The Attic Room: A psychological thriller

by Linda Huber

  Nina sat watching the policemen gesticulate as they conferred. Anger was beginning to replace the nausea. ‘Shit, Sam, how dare Paul do this?’

  ‘I know. Just – hope as hard as you can,’ he said.

  Nina rubbed her face. It wasn’t hope she was feeling now, it was dread, but he was right. She should hope. She tried to concentrate on being positive.

  David Mallony returned and bent to the back seat window.

  ‘The farmhouse is further along the lane beyond the church. There’s a belt of trees between it and the village, so we can’t see anything from here. We don’t want to warn Wright if he’s there, so Kev and Phil are going to scout through the trees and see what’s going on. Then if necessary the rest of us can drive on up to the house.’

  He got back into the car and sat with them, and Nina appreciated the gesture although she knew that nothing today could be of any comfort. The other officers stood around outside.

  After about ten minutes David Mallony’s radio crackled, and he spoke with presumably either Kev or Phil, but the voice was so distorted that Nina couldn’t understand more than the odd word. David’s contributions were merely short affirmatives. He lowered the radio and turned to Nina and Sam.

  ‘They’ve been round the outside of the building and there’s no sign of life and no car. The others are going up there now. We’ll move up the lane a little too,’ he said, edging the car along behind the other vehicles, stopping after a few hundred metres.

  From their new standing place it still wasn’t possible to see the farmhouse, and Nina shivered. This waiting was horrendous. As bad as the day they’d done the last brain function test on Claire, with Nina in the waiting room, knowing what was coming. Today, she didn’t know what the outcome would be, and the dread was mixed with heart-piercing hope. Another ten minutes passed before the next report, and again David Mallony had to translate.

  ‘No answer at the door and no one in the outhouses. We’re going right up there now but you stay in the car, okay, Nina?’

  In a few moments the farmhouse came into view, an old, somewhat ramshackle building with homey tubs of petunias by the front door and cheerful blue and white checked curtains at the downstairs windows. Nina’s brittle hopes plummeted. This place looked a lot more like an elderly couple’s home than a paedophiles’ retreat. The car drove round the house and pulled up by the back door, and Nina saw a policeman jiggle with a window that had been left tilted. In seconds it was wide open and the officer was climbing in.

  ‘That’s why you should never go out without closing your windows,’ said David, and Nina nodded, her eyes never leaving the window. She jumped in fright when the back door of the house opened and the police officer jogged towards the car, his gloved hand clutching something pink in a plastic evidence bag.

  ‘It was on the kitchen floor,’ he said, holding up the bag to show a pink and white rubber band bracelet. ‘Is it – ’

  Nina’s head was buzzing and she couldn’t see properly. Waves of dizziness were threatening to overcome her. She opened her mouth, but her voice had gone.

  ‘It’s Naomi’s,’ said Sam. ‘I’ve seen her with it. Nina, put your head down.’

  He pushed her head between her knees and the giddiness receded. She scrabbled for the door handle.

  ‘Nina, stay in the car!’ said David, getting out himself. ‘Wright has a gun, remember? When – if – we want you to come, I’ll get you.’

  He disappeared into the farmhouse. Now all the policemen were inside except one who was standing at the corner of the building, and Nina saw with a shock that he was armed. There was the sound of an engine, and the paramedic appeared up the lane and parked on the far side of the car. Nina moaned.

  ‘Dear God, Sam, is she - ?’

  David’s voice. ‘Nina! Come quickly!’ The shout came from within the house, and Nina was out of the car and running, the paramedic close behind her.

  Naomi baby, I’m coming, Mummy’s coming, I’m right here…

  She crashed through the back door and pulled up short in a large farmhouse kitchen. Which way, which way? The house was silent; it was cold, and seemed deserted – and –

  Naomi?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Claire’s Story – Glasgow

  Something was hissing behind her, but her eyelids were too heavy to open. Panic surged through Claire as she realised she couldn’t move. And her face… something was wrong, her face was broken, tight, something hard was covering her nose – oh God, what was happening? Where was she?

  ‘Talk to her,’ said a voice. ‘She isn’t deeply unconscious now.’

