Keep You Safe

by Rona Halsall

  He’s certain it’s the only place she can be.

  Before he can move, his phone buzzes and when he sees who’s calling, he accepts the call, knowing that it’ll be quick. ‘Tobes, mate. What you got?’

  ‘God, that was too easy, you know, man. Make it harder next time, will ya?’

  Jack laughs. ‘Alright, clever clogs. So, who owns the car?’

  ‘The car is registered to one Blue Cougar. Our very own celebrity.’

  Jack frowns. ‘Who? That doesn’t even sound like a real name.’

  Toby laughs. ‘You must have heard of her, man. She’s an actress. Adult films, I think they call them these days. They did an article about her in the papers when she was on that reality TV show a couple of weeks back. Don’t tell me you didn’t see it. Dude, she is hot! And that picture, well, it’s on my wall here.’

  Jack did see the picture. He remembers it well.

  And his brain makes a connection that jolts through him like an electric shock.

  He can’t wait for Fliss to call him back.

  ‘New mission, mate,’ he says to Toby.

  Fifty-Three

  Now

  A look of disgust twists Sasha’s mouth into an ugly gash as she stares at the splatter of sick on the floor.

  ‘Seriously? Did you really have to do that?’ There’s a meanness in Sasha’s eyes that Natalie has never seen before, a look that suggests a dozen things she might like to do with a carving knife.

  Natalie feels a shiver in the pit of her stomach. She flashes a glance at the open patio door, just for a second, but Sasha catches her eye, steps over Tom’s body and closes the door, making sure it’s locked before tucking the key into her pocket. Then she pulls out a chair, away from the puddle of sick, and steps towards Natalie, placing the point of the knife under her chin.

  ‘Have a seat,’ she says, walking Natalie backwards until her legs hit the chair and she has no option but to sit.

  Keep calm. Keep calm, Natalie tells herself, aware that she’s not going to get many opportunities to escape, and there’s a limit as to what she can do with her injuries. She has to be ready for the merest hint of a chance and can’t let her resolve be fractured by panic. But her body isn’t listening, is nothing close to calm, and her heart hammers in her chest.

  She keeps Sasha’s gaze, wary of what she’s going to do next, watching her jaw work from side to side.

  ‘So, what exactly happened to your arm?’ Sasha says, head cocked to one side. She runs the point of the knife down Natalie’s throat until it rests in the hollow at its base. The blade drags through her skin, the point digging in when she swallows. Natalie winces. She feels blood trickle from the cut, inching its way between her breasts. The sound of her pulse fills her ears.

  Without warning, Sasha punches Natalie’s bad shoulder with the force of a boxer going for a knockout blow. The chair rocks back, almost tipping over before righting itself. Natalie howls, her eyes stinging but she’s determined not to cry. Because crying means she’s given up. And giving up is not something she’s going to be doing. Not until she and Harry are safe.

  Oh God, that hurts. That really bloody hurts. Her good hand clutches her shoulder and she groans inside. It feels weird. Knobbly in the wrong places. Has the joint popped out again? Whatever has happened, she knows her shoulder is now useless, that the sling has to stay in place and she only has one useful arm to fight with. Do anything with.

  Sasha cackles, like she’s watching a comedy act.

  ‘Ooh, sorry, did that hurt?’ She gazes at Natalie. ‘Let me see… is it dislocated?’

  Natalie blinks and chews her lip.

  Sasha scrunches her nose. ‘Now that’s a bit of a disappointment, you see. Sort of slims down the options.’

  Options? Options for what? A bead of sweat works its way down Natalie’s spine.

  ‘Ho hum. Never freakin’ simple, is it?’ Sasha shakes her head, and puts the knife back at Natalie’s throat. ‘I’ll just have to improvise, I suppose.’

  She stretches a hand to open a drawer behind her and rummages around, eyes on Natalie all the time. ‘One move and this is going right through your throat, okay?’

  Natalie blinks.

  Sasha takes out a roll of masking tape, looks at it and scowls. ‘That’s no bloody good, is it?’ She rummages again, pulls out a hammer and studies it for a moment. ‘Hmm, this might work. I just need you immobilised, you see, while I set everything up.’

  You can do a lot of damage with a hammer, Natalie thinks, wondering how she can defend herself against a tool like that. A fresh burst of adrenaline floods into her bloodstream and, after a moment, her thoughts settle, like mud in a lake, allowing her to view the situation with a new clarity.

