Pressure: a dark and disturbing psychological thriller

by Betsy Reavley

  But a few weeks later it all came out.

  I came back from sixth form to what I thought was an empty house. Dad had a gig playing with a band on an album and Josh was at school. I called out for Mum, expecting her to be there, but got no answer so went into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich.

  It was autumn and there was a hell of a wind blowing. I remember it like it was yesterday.

  When I finished my sandwich I picked up my bag, which was heavy with books, and took it up to my bedroom, passing the bathroom on my way. I could hear the branches thrashing on the kitchen window and noticed the sound of the water running. I guessed Mum was in there having a bath. She spent a lot of time in the bathroom.

  After putting my bag in my room I went and knocked on the door, just to say hello. There was no answer. I tried again, wondering if the sound of the water had drowned me out but there was still no answer. I started banging loudly on the door and shouting, worried that she might have fallen asleep.

  It was only when water started to seep from underneath the door that I knew something was wrong.

  Using all my might I ran at the door with my shoulder and burst through into the bathroom.

  Lying there, in a bath full of bloody water, was my mother. Her limp arm hung out from one side of the tub and her glazed eyes were staring up at the ceiling. She had large gashes down both her forearms. I rushed to her and tried to pull her out of the bath. I wanted to save her, but it was too late. Instead, I sat on the wet floor holding her hand and cried my heart out. The water continued running.

  Dad came home and found us like that. I will never forget his face. At her funeral I made a promise to God that I would avenge her. I vowed that I would find Frank Holden and make him suffer. I knew the quickest way to get to him would be to get into acting. I’d always been quite good at it; I suppose I got that from Mum.

  Dad was a bit surprised when I announced that I wanted to take it up and that I didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore, but he was too broken by her death to try and change my mind.

  I did lots of private tuition and found myself an agent. It was easy, really. Soon I had jobs starring in ads and before long I managed to secure a few auditions and get parts acting in serials. It wasn’t long before I got to hear about Frank’s new film and persuaded my agent to try and get me an audition. She said she thought it was highly unlikely but promised to give it a go. I don’t know which one of us was more shocked when she received the call saying that Frank wanted me to come in and try out for a part.

  The first time I met him I was shaking; not from nerves but from anger. I really had to control myself not to punch him in the face. It wasn’t easy but I managed. I used some of the acting techniques I’d learnt to get through the audition without giving the game away. He had a big ego and was easy to charm. Once I got over my feelings of anger, I acted my arse off so that I stood a chance of getting the part. I didn’t care about the film or the role but I needed the part so that I would have an opportunity to spend more time with him. My plan required me to play the long game and I did just that.

  Upon meeting him I wondered if I really had it in me to see the whole thing through, but as soon as I saw the way he looked at Dominique, my co-star, I knew that I could do it and was in no doubt that this man deserved everything that was coming his way. It had taken me twelve years to get to this point and there was no turning back.

  My mother had killed herself because of this man and it was his turn to suffer. I had it all planned out, down to the last detail. I would hit him where it hurt him most, his reputation, but what I hadn’t counted on was the submarine sinking.

  17

  The Pica Explorer

  Day three. Hour 08:15.

  ‘She’s fucking dead.’ I can’t remember another time I’ve heard Susie swear and it sounds strange. She is too pure for that kind of language.

  Sam looks down at his shaking hands in horror.

  ‘I didn’t mean to. I just wanted her to stop.’ His voice is breaking and I can hear his hurt.

  Susie hangs her head and I watch as her shoulders move up and down while she cries. ‘What is happening to us? I can’t be near any of you,’ she sobs.

  I manage to sit up and take some deep breaths, backing away from Dominique’s body as the pool of blood from her head starts to move closer to me.

  ‘Three.’ My voice is hoarse. ‘Three people are dead.’

  ‘We have to go and tell the others.’ Susie looks up, her eyes brimming with tears.

