Terry must have gone out to Knole Park and got sussed. Matt would have to ring him up. Poor guy. On top of losing his fiancée, he now had the indignity of deeply personal stuff being made public. Matt shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.
‘I think Terry’s private life is exactly that. Private.’ He referred to the papers before him, indicating the subject was at a close. ‘Let’s review the proposals for the factory in Leeds.’
An hour later, Matt was in his BMW and heading back to Penshurst. Gregory had accepted every commercial solution with no protest. The guy’s mind had been elsewhere. Clearly Terry’s loss was Gregory’s gain. Matt sighed. It was none of his business. However, Terry was a good mate. He wondered how on earth the man was bearing up.
Matt touched the BMW’s voice command.
‘Call Terry Chandler.’
Seconds later the sound of a ring tone filled the cabin.
‘Hello?’
‘Tel. It’s Matt.’
‘How’re you doing, buddy?’
‘Yeah, so-so. Listen, I’m not going to beat about the bush. I hear the wedding’s off. Are you okay?’
Terry let out a sigh. ‘Surprisingly, I don’t feel too bad. A bit sad I suppose. After all, I cared a lot about Lucy.’
‘Cared? Isn’t that a bit of a wishy-washy word for the woman you are meant to love and adore?’
‘I guess so,’ said Terry bleakly. ‘I did love her, Matt, but not enough to change and be the person she wanted me to be. I can’t give Tracey up. And if you really love someone, then you’ll go that extra half mile for them. And I’m not prepared to. I like dressing up as a woman, Matt. I still like being a man, don’t get me wrong. I don’t feel like I’m trapped in the wrong body or anything like that. The bottom line is I happen to get comfort out of it. And I’m not hurting anybody.’
‘Mate, I couldn’t care less if you dress up as a gorilla or a Smurf. As long as you still like a beer, that’s good enough for me.’
‘Oh I do, Matt, I do,’ Terry said perking up. ‘Shall we have a jar together soon?’
‘Sounds like a plan. Listen, Tel, I have to go. Rosie’s ringing in.’
‘Ah, yes, Rosie. The woman who likes doing strange things with bowls of fruit. You see! I’m not alone.’
Matt grinned. ‘I think we need to have a chat about that at some point. I’ll catch you later, mate.’ He ended the call and accepted the incoming one. Matt felt his heart lift with the anticipation of hearing Rosie’s voice. He imagined her saying, “Hi, darling. I was just calling to see what time you’d be home. You see, I’m missing you.” That’s enough of that, Matthew. Stop daydreaming.
‘Hi, Rosie. How’s it going?’
There was a pause. And then the caller spoke.
‘It’s going just fine, Captain Marvel.’
Matt nearly drove up the backside of a lorry.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Rosie was in a state of terror. From the moment she’d encountered the swarthy looking man holding her son, her heart rate had gone berserk. Buckets of adrenalin had been whooshing around her body for what seemed like an eternity. She had alternated from sweating to shaking, to feeling petrified and impotent. Every part of her being cried out to attack the man with one of the many lamps dotted around Matt’s lounge, but she didn’t dare risk it for fear of the man harming Luke. Her mind darted back to the moment she’d discovered she wasn’t alone.
‘Thanks for leaving a window open in your bedroom, Rosie. It makes debt collecting so much easier when I can gain access.’ The shark had nodded at Luke in his arms. ‘This is such a lovely little boy you have.’
‘I beg you, don’t hurt him,’ Rosie had pleaded.
‘Hurt him? Why would I hurt him? He’s worth money. Nobody wants damaged goods, do they?’
‘Give him to me, please.’ Rosie, still clutching the remote control in one hand, had held her arms out.
‘No, Rosie. No, you may not have him. However, keep holding your arms up. Yes, like that. Reach out for your son, Rosie.’
‘What is this? Some sick mind game?’
‘Maybe. You see, I’m wondering whether to break your arms, Rosie. You won’t be able to hold your son then, will you? What should it be? Arms, or legs?’
Rosie had instantly dropped her arms and backed away. Slowly the man had started to edge towards her. She’d positioned herself so that an armchair was between the two of them. Luke, sensing tension, had started to grizzle.
