Keep You Safe

by Rona Halsall

  ‘It’s a really big house. Let me find you pictures.’ Katya pulled an envelope out of her bra, tipped out the photos and sifted through. She waved one in front of Natalie until she took it. ‘See, it’s massive.’

  Natalie studied the sprawling white villa, designed in a U shape. The middle section, which she presumed housed the living room, was glass-fronted, opening out on to a huge limestone patio, set with palm trees in enormous planters. Beech trees shaded each wing of the house and mature gardens tumbled in colourful terraces into the distance. Genteel and serene, it oozed class and Natalie wondered again what Katya’s story was. It was a subject she couldn’t broach, a mystery that couldn’t be solved by questions, because questions made Katya get up and leave.

  ‘That’s very kind of you, Kat, but I need somewhere my son can live too.’ Whatever her solicitor said about jurisdictions, she was going to find a way to get him back.

  ‘No problem. No problem at all. We love children.’

  We? Now that was curious. Katya had never mentioned a partner. ‘Who’s we?’

  ‘My family, of course. I live with my brother, Lech.’ She smiled at Natalie, eyes shining. ‘You’ll like him. Tall and handsome. And he works out.’ She held up her arms, flexed her biceps like a body builder and started doing a routine to show off different muscle groups. Natalie felt a smile twitch the corner of her mouth, a bead of hope swelling inside her. Is Katya giving me a solution, a new start?

  Katya sifted through her photos and handed one to Natalie. It was a picture of a huge man, standing next to a younger Katya, with his arm round her shoulders. There was something about the look in his eyes, the set of his face, that made the hairs on Natalie’s neck stand up. What if I don’t like him? Or he doesn’t like me? She looked at the picture again, and knew that she didn’t want to live with them, however beautiful their house.

  It’s time to make my own way. Just me and Harry. That’s how it was going to be. Nobody else. She’d had enough of depending on other people. It was time to do things her way. Nobody else to shape her life and try and make her into something she wasn’t.

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t…’ she said, handing back the photo.

  ‘He’ll look after us.’

  ‘I don’t need looking after.’ It came out fast, sounded ungrateful and Natalie shrivelled inside as soon as the words had been spoken.

  ‘Sure, you do.’ Katya’s face was serious, a hard glint in her eyes. ‘We all need looking after. No arguments. You come and live with me. I promise, you’ll like it.’

  Natalie squirmed. An unfamiliar tension hung in the air, awkwardness pushing them apart. Katya leant over and picked up the pack of cards from Natalie’s bedside cabinet. Natalie moved her legs and changed her position on the bed while Katya dealt the cards ready for a game that Natalie didn’t want to play.

  ‘Rummy?’

  Natalie shook her head, her mind full of Harry. Whatever course of action she took, she was going to need money and that was something she didn’t have. Mr Higgins had said it might take years to get a settlement out of Tom. She sighed, dragged down by the weight of her worries. I’ll always be Harry’s mum, she reassured herself. Nobody’s ever going to take that away from me. But how could she be his mum if he wasn’t with her?

  ‘Oh, come on,’ Katya said. ‘Moping won’t do any good. What about blackjack, then?’ She gathered up the cards, pressed them into Natalie’s hand. ‘You shuffle. Do that fancy croupier stuff.’ Natalie looked at the cards as if she didn’t know what to do with them, her mind taken back to her past, when life was everything she’d hoped for and more.

  Blackjack.

  Tom’s favourite game at the casino. That’s where they’d first met. She’d been the dealer when he sauntered into the room, looking handsome and confident in an old money sort of way. You could spot them a mile off, she’d realised, after a year of working the tables. The way they dressed. Hairstyles. And especially in the way they talked. Old money people had such lovely manners, always articulate and polite. Completely charming.

  ‘Good evening, sir,’ she’d said with her brightest smile, because he was the most attractive man she’d seen in a long while, and part of her job was to flirt a little, get the punters coming to her table.

