if they speak they die. ‘You’re holding her too tightly.’
‘When I want your opinion I’ll ask for it,’ Ed snaps, but he releases his grip on Alice’s neck the tiniest amount. ‘Don’t try anything,’ he hisses. ‘Don’t shout anything apart from “Simon! I need a word.” If you say anything else I will slash your throat and then your friends’. Do we understand each other?’
She nods, or as much as she can.
‘Go on then,’ he urges. ‘Shout for your boyfriend.’
Alice’s first shout is little more than a shrill squeak. Fear has closed her voicebox and she feels light-headed and hot.
‘Again,’ Ed says, releasing his grip a little more. ‘Louder this time.’
‘Simon!’ Alice shouts, her voice breaking as she says his name. ‘I need a word.’
A hush falls over the small room as they listen for a response. Even Lynne stops weeping. Alice feels sick with fear as she stares at the doorway, waiting for Simon to appear. What’s Ed going to do when he does show up? Slit her throat then turn the knife on him? She thinks of Emily, sitting in Helen’s front bedroom, sipping wine as she watches the street. She imagines her checking her watch, wondering where her mum has got to. She’s probably already texted to check that the plan is still in place. But Alice’s phone has been turned off. Ed made her do it while he watched, the knife tip pressing into her cheek. She had to turn Lynne’s phone off too.
Who will tell Emily that she’s dead? A police officer? Peter? Or will social media break the news first? She can’t die. She can’t leave Emily. She doesn’t want her daughter to deal with that kind of pain alone. A tear rolls down her cheek and she closes her eyes.
The sound of trainers squeaking on lino makes her open them again and she gasps as Simon appears in the doorway. His eyes flit from her to Ed and he stumbles backwards, his hands held away from his body, as though he’s trying to push away what he’s seeing.
‘You run and she dies,’ Ed says and Lynne lets out a terrified sob.
Simon freezes, his hands still outstretched.
‘Call the police and she dies,’ Ed says. ‘Do anything other than what I tell you and she dies.’
Simon swallows, then nods mutely.
‘Come into the room and sit down on the floor.’
As Simon steps forward on shaky legs, his arms now raised in surrender, Edward pulls Alice closer, his arm pressing against the cartilage of her windpipe, causing a wave of panic to flood her body. She claws desperately at his arm.
‘Is there anyone else in the shop?’ Ed asks her.
He releases his grip, just enough to let her talk and she gulps down air.
He increases the pressure again. ‘I said, is there anyone else in the shop?’
This time, when he loosens his hold she releases all the air in her lungs to say, ‘No.’
As the word leaves her mouth she believes it. She genuinely believes there isn’t anyone else in the building, but then she remembers Gareth the security guard, the beautician, and the teenager that she left in the customer changing cubicle and her fingers tremble against Edward’s arm. What if they walk into the room next? Will Ed kill her for lying? Please, she prays as Simon si
ts on the floor beside Lynne, please stay wherever you are.
‘You.’ Edward kicks out at Lynne, making her screech with fear. ‘There’s tape and nail scissors in my bag. Use them to bind the hands of the other two.’
‘Whatever this is about,’ Simon says, ‘I’m sure we can—’
The words are knocked out of his mouth as Edward’s boot connects with the side of his head. The kick makes the arm around Alice’s throat tense and for two or three terrifying seconds, she can’t breathe.
‘I will tell you when you can speak,’ Ed barks at Simon as Alice lifts her chin, gulping for air. ‘You!’ He points the knife at Lynne, who’s holding a roll of black duct tape and some rounded nail scissors. ‘Do his hands first.’
Fresh tears roll down Alice’s cheeks as Lynne binds Simon’s hands, then Ursula’s. When Simon first appeared in the doorway she felt a flurry of hope. He was bigger than the man with the knife to her cheek. He could overpower him. He could make it all stop. But he didn’t. He walked into the room like a lamb and sat down on the floor. And now his wrists are bound and there’s nothing he can do to help her.
