by Bill Ward
She was feeling both nervous and excited. Feelings she had regularly experienced before competitions. Some competitors would throw up before they went out to compete but she managed to control her nerves. Mara’s warnings about what they would do to her if they caught her, meant she was entirely focused on what lay ahead. Prior to a competition, the coach would talk to them about the need to ‘be in the zone.’ That had never been more true than now, when she considered her life to be in danger if she was caught.
She tiptoed to the door and listened again for any sound of danger. Hearing nothing, she opened the door and then slowly moved across the lounge floor. Her eyes were fixed on the door to Stefan’s room as she made her way to the bathroom. If there was any noise now, she was still relatively safe. She would simply call out that she needed to pee although if he saw how she was dressed she would be in trouble.
The house was old and a floorboard squeaked, causing her to stand perfectly still and listen for any reaction from Stefan’s room. Nothing disturbed the silence so she continued to the bathroom. As she locked the door behind her, she felt a sense of relief and breathed out for the first time since leaving her bedroom. So far so good.
Afina opened the window and peered out into the darkness. There was just enough moonlight to see the ground below. She knew the climb down would be dangerous in daytime let alone the semi darkness but she had no choice. She simply had to get away.
She had previously identified the cast iron guttering looked quite solid and her hope was it would support her weight, at least some of the way to the ground. She knelt on the windowsill looking into the bathroom and reached for the gutter. As a young gymnast she had been able to climb ropes and was generally light on her feet. She hoped all those hours of training would finally turn out to be useful.
She wrapped her hands around the gutter and then said a small prayer as she swung her legs out into the void before gripping the gutter with her knees and ankles. The gutter creaked but held firm. It was fortunate she was so light. She slowly moved downwards. As she came parallel with a window on the second floor she smiled at her progress, knowing she was a third of the way towards safety. Even now, if she fell, she might have a chance.
She descended another ten feet and she began to relax. In just another few feet she would be safe and the moment her feet touched the ground she was going to run as fast as she could, as far away from this hell as possible.
She didn’t wait to reach the ground but sprung down the last few feet. She landed lightly on her toes. It would have deserved a ten from any judge. She was in the small patio garden, which was completely overrun with weeds and bushes. She crouched down low and listened but there were no shouts from above indicating her escape had been detected.
Afina had identified the side gate as her means to exit the garden and now moved towards it, careful not to make too much noise. The gate opened easily enough and she found herself in an alley running down the side of the building. She crept in the direction of the front of the building and looked out onto a quiet road. The road was well lit, which made her nervous about leaving the comfort of the shadows where she was hiding. There was no sound and no signs of life so she turned to the right and walked quickly towards safety. She didn’t want to run and attract attention but after a few yards the urge was too great and she started to sprint. She had no idea where the road led but didn’t care, she was free.
After a short distance, the road turned to the left and went uphill for a short time before joining a major road lined with shops. Afina stopped and drew a further deep breath. The fresh air of freedom tasted extra good. A sense of exhilaration unlike anything she had ever experienced coursed through her body.
She was surprised to find the road was quite busy even at this late hour. She glanced at her watch to check she hadn’t left earlier than planned. It was three in the morning but there were cars going in both directions and a few people walking past. This wasn’t like the suburb of Bucharest where she lived. At this time of night it would be deserted. She didn’t have any idea which direction she should take but settled for turning right and walked at a fast pace. She was feeling more and more elated with every step she took.
She had only gone fifty yards when she saw a man walking towards her and her heart skipped a beat. There was no mistaking Dimitry’s stocky build and menacing, dark looks. She saw the sudden look of recognition on his face and immediately turned in blind panic and started to run.
She had about twenty metres head start and cast a glance over her shoulder to see he was gaining.
“Help me! She screamed at the top of her voice but at no one in particular. “Please help me!”
She could hear Dimitry’s footsteps pounding on the pavement, getting closer.
Afina saw the couple ahead start running in her direction. She took a second to register they were wearing uniforms. In the same instant she recognised they were almost certainly police officers, she felt the hand grab her jacket from behind and pull her to a stop.
“Let go of her,” the female police officer demanded as she came close.
“Fuck off,” Dimitry replied and started to pull Afina away from the officers. “She belongs to me.”
“Let go of her now,” the male police officer also demanded, moving to block Dimitry’s path.
Dimitry threw Afina to the ground and in the same moment his right hand reached inside his belt and withdrew a six inch blade, which without warning, he stabbed into the police officer’s chest.
As Afina landed on the ground she tried to squirm away from Dimitry and looked up to see him brandishing the knife in the direction of the police woman. The male police officer had fallen to his knees but suddenly reached out and wrapped his arms around Dimitry’s legs, trying to pull him to the ground. The female police officer was circling Dimitry with a baton in her hand, trying to land a blow.
Afina had crawled a few feet away and climbed unsteadily to her feet. Dimitry was trying to free his legs and lunging out with his knife towards the policewoman. For a second her eyes locked with those of the young policewoman who shouted, “Run!”