  ‘Good evening,’ he’d replied, his eyes finding hers and holding them for a delicious moment, sending an unexpected glow round her body. He’d looked like James Bond in Casino Royale, his voice smooth and sexy and she’d felt her heart beat a little faster when he’d taken a seat. The table had been empty, so it’d just been the two of them. He’d held her gaze while she’d shuffled the cards, putting on a show for him.

  An hour or so later, Tom had left the table with a broad grin on his face and thirteen hundred pounds in his pocket. He’d come back the next day and the next, making her laugh with his dry wit and she’d found herself looking out for him. On the fourth night, he’d asked her out to dinner.

  It had taken her two weeks to fall in love and after they’d been together for five months, Tom had proposed. ‘I want to look after you, my love. Always.’

  And look how that had turned out.

  Natalie’s jaw worked from side to side. The last thing she needed was a man to look after her. And Katya’s brother looked as easy to get along with as a scorpion. No, living with Katya was never going to work; she’d just have to think of something else.

  Natalie stared at the cards as she shuffled. There had been such a seismic shift in her life, she was finding it hard to think without gusts of panic scattering her thoughts like tumbleweed, blowing them this way and that so she couldn’t catch hold. How was she ever going to cope without being able to even see Harry? What if Tom wouldn’t co-operate with access? The walls started closing in on her. She couldn’t breathe. The room started to spin. She dropped the cards and clambered to her feet, gasping. ‘I’ve got to get out of here.’

  Katya frowned, picked up the cards and started dealing their hands. ‘Sure you do. We all do.’

  Natalie lurched towards the door, and grabbed the doorframe for support, hand on her chest as her heart hammered at an alarming rate. ‘No, I mean now. I need to go outside. Get some fresh air.’

  Katya was up in a flash, blocking the doorway. ‘Oh no, you don’t want to do that. Not on your own.’ She sounded cross, her voice sharp. ‘Haven’t you been listening?’

  ‘I just want to go outside.’ Natalie ducked under her arm. In all the time she’d been on the Wing, she’d only been outside once on her own. Since then, she’d waited for Katya to go with her. But now she was desperate, she didn’t even think about it and started to walk down the corridor.

  Katya caught her by the elbow. ‘Hold on,’ she hissed. ‘You need protection. You know what I’ve told you about the people in here? You’re not safe on your own.’ Natalie glanced around the corridor at the groups of women standing chatting. They turned and stared at her, suddenly silent. A chill settled between her shoulder blades as she took in the faces ravaged by drugs, alcohol and abuse. Skin defaced by crude tattoos and self-harm. She huddled closer to Katya and made sure that her eyes stayed on the floor.

  ‘You don’t want to mix with them,’ Katya said when they emerged into the crisp air of the exercise yard, which reminded Natalie of the old tennis court at her school, with its tarmac surface and high wire fencing. A breeze lifted Natalie’s hair, stroked her face and her chest expanded, allowing her to breathe properly again. She leant against the fence, gulping in air and it was only when her panic attack had passed that she noticed curious eyes staring at her, and was glad that she wasn’t alone.

  Maybe Katya was right.

  ‘You know, Katya, I think that was a good idea. Me coming to stay with you for a few weeks when I get out. If it’s still okay.’

  Katya beamed at her and linked her arm through Natalie’s. ‘’Course it is! And Lech’s coming to visit in a couple of days. I’ll get him to book to see you as well, then you’ll get to meet him.’

  Na
talie nodded. Yes, a meeting in the flesh might put my mind at rest.

  The visiting room was loud with chatter when they entered, Friday being a popular day for visits. The visiting suite had been recently refurbished and was an open, airy space filled with rows of Formica-topped tables, each with two chairs on either side. At one end of the room was a play area for children and another area set out with leather sofas. To one side there was a serving hatch for drinks, next to a vending machine full of snacks.

  All the prisoners had to be settled at tables, in their seats, before visitors were shepherded in by the Visits Officer and led to the correct table. Natalie and Katya sat side by side, studying the door as each person was brought in. Katya’s hand found Natalie’s and she held it tight.

