by Lown, Anne
“It all looks quiet from here,” he said.
His voice snapped her back to the moment. She’d been thinking about what had happened. He was adamant he hadn’t seen anyone else out in the field, but that didn’t tell her why he’d needed to rescue her—or why he’d even been there in the first place. The inside of the car felt suffocating. Foreboding pressed in on her. She had to get out. Jenny turned off the engine and wrenched open the door. Standing on the road, she inhaled a lungful of air.
The unlit windows brought images of skulls with their hollowed-out eyes. It was supposed to be her safe haven, but right then she didn’t want to go inside. That was until she flinched at a neighbour’s cat’s squall. Jenny shivered. The empty house took on a new persona.
Jason marched in front like a bodyguard. He surveyed all he could in the dark before declaring the front garden secure. Even with him standing beside her while she opened the front door, she wished for nothing more than to run and hide. She reached inside and flicked on the hallway light.
Nothing about Jason’s movements seemed stressed or out of place. He shrugged off his jacket and slung it over a chair in the living room. A slight smudge of mud transferred to the fabric. It was nothing in the grand scheme of the last few days, but somehow it rankled her.
“Coffee?” she asked, trying to seem unnerved as she walked into the kitchen.
“Hmm, yes please.”
Jenny filled the kettle then switched it on. Stealing a moment, she leant against the sink and scrunched her fingers into her fringe. The pain from the pulled hairs was both soothing and life affirming. She had to get a grip on the situation and send Scott a text message. He’d be livid once he knew and want her to phone the police, but what could she say? Someone unknown had chased her in the field and Jason had come to her rescue? It sounded crazy, and she knew it. She pulled her phone from her jacket pocket and went in search of the charger.
She left it on her bedside table. The power light came on. It’d be a few minutes before the phone had enough juice to get it up and running, but she didn’t want to stay there while it did. Jason was waiting downstairs for his coffee. She tore herself away and headed back to the kitchen.
The clink of a spoon against crockery alerted her to what was going on. She rounded the bottom newel post to see him busy making the drinks. “Thanks for doing that,” she said, trying to sound more relaxed.
“Are you feeling better now you’re home?”
Concern gathered in his face. How could she doubt him? Confusion reigned as her loyalty to him swung back and forth like the pendulum of a grandfather clock.
“I’ll be all right.” She gave his forearm a little squeeze. It was the reassurance they both needed.
Jason carried their cups through to the living room where neither of them looked at the wall above the sofa. She slipped off her coat and dropped it on the nearest unpacked box overflowing with her hats and scarfs. He waited until she sat before passing her a cup and then sat beside her. The room was still in disarray. Nothing was getting done in the house, and the feeling of being out of sorts overwhelmed her.
Do I still want to live here?
An awkward silence stood between them until she couldn’t stand it anymore. “What were you doing in the fields so late?”
His answer came too slow. “I was taking a walk, trying to clear my head.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Jason was quiet, the gulf between them becoming a chasm. Finally, he relented. “I was following Martin.”
“Martin? Why, what for?”
He shrugged. “Just had a bad feeling about him.”
Jenny twisted her upper body so she could almost see his face. “You’re telling me Martin was in the field tonight? Why would he be there?”
“I don’t know. I saw him leave the pub and walk that way.” Jason met her gaze. “Like I said, I was trying to clear my head and had nothing better to do, so I followed him.”
It sounded stupid, but that didn’t make it a lie. He had a habit of disappearing when he was upset, like he couldn’t stand to be cooped up indoors with his emotions.
“Did he know you were there?” she asked.
“I don’t think so. I can be pretty quiet when I want to be, and I kept my distance.”
“Was he following me?” The thought of being stalked by Martin after she’d seen the look he’d given Dave had her shuddering.
“No, you just happened to be there. He seemed a bit too interested, though, so I went past him in a big circle to head him off. Then I heard you both running and tried to get to you first.”
“What do you think he wanted?”
Jason put his hand on her knee. “I don’t want to think about that, I’m just glad nothing happened.”
Jenny stood and took her cup back to the kitchen. In the hallway, she heard her phone ringing from the bedroom. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
She climbed the stairs, but the ringing stopped before she got to it. The display faced up and showed seven missed calls. The power bar hadn’t filled past a fifth of its capacity, but she pulled out the electrical wire anyway. She pressed the return call icon and waited for it to be answered on the other end.
“Hey, Scott.”
“Where the hell have you been?”
“My phone was out of power, it’s only just started charging.”
“I’ve been trying to call you, I’ve been so worried.”
“I broke down. My tyre burst, and the recovery vehicle took an age to arrive.”
There was a gap in the conversation. She listened. She could hear him blowing out a breath on the other end. It was clearer than the music playing in the background. He was outside one of Bishop’s Old Town bars.
“Make sure you lock the doors and don’t let anyone in, including that Jason.”
“But he’s here. Someone chased me in the field, and he saved me.”
“Someone what?” Scott’s voice was so loud she thought the whole village would hear him. “Get rid of him and phone me back when he’s gone.”
