by Dan Scottow
Diana glares at Lucy, lips parted in an unspoken question.
‘Yes… that’s right, Diana. Your husband took the shackles off my wrists. He trusted me. He allowed me to walk free around that… place. Men are so easy to manipulate if you learn how. And when I had him exactly where I needed him, as soon as he allowed me to get off that gurney, I took my chance. I ran. And guess what? I’m certain he didn’t even try to catch me. He wanted me to get away.’
Diana strides to the settee, striking Lucy across the cheek with the back of her hand.
‘Shut up!’
Lucy tastes blood in her mouth, but she knows she’s hit a nerve. She grins.
‘You haven’t heard the best part yet…’
‘I said shut up! I don’t want to hear any more from you!’
Lucy pauses, waiting. Diana hobbles up and down the living room. She stops at the window, staring out to the street below. Lucy edges forwards on the cushion, quietly, slowly. Diana spins, thrusting the gun towards her.
‘Get back on that fucking sofa! Now!’ Spittle flies from her mouth. ‘Put your hands where I can see them! Behind your head!’
Lucy hesitates.
‘NOW! Do it! Don’t think I won’t shoot you right in that pretty little face of yours… because I will! I will blow your fucking brains out! And I’ll take great pleasure in doing it!’
Lucy laces her fingers together, resting them on her hair. The record finishes, and static crackles through the speakers, as the needle remains stuck, clicking in the run-out groove.
The women’s eyes meet. Lucy can tell she has rattled Diana’s cage. Until this point, she has seemed calm, calculated, as if she was executing a meticulous plan. Now she is agitated. Furious, in fact. She stares at Lucy, eyes wide, looking every bit like the madwoman she remembers.
Diana turns suddenly, kicking the record player. Lucy wouldn’t have believed she had the strength or dexterity if she hadn’t seen it for herself. A horrendous scratching sound emits from the speakers, as the blow sends the hi-fi hurtling, crashing to the ground. The stylus arm breaks off, rattling across the floorboards.
The room is quiet, apart from the hum of traffic from the busy street. Lucy’s head, still cloudy from whatever Diana injected her with, pounds.
‘I think you’ll want to hear this,’ Lucy says, gleefully.
‘There is nothing you have to say that is of any interest to me.’
Lucy fixes her with a stare, a smile plays on her lips.
‘I drove the van into your taxi. It was me. Obviously, I hadn’t intended on either of you living… but that’s why I came to Scotland. To finish the job. It took me a while to track you down, but I got there in the end.’
Diana pauses, raising her hand to the side of her face. She caresses the rough tendrils of her scar with her fingertips as she stares into space.
‘Valentina recognised me… she’d been looking at some old newspaper cutting from that night, and saw me, lingering in the crowd. She called the house to warn you… thank heavens you were off your head at the time. I intercepted her voicemail message before you. That could have ruined everything. So… she had to go. I was so close. Couldn’t have her spoiling things.’
A sadness fills Diana’s face, changing quickly to fury.
‘And there’s something else. Even better…’
The woman glances at Lucy, but it’s as if she’s staring through her.
‘Claire.’
Diana takes a step towards the sofa.
‘What did you say?’ she whispers, eyes bulging from their sockets so much that Lucy thinks they might pop.
‘I told her about Richard. I slipped the photograph under her door.’
Diana screams, swiping her arm over the top of the sideboard. Lucy’s ornaments, television, everything… go flying across the room, smashing into pieces on the floor. Diana howls like an injured animal, spinning towards Lucy.
‘You! Do you know what you did? What you caused?’ Diana lunges at Lucy, striking her with the butt of the gun. A sharp pain radiates through her head. She closes her eyes as a warm trickle weaves its way down her face, running into her ear, and dripping onto her shoulder.
‘He killed her. Richard killed our daughter. She wasn’t going to let it drop. She had a photo of him with a dead girl. She didn’t realise it, of course… but it was only a matter of time until she recognised the face in that picture. She was on the front page of so many newspapers… we had to… we had no choice.’
