The Something Girl

by Jodi Taylor

  I twisted something at random. The windscreen wipers flicked back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

  ‘That’s quite mesmerising,’ said Thomas. ‘But try that one.’

  Two jets of water temporarily obscured the windscreen.

  ‘Oh good. We’re nice and clean now. Try another one.’

  Familiar music flooded through the car. Dum de dum de dum de dum. Dum de dum de dum dum.

  ‘That’s very catchy. What is it?’

  ‘The Archers.’

  ‘What are The Archers?’

  ‘It used to be billed as an everyday story of country folk, but now it’s a contemporary drama in a rural setting.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Is that really important right now?’

  ‘Can we go any faster?’

  ‘I still can’t see very much.’

  And then, suddenly, I could. A car appeared behind us, and I noticed they’d managed to switch their lights on. The beams were dazzling, illuminating everything around us. Sadly, none of it looked particularly familiar.

  ‘Isn’t it nice to meet a driver familiar with the concept of headlights,’ said Thomas.

  ‘Good for him,’ I muttered.

  They were really close now. I had to squint to avoid being blinded by the dazzle of lights in the mirror. And they were very, very, close. Too late, I remembered the second car. Wouldn’t it have been a good idea to have disabled it in some way? I really was the world’s most incompetent kidnap victim.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ soothed Thomas. ‘For a first attempt, you’re really not doing too badly at all.’

  They were right behind us now, and their lights were blinding. I was driving by Braille.

  ‘Jenny...’

  ‘Yes, I know. I know.’

  I pushed my foot down hard and the car leaped forwards. For a second we pulled away and then they were back behind us again. The inside of the car was flooded with light. I couldn’t see a thing for the dazzle. ‘They’re very close. Why are they so close?’

  ‘Jenny, hold tight.’

  I heard a bang from somewhere behind us, the car lurched, and the wheel twisted in my hands. I screamed. We veered all over the road. My foot slipped off the accelerator. I groped around and stamped hard, missing the accelerator and hitting the brake by mistake. Tyres screeched. Ours and theirs. They dropped back and the light faded.

  ‘Oh well done, Jenny. A very neat piece of driving.’

  I was shaking so hard I could barely grip the wheel.

  ‘Thomas, what’s happening?’

  ‘Well, I don’t want to worry you but I think they’re trying to run us into a ditch.’

  Was this what they had done to Julia? No time to think about that now. They were behind us again. Crowding in close. I felt a pressure behind us and the car tried to move of its own accord. Were they trying to push us off the road?

  I resisted the urge to brake and concentrated on trying to keep us on the road.

  ‘Find the lights,’ urged Thomas.

  There was some sort of stalk on the other side of the steering wheel. I twisted. The entire road opened up before us. Just like The Yellow Brick Road.

  ‘And then there was light,’ said Thomas. ‘Bravo Jenny. If I ever get kidnapped again you will definitely be my first choice for getaway driver.’

  ‘We didn’t escape Thomas. It was all too easy. The loft hatch, the rope ladder, the keys. They let me go. I think this was the plan all along. They’re going to run me off the road and make it look like an accident. What’s the betting this car is in my name? They got Aunt Julia to hire it. That’s why she was so afraid. That’s why she was trying to get away.’

  ‘It’s still going to look extremely suspicious, though. Do you think they...?

  ‘Can we discuss this later?’

  ‘Good idea. Now, Jenny, you need to get us out of here.’

  ‘I can barely drive,’ I shouted as the lights closed in again.

  ‘You’ve sat alongside Russell Checkland for three years now. Don’t tell me you haven’t learned anything at all.’

  Actually, that was true. That was very true.

  I took a deep breath, leaned back in the seat, tightened my grip on the wheel, channelled Russell Checkland, and put my foot down.

  The engine roared. I’d like to think that was because of something I’d done, but I suspected I was still in second gear. I didn’t dare look down to check. Besides, Russell’s Land Rover frequently made similar noises even without murderous relatives chasing him across country.

