by M A Comley
Life was full-on. It consisted of going to work at the busiest time of the year for holiday bookings, visiting Trisha daily, being joyful of the significant improvement in her friend, to Cynthia arranging final fittings for the wedding dress. Everything happened in a haze right up to the last minute.
Trisha came home the night before the wedding. Although she was on a lot of medication, she raised a glass to Lucy all the same. They settled down on the couch for a long natter. It turned out to be an emotional evening for both of them. Trisha fell asleep on the sofa at around ten-thirty, exhausted by the emotion and the excitement to come. Lucy went upstairs to get Trisha’s quilt and covered her over as she slept.
She kissed her forehead and whispered, “I’m glad you’re with me. Tomorrow wouldn’t have been the same without you there by my side.”
Lucy locked the doors and windows and went to bed. The night whizzed by without incident and, when she came down the next morning, another note was awaiting her on the doormat. She tore it open and read it:
IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH UNTIL DEATH US DO PART
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Lucy poked her head into the lounge. Trisha was snoring gently under the quilt. She went over to the window and eased back the curtain to find the man with the limp standing on the other side of the road, staring at the house.
Fuck! I’ve had enough of this jerk. She flew out of the house to confront him, but by the time she opened the front door, he’d vanished. She scanned the road—there was no sight of him.
For her own sanity, and the fact she was getting married in a few hours’ time, she had to put the man out of her mind. She was still convinced Jake and Cynthia were behind the stranger’s stalking behaviour.
She made toast and coffee and joined Trisha in the lounge.
Sleepily, her friend sat up and smiled at her. “Never thought I’d say I’ve had the best night’s sleep in ages while sleeping on the sofa.”
“Glad to hear it. You’re looking well on it.”
“Sod me. How are you feeling?”
“Nervous as hell. I have a confession.”
“Uh-oh! Let’s have it.”
Lucy crossed the room and collected an envelope from the drawer in the dresser. She removed the contents and handed them to Trisha. “Read these and tell me what you think.”
Trisha frowned as she devoured the information on the notes. “What the fuck are these?”
“Notes that have been left for me, mostly here, but that one”—she pointed at the one Trisha was holding in her left hand—“that one was found by your bed in the hospital.”
“Bloody hell, don’t say that, you’re going to freak me out.”
“It’s true. The nurses and doctors had to resuscitate you.”
“Why? No! Are you saying that someone tried to kill me?”
Lucy nodded. “There’s something else I’ve kept from you.”
“Which is?” Trisha’s eyes widened.
“I hate telling you this, but I think you need to know. “The brakes on your car were cut.”
“Deliberately cut?”
Lucy nodded and sighed. “So it would seem. There’s also been a man stalking me.”
“My God! Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? No, don’t answer that, you were trying to protect me. Bloody hell, Lucy, you have to go to the police.”
“How can I? We’ve come so far. If I open my mouth now…I’ll end up in prison.”
“You won’t. It was self-defence. That man abused you for years, and you never retaliated, not once.”
“Not true, love. I killed him in the end. The greatest form of retaliation there is, for God’s sake.”
Trisha threw back her quilt and stood. She toppled forward.
Lucy caught her and eased her back onto the sofa. “Take it easy. I’m sorry, you’re not yet strong enough to hear all of this.”
“I am. You should’ve told me sooner. What’s going on? Do you know?”
“Jake and Cynthia know I have a secret. They keep pushing me to reveal it. I think they’re behind this man stalking me. Their aim, to unnerve me, possibly make me call off the wedding.”
“Really? Surely if they had doubts about you, wouldn’t they openly confront you?”
“Who knows what rich people get up to? I was mulling things over. Maybe this is why Matthew has never had a serious relationship in the past.”
“The mother and brother scared them all off, is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes.” Lucy threw her arms out to the side then slapped them against her thighs. “Oh, I don’t know. I suppose we’ll find out today just how far the pair of them are prepared to go.”
“No. Call it off if you suspect things are going to get worse. I don’t want you putting your life at risk, nothing is worth that, love. Nothing and no one, no matter how much you love Matthew.”
“I know you’re right, however, wouldn’t that only be letting them win? Why should I give up on the love of my life, merely because his family object to me? He loves me, shouldn’t that be all that matters in this?”
Trisha fell quiet and sipped her coffee. “I appreciate you confiding in me. I don’t have all the answers, though, lovely. My head’s still a mess. I wish I could help you out, but I can’t, I’m not capable at the moment.”
Lucy rushed to sit beside her. “I’m sorry, I should never have burdened you with this. It’s my problem, not yours. I’m such a selfish cow.”
“You’re not. Don’t say that. My suggestion would be to tell Matthew, have it out with him before you tie the knot.”
“What if he dumps me?”
Trisha shrugged. “My guess is he wouldn’t do that. Is it a risk you’re prepared to take?”
Lucy buried her face in her hands and mumbled, “I can’t lose him. Not now.”
“You have my blessing, either way, love. Time’s marching on. You’re going to have to consider getting ready soon.”
