‘Do they phone you?’
‘Not much. I phone my mum on Mother’s Day and her birthday. She phones me at Christmas unless there’s something pressing in between. That’s about it. They chose each other. I chose Dan. It feels like us versus them.’
‘That’s so sad.’
‘What’s sadder is that I tell most people I meet that my parents are dead. It’s simpler than the truth. Imagine me explaining all this to the lads at work?’
‘No.’
‘Exactly. Second, I stay with Dan every other weekend and make sure he gets out to watch a game of footie or something. Big Man City fan. I take him to his counselling session. I cook for him and get a few decent meals inside him. I stock up his fridge and freezer. I sleep on his sofa for two nights, Friday and Saturday, so every other weekend I’m away and won’t be able to see you. But I’ll ring you, I promise.’
Naomi digested this information with mixed feelings. ‘I could come with you,’ she offered.
‘That’s the third thing,’ Nathan said, finally sitting up. ‘Much as I love Dan, he’s done a few really bad things and I don’t want you anywhere near him. I won’t be telling him about you, sadly.’ He took Naomi’s hand and stroked it, looking at her carefully. ‘The girl I was engaged to, Lucy, started coming to stay at Dan’s with me until it all went wrong. Dan convinced himself that she was his girlfriend, not mine.’ Nathan dropped his head. ‘It wasn’t his fault, but having Lucy around confused him. Obviously, Lucy was totally freaked out. The last time she came, he locked her in the bathroom with him and touched her up. He told her she might die if she left the house.’
In a sudden shift, the steady rain turned furious outside and thrashed noisily against the window. Naomi looked at the threatening grey sky that had descended and was breathing against the window. She returned her gaze to Nathan’s troubled eyes. ‘Is that why it didn’t work out?’
‘Yeah. Once she’d escaped his clutches, she told me we weren’t visiting him anymore because he was dangerous. She never really understood that it was an illness and that he would never be a danger to me. She gave me an ultimatum, her or Dan. My parents had just about abandoned him. How could I do the same?’
Naomi thought about it. ‘She shouldn’t have expected you to.’
‘Maybe. It wasn’t easy for her either. Dan’s a big part of my life. She wasn’t prepared to share me with him, so we broke up. I haven’t had a relationship since then.’ He dropped his head, shook it. ‘Do you know the really devastating part?’
‘What?’
‘Dan really missed her.’ His eyes filled again. ‘It was like she’d thrown him to one side too. He took it badly when I explained she wouldn’t be coming anymore. I blame myself for taking her with me in the first place.’
‘Was she really pretty?’ Naomi asked inappropriately, overcome by curiosity. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’ He paused. ‘Lucy was very pretty. But you’re beautiful.’ He took her hand. ‘Inside and out. I’m not a neat, tidy package, Naomi. There’s baggage. I knew it would take someone pretty special to tolerate me. So, I’m not presuming anything and I won’t blame you if you want to duck out.’ He drew a noisy breath. ‘The point is, I have to give you the chance of opting out right from the start.’
He was playing with her fingers and lifting them one by one.
‘I’m not going to bail on you. I want to be with you,’ she said.
Nathan dissolved into a smile, the first for a while. ‘Sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. It makes no difference.’
‘Phew! I was hoping you’d say that.’
‘But how are you going to leave him and go travelling?’
Nathan shifted position and they lay down side by side, hand in hand, fingers linked, eyes to the ceiling. ‘I’ve agonised about that and I’ve talked to him. In the end, Dan suggested it. It will only be for a few weeks. He understands. My mother’s going to have to take her turn properly while I’m away, isn’t she?’
Naomi didn’t answer. She was enjoying the heat of Nathan’s hand and his body so close.
‘So, I can finally answer your question now you know the background,’ Nathan said. ‘It took a long time, but I am over Lucy. That’s the honest truth. I agree with you, that anyone who tells me to give my brother the flick is not right for me. I hope you can see now why I hesitated about getting your number in that bar, and why I can handle your mum. At least she’s looking out for you. I can admire that. And I’m going to melt the ice with her, you’ll see.’
