The Hidden Girl

by Louise Millar

  Her jaw ached, and there was a metallic taste of blood in her mouth. She groaned and tried to move.

  They were taking her somewhere, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t the train station. She tried in vain to remember her kidnap training, but it was a desperate thought, and she knew it. This was not a kidnap.

  This was not part of a training course, with a chance of a good outcome if she did the right thing. This was an act of madness, perpetrated by desperate people. The punch had told her that.

  The stink of diesel entered her nose now, and the ground below her moved. Then she knew where she was.

  Dax’s truck.

  There was a screech and it raced along, making her head bang in hard little bounces on the metal truckbed. A foot pressed down hard on her back, expelling the air from her lungs.

  Will appeared in her mind.

  Tears started to fall down her cheeks. Her head ached. She wanted Will.

  He hadn’t believed her. If something happened to her and he found out the truth, he would never forgive himself. He would find that message on her laptop and know he’d let her down. And, because of that, this had happened to her.

  Her tears mixed with sweat inside the suffocating hood.

  The truck bumped and banged over the ground, then she felt a kick below her as it jumped, and knew where she was.

  She could hear the sea.

  The truck swerved, and she banged into the side as it hit the shingle below.

  There was another vehicle behind. Then a screech of wheels on loose stones, a skid and a stop. Engines cutting out.

  Metal chinked, then hands were wrenching her from the truck and carrying her like a sack.

  A door slammed. A stink of hot iron.

  Samuel’s shack.

  She was thrown onto the floor on her front.

  Hannah lay on her stomach, motionless, too scared to move.

  No, this was not a kidnap or abduction. She could tell by their voices.

  Dax, Carol and Madeleine were barking commands at the others. Tiggy was sniffing and Frank kept coughing, as if trying to clear his throat.

  She could smell someone’s nervous sweat as they leant down and roughly tugged at her hands. Something was pushed in between them, shooting pain up her wrists and arms, then they were tugged to the left.

  ‘Right, ten o’clock, meet back here. Bill, watch her. Samuel? Samuel! Look at me. You watch her, too. Do what Bill tells you.’

  Hannah heard a chair being kicked, and flinched. Dax was yelling now.

  ‘Samuel! Listen to me. You WATCH her, when Bill gets the boat ready. And don’t speak to her. Everyone else – move it! Carol – me and you will go over to the Fox, with Mum and Craig. Tig, you and Frank go late-night shopping in Thurrup. Make sure you buy something on a credit card. When’s that taxi coming, Carol?’

  ‘Half an hour.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Hannah heard Tiggy wail, hysteria in her voice. ‘Why are you ordering a taxi, Dax? What’s happening?’

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ Dax yelled. ‘Will you shut her up, Frank?’

  ‘Tig,’ Carol said. ‘Look at me. She won’t be there, will she? The driver goes back to Thurrup and then tomorrow, when nobody can find her, they’ll finger ’im.’

  ‘That’s a point. You got her phone, Carol?’ Dax said. ‘Wipe it, then chuck it in a field out by Snadesdon. Ring 999 on it or summat, then turn it off. They’ll think he took her out there.’

  Sweat trickled down inside the hood. Hannah tried to shake it away, but it ran into her eyes, making her blink. Dax’s voice faded, as if he’d moved away. ‘Tig, Frank, sort yourselves out. I’m not saying it again. You’re in this, same as the rest of us. Too late for whining now.’

  Then there was a creak of floorboards. Stale cigarette breath blasted through the hood. She flinched, but there was nowhere to go.

  Dax’s voice appeared right in her ear. ‘You’ve seen Samuel’s soldering iron. Lie there quiet, or him and Bill will take your eye out.’

  She bit back a sob.

  The doors crashed, and the voices stopped.

  Hannah didn’t move.

  She tried to hear where Samuel and Bill were – anticipating a burn on her body at any time.

  She heard murmuring, doors bashing. Somebody moving something behind her head, and a diesel smell that made her push herself inches closer to the wall, terrified.

  Then, gradually, her pulse started to slow. Nothing was happening. Not yet.

  ‘Right, I’ll be at the boat. Keep her there,’ Bill said.