‘Please, put my son down. He’s teething and miserable at the moment. He needs his mummy.’
‘I have a new mummy all lined up for him. Your boy is coming with me. This evening he’ll be on a plane to America. I have a courier all set to deliver him, false passport, the works.’
At that point Rosie had started screaming. She’d not been able to help herself. She’d had no idea if anybody would hear, given that so many of these apartments were second homes and the occupants seemed to be elsewhere. Even though a voice in her head had implored her to be quiet because she wasn’t helping the situation, the fact remained that, unlike the remote control, she didn’t have a stop button. Her shrieks and cries of distress had reverberated around the lounge, thoroughly unsettling Luke so that he’d joined in the cacophony. The shark had dropped him like a hot coal, and the little boy had tumbled down into the armchair between Rosie and her tormentor. In a flash, the shark had produced a gun.
‘Shut the fuck up, bitch, or I’ll silence you forever.’
Rosie had clamped both hands and the remote control over her mouth.
‘Now pick up that screaming brat of yours and make him quiet.’
Trembling violently, her eyes not leaving the shark’s face, she’d craned forward and grabbed Luke, before smartly leaping back again. Luke had instantly quietened.
‘That’s better. Now listen to me, Rosie, and listen carefully. Your dearly departed hubby owed me a lot of money. I don’t give a shit if the law says the debt died with him. I’m out of pocket, and I’m looking to you to reimburse me. And swiftly. Got it?’
‘I-I told you,’ Rosie had stuttered, ‘there’s a life policy. I spoke to the insurance company today. It’s in hand. I can give you a cheque–’
‘I don’t do cheques, you stupid cow,’ the shark had roared, ‘I do cash. Hard cash.’
‘O-okay. I will give you the cash. I will draw it all out.’
‘But when, Rosie? These things take time. Too much time.’
‘I-I’ll tell the insurance company it’s an emergency.’
‘And what about your house?’
Rosie had looked blankly at the shark.
‘Have you yet instructed an estate agent about the sale of your house, Rosie?’ The shark had noted Rosie’s stricken face. ‘Ah, I thought not. Where’s the sense of urgency, Rosie? Did you have no intention of putting the house on the market? Did you think I’d go away now that you’ve been in touch with the police?’
‘I-it’s only Monday,’ Rosie stammered, ‘I-I’ve had an awful lot to deal with – like arranging a funeral.’
‘I appreciate that. But, with respect, that’s not my problem. This is a nice pad you’re staying in. I take it the place belongs to Captain Marvel? Your boyfriend is clearly worth a few quid, Rosie. I think he’s perfectly able to make an interim payment, don’t you?’
‘H-he’s not my boy–’
‘Shut up. I need to do some thinking. I feel stressed.’ The shark had raked his hair with one hand, but had thankfully put the gun away. ‘Let’s wait for your boyfriend to come home. Meanwhile, put the telly on.’
Rosie had darted over to the television and pressed the on button, before stabbing the remote control. The shark had made himself comfortable on a sofa, while Rosie repositioned herself with the armchair, like a shield, in front of her. The shark had refused her permission to leave the room. Luke had grizzled and complained at missing his dinner, and finally nodded off again on her shoulder. The remainder of the afternoon had passed in a
surreal state with an old Christmas special of Only Fools and Horses playing on the screen. As the signature tune kicked in and the titles came up, the shark turned to Rosie.
‘Turn it off.’
Rosie did as she was told. The telephone handset, which Rosie had abandoned earlier after her phone call to Hester, was still on the sofa and next to the shark. He picked it up.
‘What’s your boyfriend’s number? I want to speak to him.’
And now, all Rosie could do was listen to the shark giving his orders to Matt. From the conversation this end, she could only hazard a guess at what Matt was saying.
