Run

by Mandasue Heller

  ‘You’re not a wuss,’ Chrissie countered. ‘You’re just too loyal for your own good.’

  ‘Yeah, well, it was misguided where he’s concerned,’ Ben said miserably. ‘I felt sorry for him when we were kids, and I guess I kind of took it upon myself to look out for him because I knew no one else cared. But I’ll never make that mistake again, believe me. He took me for a mug, and I’m ashamed that I went along with his lies for so long. But I’m completely done with him now. From here on in, it’s just you, me and Dylan.’

  ‘And Leanne,’ said Chrissie.

  ‘Of course,’ he agreed. ‘That goes without saying.’

  Chrissie turned back to Leanne. ‘What did the police say? They’re not going to give him bail, are they?’

  ‘Not if they can help it,’ said Leanne. ‘The detective who took my statement said he’s determined to take this to trial. If he can make it happen, he reckons Jake will get at least twenty years.’

  ‘God willing,’ Ben said bitterly, taking a swig of his drink.

  ‘But what if he doesn’t?’ Chrissie asked.

  ‘I don’t know?’ Leanne admitted, shivering when a wave of apprehension passed over her. ‘If Jake finds out what I told them . . .’ She paused and breathed in deeply before continuing: ‘He said he’d kill me if I betrayed him, and made me swear on our baby’s soul that I wouldn’t. I’ll never forgive myself for that.’

  ‘You had no choice, so don’t feel guilty,’ Chrissie said softly. ‘They’re only words, and God and the baby know you didn’t mean them.’

  Leanne nodded and blinked back the tears that were stinging her eyes.

  ‘So what happens now?’ Chrissie asked. ‘Please tell me you’re not going back to the apartment?’

  ‘Only to pick up my stuff.’

  ‘Okay, Ben will take you so you can get everything out in one go. And then you’re coming to stay here with us.’

  ‘Thanks, but I need to get away for a bit,’ said Leanne. ‘At least until I know if it’s going to court. I don’t want to be around if they let him out. Even if they keep him in, I don’t trust him. He’s got all those thugs working for him, so what’s to stop him from sending them after me?’

  ‘I can’t see that happening,’ Chrissie said. ‘They’d have to be really stupid to get involved, knowing what he’s accused of.’

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ Ben said ominously. ‘I had the . . . shall we say pleasure of working with them while Jake was away, and I wouldn’t put anything past them. Or him.’

  ‘So where will you go?’ Chrissie’s eyes were dark with concern as she peered at Leanne. ‘You will phone me, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course I will.’ Leanne reached over and squeezed her hand. ‘But if it does go to trial, I might have to go into hiding, because they’ve told me I’ll be called as a witness. They’ll probably call you, too,’ she added guiltily. ‘I told them what you said about Jake insinuating that he’d killed my dad. Sorry.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me, I’ll gladly testify against the bastard,’ Chrissie said vehemently.

  ‘Me too,’ added Ben. Then, turning to Leanne, he said, ‘I don’t suppose this’ll be of any help, but my cousin got married a few months back. It was actually his stag party we were at the night you and Jake met up.’

  ‘What’s your point?’ Chrissie asked impatiently.

  ‘He inherited his mum’s house,’ Ben explained. ‘But he doesn’t live in it, because him and his wife emigrated to New Zealand a couple of weeks after the wedding. It’s in Bury, which isn’t so far from here that Leanne would feel cut off; and it’s still fully furnished, ’cos our Scott couldn’t bring himself to get rid of his mum’s stuff. Best of all, Jake knows absolutely nothing about it.’

  ‘Wow,’ Chrissie murmured. ‘That sounds perfect. What do you think, Leanne?’

  ‘It’s definitely worth considering,’ Leanne said thoughtfully. ‘Would you be able to contact your cousin to ask if it’d be okay for me to stay there, Ben?’

  ‘I don’t need to. He left his keys with me so I could keep an eye on the place.’

  ‘And Jake definitely doesn’t know about it?’ Chrissie asked. ‘There’s no chance your cousin could have told him about it at the stag do?’

  ‘No chance.’ Ben shook his head. ‘His mum was still alive at that time, so it wasn’t an issue. Anyway, Jake was far too busy copping off with Sally to be bothered talking to any of my mates that night. To be honest, I don’t even know why I invited him in the first place. It wasn’t like he knew any of them. I only asked him because thought I should, ’cos he hadn’t been back in Manchester long, and I was his only mate. More fool me, eh?’