  The door slammed again. Bill had said he was going to a boat. A boat for her?

  A new dread filled Hannah. She could hear Samuel working at the bench, mumbling to himself. Did he even know she was here?

  Even though her head was dizzy, she told herself she had to take a risk. This could be her only chance, while Bill was out of the shack.

  ‘Samuel,’ she tried quietly, ‘I have a little girl. I need to get home for her.’

  Metal clanked and then hissed.

  ‘Samuel?’

  She couldn’t move her hands. Dax had tied them to something. So instead she pressed her forehead on the ground and tried to drag the hood off her face. It came in three moves, almost all the way to her eyes.

  There was a scrape and she tried to turn her head.

  Samuel stood above her with a chisel, staring down through milky eyes.

  ‘No!’ she shouted, flinching.

  ‘Who are you?’ he said.

  ‘Hannah,’ she replied, terrified.

  Samuel glazed over again. He walked back to the bench and continued with his soldering.

  At least she could see something now, even if she was still trussed like an animal. She tried to move and couldn’t and, strangely, felt ashamed.

  ‘Samuel,’ she called into the floor. ‘What are they going to do to me?’

  A clink and a hiss. ‘Put ya down.’

  She thought she’d misheard him. The words entered her head one by one. ‘Put’, ‘you’, ‘down’. A chill ran through her as she connected them.

  ‘Put me down? Like an animal. What do you mean?’

  ‘Drown ya. With Bill’s boat. That’s what they do.’

  Hannah struggled to find words. ‘Who do they do it to, Samuel?’

  ‘The farm girls,’ Samuel said. ‘When they’re old and sick.’

  Hannah stared. ‘Farm girls. You mean Mabel. Mabel, and her daughter, C.V.?’

  She was starting to feel nauseous, and tried to move her stomach off the floor.

  ‘That’s right. L.V. too now, when they get her. They told her to be quiet when you lot come, and she wasn’t. Dax said it wouldn’t work.’

  Dax and Madeleine were hunting Elvie now, too?

  ‘Samuel. Why do L.V. and C.V. just have initials, and not names?’ she said, looking around for anything to help her. On the floor was an iron bar. If she could untie her hands and—

  Something banged down on a table beside her, making her jerk away. ‘Don’t need them.’

  ‘Why?’

  Samuel’s head came down close to hers again. She felt his spittle fly onto her cheek. His rheumy eyes were staring, trying to make sense of his confused mind.

  ‘Got no use, but do stuff. Work on the farm. Don’t give cows names, do thee?’

  Samuel went back to his soldering.

  Hannah lay in shock, trying to understand. What was he saying? That Dax and Madeleine had killed Mabel and her daughter, C.V. – or let them die, at least, because they’d become old and sick – then put their bodies in the sea?

  From the sound of it, they were now hunting Mabel’s granddaughter, Elvie, too. Destroying the evidence, perhaps, now that outsiders had come to the village and realized that something strange had been going on there.

  And she – because she couldn’t keep her nose out of other people’s business – had got in the way.

  Hannah lay on the floor, the horror of it washing through her:
she, too, was going to die.

  Her eyes desperately roamed the dirty shack, with its clumps of mud and oil, the iron bar too far out of reach. Was this the last thing she would see, before they came to get her?

  She thought again of the unsent email on her laptop, and wondered if Dax had found and stolen the computer. If he had, nobody would ever know the truth.

  She thought about the report in the newspaper about Mabel Vyne. Police are searching for Hannah Riley, 36, a charity publicist who disappeared on Tuesday evening in Suffolk. A taxi driver from Thurrup is currently being questioned.

  Her parents and Will would spend the rest of their lives wondering what had happened to her.

  The grief and the pain and the dizziness threatened to send her into hysteria, and she knew she had to stop it.

  Bill was still outside on the beach. She had to persuade Samuel to let her go. He was so confused that she might have a chance.

  As she tried to think how to make him listen to her, she felt a quiver in the floor under her body. An aftershock of movement – once, then again, but stronger. The third time it was a palpable thump under the floor.

  Behind her, Hannah heard the door crash open.

  ‘No,’ she whispered.

