Sticks and Stones

by Jo Jakeman

  ‘Help!’ I cried. ‘Help!’ I knew no one would hear us. How could they? It was one of the reasons it had been such a good place to keep Phillip locked up in the first place.

  Naomi and I swapped places and she began hitting at the lock with the heel of her hand. I was about to tell her that it was pointless, this door was as strong as any door had a right to be, when we heard the clatter of the key falling from the lock on the other side of the door. We looked at each other.

  ‘What was that?’ she asked, though her eyes were wide with hope. Hoping that it was what she thought it was.

  I put the side of my face on the floor, but I couldn’t see anything.

  ‘Turn the light off!’

  Naomi struggled upright and flipped the switch. A thin blade of light cut the door from the floor, and in the middle of the shaft – a long, narrow metal key.

  ‘Yes!’ My fingers couldn’t fit under the door. The gap was too narrow and the key too far away. I got to my feet, put the light back on and ran back down the stairs.

  ‘We need something thin and curved to slide beneath the door to hook the key under. Can you see anything, Ruby?’

  I cast about, but there was nothing but blankets, pillows, dust and gloom.

  ‘There has to be something.’

  The key was tantalisingly close, and I had to get to it.

  ‘Thin and curved,’ Ruby muttered, looking about her.

  I watched Naomi try to squeeze her fingers under the door, but there was no way they’d fit. The key was so close, yet it was useless if we couldn’t get our hands on it.

  I wondered how far Phillip had got by now. Was he at Rachel’s yet? Would his bruised face give her enough of an indication that not everything was as it seemed? I had to pray she wouldn’t let him take my son.

  I sat on the end of the bed, my head in my hands. Think.

  Phillip was one step ahead of me and wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. But I would find a way to stop him. I had to.

  Think.

  He’d had things his own way for far too long. Ruby, Naomi and I had let him get away with too much because his dis-pleasure was too hard to bear.

  Think.

  Even his mother had indulged him for too long, breast-feeding him until he was five.

  I leapt to my feet.

  ‘Yes!’ I shouted.

  ‘What?’ asked Naomi.

  Ruby was looking at me hopefully. ‘Imogen?’

  I took my jumper off. It had gone crisp with the drying blood and it scraped my cheek.

  ‘I can’t reach … My ribs hurt. Ruby, can you help?’ I crouched down by her side.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Ruby was leaning away from me.

  ‘Unhook me.’

  Ruby undid my bra and I slid it off my shoulders. With my back to her, I pulled my jumper back on, feeling vulnerable as the rough material grazed my chest.

  I bit the material at the front of the bra between the pale-blue cups. The bow came off easily between my teeth and I spat it to one side and then bit at the bra again. My jaw ached, but I continued to bite and tug at the delicate material until a small hole began to appear.

  ‘Wait. Here it comes.’

  I pushed at the metal and it poked at the thinning fabric. Pushing again, though my fingers slipped, the wire broke the surface. I took the end of it in my teeth and the underwire from my bra slid out.

  ‘Thin and curved,’ I said.

  I ran up the stairs and pushed Naomi to one side.

  ‘Please, please, please,’ I murmured.

  I pushed the underwire under the door while keeping hold of one end. At first it moved the key to one side, but failed to bring it any closer. I took a deep breath to steady myself. The gap at the bottom of the door was so narrow it was difficult to see anything other than a shadow.

  I tried again, felt the wire touch something heavy, but it didn’t move. I readjusted my grip on the wire and pulled a little. The key moved slowly at first, then slid with ease. As the end of the key became visible under the door, I let go of the wire and pulled at it.

  The circular head of the key was thicker than the body and it got stuck, but I shook, wriggled and pulled on it until I worked it free. In my haste, I fumbled to get it into the lock. I shouted with exasperation and took a deep breath.

  This time the key slid into the lock and it opened. We burst free, the door slamming backwards against the wall. I crawled into the hallway and lay on the cool tiles.

