Dead End

by Dead End (retail) (epub)

  But it wasn’t just the girls. He was attracted to the spirit of a place too. The serenity of the Lakes charmed him and made him feel at peace. It was the same in the Alps, or back home on the water. Of course, deep-sea diving with great whites was something for adrenalin junkies only, but here he could appreciate nature on a smaller scale, and he noticed details. Besides, it was a good lake to learn in, and it would help him towards his goal of dive master. Students here looked for a gentle swim and a photo opportunity. Occasionally, in July or August, if it was warm enough, he would risk a half-wetsuit, but only if he had his eye on a particularly hot girl in his class.

  He had one here today. She wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, but her butt looked great in neoprene, and when they got back to the centre, she peeled it off, revealing a tiny bikini more suited to Bali than Cumbria, though he wasn’t complaining.

  He’d given the brief. It would be a straightforward navigation dive, and with a bit of luck they’d see some interesting fish. The pike always raised the most gasps: they were butt-ugly and vicious. The kit was counted onto the RIB, and the divers climbed in one by one. He held his hand out to steady them, and the small boat rocked. Some of the girls giggled, and he winked at them. Including two seasoned divers notching up dive time, he had a total of seven. They were put in buddy pairs; the remaining one would be partnered with him. He also had a driver and a guy helping with kit. Getting out of a RIB into the water was easy; getting back into it in full kit, even with an empty tank, was the tricky bit.

  As they headed for the middle of the lake, the surface looked calm and clear. The silt had settled after the huge storm, and it promised to be a good day. They cleared their masks with spit and lake water, and in turn read out the pressure level in their tanks. They checked buoyancy aids, weight belts and itinerary, and they were ready. Jayden went through dive symbols; he liked to finish with a straight palm on top of his head to signal ‘shark’: it always got a laugh.

  ‘Ladies and gents, I’ll go in first and bob around until you’re all in. Don’t make me wait too long. It’s a nice day but it’s still England, right?’

  Another laugh.

  He sucked on his mouthpiece and lowered his mask before rolling backwards and disappearing for a few seconds. He equalised his buoyancy and waited for the others. One by one they plopped in, cleared ears and sucked air. When they were all ready, he began his descent. Today’s dive would be a steady twenty metres, with a deepest point of twenty-four metres. It should take them forty-five minutes, by which time they’d be freezing.

  He watched them all carefully.

  Once on the bottom, he signalled ‘OK’ to every diver, and each replied in turn. So far, so good, he thought. The lake was quiet, and the sun shone through from the surface in great shafts of colour. On a shallow dive such as this, most colours could be discerned, though here in the Lake District the view underwater was chiefly green and brown.

  Twenty-five minutes into the dive, Jayden saw something flash and turned to where he’d spotted it. He held up his hand to stop everyone and wrote on his plastic board: Wait here.

  He swam ten feet to where he’d seen the flash, well within visibility for his team, and looked around. Every now and again, stuff turned up in the Lakes that was found to be worth something, and Jayden was always on the lookout. He turned round and gestured for the others to come over carefully. Once the silt had cleared, they took it in turns to admire his find. He held up his diving GPS, knowing that the coordinates might be required for any salvage work, and gave the thumbs-up. He might very well have just discovered a bounty. There was no way they could take the find with them, but Jayden was excited. He had something to tell the girls later.

  They completed their square route, and made their way back to the RIB, where they’d decompress at six metres. Any dive deeper than fifteen feet had to include safety stops on the ascent to avoid the bends. They took it in turns hanging off the lead rope, looking up at the bottom of the boat. The view was pleasing but also sinister. Jayden had once seen the underbelly of a shark on a dive off South Africa, and it had taken him fifteen minutes to pluck up the courage to swim up to the final six metre safety stop. It had been the longest four minutes of his life, as he stared into the blue abyss waiting for Jaws to strike.

