Down to Sleep

by M K Farrar

  She’d have to start job-hunting. Phil was right when he said there were plenty of other bar jobs out there. Or maybe she should follow some of Kyle’s advice and go for something a little more challenging. She also had to take into account that she no longer had a car to get her into work, if it was a role outside of the city centre. She thought of something else, and her heart sank. She also didn’t have the ability to drive down to her parents’ house at the weekend either. Would Kyle drive her, or should she just cancel? She didn’t know how she felt about Kyle coming down to Devon with her again. She would have liked to just drive by herself, have a little space for a few hours. Her life had ended up completely emerged in his, somehow, and those few hours doing something normal would have been good.

  She decided to pop to the shops and get a local newspaper and scan it for jobs. Maybe she’d treat herself to some chocolate, if her budget stretched to it.

  Natalie grabbed her handbag and went to the front door.

  But as she tried the handle, and it refused to budge, a familiar sinking sensation appeared inside her.

  “Oh my God!”

  Kyle must have accidentally locked the door again when he’d gone out. She stared at the door handle, as though she could open it with willpower alone. Even though he’d said to treat this place like her own, he’d never actually given her a key.

  Dammit.

  She went to the backdoor and tried that as well. Locked.

  Panic fluttered in her chest. She was locked in here.

  It was just an accident, she was sure. She couldn’t exactly smash a window to get out. Kyle would come home and think she’d lost her mind. It wasn’t as though she was in any danger, or that she needed to be somewhere urgently.

  She would phone him and see how long he intended to be. If he wasn’t too far away, maybe he could pop back and unlock the door for her. Surely, he’d understand that she was feeling a little claustrophobic. What if there was a fire or something, and she couldn’t get out? It wasn’t safe.

  She fished her phone from her bag. Overnight, the battery had died. What had she done with the charger Kyle had bought? It had been plugged in beside the bed, hadn’t it? Keeping hold of the dead phone, she ran up the stairs to the bedroom. There was no charger plugged into the wall beside the bed.

  Kyle had said he didn’t have an actual phone to plug into his landline as his computer was always hooked up to it. Could she use that to contact someone? She wasn’t particularly computer literate, but she had an email address. Or could she use a computer to contact the police? She cringed inside at the thought. If she could call nine-nine-nine, what would she even say? That her boyfriend had accidentally locked her inside his house, and she was freaking out? It was hardly an emergency, was it? She’d probably get told off for wasting police time.

  Even so, she still wanted to contact someone.

  Though her Nokia was dead, she kept hold of it like a comfort blanket—maybe the charger would materialise—and ran back down the stairs. She pushed her way into Kyle’s office. She felt like she was trespassing, but she couldn’t allow herself to care. It was more important that she sort this out. Besides, he’d gone into her bag and taken her phone when he’d called Phil, so Kyle could hardly complain about her invading his personal space.

  Standing at his desk, she clicked the mouse. The computer whirred to life, and the screen flickered on.

  Shit. She needed the password.

  She had no idea what that would be, and it suddenly dawned on her how little she knew about him. She wasn’t even sure what his date of birth was—though she was sure he’d said his birthday was in October sometime. Twenty-first or twenty-seventh. She couldn’t even be certain of that. She definitely didn’t know his mother’s maiden name, or what his first pet was called, or any of the other things someone might use as their password to their personal computer.

  What about the windows? Could she open one of them and get out? She felt silly, needing to climb through a window like a child, but at least then she wouldn’t feel so trapped, knowing she could still get in and out of the house.

  Leaving the computer behind, she rounded the desk and stopped at the window. She tried the handle, but it was locked. She guessed that was understandable—Kyle kept expensive equipment in here and wouldn’t want to risk someone stealing it. She left the office to go into the lounge and tried those windows as well.

  All locked.

  Had the windows been locked before? She thought they’d had little keys sticking out of the locks, but she couldn’t be sure. The keys must be around here someplace. She hurried to the kitchen and got to work, searching the drawers, pulling each one open and rifling through the myriad of spare leads and takeaway menus, among other things. She found a couple of spare keys, though most appeared too large to be for any of the windows, but one could easily be for the front or back door. Any that might be a possibility, she put on the kitchen worktop.

  None of the ones she’d found looked like they’d open a window, but then she guessed it wouldn’t matter so much if one of the other keys opened the front or back door.

  Before she started trying them, she went back into Kyle’s office and checked the drawers, but there was nothing. The bottom two of the desk drawers refused to open, but why on earth would Kyle lock all the windows and then shut all the keys in his desk drawer? It didn’t make sense.

  Like him shutting you in the house for no reason doesn’t make sense.

  It had been an accident, that was all. A force of habit. It wasn’t something to get worried about.

  But then why did she have to keep tamping down the flutters of panic in her belly?

  She needed to check those spare keys.

  Natalie went back to the kitchen where she’d left them on the side. For a moment, she was filled with the certainty they would no longer be there, but they were right where she’d left them.

  “Of course, they are, you idiot,” she said. “Where else would they be?”

  She picked up one of the keys and took it to the back door. It slid into the lock but wouldn’t turn.

