by S A Tameez
Chapter 39
The room spun as Zoe lay in her bed. She took 3 tablets as opposed to taking the recommended 2. If she was going to take them, she wanted to make sure they knocked her out. Her eyelids were heavy, but her heart pounded every time her eyes closed making them snap open immediately. It was as if her mind was fighting the drugs. Not wanting her to sleep. Not wanting her to fall unconscious.
Her stomach churned and the urge to vomit was brewing. She wasn’t supposed to take the pills on an empty stomach but there wasn’t anything in the house except a few stale biscuits and she wasn’t going to have them. Her eyes finally closed for longer than a few seconds and she may have even drifted off for a few minutes before they snapped open again and she gasped for air as if drowning. The tablets weren’t going to work, not properly anyway. They were going to keep her in between being awake and being asleep. Which pretty much summed up her life, belonging nowhere.
She gazed up at the ceiling. The light was on. Of course, it would be hard to sleep with the light on. She was never able to sleep with the light on. She needed complete darkness.
She crawled out of bed and staggered to the wall with the light switch and turned it off. Her legs were unable to carry her, she slithered back to the bed. She could feel drool emerge from her mouth and felt like a helpless child as she pulled the duvet over her face. Her eyes closed again, and she thought of her mother. The times when she was a little girl and how her mother fussed whenever she fell ill. It never seemed like her mother was fully asleep. She would wake at the slightest stir and come rushing into Zoe’s room to check she was OK. Zoe didn’t mind that much, it was nice knowing she cared, still cares.
Her eyes opened with a noise. She pulled the duvet off her face to find the light on. Her breathing became shallow. She could have sworn she turned the light off. She remembered the pain in her legs when she got out of bed. Or maybe she hadn’t got up. Perhaps she imagined herself getting up and turning the light off, just the way she imagined the car outside her house. She was obviously stressed, and the stress was taking its toll on her mind and body. She felt vulnerable, just like the way she did when she was a child. She half expected her mother to come barging in to check if she was alright.
She got out of bed and turned the light off and then got back into bed. She lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling. Her eyes stung and head throbbed. She probably should have read the side effects before taking the pills. She certainly should not have taken over the recommended dose. It was just like her to overdo it, she overdid everything in her life.
Sleep it off. That’s what she advised herself. Sleep will fix everything.
She closed her eyes and resorted to her childhood technique of counting to infinity. A technique that never worked. It would usually get her questioning who made up numbers and why. This would then push her to ask questions that wouldn’t let her sleep.
Once again, her eyes opened. The light was on. She had turned it off, she knew she did. Drugged or not drugged, she had gotten up and she had turned that damn light off. Something was wrong, very wrong.
Had she left her phone on the sofa? She never had a landline installed, so she was dependant on the mobile alone. It would usually be charging on the bedside table. She always made sure it was there just in case of an emergency. She reached out for it but felt nothing in its place.
Damn it!
There was another noise and then she thought she saw figure walk passed the doorway of the room.
Then silence.
It was in her head. All in her head. She was already paranoid and seeing things. And these stupid tablets were making it worse. She needed to stay calm, ignore the sounds, voices and hallucinations. The light was on, she hadn’t turned it off. Her mind was playing nasty tricks on her. The way it did sometimes when you needed to pee while in deep sleep. You started to dream that you went and relieved yourself, but you didn’t and no matter how many times you dream it, the urge to go is still there. That’s what this was, a cocktail of stress, anxiety and sleeping pills. A horrible blend that drove a person to insanity.
There was a shuffling sound. It was too loud and too clear for it to not be real. It was real. It wasn’t in her head.
Someone was in her house.
****
Nick’s back was stiff from falling asleep on the chair next to Stacey’s bed. The hospital smell was making him want to flee. Stacey was fast asleep, and his mother was bottle-feeding the baby. It was as if she didn’t sleep. Like a Terminator with the primary objective to keep the baby safe and alive.
Maybe that’s what it was. She didn’t want the baby to die like Michael did. She saw what that did to him and couldn’t risk that happening again. She had to be here in person to make sure it didn’t happen again. Stacey was right, it was a good thing his mother was here. How would they have coped without her? Nick imagined himself covering the baby with baby powder and fastening the nappy in a way that it slid off, allowing the little guy to fire freely. Nick was hardly the modern-day man.
He stood and stretched his back. Glanced over at his mother who didn’t look at him. It was as if he didn’t exist anymore – for her, it was just the baby. Even dad had given up and only came to the hospital for a maximum of a few hours a day.
Thank God for mothers.
“I’m going to grab a cuppa,” he said quietly to his mother, trying not to wake Stacey. His mother shook her head and waved him away as she continued stroking the baby’s cheek. He wondered whether she was like this when he was a baby. Was she this fussy, overprotective?
He walked down the corridor and got the eye from a grey-haired nurse for using the patient toilets. It was confusing. Some toilets for patients, some for nurses and some for visitors. He didn’t have the patience or the bladder conditioning to figure out which was which, so he used the first one he found.