  I’ve got to talk to her. Because if Sasha has a weakness, it’s that she always has to have the last word. And if she’s talking, not paying attention, then an opportunity will surely come along.

  ‘What have you done with Harry?’ Natalie says the words without moving her lips, like a ventriloquist, no movement in her throat. ‘Where’s my son?’

  Sasha’s eyes narrow. ‘Your son?’ Her voice is low, menacing. The knife waves in front of Natalie’s face. ‘You really don’t understand, do you?’ There’s fire in Sasha’s eyes and she leans forwards until her face is inches from Natalie’s. ‘He’s not been your son for years, you stupid bitch. Harry is my son. Mine. I’m the one he calls Mummy. I’m the one who saw his first steps, who heard his first words. I’m the one who nursed him through chicken pox and scarlet fever and all those colds. It’s me he comes to for a cuddle when he’s tired and upset. Me who reads to him at bedtime. You don’t even know him.’ Her chin quivers as she wrestles with her emotions. ‘He’s my little man, the child I thought I’d never have. I’m the one he loves, not you.’ She hawks up phlegm and spits in Natalie’s face. ‘You’re nothing to him, d’ya hear me? Nothing.’

  Natalie recoils as the gob of spit slides down her cheek and drips off her chin. Her eyes slide towards Tom, then back to Sasha and things click into place.

  Sasha married Tom?

  Natalie can hardly bear to have the thought in her head, the taste of betrayal coating her tongue like poison. She clenches her arms against her chest, hands gripping each other as if she will fall out of the world if she dares to let go. Her best friend married her lying, scheming ex-husband? Then pretended we were still friends. All those letters slagging him off. And none of it was real?

  She can feel the rage building inside her, heat in her throat, fiery words ready to blast out of her mouth. No, no, no! she screams at herself. You’ll make it worse. Give her an audience, that’s what she likes. Use distraction as a weapon.

  She brings her focus back to Sasha, who is still speaking.

  ‘Let’s face it, you couldn’t look after Harry properly. I had to come and help you, didn’t I?’

  Fury fizzes on Natalie’s lips but she swallows it down. Play along. Be the person you used to be around her. After all, Sasha has no idea who Natalie is now. No idea what she’s capable of. And there are no limits as to what she’ll do to get Harry back.

  ‘Only while I was poorly,’ Natalie says, in a pitiful voice.

  Sasha slams the hammer down on the table, leaving an indentation in the surface.

  ‘A month! I was there for a month. Plenty of time to see what was really going on in your perfect little life. In your big, posh freakin’ house with your high-flyer of a fucking gorgeous husband.’

  Sasha waves the knife around as she talks, her voice getting louder. Natalie takes a deep breath. Pick a moment, she tells herself, keeping her eyes locked on Sasha’s. You’ve got one arm and you can still use your legs, can’t you?

  But the knife is over her heart now. Piercing her clothes, pressing into her skin. She hardly dares to breathe and speaks in little gasps, so her chest doesn’t move.

  ‘I was exhausted, you know that. You’ve no idea what hard work it was when Harry was poorly.’

&nb
sp; Sasha sneers, the knife flashing in the air again, to emphasis her point. ‘Tom said you couldn’t cope with motherhood. He didn’t know what to do with you.’

  Natalie gasps. ‘What? That’s not true! Tom was never there, so he doesn’t… didn’t know what I had to cope with. We were in separate rooms, so he could get a proper night’s sleep. He didn’t—’

  ‘Oh, spare me the sob story,’ Sasha snaps. ‘You had your chance and you blew it.’

  She delves in the drawer and her hand comes out clutching several nails. She looks at them, a slow smile creeping onto her lips. She lowers the knife. ‘Yeah, I think these will do nicely.’

  Images flick through Natalie’s head. Terrible things you could do with a hammer and nails. She needs to act quickly. Now! But before she can move, Sasha drops the knife on the table, grabs a sheet out of the washing basket and flicks it round Natalie’s body, strapping Natalie’s arms to her chest, her body to the chair. Sasha wraps it round again and pulls it even tighter. Natalie tries to wriggle free, but can hardly move.

  She’s trapped.