  ‘You’re no more of a fool than me,’ said Chrissie. ‘I got taken in by him as well. And he must be good, ’cos it takes a lot to pull the wool over my eyes.’

  ‘I’m the biggest fool of us all, ’cos I let myself fall for him hook, line and sinker, even though my instincts told me at the start that he was lying about Sally,’ Leanne said wearily. ‘If only I’d listened to them, none of this would have happened.’

  ‘Well, the sooner you get your stuff out of his place, the sooner you’ll be able to start picking yourself up,’ said Chrissie, glancing at the clock as she spoke. ‘Why don’t you go now? I’ll make up the spare bed for you while you’re gone. Then, tomorrow morning, we can drive over to Bury to take a look at that house.’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ Leanne said, rising wearily to her feet. ‘New day, fresh start, and all that.’

  ‘For all of us,’ Chrissie said as they walked out into the hall. ‘We’ve just got to keep our fingers crossed that Jake doesn’t worm his way out of this.’

  ‘He won’t, not if that detective’s got anything to do with it,’ said Leanne. ‘And if I have to face him in court to make sure he pays for what he did to my dad and your Tina, then I will. But after that, I never want to see him again for as long as I live.’

  Epilogue

  Ice cracked underfoot as Jake walked quickly along the road. Winter had hit early and hard that year, and the freezing wind was battering everything in its path. His padded jacket and gloves were protecting him from the worst of it, and he’d pulled his woollen hat down low and his collar up high to conceal his face. But that last precaution hadn’t really been necessary, because no lights were showing in any of the windows of the houses he was passing, which told him that the residents were all dead to the world, oblivious to what was about to happen.

  He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she realized he’d found her. He wished he could prolong the agony and really make her suffer. But he couldn’t afford to indulge himself. He’d been on the run for two days now after arranging for his boys to hijack the van taking him to court, and the police would be going all out to find him, so this had to be an in-and-out job; no wasting time, no messing around.

  The house he was looking for was conveniently situated at the end of the terraced row, and the adjoining hovel had recently been vandalized, judging by the broken glass littering the pavement beneath its boarded-up window. The front door was hanging off its hinges, and Jake picked up the acrid scent of stale smoke as he approached. A glance inside as he passed revealed heaps of bin bags stacked against the fire-scorched walls, and he sneered when he saw the blood-caked syringes that had spilled out of the one nearest to the door.

  Oh, she must love it round here, he thought smugly. Reduced to living alongside dirty scummy junkies. Serves her right, that does; serves her fucking right.

  A narrow alleyway separated the block from the windowless side wall of a derelict tyre warehouse. Confident that he hadn’t been spotted, Jake made his way to the gate at the rear of the house. It was locked, and jagged shards of glass were embedded along the top of the wall that enclosed the backyard. But he wasn’t about to let a little thing like that deter him. He’d come prepared.

  The towel-wrapped hammer made a dull thudding noise as he quickly flattened a section of the glass.
When he’d made a wide enough gap to safely climb over, he stepped into the shadows and waited to see if the noise had roused anybody. No lights came on, so he hauled himself over the wall and dropped quietly down into the pitch-dark yard.

  Metal bars protected the windows here, but no such measures had been taken to secure the door. It didn’t even have a mortice lock, which would have made his task more difficult, just a flimsy old Yale that gave little resistance when he gently pushed the door. Easing the hammer forks between the door and the frame, he gave a couple of tugs, and almost fell inside when it easily popped open.

  An alarm rang out as soon as he stepped into the kitchen. Aware that somebody might hear it and come to investigate, he rushed through the hall and darted up the stairs.

  As Jake had guessed, Leanne was in the front bedroom, and he smiled when he pushed open the door and saw her lying there; her beautiful face bathed in the faint orange glow from the street lamp outside the window. Her hair was fanned out on the pillow, and he could hear her breathing softly as he walked quietly over to the bed. She looked surprisingly relaxed, he thought. In her shoes, he’d have been sleeping upright with one eye open and a machete in each hand. But the bitch obviously thought she’d got away with it and he wouldn’t bother coming after her.

  More fool her.

  The alarm hadn’t roused her, but she must have sensed his presence because her eyes suddenly snapped open and a whimper of terror escaped her lips when she saw him standing over her.

  ‘How . . . how did you find me?’ she croaked, shrinking back when she saw the hammer in his hand.

  ‘It’s amazing how fast people spill their guts when you’re torturing someone they love,’ he said, leaning over her and staring down into her eyes.

  ‘What do you want?’ she cried, flinching when his hot breath peppered her cheeks.