“I know. I’ll mull it over as I get ready. Hey, we need to get you washed and dressed, too. Do you want a bath?”
“I’d love one, will there be enough hot water?”
“Of course, I’ll stick the boiler on.”
Matthew called her at eleven to check how things were going. She was relieved to hear his voice. One hour later, and they would be walking down the aisle together. He told her the car was due to pick her up at eleven-forty-five. He’d also arranged for another car to transport Trisha to the ceremony. That had shocked her—she’d presumed Trisha would be going with her. Never mind, she’d enjoy the journey on her own. Maybe enjoy would turn out to be the wrong sentiment once her nerves kicked in.
The two lifelong friends stared at each other in the full-length mirror in Trisha’s room.
“You look breathtaking. The most beautiful bride to ever grace this earth.”
“You’re so sweet. Ugh…I feel a bit of a fraud, you know, wearing white.”
“It’s your first true wedding. Ignore the other disaster, love. That’s all it was. This one is forever and ever. Matthew is crazy about you.”
A contented sigh escaped. “I hope so. I’d dread to think what I’d do without him by my side now. He’s sending two cars for us. I presumed you’d travel with me; he had a different idea.”
“That’s a shame. Looks like he has it all in hand.”
They hugged and left the bedroom. Lucy went over to the window in the lounge, half expecting the man with the limp to be there. He wasn’t. Maybe he’s finally got the hint.
“Oh God, the cars are here.”
Trisha stood beside her at the window. “Not long now before you take your vows. I’m so thrilled for you. You promise you’ll stay in touch, won’t you?”
Lucy spun around to face her. “Are you kidding me? We’ll never lose touch, ever. We’ve come so far together in this life.”
“Oh shit! Don’t start me off. My mascara is likely to run.”
“It’s waterproof and super-expensive, it’d better
not. Are you ready?”
“Are you?”
“I think so. Let’s do this.”
They left the house, and the two drivers held open the respective back doors for them to enter.
“Good luck,” Trisha shouted, getting into the car.
“Thanks. See you at the other end, lovely.”
The driver dipped his head and closed the door.
Inside, the smell of new leather eased into her nostrils. She noticed the small window was open between the driver and herself. To calm her nerves, she struck up a conversation with him.
“Lovely day for it, little nip in the air, though, all the same.”
“Aye, there is that.”
“Do you drive for the Wallenders?”
“Aye, I do.”
“For how long?”
“Several years now.”
She noticed the man’s eyes fix on her in the rear-view mirror. He seemed pleasant enough. The conversation died down between them. Lucy rotated her head from side to side to ease out the tension in her neck. The traffic ground to a halt ahead of them. I hope we make it on time. I can’t stand being late.
The cars set off slowly. She watched out of the side window and smiled as they passed the cars next to them. Most of the drivers raised their thumbs at her. She smiled in return. The church close to the Wallenders’ mansion was only a few streets away now.
“Do you think we’re going to be late?” she asked the driver.
“Nope. Sit back and enjoy the ride, Miss Brent.”
Something about the way he said her name made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
She tried to relax, but her stomach knotted when the car veered off in the wrong direction. “What are you doing? The church’s that way. We’re almost there, ignore the traffic.”
“Leave things to me. I know a shortcut,” he called over his shoulder.
Suddenly, the locks on the door clunked.
“What are you doing? I want to get out. Stop! I’ll make my own way there.”
She glanced over her shoulder, saw the other car, with Trisha inside, turn and stick to its original course. Fear rippled every nerve ending.
“Please, what are you doing?” The strain was now showing in her voice.
The driver put his foot down. Ten minutes later, he stopped at a clearing. He turned in his seat to face her and removed the contacts from his eyes and the thick-rimmed glasses. There was something familiar about him. Shit! The man with a limp.
“You. What do you want with me? I know Cynthia and Jake have put you up to this.”
He laughed and tilted his head back, and then his hand went to his chin and he ripped off his beard.
Lucy thought her heart was going to stop there and then. No! This can’t be happening… It can’t be him… It’s impossible!
“Recognise me now, Jill?”
She closed her eyes, in an effort to blank out his familiar features.
“Look at me, bitch.”
Her eyes shot open. The past five years disappeared into obscurity. She was back there, with him. On that plane.
“How did you escape?” she whispered.
“How indeed. No thanks to you trying to kill me, Jill. Thought you’d start up a new life and I wouldn’t be able to track you down, did you? You failed, bitch.”
“I wanted to start over. I’m sorry for what I did,” she murmured.
“Sorry for murdering me, you mean?”
“Yes, no. Shit! Let me go. I have another life now. I’m happy, leave me in peace.”
“Even if I let you go today, you wouldn’t be able to marry him. You’re forgetting one thing: you’re still married to me. You’re still Mrs Patrick Maxwell.”
She covered her mouth with her clenched fist, forcing back the scream threatening to break free. Her life as she knew it was now a figment of her imagination. Her whole being smashed to smithereens. A far-off pipedream, out of her grasp.