  ‘Mum?’

  The surge of panic came again as Claire heard the fear in Nina’s voice. It took a monumental effort, but she managed to crack her eyes open. Brightness stabbed into her head but not before she saw the orange curtains hanging round the bed – oh dear Lord, she was in hospital. The thing on her face was an oxygen mask. In a way it was reassuring. They would look after her here, wouldn’t they? Her thoughts drifted into nothing; it was easier.

  A bang nearby focussed her mind again. Nina was still there, and she was talking.

  ‘…and Morag’s looking after Naomi. It’ll be okay, Mum. They’re experts here, it’s a specialist unit so you’re in the best possible place.’

  Again and again Claire tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn’t obey her. It was so horrible. She couldn’t see Nina, but that would be Nina’s hand holding hers, wouldn’t it? She tried to squeeze the cold fingers, but her own remained lifeless. She must be really bad; a specialist unit wasn’t going to be on the island. Had they taken her to Glasgow? Oh dear Lord.

  Nina was silent again, but Claire could hear her daughter’s uneven breathing; she could sense Nina’s fear. What was going on? Heavier darkness swung into her head, and a shiver ran through her body. She was hurt; she was badly hurt, maybe she was going to die here… No, no, she couldn’t leave her girls. Oh God, she didn’t want to die, please God… But the darkness was all around now.

  A new thought struck and Claire’s mind was suddenly clear. Robert. If she died now Robert would get in touch with Nina. What a shock that would be for her girl, to have a long-dead father appear and say – what? What would Robert tell Nina? And what would Nina say, what would she think of Claire for lying to her all these long years? How stupid she’d been; she should have written that letter to Nina, the one to be opened after her death. Nina would never know why her mother had lied about her father’s death. But maybe she could still put that right.

  For a long moment she gathered her strength, then at last she managed to open her eyes. Nina was sitting by the bed, eyes closed and her face pale as… as death. Claire feasted her eyes on her girl. All she needed to do was tell Nina that Robert was alive. Nina must have felt her gaze, for she opened her eyes and leaned forward, clutching Claire’s hand.

  ‘Mum? Is there something you want?’

  Thank God, Nina had realised she wanted to speak. Claire opened her mouth but no sound came out. She tried a whisper.

  ‘I’m sorry. I should have told you.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mum, it’s all right. You can tell me later.’

  ‘Robert.’

  But her voice was gone again, swallowed by the hissing of the mask on her face, and Nina didn’t understand. Claire tried again, with the same result.

  Nina patted her shoulder.

  ‘Relax, Mum. Have a rest for now. I’ll go and phone home, tell them you’re awake. Morag’ll be so…’

  Claire’s eyes closed again and she felt herself drifting as Nina continued to speak. Dear God, if she went to sleep now she’d never be able to tell Nina about Robert. All at once she knew that was exactly what was going to happen. The darkness was different now… This wasn’t just floating towards sleep, this was… distancing… leaving… listening to the person she loved most in the world, and knowing she would never see Nina again, or Naomi… She should have told Nina right at the start… or at least,
when she had grown up… but Nina would forgive her, Nina loved her…

  The world was closing in… her world – Edinburgh, and Bedford… and Arran; she was standing at the top of the hill now, the Firth blue and sparkling down below. Nina was running towards her… how terrible to leave with no goodbye…

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ‘Nina!’

  David’s voice came from upstairs, and Nina stumbled through the cluttered kitchen. Her breath hoarse in her ears, she thundered past the ancient coffee machine on the counter, the old-man slippers by the Aga, and upstairs past the trio of framed embroideries on the stair wall. Two policemen at the top motioned her into a room facing the front of the house. Three more strides and Nina gathered Naomi into her arms, feeling the terrible tension in the girl’s body. Naomi was sitting on the double bed, shivering, her eyes wild, but she was alive, thank Christ, she was alive. Sheer, blessed relief flooded through Nina as she rejoiced in every heave of Naomi’s chest as they sat there clutching each other, both trembling. Her baby was here; she was holding her little girl.

