Dark Winter Series (Book 1): Dark Winter

by Fernfield, Rebecca

  “Last night.”

  “Listen, a man like that could have floored anyone, whether they had a prosthetic leg or not.”

  “I can’t help you.”

  “You can and you will, Jez Gallagher. Those girls will be drugged and sold on, maybe to paedophile rings. Anna - that’s the older sister’s name - she’s eighteen. Her sister, Jemima, she’s twelve. Twelve, Jez! What chance has a kid that age got to survive what they’d do to her?” She held Jez’s gaze. “And do you know why they’ve ended up with him?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Because their mother died, Jez. Ten days ago, their mother died, and Social Services wanted to put the sister into care.”

  “Their mother died?”

  Yeah,” she said sagging back into the sofa. “Ovarian cancer.” Silence settled in the room, self-loathing coating Vicky like a wet blanket; Jez’s mum had died of ovarian cancer when he was thirteen. Three weeks after being diagnosed she was gone. Luckily for Jez, he had grandparents who took him on. “I’m sorry, Jez! I shouldn’t-”

  “No. It’s okay.” His eyes had filmed over. Fauzia’s arm curled around his shoulders, her head resting against his arm. “We’ll do it. We’ll help,” he said with absolute certainty.

  “And we’ll get your gun back too!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Several times throughout the night, Anna had woken with a jolt, awakened by muttered words from Jem as she slept, a dog barking, the flush of a toilet from upstairs and, as the light began to filter through thin curtains, by the cold.

  Her breath billowed white as she sat up on the sofa, the sleeping bag dropping to her waist. She pulled it tight to her chin as her mind pulled the confused memories together. Her mother was dead, and she was homeless, sleeping on a stranger’s sofa in a freezing house. Staring at the curtain, the events of the previous day assaulted her, and then the woman who had stood before her. That she had been able to creep into the house unnoticed scared Anna and made her realise just how vulnerable she had made Jem. Anyone could attack them. Panic swam through her blood, heart tapping with painful beats. The policewoman had said that Gregor was dangerous – trafficked in women and girls – but Jem had clung to him, asking for his help, and he had done nothing but promise to take care of them. She swallowed, the contradictory thoughts making her feel dazed. She had no idea of what to do – how to make Jem safe and, given all the horror stories about gangs of men raping teenage girls and targeting children’s homes in England, there was no way she would send Jem to that fate. Her initial plan had to stand – get to France and their Aunt.

  A knock at the living room door startled her and she turned as it slowly opened. The knock came again.

  “You awake?”

  The voice was soft, considerate, and carried Gregor’s distinctive accent

  Anna rose from the sofa. “Yes,” she called back, combing fingers through her messy hair, uncomfortable that she had to face him in such an unwashed state. She reached into her pocket for a piece of chewing gum to at least freshen her breath.

  “So ...” He searched for her name. “Anna. You slept well?”

  For someone who headed a vicious drug gang, he was surprisingly awkward.

  “Not too bad,” she lied.

  “I make you tea – with lots of sugar – sugar is good for shock and give you energy. Today you will need energy.”

  “Oh ... I guess ... but just one sugar, please.”

  “Hah! Same as my Juno.” His eyes glittered.

  There it was, that name again. She had to find out who ‘Juno’ was.

  Gregor disappeared into the kitchen and busied himself filling the tin kettle brought back last night. He grumbled about the cold. “We will be only people with hot tea this morning.” He grinned, the skin around his eyes crinkling and his eyes sparkling. Under his arm was tucked a packet of chocolate-filled croissants. “Is not good breakfast for health,” he said as he held out the packet, “but is what we could get last night.”

  “Thank you,” Anna replied as he passed her the packet.

  “Tonight, we go out again. Get bread, cheese, ham, coffee ...” He stalled, gazed at Anna, then broke away to light the camping stove on the dining room table. “Anna ...”

  “Yes?”

  “Today we leave here. Today we must find somewhere safe. This woman who came last night, she is police. She will come back to take you,” he swallowed, “take you from me, from this house.”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking. Me and Jem ... we should maybe go. I want to take her to my Aunt’s house. We’ll be safe there.”

