“Is she badly hurt?” asked Jess. “What did he do to her?”
Sarah lowered her eyes. “She isn’t bleeding.”
“That doesn’t tell us anything. We need Ruth.”
“Yes.”
Jess closed her eyes. She looked tired. Sarah remembered that she’d walked forty miles to find her and the others who’d been taken, just a few days ago.
Jess eyed Sarah. “You know where she’s gone?”
Sarah nodded. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“I can imagine what you’ve got to say about things, but I don’t want to hear it. I need to speak to the police, calm the village. It’s not easy, being steward.”
“Can I come and find you? I don’t want to leave Mum right now, but I think I can help.”
“Do you?” Jess replied.
“Yes.”
“OK. Give me half an hour. I’ll stall the police. If I can. You want to tell them something?”
“Yes.”
“Right.”
Jess gave Dawn one final worried look then left. Sarah listened as she hurried down the stairs and closed the door behind her.
“Mum? Can you hear me?”
Dawn opened her eyes. “Of course I can. Sit down here. Talk to your old mum.”
“You’re not so old.”
“You know what I mean.” She patted the bed next to her.
Sarah sat down, taking her mother’s hand. “Does your head hurt?”
“Nothing that won’t get better.” She tried to smile. “Don’t worry, love. I’ve had worse.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Dawn closed her eyes. Sarah wondered if she was about to lose consciousness. She gripped her hand tighter.
“Ouch.”
Sarah let go. Dawn opened her eyes.
“I’m sorry, love.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“He’s never hit you before.”
Sarah lowered her eyes. He’d hit her mother, plenty of times.
Dawn continued. “I always promised myself that if he touched you…”
“Promised yourself what, Mum?”
Dawn closed her eyes. “Nothing. Things are too complicated, right now.” She opened her eyes. “You need to stay out of trouble, love. Keep away from that boy.”
“I know.”
“And you need to get out of this house. You’re a woman now. You need a place of your own. I’m sure the council would give you and Sam that vacant flat.”
Sarah dropped Dawn’s hand. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Its not ridiculous, love. Sam’s a good boy. Reliable, Even tempered. Safe. He’s what you need.”
“That’s not what Dad thinks.”
“He’ll come round.” Dawn looked into her eyes. “You know why you have to leave us. I can’t have him hurting you again.”
“Then why do you let him do it to you?”
“I don’t have a lot of choice. Besides, your dad isn’t as bad as all that.”
“Mum.”
“When you get to my age, you’ll understand that life isn’t all black and white.” She paused. “I think you’ve had a bit of a taste of that lately, haven’t you?”
Sarah felt herself blush.
“Well. Do the sensible thing. Talk to Sam. He’s in love with you. He’s got a job, of sorts, and a good family. He’s what you need.”
“I don’t love him, Mum.”
“And you do love this Martin boy?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Stay away from him, Sarah.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “He’s a killer.”
“No. No, he’s not.”
“I know his type, love. He’s bad news.”
“I’m not you.”
Dawn’s eyes sprang open. “That’s not what I said.”
Sarah held her gaze for a moment. Both women knew what her father was, but both were scared to give voice to it. But Martin wasn’t Ted.
She stood up. She smoothed the duvet over her mother then turned for the door. Jess had gone. The bedroom was entirely dark now; where had the day gone?
She walked into the hallway and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was dimly lit from one side, through the window. Her hair was tangled and the skin under her eyes yellowing with a growing bruise. “He really isn’t,” she said to her reflection.
She closed the bedroom door and stumbled down the stairs. She needed to find Jess.
Chapter Seventeen
Jess was standing at the door to Ben and Ruth’s house. She reached into her pocket and put a key in the lock. Sarah had never known Ben and Ruth lock their door before.
“Jess! Stop!”
She looked round. Sarah approached her, glad the square was quiet. She could hear the dim roll of thunder behind her, inland.
“Sarah. You had something to tell me.”
“Yes. It wasn’t Ruth’s fault.”
“I saw what she did, Sarah. I have no idea how she’s going to defend herself. We can’t exactly afford a lawyer.”
“You didn’t see what happened before that. You came bursting in after my dad, when he was on the floor, fighting Robert. Right?”
“You were kneeling over him.”
“I hadn’t been.”
“What do you mean, you hadn’t been?”
“When Dad saw me, from the yard. I was sitting at the table. With Ruth. Robert had a knife against my cheek. He moved it to my forehead. He cut me.”
She lifted her hair to show the scar that she knew zagged across her forehead.
“That was you. Not Ruth.”
“I was in the cell next to her. I heard him visiting her.”
Jess’s eyes widened. “He raped her?”
“No. But he was going to. He threatened her with it, all the time. Kept going on about Ben and how he was going to steal her from him. None of it made any sense.”
“They knew each other at school. Things happened.”
“I gathered that.”
“So you think she’s got a defence? He was going to rape her?”