He grimaced at the thought of the tasteless tea that was available. His favourite coffee shop sprang to mind. He glanced at his phone as he approached the drinks machine and saw the missed call.
Jesus Christ! Does that woman not sleep!?
He scrolled to the messages.
1 new voicemail
He searched for the coin slot in the drinks machine. What the hell is this thing? He bashed the button that displayed Green Tea, but nothing happened. Contactless flashed on the digital screen.
Of course, how stupid of me to think we still needed physical coins anymore!
He removed his debit card and tapped it on the contactless pad and made the selection.
The tea was piping hot and didn’t smell appetising. Not worth the tap.
He selected voicemail on his phone and placed the phone to his ear. He burned his tongue with the boiling drink as he listened to Zoe’s message. He threw the drink in the bin and ran towards the exit.
****
Zoe’s head was now throbbing so hard she thought it might just explode. She lay frozen, desperately wanting to get up, but the cocktail of insomnia, nerves and drugs, forbade her from moving a muscle.
Why did she leave her phone downstairs?
Idiot.
She never did this. Her phone was always on her bedside table, except today. The day she needed it most.
The sound of footsteps emerged. They were getting louder as she assumed whoever it was, was coming closer.
Who was it?
No one had access to her place, not even the landlord, though he had a key, he couldn’t get in. She had double locked it from inside. Whoever this was had broken in. She clenched onto the duvet as her room span even faster.
She remembered the sound of glass breaking earlier while she was in and out of sleep. She assumed it was in her head. Perhaps it wasn’t.
The floorboards creaked. She recognised the creek. Someone was in her room, but she dared not look up, hoping this was just a nightmare. Something the stupid sleeping pills had brought on. Though her instincts told her this wasn’t the case. She was tempted to hide under the duvet li
ke a child, hoping that whoever it was would not be there when she emerged from under it.
She looked up and saw a blurry figure stood in front of her. For a moment, it span with the room and it was impossible to make out who it was, but she blinked as fast as she could and tried to focus. Eventually the room slowed to a halt and the figure became clearer.
“Hello Zoe,” a woman spoke. “Sorry for all the commotion, I had to make sure the house was empty.”
“Who… who are you?” Zoe said in a shaky voice.
“I’m offended,” the woman said and stepped forward, “You don’t recognise me?”
The blonde hair, strong jaw line. It rang a bell.
“Jessica Hyde,”
“Bingo.”
“What are you doing here?” Zoe asked and tried to push herself up.
“You don’t want to try to get up,” Jessica said as she held the bottle of pills up. “Seems like you may have taken one too many of these.”
“Why are you here? You’ve broken into my house. You’re in a lot of trouble.”
“I didn’t need to be here.” She sat on the end of the bed, “I didn’t want to be here. But you couldn’t stop probing could you. I saw you earlier, outside my house, snooping around my car like a sniffer dog.”
“You were watching.”
“I was. I must hand it to you; you really are a tenacious bitch. The car belonged to my ex-husband. I never registered it under my name. How did you figure out it was mine?”
“I didn’t.”
“Oh,” she looked genuinely surprised, “Well, it was only a matter of time.”
“Look, whatever is going on here, I’m sure we can sort this out. I know you’re upset about Norman and—”
“Don’t you dare say his name! You have no right to say his name. You took him from me!”
“Jessica, we didn’t take him. He was involved in—”
“Shut up!” she shouted, “Just shut up!” she leapt to her feet and paced the room.
“My Norman would never do anything like this. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
Zoe wanted to mention the evidence they had but chose to remain silent. Instead, she focused on trying to move. Her body was loosening, and she was regaining control.
“He didn’t do it,” she hissed.
“How can you be so sure?”
“I am sure.”
That’s when it hit Zoe, like a solid blow to the stomach. How could she have missed it? It was all there in the details. And now it was all becoming clear in her mind.
“It was you,” Zoe said, “You killed Sarah Fowler.”
Jessica’s shoulders slumped and for a moment, she looked defeated.
“I didn’t want to kill her. I had no intention of hurting her.” She glanced at Zoe searching her face for a reaction. “I wanted to talk to her. Just tell her to back off and stay away from my Norman.”
“But why?”
“Because he is my son! Mine. I carried him in my stomach and then in my arms and then into adulthood. I carried him.” Her eyes were welling up. “He’s a special boy and I love him more than anything in the world.” She clenched her fists, “And I know girls like that… that awful witch!” her expression and tone turned sour. “I saw the images in his room. Photos of that disturbed little slut! He was besotted and he couldn’t let her go. Because of her, things between us changed – she was a sick little whore! A devil that would have dragged my innocent boy to hell!”
“Jessica, listen—”
“Shut up!” she screamed, “You don’t get to talk right now. This isn’t the fucking interview room where you go on your power trip. You’re not in control now, so you need to shut up and listen!” Her eyes were glowing in rage. “I told you, I didn’t want to kill her, but I had to protect my son. At any cost, no matter who got in the way.” She released her fists and her eyes looked like they were filling. “It was a moment of rage. She didn’t understand, how could she? People like her and you, what the hell do you know about family? Nothing! She wouldn’t listen so I hit her as hard as could. It was instinct, a motherly instinct. You couldn’t possibly understand that. You’re an unmarried slut just like her.” She shook her head and then looked to the floor. “After I hit her, after a while, it registered in my head. The scream, the blood. I hadn’t even realised what I had done until it was too late.” She clawed at her head, scratching her scalp. “I knew how this would look. What it would mean for me and my life.” Her eyes now looked hollow. “I couldn’t let her go. She would have destroyed everything.”