  ‘You fucked me over, so now I’m going to fuck you up,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘Just like I warned you I would.’

  ‘I didn’t say anything,’ Leanne spluttered. ‘I swear I didn’t. I – I—’

  ‘Shut your lying mouth!’ Jake seized her by the throat and forced her head down into the pillow. ‘I know exactly what you said, you back-stabbing bitch. Did you really think they wouldn’t let me read your statement?’

  ‘Jake, please don’t do this,’ she whimpered. ‘Just go. I promise I won’t tell them you were here.’

  ‘And why would I believe a word you say?’ he sneered. ‘You’ve already proved you can’t be trusted. And to think I would have done anything for you. Anything,’ he repeated through gritted teeth. ‘I treated you like a fucking queen, and you repaid me by trying to get me banged up for fucking life.’

  Leanne’s eyes were bulging from the pressure of his grip. ‘The police will be on their way,’ she gasped, clawing at his hands with her nails in her desperation to get him off. ‘The alarm goes straight through to the s-station.’

  ‘Is that right?’ He smiled coldly. ‘Best get on with it then, hadn’t I?’

  He straightened up and raised the hammer above his head with both hands, his gaze never leaving hers. But just as he was about to bring it down, his eyes widened, and Leanne screamed in horror when blood sprayed over her face and soaked the duvet cover.

  Jake dropped the hammer and clawed at the handle of the knife that was embedded in his neck, but the blade was in too deep.

  Shaking wildly, her hands curled into fists, Brenda Riley stood over him when he fell to the floor and glared down at him as he thrashed weakly at her feet.

  ‘My Norman was right about you – you are a cocky little shit!’ she snarled. ‘You might have got away with what you did to him, but you will not take my girl away from me.’

  ‘Oh, Mum!’ Leanne sobbed, scrambling out of the bed and running to her mother as the sound of approaching sirens filled the air. ‘Thank God you were here!’

  ‘Well, I wasn’t going to leave you on your own with him on the loose, was I?’ Brenda said, hugging her tightly as blue lights began to strobe their faces.

  ‘Police!’ a voice called out loudly from the hallway below a few seconds later.

  ‘Up here,’ Brenda yelled. ‘But you’d best fetch a body bag,’ she added coolly. ‘This bastard might have given you lot the slip, but I was buggered if he was getting past me.’

  RUN

  From the back streets of Manchester to the nightclubs and penthouses of the beautiful people, Mandasue Heller knows the world she writes. Born in Warrington, she moved to Manchester, where she found the inspiration for her novels, in the 1980s: she spent ten years living in the infamous Hulme Crescents and was a professional singer for many years before turning her hand to writing.

  She has three children, three grandchildren, and still writes and records songs with her musician partner, Wingrove, between books.

  By Mandasue Heller

  The Front

  Forget Me Not

  Tainted Lives

  The Game

  The Charmer

  The Club

  Shafted

  Snatched

  Two-Faced

  The Driver

  Lost Angel

  Broke

  Respect

  Afraid

  Acknowledgements

  All my love, as always, to Win, Michael, Andrew, Azzura, Marissa, Lariah, Antonio, Ava, Amber, Martin, Jade, Reece, Kyro, Diaz, Nats, Dan, Toni, Auntie Doreen, Lorna, Cliff, Chris, Glen, and Win’s family.

  Love also to Norman, Kimberley, Betty and Ronnie, Rowetta, Katy and John, Martina, Jac and Brian, Ann, Hilary and Carolyn.

  Massive thanks to Sheila Crowley, Wayne Brookes, and the team at Pan Mac.

  And a very special thank you to Liz, Dr Sue Burke, Judith, Sue, Dawn, Chris, Ann, Sylvia, Barbara, Rick, Fleur, the Bass’s, the staff at St Rocco’s, and my mum’s church family. You were all amazing during Mum’s illness, and I can’t thank you enough.

  Lastly, thanks to my friends and readers on FB and T. Your lovely messages always brighten my day.

  First published in 2017 by Macmillan

  This electronic edition published 2017 by Macmillan

  an imprint of Pan Macmillan

  20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR

  Associated companies throughout the world

  www.panmacmillan.com

  ISBN 978-1-4472-8835-0

  Copyright © Mandasue Heller 2017

  Cover images: Model © Colin Thomas, background images © Taketan/Getty Images.

  The right of Mandasue Heller to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Pan Macmillan does not have any control over, or any responsibility for, any author or third-party websites referred to in or on this book.

  You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

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