“You’re scaring me. I’m getting so confused I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“Just do as I say and phone me back, all right?”
A noise sounded behind her—the floorboard creaking under the weight of someone crossing the landing. She turned to see Jason standing in her bedroom doorway, his brow furrowed. She had no idea how long he’d been standing there or what he’d heard of the conversation.
“Just on my way to the toilet,” he said.
Jenny nodded and put her phone back on charge. She felt jittery and defeated when she pushed past him and descended the stairs. Behind her, the bathroom door closed. She paced the living room floor. Somehow, she needed to ask him to leave without him knowing why. No thoughts entered her head.
What the hell am I going to say?
Chapter Thirty-One
Jenny waited in the living room, her palms slick with perspiration. She rubbed them down her thighs, the material of her jeans prickling their nerve endings. Jason was taking his time in the bathroom. She entwined her fingers to stop wringing her hands.
What’s keeping him?
An urge to run out of the house and into the street fought for her attention. Jenny paced the floor again. She unlocked her hands and jammed them into her armpits. A creak from a floorboard overhead jarred her from her thoughts.
That’s my bedroom.
Her gaze followed the weight of his footsteps returning to the landing and descending the stairs. Jason appeared in the doorway.
“I need you to go.”
“What? But we’ve only just got here!”
“I know, but I’ve had quite a day and need to be by myself right now. You understand, right?” She turned her gaze away, not wanting to crumble if she saw his face.
“Is that what Scott told you to say?”
It looked like he’d heard more of the conversation than she’d wanted and might not be so easy to get rid of. Jenny
lifted her hand to her hair and ran her fingers through it, tugging the strands as she went. Causing herself pain helped in its own strange way, but it wasn’t getting him out of the house any sooner. “I’ll call round tomorrow, all right?” She sat on the sofa, not knowing what to do with her own body.
“No!”
His raised voice startled and angered her. Who did he think he was, dictating terms in her own home? She was about to protest when he spoke again.
“I saved you, and this is how you treat me?”
“Did you?” Jenny leapt up from where she was seated. “How do I know it wasn’t only you out there in the field with me?”
Jason turned his back on her, the tension in his muscles evident through his t-shirt, his hands curled into fists with bright white knuckles. “I saved you,” he said again.
“I want you to leave—now.”
Jenny made an attempt to walk to the front door to emphasise her point. She strode past him when he whirled around with something in his hands and hooked it over her head, wrapping it firmly around her neck. It was her winter scarf—it had been discarded on the top of the open box by the wall
She flung her hands up to grab at the scarf, clawing to loosen its growing tightness. Jenny’s eyes bulged. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to protest, but panic ran through her system. Her right leg kicked out in front of her while the other one swayed in response to the direction he swung her.
“Please, no.” The words were barely audible.
Again, she clawed at the scarf. This time her fingers gained purchase under the fabric, and she used the chance to thrust them in farther, scratching her skin with her nails. Jenny turned her head. She caught his gaze and almost balked. He looked intent on his actions and seemed to be enjoying their results. His eyes were as cold as the open night sky in mid-winter.
“No,” she tried again.
Her body continued to sway in time with his movement, and she thought she was going to pass out. Terror gripped her. A cold sweat peppered her skin, and adrenaline pumped with the icy blood that ran through her veins.
The scarf released, and she slumped to the floor. He’d let her go. Jenny grabbed at it and snatched it from her neck. She choked and sobbed in rattled breaths, not daring to look up at him. She didn’t need to.
He leant over her and hissed through clenched teeth, “I’ll go when I’m ready.”
She sat on the carpet and didn’t dare move. Her heightened hearing followed his footsteps—he’d left the room. The front door flung open, banging into the inner wall and no doubt ruining the plasterwork. Right then she didn’t care. She struggled to her feet and threw herself into the hallway, seized the door, and rammed it shut. The locks couldn’t be applied quick enough with her trembling fingers slipping over the metal and missing the security chain in her attempt to land it home. She slid down, her back against the door, tears raining free as the sobs grew louder.
Her phone rang upstairs. It’d be Scott wanting to make sure she’d got rid of him. Scraping herself from the floor, she gripped the banister and propelled herself to her bedroom. Jenny looked at the screen. It was an unknown number. With a trembling hand, she answered it and waited for the reply.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Stunned, Jenny didn’t move, unable to work out how he’d got her number when she’d never given it to him. Then she realised...that was what he’d been doing for so long in the bathroom. He’d been using her phone. “Don’t call me again,” she said.
“But I need to explain. I really have been following Martin. I saw him go past the café when Paul died and I went after him, but he disappeared.”
“You didn’t leave the café, I was with you.” She spat the words out.
She found his words incredulous. Her head hurt from a growing headache thanks to what he’d done, and she didn’t want to hear anymore.
“When you were next door in the charity shop. I got back before you.”
Jenny couldn’t believe a word he said. She shook her head and clicked to end the call without saying goodbye. The whole thing was too much, and now he’d gone too far. She’d never have anything to do with him again, that was certain. To think they might’ve been on the brink of a new relationship with love on the horizon. Her heart hurt at the thought of how wrong she’d been.