  ‘Don’t worry. He’ll be here,’ she said, a hint of nerves in her voice, something Natalie had never heard before. Then the door opened and in strode Lech, a big lump of a man, just like the picture Natalie had seen, but visibly older. His short, dark hair was greying round the temples, his beard grey flecked with black. It softened his face, Natalie thought. But his eyes were still like a hawk, deep-set and piercing as they raked the room, flicking over Natalie, before settling on Katya. That’s when his face changed, transformed by a huge smile full of perfect white teeth.

  ‘Kiciu,’ he said as he was shown to their table. ‘I thought I was never going to get through the door. So many people today.’

  Katya had jumped up as soon as she saw him and was waiting with open arms. He wrapped her in a hug, kissed her cheek and let her go.

  ‘Zabko,’ she said, as they sat looking at each other, obviously delighted to see each other again. ‘What’s that on your face?’

  He stroked his beard, eyes wide in mock offence. ‘You don’t like it?’ He shrugged. ‘Is fashion.’

  Katya giggled. ‘What do you think, Nat? Does it make him look old?’

  Natalie blushed as Lech turned his attention to her, not wanting to say anything in case she got it wrong.

  ‘You must be Natalie.’ He held out his hand and gave her a firm handshake, amusement flickering in his eyes. His hand was hot and sweaty, and she had to wait for him to let go, which took several seconds longer than she would have liked. ‘I have heard so much about you. And any friend of Katya’s is a friend of mine.’ He gave a little bow. She was stuck for something to say, hadn’t expected him to be charming. She smiled and looked down at her hands.

  His accent was there, stronger than Katya’s, but his English was very good. He talked to Katya about their childhood, bringing up funny stories about mishaps and misunderstandings that made them all laugh. Sometimes the two of them would slip into Polish and Natalie would have to wait for them to realise and switch back to English. He was the opposite of what Natalie had expected, and was quite the clown, entertaining them both for the best part of two hours.

  When he was gone, Katya turned to Natalie. ‘There, I knew you’d like him.’

  Natalie smiled. ‘Yes,’ she said, to keep Katya happy. But it wasn’t true.

  At the time, she couldn’t put it into words, but later, when she was alone in her cell, able to replay the meeting in her head, she came to understand what it was about Lech that bothered her. He didn’t seem real. Had it all been an act? And there were the intense bursts of Polish conversation that pushed her out on a limb and left her wondering what they were talking about. He had that air of a powerful man in more than the physical sense. She’d met many of them in her job at the casino and then in finance, but she’d never felt comfortable with them. Had never liked them. And now she was going to go and live with one.

  Beggars can’t be choosers, she told herself as she lay in the dark, listening to the noise. It’ll only be for a few weeks. She’d be gone as soon as she could make other arrangements, of that she was sure.

  Twenty-Six

  Now

  ‘I knew I’d catch up with you eventually,’ the man says. ‘Led me a right merry dance, you have.’

  Natalie screams as his hand tightens around her. But the man is quick and his hand slaps over her nose and mouth. Her eyes widen, lungs bellowing in and out, unable to think beyond the need to breathe. She sucks in the skin of his hand instead of air. Sweaty and rough, it tastes of salt and tobacco, making her stomach lurch. Instinctively, her teeth clamp round his flesh, tearing at it like a zombie, but his skin is tough as leather, a working man’s hand and her teeth make little impression. She nips instead, as hard as she can, her canines finding a softer patch at the base of his thumb, breaking the skin.

  ‘Aargh!’ he snarls. ‘You vicious little…!’

  He pulls his hand away and wipes it on his trousers. She draws in air, eyes searching for someone to help as she gets ready to try another scream. But his arm tightens around her body, strong as a boa constrictor, squeezing her chest so hard there is no room for her ribs to move or her lungs to expand. She hears crunching, as bones compress, the force of his grasp shooting the remaining air out of her mouth. She breathes in little gasps and starts to feel lightheaded, the buildings swaying and swirling in front of her eyes, her legs weakening.