  ‘No. No, we can’t.’ Sam’s words are full of panic. ‘They’ll think it’s me. They’ll think I did it.’

  ‘You did do it! You’re a killer,’ Susie shrieks, pointing at the lifeless body lying on the metal floor.

  ‘No, it was an accident. I haven’t killed anyone. Not on purpose. They’ll think I did the others.’ Sitting quite still I watch Sam closely. Was it really an accident? He doesn’t strike me as a cold-blooded killer but, then again, none of the people on board fit that description.

  I try to think straight for just one minute but my mind is a fog and I can’t settle on a single train of thought. My brain continues to thud.

  ‘I’m not staying here.’ Susie gets to her feet. ‘We need to tell the others.’

  Sam grabs her long skirt and prevents her from moving.

  ‘I’m begging you.’ His knuckles are white and his fists cling to the fabric.

  ‘I don’t have a choice.’ Susie puts her small pale hands over his and encourages him to release her. ‘I will tell them it was a mistake.’ She puts her hand on his head and ruffles his hair before leaving us in the corridor, her brown leather boots echoing around us as she walks away.

  ‘Help me hide her.’ Sam turns to me, his eyes filled with desperation.

  ‘No, Sam. You have to face it. We can’t hide her. She’s not a mistake you can just sweep under the carpet.’ I feel for him as I watch his face crumble. If he is the killer, he is doing a good job of faking remorse.

  ‘It wasn’t meant to be like this. She wasn’t meant to die. Why did she have to be so stupid? If she’d opened the hatch it would have killed us all. What was she thinking? I was just trying to protect everyone.’ He stands up and slams his hands against the cold wall in anger. ‘How can it all have gone so wrong?’

  ‘She wasn’t thinking straight. She was scared and panicking. She would never have been able to open the hatch anyway. The pressure from the water would have made it impossible.’ I look over at the dead girl, feeling real pity for her, as Sam makes a fist and hits the metal shell of the submarine.

  ‘Stop it.’ I put my hands up over my ears and close my eyes tightly shut. The noise he is making is piercing my brain like a bullet. ‘Stop it!’ I shout again.

  When I can no longer feel the vibrations running through my body, I open my eyes to find myself alone with the body. Sam has disappeared. Perhaps he’s gone after Susie.

  On my hands and knees I crawl over to Dominique. Her large eyes are open and staring. I gently raise my hand towards her face and close her eyelids. She has seen enough already.

  Then, when I have enough strength to stand, I rearrange her body so that she is lying straight, with her legs closed and her arms by her sides. It is the only thing I can do for her now. She looks so young all of a sudden.

  ‘Goodnight, pretty girl.’ I wipe the hair from her forehead before reaching for the spanner and tucking it into the back of my trousers. Whether or not Sam intended to hurt her, I don’t know; but the fact remains that there is a killer on board and any one of us could be next.

  I feel spooked being alone with her body and decide to go find the others. I don’t know where Sam has gone and I don’t want to chase after him. Power in numbers, I think to myself as I make my way through the semi-darkness making sure I keep one hand firmly on the spanner by my back.

  The whole body of the sub seems to groan and I drop to the floor, terrified of it caving in above my head. The sound goes on for a few seconds
before dissolving again and my world returns to a half reality.

  Standing up again I crouch slightly as I make my way along the maze of corridors, still frightened by the noise I heard.

  The bodies are now not the most important thing on my mind – our dire situation comes right to the forefront and I start to feel as if I am drowning in my own thoughts.

  ‘Somehow, we need to get the submarine to the surface. Somehow, we have to survive.’ I repeat the words to myself over and over again like a mantra, willing it to happen. ‘If I believe it, it will be so.’

  My throat feels painfully dry and I stop talking to myself, determined to try and save my energy for a more worthwhile purpose.

  When I enter the living area I find the others with Susie, who is completely hysterical.