The phone call to Scott would have to wait. Jenny sat on the bed. Her head drooped from the depression that washed over her. So much for a new start. She’d found herself in more hot water, and there wasn’t anyone to blame but herself. If she went back to Scott he’d soon return to his old ways, maybe even worse. Jenny wrote out a text to let him know she was alone. It was better to send him that than speak to him. Any questions right now would send her off the deep end, and that was the last thing she wanted.
Jenny lay on the bed and pulled the covers around her. All desire to move had left. Her limbs felt like weights, and she stayed in the same position. Her phone vibrated. Scott had replied. She let him know she was all right so he wouldn’t worry. A thought ran through her mind. If only she didn’t live and work here, then she could get away. It was the last thought she had when slumber took her hostage.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The fog from Saturday night was nothing compared to her mind this Monday morning. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn she’d drunk too much and was reaping the rewards of her bad behaviour. Jenny gripped her head on either side. The memories of a miserable day on her own hounded her like the spectre of death.
She considered skipping a day and calling in sick, but wallowing at home wasn’t going to fix anything. Adam would struggle on without her, be given another low seniority postman to fill her place, but she didn’t want to do that to him. He’d been good to her so far. Shorter tenure serving staff could be given a raw deal. Jenny was wise enough to know when she was on to a good thing.
A hot shower and a strong coffee helped her feel more alive. She forced a brave smile leaving the house, grateful she didn’t have to tell anyone what she’d been through. The bruises on her neck were starting to discolour with a growing tinge of yellow. A plastering of makeup kept them hidden for now, and while it didn’t rub off she could forget about them for the next few hours.
Adam stood in the car park chatting with a friend while he vaped. He waved to her when she drove by in search of an empty space. She was in luck and didn’t have to use the overflow car park a few minutes away. Right then, Jenny needed to stay where she felt safe. She shuddered, a flashback from the other night appearing in her mind. Shaking it off, she backed up into the space and scrambled to get out of the car. The sooner she was with her colleagues and having a laugh, the better it would be.
The mailbags were ready, filled earlier by a member of staff who’d twisted his knee the day before. He made a big performance of limping and showing off his tube bandage, the other postmen riling him mercilessly. It brought a smile to Jenny’s lips, and for that she was grateful. She loaded a trolley and wheeled the work out to their van. No sooner had she arrived at work than she was heading back to the village. She shivered in her seat and brought her arms closer for warmth.
“You all right today? You don’t seem yourself.” Adam was getting to know her, even with the briefness of time they’d spent together.
“I’ll be fine. Got a headache, that’s all.” It wasn’t exactly a lie—the headache was true, but he didn’t need to know the rest.
They stopped alongside the curb in their first street and divided the work. It was getting easier to push on with the job now she had more of an idea of what she was doing and starting to catch him up. The first couple of hours went smooth enough, although it didn’t make her feel any better than she had done when she’d woken up. Most people were at work, and a lot of the mail went straight through the letterboxes.
A sense of failure yet again made her feel she was going backwards in her life. It seemed to be a recurring theme. Every time she thought she was getting some
where with a relationship, it fell apart before her eyes. Even trying to be independent hadn’t worked out as she got herself in more bother than if she hadn’t tried. Jenny didn’t know what the answer to her problems were, but she was sick of failing. She needed a change.
A good way through the walk, Jenny approached the charity shop. She was looking forward to seeing Carmie. Her quirkiness and stories entertained her, and she liked the way the woman knew her own mind. The high street was having a slow day; it seemed like everyone had somewhere better to be, but on today of all days that wasn’t such a bad thing. Jenny peered through the shop window. Carmie was in her usual place, but she wasn’t busy pricing up goods or putting things away. She was just standing there. Jenny tapped on the window and pulled a funny face, but her friend wasn’t amused.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she called out before she’d even made it through the door.
Carmie turned away and folded her arms around her torso, her hands gripping her jumper.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
She didn’t answer until Jenny was closer to the cash desk. “I got another one.” Tears filled her eyes, but she took a deep breath and seemed like she was trying to be brave.
“Another one...” Jenny stopped mid-sentence. For a moment she didn’t understand—that was until suddenly she did. “A doll.”
Carmie bent down and grabbed a familiar type of parcel from under the counter. Lifting it carefully, she placed it on the top. The doll was made of the usual black wool, wound tight around a frame. The difference this time was that the note pinned to its chest had another name on it. It didn’t spell out Paul or Emma. The name was written clearly, and Jenny felt faint on reading the word. The note said: Jenny.
She crumpled to the floor for the second time in less than forty-eight hours, aided by her heavy mailbag. The shock took her knees from under her, and what’d seemed like a bad night on Saturday had now been surpassed. The doll had her name on it. Her heart rampaged beneath her ribs, skipped beats and pounded out of control, her breathing ragged. The room swam in a fading light around her. A whooshing sound in her ears competed with a tremble that vibrated her whole body.
