by Tom Bale
By then Renshaw was moving, in a fast scuttling action, crouching below the line of the fence. Alice followed, taking careful strides to avoid the patches of gravel. At the end of the garden there was a waist-high wall with a wooden trellis mounted on top. Thankfully, the railway sleepers formed a step, and the top of the wall looked wide enough to stand on while they climbed over the trellis.
The only drawback was that they would be visible to anyone looking out of Renshaw’s windows. That was where the booby trap had come in, she realised. To divert attention.
Renshaw had charged the wall with too much momentum. He grabbed the trellis to keep from falling backwards, but it wasn’t strong enough to take his weight. Alice saw him teetering and managed to brace him, buying a vital second in which he grabbed a post and regained his balance.
Alice hurried after him, faster and more agile, but hampered by the baby carrier. The knowledge that the gang had guns was never far from her mind. From one of the back bedrooms it would be like shooting tin cans at a fairground.
Lifting her leg over the trellis, she felt a sudden cold sensation along her spine. She glanced back at Renshaw’s house and caught a man staring at her from an upper window, just as she’d feared. For a moment he looked bewildered; then he shouted something and disappeared.
‘They’ve seen us,’ she cried.
‘Hurry, then.’ A note of distress in Renshaw’s voice. He’d snagged his trousers on a nail, and had to wrench himself free before dropping into the alley.
Alice had to jump while trying to hold Evie steady. She landed inelegantly, falling to her knees on the narrow weed-strewn path. She felt a sharp pain as one hand slapped against the ground. A sliver of glass had embedded itself in her palm.
‘This way.’ Renshaw gestured in the direction of Port Hall Road. They ran in single file, Renshaw taking the lead, Alice desperately soothing Evie and trying to ignore the throbbing in her hand.
At the end of the alley Renshaw checked the way was clear, while Alice looked behind them. There was no one on the path, but she thought she could hear voices and movement from one of the gardens.
Renshaw made for an old Seat Ibiza parked a few yards away. Alice dimly recalled having noticed it before; a permanent fixture in the street.
‘Will it start?’
‘Yes, it will start.’ He shrugged off the rucksack and slung it on to the back seat. ‘Get in.’
Alice gripped the handle of the passenger door, then hesitated for a moment. She didn’t have to obey him. Renshaw would probably drive off without another thought for her safety. And yet, strangely, it was his indifference to her fate that made the decision for her.
The men chasing them would be here within seconds. On foot, Alice could never escape.
It was Renshaw who had put her in this danger. Now he had to get her out.
Twenty-Four
Harry sprinted to the railings and scanned the esplanade. No sign of Ruth among the pedestrians strolling back and forth below him, but by now she was probably hidden from view by the i360 site. Then some instinct caused him to look in the opposite direction, and he spotted her walking briskly towards Brighton pier. She must have doubled back once he was out of sight.
Dashing for the ramp, he started to feel foolish. Wasn’t this a silly overreaction, going into panic mode because of one missed call?
He was closing the distance when Ruth turned and gazed straight at him: a brief, unsettling act of telepathy.
‘Harry?’
‘I just tried to phone Alice. There was no answer, but it didn’t go to voicemail. It’s like she cut the connection, or someone did—’
She raised her hand. ‘Calm, Harry.’
‘Look …’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry. I probably should have mentioned this sooner, but there was a parcel.’
He quickly relayed Alice’s account of an elderly man collecting what had appeared to be an innocently misdirected delivery. Ruth shook her head, as if sorely disappointed. ‘I wish you’d said.’
‘But I only found about it last night. And after those cops came round I wasn’t sure who I could trust.’
She considered this, blinked slowly a couple of times, then said, ‘Okay. I can see that.’
He called Alice’s number three times, with no success. On the third attempt he left a message: ‘Alice, can you ring me when you get this? Straight away, please. I need to know you’re all right.’
‘Maybe you just caught her at a bad time,’ Ruth offered, but her expression was almost as tense as his own.