‘Alice’s next,’ Ed orders and Alice holds out her hands for her friend to bind.
‘I’m sorry,’ Lynne whispers. As their eyes meet, Alice sees the terror she feels reflected back at her.
‘You will be if you keep talking,’ Ed snaps as Lynne finishes hacking at the tape with the nail scissors. ‘Right. Your turn.’
He shoves Alice roughly to the ground. With her hands bound, she hits the floor elbow first, but she doesn’t groan or scream. She swallows the pain and twists into a sitting position. Simon, beside her, nudges her gently but she doesn’t turn to look at him. All her attention is focused on the knife Edward has just put on the table to her right so he can bind Lynne’s hands. Although Alice’s wrists are taped together, her hands are still free. If she could just get hold of that knife then Ed will be defenceless. Four against one. They should be able to overpower him.
As Ed winds the black tape around Lynne’s wrists, Alice looks to her left. She makes eye contact with Ursula first, swivels her eyes towards the knife, then looks back and raises her eyebrows. Ursula raises her eyebrows too and gives the smallest of nods. Alice nudges Simon, who’s been watching the exchange. He looks over at the knife and frowns. He seems conflicted, but Alice hasn’t got time for him to make up his mind. Edward has nearly finished cutting through the duct tape with the nail scissors. If she doesn’t make a grab for the knife now it’s going to be too late.
Her heart thumps against her ribs as she shuffles on the floor, moving from a cross-legged position to knees bent, feet to one side. She freezes as Ed stops cutting the tape and glances at her. She bows her head, eyes fixed on the ground, waiting for a kick or a blow. When none comes she risks a sideways glance. To get to the knife she’s going to have to get onto her knees and lunge, arms outstretched. If she can knock the knife off they can rush at Ed as he tries to pick it up. She steels herself. She’s got to do it, now.
In an instant she’s up on her knees and throwing herself at the table but she underestimated how far away it is and her bound hands land six inches from the knife. She frantically shuffles forward but, as her fingers graze the edge of the blade, it’s snatched away from her and Ed’s angry roar fills her ears.
‘Stupid bitch!’ The knife curves through the air, then slices through the thin material of her blouse and cuts into her skin.
Chapter 51
Gareth
Gareth is crouched in the cubicle with a finger to his lips when he hears the scream. Georgia, still curled in the corner, shrieks with fear, then makes a strange gulping sound as her mum smothers the sound with her hand.
‘Ssssh,’ Kath whispers. ‘Georgia, ssssh.’
Gareth doesn’t think his heart has ever beaten as quickly as it is right now. He’s been trained for all sorts of situations over the years – fires, terrorist attacks, natural disasters – but never anything like this. He never dreamed there’d be a hostage situation in the Meads. He’s not sure what it was exactly that made him realise something dodgy was going on. Maybe it was his training or some kind of sixth sense. Earlier, when Kath was trying to get Georgia to open up about what had happened, he caught snippets of a conversation as three people, a man and two women, passed the cubicles. Something about a stalker and taking evidence to the police. He left Kath and her daughter in the cubicle. telling them to stay where they were, and peered between the clothing racks at the end of the stalls, watching as the red-haired shop manager led a very tall woman and a blonde-haired man towards the back of the shop. If everyone was leaving, he needed to remind Alice to let them out too.
But no one left. Instead he heard someone double back, heading to the staff changing room and a woman calling Alice’s name. It went quiet for a few minutes, then a different female voice shouted, ‘Simon.’ There was something about the strangled way she called the name that made the hairs stand up on Gareth’s arms. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. He crept out from behind the racks of clothes and stepped quietly through the back of the shop, keeping against the wall. He froze when he heard weighty footsteps, trainers slapping against the ground. Simon, running after hearing his name? Gareth waited a few seconds, then set off again. As he drew closer to the staff changing rooms he heard a new voice – male, clipped, posh – saying, ‘Do anything other than what I tell you and she dies.’
