Holy Island Trilogy 02 - Nowhere Man

by Sheila Quigley

  Overawed by their accomplishments over the years, Annya was smiling for the first time in months. Then the door opened, and an old woman in a red coat walked in, followed by someone she knew. Annya gasped.

  Shelly, who had also had a smile on her face, froze when she recognised Annya.

  Oh, God, she thought. Annya was one of the girls that she herself had recruited. She remembered the time and the place. She had lured Annya round one of the back streets in Newcastle with the promise of cheap Justin Bieber downloads. The van had already been waiting. She’d even helped hold her until the chloroform worked.

  She’ll hate me -and I don’t blame her.

  What to do?

  Just turn and walk away.

  Then what?

  Carry on the way she had been, until they caught her and did what they had done to Alicia?

  She knew, though, that she had to face up to it. She’d done what the Leader had ordered, not only out of fear, but to keep herself in the little yellow pills that she still had a craving for every time she thought of them.

  I’ve still got the gun in my bag. Perhaps I should use it now, end it all, over and done with, no more fear, no more shame.

  No more hiding!

  The option of ending it all was becoming sweeter by the moment.

  First, she felt as if she should throw herself at Annya’s feet and beg her forgiveness-although she knew what she herself would have done, if Alicia had begged her for forgiveness. Darling, sweet Alicia had had another side to her, that neither Evan nor Danny had known about. Suddenly, sanctuary didn’t look so good. Not with the constant reminder that was Annya, staring her in the face every morning.

  Lowering her eyes, she stared at the blue and green rug.

  Ella walked past her into the middle of the conservatory and started taking her clothes off. She rid herself of the red coat first, then the wig and face-mask, revealing a pretty, brown-haired young woman underneath it all. Both Annya and Shelly gasped in surprise as they stared at her.

  ‘Well done, Ella,’ Coral said.

  Ella grinned. ‘Shelly, meet Annya and Coral. Annya, meet Shelly.’

  ‘We’ve already met,’ Shelly mumbled.

  Ella looked quickly round at Annya, whose face was chalk white as she stared at Shelly.

  Guessing the truth, Coral said, ‘Oh-you both come from Newcastle way, don’t you.’ She sighed. ‘Guess I know what’s happened here, then.’

  Shelly nodded. ‘I’m sorry, truly, truly sorry… Please believe me.’

  Annya turned away and stared out of the window as Coral, getting up out of her seat, gestured with her head at Ella that the two of them should leave.

  When they had gone, Shelly moved closer to Annya, and said again, ‘I’m sorry, Annya, truly I am.’

  ‘Go away,’ Annya replied, still refusing to look at her.

  ‘But you don’t understand. The same was done to me by a very good friend.’

  ‘And that makes it all right for you to do it to me, does it? Just because you were addicted to the stupid drugs? Well, so was I. I spent God knows how many weeks in a forced hell trying to come off them. Have you any idea what it’s like?’

  ‘Yes.’

  'Is that it? "Yes"?’

  ‘No… Yes… Look, I know it doesn’t make it right, but I am sorry. Please tell me what I can do to make it right. I’ll do anything, anything at all.’

  Annya finally turned and faced her. ‘Nothing. There is nothing you can do.’ Her voice rising with every word, she went on, ‘Go away. I hate you. Hate you for what you did to me, for what you put me through. For what you put my grandfather through, and for what he’s still suffering.’

  ‘I… I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sorry isn’t good enough, nor will it ever be. You have ruined my life. How many others?’ she demanded.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Shelly hung her head. She couldn’t stay here. It was obvious that Annya would never forgive her for what she’d done. She thought of the rows she’d had with Alicia, unknown to Evan and Danny, about pretty much the same thing.

  And she thought of the gun in her bag.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  ‘Never saw that one coming, did we?’ Coral said, as she and Ella walked down the garden path. The path was edged with flowers, and lawned on both sides, with a small pond full of fat golden fish at the bottom. The fish belonged to Ella, who had names for them all. Each was called after one of the seven dwarves. Grumpy had recently died, and Coral had begun to think that Ella was never going to snap out of it-though secretly she suspected that Ella was using the death of her pet as an excuse to delve into a little self-pity. Not that anyone could blame her, really.