‘I hope that’s all it is. What do you think?’
‘I think you need to get home, to be sure.’ Ruth was already turning back the way she’d come. ‘We’ll take my car. Come on.’
The Seat was moving almost before Alice had shut her door. She clung to the seatbelt as the car lurched out of the parking space.
Renshaw’s attention was focused on his mirrors rather than on the road ahead, so he didn’t react when a lorry nosed out of a turning to his left. Alice’s scream came just in time, causing him to jerk the wheel and avoid a collision.
He braked sharply at the approach to Dyke Road. As the car came to a halt Alice wrestled the belt buckle into its clasp, adjusting the strap so it went to one side of the baby carrier. It shocked her that she could even think of transporting Evie like this, flouting the law and taking a dreadful risk, but it was only because the alternative was so much worse.
Mercifully there was a gap in the traffic, so Renshaw was able to turn right without a delay. Just ahead, the pedestrian lights by the cafe were changing to red. He stamped on the accelerator and sped through them. Checked the mirror again, and let out a grateful sigh.
‘Where are we going?’ Alice asked.
‘Just away from here. That is what matters for now, yes?’
She said nothing. At the junction with The Upper Drive the road was empty and the lights were green. Alice let out a sigh. She inspected her hand, plucked out the fragment of glass and found a tissue in her pocket to stem the bleeding. She felt she could think clearly now, for the first time since she’d been dragged into Renshaw’s house.
‘If you can drop me off near the top of Dyke Road, I’ll walk to Hove Park and get a bus.’
‘And then where? You cannot go home.’
‘I’ve got friends, family—’
‘And you know for sure that you will be safe?’ Before she could object, he added: ‘They saw you, remember, climbing over the fence with me. Their next step will be to search your home, as well as mine. If you have an address book, they will find it. They will be looking for you now. To lead them to me.’
‘But I’ve got nothing to do with this …’ She tailed off, recognising the absurdity of her statement. ‘And there’s Evie. She has to be fed, and changed, and I don’t have—’
‘This is far from perfect,’ he said irritably. ‘But I will try to find a solution.’
A moment later he swore. There was a line of about a dozen cars waiting to enter the roundabout at the top of Dyke Road. Alice felt a spasm of panic. There were no other junctions, nowhere they could turn off the main road.
Sitting ducks.
She reacted without thinking, throwing open the door while simultaneously releasing the seatbelt. Renshaw clawed at her, pulling at one of the carrier straps as Alice struggled to climb out of the car. Whether deliberately or not, he feathered the accelerator and the car rolled forward, almost bringing her down as she broke free of his grasp.
Stumbling, she made it to the pavement and straightened up. Evie was wailing so loudly that it drowned out Renshaw’s protests. In the car behind, a middle-aged man was gaping at her, open-mouthed. Should she ask another motorist for help? Beg someone to give her a lift?
The sound of car horns from further down the hill caught her attention. She moved closer to the road and saw two cars driving aggressively, leapfrogging the slower traffic and accelerating fast towards them.
The queue for the
roundabout began to move. Renshaw’s car jerked forward, causing the passenger door to swing shut. The car behind followed, the driver now studiously ignoring Alice. Whatever was going on, he wanted no part of it. That small act brought home to her how vulnerable she was.
‘Wait!’
She ran to catch up with the Seat. Renshaw only slowed when the traffic came to a halt. Once again his indifference was oddly reassuring; she had little to fear from him, whereas there were very good reasons to be afraid of the people chasing them.
She opened the door and dropped into the seat. Renshaw winced at the sound of Evie crying.
‘Mad woman! What did I tell you?’
‘All right. Just go. They’re only a few seconds away.’
‘Then keep the baby quiet. I must concentrate.’
Doing her best to calm her daughter, Alice fastened the seatbelt and grabbed the door handle as Renshaw pulled on to the roundabout without any regard for the traffic coming from his right. Somehow he managed to weave between a lorry and two other cars, sped across the road bridge and took a right at the smaller roundabout on to the eastbound carriageway of the A27.
