by Jacqui Rose
At the end of one of the corridors, Alfie stopped. He could hear the sound of the small child’s crying getting louder, echoing around the building and he panicked. Alfie turned around, running as fast as he could to try to work out where the child was.
Drenched with sweat, Alfie felt like he was in a maze, the echoes of the different sounds making it almost impossible to work out where he needed to head to. A cry below him made Alfie run to the edge of the open landing and, horrified, he saw a little boy being dragged roughly along by a tall man, who looked to be in his forties.
The noise of Alfie’s feet on the wooden boarding made the man look up, and on seeing Alfie, he picked up the boy and ran.
Charging down the stairs, feeling the tightness in his chest, Alfie yelled, ‘Oi! Oi! Wait! Wait!’
Suddenly a shot was fired, hitting the wall, and Alfie threw himself on the ground, ducking down as the bullets ricocheted off the discarded steel drums. He rolled out of the way and then crawled along on his hands and knees, pulling himself back up at the door.
Dashing along, Alfie charged down the hallway. Although he wasn’t armed, he was determined he wasn’t going to lose them, but a clatter from nearby made him halt. Breathing hard, he pressed his body into the shadows again, hearing footsteps getting nearer.
He could feel his heart thumping as he waited to see if whoever it was, was going to pass by. But suddenly the footsteps stopped, and he could hear nothing but the sound of the hailstones outside.
As he stood, pinning himself to the wall, Alfie could sense that whoever it was seemed to know he was there too. As he tried to hold his breath, not wanting to make a sound, he readied himself, then silently counted down before leaping out from the shadows.
The tall grey-haired man stood holding a little boy, no older than six or seven, but the man began to back away as Alfie ordered, ‘Put him down … I said, put him down.’
‘What are you going to do about it, if I don’t?’
Alfie’s eyes darted to the side of him and he quickly picked up a large plank of wood. ‘Whatever it takes.’
The man, keeping his eyes on Alfie, slowly placed the child down. Then holding his teddy bear, the boy ran to Alfie, who held his hand and started to walk away but as Alfie turned to make his escape to the exit, he spun around, and suddenly froze. In the distance, at the bottom of the stairs, he could see Barry Eton.
His breathing becoming shallow as he continued to stare, feeling like the whole warehouse was beginning to spin, feeling the terror he had as a kid, but as he tried to pull himself together, a blunt object smashed down on the back of his head and a second later, Alfie Jennings blacked out.
‘Alfie! Alfie! Are you okay?’
Alfie slowly opened his eyes to look into Franny’s worried face. He tried to sit up, but a pain shot through his head. He touched it, and felt a mess of sticky blood in his hair, but suddenly a thought crossed his mind. He croaked his words. ‘Where is he?’
‘Where’s who?’
Cringing at the pain, Alfie, still holding the back of his head to stem the blood, managed to sit up. ‘There was a boy here, a little boy. Where is he?’
In the dim light, Franny looked around. The place was deserted. She’d been lucky to find Alfie, though, after arriving in the cab. It had taken her over half an hour to do so. ‘There’s no one here, Alf.’
‘I’m telling you, Franny, he was here with some guy … and Barry.’
‘What?’ Shocked, Franny stared at Alfie. ‘Are you sure? Are you sure it was him?’
‘Absolutely, I followed them from the hospital.’
Angrily, Franny shook her head. ‘Charlie told me that he hadn’t had any contact with Barry.’
Trying to stand up but deciding to leave it for a moment, Alfie said, ‘I’m not surprised Charlie lied to you, but I am surprised he still has anything to do with his father. He hated that man, not only that but he was terrified of him as well. I just don’t get it.’
‘You said yourself though that Charlie’s a different person now … Listen, are you okay? I mean after seeing Barry.’
Alfie’s voice was full of concern. ‘I didn’t really see him properly but yeah, I’m fine.’
‘Did he see you though?’
‘I don’t think so, he was too far away.’
‘Look, are you sure you’re okay?’