  Panic rears its head, threatening to overwhelm her in one swift gulp. She closes her eyes for a moment and sees Harry’s face. How can I let this monster have him? She can’t, not while she’s still got breath in her body. When she blinks her eyes open, she feels sharper, bolder, more alive. I won’t let her win. For Harry’s sake.

  Sasha picks up the hammer and starts nailing the sheet to the back of the wooden chair. Tap, tap. Bang. Bang. Bang. She whacks at the nails and each blow judders into Natalie’s back, the vibrations finding their way into her shredded nerves like the worst kind of toothache. She groans and tries to lean forwards, but Sasha has pinned her tight.

  ‘Aw, is that hurting?’ Sasha’s voice drips with mock sympathy. ‘Nearly finished.’ She gives the fifth nail one last whack and stands back to survey her handiwork. ‘This is just temporary, you know. While I get the noose set up on the stairs.’

  Noose? Natalie’s eyes widen.

  Sasha leans forwards, hands on her knees, her face level with Natalie’s. ‘I think it’s possible that you could manage to hang yourself, don’t you? Even with your injuries. It was going to be drugs, alcohol and slit wrists in the bath, but I’m not sure you could do that with a dislocated shoulder and a knackered hand.’

  She’s going to kill me!

  Bile rushes up Natalie’s throat, the chance of escape more remote than ever. It all seems surreal. Or is she just trying to frighten me? Her eyes slide to Tom’s lifeless body and fear wraps itself round her chest. There’s no doubt that he’s dead. And no doubt, either that Sasha had something to do with it. And if you’ve killed one person, then why not two?

  ‘Yes, I think hanging is probably better,’ Sasha says. ‘We’ll write out a nice note. Couldn’t cope with life without Harry. Couldn’t face going back to prison. And that will be that.’ She slaps her hands together and smiles. ‘All over.’

  She stands up and pouts. ‘You do understand, don’t you? I can’t live like this, waiting to see if you’ll turn up. Always thinking you’ll try and take Harry away. Having you chase after us wherever I take him. Honestly, my nerves are shot to pieces.’ She shakes her head. ‘I have to say, I underestimated you. I thought prison would break you. I thought you’d give up, would abide by the law and leave us alone.’ She gazes at Natalie. ‘There is no other way, sweetie. And I think, in all honesty, death will be a blessing for you.’

  Fifty-Four

  Now

  Jack checks his watch again. Ten minutes since he called Toby. He paces another lap round the kitchen then rings him back.

  ‘Got anything?’

  ‘Nah, mate.’ Toby sighs. ‘Bit tricky, this one. Nothing under the wife’s maiden name, before she changed her name by Deed Poll, or her married name, Sasha Wilson.’

  ‘What?’ Jack’s eyes widen as he recognises the name. ‘Did you say Sasha?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s right.’

  Jack whistles between his teeth. Isn’t Sasha the name of Natalie’s friend? Can’t be a coincidence, can it? ‘Oh God, that’s not good.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘Anything for Tom Wilson?’

  ‘Nah, mate. Nothing under his name, rented or owned.’

  ‘But they’ve got to be living somewhere?’

  ‘Probably a private rental. That’s the most likely thing. Or staying with a friend? But I wouldn’t know where to start with that. All I know is that everything I would normally use has just come up with their old address, you know, his parents’ house.’

  Jack thanks Toby for trying and asks him to keep looking.

  Is it time to ring the police? He cringes as he runs through the story he would have to tell them. And he doesn’t know for certain that she’s in danger, does he? But he feels it, wrapping its icy fingers round his heart. He shivers and tries to call Fliss again.

  Fifty-Five

  Now

  Sasha grabs hold of the chair that Natalie’s sitting on and tips it backwards, so it’s resting on the two back legs and starts to drag it across the floor, heaving it first this way, then that, the legs screeching and scraping on the quarry tiles. Sasha grunts with the effort and Natalie tries to make herself heavy by relaxing her muscles, but it’s not working because her body has already been primed to fight.

  She’s going to kill me!

  The words are on a loop going around and round in Natalie’s head, getting louder and louder until they are shrieking at her, and she can hardly stand it. Her stomach roils and gripes and she thinks she might be sick again.

  Get a grip, will you? She takes a deep breath. Then another. Engage the enemy, isn’t that what they say?

  ‘Sasha, stop this!’ Natalie shouts. ‘It’s madness. Come on. It’s all got out of hand, let’s talk this through. Work out a solution.’