  They handed their tanks up to waiting hands, and took it in turns heaving themselves into the boat. It was a strange sensation, going from weightlessness to land, and they would feel peculiar for a few hours.

  ‘How old did it look?’

  ‘Have you seen it before?’

  ‘Did you try the lock?’

  ‘How will you get it up?’

  They bombarded Jayden with questions, but he knew he’d have to report his find, rather than hiring some lifting gear and going it alone. There was little point getting excited about what might be in it. It had looked pretty new to him, and it was only thanks to the heavy storm that its hiding place had been disturbed.

  They’d know soon enough.

  He’d taken note of the make as well. It was a Chubb DuoGuard Grade 1. There was a three-way handle next to a security knob. It was around fifty centimetres wide, and the same deep and tall. It hadn’t been dropped by accident by someone out walking, or testing their microlight. It’d been dumped in there for a reason.

  Back at the shed, the talk was focused on the unfolding intrigue, and everybody had a theory. Jayden laughed as he listened to them. The closest big town was either Pooley Bridge, or Glenridding, and he didn’t know if either boasted a police station. All police phone numbers were standardised now, so he guessed he’d be put through to a generic switchboard, from where the information would eventually find the right person. He didn’t know anyone with the necessary lifting equipment, but he was sure the police would, or at least mountain rescue.

  It was only eleven o’clock. He asked if anyone fancied an early lunch, and the student with the nice arse said she’d get a sandwich with him. The day was getting better by the hour. Jayden nodded to her and she looked away coyly. The potential of becoming the hero of the hour, with possible media interest, had just elevated him from exotic foreigner with some interesting tattoos to local celebrity, and it didn’t hurt one bit.

  Chapter 39

  ‘I’m sorry. I had no idea Nikki would do that. She just flipped.’

  Johnny put his hands on Kelly’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. The thought of resisting was more exhausting than simply telling the truth, and Kelly realised that she’d never felt that way before about a man. The fight had always excited her more than the armistice. Now, she wanted to be vulnerable. She wanted Johnny to say sorry and mean it. She needed him.

  ‘I don’t know if I want to do this any more,’ she said.

  ‘What? Us?’ He came closer.

  ‘No. This.’ She swept her hand around her. They stood in the hallway of her house in Pooley Bridge, almost in the exact spot where he’d first pressed her against the staircase, ripping her clothes off and making her sweat with anticipation. She bent her head and leant on his shoulder. He smelled of fresh air mixed with Ralph Lauren and she wanted nothing more than to forget her job for a couple of hours, but he was due on duty soon.

  ‘I came back like fucking Poirot, waltzing in and solving everything, expecting Mum to make this huge adjustment to her life and me to just fit in where I’d left off.’

  He held her tighter.

  ‘It’s not working.’

  ‘That’s bullshit. Pick it all apart: is this about Nikki or is it about your job? Because from where I’m sitting, you’re nailing it. So what if your sister is falling apart, so what if your mum is narrow and parochial, so what if your old school friend insulted you? So fucking what?’

  He took her face in his hands and forced her to look up at him. He kissed her eyes and allowed her tears to wet his lips. One hand went to her neck and brought her face closer; the other massaged her scalp through her hair, sending tingles down her back.

  ‘I though
t you needed to go,’ she whispered.

  ‘I do.’

  He took her by her hand and led her upstairs, laying her gently on the bed and starting to undress her. She closed her eyes and pretended that this bed, and what was happening on it, was the only thing that mattered in her world right now.

  ‘I love you, Kelly,’ he said.

  She put one hand over her face. A tiny demon from her past murmured softly into her ear: Don’t believe him, but it was easily batted away.

  ‘I love you too.’

  When she took her hand away, he was looking at her. His face was set in concentration and she realised that it was just as hard for him to say. He didn’t fit in either, but he fitted here. She leant gently to one side as he undid her skirt and slipped it off.

