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The HUM: The complete novel

Page 10

by Michael Christopher Carter


  A pang of hunger grumbled in her belly and she reluctantly left her nest to search out snacks. Fortunately Stella’s larder had a choice of Carbohydrate laden munchies bought especially for Carys.

  Slumping back on the sofa with a thwump, relief at her parents’ arrival tomorrow was tempered with anxiety at her decision to speak out against her perpetrator. But that’s what he was. And what he’d done; what he’d attempted to do, sickened her.

  She could only guess at how it might affect her future relationships. She decided not to think about it further. Tomorrow her parents would pick her up and dust her off. They would take responsibility and ensure what needed to be done, would be done. She would feel safe. Until then she had only to occupy her thoughts. Nothing bad could happen to her in the comfort of Stella’s comfy lounge.

  She didn’t see the end of the film. When she was awoken by Stella wanting to discuss dinner options, she realised she’d slept away most of the afternoon. Stella thought a takeaway might prove a nice comforting treat for her young charge.

  They decided upon Chinese. After a brief discussion, Stella phoned their order through to Norman and settled back down. When Carys got up to go and collect it, she realised what last night’s ordeal had done to her fragile mind. The front door became a barrier she couldn’t cross.

  Standing with the latch in her hand for a long minute before retreating tearfully to the sofa again, she slumped down, a lump of raw emotion preventing her from speaking.

  Stella understood. After a hug and comforting words, she went to collect the food herself, praying Geraint and Diane could rebuild their little princess.

  After eating, Carys and Stella settled to watch Saturday night television. When bedtime arrived, Carys was reluctant to go. Spending so much of the day asleep already, she wasn’t in the least bit tired, just agitated. Stella stayed up as long as she could, but was persuaded to go up (with assurances from Carys she’d be fine) after jolting awake three times. Pecking her goodnight, she stumbled sleepily upstairs.

  Carys gave up on sleep and settled for a night of cable television instead. But jolting awake, she had to admit to drifting off watching something which had now morphed into a ‘sellavision’ paid commercial presentation: some amazing car polish you could set fire to (!?), when Stella woke her with a cup of tea and the offer of a bacon sandwich.

  She hadn’t finished eating when the troubled figures of her parents entered her view. Swallowing the last mouthful of dry crust and bacon rind was out of the question as she choked with emotion. Forcing down her food with the help of a glug of cold tea, she leapt to her feet and threw her arms around Diane.

  Cuddles from Stella had been a comfort, but the raw emotion which sprang forth in the arms of her mum was purging. Elemental sobs sent shudders through the pair as they clung onto one another. Pulling away, she rubbed her eyes and smiled. “Hi,” the first word she’d said in five minutes.

  Perching on the end of the couch, she waited. What would happen now they were here? Geraint placed a gentle hand on her head and sat beside her.

  “I’ve arranged for your statement to be taken, this morning," he said. “So if you want to get showered and dressed, we’ll get down there.”

  Carys nodded, pushing herself from her precarious perch straight away. In her absence, Stella filled the pair in on what she knew of Carys’s night of abuse.

  When it was time to head to the police station, a knot tightened in Carys’s stomach at the thought of leaving the house. With a sigh, she clutched onto her mam’s arm. It was daytime. Her mum and dad were with her. She’d be fine.

  Huddled in the back of the car, she felt the trembling before she saw it, but holding a quavering hand in front of her face reminded her how nervous she was. The police station was minutes away. They’d be there too soon. How could she calm herself enough to talk?

  As they entered the station, Geraint’s official presence reassured. She had to persuade no-one. Her dad had already done that. She took a gulp of air and let it out slowly.

  The desk sergeant knew Geraint and why they were there. He indicated with various winks and head movements that he’d see to them in a minute

  “They’re on your side,” Geraint assured. “Just tell them exactly what happened. What you remember of it. They don’t want arseholes like him getting away with it any more than I do.”