  “The one in France?”

  “Yes, she’s-”

  “No! Is not safe. No buses. No trains. Aeroplanes fall from the sky. No boats.”

  “But-”

  “I’m sorry. I did not mean to upset you but is not safe. This you must understand. If we are at war, you cannot leave this country.”

  “But we have to go to my-”

  “When things are okay again, I help you get to your aunt’s house. Okay?”

  He caught her eye for a moment, then focused on the kettle. Steam began to rise from its spout. “Is promise, Anna, and Gregor Zekovic does not break promise. You understand?”

  She hesitated then said, “Yes, I understand.”

  The next minutes were spent in awkward conversation as she ate her croissant and sat with Gregor as he drank his tea. He was an enigma. The policewoman had insisted he was dangerous, and she had seen how the others were around him, even Callum who seemed to be his closest friend was uneasy in his presence and the woman, Shannon, had bruises that Anna was convinced had been caused by Gregor. When Callum joined them, Gregor’s demeanour changed. No longer relaxed, he commanded them both to be ready to leave the house in twenty minutes then disappeared.

  Anna woke Jem, offered her a mug of tea and a croissant, then hurried her to get dressed. Fifteen minutes later, Gregor reappeared. He closed the door quietly behind him and asked in a low voice if they were ready. Callum nodded. He had his bag packed. Gregor had his green holdall. Jake was also ready. In another two minutes he had filled the rucksack, another find from last night’s haul, with the gas stove in a plastic bag.

  “So, we are ready?”

  “What about the others?”

  “It is only us. The rest stay. They will only be stones on our feet.”

  Anna frowned.

  “He means they’ll hold us back – a millstone around our necks,” Jake explained.

  “But if we take the stove, then they can’t make any food,” Jem said.

  “They get another one,” Gregor said. “Now, we leave.”

  The early morning sun promised a brighter winter’s day though their breath plumed as they walked away from the house.

  “Gregor!” Shannon’s shrill voice carried on the air.

  “Ignore,” Gregor commanded.

  Shannon stood at the gate. “Gregor!” she called. “Where are you going?”

  Gregor continued to ignore her, picking up his pace.

  “She’s calling you,” Jem said, tugging at his sleeve.

  “Gregor!” Shannon screamed. The words that followed brought a flush to Anna’s cheeks.

  “Did you hear that, Anna?” Jem laughed as the woman began to rage, filling the air with expletives.

  Gregor remained impassive as they turned the corner without a backward glance at the shrieking woman. They took the road out of town.

  Several hours passed before they reached the edge of town, tracked down a narrow, tree-lined road, and stopped before a pair of ornate wrought iron gates that stood at least eight feet tall. On the other side was a modern-style house with huge plate glass windows and a large porch. Two large containers held neatly clipped topiary on either side of the door. The house was surrounded by lawn and then beyond that were trees. The house was secluded, standing alone in the road, and obviously the property of someone very wealthy.

  “Who lives here?”

&nb
sp; “My friend,” Gregor responded as he continued to look through the iron gate. Dumping his holdall, he retrieved a tool, and began to pick the lock. Minutes later he had unlocked the gate.

  “Won’t your friend mind?” Anna asked, checking down the drive to search for any sign of the owner.

  “No. He will not. He is out of town for the week and he will be happy to help us.” Gregor pushed the gate open. “Ladies first.” He gestured for Anna to step through the gates with a wide sweep of his arm.

  AS GREGOR CLOSED THE wrought iron gates of their new ‘home’, Vicky stepped back into Jez’s apartment. Their journey to the trap house had been a waste of time and the only people there were the scrawny woman with the black eye she had first seen on the surveillance camera in the van, and a fattish young adult whose face was as slack as his fifteen-hours-a-day gaming body and who went by the descriptive name of ‘Toadie’. The woman spat Gregor’s name, said that hell would freeze over before she would take him back, then took great drags on a cigarette with trembling hands. Vicky guessed that this addict was in need of a fix. Toadie had been even less useful, and either feigned being an imbecile, or was one. Vicky and Jez left the house without any information about where the men had taken the girls

  “Last night they said that they’d come back for more supplies,” Jez said as he took off his coat. “So, we wait.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  There were no lights on in the house, and no cars parked in the driveway. Set back, and to the side, was a large garage with enough space for four cars. Anna had never been inside such a grand house and it made the small terrace they had just abandoned seem even meaner.

