Every so often he’d catch a glimpse of Lucy’s fluorescent strips glowing in the torchlight. He cursed that she’d not thought to turn her clothing inside out, oblivious to the fact that she was giving herself away.
Jack moved quietly between the trees, all the time watching Rosa behind him. She was not involved in the hunt for Lucy, she’d let the others go ahead. Rosa had a different prey. He tried to pick out the voices in front of him, desperately trying to figure out what was going on.
Jack was troubled by the man they’d struck on the road. The horror of those events had subsided already, overtaken by the need to survive and stay alive. But the man had looked familiar. Could it really have been Matt Rackham? No, he must be mistaken. What would Matt have been doing in the middle of nowhere miles from Aberdeen?
Lucy had picked up the man’s wallet in the road. That should settle the question of his identity.
Jack glanced over his shoulder. Rosa had gone. He’d been distracted, deep in his own thoughts. He had to focus.
He heard a voice call in the distance.
‘You want her alive?’
He strained to hear the answer. He caught the tail end of it.
‘… make it look like she drowned.’
Their relationship difficulties seemed trivial compared to this. He felt ashamed that he’d had thoughts of leaving her, wondering if he and Hamish could make it on their own.
They had killed the man in the car and now they were hunting down Lucy, they were covering their tracks. What could he do? They’d kill him too, he had no way to defend himself.
Scanning the woods for Rosa, Jack took cover behind a dense gorse bush. He had to somehow get ahead and reach Lucy before they did – and tell her to hide those damn fluorescents. They needed to get to wherever the phone signal kicked back in again. He daren’t check his mobile, he was terrified it might light up and give away his whereabouts. He realised he’d left the volume turned up loud in case Sophie and Clive needed to get in touch about Hamish. It was the dead of night, they wouldn’t call now. Surely not?
Where the hell was Rosa? He couldn’t see her or hear her. Jack edged forward, desperate not to lose the main pack. He heard the sound of water – the river, at last. He’d make his way along the edge, at least they’d all be heading in the same direction.
He searched hard in the darkness for Rosa’s outline, the fools ahead were giving away their whereabouts with their torches. He counted four of them, but it was difficult to tell.
Just Rosa on her own, who knew where?
The river was running fast, he cursed the recent heavy rain. The bank was steep, but not so steep that he couldn’t climb down it. A twig snapped to his right. He almost missed the sound against the roar of the water. He crouched down, listening for any clue as to where Rosa was. Silence. He waited, it felt like minutes but it can have only been seconds. Then, the click of a weapon. Was that the sound guns make when they are cocked ready to fire? He wished he’d paid more attention to the countless American dramas he’d watched on TV.
There was shouting up ahead, they were closing in on Lucy.
‘Over there, she’s heading for the river.’
‘Spread out along this stretch, make sure she doesn’t cross.’
‘Don’t shoot. We need to make this look like a drowning. You got that Blake?’
If they weren’t going to shoot, it would buy Jack time. He’d have at least a small chance of getting to Lucy before they did. He could see from the torch lights that they were taking position dotted along the riverbank. If he could make it through a gap in the sentries and slip into the water he might have a chance of saving her.
He’d have to risk being seen by Rosa. Jack moved out wide, constantly looking around him, expecting at any moment to be spotted. He reckoned that, once in the water, Lucy would move with the current so she was more likely to be further down the river, not higher up. The group of men hadn’t worked that out, so at least he had that advantage over them. For now.
Moving quietly through the woodland, he reached the water’s edge. The trees were close together and the river was lined with bushes. He caught a flash of Lucy’s jacket ahead as the torch beams swept across the water.
He stepped in up to his knees, it was icy cold and, even close to the bank, he could feel the force of the current. Cautiously, he moved from the side, unsure as to the depth, feeling for stones and firm ground on which to rest his feet. He would need to go in up to shoulder height. The less visible he was, the better.
Jack grabbed a handful of mud, twigs and foliage, debris from the river that had piled up against a fallen tree trunk. He rubbed the mud over his face and did his best to cover his head with the matted twigs and leaves. He wanted to laugh out loud at himself in the darkness and cold of the river, but he knew that to do so could result in the death of them both.
Slowly, he moved through the water, trying not to get pushed forward by the powerful current. If he could get to Lucy ... if they could safely make their way to the other side.
He saw her up ahead. He daren’t call out. She was right in at the side of the bank, ducking her head under the water whenever the torch beams scanned the river. He could hear the men calling to each other. They were getting annoyed and impatient, fearing they’d lost track of their targets.
Jack was in whispering distance of Lucy when, from nowhere, Rosa leapt from the bank into the water. He was unsure for a moment if it was him she’d seen or Lucy. It was Lucy.
Rosa grabbed Lucy’s head, as if to check it was her, and then pushed her face deep and hard back into the water. Lucy thrashed around, she couldn’t breathe. Jack hurriedly looked towards the bank. The men were closing in on them. Rosa had made no sound, this was her kill, but the others had been drawn by the splashing of the water.
Jack had only a moment to act. Lucy wouldn’t be able to hang on for long. Rosa hadn’t seen him yet and the men were beginning to clamber down the bank. He had the element of surprise.