  It was too late. Bill was back. Or, worse, Dax.

  She shut her eyes helplessly, waiting for a blow. But instead she heard a grunt. Then a sour smell filled her nostrils.

  She tried to turn her head, and saw feet in their big boots. Dirty, leathery hands shot out, and then her own hands were being pulled.

  ‘Elvie?’

  Pain shot up her arm. There was another twist and then, to her astonishment, her hands fell free behind her back. She tried to get up on her knees, but the huge hands were round her, lifting her right up.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, staggering to her feet.

  Elvie was filthy. Her hair was matted, and on her face was that same expression of fury. Hannah realized that Elvie was glaring at Samuel, who sat at his bench looking confused.

  ‘Oh God – no, Elvie,’ Hannah said.

  But it was too late. Elvie flew at Samuel so fast that he didn’t even flinch. She punched the old man on the jaw. He fell to the floor, and she picked up a chair.

  ‘No!’ Hannah shouted. ‘Put it down, Elvie.’

  Elvie dropped it. Her hands shot out and grabbed Hannah. Before she could speak again, Elvie half-lifted, half-dragged her out through the door of the shack into the dark, and then into the long grass.

  There was a distant yell through the wind from down at the shore.

  Bill had seen them.

  ‘Run, Elvie!’ Hannah shouted.

  Hannah was so sore, frightened and disorientated that she had no idea where they were going. She just knew that it would be seconds before Bill rang Dax and he’d be on his way back from Snadesdon. They had to disappear into the dark and hide.

  It was only when Hannah saw the marsh under the moonlight that she realized Elvie was taking them home.

  ‘No!’ Hannah called, twisting away. ‘No, Elvie! We need to go to the main road and get help. The other way.’

  But Elvie was having none of it. She practically lifted Hannah off the ground, under her arm, and pulled her on. Her strength was unbelievable.

  ‘No, please! We need to stay and hide behind the hedges, and then find our way to Snadesdon.’

  Elvie ignored her. She pulled and yanked Hannah, until she gave up and ran with her, her feet skipping along the ground.

  Halfway down the track Elvie pulled her unexpectedly into the marsh and they crossed through the long grass. Soon Hannah saw where they were. It was a shortcut. They were almost back at Tornley Hall.

  Hannah grabbed a branch and tried to hold on. ‘No, Elvie, please! Listen to me. We can’t go in there, Dax is going to—’

  It was too late.

  As they reached the end of Tornley Hall’s driveway the sound of engines appeared in the distance.

  ‘Shit! That’s him coming back. We have to hide.’

  But Elvie dragged her on. She pulled Hannah up the driveway and in through the front door, which still lay open. The lights of three vehicles shone through the hedges as they came round the bend. Desperate, Hannah kicked out. Elvie was going to get them killed.

  ‘No, Elvie. We need the phone!’

  Hannah tried to shut and lock the front door, but Elvie kept dragging her into the kitchen.

  ‘No, stop it – they’ll find us in here and …’

  Elvie pulled Hannah into the scullery. What was she doing? They were going to be trapped!

  The giant woman grabbed the fridge and started to pull. It moved with a screech across the floor. Elvie grabbed Hannah and pushed her down the side of it. To her surprise, Hannah flew through an opening into a dark space. Elvie came behind her and, grabbing the electric elements at the back of the fridge, pulled it back into place.

  Hannah held the wall, her chest heaving, trying to catch her breath as silently as she could.

  Where the hell were they?

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  From the vehicle sounds outside, the people in the cars were definitely here to find them. Doors slammed, and there was shouting. Engines restarted, and cars drove off.

  Behind her, Hannah felt Elvie bend over. There was a click and a torch came on.

  She peered, bewildered. They were in a small room with no windows. Pressing into her leg was a Victorian toilet covered in blue flowers.

  There were blankets on the tiled floor, and food scattered around. The missing photo albums lay in the corner.

  Elvie’s hiding place.

  Elvie went to the doorway, which was now blocked by the fridge, and turned off the torch.

  A tiny slice of light appeared on the wall to the right. There was a crack. A piece of brick was missing, Hannah guessed, under one of the scullery shelves.