  Trees and hedges blurred past. And then the lights of a roadside cottage. And then a really sharp bend which we took far too quickly and I ended up on the wrong side of the road. Before I had time to feel the fear, we were out the other side and with a long, straight stretch of road ahead of us.

  ‘Now,’ said Thomas. ‘Go, Jenny. You mustn’t let them get past us. They’ll block the road and then we’ll really be in trouble because you can’t do a three-point turn, can you?’

  ‘Of course not,’ I said crossly, watching the needle cross through 60mph. ‘I can’t even reverse.’

  ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘Because it twists my ovaries.’

  For the first time I could ever remember, there was a stunned silence from the giant invisible golden horse next to me.

  ‘I’m sorry Jenny. What?’

  ‘Russell says...’

  ‘Ah. Say no more. I need to have a word with that boy.’

  I hunched forward over the wheel. I thought I knew where we were. There was another big bend coming up. I slowed and swung the wheel. Tyres squealed. Why didn’t someone report my dangerous driving? Where’s a speed trap when you need one? Yes, I thought so. We were on the outskirts of Rushford and I needed to slow down because just ahead there was a –

  Before I had time even to realise we were airborne, we hit the ground with a crash. I bit my tongue and something fell off the back shelf.

  ‘What happened? Were we fired from a gun?’

  ‘Hump-back.’

  ‘Whale?’

  ‘Bridge. Sorry about that.’

  ‘Well, on the plus side, still no airbag.’

  ‘What airbag?’

  ‘Never mind.’

  We flew past the double-glazing manufacturers which meant that any minute now...

  ‘Roundabout, Thomas. Which way?’

  ‘Right. No – you have to go left on a roundabout and take the third ... No, clockwise, Jenny! Too late. Oh well, I don’t suppose it matters much. Nothing coming, fortunately.’

  ‘Sorry. Sorry.’

  Suddenly, there were bright lights ahead of us. Rushford High Street. And it was crowded. Where had all these people come from?

  ‘Brake! Brake!’

  We surged forwards again. This was a very powerful car. ‘I’m sorry. I got my feet muddled up and stamped on the wrong pedal.’

  ‘It’s ABC. Accelerator, brake, clutch. How can you go wrong?’

  ‘Actually, its CBA.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter – the important thing is that the brake is in the middle.’

  ‘I’ll try to remember that. I can’t believe I’m being taught to drive by a horse.’

  ‘It can’t be any worse than Russell.’

  ‘How confident are you with that statement?’

  The engine was making the most terrible noises. Red lights were appearing on the dashboard.’

  ‘Which gear are you in?’

  I had other things to think about. ‘Gear?’

  ‘Never mind. It’s not our car.’

  ‘Is he still behind us?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What’s he doing?’

  He paused and then said, ‘He’s waiting for us to get through Rushford and head towards Frogmorton and then he’ll have another go on the other side. Where that bad bend is. Where Russell’s mother died.’

  Where are the police when you need them? They were around quick enough when we were stealing donke
ys and harbouring young runaways.

  The darkness of country lanes had been replaced by brightly lit shop windows. People were going home from work. They were queued up outside the chippy. Talking by their parked cars. Loading their shopping. Lovely normal things. Not one of them was fleeing down the high street pursued by their own murderous relatives.

  People turned to look at the noise our car was making. Those about to cross the road thought better of it and jumped back to the pavement for safety.

  And bloody, bloody Christopher was still right behind us.

  ‘There,’ said Thomas. ‘Over there. Look.’

  Sgt Bates and Mrs Balasana were standing on the steps of the police station. She must have been in to enquire about Bundle. I had forgotten about Bundle.

  ‘Slow down,’ said Thomas. ‘Middle pedal. Now pull in and park neatly behind that police car,’

  I very carefully mirrored, signalled and manoeuvred and drove straight into the back of the police car. Which shunted forwards into a shop doorway. The shop alarm went off. The police car alarm went off. And our airbag deployed.

  ‘Ah,’ said Thomas, in tones of deep satisfaction. ‘Finally.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  They took me to the hospital. I kept trying to tell them about Christopher and no one was taking any notice. I’d had a brief glimpse of him as he’d overtaken us at some speed and roared off down the high street.