  “Shit.”

  Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe the reason it didn’t turn was because this was actually for the front door.

  Natalie hurried through the house to the front and tried the key in the lock there. It didn’t even go in.

  “Shit, shit, shit.”

  She sucked in a breath and steadied herself with her hand on the wall. Nothing bad was happening. She wasn’t in any danger. It was just a house with locked doors, that was all.

  Pulling herself together, she went back to the kitchen. She repeated the process with each of the ones she’d found, but none fitted either of the doors.

  “What now?”

  There wasn’t much she could do except wait for Kyle to come home.

  With her arms folded across her chest, she lurked at the living room window, looking out onto the quiet cul-de-sac. No one was around at this time of day. Everyone left well before nine in the morning, heading off to work, or driving their kids to school. Everyone took their big, expensive cars. No one went on foot. The only person she’d seen walking through the drive was the postman, and he’d already done his round for the day. She’d been hoping to catch someone’s attention and get them to phone Kyle for her, but the road was deserted, and she doubted anyone was going to come along anytime soon.

  Still, she waited at the window, chewing at the loose piece of skin on her lip. But the minutes passed, and no one appeared. With a huff of frustration, she left the window and paced the house, hoping to spot something she might have missed the first time around. What the hell had happened to her phone charger? Had Kyle taken it to his meeting by mistake? She didn’t even know where the meeting was being held. Was it in the city, or had he needed to travel farther? He’d taken the car, so it was far enough away to be drivable.

  The more she thought, the more she realised just how little she knew about him, and the realisation baffled her. She w
asn’t one of those women who lost their heads over a bloke, or who threw herself into a relationship at the expense of everything else. She’d never done that before, so why now?

  How had she ended up living with someone she barely knew? She hadn’t meant to. It had never been a conscious decision. It was more like the universe had guided her this way. Like a hamster in a Rotastak, she been put on a path, and each time she’d tried to turn in the wrong direction, she’d been nudged back towards Kyle again.

  She needed to catch the attention of someone who lived in the close, but she couldn’t just stand at the window for hours, waiting for someone to wander by. But what if she could leave a message. An idea occurred to her, and she went to her handbag. Digging around, she found a small tube of lipstick. It wasn’t something she’d normally carry around, but since she’d met Kyle, she’d started to make more of an effort.

  She took the lipstick to the window and pulled off the cap. With red streaked marks, she wrote, Help! I’m locked in!

  The letters could have done with being bigger, but writing with the lipstick used it up surprisingly quickly. It was something, though. Maybe someone would spot it and come and knock on the door to check everything was all right. Then she’d be able to shout through the letter box and get them to call Kyle and let him know he’d accidentally locked her in the house again.

  If it even was an accident.

  Of course it was. What possible reason would he have for locking her up?

  She turned away from the window and threw the remaining stub of the lipstick in the bin. It was ruined now anyway.

  As soon as Kyle got back and opened the door, she’d tell him that she was going to go and live back at her flat. She could handle living beneath a murder scene, if it meant getting away from Kyle.

  Still, that little nagging thought in her head insisted she was overreacting. What if this was all just a silly misunderstanding and she was blowing it up in her head?

  But then why were all the windows locked? Where were the keys? Where was her phone charger? It definitely felt like he’d deliberately isolated her here. He’d even been the one to quit her job, so no one would come looking for her.

  The low purr of a familiar car engine caught her attention, and she raced to the window. The black Audi was pulling into the driveway.

  Her heartrate skyrocketing, she stumbled back from the window, suddenly not wanting him to see her.

  The click of the front door key in the lock was as loud as a gunshot, and her stomach lurched, her heart racing as she turned to face the door.

  He was home.

  Chapter Nineteen

  She was dizzy with adrenaline, her hands trembling.

  How was this going to go?

  It didn’t matter if he apologised, she reminded herself. No matter what his excuses were, and if he said he was sorry and it was a mistake, she just needed to leave. Even if it was a genuine error, he’d frightened her. She had no intention of putting herself through that again.

  The door opened, and Kyle walked in. He caught sight of her standing in the middle of the hallway, her hands clenched to her sides, and a smile spread across his face. It was a strange smile—one that tweaked the corners of his lips but didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Hello, Natalie.”

  “You locked me in here!” she blurted. “You locked the front door again, and I couldn’t get out, and the battery on my phone had died, and you don’t have a phone. I’ve been stuck in the house all day! What if something had happened? What if the house had caught on fire?”

  He chuckled. “The house wasn’t going to catch on fire.”

  She stared at him. “Is that all you’re going to say? No kind of remorse about locking me up like a damned prisoner?”

  “Why would I be sorry?”

  Understanding dawned, and nausea swept over her in a dizzying rush of heat. “You knew I was locked in. You did it on purpose.”

  He lifted his eyes skywards. “Finally, she understands.”

  “What? Why would you do that?” She shook her head, trying to shake some sense into herself. “You know what, don’t even bother answering. I’m out of here.”

  She stepped forwards, intending to push right past him and get out of this goddamned house, but he positioned himself in her path.