“So, you drove her to the bridge and threw her off. While she was still alive.” Zoe said as the final few pieces of the puzzle fit into place. “What about the blue hooded top? Norman’s top?”
“You lot really are stupid. There were 2 of those tops. Matching tops. His and hers. One belonged to me and the other to my ex-husband. The one Norman wore was my ex-husband’s. He would wear it religiously. He was close to his father, but his father was a loser, so he had to go. The top you found was mine. And had you used your intelligence instead of your assumptions and wild accusations, then perhaps you would have worked it out. Did you really think that my Norman was the only person in the world to have a blue hooded top?”
“I never thought Norman did it.” Zoe said. “But I never thought it would be you.”
“I don’t need you to understand, nor do I need your judgement. Not someone like you. Husband-less, child-less. You’re a whore! Just like Sarah.”
“Jessica, there’s still a way out of this. You need help and that—”
“You just don’t stop do you. Your filthy mouth just keeps going and never stops. Still, I can’t blame you entirely, your mother obviously didn’t play her part. She didn’t teach you manners or how to behave.” She paused for a moment. Her body slouched. “Things will never be the same. Norman is gone.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that. Norman didn’t do it. He won’t go to prison.”
“I know. But I will,” she said in quiet voice, “And he can’t live without me. This cruel world will destroy him, and I won’t be there to help him, to care for him, to love him. To protect him.”
“Is that what you think you did? Protect him?”
“Like I said, you would never understand. Girls like you and that filthy bitch destroy boys like Norman. They push them to do all sorts of things. Vile and disgusting things. I couldn’t let him go through that. How could any mother?”
“Ok, fine. I understand. We can—”
“You’ve done enough.” She reached to the floor and lifted a plastic bag with speckles of blood. “This is what you were looking for. The weapon used to kill the little slut?” She removed a blood-stained brick.
Sweat formed on Zoe’s palms and she had the urge to vomit.
“What are you doing?” Zoe asked. Her heart was pounding uncontrollably.
“Relax, I’m not going to beat you to death. I’m not a monster.”
Zoe should have felt relieved hearing that, but she knew it wasn’t going to end there. The woman was clearly deranged, and she didn’t come here for confession or a woman-to-woman chat.
“You know,” Jessica walked around the bed towards her, “You really shouldn’t be taking more than the prescribed number of pills – it can’t be good for you,” she held out the bottle of pills in front of her, “Could even be fatal if you were to have an entire bottle.”
“What?” Zoe fought to move, “What are you doing?”
“Me? I’m not doing anything. It’s you who downed an entire bottle of pills. Tragic. I was never here.”
“You’ll never get away with this.”
“I don’t know if I care anymore.”
“Jessica, please. You don’t have to do this.” Zoe built up as much energy as she could conjure. She had to do something, or this crazy woman would actually try to force her to swallow the contents of the bottle. And judging by how taking 3 made her feel, the remain 27 would surely killer her.
&n
bsp; Get up Zoe! She commanded herself as Jessica approached. Do something!
Zoe used all her strength and rolled off the bed and hit the ground. Her back felt as if it might have snapped as the wind was kicked out of her.
“Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” Jessica said as she towered over her, clenching the pills in her hand. Zoe used the little energy she had left to kick out as hard as she could. She struck Jessica in the stomach hard enough to make her wince in pain.
Zoe lifted herself up and stumbled out of the room but felt hands grab her from behind. She tried to pull away. It was no use.
“Stop struggling!” Jessica demanded and she grabbed onto her from behind. She had a strong grip and Zoe could not break free. She threw her head back hard and connected with what she presumed was Jessica’s nose. There was a crack, then a scream and her grip loosened. Zoe felt a warm trickle of blood on the back of her neck. She lunged towards the stairs but as she took the first step, she felt the force of someone pushing her and she fell, tumbling down, hitting her arms, shoulders and then her head. A few flashing lights and then everything went black.
Chapter 40
Nick drove out of the carpark and onto the main road. He called into the station and requested uniforms to be sent to Zoe’s address, but he knew he would get there before them.
Something felt wrong – he heard it deep in her voice. Although she ended her message with, ‘I think I just need to get some sleep. Sorry I called,’ something didn’t seem right. A sixth sense told him so.
The roads were clear, and Nick paid no attention to the road laws – he floored it through the red lights and bus lanes.
Was he overreacting to her message? Surely, if this were a real emergency, she would have dialled 999? Harold said she didn’t seem to be thrilled that they had the evidence they needed to pin the murder on Norman Hyde, and she had taken the afternoon off.
This was either a cry for attention or she was in real trouble. Nick put his money on the latter and floored the accelerator.