  David touched her shoulder and spoke quietly. ‘She was locked in, Nina, but the key was in the door. We need to find out if she knows where Wright has gone – she didn’t answer when I asked.’

  Nina stroked the hair from Naomi’s face. ‘Do you know, sweetie?’

  Naomi shook her head then burst out crying, and Nina couldn’t prevent her own tears.

  For a few moments she and Naomi hugged and sobbed together, then Nina wiped her eyes. Time for supermum.

  ‘Sweetheart, you’re safe now. We’ve got you. Naomi – are you hurt? What did he do to you?’

  The million dollar question, and Nina leaned back to look into Naomi’s face. Her daughter was pale and wide-eyed with fear, her face tear-streaked and filthy, and she was clutching Nina with shaking hands. Hell, no child’s hands should ever have to shake like this.

  ‘He kept grabbing me and pushing me around,’ she whispered. ‘And he wouldn’t tell me where we were or nothing, he was horrible, Mummy, why did he do that?’

  Nina stroked the tangled honey-coloured hair back from the pale face, feeling the tightness inside her gut begin to ease. It didn’t sound as if Paul had abused Naomi, but the girl’s use of the word ‘Mummy’ showed how insecure and frightened she was. Nina swallowed. What, oh what was she supposed to say to make the situation less frightening for her child?

  ‘I think he’s a – he’s not normal, lovey, he’s not well. Darling, did he touch you under your clothes? Did he make you touch him? Did he – ’ Hell, Naomi wasn’t a baby, she would know the word – ‘Did he assault you?’

  Naomi burst into noisy tears and Nina could barely make out what she was saying. ‘No. But he kept pushing me around everywhere and shouting and then laughing. And at the first house he took photos of me and he said they were the before photos, and he was going to use them to catch some bad men who wanted me to look different afterwards – after what, Mummy, what did he mean?’

  Nina closed her eyes, hugging Naomi tightly. Christ, Paul could have returned here at any time, and who knows what would have happened to her lovely daughter if they hadn’t arrived here before him. Thank God for Emily and her efforts with the photos.

  David Mallony was standing in front of the window. ‘That’s what we’re going to find out, Naomi. The main thing is you’re safe. We’ll get you three out of here now, Nina. The police doctor will check Naomi soon.’

  Nina felt Naomi’s body relax a little. David sounded so authoritative and in control, just what they both needed right now. Sam was standing in the doorway, and he moved back as she led Naomi from the room.

  ‘Sam, thank you,’ she whispered, and he touched her cheek as she passed.

  Back at the police station, Naomi told what little she knew and then they were allowed to go back to Sam’s flat, well away from all frightening associations for Naomi. It was a good couple of hours before the wildness in the little girl’s eyes began to diminish. Sam phoned round their families and friends while the same police doctor who’d seen Nina the day before questioned Naomi closely and conducted a brief examination which involved some very personal questions but fell short of removing any of Naomi’s clothing. Afterwards Nina took the doctor into the kitchen to talk. The woman’s first words were what she wanted to hear.

  ‘She hasn’t been sexually assaulted,’ said the doctor. ‘She spoke quite openly about her experience and what Wright had said and done. She wouldn’t have been able to do that if anything had happened. It’s been a terrible shock for her, though. Naturally. Talk to her about it, but don’t force any confidences, take things at her pace. And it might be an idea to tell her a little about your own encounter with Wright; she doesn’t know anything about that yet and it would give her the feeling that the ordeal wasn’t hers alone. No gory details, though, play it down. I’ll leave some tranquillizers. You can each have one at bedtime and they’ll give you a good night’s sleep.’

  Nina went back to the living room, where Sam was with Naomi on the sofa, carefully sitting well round the corner. Naomi had a fat cushion clutched across her chest, but Nina noticed that the trembling had stopped.

  ‘Come on, you,’ she said, putting a hand on Naomi’s head. ‘Bath time. Sam doesn’t have any smellies that you’d like, but we’ll put a good squirt of my shower gel into the water and you can lie in the bubbles and I’ll tell you about Paul Wright locking me up in a horrible house all night.’