‘It was a piece of cake finding you, Captain Marvel. You see, men like you might think you are superheroes, but you’re not. You believe you’ve got brains, but you haven’t. You rushed off to the police, without even checking your rear view mirror as to who might be following you. And then you zoomed down here, thinking you were safe, when what you actually did was show me where you live. I know so much about you, Captain Marvel. Where you work. Who you visit. Even where some of your friends live. You’re worth a fortune, pal. So is that geyser mate of yours over in Sevenoaks. The one that likes tootling around in a frock. What’s that all about? Actually, don’t tell me, I’m not interested. I just want my money. Let’s call it a nice round two hundred-and-fifty grand and then I promise I’ll go away and leave you two lovebirds in peace.’ There was a pause. When the shark spoke again his voice was harsh. ‘What do you mean you don’t have that sort of money? Of course you can get your hands on it, Captain Marvel. You’ve probably got a Swiss bank account with a tidy sum tucked away. And I’ll bet that doggy dinner factory you drive to every day has more than ten pounds in the petty cash box, not to mention financial assistance from your weird mate, Mrs Doubtfire. I’m sure he – or should I say she? – will help a pal out. Who knows what other secrets are hidden in her bloomers…maybe a key to a safe? Now what I suggest is that I take Rosie’s dear little lad with me for insurance and–’
Rosie could feel her knees buckling. She couldn’t take much more of this. As she sank down to the floor, Luke still in her arms, she vowed she would do everything in her power to stop this vile man from taking her son.
‘Oh dear, Captain Marvel, it seems as though your girlfriend is swooning, but for all the wrong reasons.’
Upon hearing the shark’s words, a light bulb went on in Rosie’s head. As she hit the carpet, she curled herself over Luke and made sure the hand holding the remote control was flung outwards across the carpet. She was ninety-nine per cent sure the shark wouldn’t shoot either her or Luke. He wanted his money – and he wanted Luke for insurance.
‘Keep your cape on, Captain Marvel. She’s simply fainted. Hang on a minute, I need to take that baby off her.’
The shark walked over to Rosie and nudged her with his foot. Rosie allowed her torso to roll away from Luke. Keeping her eyelashes lowered, she watched as the shark bent down to pick up her son – and in that moment Rosie turned into a lioness protecting her cub. Gripping the remote control, she brought up her arm and smashed the gadget with all her might against the back of the shark’s head.
The shark grunted in pain. ‘You fucking little–’
Rosie didn’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence. She smashed the remote control against his head again, and sprang to her feet. Now she had the advantage – she was standing over him. The shark abandoned trying to pick Luke up and instead twisted around. An arm shot out as he tried to grab her ankle in an attempt to pull her over. Rosie jumped smartly out of the way and aimed a hard kick up the shark’s backside. Her foot connected with soft parts and the shark bellowed with pain, both hands shooting down to clutch his vitals. As he writhed in agony, Rosie danced around him, moving back up to his head. Leaning over him she rained down more blows with the remote control. Such was her force, the remote control’s back came off and the batteries flew out. Luke was now screaming his head off at all the commotion. But Rosie couldn’t pick him up. Not yet. She had a shark to dispose of. She bashed, and bashed, and bashed some more. Now she’d broken skin on the shark’s forehead. Blood was pouring into his hair.
Rosie was panting with exertion, but she couldn’t stop. She didn’t dare. Even though the shark was no longer moving.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Matt was driving as fast as he dared. The BMW shot off the A21 and joined the Bidborough Ridge. He was only three or four minutes from home now. What a nightmare journey. One moment the shark had been coldly demanding money and instructing Matt to obtain it by any means available – even calling upon friends like Terry if need be – and in the next all hell had broken loose.
‘Rosie? Rosie? For God’s sake, Rosie, talk to me!’
All Matt could hear was Luke’s background screams which were punctuated by the closer grunting noises of Rosie and thwack, thwack, thwack. Matt dithered. He didn’t know whether to stay on the line and wait for the shark to possibly speak to him again, or hang up and phone the police. If he hung up, he’d risk losing a connection to the shark and keeping track of where he was. He opted to stay connected.
Matt was outside the grounds to his apartment now. He waited impatiently for the electric gates to slowly swing back on their hinges. As soon as the aperture was wide enough, he hit the accelerator. The back wheels spewed shingle as the vehicle shot forward. Slinging the steering wheel to the left, Matt let the vehicle bounce down the gravel track towards his apartment block.