  * * *

  Once she’d closed the door after watching him go, she decided to get a shower and make herself some food. She flicked on the radio and looked at her watch. She’d only popped home for an extra jumper, having found that she hadn’t put one in her car this morning. Johnny had been waiting for her. Now she figured that she had time to make a decent sandwich, grab a bottle of Coke and take a moment to reset. She smiled. All she’d needed was a moment’s intimacy. If only you could bottle it: shagacetamol. It didn’t make any of her problems go away, but it had definitely changed her perspective.

  The news report on the radio focused on the discovery of the safe in the lake. It was an unusual find, and it wasn’t public knowledge that one was missing from the local stately home, but the salvage of it had made headlines. Kelly listened as she sliced cheese. It was a local channel and still played music that she’d grown up to: Blur, the Stereophonics, the Macarena. It was comforting. It struck her that she’d grown used to the provincial charm of her surroundings, and she realised that Johnny was right. She’d caused a rift in the mighty status quo of a little corner of Penrith, but she’d achieved a hell of a lot more than that.

  Fuck ’em.

  Nikki blamed her for not finding her sooner when she’d been held in that shitty garage by The Teacher; she blamed her for everything anyway, so plus ça change. Her mother had some explaining to do, and not the other way around. Michelle Hammond had remained inside her cage since primary school, and not leaving it was her own fault. As for Kelly’s job, she only had to look around the office at Eden House and see how much effort her whole team put in to know that she was worthy of it. She shook her head, surprised that she’d let things get to her.

  She happily finished making her sandwich, and left the house with her extra jumper and bottle of Coke. As always when she was in the car, which was a lot of the time, she ticked off an imaginary list in her head. It didn’t take long for the post-coital elation to wear off and reality to creep back in, surely and steadily as she approached Eden House. But that didn’t stop her from breezing in with a smile on her face and Kate commenting on it.

  ‘Good news, guv?’

  Kelly made a note to herself to meet Johnny more often at her house for a lunchtime break.

  Chapter 40

  Hannah checked under the corner of her mattress.

  At first, the scraps of food he gave her – the odd half a sandwich, a bowl of dry Cheerios, a chicken drumstick – were gobbled greedily as her body craved calories. At university, her training regime was brutal. Judo was an explosive sport and required strength, suppleness and stamina, and she combined cardio fitness with weights. Three times a week she’d run six miles around the campus, and three times a week she hit the gym. She changed her weights routine every four weeks, concentrating on the largest muscles in her body: her glutes, quads and chest. Her diet consisted of high-quality protein and nutritious fats, and the lack of them had made her first angry, then weak, and finally lethargic. Her dreams were dominated by steak, butter, avocados and cheese.

  After a few days – she had no idea exactly how many – a plan had formed in her mind. Instead of consuming the tasty treats thrown to her as if she were an obliging dog, she’d decided to hoard them. The morsels were carefully wrapped in her baby-blue knickers, and stored in the secret corner, underneath the grotty bedding, and it took all her willpower not to cheat and have a bite. It became her new obsession, and she approached the project like any athlete would. So many times she’d counted and arranged the nibbles, even sniffing them to calculate how many calories they contained. She knew each food group and its nutritional value off by heart, and looked at her cache, reckoning she had enough to trick her body into thinking that she’d been on some stupid cleanse, and that she was about to embark on normal eating again. She knew that the time she’d spent in the hovel wasn’t enough to cause serious damage yet, and so her body was storing and preparing for a famine. A good meal would restore her vitality, not permanently, but perhaps long enough to enter a fair fight.

  Some of the meat items smelled, but she no longer cared. In her mind, she saw the best plate of food that a sports nutritionist could possibly produce, and she began taking bites, bit by bit, masticating them thoroughly so that she could properly digest and absorb the goodness. She had to check herself and not swallow too enthusiastically, because her brain was telling her that she was starving.

  She wasn’t.

  She was simply deprived. She had water, and that made all the difference.