  Ella had been rescued over five years ago. Her story at the hands of the Families was horrendous. It had taken over a year for her to step outside the safe house, and the fact that she could not contact her two children, for their own safety, ate away at her on a daily basis. They were still being watched, as were the family members of everyone involved. Except for those, like herself, who had managed to fake their own death.

  A six foot high fence encircled the property, keeping them safe from prying eyes. Ella sat down on one of the green striped deckchairs beside the pond. Coral took the red striped one facing Ella, and lit up a cigarette.

  ‘Hmm. It’s not going to be easy with both of them in the same house, is it? Remember, Louise had a similar situation at the safe house in London.’

  ‘Yes,’ Coral nodded. ‘When one of the girls lost it, and used a knife on the other.’

  ‘We mustn’t ever forget what these girls have been through. At the end of the day, we’ve been there as well. It’s our job to ease them back, the best way we can. After all, it’s been going on for a hell of a long time.’

  Coral sighed. ‘I think we'd better put Shelly on suicide watch. She does have that gun with her. Big mistake. I should have taken it away last night. But I thought she needed it for comfort, and would lose trust if she thought we could more or less do what we wanted with her.’

  ‘Do you think she’s the type to kill herself?’

  ‘Is there truly a type?’

  Ella shrugged. ’Best get that gun off her, then, in case that argument turns nasty. Annya seems a nice enough kid, but I don’t think she’s a pushover, by any means. It took a lot of guts to escape the way she did.’

  Coral was about to reply when her phone rang. Looking at the caller ID, she said to Ella, ’It’s Louise.’

  Ella nodded. ’Good.’ She waited patiently until Coral put her phone back in her pocket.

  ‘Everything’s all right down there. She’s made contact with a rather bemused Mike Yorke.’

  Ella burst out laughing, and Coral joined her. A moment later, the sound of a single gunshot sent them running towards the conservatory.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Bored stiff from the long train journey - a fifty-five minute hold-up at York, plus a couple hell bent on kicking the shit out of each other who were put off at Peterborough, a further fifteen minute delay-and anxious to find Rita, Smiler finally arrived at Kings Cross station, his link to Mike no stronger than it had been in Northumberland. That added considerably to Smiler’s worries. He’d strongly believed the closer to London he got, the stronger the link would get. To Smiler it felt as if he was missing a limb or two.

  He and Tiny headed out of the station and crossed the road to MacDonald’s. He tied Tiny up outside, and a few minutes later came out of the shop with a king size burger each for him and the dog. When Tiny had wolfed his burger down, and Smiler was still on with his, they headed along the street in the direction that Smiler knew he would find Rita.

  Only Rita had gone very quiet, which was unusual. She was almost as quiet as Mike.

  Smiler reached the place where Rita usually hung about, but there was no sign of her. He asked a couple of young boys who were standing down by the river throwing stones, but they hadn’t seen her for a few days. In fact, no one had seen her.
r />   He strolled along the path wondering what to do, because he didn’t have the slightest idea where Rita lived. After about a hundred yards, he stopped for a moment and gazed at the river. Sitting down, he leaned back on his arms, the palms of his hands taking his weight.

  Where the hell are you? he wondered.

  ‘I’m here.’

  Smiler shot up and looked around. Strutting towards him, on the highest pair of heels he’d ever seen, wearing a huge grin and very little else, a black leather mini skirt barely covering the top of her legs, and a pink blouse showing even more smooth flesh, was Rita. She waved at him.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ Smiler asked, when she reached him.

  Knowing that he did not mean where had she physically been, Rita answered, ‘Sorry, love. Sometimes it happens for no reason. As long as you can feel me, I’m all right.’

  ‘So Mike’s----?’

  ‘For the moment.’

  As smooth and graceful as any young woman who had been to a top finishing school, Rita sat down on the grass. Smiling, she said, ‘How’s Aunt May?’

  ‘You know her?’ Smiler asked, his jaw hanging open in amazement.