Naomi laughed and squeezed his hand. ‘Good luck with that.’
‘We’re being watched,’ Nathan said, looking at a corner of the ceiling. Naomi followed his gaze.
‘Meet Sydney,’ she said.
‘Sydney?’
‘Yeah, he’s been in here so long, it was rude not to give him a name.’
Nathan half sat up and looked down on Naomi. The pained expression he’d worn for an hour, had cleared. His face had brightened up. ‘I’ll tell you what was rude, your mum bursting in here earlier just when it was getting interesting.’
He closed the gap slowly. Naomi shut her eyes. Their lips had just made contact when Naomi’s phone started ringing. Nathan groaned.
‘That’ll be my mum.’
‘Are you going to get it?’
‘I’ll have to.’ Naomi pulled her phone from her pocket and stared at the screen. ‘Yep, as expected,’ she said.
‘The talk.’ Nathan stood up and straightened himself out. ‘OK, well I’d better get going before I don’t want to leave.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’m sorry I still haven’t heard you play the piano. Next time,’ he said, pointing a finger at her. The phone nagged relentlessly. Nathan picked up the black jumper Camilla had brought in earlier. ‘I’m going to dispose of this,’ he said. ‘Look at it as symbolic and don’t take any nonsense, OK? Make sure she knows who’s in charge of your life.’
Unable to ignore the phone any longer, Naomi answered it. ‘Hi, Mum.’ She stood and walked toward Nathan who was opening the door, ready to leave. He blew her a kiss just as Camilla sounded in her left ear.
‘Naomi? Finally! Has that dreadful salesman gone, or were you just busy in the bathroom again?’
10
CAPTIVITY
Three everlasting days had passed since the landlord’s visit. Naomi had held out in silence, determined to make the point that he could stuff his questions and answers for all she cared. She’d withdrawn inside herself to make her own plans.
His mask was coming in handy now she’d become desensitised to it. It robbed him of features and made him more of a thing than a person. Having tried at first to imagine the face behind it, she wasn’t even curious now. She refused to look into his eyes when he visited. Appealing to him was pointless. She preferred to think of him as nobody’s son, nobody’s friend, nobody’s concern.
She’d stopped trying to recall where she’d heard his voice. It didn’t matter. Maybe only one of them would leave this place alive. Either way, a confrontation seemed inevitable. It was war and the rules of war applied. While there was a pact of silence between them and he was just a food-deliverer that might be wearing the mask because his features were twisted like the Phantom at the West End, it was easier to dehumanise him into a kind of machine that had never known a family and wouldn’t be missed. So it was easier to construct a plan to destroy him.
It was Thursday now. Several times a day, Naomi reminded herself which day of the week it was, terrified of losing track. One day was the length of a week in her previous life. Time was getting the better of her and swallowing her up. She got lost in the folds and creases of endless days and nights now that every day was the same and every night was restless, and time had become meaningless and immeasurable.
All her life she’d taken the passing of time for granted. She’d never thought much about days and weeks and seasons and how each one was a slab of time that paved an easy
and varied path through life. And yet each sunrise was evidence enough that the world was still following a cycle, however much the wheel of life appeared to have slowed. Each hour meant wading through pointless existence and dealing with emotions better buried. The pace of her former life was a mystery to her now.
Being a prisoner like this was a form of robbery and torture, and even murder. While he hadn’t laid a finger on her so far, having ripped her from her life, he was slowly killing her. It was a painful death, made worse by the thought that the people she loved would be suffering too. Kill one person, you murder the whole family. If only she could tell them that she was still eating, still breathing, still hoping and praying she’d see them again. Mustn’t give up.
<><><>
Saturday. Another two days stretched then passed away without incident or words. Naomi had woken so early this particular morning that she’d watched the room take shape and the shadows slink away. She’d stood and walked to the window and carefully examined a dark sky stained with patches of deep violet and blue. Over the distant hill – only a black outline in the infant light – pinkish strips were breaking through the darkness, painting streaks of colour onto the horizon. A few birds had stuck around to celebrate the dawn. Morning hymns were being chirped worshipfully.