  Dammit! Relax, she tells herself, as panic flutters against her ribs. Remember what you were taught: by fighting him, you’re fighting yourself. She has to bide her time, wait until his concentration lapses. Which it will, she reassures herself. It will.

  Against all her natural instincts, she forces herself to stop struggling and after a moment he loosens his hold a fraction, enough to allow her to take deeper breaths and the world starts to settle into its normal order.

  ‘Look, none of that funny business,’ he says. ‘Or you’ll be off to hospital in an ambulance.’

  His voice is a gruff smoker’s rasp and his accent is not what she was expecting. Katya and Lech both spoke with a slight American twang, a product of learning English from the television and Internet. But this man’s accent is northern. Flat vowels. Yorkshire maybe?

  It’s not Lech, is it? It’s hard to be sure, given that it’s three years since she met him and at the time she’d felt he was putting on an act. Which may have included an accent. He’s older than Katya, so maybe he’s been in England longer, learned his English while working in the north somewhere? Doesn’t matter who it is, she tells herself. The important thing is to escape.

  Screaming is probably not a good idea, she decides. The last thing she wants is for the police to turn up and complicate things. She swallows and closes her eyes, thoughts flipping through her mind as if they’re on fast forward.

  So, what’s his plan?

  If he’s even got a plan. Because there’s not much he can do to her in the middle of town, is there? Her pulse begins to steady. Even on this back street, somebody will come. It’s a cut-through. Office workers are bound to use it, to and fro, getting their lunch. And it’s almost lunchtime.

  Her eyes flick open and she catches the man’s reflection in the shop window. With a jolt, she recognises the shirt. A blue Hawaiian thing. It’s the man I saw earlier! The one in the street by the baby who was knocked out of its buggy. He turns away and she doesn’t have time to study his face, compare it with the mental image she has of Lech. Would I even remember his features after all this time? She’s not good at recognising faces at the best of times, but his eyes, she thinks, she’d definitely remember those eyes. The look of a predator.

  His grip relaxes, just a smidge, but she’s alert to every tiny movement, every indication that his concentration is not what it should be. She stomps on his instep, hard as she can, but sandals are not the right tool for the job and a stabbing pain shoots up her leg. He doesn’t flinch. She scowls and tries to kick his shins, his knees, but he’s wise to her moves and keeps turning her round so she can’t make contact.

  ‘Right little firecracker, aren’t we?’ he says from between clenched teeth. He squeezes her harder. Lack of oxygen makes her head spin. A sob of frustration catches in her throat. Then a movement catches her eye. Someone walking. Oh, thank goodn
ess! She thrashes her legs and tries to scream, but his reactions are quick and he clamps his hand over her mouth again. He moves his body round, so his back is towards the pedestrian and she can’t be seen.

  ‘Citizen’s arrest,’ he shouts to the person, over his shoulder. ‘This one’s wanted by the police for reckless endangerment. Just waiting for them to get here.’ He sounds authentic, very believable. Like he’s in the right.

  ‘Oh, okay, mate. Nice one.’ A man’s voice says. ‘Need any help?’

  ‘Nah, mate. Got it covered.’ He sounds calm, as if this is an everyday event.

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yeah, mate. Cops should be here any minute.’

  Cops? She frowns. He hasn’t had time to ring them, has he? And anyway, why would he want the cops involved? It’s got to be a bluff. But whatever his plans might be, she’s got to make her move quickly. Quickly. Because Tom will be leaving his office soon and if she doesn’t get away from this man, her chance to follow him and get to Harry will be gone.

  The thought fires up her resolve like putting a match to a bonfire.

  The bystander walks on and she listens to the sound of his footsteps as they fade away, clear in her mind what she has to do.

  ‘Right, then. So, we’re going to take a little walk,’ he says.

  He has to change his grip, and she suddenly lets her body go limp, so he’s holding all her weight. It takes his balance, because he’s not expecting it and he lurches forwards, his shoulder and head smacking into the wall. He grunts and stops, clearly dazed. She grits her teeth and throws her head back with all the force she can muster. Crunch! She cries out when her skull hits bone, a sharp pain slicing through the back of her head.