  The sweet, pure air smelled like the beach after a cloudburst. The late-afternoon light had never been so beautiful. I took in as much air as my lungs would let me, until my chest ached and I was light-headed. I had no time to gather my thoughts. I ran into the kitchen and out again. Searching. Panicking.

  ‘The keys. The keys. I don’t know where he’s put the …’

  I spotted them on the shelf in the hallway and ran back to unlock Naomi. She groaned with pleasure as the cuffs sprang open on first her wrist, and then her ankle.

  ‘Undo Ruby,’ I said and left the other key with her. The back door was open and there was no sign of Phillip, my phone or – I checked the driveway – my car.

  ‘Naomi, I need your car. Where are your keys?’

  ‘In my jacket. I’ll come with you. Have you called Rachel?’ she asked urgently.

  ‘He’s taken my phone.’

  ‘Use mine,’ she called.

  ‘I can’t remember the number. 0788 … No, 077 … Shit! I need to get to her house. It’s only ten minutes away.

  ‘Does Phil know where she lives?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so, but it wouldn’t take him long to find out from the police database.’

  Ruby appeared as we flung open the front door.

  ‘Call the police,’ I said. ‘Tell them what’s happened …’

  ‘But,’ Naomi cut in, ‘he’ll tell them that we locked him up.’

  ‘This is about my son! You can blame it all on me. I don’t care.’

  Ruby was looking about her, dazed. ‘The dogs. Where are the dogs? Don’t tell me he’s done it again?’

  It hadn’t occurred to me before, but they hadn’t made a sound since Phillip had escaped the cellar; they were long gone.

  ‘I don’t know. Ruby, we’ve got to go. Just call the police!’

  We ran out of the house, shoeless, covered in blood and desperately hoping that we weren’t too late.

  TWENTY

  10 days before the funeral

  ‘I’ve found a mobile number.’

  I was in the passenger seat of Naomi’s car searching the Internet for Rachel’s details.

  ‘Call it!’ Naomi said.

  A car sounded its horn as Naomi passed it on the inside lane and pushed in front. Lights flashed in the rear-view mirror and she pushed the accelerator as far down as it would go. The engine was slow to respond.

  ‘Straight to voicemail. She’ll have it switched off.’

  ‘Leave a message,’ Naomi said.

  I listened to Rachel’s voice in my ear. Hello, you’ve reached Rachel Scott. Sorry I can’t take your call right now …

  I was picturing her unable to answer her phone because she was handing Alistair over to Phillip; packing him off with a cheery wave. The high-pitched beep of the voicemail brought me to my senses.

  ‘Rachel, hi, it’s me, Imogen. Phillip’s on his way to get Alistair. You mustn’t let him take him. Do whatever you have to do. Call the police. Just … just don’t let him take Alistair. Please. Call me back on this number when you get this message.’ I looked at Naomi. ‘Number,’ I said to her. I repeated Naomi’s number, digit by digit, into the phone and then said, ‘We’re on our way to your house now. We’ll be with you in five minutes. Call me back.’

  There were brake lights ahead of us, reaching into the distance like a landing strip.

  ‘Take this turning,’ I said.

  I looked at the clock – it was almost four. Rachel and Alistair were probably on their w
ay back from the cinema. Rachel would be speeding slightly to get back in time to meet Phillip; thinking she was doing me a favour, and that Alistair would be excited to see his dad.

  Naomi swerved off the dual carriageway and onto the slip road. The traffic was just as bad leading up to the roundabout, and I swore as we joined the end of the queue, staring at the red light, willing it to change.

  Naomi put her hand on my arm. ‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘We’ll get to him. I’m not being funny, but there’s no way Phil wants to take Alistair away. He wouldn’t know what to do with him.’