  ‘Oh yes. I also knew your mother.’

  Smiler nearly choked in shock. ‘How? How?’ he gasped.

  Rita rose as quickly and as gracefully as she’d sat down. Holding out her hand to Smiler, she said, ‘Come on. We have quite a lot to talk about.’

  Smiler looked at Rita’s hand for a moment, at her long slim fingers, then reached up with his own. Quickly she pulled him to his feet.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Ella and Coral burst into the conservatory to see Shelly sitting on the floor, her head in her hands, and Annya holding the gun. For a moment they all froze.

  Coral was the first to regain her wits. ‘Put the gun down, Annya. Please,’ she said calmly, as she took a step forward. ‘While we check on Shelly.’

  Obviously in shock, Annya stared at her. Coral held out her hand. ‘Pass the gun over, Annya, please, and we’ll sort it out. Shelly needs our help.’

  Annya was shaking as she said, ’You think...you think I’ve shot her, don’t you?’ She looked accusingly at them.

  ‘Tell me what happened.’

  ‘She…she...’ Annya started to cry and put her free hand over her face, her gun hand hanging slack with the gun pointing towards the floor. Using the opportunity, Coral reached Annya, preparing to wrestle her for the gun, but Annya lifted it up and handed it over. Fearing what she might find, Ella hurried to Shelly.

  ‘She was going to shoot herself,’ Annya said.

  Coral breathed deeply. Taking the gun from Annya, she put her arms around the trembling girl's shoulders. Seeing no signs of any injury, Ella did the same to Shelly, who sobbed her heart out on Ella’s shoulder.

  ‘I’m sorry…I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s all right, Shelly. You’ve been through so much, I suppose something was going to give.’ She lifted Shelly’s chin and looked into her eyes. The misery lodged there made her want to cry. Instead, she said, ’It’s OK, Shelly, you’re safe now. Come on, I’ll take you to your room and give you something to settle you down.’

  Carefully, she helped Shelly off the floor. Leaning heavily on her, Shelly, in a daze, did what Ella said. A few minutes later Ella had Shelly undressed and in bed.

  Downstairs, Coral puffed out her cheeks and said, ’It seems you’ve been very brave, Annya.’

  Annya licked her dry lips and said, ‘She just pulled the gun out of her bag. I thought she was going to shoot me’- she shivered- ‘but she wasn’t, she was going to kill herself.’ She started to cry again.

  ‘Come on, sit down,' Coral urged her.

  Annya sat. Resting her elbows on her knees, dropping her head into her hands, staring at the floor, she said, 'We were arguing. I blamed her for what happened to me… I’m sorry, I never expected her to do what she did.’

  ‘It’s not your fault, Annya. No one can blame you for being angry.’

  ‘I know, but… She’s been through so much herself.’

  ‘A lot of us have.’

  Annya looked at Coral. ‘You too?’

  ‘Yes. I’m afraid all of us here have our own tales to tell about what we suffered at the hands of those’- she paused for a moment, reflecting briefly on her own story - ‘can’t even bring myself to call them human beings.’

  ‘And you all escaped?’

  ‘With a little help. You don’t think that bathroom window opened itself, do you?’

  ‘You?’

  ‘No, it was Ella, She has a part time job in there, sort of our woman on the inside. Of course, she couldn’t make it too obvious, in case she herself was caught. No written evidence, nor any attempt to speak to you-she hoped by opening it as far as she could you might take the hint.’

  ‘She’s so brave, working amongst them.’

  ‘It’s our job, Annya, the way we fight back by rescuing as many as we can. Obviously we have to think of our own safety-if one of us gets caught, they’ll torture us until they find out who is behind us. So we can basically only leave a hint or two, hoping who ever we try to rescue picks up on it. Hence, in your case, the wide-open window. Thank God it worked.’

  ‘Who is behind all of this?’ For a moment, Annya was worried. Were these the same sort of people as the Families? Were they rescuing people only to sell them on?

  Ella arrived, carrying a tray with three cups of tea. Smiling, she put it down on the table.

  Coral turned to her and said, ‘Annya is wanting the whole story, Ella.’