  “I don’t think so, Natalie.”

  The possibility she was in real danger swept over her. “Get out of my way, Kyle. I mean it. I’ll scream this place down, and then you’ll have to answer some difficult questions from the police.”

  “I think first of all, you and I need to have a little chat.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you. I have no idea what you’re playing at, but this isn’t on. Whatever this”—she gestured between them—“was, is over. Now get the fuck out of my way.”

  “I’ll move, but first you need to hear me out. Once you’ve heard what I’ve got to say, I’ll clear the way for you, and you can leave as you please.”

  What the hell was this? She felt as though she was facing a trap.

  “I’m not going to play your little games. Now move.” She’d go straight through him if she had to. He was far bigger than her, and she didn’t want to get hurt, but she also wasn’t going to just stand there and let him lock the door again.

  “It’s about your brother.”

  It was as though he’d punched the air from her lungs. “What?”

  “You heard me. Now, let’s go through to the living room like civilised adults so we can sit down and talk.”

  She was shaking badly now, her head spinning. What the hell did any of this have to do with Anthony?

  “No, just let me go.”

  Slowly, he shook his head. “Trust me when I say that would be a very bad decision on your part, Natalie. You’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”

  She wanted to stick with her initial plan and barge straight past him and keep going and never look back. Hell, maybe she should even go to the police and tell them that he’d held her prisoner?

  A terrible thought occurred to her. Mina’s and Sajad’s deaths had ultimately been the reason she’d moved in with him. She hadn’t wanted to go back to the flat. Surely it had just been a horrible coincidence. It wasn’t as though Kyle had anything to do with their deaths, did he? She remembered Mina entering the building, just as she was leaving, on the day Kyle had come to pick her up. He’d asked who Mina was, but surely that didn’t mean anything. Kyle might be far too controlling, but he wasn’t a murderer.

  Was he?

  What if she went to the police and told them that she thought he might even be capable of killing Mina and Sajad? Or would she just look like the crazy one? The one who’d had a falling out with her boyfriend and was now trying to make him look bad? But even though she wanted to get out of there, she couldn’t go without hearing what he had to say about Anthony.

  “Fine,” she relented, “but you don’t lock the front door again, and you say whatever it is you have to say right here.”

  “I don’t need to lock the door. After you hear me out, you won’t be going anywhere.”

  Ice ran through her veins at his words. “What are you talking about?”

  “I want to tell you a story, Natalie. It’s about a young man who likes to walk. He spent a long time locked up inside four walls, and so now he likes the open space. It clears his head from all the bad shit going around inside it. It gives him direction and stops him doing something he shouldn’t. Do you know someone like that?”

  She assumed it was a rhetorical question and he didn’t actually want an answer.

  “Well, nine years ago, that same young man had happened upon a little picnic area up on the moors. He didn’t join in with the picnic, because he knew he was different from all those other families. He liked to watch them though, just to see how normal families worked. Only, he saw something he wasn’t expecting. You see, this particular family looked normal on the outside, but underneath they were different. Someone didn’t b
elong, and the young man always recognises someone who doesn’t belong.”

  Who was he talking about?

  She didn’t dare speak.

  “So, the young man stayed among the trees, where he couldn’t be seen, and he watched. At first he was confused, because two of the teenagers were supposed to be brother and sister, but they didn’t look alike, and not only that, the way the boy was touching the girl wasn’t how a brother should be touching a sister at all. She wasn’t happy about it, that was clear to see. But neither of them wanted anyone to know about what was happening. The man could see that, even from a distance. Both of the teenagers kept checking for the parents, making sure they were nowhere near. But they didn’t think to check for a grown man who might be hidden in the trees, watching everything that was happening with increasing curiosity.”

  No, no, no. What was Kyle saying? That he was there that day? Surely that wasn’t right. He was part of a different world, not the one that had haunted her dreams for as long as she could remember.

  Natalie opened her mouth to speak, but only a gasp of air came out. Her legs went weak, and she clutched the wall for balance.

  Kyle observed her with amusement in his eyes. “I did suggest that we sit down like civilised people, but oh no, Natalie knew best.” He smirked. “Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes, the young man was watching the teenagers. The boy seemed to be enjoying himself, but the girl wasn’t. She was angry and embarrassed, and the more angry and embarrassed she became, the more the boy liked it. The man enjoyed watching, and he’d thought the girl would probably start to cry and run off. But something else happened. She did try to leave, but the boy tried to stop her. And do you know what that girl did—that girl who acted like she was the victim, the one everyone should feel sorry for? She pushed the boy. She pushed him off the bridge and she let him fall.”

  Natalie shook her head, frantic little shakes. Her breathing was fast, too fast, tiny gasps in and out. The world was tunnelling, black edging into her vision.

  “But then you already know all of this, don’t you, Natalie?” he continued. “You already know all of this because you were the girl and Anthony was the boy, and you were the one who killed him. You pushed him off the bridge, and even if there had been time to save him, you still did nothing. You just stood there and made sure enough time had passed before you called for help so that even if he had survived the fall, he would have drowned in the water. Isn’t that right?”