Rising out of the water, he lunged towards Rosa. He was cold and his clothes were heavy. He felt as if he was moving in slow motion. Rosa saw him coming and instinctively reached for her gun. It wasn’t there, she must have left it at the side of the water to keep it dry. Her hand moved quickly to the other side of her belt where her hunting knife was sheathed, but the delay had given Jack the seconds that he needed. He crashed into her and she fell back into the river. Lucy’s head ripped through the water, and she took a desperate breath, like a new-born baby entering the world.
‘Come with me!’ Jack shouted, taking her hand. She was fighting for air and she could barely see; mud from the river bed was caked across her face.
Rosa was regaining her footing. They had to wade through the water as fast as they could. The men with the guns were almost upon them.
‘Go Lucy, go! Don’t stop, keep moving!’
Lucy was dazed, weak and confused, but she sensed Jack’s urgency and began to fight her way across the river.
Rosa was on him already, her hands tightly squeezed around his neck. Her grip was strong, crushing his throat. He was fading already, but he forced a turn so that he could see that Lucy was getting away. Is this what it was like to die? If it was, it didn’t seem too bad. He was becoming increasingly lightheaded, there was no pain now, just a sense of drifting away.
Then a shot – two shots. A thud in the water. A new voice coming from behind him. A body floating down the river.
‘This is important, Maxine. You’d better not be lying to me. Are you sure that no one called while we were out?’
Lucy was embarrassed that she’d lost her temper with Maxine and in front of Sophie too. The sight of the woman in the car had agitated her. What the hell did she want?
Maxine’s face was red. She wasn’t used to conflicts like this. Lucy immediately regretted laying into her so hard.
It was Jack who’d pushed for Maxine to babysit. He was so desperate to give Lucy a rest from Hamish, that he’d almost fallen
over with joy when Maxine turned up unannounced on the doorstep asking for the work.
‘But we don’t know anything about her,’ Lucy had protested, ‘and she’s probably never had any experience with babies.’
Maxine had spotted their ad in the community pamphlet that did the rounds of the three villages in their parish.
Childminder/babysitter sought for local couple. Must have references and previous experience. Up to four hours each week.
They’d had no response at first. The perils of rural living. Jack had begun to think they were going to draw a blank. Lucy felt the suggestion of getting someone else in to watch over Hamish from time to time was an insult to her mothering abilities, but Jack saw that she needed the break and he was determined to get this help.
Maxine turned up at the door on a Sunday morning. Hamish had obliged them by sleeping through the night and they’d just had Sunday morning sex, a ritual that they missed from their pre-child days. Jack answered the door in his boxers and a back-to-front T-shirt. Perhaps it wasn’t the best way to begin a childcare relationship.
‘Hello. Can I help you?’
The girl was thin and slight. He hated himself for noticing it, but she didn’t look like she came from an affluent family. Her earrings were bright and made from plastic, her clothes plain and cheap. Jack wasn’t a snob, but that’s what struck him about Maxine.
Her face lit up when she spoke and he cursed himself even more for being so appalling in his assessment of her.
‘Hi, I’m Maxine Sowerby. You wanted a babysitter?’
Her voice instantly revealed her bright and friendly personality.
Jack was caught off his guard. They’d put a phone number on the advert, why hadn’t she called instead of turning up on the doorstep? Upstairs Hamish was beginning to wail.
‘We were looking for a qualified childminder really.’
He heard Lucy cursing.
‘Coming, coming, you little ...’
She didn’t finish her sentence, but it didn’t take a genius to know where she’d been heading with that. They needed a babysitter.
‘I do lots of babysitting in the village,’ Maxine continued. ‘I’ve got three references with me.’
Jack opened the envelope she handed him. It contained two handwritten notes and one typed on a PC. Each one explained how kind, caring and patient Maxine was with children. He scanned phrases like the children love her and patient and reliable.
‘How old are you, Maxine?’ he asked.
‘Eighteen ... I’m going to university in January,’ she replied. ‘So you’ve only got me until then.’
‘That’s an odd time to go to university, isn’t it?’ Jack asked, intrigued.
‘Yes, I’m a second semester starter,’ she started to explain, ‘It’s a long story, but I have a lot of studying to do before I go.’
Jack invited her into the house. Things seemed a bit tense between mother and child upstairs, so he ushered her through to the kitchen.
Jack had already decided that Maxine would be fine, but he asked a few interview-like questions to let her know that he was no pushover. As they spoke, each could tell that they’d made a good connection and the conversation turned as if having Maxine as their babysitter was a fait accompli.
Then Lucy entered with Hamish, who was squirming in her arms, as if she wanted him to settle in a place that he didn’t belong. Maxine’s eyes lit up when she saw him, and the baby reached out towards her. It must have stung Lucy to see that. She handed him over, a forced smile hiding the pain she felt.
The girl was a natural. As Jack watched her gently bouncing the baby on her knee and talking to him as if they’d been best friends forever, he wondered why Lucy had found that so difficult. Wasn’t mother and child the most basic, primal relationship in the universe? So why did Lucy continue to struggle with it?