  Part of her plan was to acquiesce. The first few times he’d entered her room and approached her, she’d fought like a wild animal, but it made no difference because he overpowered her every time. A woman tied and bound was never a match for a man with a plan. She hated his smell, she detested his body, and she despised his clever talk. Christ, it hurt at first. It stung and burned, and she lay for hours afterwards, degraded, desperate and weak, hating herself and longing to be free. The overwhelming fear that he was doing the same to Sophie was the thing that almost tipped her over the edge.

  Then she’d heard the girl. And it definitely wasn’t Sophie. Whoever it was had displeased their captor, and Hannah was left in no doubt as to what he was capable of. She’d listened to the sickening punches, the grunts and the slaps. She had held her head against the adjoining wall and cried as another girl had succumbed to his rage. Perhaps that was what happened after he simply grew bored, or perhaps she had done something wrong. Whatever the reason, Hannah couldn’t wait any longer. The same fate might already have befallen Sophie. She’d sat, shaking with fear and disgust, as he dragged something out of the adjoining room and into the hallway. It sounded heavy. Hannah guessed that the girl would no longer feel the pain, and she wasn’t coming back.

  She heard the key in the lock and closed her eyes. Her gluttonous feast had been hours ago, and she could feel her blood sugar level surge and her brain come alive. That was all she needed.

  He was a man of predictable taste. He also left the door ajar, presumably in his haste, or excitement, she knew not which. And the last three times, because she’d become a welcoming wretch, he’d cut her cable ties. It aided his comfort, and no doubt convinced him of her subjugation.

  She continued to pretend to sleep. Her heart beat faster and her stomach churned. Doubts assaulted her mind. She knew he was strong, that was certain, but was he as angry as she was? Was he as determined? One thing was for sure: she had the element of surprise.

  She stiffened as he came close to her and shook her shoulder.

  ‘Hannah,’ he whispered.

  The sound of his voice revolted her. He knew their names because they’d exchanged pleasantries when he’d been doing his Good Samaritan act on Loadpot Hill. Hannah knew now that it had all been part of the stage production: names were important. A name could be used to praise, to love, to encourage and to ingratiate. It could also be used to taunt, to bully, to demean and to diminish. It was a clever detail, well rehearsed.

  He turned her over and pulled her cable ties, then cut them. She played along with the game. He didn’t speak, but he smiled and lifted her hair up and away from her shoulders. He did this a lot, as well as forcing her to brush it
. Hannah found herself idly wondering if the other girl had long blonde hair too. Perhaps this was his thing; all psychos had one. Sophie had told her about it after one of her long lectures on murder.

  Hannah held her breath and waited for his arousal. That was when he’d be most vulnerable. He turned his back and began to take off his jeans. She sat up and watched, silently, waiting until he had one leg in and one leg out, no doubt salivating over what was to come.

  As he balanced precariously on one leg, she pounced, springing off the bed, charging towards him and ramming her shoulder into his back as forcefully as she could. He gasped and toppled forward, bashing his head against the chair, which clattered underneath him. She sprinted out of the room and down the hall, desperately searching for a weapon. A kitchen was what she needed, or a fireplace, or a hefty ornament.

  She found none of those things. Just a corridor with two more locked doors and a dead end. There was absolutely nothing that she could pick up, break off or fashion into a blunt instrument capable of causing harm. Nothing.

  She turned and faced the way she’d run, only to find him standing in the hallway, smiling at her. To get out, she needed to pass him, but now they were equals in the arena, and he blocked her way.

  ‘Help! Help!’ she screamed. She lowered her shoulder and charged at him, but this time he was ready. As she flew into him, he brought up his belt and slapped it down onto her head, buckle first, with such force that it stunned her and she fell to the ground. Her vision went misty as her head hit the wooden boards, then he kicked her in the gut. The impact forced the remnants of her last, carefully planned meal upwards and she spewed liquid out onto the floor.

  Before she could engage her brain and produce another last attempt at fighting back, her wrists were forced together and a fresh cable tied tight; tighter than before. She gasped as the plastic cut into her skin.