Naomi stood, listening, observing silently while the chains tugged against her wrists and the light strengthened outside and moved in, and the chorus swelled. Out of bed, her legs felt the chill of a clear September morning. She clambered into the jeans without turning her back on it. The moon was watching too, reluctant to bow out. A ghostly white mist smothered the fields between the house and the tallest hill, hiding the greenery. Still, the colours were compelling and beautiful. Delicate as they were, they had the power to move her to tears and fill her with a sense of awe.
The part of her that had started to rot through bitterness was cut away. It was bound to be temporary, but like an effective sedative it brought relief. She stood for a peaceful hour or so, feeling small beneath the gaze of nature, yet not insignificant. She had the clarity during that short time, to sense that she had not been forgotten. It was a feeling she couldn’t explain. Simply put, she sensed that even in her isolation, God was aware of her. She collected the teardrops and felt the desperate urge to clean herself up. She’d swallow her pride when the monster visited, and ask to use the shower. She’d break her silence today.
He came in twice a day with food. Past the stage of suspecting him of poisoning it, logic told her that if he’d wanted her dead, she’d be buried already. For days now, she’d eaten everything he brought and drunk at least four cups of water a day. And seeing as she was willingly eating, he was readily providing food and found no reason to talk to her. It was a mutually acknowledged silence.
That Saturday, he came as usual mid-morning with food. The smell of a full English breakfast had roused her taste buds for a while before he appeared with it. She could pick out the sausages and smoked bacon separately. Toast was on the menu too. As he walked towards her, bearing the usual array of red plastic, the sight of him stole the hope she’d felt that morning. The angelic glow burnt out. He’d robbed her once again.
The seeds of hatred took root quickly and germinated as he deposited the tray and lifted the contents onto the small table beside the bed. She depended on him to feed her like this and keep her alive. He could walk away at any time and leave her here to die. They both knew it. So was she grateful that he hadn’t abandoned her so far? Hardly! She looked at him like a man from a hospital bed might look at a wheelchair after a serious accident where he’d just been told he might never walk again, and that he may as well get used to operating the chair.
Naomi sat up as he removed the final thing from the tray, a cup of orange juice. She’d decided in advance what she would say to him, but found that releasing the words into the quiet room and the atmosphere he always dragged in with him which lodged between them, more difficult than she’d anticipated. He collected the tray and started to make his exit. Only the sight of his back in a checked shirt and black jeans clicked her tongue into gear.
Say it, don’t think. ‘I need a shower.’ Her voice sounded rusty after days of not speaking, but she’d carefully considered the wording and didn’t regret the words as she heard them out loud. They sounded as assertive as she’d hoped. She’d decided upon ‘need’ not ‘want’, reasoning that the simpler the sentence, the more likely he’d be to respond. She wouldn’t beg or bargain. The best thing, she thought, was just a straightforward, non-emotional request that would be easy for him to take in and therefore, more difficult to refuse. Robots could handle requests.
He turned, stood still, said nothing for a while. ‘You can wash in the sink,’ was his conclusion after some thought.
‘I have been washing in the sink, but it isn’t easy chained up. I can’t wash my hair.’ She held a section up. Her hair had lost its shine and now hung limply in ropey strips. ‘It’s dirty and I’m cold. I need to change out of this and put something warmer on.’ Naomi grabbed her nightshirt and pulled it away from herself to get the message across. ‘I can’t change the top half while I’m fastened up.’
He turned quiet and still again, digesting the words. She could hear him breathing behind the mask and wondered if it felt claustrophobic.
‘I’ll think about it,’ he said in his low snarl. Naomi, who’d braced herself for a refusal, didn’t argue.
He left and locked the door. Naomi’s pulse was pounding, but there was a sense of achievement – an unfamiliar feeling. She wanted a shower, but her priority was to plan an escape. She needed to examine the window and how far it would open and what lay beneath it. She would refuse to shower in front of him. Absolutely. So here she was, waiting again to see what he would offer.