  ‘Making his getaway,’ said Thomas.

  Which was more than we were doing. I was unsure whether I’d been arrested or not.

  Someone had called an ambulance which came flashing its way towards us and adding its own siren to that of the car and shop alarms.

  A small crowd had gathered.

  ‘Don’t say anything,’ said Thomas.

  ‘Chance would be a fine thing.’

  I confined myself to saying, ‘I want my husband. I want my husband,’ except it came out as ‘I wad by hubbud. I wad by hubbud,’ and then I shut up.

  People milled around all over the place, exclaiming and taking photos of us on their phones.

  Sgt Bates dealt with it all by shoving me into the ambulance and climbing in after me. Presumably someone else would sort out the chaos in our absence.

  Thomas came along for the ride. He’d never been in an ambulance before and was fascinated, trying to see everything at once.

  ‘What do you think this is for? What does that do? Oh, look at this, Jenny! Can we get them to put the siren on?’

  I sat with some sort of ice-pack on my face, saying nothing. I needed to speak to Russell. I needed to tell him not to let Joy out of his sight.

  Casualty seemed busy but reasonably quiet, although I was sure Russell’s arrival would soon put a stop to that.

  I was right. I’d barely been shown into a cubicle when there was a commotion at the reception desk. I could hear Russell’s voice shouting ‘Where’s my wife? I want my wife. Jenny? Jenny?’

  An unseen voice said, ‘If you could just take a seat, sir.’

  ‘Jenny?’

  The tone changed. ‘Look mate, sit down or I’ll call security.’

  Sgt Bates left the cubicle.

  I looked at Thomas. ‘I hope you’re satisfied.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. Shall we take bets on how many of us are locked up for the night?’

  ‘Jenny?’

  I raised my voice. ‘I’b id here, Ruddell.’

  He was getting closer. ‘Jenny?’

  ‘Ruddell?’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, it’s like one of those musicals where people call to each other from one mountain peak to the next.’ He began to hum the Indian Love Call.

  ‘Jenny, where are you?’

  ‘Here.’

  I heard the scrape of curtain rings and a scream from the next cubicle.

  I heard Andrew say, ‘I’m so sorry, madam. I’ll remove him at once.’ There were sounds of someone being ejected from a cubicle.

  ‘Good grief.’

  ‘Ruddell, I’b id here.’

  ‘He’s not coming in here,’ said the doctor.

  The curtain was flung aside.

  ‘Jenny!’

  ‘Oh, Ruddell.’

  I was enveloped in a massive hug.

  ‘Ow. Bide by dode.’

  He held me at arm’s length. ‘What happened? What’s wrong with your face? Where have you been? You’ve been gone for ages.’

  ‘Ad by ribth.’

  ‘For God’s sake. Look at you. What have you been doing to yourself?’

  ‘Airbag.’

  ‘Oh. Yes. That would do it.’ A belated thought took him. ‘Whose airbag?’

  ‘I dode doe.’

  ‘What have I told you about getting into cars with strange men?’

  ‘As if you haven’t been getting into a car with a strange man every day of your married life,’ muttered Thomas.

  ‘I didun. Da car wad ebty.’

  ‘So why did you get in?’

  ‘I thtole it.’

  ‘What did you do that for? You can’t drive?’

  ‘Yeth I cad,’ I said, stung.

  ‘Will you please get these people out of here,’ said the doctor to Sgt Bates, who was standing quietly and listening to every word and probably eliciting far more information than from a formal interview. I made a note to be careful what I said. So far I’d admitted to stealing a car...

  ‘TWOCing,’ said Thomas, who watches too much television.

  ...driving without a licence, driving with reckless endangerment, having an accident in said stolen vehicle and God knows what else and I’d only said a few sentences. Talking is overrated.

  ‘Whad beeble?’ I said, looking around Russell who had effectively been blocking my view, to see, as well as Sgt Bates, Andrew, Tanya, Mrs Crisp, Sharon, and Kevin, all standing behind him.

  ‘Just a minute,’ said the sergeant, ‘I want to hear what this lot have to say for themselves.’