  The doctor was right. Hearing about Nina’s imprisonment jolted Naomi out of her own situation. They discussed mental illness and child abuse quite openly, and Nina’s last lingering fear vanished. Naomi’s behaviour in the bath was the same as always, and her body was unmarked. Nina left the girl drying herself with one of Sam’s massive bath towels.

  Sam was in the living room with a bottle. ‘Wine,’ he said, pouring her a large glass of red. ‘If anyone deserves it it’s you. Are you okay?’

  Nina sipped, then put the glass down and looked at him. He stepped across the room and took her in his arms, holding her tightly, and she could hear his heartbeat and the sound of his breathing. She fitted her forehead against his neck, feeling how their breathing coordinated. In, out. Slowly, she began to relax. Now if she could stay right here for about four months she would be okay again.

  ‘I feel like I’ve had the biggest fright of my life,’ she said.

  ‘Well, you’re not alone,’ said Sam. ‘And if I - ’

  ‘Stop snogging.’ Naomi marched into the room, her face still pale. ‘I’m hungry, I haven’t had anything to eat all day.’

  Nina went to hug Naomi. A hug could work wonders; she and Sam had just proved it.

  ‘Right,’ said Sam, rubbing his hands. ‘What would you like? I could make spaghetti, that’s quick, or pizza, that takes a bit longer, or we could send out for a curry or go for a hamburger – you choose.’

  ‘Chicken Tikka,’ said Naomi, her head on one side as she considered. ‘And chapatis and normal rice.’

  They ate at Sam’s breakfast bar, and Nina was glad to see the colour return to Naomi’s face. The safe routine of having something to eat was helping them both. Although it wasn’t really routine, thought Nina; they had never eaten with Sam, unless you counted the picnic by the river where Naomi had gone off in a strop. The bad mood was a thing of the past today; the little girl was listening to Sam’s account of the beaches he’d been to in Devon with an almost-smile on her face.

  ‘I want to go to the beach too. When can we go home, Mum?’ she said, mopping up the last of her sauce with a chapati. ‘Home to Arran, I mean.’

  ‘As soon as they let us,’ said Nina. ‘I’ll talk to David Mallony tonight. We’ll go on Sunday at the latest.’

  And how good it would be to be back on the island, back to fresh air and healthy living. Of course they would have to visit Emily first. And Cassie and Glen.

  ‘Good,’ said Naomi. ‘Will you be coming to see us sometime?’

&
nbsp; She was looking at Sam, and for the life of her Nina couldn’t read her daughter’s expression.

  ‘Maybe I will,’ he said, glancing at Nina. ‘I’ve never been to the islands. We’ll see what we can fix up, will we?’

  He gave Nina the ghost of a smile. ‘I’ll bring you the last lot of documents to sign.’

  Nina grinned back, feeling that it was forever and a day since she’d been able to grin at him and mean it. ‘You’ll be very welcome, Sam.’

  Was it her imagination or did his face fall slightly when she said that? It was clear that he was still hankering after a relationship, but she would need several gallons of fresh island air in her lungs before she’d be able to think thoughts like that. On the other hand, she could search for years and never find a man as supportive – and, yes, as fanciable – as Sam… A couple of deep breaths on Sunday should do the trick. She smiled again and his face brightened.

  Nina gave Naomi one of the doctor’s pills and sat by Sam’s spare room bed until the little girl fell asleep. Naomi’s face was flushed, and lying there in her Snoopy nightgown she was the very same child who slept in her little room under the farmhouse roof on Arran, lulled by the sounds of the sea. Nina heaved a sigh. They had survived. Everything was going to be all right.

  Sam was on the landline when she went back to the living room. He was talking to David Mallony, but the conversation was coming to a close.

  ‘They haven’t found Paul yet,’ said Sam, replacing the handset on its base. ‘David thinks he’s holed up somewhere on one of the estates. Apparently there’s a fair-sized paedophile network around here and Paul has contacts to them.’

  Nina shuddered. It was more than time to leave Bedford, leave David and his team to close the case.

  ‘We’ll go on Saturday. All I want to do now is get Naomi well away from here,’ she said. ‘The bad stuff won’t seem so immediate when we’re back home. Island life is so different.’