‘There’s always a choice, Diana. You chose to kill those girls. To watch while your husband raped us. Tortured us. You both chose to murder your own daughter to protect yourselves. You picked that life. Nobody forced it onto you.’
Diana inhales deeply. She lets out a long, steady breath. Her body shakes, but as she breathes in and out, she regains control.
‘I should have killed you as soon as you started flirting with Mylo,’ she spits.
Lucy smirks.
‘He used to flirt with me terribly, you know, the same way he did with you. Until that bitch Rose showed up… made her slutty eyes at him, and he wasn’t interested in me anymore. I knew that she had to go. I hadn’t planned on it being quite so… final, for her though. If her employment was terminated… then surely their relationship would have to end? But then she came home early that night… caught me in her room again.’
‘Are you saying that Rose’s death wasn’t an accident?’
Diana smiles a triumphant smile.
101
Rose
Rose waves as Mylo’s boat hums away into the distance. Giddy, she removes her shoes, skipping across the grass. She’s drunk too much champagne. But she doesn’t care. She can finally leave this shitty job. Cassie has sorted her with some temporary bar work at her father’s marina, and after that, she’ll find something more long term. The important thing is, she won’t have to deal with Diana’s craziness anymore.
She crosses to the back door, pushing it open. Stepping inside, she spies a half-empty bottle of red on the side. The house is quiet. Diana is usually in bed by now, so that’s not strange. She’ll be unconscious, doped up to her eyeballs, out for the count until at least ten the following morning.
She picks up the wine, swigging it straight from the bottle. It tastes expensive. All of Diana’s wine is expensive. Stuck up cow, she thinks.
Smiling, she drains the rest, wiping drips from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.
‘Oopsie!’ she says, giggling, placing the empty bottle down on the bench.
A creak above her head raises her eyes to the ceiling.
She steps out into the hallway. Diana’s door is wide open. Frowning, she peeks inside. Empty.
‘Diana?’ she calls, voice shaky.
She turns, heading up the stairs. When she’s about halfway up, Diana comes limping out of her room. Swaying. Drunk, as usual.
‘Rose,’ she says, flustered. Her cheeks colour. Caught in the act.
‘I didn’t expect you back so early!’
Her hand drifts to her thick braid, and she strokes it gently, the way she always does when she’s feeling guilty. Rose continues to the top of the stairs.
‘Evidently,’ she spits. ‘In my room again, I see. Did you have a good read?’
Diana blinks a few times, tries to avoid Rose’s eyes.
‘I was… putting some of your laundry away for you.’
Rose laughs.
‘That would be funny if it wasn’t so ridiculous.’
Diana cocks her head.
‘You’re lazy, Diana. You don’t do a thing. You barely even paint… you sit, and you drink. That’s all you ever do. You’re pathetic!’
Diana takes a few steps towards the stairs.
‘Get out of my way. You’re drunk. You’ll regret this in the morning.’
Rose doesn’t budge.
‘No, Diana, I won’t. Because I’m leaving.’
She raises an eyebrow.
‘Yes, you h
eard me. Mylo and I are engaged!’ She thrusts her hand in front of the older woman’s face, wiggling the diamond ring back and forth. ‘I’m moving in with him… and I don’t need this crappy job anymore. So have a good read. Fill your boots. I don’t care. Because it’s the last time you ever will.’
Diana’s mouth opens, but she closes it without speaking.
‘And you know what? I’m taking him away from this place. We’re going to move away. To Glasgow. Maybe even back to London. Anywhere… as far from you as I can get.’
Panic flashes into Diana’s eyes.
‘Oh… that hit a nerve, didn’t it? Your precious Mylo won’t be coming around anymore. Do you actually think he would look twice at an old hag like you?’
‘Shut up!’ Diana shouts, stepping closer.