  ‘You don’t get it,’ I snapped. ‘If he really wanted to spend time with him, I wouldn’t be so scared. Right now, his hate for me is stronger than his love for Alistair. Something’s changed. Look at what he did to us in the cellar. He’s crossed a line, and it’s anyone’s guess what he’s going to do now. We’ve all underestimated him and I can’t make that mistake again. He knows the worst thing that could happen to me is to lose my son.’

  The lights changed, but the cars ahead of us seemed slow to respond. They trickled on to the roundabout. As we approached the lights, they changed to amber. As if reading my mind, Naomi accelerated and turned a hard left. I caught a glimpse of red light as we passed.

  We sped through the country lanes. I gripped onto my seat, but didn’t ask her to slow down. We turned into Arnold Crescent, smacking the kerb hard and causing us to leave our seats for an instant.

  I scanned the parked vehicles, whipping my head from side to side. My car wasn’t here. Neither was Phillip. Perhaps he’d already left; perhaps he hadn’t found her address yet. For the first time in my life I was thankful I’d left the car with an empty tank. Hopefully the car had run out of petrol and left him stranded.

  The street was stiff with middle-class respectability. Trimmed, neat houses and glinting cars sat either side of the tree-lined road.

  ‘Here. This one on the right.’ I pointed to the house and undid my seatbelt as Naomi pulled up outside Rachel’s at a rush, bumping the car onto the pavement. I ran up the steps and struck at the door.

  ‘Rach? Rachel!’

  I looked through the letter box into the empty hallway.

  ‘Alistair!’

  I went over to the window and looked in. There was nothing out of the ordinary. No signs of a scuffle. No signs of life. Naomi ran up behind me.

  ‘Anything?’

  I looked about me wildly. I shook my head.

  ‘Nothing.’

  A sudden sound behind us, a crack, had me spinning round. I was on edge, expecting an attack at any moment. I ducked instinctively, but it was Naomi’s car rolling backwards into a shiny black Corsa.

  I straightened up and exhaled. If Phillip was nearby he must have heard the sound.

  A door opened next door and a small, irate man ran out.

  ‘Hi,’ I said stepping in front of him, ‘have you seen Rachel?’

  ‘That’s my car!’

  ‘I need to find Rachel,’ I said.

  Naomi went out into the road and looked up and down it, while the neighbour went to assess the damage to his car. He put his hands on his bald head and walked round the vehicle. ‘We’ve only had it three weeks,’ he said.

  ‘Sorry, but this is important. Rachel has my son.’

  I yanked on his arm, pulling him round to face me.

  ‘Do you know where she is or not?’ I was angry and I was desperate, and couldn’t care less about his car.

  He arched away from me in shock and then saw my face for the first time.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked. ‘Your face!’

  I touched my nose instinctively, knew it was misshapen, bloodied and probably broken. I watched as his wide eyes travelled to Naomi and widened even more. She looked even worse than I did. One of her eyes was half-closed. I was surprised she’d been able to see well enough to drive. Seeing the horror on the small man’s face made me see us through his eyes. It was the stuff of nightmares. Bruised faces, ripped clothes, bare feet. We looked like we’d been pulled from a car wreck.

  ‘The man who hurt us is coming here for Rachel and my son.’

  His eyes snapped back to mine.

  ‘There was a man here not fifteen minutes ago. It wasn’t—’

  ‘Did he see Rachel?’

  ‘He had bruises too, but he said that—’

  ‘What about Rachel?’ Naomi was almost shouting at him.

  ‘No. I spoke to her around lunchtime and she said she was on her way to the pictures. She’s not back yet.’

  Relief nearly knocked me off my feet and I steadied myself against the cool black railings.

  ‘What did you tell the man?’ I asked.

  ‘Same as I’ve told you. Are you sure you’re okay? Do you think you should be getting yourself to the hospital?’ He winced as he looked at my nose.

  ‘Do you know where he went?’

  ‘To the nearest cinema, I assume. He didn’t seem to be in a huge rush. Said she must have forgotten their meeting.’