“When they brought me and Martin back, she appeared from upstairs. I think he’d forced her up to his room. He wanted her to live with him. It was sick.”
Jess looked down at the ground. Sarah watched her, waiting. Was there something she didn’t know about the Dyer family, and its history with Robert Cope? Something Jess knew, but wasn’t revealing?
“You can try telling the police that,” said Jess. “But Ruth’s best chance is if they work out who really killed him.”
“You think so?”
“Sarah, you know who grabbed that knife and went for him. Ruth only finished it off.”
“Right.” Jess had still been outside at that point, helping the other women escape. But she had to know...
This wasn’t going to work. Martin was already far away, and Ruth was going to prison.
“I didn’t see what Ted did,” said Jess.
“Sorry?”
“Your dad. He went flying in through that door like he had wings. Did he see Robert hurt you?”
“I guess so. The first I knew, he was on top of him. He wasn’t strong enough though.”
“How is his shoulder?”
“Strong enough for him to do what he did tonight.”
“Yes. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. You helped us.”
Jess looked back at the house. “I need to get back in. I’m sure you can imagine the state Ben’s in.”
Sarah followed her gaze. Ben, Ruth’s husband, was someone she’d never had cause to speak to. This was the first time she’d spoken to his sister Jess at any length. But in the last week his wife had been abducted and then arrested. He had five-year-old twins to think about. He must be breaking down.
“Sorry. I’ll leave you to it. Maybe I can track Martin down.”
Jess visibly relaxed. “That would be a huge help. For Ruth.”
“Yes.”
Jess put her
hand on Sarah’s arm. “He helped you get out, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Is that why you wanted him to come back with us?”
Sarah blinked back tears. “It was a bad idea.”
“Maybe not at the time. But now, maybe yes.”
Sarah sniffed. “Go. Go to your brother. He needs you. I’ll try to help.”
“Thank you.” Jess opened the door and went into the house. It flickered with the warm light of a log fire. She thought of her own house after power-down, the single candle allowed in each occupied room.
Jess closed the door behind her. Sarah watched it for a moment as if it might open again, then turned. She dragged herself across the square.
Ted was outside their house, elbowing the door open. She felt her heart pick up pace. What would he do, when he found Dawn upstairs in bed?
She peered towards the main road – Martin, where are you? – then clenched her fists and walked towards home.
She opened the door as quietly as she could. The house was quiet. She slid inside, her eyes on the staircase.
A shadow loomed at the top.
She squared her shoulders as he descended in silence.
“Hello, love.”
“Hello.” Why was he being so normal?
“Your mum’s asleep.”
“Yes.” She’s not asleep, you bastard, she’s half conscious because of what you did to her.
“Best you go to bed too, eh.”
She frowned at him. No apology. No anger. No continuation from where he left off.
Was this what he was like with Dawn, after he hit her?
She looked past him, up the stairs. “I’d like to see Mum.”
“No, lass. She’s fast asleep. She won’t want you disturbing her.”
She stared up the stairs. The faint light of a candle glowed from her parents’ room. Did she dare stand up to him, barge past and insist on seeing Dawn? Would that make things worse for her mother?
“Right.”
He smiled at her, then turned and started climbing. She followed, trying to shut out the sound of his heavy footsteps. His breathing was laboured; his shoulder would be giving him pain. She wanted to hit him, to knock him down the stairs and make him land crookedly against the sofa, like he’d done to Dawn.
But Dawn wouldn’t want that. She wouldn’t thank her.
She tiptoed up after him, keeping her breathing under control. It was an effort.
He stopped just past her door and turned. He gave her another smile.
“’Night, then.”
She put her hand on the doorknob. “’Night.”
He watched as she slipped inside. She closed the door behind her and let herself breathe again.
She sat down on the bed. The curtains were open and the moon shone weakly into the room. She stood to see it better, out beyond the clifftop. Maybe she should throw herself off. Maybe that would be better for everyone.
She heard a scratching sound at her door and spun towards it. A key, turning.
She ran to it, turning the handle. It didn’t budge. She placed her hands on the wood, imagining him on the other side.
She wouldn’t call out. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
She retreated to her bed. She’d only slept ten hours in the last five days.
She lay down and let sleep wash over her.
Chapter Eighteen
It had been dark for hours, and there was no sign of Sarah. Martin had watched the final police car pass along the Parade, empty expect for its driver and a detective in the passenger seat.
Had Sarah gone to them? Had she told them what she’d need to, to release Ruth?
It wouldn’t work. The only thing that would lead to Ruth’s release was his own arrest.
They would be looking for him. No one from the village had told them he’d come back with them, as far as he knew. So they’d go to the farm.
That was where he needed to be.
He pushed the shed door open. The night was damp, a faint moon shining through scudding clouds. He shivered in his thin shirt. He’d need more than this if he was going to make the walk past Withernsea.