  ‘Not in here,’ said the doctor sharply, and I could see his point. The tiny cubicle now held an unbelievable number of people, together with a bulky police sergeant and an invisible golden horse. Yet another instance of the NHS buckling under the strain.

  I clutched Russell’s arm. ‘Whode ... lookig after Joy?’

  ‘The Braithwaites.’

  Christopher was out there somewhere.

  I tried to wiggle my eyebrows to indicate that Christopher was still out there, somewhere, but it hurt too much. I had to content myself with saying meaningfully, ‘Will she ... be all righd?’

  He caught my flying hands. ‘Jenny, there’s Martin, Monica, their two enormous sons – including the one back from college for some as yet undisclosed but certainly disreputable reason – Fiona, four sheepdogs, two cats, three rabbits, a fluctuating number of gerbils, two horses, and countless sheep between her and any danger she might find herself in. She’ll be fine. So tell me what happened. Why were you in someone’s car? You weren’t leaving me were you? You promised you’d never leave me.’

  Those listening might have thought he was joking, but I could see his face.

  ‘I’b dot ... leebing you. Why would I leeb you?’

  ‘Let me count the ways,’ said Andrew.

  ‘Shut up, Andrew. Why are you here?’

  ‘You gibbered at me down the phone. I came to see what was going on. Tanya came along to keep everyone in line and make sure no one says anything incriminating.’

  I persevered. ‘Why would I ... leeb you?’

  ‘Well, you just disappeared, Jenny. You don’t do that sort of thing.’

  I could hear another familiar voice drawing ever closer. Mrs Balasana had followed us here.

  I clutched at Russell’s sleeve, and whispered. ‘Buddle dead.’

  He looked down at me, his face giving nothing away and then nodded. ‘Leave it to me.’

  The same voice said, ‘You can’t go in there,’ the curtain scraped back and Mrs Balasana stood in the entrance, dishev
elled, distraught and in tears. She was obviously desperate to know about Bundle, and while I’m sure she was at least as single-minded as Russell, she had much better manners.

  ‘Mrs Checkland, I saw it happen. Are you all right?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Did you find her?’

  All right, not that much better manners.

  I looked at Russell, who looked at Mrs Crisp. Some sort of unspoken communication passed between them and she said, ‘Why don’t you come with me, Mrs Balasana. Let’s see if we can find you a coffee.’

  They disappeared.

  ‘That’s better,’ said Thomas, ‘but do you realise there are still eight people in this cubicle. We should apply to the Guinness Book of Records.’

  ‘Thomas, are you even pretending to take this seriously?’

  ‘No, of course I’m not. Who could? Oh, listen. Do you hear what I hear?’

  On the other side of the curtain, I could hear Francesca demanding to know the whereabouts of Russell Checkland.

  The same voice said again, ‘You can’t go in there,’ but with much less conviction this time.

  ‘No,’ said the doctor firmly. ‘Enough. Mrs Checkland may remain. Everyone else out. And you too, Sergeant, please.’

  They all drifted slowly out into the corridor and stood outside the cubicle. Russell held the curtain back so he could talk to me and I could see what was going on.

  Unfortunately, what was going on was that Daniel and Francesca were hurrying down the corridor towards us.

  Francesca had brought the place to a standstill. She screamed when she saw my face. They had obviously been on their way out to an important event. She was wearing a white evening dress that sparkled under the harsh hospital lighting, together with the diamonds Daniel had bought for her last year. With her red hair piled high on her head she looked like a magnificent glittering candle. She was actually wearing a tiara. Like a duchess. Everything stopped dead. People just stared. Homeless people woke up. Some of the more confused may have mistaken her for an angel.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ demanded Russell, by no means pleased to see her. Daniel and I exchanged small smiles. We loved it when they argued.

  ‘You were shouting at me down the phone. I couldn’t understand you.

  Sgt Bates, who surely by now deserved some sort of police medal, began again, perfectly calmly and pleasantly. I was not deceived. My face was so bruised she could easily start with the telephone directories and no one would ever know.