  Finding the front door locked, Gregor took them to the back of the house. The wide lawn was edged by tall but neatly trimmed privet hedging now topped with a thick layer of snow. At the end of the lawn an archway had been cut through the wall of hedging and led further into another area of the garden whilst immediately outside the house was a broad slabbed area set with a large table surrounded by eight chairs, also covered in snow. At the side of the house was an oversized, tastefully elaborate, orangery.

  “It’s beautiful,” Jem said as she pushed up against the glass, quickly pulling back as its cold surface nipped at her nose. Gregor set to work unlocking the backdoor and two minutes later they were standing inside a large open-plan kitchen and living room. Despite being uninhabited, it felt warm.

  “Won’t your friend mind that we’re here,” ventured Anna.

  “No. He is good friend. He will understand.”

  In the living room area, oversized velvet sofas sat either side of a coffee table. The table was carefully set with photographs in narrow black frames, and a stack of photography magazines. The room was dominated by a huge central fireplace that was open on both sides to radiate heat to the entire space. A large, cast iron, double-sided wood burner sat in the hearth. Beside it was a wicker basket filled with logs. After commanding Callum to close the door, Gregor turned his attention to the fire. As he opened its glass door and began to fill it with kindling and logs, he demanded that Anna check the kitchen for food whilst Callum and Jake checked through the house. Without question, they disappeared. Doors opened and closed, and their footsteps could be heard wandering through the upper floor. “All clear” Jake called as the kindling caught and began to burn. Gregor placed it carefully between the stacked logs and within minutes flames were licking at their edges. Gregor stood admiring the flame with a smile of contentment.

  “Soon we will be warm.”

  Anna presented the food she had found in the cupboards. “Bread, bacon, cheese, biscuits ...”

  Gregor beamed. “Excellent! We will have feast.”

  “There’s food in the freezer too. Some steaks and chicken ...” She trailed off, self-conscious under Gregor’s stare. Although his smile was kind, the intensity of his gaze was unsettling. Aware of her discomfort, he clapped his hands then turned to the cupboards, and gave a triumphant, “Yes!” as he pulled out a frying pan. “I will make bacon butties. Anna, you make tea.” Like Callum and Jake, though deeply confused, she obeyed Gregor without hesitation.

  Half an hour later, Anna sat with Jem relaxing in the sofa’s velvety softness, warmed by the fire. Gregor roared with laughter at one of Callum’s jokes and the moment seemed an eternity away from the shabby bedsit they had fled and the cold and dreary terrace on Lovett Street. Gregor seemed a changed man too. As he laughed, she noticed that Callum’s gaze was on her. He glanced away and joined in with the laughter.

  As the afternoon wore on, Gregor added more logs to the fire and then sat in quiet contemplation. Jem hitched close to him, falling asleep at his side. With Jake posted as lookout, Anna and Callum were effectively alone, and he followed her into the kitchen. She boiled the kettle for hot water and began to clean up the mess from lunchtime preparations.

  They moved about the kitchen in a semi-awkward silence, Anna’s heart tripping faster than normal. Each time Callum passed her, she felt a thrill and when they both reached for the same plate, their hands touching, the thrill came as a shock that shot along her arm. Instead of withdrawing his hand, he let it rest on top of hers, and she made no effort to pull it away. Having him so close was intoxicating. He laughed sheepishly, breaking the spell. “Sorry!”

  “No ... I don’t mind ... I mean, it’s okay,” she stumbled, instantly berating herself for sounding like some slushy teenager from a bad romance.

  He took the plate from the drainer and dried it.

  Finally, the kitchen was as immaculate as when they had arrived. The sun was lowering, and snow began to fall in fat flakes. They found candles in a cupboard complete with glass holders and beside them a packet of matches.

  “Whoever owns this house is organised,” Callum said as Anna set the candles in a row on the sparkling black granite worktop of the kitchen’s central island.