  Luke, who is trying to help calm her down, is holding her in a bear-like grip, trying to stop her from hurting herself. She wails and thrashes about in his arms like a rag doll for some time before she no longer has the strength to fight and flops into submission. He has a vacant look on his face.

  ‘Where is Sam? Is it true you saw him kill Dominique?’ Luke asks, laying a weak Susie down on one of the benches by the dining table.

  ‘I don’t know. He ran off.’ It feels as if there are splinters of glass stuck in my gullet.

  ‘Right, from now on we all stay together. No one goes off alone. I’m the fucking director on board this shit-show and I pay your wages,’ Frank barks trying to convince himself, and all of us, that he is still in charge.

  ‘Pay our wages?’ Luke chuckles. ‘That’s funny.’

  ‘Why?’ Frank’s eyes are burning with rage.

  ‘Because none of us are getting out of here alive so your money doesn’t mean shit.’ The room falls silent. I bet no one has ever spoken to Frank like that before.

  ‘Carry on like that, sunshine, and you definitely won’t be getting out of here.’ Frank steps up to Luke and shoves his face up close to Luke’s.

  ‘Sit the fuck down, old man.’ Luke pushes Frank, who is taken by surprise and loses his balance, falling backwards into a chair.

  ‘Stop it,’ Susie moans.

  ‘She’s right,’ Fiona agrees. ‘This isn’t helping. We will get out of here. There is every chance we will be rescued.’

  ‘You keep telling yourself that,’ Luke sneers.

  ‘What do you suggest? Please tell us.’ Frank folds his arms across his chest and glares at Luke, who is flushed with rage. Then he turns to Fiona.

  We are all looking at her, waiting for an answer, and Fiona looks at each of us in turn.

  ‘I think Frank is right. We must all stay in the same room. We’ll be much safer if we do.’

  ‘What if I need the toilet?’ Anya asks.

  ‘Then we go together in pairs.’

  ‘Be just my luck I end up going for a shit with a murderer for company. I don’t want to die on the crapper.’ Luke is still boiling with anger.

  ‘That isn’t funny.’ I sit down next to Susie and start to stroke her back in a soothing motion.

  ‘None of this is funny,’ Fiona says, putting her face in her hands and letting out a loud sigh.

  ‘You look tired,’ Anya adds.

  ‘I am tired. We are all tired,’ Fiona snaps back.

  ‘Let’s try and eat something. We need to think clearly and we need energy to do so.’

  ‘I must admit I’m hungry,’ Luke says, beginning to calm down.

  ‘Fine. Go and get some food then. You two.’ Frank points at Anya and Luke, still trying to direct.

  ‘I’m not eating anything any of you give me.’ Luke looks around us.

  Anya sighs and then sets off towards the food storage room. No one mentions the body that is lying in the freezer in that room.

  ‘Where is that little scrote Sam?’ Frank demands.

  ‘He ran off,’ I say. ‘He’s frightened.

  ‘Or guilty,’ Susie mumbles.

  ‘What are we going to do about Dominique?’ Someone has to bring it up.

  ‘Freezer?’ Frank suggests coldly.

  ‘Is there room?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes. There will be,’ Fiona answers gravely.

  ‘Wait for her to get back with supplies then you can sort it out,’ Frank says, picking his teeth with a fat finger and pointing at us all.

  ‘I am not your employee.’ Fiona stands up proudly, straightening her top. ‘I don’t take orders from you.’

  ‘That’s fine, doll, but you’d better not complain when the kid starts stinking the place out.’

  18

  Child

  When Mummy met Nick everything settled down for a while. He seemed to make her happy. I’d never seen her happy, or with a man, so it took some time for me to accept that it had happened.

  The beatings stopped because her attention was focused elsewhere. I know it sounds strange but I actually felt even less loved than before. When Nick entered her life she stopped noticing me. She didn’t have time to get cross. It was like I didn’t exist at all and although I was pleased that she stopped hurting me, I missed her attention.