Alfie, seeming angry with himself, said, ‘It’s not me you should be worrying about. It’s the little boy. I had him, Franny. I was holding his hand but then I froze. I saw Barry in the distance, and I just froze. I fucked up and now the boy’s in trouble.’
‘How do you know?’
Irritated and frustrated, Alfie snapped. ‘Come off it, Fran, what the fuck else will he be? If Barry’s got anything to do with him, then it’s bad news. Look, do me a favour and have another look around will you? Make sure he still isn’t here?’
‘Alf, seriously, there’s no one around. I already checked when I was looking for you. I think the best thing we can do is to get you back home. Clean up that wound – it looks nasty.’
‘Forget about me. Please, Franny, just go. I saw the look in that boy’s eyes and no doubt about it, the kid’s in trouble.’
Having left Alfie in the car, Franny, with Mia heavy on her mind and with the constant feeling of sickness in her stomach, made her way into another of the warehouses. Like the other ones, it was empty and dark, crumbling and deserted and she walked along carefully, not wanting to nick herself on any of the sharp edges of the broken bottles, nails or rusting metal strewn around.
Certain there was no one about, Franny, guided by her phone torch and the moonlight, made her way confidently through the back corridor of the warehouse; the double doors creaking and swinging open. She peeked into all the rooms where weeds and grass grew in the corners and the sleet fell through from the broken ceiling. They were all empty and looked like no one had been in them for years.
Thinking she’d head back to the car in the next few minutes, Franny frowned as she thought she heard a noise. She swivelled around quickly but there was nobody there. She stared into the darkness, feeling a chill coming over her.
‘Franny! Franny!’
Her chest became tight and she backed away, banging into a discarded sheet of metal, which was leaning on the wall. It tumbled to the floor, clattering and echoing around the large, derelict warehouse.
Alarmed, Franny squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her head, trying to stop herself trembling, trying to stop herself thinking of Bree … She had to pull herself together. She had to think of what Alfie had said. It was just the wind. It was just the wind … Yes, that was all it was and allowing her imagination to mess with her head wasn’t doing anyone any good.
Exhaling, she opened her eyes and began to back away, back to the safety of the car, back to Alfie. But her phone battery suddenly died, and the light cut out, leaving her standing in nothing but darkness.
‘Franny.’
Franny spun around again, taking short, shallow breaths as she gasped for air. ‘Bree?’
She grabbed for the wall, moving along, terrified as her eyes darted about and pricked with tears. The next moment she started to run; down the corridor and through a large door before racing around the corner, skidding and sliding on the wet concrete but as she got into the next room, Franny suddenly realised she’d gone the wrong way.
Panicking, she looked for another way out and at the end of the room she saw a small metal door, which she headed for, running through it as she tried to stop herself from screaming.
As she stumbled into the room, which was brighter and easier to see in than the other one due to the long wide windows void of panes of glass, she stopped and stared. There was something over in the far corner.
She cautiously walked towards it, her heart thumping as she felt her feet brush through the wet leaves that had been blown inside. With eyes having adjusted to the dark, Franny could see clearly … There was a small, purpose-built platform and on it were
toys, children’s toys. A ball. A train. A small fire engine and a couple of pieces of Lego. She glanced down at the floor and saw a discarded pair of children’s trousers. Seeing something else, looking like a dark stain, she bent down and touched it gently. It was blood. Spots of blood. ‘Jesus.’
‘Fran! You okay?’
Franny jumped, screaming and falling forward in fright. A rush of terror swept over her. Breathlessly, she rubbed her chest, her eyes wide with fear. ‘Jesus, Alf, do you have to sneak up on me like that? Christ almighty. I thought you were …’
Alfie touched his head, which was still sore but at least the bleeding had stopped. ‘You thought I was, who?’
Fractious, Franny shrugged. ‘No one. You just gave me a fright, that’s all.’
‘Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to, it’s just that you’ve been ages and I was getting worried … What’s that?’