  A door opened a short distance away and a pleasant looking uniformed officer popped his head round to invite them in. The three Ellis’s entered the small interview room and sat down. The police officer introduced himself to Carys, but Geraint and Diane were already familiar.

  “I’m Sergeant Collin Freeman. A friend of your dad’s.” he sounded confident and authoritative. Carys settled down and prepared to go through the events of Friday night.

  “Just tell me in your own words,” Collin invited. “Take your time.”

  Carys described the night in The Green Man, omitting the humming noise and the brief disagreement with the girls. She didn’t see the relevance and was sure Sergeant Freeman would agree.

  “I was feeling really drowsy. And I’m sure it was down to more than drink. Looking back, I reckon he drugged the drinks he bought me.”

  Collin looked up sympathetically, then back down to write Carys’s statement.

  “He drove me out of town, I think towards Nuthampstead. Well, I kind of presumed, because then I still thought he was just giving me a lift home. I don’t live in Nuthampstead anymore of course, well, anyway...” she babbled.

  Staring at her shoes, unable to maintain eye contact, she mumbled, “We ended up in a field… That’s when he...”

  Collin looked up at the silence. He smiled and nodded. “This isn’t going to be pleasant, especially in front of your parents, but it is important to tell me everything.”

  Carys coughed. “Can I get a glass of water, please?” she whispered. After Sergeant Freeman returned with a cup of tepid chlorine water, Carys surprised herself when she started talking, it was difficult to stop. She described how Stephen had no trouble holding her down; how he’d exposed himself to her shouting at her that she owed him because of all the drinks he’d bought her

  “He would have raped me if we hadn’t been interrupted.”

  “And did you say ‘no’ at any time?” the policeman asked.

  Carys tried to think back. She meant no. She definitely meant no. But had she actually said it?

  “I... I don’t really remember,” she stammered. “As I said. I think I was drugged.”

  The Sergeant smiled with a comforting nod before he spoke. “You did admit you’d had plenty to drink, didn’t you?”

  She nodded but added defensively “I had drunk a fair bit, but not more than I’ve had before.” She shot an embarrassed look at her parents before continuing.

  “Alcohol doesn’t normally affect me. This was definitely different, without a doubt.”

  “What are you playing at, Collin?!” Geraint intervened. “She’s not lying!”

  Collin put two placatory hands in the air.

  “I’m not suggesting she is, Geraint. But you know how it is. He’ll just deny it, say it was consensual...” He paused before looking directly at Carys

  “Thinking back,” he said “Is there any way Stephen could have believed you wanted him to...? I mean you don’t remember saying no, do you?”

  “No!!” Carys slammed her palm on the table. “If he thought I wanted him, why did I try to hit him? Why did he hold me down?”

  Sergeant Freeman had no answer but continued with his questioning. “How did you get home?”

  “I don’t know.” she muttered blankly. “I remember bright lights. Farmers shooting rabbits with big spotlights on their roof, I think. I saw figures approaching the car, but by then the drugs had taken effect and I was unconscious.”

  “When I woke up in bed with no memory of getting there, I assumed the farmers brought me home. I must’ve roused enough to tell them where I lived and get myself upstairs to
bed. Or maybe he, (she still didn’t feel comfortable saying his name) told them. It’s all that makes sense to be honest,” she said in her Welsh accent.

  “Good, good,” said Collin. “You’re absolutely right. I just wanted to be sure.” he turned the written statement around for Carys to peruse and sign. “Make sure that’s all correct and we’ll bring him in for questioning.”

  Carys signed and the three of them stood to leave.

  “I know Stephen. He’s good at sport, runs with my Nathan,” he said. And then, aware that sounded like he was supporting him, added, “Arrogant little shit!” Shaking everyone’s hand, “I’ll keep you informed how we get on,” he said with a reassuring smile.

  “How do you fancy some lunch?” Geraint offered, raising his eyebrows expectantly. With enthusiastic nods from Diane and Carys, He pulled into the car park of The Banyers Hotel where billboards advertised a very reasonable Sunday Carvery. With full plates and glasses, they huddled together and awaited Stephen Holmes’s fate.