  “I thought you knew who owned it,” Anna replied, a little thrown by his comment. “Gregor said it belonged to a friend.”

  Callum hesitated for a second before replying, “Yeah, of course. It’s an old friend.”

  Something about his reply didn’t ring true and Anna was about to question him further when Gregor grunted then shouted in his sleep. Both laughed, caught up in a shared moment. Their eyes locked and a questioning flicker appeared in Callum's. Heart beating a little faster Anna couldn't move. Her breath caught as Callum took a step closer and bent in for a kiss. His lips were soft on her own and the sensation of his skin against hers sent a shockwave of desire through her body. She stepped back with a small gasp, shocked at her body's intense reaction. Callum’s look of happy confusion dropped the instant Gregor appeared in the doorway.

  "What is going on in here?" His voice carried an edge of malice, his eyes narrowed to slits.

  Callum's face drained of colour beneath the flickering glow from the candles. "We're just tidying up the kitchen."

  "And I was just about to go upstairs to look for bedding." Anna struggled to keep the tremble from her voice, unsure whether it was caused by Callum's kiss or Gregor's aggressive energy. "It's warm down here," she continued, "We thought we could all sleep downstairs by the fire."

  Gregor grunted and continued to watch them both with suspicion. "Okay, Anna. Is good idea. I will come with you to help. Callum you must go outside to collect more wood."

  "But there's plenty till morning."

  "Go with Jake. Fetch more wood. You understand?"

  The tension between the men was brittle and Callum seemed hesitant to agree, but after only a moment he disappeared from the kitchen and Anna was left alone with Gregor. "Come," he said in a gentler tone. "We will search this house for warm blankets."

  The next half an hour was spent collecting duvets, pillows, and blankets from the bedrooms and a neat linen closet on the landing. The air in the upstairs rooms was far cooler than downstairs and billowed white around them, and the only light came from Gregor's torch and the moonlight streaming through t
he windows. "Close curtains," Gregor demanded. "Will help keep cold out." Anna dutifully closed the curtains in each room then, with an armful of duvets and pillows, took the remaining bedding down into the living room.

  The air was warm although a cold draft seeped down from the upper floor into the open plan space. When Jake and Callum returned with more logs, they were instructed to bring the three single mattresses down from the bedrooms and place them around the fire. More logs were thrown into the burner, the glass door left open to help heat radiate out into the room, pushing back the cold to its corners.

  "Thermometer outside reads minus ten," Jake mentioned as Anna placed a duvet around Jem's shoulders. The girl sat before the fire her face illuminated by the orange flames. "They said on the news, before this blackout, that this was going to be a hard winter."

  "I heard that too," Jem added. "Before Mum ... Before the funeral, they said it was going to be the coldest winter on record."

  "What is the coldest winter on record?"

  "Minus twenty or so," Callum confirmed.

  "How you know this, Frostie?"

  "The telly. I was watching a documentary about it back home. The coldest winter on record was in 1963. They called it the Big Freeze. It got down to about minus twenty and the sea froze over."

  "Bloody hell! And they said it's going to be colder than that this winter?"

  "Maybe not that cold, but yeah, that's the prediction."

  "How are we going to survive?"

  "We will manage, Little Chickie. Gregor will make sure you survive. No need to worry."

  Again, Jem leant up against Gregor, and Anna felt the tie between the pair strengthen and the control she had over her sister weaken. Anna experienced a ripple of fear. Jem seemed to listen to every word he said, lapping up his stories and jokes, wanting to sit close. Gregor, Anna realised, was taking the place of the father they had lost. Immediately after he’d left them to set up home with another woman, his visits had been regular, but it hadn't taken long for him to stop calling or asking them to come over to stay. When he missed Jem's ninth birthday and Anna discovered he was on honeymoon in Tenerife, she had stopped making any effort to see him at all. He hadn't even mentioned that he was getting married. Now, the only link to him was Aunty Liccia in France. Anna sat with her back against the sofa, enjoying the warmth thrown out by the fire and began to plan how she would get to France. As soon as the electricity was back on, she would contact Aunty Liccia. Perhaps she could buy them tickets and meet them in Amiens?