  Sasha keeps on tugging, snarling like a wild animal.

  Natalie grits her teeth. ‘You’re right,’ she says. ‘Harry isn’t my son anymore. I can see that now.’ Her voice quivers. ‘I promise you, I’ll just go away, leave you alone.’

  Sasha stops, and the chair bangs down onto four legs sending fresh splinters of agony through Natalie’s body. Sasha leans over to catch her breath, hands on her knees. Natalie closes her eyes, lets out a long, slow breath to settle her thoughts. There’s got to be a way out of this.

  Sasha straightens up, goes to the sink and runs a glass of water. She gulps it down, then pulls out a chair and sits in front of Natalie, wiping her brow with the back of her hand.

  ‘You know, they say you should be careful what you wish for?’ Sasha looks over at Tom. ‘He wanted me so badly, you’ve no idea. He needed support and you couldn’t give it, you were so wrapped up in yourself. Honestly, it was pathetic. He came to me, desperate for a shoulder to cry on, knowing that he was making a mess of everything and you weren’t there to help him. And I—’ her voice wavers and she stops, her mouth a thin line, eyes glistening ‘—I so desperately wanted a child. But… as you know, I couldn’t have one. I was thinking about adoption, but who would choose me as an adoptive mother? And I just looked at you with your wonderful husband, who you didn’t love and your beautiful child who enjoyed being with me more than he wanted to be with you…’

  She shakes her head, lips drawn back as she sneers at Natalie.

  ‘You always had everything I ever wanted. There I was slogging away, trying to make it in the movies and ending up doing crappy porn and you just landed on your feet. Married into a shedload of money, given a fabulous job by your husband. Wonderful house. Yet there you were, wallowing around like a freakin’ beached whale, all moany and miserable, not looking after your husband or your baby. You were making both of them unhappy and I knew… I knew that they needed me.’ She jabs a finger at Natalie. ‘I had to make your life into my life. Because you didn’t deserve it. And they deserved better.’

  Natalie is quiet, patient as a cat, sensing that an opportunity is about to unfold.

&nbs
p; This is it. She’s going off on one, playing to the crowd.

  ‘It was so easy to take what I wanted.’ She flings her arms wide. ‘So easy that I just knew it was meant to be. The cosmos was with me. Call it Karma.’ Sasha shrugs and holds up her hands. ‘I don’t know. But Tom didn’t need much persuasion, that’s for sure.’ Her eyes shine. ‘He was so grateful I was there. So happy that I worked out how to get him out of the mess he was in.’

  ‘Mess?’ Keep it going, keep it going. ‘What mess?’

  Sasha snorts and looks at the ceiling. ‘There you go, just shows how little you knew about your husband. How unaware of his needs.’ While Sasha isn’t looking, Natalie pushes against her bindings with as much force as she can muster.

  She hears a slight tearing sound.

  Did Sasha hear it too?

  Natalie doesn’t think so because she’s still talking to the ceiling.

  ‘I could see that as soon as I came to stay. Two days it took, for him to come to my bed.’ She looks at Natalie again, a triumphant gleam in her eyes.

  ‘No!’ Natalie’s jaw clenches. They were having an affair while I was in the house. ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘Well, obviously there’s nobody to corroborate my story now that Tom’s dead.’ Sasha looks at him as if to check, then sniggers and sings, ‘Dead. Dead. Dead as a dodo.’ She closes her eyes, wrapped in a fit of giggles. Natalie pushes against the sheet again and hears another tear.

  Sasha’s eyes flick open.

  Natalie’s heart skips a beat and she stares at Sasha, keeps her body completely still.

  ‘You’ll just have to take my word for it. Your husband had massive gambling debts. He had no idea what to do. Panicking he was, really panicking. Felt he was a failure, let his family down and all that shit.’ She flaps a dismissive hand. ‘Anyway, once the drugs had started working, you were even more hopeless, then you started spending money on frivolous things, and… well, he lost his patience. It took a while, of course. Rome wasn’t built in a day, was it? But finally he saw that my plan was the only way out for him. And a couple of years in prison wasn’t too bad for you, a palatable trade-off.’ She smiles. ‘Stealing money off a client and setting you up was the only way he was going to get himself out of trouble. He couldn’t go crawling to his father for money, now could he? It would have killed Tom for his dad to know about his gambling. So, you see, he needed me.’