  “We’ll cwtch down at Stella’s for tonight,” Geraint said between mouthfuls. “We can head off in the morning then. Get you moved to sunny Pembrokeshire, is it!”

  Carys had forgotten her eagerness for the move home to Wales. It had never felt like home here, even though it was a lovely place, and Royston a very attractive period town with an interesting history. Every time they crossed the bridge to visit family in Barry Island, she had been at her happiest, apart from the first three years of her life in the long terraced houses on the steep hill with its lovely sea-views.

  Her parents hadn’t wanted to move to England. It had been a career move, not just a move across Great Britain. Diane had been the most enthusiastic, but when they’d seen the quaint thatched cottages and large gardens the Home Counties villages offered, they had all become smitten. Little did they understand how much they’d miss the open ocean views and mountains.

  Carys had always adored the ocean. And Barry Island’s funfair and amusements had been a reliable source of joy as a child. She loved that her dad had grown up there too. It gave a shared connection to both their roots. The locals sounded like her and Geraint as well. She liked that.

  When they arrived back at Stella’s, it was with an animated rhubarb of move related chatter. The main reason for Diane and Geraint being there, practically forgotten. They wouldn’t be able to forget for long.

  Stella left to answer a hefty knocking and ringing at the front door. Following her into the lounge on her return was Sergeant Freeman. He smiled at the group, but without the warmth they might have expected.

  “I have some news,” he announced. “Two of my constables visited the home of Stephen Holmes this afternoon.” He paused and straightened his shoulders, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “Unfortunately, they were not able to arrest him as planned: because he wasn’t there. He hasn’t been seen since Friday night.”

  The Ellis’s and Stella didn’t appreciate the significance of the information. Collin continued with his explanation.

  “His mother is frantic and has now registered him as a ‘missing person’.”

  The Ellis’s and Stella gasped. Peering at their frowning ashen faces, Sergeant Freeman was happy to give full disclosure.

  “We have begun a search. Under the circumstances we thought it pertinent.” He directed the next statement to the room but mainly at Carys.

  “We have recovered the car,” he announced.

  “It was in the field as you described. But there were no tyre tracks, other than those of the entry to the field by Stephen’s vehicle. The bright lights you saw must not have been from a land rover as you suggested.”

  Carys thought briefly before concluding, “It must have been parked in the road then.”

  “We considered that. Whilst the floodlights on top of farmer’s vehicles are dazzling, the car was a good distance from the gateway and had turned a corner. We have concluded it to be an unlikely occurrence.”

  Carys shrugged, not understanding what he was getting at.

  “We are wondering whether you think it might have been torches. Whilst there’s no tyre tracks, there are footprints around the car.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought so, but given what you’re saying, I suppose torches makes more sense. Maybe one of those million candle ones. They must be pretty intense, right?” she answered.

  “Indeed,” Collin agreed. “The footprints don’t come from anywhere.” He frowned at the perplexing notion before carrying on. “We are imagining a pursuit around the vehicle. Do you think you may have regained consciousness and been involved in a chase?”

  “I don’t think so. But I suppose as I don’t remember, I can’t be absolutely certain.”

  “Exactly,” he agreed. “It’s very important that you try to remember. You see... We’ve found blood at the scene. As you don’t have any cuts on you, we’re expecting it might be Stephen’s blood. We’re waiting for confirmation, but it’s obviously probable.”

  The room sat in stunned silence. Colin examined the whorl of Stella’s lounge carpet with unhealthy interest before glancing at them all in turn. He cleared his throat and delivered the next statement staring at Carys.

  “The situation is this: We have a boy missing. We have an abandoned vehicle. We have blood. You were the last person to see him before he disappeared.”

  A sudden realisation at where this was heading drained any remaining colour from Carys’s taut face.

  “The last people to see him were whoever was holding the torches!”

  “You’re right. And we’ve questioned the farmer whose field it is. He and his family have confirmed they weren’t out shooting rabbits.” Carys’s mouth opened and closed but no words formed from her delicate lips.