  Handing Annya a cup of tea, Ella said, ‘I can only ask you to be patient for a few more hours, Annya. We will explain everything to you and Shelly, although she already has an idea. Just please trust us. You are safe here.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Looking very dishevelled, in desperate need of a shave, Danny sat on a bench underneath a bright blue and yellow striped umbrella outside the local pub, nursing his fifth pint of beer in the last hour. He had come out for shopping, but judging by the look he got from the owner of the corner shop as he’d stepped through the door, he was far from welcome.

  Deciding not to bother -it isn’t worth the hassle, he’d thought at the time, the whole flaming world thinks I’m guilty-he’d headed for the local supermarket, where he’d prayed he might not be recognised. Then he’d passed the pub just as the doors were opening, and all thoughts of food flew right out of his mind.

  But the hair of the dog idea proved to be a lie. He felt as lousy as he had when he’d woken up, after downing a full bottle of vodka last night. Might as well drink the lot, he’d thought at the time, no fucker else to share it with.

  That had been over thirteen hours ago. He’d failed to make it to the bedroom, and had collapsed on the floor-he was now out and about in the clothes he’d fallen asleep in.

  Staring into the dregs of his pint, he thought, Might as well get another. Nowt else to do.

  Unsteadily, he got up from the bench and weaved his way into the dimly lit bar.

  ‘Pint,’ he slurred, digging his change out of his pocket.

  ‘Not think you’ve had enough, lad?’ asked the barman, a large man with a liking for green tartan shirts and long whiskery sideboards.

  ‘No… What’s yer problem, like, mate? My money not good enough for yer?’

  ‘We don’t want any trouble in here.’

  ‘Not givin’ yer any, am I? Just want me pint.’

  ‘OK, OK. Just saying.’ Keeping a steady eye on Danny, the barman poured the pint and put it on the bar, counted out the price from the change Danny had slapped down, and pushed the rest towards him.

  Danny pocketed the change, looked at the barman and said, ‘It’s not fair, is it?’

  Praying for the bar to fill up so he wasn’t stuck listening to this guy's problems, the barman replied, ‘There ain't nothing fair in this life, mate, nothing at all.’ He moved along to the end of the bar and began dusting the fit
tings.

  Danny mulled this over with a frown. ‘So you’re saying my life’s as good as yours, eh?’

  The barman ignored him.

  ‘You ain't got any idea. You don’t know what’s fucking coming to you, mate, and that’s a fact.’

  ‘Is that a threat?’ The barman put his duster down and moved towards Danny.

  ‘Not off me, no way.’

  ‘Then who?’

  ‘Them,’ Danny leaned over the bar and whispered. ‘That’s who. They’re all over the place.’

  Not another nutter, the barman thought, shaking his head and turning to move back along the bar.

  Danny grabbed his sleeve. ‘Them,’ he said, this time in a loud stage whisper.

  ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you.’ The barman looked pointedly at Danny’s hand on his arm.

  Letting go, Danny sighed. He picked up his pint and, taking a large drink, he ran his tongue round his lips and went on, ’Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Better lock this place up and go away If I were you like, 'cause it’s coming.’

  ‘Why?’ The barman could have kicked himself. He knew better than to encourage doomsday idiots like this. In his profession he’d heard them all.

  ‘Just 'cause it is, and just 'cause they can.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’

  ‘It’s a waste of time talking to people like you, isn’t it? Never listen or see just what’s under yer fucking nose. Give me a bottle of vodka.’ Danny put a twenty-pound note on the bar.

  ‘Taking it with you?’ the barman asked hopefully.

  ‘Aye,’ Danny muttered, downing the rest of his pint.

  Bottle of vodka tucked under his arm, Danny left the pub, his relationship with the barman intact, but only just. He decided to sit back down on the bench and have a drink of the vodka. Putting the bottle to his mouth, he slurped a good quarter of the bottle, barely stopping for air.

  He was still there a good hour later, much to the barman’s disappointment. He’d watched half a dozen people sit down and, after a few minutes of Danny’s blurred ranting about doomsday, get up and leave.