He heard voices beyond the edge of the allotment. Men. He crouched down low and listened. The sky was lightening a little, over the sea. Sunrise, already?
“She’s not what you think,” said one of the men.
“Not as old!” the other joked.
“Don’t.”
“She was our teacher, Zack.”
“Was being the operative word. That was years ago. We’re men now, not boys. She knows that.”
“So she likes you too?”
“I think so. There was something between us, when we were off looking for the women. Sorry.”
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“I said it’s alright. Tell me more about Jess. What’s she like in the sack?”
Martin heard the sound of a fist hitting fabric.
“Oof. You didn’t need to do that.”
“Don’t take the piss, little brother.”
“Not so much of the little. I’m bigger than you now. I’ve been doing weights.”
“Ten minutes, Sam. That’s all I’m saying. It counts.”
Martin held his breath, wishing the sky would stop brightening. He was behind a tiny shed in the middle of a featureless allotment. There was no way he could get away without them seeing him.
“So what about Sarah?”
“What about her?”
“Her mum’s keen on you. Is she?”
“She will be.”
“Don’t. I’ve seen enough of that sort of talk with Robert Cope.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. But once that Martin geezer is out of the way, she’ll come round.”
“I hope so, mate. She’s pretty.”
“I know. That hair.”
Martin closed his eyes and pictured Sarah’s hair. Even when matted and clogged with mud, it had an ethereal quality, strands of it wafting around her face like she was something out of a painting.
“Hang on. Here’s Danny. Craig too.”
“Better shut up about women then.”
“Oh no, mate. We’re getting all the mileage we can about you taking up with the steward.”
Again, Martin heard flesh hitting cloth. Then a chuckle, followed by more voices.
He ducked inside the shed. He was going to have to wait it out.
Chapter Nineteen
Daylight was filtering through Sarah’s thin curtains. She looked at the wind-up clock next to her bed: 9am.
She groaned. She’d slept over twelve hours, and her mother was out there alone.
She went to the door. It was still locked. She rattled the handle.
“Let me out! I need the toilet.”
Footsteps hurried up the stairs. She heard breathing behind the door.
“I’ve brought you some breakfast, love.”
“Mum? I need to get out. I’m bursting.”
A pause. “You promise you won’t try to run out again?”
She crossed her fingers. “Promise.”
She stepped back as her mother unlocked the door. She had a bruise across her forehead and the beginnings of a black eye.
Sarah reached a hand towards her but Dawn shrank back.
“Where’s Dad?”
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“He didn’t tell me. Here, take this.”
Dawn pushed a bowl of porridge into Sarah’s hands. Sarah put it on her bedside table.
“How are you?”
“I thought you needed the toilet.”
“That can wait. You were in a bad way, last night.”
Dawn looked at the carpet. It was pale blue, with stains where the sun had bleached it. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look it.”
Dawn looked up to make eye contact. “Do you need the toilet, or not?”
“Yes.”
Sar
ah pushed past her mother to the bathroom. When she returned, Dawn was gazing out of her bedroom window.
“You can’t keep me locked up in here.”
Dawn nodded towards the porridge. “Eat.”
“Where’s Snowy? He needs to be let out.”
“I’ve done it.” Dawn crossed to the door. “Eat that. You need to regain your strength, after everything that’s happened to you.”
Everything that’s happened to you. Was Dawn ever going to ask her about what happened? The abduction, the attempted rape, the escape? The killing.
“Mum? Can we talk, properly, please?”
There was a sound from downstairs. Dawn flung her head to one side, her nostrils flaring.
Silence. She looked back at Sarah and backed out of the room. “Eat.”
Dawn closed the door and locked it. Sarah ran to it, hammering it with her fists.
“Mum! Please! You can’t do this!”
“Your dad’s orders.”
“But he’s not here.”
Silence. Sarah hoped her mother wasn’t leaving.
“You’re going to let him imprison me?”
She heard movement against the door. Dawn was sliding down to the floor. Could she hear sobbing?
“I don’t want to antagonise him, love. Not after he hit you. We need to keep the peace. Until we can get you out of here. With Sam.”
“I’m not interested in Sam, for God’s sake!”
“Don’t blaspheme. You should be.”
“Mum, why is Dad doing this? He’s not normally this bad.”
“He’s scared, love.”
“What the hell does he have to be scared of?”
Silence again. Come back. Talk to me.
The key clattered in the lock and Dawn opened the door. “Mind your language. You don’t understand. This village is a place of refuge. It’s safe. Or it was. It’s not now. And you bringing that boy here hasn’t helped.”
“He helped me escape, Mum.”
“He also took you. Or have you forgotten that?”
Sarah slumped onto her bed. “No.” She looked at Dawn. “I’m confused, Mum. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“I know.” Dawn sat next to her and slid an arm around her shoulders. Her flesh was cold but the touch was welcome. Sarah leaned in, feeling her mother’s breath on her cheek.
Sea of Lies Page 7