  Collin let a thin line of a smile enhance his dour continence briefly. “Of course, that doesn’t rule out other people with torches. They may have harmed Stephen. Then again, it might not even be Stephen’s blood. But at the moment you are the last confirmed sighting of Stephen, and by your own admission you don’t remember what happened. You don’t know how you got home and you don’t know where Stephen is.”

  “What are you saying, Collin?” Geraint demanded.

  Collin softened into a smile.

  “I’m not saying Carys has done anything wrong,” he began to defend, “but we have a protocol to follow. You know that, Geraint.”

  “And what’s that?” a nervous Carys asked. Sergeant Collin Freeman took a deep breath.

  “Until we get more information, or until you remember what happened,” he paused, staring at Geraint, Diane and Carys slowly in turn... “We have to ask you not to leave town.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Appealing to

  a guilty conscience

  “That isn’t going to work,” Geraint protested. “We have to set off tomorrow. Carys is moving down to Wales with us.”

  “You’re going to have to delay your plans, I’m afraid.”

  “Why? Come on Collin. You know Carys hasn’t done anything.”

  Collin didn’t want to offend his friend and colleague but knew nothing of the sort. “You understand I have no choice but to follow protocol. There’d be complaints. Complaints I’d have to agree with, might I say.

  “Imagine, we allow the last known contact of a missing local sports hero, whose last known blood stained whereabouts were - by her own admission - with Carys, because she’s the daughter of a police officer! The press would have a field day!”

  He realised he’d become a little too animated. Geraint and Diane bristled with animosity. Carys stared ahead in shock.

  “I’m not suggesting,” Collin added, looking at the three of them, “that Carys is guilty of anything at all. Just that we cannot afford to be seen assuming her innocence based on her parentage. You do appreciate that, I’m sure?”

  He made his leave. In his opinion they should be extremely grateful he hadn’t arrested Carys then and there. He didn’t suspect her of any wilful
wrong doing. Not that he was willing to admit at any rate. But the truth was, she couldn’t remember what happened after Stephen had exposed himself.

  Well aware of Diane’s ‘episodes,’ he knew she could be aggressive and violent when she was unwell. The sweetest, kindest lady you could hope to meet when she was well. Not dis-similar to her daughter, he nodded to himself.

  And didn’t Diane always struggle to remember what she’d done in her unwell state of mind? Geraint had been really shaken by some of the things he’d come into work and told him.

  Tapping his pursed lips, he frowned. Carys’s story fit perfectly with a crime perpetrated by the mentally ill. The stress of the situation could easily have triggered a dark side of her, making her lash out in self-defence. She looked a strong, robust girl. He’d seen what fear could do to someone. The adrenaline could have made her superhuman.

  It was too early to be drawing conclusions, but one thing he was certain of: there was a lot more investigation needed before he’d allow Carys Ellis to go anywhere. They were very lucky indeed that he hadn’t arrested her. It was a fact that he expected to change.

  The Ellis’s were speechless, sitting motionless in Stella’s lounge. Geraint accepted with a rueful shake of his head that Collin had been right. It wasn’t just protocol, Carys could be in serious trouble. Until now, Stephen Holmes’s whereabouts hadn’t been a consideration.

  “So, what do you think ‘av ‘appened to ‘im, Cariad?” Geraint’s Welsh accent, stronger in his time of distress especially having mixed with his countrymen for several months.

  Carys shrugged. She’d hated Stephen, but now desperately wanted him to be okay. Partly, mostly, because she wouldn’t wish that sort of harm on her worst enemy. But also, she had to admit, because if he had met a bloody demise, she couldn’t be sure Sergeant Freeman’s not-so-subtle accusations weren’t absolutely spot on.

  Trembling turned to shaking as she looked to Diane for comfort, “I’m scared, Mam,” she quivered.

  “Don’t worry, chicken. He’ll turn up safe and sound. You know what teenage boys are like. He probably went on a bender after you spurned his advances. Lick his wounds.”

 

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