Now they had a chance, Alice thought, keeping a close eye on the wing mirror. With any luck their pursuers would assume they’d gone left, on the westbound route.
As the familiar landscape slipped past – the playing fields of Waterhall, nestled within the dramatic sweep of hills that led to Devil’s Dyke – she felt a stab of self-loathing. This is all my fault. I didn’t have to take that second parcel across the road. Now I’m getting what I deserve …
But Evie shouldn’t have to suffer for her mother’s stupidity. Neither should Harry.
‘I need to call my husband.’
Renshaw nodded. ‘Of course. Later.’
‘Why later? If it’s not safe at the house, I’ve got to warn him.’
Silence. Alice twisted round in her seat, preparing for a confrontation. It dimly registered that Renshaw was still on the slip road, which would take them north on to the A23.
‘Give me my phone, please.’
‘I cannot have you call the police.’
‘I won’t. Just one quick call to my husband.’ She paused. ‘If I don’t get in touch he’s bound to go to the police. And he knows about the parcel – he can tell them enough to cause problems for you.’
Renshaw fumed. ‘You are an obstinate woman.’ But his hand was moving towards his pocket.
Ruth’s car was a brand new Vauxhall Corsa. A hire car, she explained: something else she varied, for the sake of anonymity.
It took a few minutes to exit the car park beneath the town hall. Harry was frantic by the time they turned into West Street. Although his home was only about a mile away, all the city centre routes were choked with traffic.
‘Maybe I should call the police?’ he said, as they endured an interminable wait at the lights outside Waterstones.
‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t. But I can’t ask you not to.’
Harry was turning his phone over in his hand, trying to work out what he’d say.
‘There’s still a chance it’s something mundane,’ Ruth said. ‘Could be her phone’s out of battery.’
‘It shouldn’t be. She charges it every night.’
‘Okay. Then go ahead, if you feel that’s best.’
He nodded. Swiped to unlock the phone, and as he did the display lit up and he saw the magic words: Alice calling.
‘It’s her!’ He connected, realising how close he’d come to making a fool of himself. ‘Hi, darl—’
‘Harry, listen. I can’t explain it all now but something else has happened. Those people are still here. It’s not safe to come home tonight.’
‘What do you mean? Where are you? Is Evie all right?’
‘We’re both fine.’ A little catch in her voice gave the lie to that assurance. And Evie was moaning in the background, a wretched sound that tore at his heart.
‘Where are you? At home?’
‘No. But we’re safe, honestly.’
He caught a worried glance from Ruth, then had a terrible thought. Lowering his voice, he said, ‘Are you being coerced?’
‘No, it’s not that.’ She was crying openly now. ‘I’m sorry. This is all my fault.’
‘Please, just tell me where you are.’
‘On the A23.’ There was a pause, a heavy sigh. ‘I’m with Renshaw.’
‘With Renshaw? Why? I mean …’
‘There was another package. I took it to number 43. I thought it was safe, but they saw me. We only just got away.’
Ruth was leaning at an odd angle, trying to listen in. She tapped his leg. ‘Find out their destination, and whether she trusts him.’
‘Alice, is this definitely okay?’
‘Who’s with you?’ Alice cut in. ‘I heard a woman’s voice. Have you told someone about this?’
‘No. It’s not—’
‘Who is it, Harry?’
He glanced at Ruth, who gave an apologetic shrug. ‘Just … someone who knows about this. Someone who can help us. I was going to tell you tonight …’
He tailed off as they reached Seven Dials. It was a complex junction, and Ruth needed to know which exit to take.
Alice, with an angry sob, said, ‘Is this because I didn’t come clean about the parcel?’
‘No, of course it isn’t.’
‘How do you know you can trust her, Harry? For God’s sake, she could be working for them.’