  Elvie stood back to let her see.

  Stunned, Hannah saw Dax on the other side of the wall. He’d put the electricity back on.

  ‘Where the fuck are they?’ Carol was yelling in the kitchen. ‘What if they’re on the Snadesdon road?’

  Dax shook his head. ‘Nah. Elvie’s never been out of the bloody village. Not in forty years. You’d have to sedate that fat cow to move her. She’s ’ere.’

  He turned back to Carol. This close up, Hannah saw that his face was murderous.

  ‘Bill’s on the marsh with Craig. Tig and Frank are looking next door. We’ll find ’em. Tonight, or tomorrow. Don’t matter. Elvie won’t leave.’

  Hannah turned. Elvie had sat, motionless, on the toilet seat.

  Doors slammed around the house.

  Frank and Tiggy appeared in the kitchen, now even more agitated than before. ‘They’re not next door.’

  Tiggy’s hands swatted an invisible battalion of wasps. ‘You have to find them, Dax. Or they’ll know. They’ll find out. About everything!’

  ‘Oh, shut up, Tig! Always the same with you. Fine when it suits you having them working your bloody flowers all hours, while you’re swanning off to Spain, and then shouting your mouth off when it doesn’t.’

  Tiggy’s face was puce, her voice hysterical. ‘Oh, don’t you blame me, Dax. It was like this when we got here. Olive and Peter started it, long before we were here … Do you remember?’ Frank tried to calm her, but she pulled away. ‘No, Frank! I told you all to get a doctor for Mabel, and for C.V. I was never happy letting those poor women pass away like that. I was never happy using those girls. Never. You just go too far, Dax. And I told you – I TOLD you – about storing that damn stolen farm machinery in here. Poor Frank, having to offer to cut that bloody grass every time the estate agent did a viewing, just to give you time to get it out. Ten times it must have happened. He nearly burst a blood vessel. I warned you that you’d get caught. I told you outsiders were on their way. I told you people would ask questions.’ She put her fists to her face and groaned. ‘And now – Hannah! We won’t get away with it. We won’t, Frank.’ Frank
patted her back.

  There was a sound outside. Another car was drawing up outside. Hannah saw them all glance nervously at the front door.

  ‘The taxi!’ Carol hissed.

  ‘Fuck!’ Dax grunted. ‘Get rid of ’im. Say you’re her, and you’ve changed your mind.’

  Tiggy squealed and ran out the back door, followed by Frank. Hannah watched as Dax stomped out of the kitchen.

  The taxi.

  Hannah turned in the dark and whispered, ‘Elvie, the taxi’s here. That’s our chance. We have to go …’

  Elvie shook her head.

  ‘Please?’

  Hannah knelt down and took Elvie’s hands. ‘Elvie, it’s OK. Come on, I’ll be with you.’

  There was a look of complete terror on the woman’s face. ‘Not allowed to go Ipswich.’

  ‘Elvie, that’s not true. You can go there. I’ll look after you.’

  Elvie stood up, checked the crack and pushed the fridge quietly. She disappeared and the light turned off in the scullery. A second later a long arm came back into the dark and pulled Hannah out.

  The scullery window was open.

  Elvie pointed to the sink and Hannah knelt on the worktop, holding her shoulder. She turned sideways through the gap, rested her foot on the windowsill, then jumped down onto the bench.

  ‘Come on,’ she whispered.

  But Elvie shook her head through the window.

  ‘Please, Elvie – quick!’

  There was a sadness in Elvie’s eyes.

  She couldn’t leave, Hannah realized with a jolt. She didn’t know how.

  ‘OK, I’ll come back for you,’ she whispered. ‘Hide!’

  Then she ducked down and crawled to the side of the alcove.

  The taxi was parked, lights blazing, by the trees.

  She heard voices at the front door. Carol was saying it had been a mistake, and the driver was arguing, saying that she’d need to pay anyway. Carol was shouting in her grating voice for someone to fetch some money from inside.

  It was now or never.

  Hannah moved on her hands and knees through the flower beds until she reached the sitting-room window. She poked her head round it and saw Carol furiously counting money.