He would abduct her, keep her locked up somewhere for the rest of her life. Knowing what he was capable of, she had to escape, but how? The doors were locked, there was no way out.
“I need some fresh air.”
“The windows still work.”
She lowered the window and debated, for a split second, whether to jump out or not. She was slim enough, but her huge marshmallow of a dress could possibly hamper her progress. She decided it was a risk worth taking. Lucy darted through the window before he had a chance to stop her. She landed on the ground with a thud, her head hitting the concrete, leaving her dazed for a second or two. The car door slammed. Shit! I have to get away! Get up and go!
But it was too late. His hands dug into her arms, preventing her from taking flight. Think, think, how do I get away? I have to get away, otherwise he’s going to kill me.
Her arms rotated, mimicking a windmill on the Norfolk Broads. She clobbered him a few times, enough to send him off balance. She took her opportunity to jump to her feet. Sinister thoughts ran through her mind. Her shoes, she’d use them as weapons, it was all she had. She stomped, driving her stiletto with force into his instep.
“You, fucking bitch. You’re gonna pay for that.”
During his cussing, she slipped off her shoes, grabbed one of them, hitched up her skirt and took off. Up ahead there was a small wooded area. Before long, she was under the canopy of the trees. Lucy hid behind a thick tree trunk and used the time to fill her lungs with oxygen and to mull over what to do next. Until she heard footsteps behind her. She peered around the trunk. There was no one there. It was your imagination, idiot!
She turned back, prepared to run again, only to find Patrick standing in front of her. She attempted to scream but his hand slapped over her mouth. He had her pinned to the tree with his knee and his other hand was up her skirt, searching for her panties. No! No, I won’t allow him to do this to me. Never again. If I die trying to fight him off, then so be it.
Lucy bit down on his hand and shoved him back. She hit him numerous times with the heel of her shoe. “You, bastard. Get your filthy hands off me! Never again, you hear me?”
He cried out each time the heel punctured his body but his glare never faltered. “Bitch, you won’t get away with this, not this time. I’ll hunt you down until the dying breath leaves your scrawny body. I killed your friend. She died a pitiful death, just like your parents!”
She paused, her arm raised high above her head. “What? You did that? To Shirley? To Mum and Dad?”
“Yep, I did it all. Ran you off the road, cut the brakes on Trisha’s car. Interfering busybody she is. I should have realised you would’ve counted on her for help. I should’ve come back and killed her years ago, except I thought you were dead then. I still wanted your parents to pay. They never did like me, did they?”
“They saw through you. They say love is blind—in my case that was true. Why I ever loved you I’ll never know. You killed that over the years, with all your beatings, just like you killed our baby.”
“You would never have coped with a kid.”
“How would you know? Having a child would’ve helped me to cope living with a cruel, barbaric individual like you. Maybe it was better for my child to die. I couldn’t have taken it if you’d started abusing it the way you abused me.”
“I didn’t abuse you. You enjoyed my rough treatment. You needed guidance. You weren’t capable of thinking for yourself.”
“You didn’t allow me to think for myself. You, manipulative fucker. I wish you’d died in that crash…”
“But I didn’t. Your attempt was thwarted. Did you really think I couldn’t read what was going on in that pretty little head of yours? As if I would load the plane up with only one parachute. I jumped out not long after you, thankfully, before it started to descend. It was touch and go whether the plane would hit the mountain or not.”
“Why didn’t the authorities track you down? Your name was on the flight.”
“You’re not the only one who changed their identity.
It was simple, as you proved.”
“How…how did you find me?”
“I searched for you for days. All these years I believed you were dead. Until I saw the picture of you attending that charity function with your new beau. You were suddenly the talk of the town. You might’ve changed the colour of your hair but I instantly recognised you. I used to spend hours watching you sleep next to me. Every curve of your face was imprinted in my mind. You were, no, you are, the love of my life. Let’s start over again.”
To think this man perceived how he treated her all those years as love, absolutely floored her. She had to get away from him. She didn’t want to know how he tracked her down or how he’d lived the past five years. All she wanted was to get away from him and begin her life anew, with Matthew. Anger surged through her core, ensuring she had the strength to end this, once and forever.
“You’ll never lay another finger on me again, never, do you hear me?” She hit him with her heel, over and over, until he slumped to the ground, not moving. She inched closer and touched his neck with her fingers. There was a pulse.
His hand gripped hers. Lucy screamed and thrust her knee in his face then ran. Ran for her life.
Her dress was torn and nearly hanging off her. She didn’t care what she looked like on what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. All she was concerned about was getting as far away from him as possible.
She tripped on a branch buried in the undergrowth, lost her balance and fell flat on her face, but she got up immediately, finding the strength and stamina to continue her escape.
Nearing the edge of the woodland, a row of houses appeared. Lucy spotted someone in one of the gardens. She cried out, “Please, please you have to help me.”
The woman’s expression was that of a rabbit caught in the headlights and she backed up inside her house, slamming the door on Lucy, and any hope she had of being rescued. She wiped away the tears burning her eyes. Please, won’t someone help me?