Lucy wasn’t prepared to make the decision there and then. She told Maxine they’d discuss it and get back to her. Jack guessed that part of it was pride. In spite of how much she was struggling, Lucy still needed to show that she was Hamish’s mother and she made the decisions about his welfare.
She went through the motions of asking after her in the village, but couldn’t find a scrap of evidence on which to base a rejection. It was true that Maxine’s father had never worked in his life, and the family lived in the only remaining social housing in the village that hadn’t been sold off to its tenants, but no one had a bad word to say about her. She had always been the odd one out. She loved her father, he wasn’t violent, but she aspired to something better in life. She was determined to get out of that village and create a better future for herself. The villagers gave her the encouragement and credit that she deserved for her youthful aspirations. When she minded their children, they’d sometimes slip her an extra fiver, telling her to add it to her university fund.
So, before long, Maxine was their babysitter. And even better, Lucy had accepted the help. It had eased the tension between her and Hamish and Jack felt better about leaving them in the week. Maxine was nice to have around too, she fitted in.
Which is why she felt so uncomfortable when Lucy lashed out at her. She’d never seen that side of her before. Lucy apologised, realising that she’d been too heavy-handed.
‘How about I run Maxine back home and you put the kettle on?’ Sophie asked. ‘If Maxine is taking the first shift with Hamish at the weekend, it makes sense if we chat beforehand. Is that okay, Lucy?’
Lucy was grateful for Sophie’s help. She’d been a right bitch. It was the only word she could find to describe her behaviour. She slipped Maxine an extra tenner, apologising again as she squeezed the note into her hand. She couldn’t really spare the money, but she needed to smooth things over.
Maxine said her goodbyes and she left the house with Sophie, as they’d agreed. Hamish was happily playing with a rattle on the rug.
Lucy thought about the older woman. What could she possibly want? She’d seemed nice enough. If she’d been driving down their lane, there was nowhere else to go, she knew that’s where Lucy lived.
Lucy thought it through. Maxine was adamant that she hadn’t called at the house. Was she checking out the property before putting in an offer? Had the woman intentionally run into Lucy in the cemetery with a view to getting more information about the house sale? Perhaps she was chasing a deal, seeing if she could place a stupid offer.
Lucy decided to check the phone to see if the estate agent had called with an update. Maxine was good like that, she always passed on messages but Lucy had barely given the poor girl a chance to draw breath before she’d started shouting at her.
The phone had a call log. There had been two calls while she’d been out. One was from Jack. He’d rung the house first and then caught her on her mobile while she’d been enjoying a coffee with Sophie. Nothing urgent, just quick call to say hello. And check up on her.
The second call was not a number that she recognised. It had an Aberdeen code, but it wasn’t Jack’s firm. She googled it, watching as Sophie drew up outside the house and walked up to the door. The Aberdeen phone number didn’t register as being a business or domestic line, it must be ex-directory.
Sophie stepped through the front door, which they’d left ajar.
‘Okay if I come in?’
Lucy beckoned her in, slamming down the lid of her laptop.
‘She’s a lovely girl that Maxine,’ Sophie said. ‘Very ambitious, she clearly wants to get out of this village. I guess there’s nothing here if you’re a young person.’
The falling out with Maxine was forgotten. Sophie was cooing over Hamish, Lucy was chatting away with her new friend, and the mystery phone call was forgotten.
It wasn’t until the day after the half-marathon that Lucy would get to stare into the cold eyes of the man who’d asked for that call to be made.
Jack headed straight back to the office after his amateur surveillance session in the sandwich shop. He wondered who Clive had been talking t
o. Perhaps the man had a different role at Pharmexus, a colleague on a fact-finding visit who’d arranged to meet for lunch in town. But why had the conversation looked so tempestuous?
He had never particularly liked Clive, but it was a mutually convenient alliance which served them both. If he would only cut the bullshit and level with people, he’d be a lot more bearable. However, one thing he could say about Clive was that he never got riled. He always had a smart-arse comment or a one-liner to defuse any tension. He enjoyed airing his sexist and homophobic views as well as the occasional ‘I’m not a racist, but…’ comment.
This older man had been the only person that had ever managed to fluster Clive, certainly in the time Jack had known him. He worried the issue for the rest of the week and resolved to mention it when he got an opportunity.
It was Thursday evening and Jack was relieved to be heading south again, albeit with Clive as a travelling companion. It was two days before the run. Sophie had met Hamish and Maxine, and he and Lucy were all set for an adult weekend away together. They needed this.
Jack was plying Clive with drink. The advantage of travelling First Class was the free booze. Clive always took a taxi from the station, so Jack had no qualms encouraging his travelling companion to drink up.
‘How are you looking forward to your child-minding duties on Saturday? Are you all prepared?’
‘Sophie can’t wait,’ Clive replied, taking a swig of beer. ‘She loves your little one. Got on really well with Lucy too. Reckon we’ve created a couple of new mates there.’
‘So you’re taking over from Maxine on Saturday morning, is that right? I know Lucy and Sophie have it all arranged between them, but I wasn’t really listening properly.’
‘Yes, they do witter on at times, don’t they?’
Dead of Night [Full Book] Page 5