‘Look, you have to forget that and tell me where you are, where you’re go—’
It was no use. The line had gone dead.
He’d lost her.
Twenty-Five
Renshaw made a couple of attempts to seize the phone while she was speaking, but each time Alice twisted away from him. More worrying was how the car veered dangerously whenever he took his hand off the wheel.
In the end she gave in, cut the connection and let him take the phone. She saw him trying to switch it off, but said nothing. In that moment he could have thrown it out of the window and she wouldn’t have cared. She felt numb. Sickened.
‘What is this?’ Renshaw muttered crossly, pushing the car to seventy, then eighty miles an hour, carving a track into the outside lane of the A23. ‘Who is with him?’
‘A woman,’ Alice sighed. She didn’t want to believe that Harry had been conned by a member of the gang, but she hated herself for the other possibility that slipped into her head: He has a lover. Because you got fat, you’re always tired, you’re no fun—
‘Working for them, that’s what you said?’
‘I don’t know that for sure. I just wanted to remind him to be careful.’
‘But this woman, she is a stranger?’
‘I didn’t recognise her voice.’ Alice shut her eyes for a second. She’d barely heard the woman, but if it was someone they knew, Harry would have identified her, wouldn’t he?
Not if it’s his lover. Molly from the office, with the sexy gap between her front teeth and a bum like a pair of apples.
‘Oh God, this is such a mess. It can’t be happening.’ Wearily she scrubbed at her face with both hands, then let out a slightly manic laugh. ‘Is it happening, or am I going to wake up soon?’
Renshaw only grunted, as if such a stupid question didn’t warrant an answer.
‘Where are we going, anyway?’
‘Better that I do not say.’
This fired her up again. ‘No way! I bloody well want to know, otherwise—’
‘Otherwise what? You will throw yourself from the car again?’ He jiggled the wheel, a malicious reminder of the speed they were doing. Then he shook his head. ‘I joke with you, yes? Right now I have no answer. I have to think of somewhere safe. Until then we just drive.’
Harry stared at his phone in horror. For a second or two he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. His wife and daughter were in a car with Renshaw?
He redialled but there was no answer. Was Renshaw refusin
g to let her take the call? Or had Alice decided that she couldn’t trust him?
He thumped his leg. ‘Fuck!’
‘I’m sorry,’ Ruth said. ‘I shouldn’t have butted in.’
Harry said nothing, still trying to make sense of this development. A moment later Ruth pulled into a lay-by outside a parade of shops at Seven Dials. She kept the engine running, but turned to face him.
‘Did I hear that your wife’s with Renshaw, and they’re running from the gang?’
‘Looks like it.’ Conscious of what else Ruth might have overheard, Harry was reluctant to say any more. But Ruth read his hesitation correctly.
‘And now she’s got you doubting me again. How do I know you’re not the enemy? That’s what you’re thinking.’
‘Well, it’s not impossible, is it?’
‘No, it’s not impossible, Harry.’ She gave him a quick, humourless smile, making him feel like a child, trying to justify some ridiculous notion to a grown-up. ‘Why didn’t you tell your wife about me?’
‘I’d intended to. But then I got home to find those detectives at the house. Afterwards I was so worried about who to trust … I didn’t want to add to her stress.’
Ruth nodded. ‘Fine, but it’s no wonder she freaked out.’
‘And now I have no idea where she is. That’s what really matters.’
There was a lot of emotion in his voice. Ruth reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.
‘Back there on the beach, you made a decision to trust me. And that’s a smart decision, Harry. The right decision. Okay?’
‘Perhaps it is, but what are we going to do? If I call the police I can’t even tell them what make of car she’s in.’ He sighed. ‘This is all because we didn’t report the break-in when it happened.’
‘You had good reasons not to, and reporting it might have got you in even bigger trouble. You can’t change the past, so focus on now. The important thing is that they got away from Laird’s people.’
As far as we know, Harry thought. ‘But what should I do? She said it’s not safe to go home.’