Abandoning the car, Matt raced along the shrub-lined pathways that took him up to his apartment’s front door. Rosie’s bedroom window faced this side, towards him...and it was wide open. Matt skidded to a halt outside. The curtain was flapping gently in the down draft. He paused to listen, but all he could hear was his own heart banging away in his eardrums. A part of him now wished he had called the police. Just what the hell was he going to find in there? Matt hesitated. Maybe the shark was lying in wait for him, for the moment when the sound of a key slid into the front door’s barrel lock, in which case perhaps he should surprise the shark by silently entering the apartment through the bedroom window? Matt made his decision. Leaning in, he grabbed hold of the curtain and stuck one leg over the windowsill. His foot connected with the ground and, jiggling about, he carefully lifted his other leg in. However, he didn’t get very far. The trouser material had caught on something. Matt hopped about trying to free his raised leg. Ouch! The fabric must have caught on a small nail. Geez. If the shark came in the bedroom right now and found him like this, he’d be very vulnerable. He made his decision – sod the suit. Clutching the curtain for dear life, Matt did his best to shake off the nail. There was a ripping sound as fabric began to tear, and finally a small pop as the nail released. But Matt’s balance was upset. As he wobbled about on one leg trying to get his other leg through the window, he found himself staggering backwards. There was a moment where the curtain went taut and he almost recovered his footing, but then the rail broke away from its fixings and once again he was flailing about. As he toppled backwards, engulfed in metres of damask, the curtain pole bounced off the window sill making enough noise to wake the dead.
Horrified, Matt fought his way out of the curtains and hastily crawled on all fours to Luke’s empty cot. Ducking down, he almost curled into a ball. Peering through the underside of the cot, he half expected to see a pair of male legs appear in the bedroom doorway. Matt was now dripping in sweat while his heart seemed to be doing gymnastics against his ribcage. He held his breath, with the sensation that the apartment was doing likewise, to see what, if anything, happened next. A minute passed. And then two. He made himself wait until a full three minutes had elapsed.
Slowly, Matt straightened up. There was nobody here. The apartment was empty. Indeed, the silence was so profound, it almost hurt his ears. He let out a shaky breath. Right, no more messing about. He’d do a quick recce of the apartment, and then call the police. At the end of the day Mr Shark had clearly broken into the apartment – the open windo
w told him that much – and dragged Rosie and Luke off with him. Matt’s guts twisted at the thought of Rosie and Luke being in the shark’s clutches. There wasn’t another moment to lose. To hell with this man trying to wreck their lives! As Matt strode towards the open bedroom door, his foot connected with an unseen plastic toy car. It squashed into the carpet letting out a comical beep. Matt stooped to pick it up. If that shark had harmed Luke in any way, Matt would personally seek him out and inflict serious damage. For a moment he was surprised at the fierce wave of protectiveness that engulfed him. He could totally identify with parents who aimed they would harm someone to protect their child.
Matt stepped into the hallway, and in the split second that followed, he realised he’d severely underestimated a potential opponent. His last thought, as the floor rushed up to greet him, was one of shocked surprise.
Chapter Thirty-Six
As Matt fell at her feet, Rosie jumped back in horror. She dropped the remote control and sank to her knees.
‘Matt? Oh, dear God, please don’t let Matt die too.’
Rosie was shaking like an aspen. She couldn’t take any more of this. A dead pig, a dead husband, a dead loan shark, and now a dead landlord. How was she going to explain everything to the police? Rosie stuffed a fist into her mouth. She’d go to prison for this. Luke would be taken away from her. And her mother would go berserk and demand how she would ever be able to hold her head up high in front of the gels again.
‘Ahhh,’ Matt groaned and stirred.
‘Oh, thank you, God, thank you,’ Rosie gibbered.
‘I’m not God.’ Matt touched his head and squinted at her. ‘I’ve told you that before.’
‘I was thanking God that you’re not dead,’ said Rosie, looking at Matt with huge frightened eyes.
Matt hauled himself upright. ‘And happily neither are you. What did you belt me for?’
The Perfect Marriage Page 15