Franny stood up, a look of concern over her face. ‘I found them. They’re kids’ toys, and …’ She stopped, clearly unable to form the words to describe the little boy’s trousers out loud.
Alfie’s face paled as he looked down at the trousers. He felt shocked and he was forced to try to steady himself against the wall, his words difficult to find. ‘You think they belonged to the kid? You think …’ He stopped, unable to say what he was thinking.
Glancing around, Franny answered gently, ‘Usually I’d say we were jumping to conclusions, but look at that …’
‘What is it?’
Franny walked towards the end of the room and shivered. ‘It looks like some camera equipment, a tripod.’
‘You think …’ Again, Alfie couldn’t find the words.
‘That they’d brought the boy here to film him? And you scared them off? Yeah, I do. It’s the perfect place. No one comes here and it’s a long way from anyone. No one’s going to hear you scream.’
Swallowing hard, Alfie nodded, closing his eyes as he saw the image of the little boy’s haunted face.
‘Alf, listen, I know this is hard for you. Let’s get out of here.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s not hard for me, not really. For me it’s over, but for that little boy, whoever he is, it’s probably only just begun. We have to find him, Franny. Him and Mia.’
As Franny took Alfie’s hand partly to comfort him and partly to comfort herself, she nodded in agreement. ‘Yeah, and the first person we need to go back and talk to is Charlie Eton.’
31
Back at the car park outside Queen’s Hospital, Franny stared at Alfie. Her thoughts were a muddle and it felt like she was spiralling. The pain in her chest was constant and she couldn’t shake the sense of nausea away. Even to concentrate on everyday things seemed harder with each passing moment. All she could think of was Mia and it was all she could do to stop Alfie finding out but that didn’t stop her wishing she could tell Alfie everything. To share it with him. To relieve her burden, but she knew that was impossible.
Panicked she shook her head. ‘No way, you ain’t going in to see him. You hear me, Alf? You’ve already made a mess of things. So, no, you ain’t going in.’
Angrily, Alfie raised his voice, irritated and on edge. ‘Don’t tell me what I’m going to do. There’s a kid out there who needs my help.’
It was like a firework had gone off in her head as she screamed at Alfie, unable to keep her emotions under control. ‘There is, but there’s also Mia to think of! Have you forgotten about her! Have you? Well have you?’
‘Calm down, Fran, for fuck’s sake!’
‘No I won’t calm fucking down, not until you listen! I’m not going to let you storm in there and ruin everything.’
Bemused as Franny burst into tears, Alfie snapped, ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
Trying to get her temper back under control, Franny took a deep breath and shook her head. Even though the stakes somehow seemed even higher now, she still had to keep her eye on the ultimate goal. Find Mia and then get the hell out. All along she knew that if Alfie ever found out about Mia and Bree, he would kill her, but more so now than ever.
He was angry and she’d known him long enough to realise that when he felt something so deeply, so passionately as he did right now, if he realised on top of everything else that his daughter, Mia, was out there missing, there’d be no talking, simply a bullet in her head; and then Mia would be certainly lost forever, if she wasn’t already.
Whatever happened, whatever Franny had to do, she needed to keep Alfie away from Charlie as well as Barry. ‘What I’m talking about is seeing you would be like a red flag to a bull. You should’ve heard him before – there’s no way Charlie will speak to you. Jesus Christ, he’s lost his leg, Alf. He’s never going to walk properly again, and that’s because of you. He’s pissed, and you know something, Alf? I don’t blame him.’
Furiously, Alfie banged his chest. ‘He ruined our business. Burnt the fucking place down. So he needed payback … Don’t look like that, Fran, I know he did it, cos who else would it have been?’
Uneasily, Franny shrugged, wanting to change the subject. ‘Who knows? Who knows if he did and you didn’t even wait to find out if it was him. I told you to back off and wait but you couldn’t do that, could you? Anyway, the point is, he wants to kill you, so he ain’t exactly going to start talking if he sees you.’
‘But, Fran, it’s not like he even told you the truth, is it? He blatantly lied about Barry, so what’s going to stop him lying this time around?’
‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t.’
‘No, Fran, I’ll make sure he doesn’t, and if I don’t get the truth out of him, well he can kiss goodbye to life as he knows it.’
Scrabbling around for excuses for why Alfie shouldn’t go up and see Charlie, Franny quickly said, ‘But if we both go, and Barry does come back here, then we might miss him; or if I stayed here and you went to see Charlie, that wouldn’t work either. I don’t know what Barry looks like. At least if you stayed in the car you could keep an eye out, and if he did turn up, I dunno, take down the car registration or something.’
‘But what are the chances of him reappearing?’
Franny spoke matter-of-factly. ‘Alf, any chance is better than nothing.’
Thinking about it, Alfie nodded his head. What Franny was saying made sense. And in truth, him wanting to go up and see Charlie had been more about his paranoia than Franny not being able to handle him.
For some reason he’d convinced himself there was a motive behind Franny not being keen on him going to see Charlie. It was ridiculous, because it was obvious that the only thing that mattered to Franny was trying to find her friend’s baby and the only thing that should matter to him, was to somehow find out the whereabouts of the boy. Anything else shouldn’t even come into it.
‘Yeah, okay and I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s stupid for us to both go up there. I’m just a bit of a mess at the moment, head’s all over the place. I’m not thinking straight. Thank God for you, hey? Left down to me, I think I’d probably fuck this all up more than I have done already.’
Franny gave a tight smile. ‘Yeah well, it’s tough for you – I know that. So, whatever I can do to help, then it’s all good.’
‘Yeah, all good. You and me, we make a great team.’
Alfie leant over to kiss Franny. He’d missed being close to her. These last few months had been crazy, and he kicked himself for not confiding in her from the start. She was what they talked about when they said: behind every successful man is a strong woman. She certainly was his strength. His everything. And the fact that he’d jeopardised all that for Bree, for anybody, was almost unthinkable.
Drawing away from her, he smiled sadly and asking a question he knew she wouldn’t really have the answer to, but he needed to ask anyway, Alfie said, ‘Do you think that we’ll find them?’
Franny stared into Alfie’s face, her voice a whisper. ‘Yes, I do, and you know why? Because we won’t stop looking for them until they’re safely back.’
Inside Queen’s Hospital, Franny walked along the corridor to one of the lifts that took her up to the critical care unit.
The place seemed deserted apart from a few of the night staff and porters and for some reason Franny felt the whole place had an unsettling calm in the air.
At the door of the unit, one of the nursing staff, a tall young woman, stopped Franny.
‘I’m sorry, visiting hours are over.’
‘Can’t you make an exception? I really need to speak to Charlie Eton.’
‘I’m sorry, we don’t allow visitors now unless it’s an emergency and you’re a close family member.’
‘That’s exactly what I am … I’m his cousin, so can you let me in?’
The nurse shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, I can give a message if you like.’
Firmly, Franny said, ‘No, this is something I need to tell him myself. You see there’s been a death in the family, and as you can imagine I need to tell him personally rather than just on the phone or you giving him a message for me. I don’t want to wait until morning; it’s difficult enough for us already.’
Concern and sympathy suddenly showed on the young nurse’s face. ‘Oh yes, of course, I’m so sorry to hear that.’ She stopped and glanced up at the clock on the wall. ‘Look, I’m sure it’ll be fine to go and speak to him, just take as long as you need. If I can get you something to drink, let me know.’
Franny smiled but it was cold, lacking any kind of warmth. ‘No, it’s fine but thank you for asking.’
‘Not at all. Would you like me to show you where Mr Eton is?’
‘Oh no, I know exactly where he is.’
In the darkness, Franny walked quietly into the hospital room where Charlie lay, still with tubes and machines surrounding him. He was asleep but the sound of Franny pulling back the trigger on her gun made Charlie’s eyes open. She jammed the nozzle into his mouth, clattering and smashing past his teeth.
‘I told you I’d come back if you lied to me, and what do you know, here I am.’