He showered in a different bathroom and left the house in the car after breakfast and returned a long time later with more rustling bags. The hours passed more quickly than usual that day. She was surprised when she heard him clattering around in the kitchen preparing food again. She had no appetite. Her mind was too busy plotting; her thoughts were racing out of control.
Breakfast, she estimated, came between nine and ten o’clock every morning, and the second meal, between three and four. He only ever brought two meals a day, but the portions were generous enough to keep her going. It wasn’t like she was using much energy except in thinking.
She suspected he wanted to visit her as little as possible, so two big meals were better than three small ones. It was like he’d brought her here only to keep her alive and avoid her. It was bizarre and unfathomable. It had to be part of a wider plan she was terrified of learning anything about. Asking him for something extra, the use of the shower, had presented him with a problem.
The meal took an age to prepare. She couldn’t muster any interest in it while she was itching to be free. Naomi thought the clanging around in the kitchen would never end. Finally, the stairs creaked and he walked in with the fiery red tray, carrying what smelled like a roast dinner. It was. He deposited the contents onto the table beside the bed. Roast chicken and stuffing with a selection of veg. Cheesecake and cream. She was watching him. He didn’t return her gaze, but busied himself collecting the empty plate and cup from the morning. The effort put into preparing the food was the strangest thing. The meals were never thrown together or bought pre-packed, but carefully constructed by hand. Maybe he was bored too.
He straightened up and looked at her with his black woolly face that had no slots for breathing, but a lookout for each eye. She could see the blueness of his eyes that she’d avoided for days. His pupils dilated.
‘You can shower later. I got you a swimming costume.’
‘A costume?’ It could only mean one thing.
He didn’t reply. The silence grew. She needed to be confident. She untied her tongue as quickly as she could. ‘I refuse to shower in front of you,’ she said, heart plunging, plans washing up on a deserted shore.
‘Fine,�
� he said, heading for the door.
The panic fizzed inside her stomach. ‘Wait. Can’t we just talk about this?’
He stopped, turned. ‘You want a shower. I’ve agreed on one condition. The terms are non-negotiable.’
He wasn’t walking away. He was looking at her, waiting for a decision.
‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked. ‘What’s the point? How’s it going to end?’
‘Don’t know yet.’
Don’t know? She glared at him, confused. ‘What don’t you know? What you’re doing, why, or how it will end?’
‘All three.’
Naomi was aware that her feelings were being exposed all over her face as he looked steadily at her from behind his screen. She didn’t know what to say, but she detected the impatience in his tone as he spoke again. ‘Three seconds to decide.’
‘OK, OK,’ she said. ‘Give me the swimming costume.’
‘Later. Need to eat.’
He turned and left the room and locked it up. Need to eat. Naomi had never imagined him eating too. So that’s why he makes an effort.
As she shuffled across the bed and lifted the red plate on top of her legs, for the first time she was aware of him eating simultaneously right beneath her somewhere. She didn’t like to think of the monster in terms of needing food like normal people. She hadn’t realised they shared mealtimes or ate the same things. The thought didn’t sit comfortably.
Her head was preoccupied as she shovelled in the food and chewed and swallowed it mindlessly. She thought of him removing his mask and doing the same thing, and barely tasted any of it. She looked at the cheesecake and decided she didn’t want it. Yet.
With thoughts of him returning, she turned restless. She crawled across the bed in the direction of the wardrobe and stood up. The wardrobe was within reach, just. She suspected, like the bed, it had been moved. She opened the wardrobe door and grabbed clean underwear and the fleece top. She sat stiffly on the bed clutching them to her, listening to the noises downstairs. He was running water, clearing up from the sound of things. Eventually, pots stopped rattling, cupboards stopped opening and closing, everything went quiet. He didn’t come upstairs. She heard him speaking to someone on his phone and wondered what he was planning. She couldn’t make out words.
Either Side of Midnight (The Midnight Saga Book 1) Page 12