In that moment, Afina saw Dimitry stab the policewoman and she fell to the ground clutching at her chest. Afina felt a sickening sense of guilt, brought on by the knowledge she had been responsible for this young girl being stabbed. She had never felt such despair. She knew the image of the poor girl’s white shirt turning crimson would stay with her for the rest of her life.
She reasoned there was nothing she could do to help the police girl so turned and fled without looking back. She took the first turning off the main road and then another turning, always heading away from the devil that was Dimitry. She listened for steps running after her but there was nothing. The quiet was broken only by the sound of at least two police sirens rushing to the scene.
Adrenaline carried her a long way but she had been running uphill and eventually she had to slow to a walk. She was at a roundabout with several roads running off in different directions. She had no idea which direction to take. Turning right had been a terrible decision last time so she was thinking left must be a better bet when she saw a couple of young girls approaching. Afina was bent double, trying to catch her breath.
“You alright?” one of the girls asked. She had short blonde hair and a rather masculine appearance.
“No.” Afina answered. In truth she was feeling desperate. “Someone just tried to rape me and I only just escaped.”
“Oh my God! That’s awful,” the other girl responded. She had a number of tattoos and piercings but was still very feminine, with longer, brown hair than her friend and a fresh, pretty face. “Shall we call the police?”
“No,” Afina replied hurriedly. “No police.” Tears were running down her cheeks. She wiped the tears away with her sleeve. “I’m alright now, just a bit shocked by what happened.”
The first girl put her arm around Afina’s shoulder. “Look, we live just a minute away. Do you want to come back to our pl
ace and rest up for a bit? Then we can get you a taxi home.”
Afina was overjoyed. “Thank you,” she said, wiping her eyes. She could explain later she no longer had a home that could be reached by taxi. She just needed to get off the road for a bit, in case Dimitry was searching for her. “That would be very nice of you.” She was already feeling safer in their company.
“I’m Emma,” the blonde introduced herself. “And this is Becky.”
“Thank you so much, I am Afina.”
“That’s a lovely name,” said Emma. “Where are you from?”
“Romania.”
“Right, let’s go get a cup of tea or something stronger, if you prefer and then we’ll sort out that taxi.”
CHAPTER FIVE
No one delivers good news at four thirty in the morning. The sound of the doorbell awakened him from a deep sleep. He didn’t immediately open his eyes, not sure if he had been dreaming but then the bell rang twice more in quick succession and he knew there really was someone at his front door, in the middle of the night. There was a nervous knot in his stomach as he climbed from his bed and took his dressing gown from where it hung behind the bedroom door.
As he descended the stairs, he switched on the hall lights, announcing to whoever was outside that he was awake. He glanced at the mirror on the wall and ran his hands through his hair to make himself look a little more presentable. He looked tired not just because his sleep had been disturbed. There were too many lines around his eyes and his hair was turning grey in places. Craggy faced was about the best compliment he was ever likely to receive.
He checked the chain was on the front door as he opened it a few inches. He couldn’t imagine anyone intent on doing him physical harm, would be standing on the other side of the door but it was best to be cautious. He had spent twenty years being extremely cautious.
“Mr. Powell?” the man in the suit asked. Beside him stood a policeman in uniform,
“Yes.”
“I’m Chief Inspector Brown. Can we come in please, Sir?”
“Is it about my daughter?” Powell asked, desperately hoping for a negative response.
“Yes, Sir. Can we speak inside please?”
Powell checked the warrant card the Chief Inspector was proffering, which seemed in order. He closed the door again so he could remove the chain and then stood back to allow the two policemen to enter. He didn’t want to let them in. He wanted to go back to bed and wake up having had a bad dream. He was quite sure what he was about to experience would be his worst nightmare. If it was a trivial matter they would have spoken to him on his doorstep. Powell had studied both policemen’s faces. He could see the warning signs in the Chief Inspector’s discomfort. The second officer had tried to avoid Powell’s gaze altogether. Coming inside could only mean bad news.
Powell’s anxiety had increased a hundredfold as he led them silently through to the living room. Conversation wasn’t necessary. There was no urgency to hear terrible news. He was still clinging to hope, which would inevitably disappear once the Chief Inspector revealed his reason for being present.
Powell sat on his favourite leather chair and the policemen sat themselves on the sofa.
“I’m afraid we have some bad news,” the Chief Inspector began. “In the early hours of this morning, while out on patrol, your daughter and a colleague have been attacked…”
Powell knew he was now in the last chance saloon. He gripped the arms of his chair praying Bella was only injured. The Chief Inspector’s next words crushed his last hope.
“I’m terribly sorry to have to inform you that your daughter died in the ambulance on the way to hospital.”
“How did she die?” Powell asked in a steady voice masking his emotions. Inside his mind he was no longer sitting in his lounge. He was remembering the tiny bundle of joy born twenty years ago with a dark mop of hair. Remembering the first time he held Bella in his arms and promised to always protect her. He’d failed her as badly as he’d failed her mother.