  Nick was a short man, with broad shoulders and a bald head. He reminded me a bit of a garden gnome. Mummy was as tall as him. She told me he was a builder.

  They would go out in the evenings and leave me alone in the house. I’d get my own dinner, usually some beans and toast or a jam sandwich, if the jar wasn’t empty, then sit on the floor in the living room and watch TV for a while before going up to bed for eight o’clock.

  When they came home I’d hear them coming up the stairs and hide under my duvet, holding my breath and hoping they wouldn’t come in and find me awake but they never checked. I could have been dead and no one would have known.

  Mummy always used to come into my room to make sure I was asleep. So much had changed.

  Lying in my bed, listening to the sound of my own breathing, I started to hear another noise, coming from somewhere else in the house. A grunting, panting, moaning that was getting louder and louder. I was frightened and didn’t know what was happening.

  Rolling the covers down I peered into the darkness hoping to make sense of the sound. Then, moments later there was a banging on the far wall of my room. It was coming from the other side. It was coming from Mummy’s bedroom.

  Getting out of bed, my naked feet found the cold floorboards and I crept carefully towards the wall and put my ear against it.

  The moaning was getting louder and I could hear both Mummy and Nick making strange noises. At first I thought they were fighting but it didn’t sound like she was in pain. Then finally Nick let out a long, low, groan and the banging stopped. I waited, for a moment, frozen to the spot, wondering what was happening. Then I heard laughter and rushed back to my bed, frightened and confused. I didn’t understand how two people who sounded like they were in pain could then begin laughing.

  Listening to Mummy laugh felt odd. She rarely laughed before Nick came into our lives. It made me feel guilty that I could never make her happy.

  That would not be the last time I would hear them. It would not be the last time I went back to bed and fell asleep with my hands over my ears.

  19

  Frank

  I’d always wanted to get into the movie business. I did okay at school but learning never really interested me. I liked action.

  As a kid I’d been keen on photography. When I was sixteen my parents gave me a camera and I guess you could say that is where it all started.

  Being a Jewish kid in England in the seventies wasn’t easy. I had to quickly learn how to look after myself. Despite the fact my parents weren’t Hassidic I still had it tough. My father wore a skullcap so everyone knew.

  My grandparents had come over to England when my papa was just young. They’d fled Slovakia to escape the Nazis. My grandfather had arrived with little but the clothes on his back. But he was a smart man and had made friends with other Jews who were involved in the antiques trade. Like my grandfather before him
, he became an antique dealer and Mum worked in a bakery. We lived in a cottage and I went to the local school. I was an only child and Mum doted on me.

  When my father died suddenly of a heart attack, aged forty-two, all that changed. She became very sad and lost all pride in her appearance. Thankfully, Papa left a healthy amount of money in his will so we never went without, but at a tender age of seventeen I became the man of the house.

  I’d left school at sixteen in order to follow my dream of becoming a professional photographer and started to get gigs taking pictures behind the scenes of commercials. I was plucky and ambitious and soon enough a director took me under his wing. He started to teach me all about the industry and let me get to grips with the film cameras and lighting. He saw something in me, I suppose, and I liked him.

  After a few years of working as a runner behind the scenes I decided I wanted more. Being a director’s skivvy wasn’t enough. I didn’t like taking orders and knew I could do a better job than some of the monkeys I was working under.

  Realising I wasn’t reaching my full potential, I started to put myself forward for other jobs. It was easier in those days than it is now. As long as you had the right friends in the right places you could climb the ranks; provided you had talent, and I had plenty of that.

  Ma, who had grown very grey, soon stopped working at the bakery but I was making enough money to ensure she was well looked after. Papa’s inheritance had dwindled when I decided to go it alone and start my own film distribution company. It took a while to get off the ground but eventually people started to take notice and I began to build a name for myself.

  By the eighties my firm was really taking off. I was in my late twenties and professionals in the industry started to recognise my hard work — and me.