‘Shall I tell you what he thinks about you? He thinks you’re disgusting! Pathetic. He says that scar on your face repulses him. We laugh about you, Diana, when we’re alone together. We laugh at you–’
‘Shut up!’ Diana screams, ‘Shut up, shut up, shut UP!’
She thrusts her arms, jabbing her palms into Rose’s shoulders, giving her a heavy shove.
The girl topples, eyes wide, mouth open.
Diana shuffles forward, watching. She stretches her hand out, but it’s too late. Rose is beyond her reach. She falls awkwardly, landing with a loud thud as her head connects with wood. She continues tumbling backwards down the full length of the staircase.
Diana swears she hears a crack as Rose’s neck snaps.
The descent seems to take forever, but in reality it’s over in a second. The blink of an eye.
The girl lies lifeless at the bottom of the stairs, the back of her skull wedged against a plug socket.
Diana’s hand flies to her mouth.
‘My God!’ she whispers, as a dark pool forms around the body, spreading out across the floorboards.
‘Rose?’ But Diana knows she’s dead. Her eyes are wide open. Neck at an odd angle.
She takes a few deep breaths, moving down towards the hall. She fiddles with her plait, standing on the bottom step. Before the blood spreads too far, she steps over it, trying desperately to avoid any contact, and crosses to her bedroom. She flashes one last glance at Rose, before closing her door.
She grabs a bottle of her strongest sleeping pills from her bedside drawer, throwing three of them into her mouth, washing them down with a glass of dusty water. Resting her cane against the wall, she reclines back onto her pillow.
As the tablets suck her down into the depths of unconsciousness, she smiles.
102
Lucy
She sits staring at the woman, lips parted slightly, considering what to say. It’s not that surprising. She’d always wondered, and the revelation that Diana was aware of Richard’s activities, and even encouraged them, demonstrated that she is capable of anything.
‘It pushed him closer to me in the months following her death. He came to the cottage more… I think he found comfort there, knowing it’s where she had lived. He would sit in her room crying. It broke my heart to see him like that. I would comfort him as he lay on the sofa, face resting on my breast, while I stroked his hair. It was beautiful. She was gone, and he was mine once more.’
Lucy shakes her head.
‘So… you tracked us down, and came to finish the job. Was this not enough?’ Diana screams, waving her hand in front of her face, motioning to her scar. ‘Was Claire, not enough?’
Lucy lets out a breath.
‘I may not have died in that room… but part of me did. I can’t explain to you… you won’t care, anyway. But it destroyed something in me… that experience. I could never really give myself to anyone. Was ashamed of the scars that your husband left on my body. Embarrassed by intimacy… so although I escaped from that place… he may as well have killed me. Because I stopped living anyway. My entire existence became about tracking him down. Fortunately, I knew his hunting ground, and he was a creature of habit. I didn’t have to hang around those bars long before I found him. At first, I was worried that he might recognise me… I disguised myself, of course, but still… it was a concern. But he was so arrogant, he didn’t even notice me. Walked right past me. And his hubris allowed me to follow him quite easily… to find out where he lived.’
Diana shrugs.
‘I’ll never forget when I first saw you. So beautiful… it broke my heart. I had never imagined that he would be married, let alone have a family. I was surprised. I wanted to tell you… A few times I almost knocked on your door, when I knew you were there by yourself. But my desire to hurt him, outweighed my instinct to help a stranger. And to think… you were aware all along, anyway. I’d hoped that showing the photo to Claire would get you to leave him… but it didn’t work. Now I understand why. I thought you were just stupid and devoted.’
Lucy shifts her weight on the sofa, sliding her hands underneath her thighs. Glancing out the window briefly, she sighs, returning her gaze to Diana.
‘So I followed you both. A lot. And that night in London, when you were on your way to wherever you were going… all dressed up… I saw how smug and happy he looked… I had never planned to do it then… but something took over me. Knowing that I would never feel like that again myself. It drove me crazy seeing him smiling. It didn’t seem fair. I don’t even remember the crash. It’s almost as if I wasn’t there. I found myself standing in the crowd, staring at the mangled vehicles. Nobody witnessed me get out of the van. They were all too focused on you and Richard. I watched as those ambulances took you both away, and I felt guilty. That I had hurt you. Can you imagine? And then picture my horror when I read in the paper that you had both survived.’