“I’m afraid I don’t yet know many details about what happened,” the Chief Inspector replied.
“Where did they take her? Which hospital?”
“Sussex County.”
Powell was on his feet in a second. “I need to go see her.”
“Is there someone you can call, Sir? To be with you.”
“I don’t need anyone to hold my hand,” Powell snapped. “I need to go see Bella. I’m going upstairs to get dressed and then I’m going to the hospital.”
“Sir, Bella is dead,” the Chief Inspector stressed.
“I heard you the first time, Chief Inspector. I simply wish to see her and say goodbye.” Powell wasn’t going to share the real reason for his urgency to see his daughter’s body. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m in a hurry.” Powell used his arm to point towards the front door, indicating he wanted the policemen to leave.
Almost reluctantly the two policemen followed Powell to the front door.
“We all liked Bella,” the Chief Inspector said, on the doorstep. “We are terribly sorry for your loss. I will be in touch again tomorrow when I know more of the facts.”
“Thank you, Chief Inspector.” Powell closed the door to end any possibility of further conversation or delay.
He retraced his steps to the bedroom where such a short time earlier he had been in a deep sleep, blissfully unaware of how his life was about to be torn apart for the second time. He was almost grateful Bella’s mother was no longer alive and having to endure this pain but thinking of her only compounded his feelings of guilt. He had failed them both so terribly and there would be no second chances.
There were people to be called but they could wait. His own mother lived in the warmth of Lanzarote where she had moved five years earlier after the death of his father. Vanessa’s mother similarly lived alone in Bournemouth, after her husband died of cancer just a couple of years after Vanessa was murdered. If cancer could be brought on by a broken heart then that was what had happened. Both grandmothers were going to be devastated by Bella’s death.
From Powell’s home in Hove it took only fifteen minutes to reach the hospital. The roads were deserted but despite the urgency, Powell kept to the speed limits. Less than an hour had passed since the knock on his door to when he was staring at Bella’s lifeless body on a trolley. Her birth certificate said Isabella but she had only ever been called Bella. She had been a beautiful baby and grown into a beautiful young woman.
Powell had been given a private room to say his farewells and asked to be alone when the nurse had appeared to be planning to stay in the room. Bella looked serene and peaceful. All but her face was covered by a white sheet. He pulled the sheet back to reveal her naked body. He felt uncomfortable looking at her naked but he needed to see first-hand how she had died. There was evidence of a knife wound below her left breast. He took his phone from his pocket and took several pictures from different angles.
“I’m sorry darling,” Powell spoke softly. “I swear I will find whoever is responsible for this and when I do they will wish they had never been born.”
He remembered their last conversation a couple of days earlier. She had been rushing out for a late shift and they had barely spoken but he remembered her last words were, “I love you.”
He was a short step from completely disintegrating and fought back the tide of dark emotion that was trying to envelop him. He needed to focus and remain strong. There would be time later for grieving.
Powell replaced the sheet. He stroked her hair, pushing it away from her face, and leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the lips. He stood up straight and gazed upon his daughter’s body for the last time. Then he turned and strode purposefully out of the room.
CHAPTER SIX
Afina awoke from a nightmare infested sleep and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Emma and Becky talking in the kitchen. It had not all been a bad dream. She had escaped from Dimity and Stefan. She was safe, at least for the time being but she had witn
essed the two police officers who came to her rescue both being stabbed. She wondered if they were dead. If so, it was all her fault.
She threw back the blanket and sat up on the couch that had been her bed for the night. She glanced at her watch. It was ten thirty. She picked up her jeans from the floor and pulled them on, then headed for the sound of the voices, which were coming from the kitchen.
“Morning,” Emma said, as she spotted Afina. “Would you like some tea or coffee?”
“Coffee please.”
“How did you sleep?” asked Rebecca.
“Good, thank you.”
Afina could not believe how lucky she had been to find these girls. They had taken her home and given her a large brandy, after which they had offered her the chance to sleep on their couch. Somehow they seemed to understand she was in trouble and hadn’t bombarded her with too many questions. She didn’t want to call the police and didn’t want a taxi, as she had no money and nowhere to stay.
Emma filled a mug with fresh filter coffee and placed it on the small table. “Help yourself to milk and sugar,” she said.
Rebecca put a plate containing toast in the middle of the table. “Help yourself,” she said.
Afina sat down at the table and added a small amount of milk to her coffee. “You are both very kind,” she said.
“I’m glad we were able to help,” Emma answered, taking the chair opposite Afina. She shot a glance at Becky before continuing. “Becky and I have been talking and we’ve agreed that if you want to stay for a few days while you sort yourself out that will be fine with us.”
“That’s if you don’t mind the couch,” Becky said, smiling and sitting in the remaining chair.
“Really? You don’t mind?”
“You’re in a foreign country with no money and nowhere to stay. It’s the least we can do,” stressed Becky.