Instinctively Gareth clutched at the radio, clipped to his belt. But it wasn’t there. He wasn’t on duty and wearing his uniform. He had no weapon and no way of radioing for help. Unless … in his mind he sees Kath clutching her phone in the car, repeatedly dialling Georgia’s number. If she still had battery left he could call the police.
Now, with the scream still ringing in his ears, he presses 999 on Kath’s phone and holds it to his ear. It connects almost instantly.
‘Emergency, which service do you require?’ the operator asks. ‘Fire, Police or Ambulance?’
‘Police,’ Gareth says.
‘Connecting you now.’
Gareth stares at the cubicle curtain as the call connects. It’s the only thing separating him from whatever madman is holed up in the staff changing rooms. He’s standing now, with Kath and Georgia crouched behind him, both breathing hard.
‘What is the telephone number you are calling from?’ the police operator asks him.
‘I don’t know,’ he hisses. ‘And I haven’t got time to talk. There’s a potential hostage situation in the —’
He gasps as two things happen at once. The curtain is yanked aside and Alice stares in at him with terrified eyes, the sleeve of her blouse slashed, her arm drenched with blood. There’s a man standing behind her with an arm around her throat and a knife pressed to her cheek. His eyes meet Gareth’s. ‘End the call.’
Chapter 52
Ursula
There was a moment, after Ed locked Ursula, Simon and Lynne in the office so he and Alice could search the shop for stragglers, when Ursula thought they might be able to escape. There was no laptop or landline in the cramped room because Ed made Lynne remove them before he locked them inside. He also gathered up everyone’s bags and mobile phones. He called Ursula a liar when she told him hers had been stolen by a man who’d barged into their house searching for his wife and child. It was only when she described the inside of Ed’s room that his expression changed.
‘You can pat me down if you don’t believe me,’ she said, raising her bound arms above her head.
He grimaced – ‘I’d rather not’ – and ordered her into the office.
As the lock turned outside she and Simon headed straight for the narrow window. They were two storeys up and there were people milling around on the pavement below. If they could just open it, they could shout for help.
‘Don’t bother,’ Lynne said miserably as Ursula pulled at the handle. ‘He made me lock it. He’s got the key.’
Simon suggested they try and smash the gla
ss with the office chair but his hands were bound and it took him forever just to pick it up. Even when he did manage to lift it, his awkward throw was so feeble the chair bounced off the pane. They tried hitting the glass then, smashing their fists against it and shouting, but it was double glazed and the people on the street below didn’t so much as glance up.
They were still trying to decide what to do when the key turned in the lock and a terrified-looking woman in a beautician’s uniform told them to come out. For one wonderful second Ursula thought they’d been rescued, but then she noticed that the woman’s hands were bound too. As she filed out of the office with Simon and Lynne she saw a short man with a goatee standing beside a crying young girl. They both had their hands tied with tape.
Standing at the far side of the staff changing room, with one arm around Alice’s throat and the knife pressed into her cheek, was Edward.
‘It turns out Alice was lying,’ he announced to the room. ‘Which is a shame … for her. Now that we’re all assembled, let’s make our way out on to the shop floor. The show is about to begin.’
Ursula, sitting cross-legged against a wall, has Gareth on one side of her and Simon on the other. Sitting beside Simon is Lynne with her head in her hands, then Kath with her daughter weeping beside her. Standing between the racks of clothes, with one arm still around Alice’s neck and the knife pressed under her jaw like some kind of macabre puppeteer, is Ed.
His gaze rests on Simon.
‘You’re not the big man now, are you, eh?’
Ursula feels Simon stiffen.
‘Nothing to say? Cat got your tongue? Or maybe you only talk shit when you’re on the radio? Or is Twitter your new favourite way to express yourself? You’re fucking listening now, though, aren’t you?’
When Simon still doesn’t respond, Ed tilts the knife so the tip of the blade presses into the soft flesh under Alice’s chin, making her shriek. The right arm of her blouse is drenched in blood and her face is pale and clammy. She looks on the verge of passing out.