Diana fixes her with a cold glare.
‘Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?’ she says indignantly.
Lucy fidgets in her seat.
The woman takes a few steps towards Lucy. Suddenly remembering the gun in her hand, she raises her arm, pointing it at her adversary.
‘You ruined my life. Took everything from me–’
‘And what about you? What did you take from me?’ Lucy screams.
‘You were just a cheap whore. Never supposed to leave that room!’
‘I was a different person when I met Richard in that bar… or Michael as he told me his name was. I was broke, my family had disowned me… I’d resorted to things I’m not proud of to make ends meet. I never wanted to be that girl. I was desperate. But I didn’t deserve what you and he did to me. Nobody does.’
Diana crouches in front of the settee, weapon levelled at Lucy’s chest.
‘You should have died there… like the others. I should’ve known he would screw it up. He was always so good at that. Thinking with what was in his pants instead of his brain. Typical man.’
Lucy slides her fingers down between the cushions beneath her.
‘But don’t you worry, Lucy… I intend to put that right. Finish what we started all those years ago. You should have killed me when you had the chance.’
Lucy wraps her hand around something hard, hidden under the seat.
‘A situation like that changes a person, Diana.’
She smirks unsympathetically.
‘Being abducted… held captive. Tortured. It teaches you to never let your guard down. Always be prepared. And I am.’
She swings her arm up, bringing with it the small knife which she keeps concealed in the sofa, plunging the blade into Diana’s shoulder. The woman howls in agony, dropping the pistol. Lucy shoves her, and she topples backwards onto the floor. The gun clatters over the ground, disappearing beneath a sideboard.
Lucy springs up. She can’t make it to the door, Diana is in her way, clambering to her feet… the window is her only option. She bounds across the room, throwing open one of the large double windows.
‘Help me!’ she screams.
Bemused faces glance up, unsure what is happening. Some people smile, assuming it’s a joke. Others ignore her entirely.
<
br /> ‘She’s trying to kill me! Call the police! Please!’
The crowds below continue to mill around, drifting in and out of shops. Some are now looking up with worried expressions, but the majority behave as if this is totally normal.
Suddenly, Diana grabs Lucy’s hair from behind, wrenching her backwards. She yelps as she is tugged away from the window. Screaming, she spins towards her attacker. The blade still protrudes from Diana’s shoulder. Lucy reaches forward, twisting it, and the woman screeches. Blood soaks into her coat. Diana’s hand flies up, slapping Lucy across the cheek. She pulls the knife out of her body, hurling it across the room.
Lucy grabs Diana’s forearms, knowing that she has the advantage of strength. They struggle, Diana trying to pull her arms free from Lucy’s grip, twisting, writhing… but Lucy is stronger. Diana pushes forward, making Lucy stumble back. She feels the edge of the low windowsill behind her thighs.
‘Help me!’ she screams again.
She hears murmurings from the crowd far below.
‘Is she okay?’
‘It’s a joke!’
Diana’s hands find their way to Lucy’s throat. She wraps her fingers around it and begins to squeeze. Lucy tries to push back, but as she struggles to breathe, she feels herself begin to lean precariously out through the window.
‘Your little friend isn’t here to save you this time, is she?’ Diana hisses, wincing as the pressure on her leg takes its toll. Lucy shifts, squirms. Her arms wobble now. She’s gripping Diana’s wrists, but she can’t get free from her grip. She tries to turn her head to one side. She knows she has to act. It’s now or never. Her strength is beginning to wane.
Allowing her legs to slide down, she ducks, falling to the floor, simultaneously thrusting her knees up as hard as she can muster. Diana, still moving forward with all her power, freefalls. With no counter force against her any longer, she topples through the window with a howl. Lucy hears a dull thud.