  I looked at Naomi, unsure what to do next, but feeling that I couldn’t just sit by and wait for something to happen. Rachel should have been here by now. Where were they?

  ‘I need you to keep an eye out for Rachel coming home,’ I said to the neighbour. ‘Really watch the front of the house. It’s important that she doesn’t speak to the man who came earlier. Tell her I’ve left a message on her mobile. She should call the number I’ve left there – and call the police if you see that man again.’

  He puffed out his chest with a sense of importance.

  ‘Well, yes, of course.’

  I motioned to Naomi to get in the car, but shook my head as she reached the driver’s side-door.

  ‘I’ll drive,’ I said.

  ‘What about my car?’ the man said.

  I glared at him and he shrank away from me. Naomi had left the keys in the ignition and the engine started first time. I put the car in first gear and had to press the accelerator hard to get the car to bump forward.

  I continued slowly up the road, accelerator hard to the floor, leg straining with the effort. The car picked up and lurched forward, gathering speed over the crest of the hill and down the other side, around the crescent and back onto the busy thoroughfare.

  ‘At least we know Phillip hasn’t got him yet. Rachel must have had the text about Phillip coming to pick Alistair up. I’m worried that she’s already sent him a message, thinking he’s me, arranging a different time or place. The house maybe? Perhaps she thinks she’s doing me a favour by bringing him home?’

  ‘Ruby will deal with it, if she does.’

  ‘You think? She’s always quick to side with Phillip.’

  ‘Not this time,’ said Naomi. ‘She’ll be scared. She’s probably already got the police there by now.’

  ‘Call my home number and see if she’s heard anything.’

  I gave Naomi the number and she keyed it in.

  ‘Battery’s running low,’ she said.

  ‘Shit!’

  I turned the car and started heading towards the house. Praying all the while that I could get to Alistair before Phillip did.

  ‘Ruby, it’s Naomi. No, he wasn’t there. I guess that means they’ve not turned up there, either? No. Sit tight, we’ll look for the dogs as soon as we’ve found Alistair, okay? I know. I know. But they’re chipped, right, so as soon as someone finds them … That’s right. See? It’ll be okay. We’ll be back in,’ she looked at me as she said, ‘ten minutes?’ I nodded and she said into the phone, ‘Yeah, ten minutes.’

  She started to take the phone away from her ear and then changed her mind, ‘Oh, wait, Ruby? Ruby?’ She looked at the dial, but she’d already lost her. ‘I was going to ask her what the police said, but she was freaking out about the dogs. Do we need to get our stories straight before we get home and start talking to the police?’

  ‘Tell them the truth. It’s okay. As long as I get Alistair back, I don’t care what the police think.’
r />   ‘You will get him back. Phil ain’t got him yet. He still thinks we’re locked up. He don’t even know that we’re looking for him.’

  She was right, Phillip wouldn’t expect us to be looking for Alistair yet. He was in no rush. I came to a halt at a T-junction and waited for a break in the traffic. I was looking at every car as it drove past, to see if it was Rachel or Phillip. Where are you, Rachel?

  Naomi’s mobile rang.

  ‘What shall I do?’ she said.

  ‘Answer it!’

  ‘Hello?’

  She listened. I kept glancing over at her.

  ‘Who is it?’ I hissed.

  ‘Oh, hi, yeah. No, I’m with her now – she’s driving.’

  ‘Who is it? Pass me the phone!’ I reached for it, but Naomi elbowed me away and transferred the phone to her other hand.

  ‘We’ll be right there.’

  She hung up and turned to me.

  ‘That was your mum. Guess who’s just turned up at her house?’

  TWENTY-ONE

  10 days before the funeral

  I kissed Alistair all over his face and hair and then again, over and over.

  ‘You left some kisses at home,’ I said and kissed him again.

  ‘Mummy?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘What happened to your face?’

  ‘I fell over a cat in the garden. I was carrying a cup of tea, so I didn’t have my hands free and just … splat! Broke the fall with my nose.’

  ‘What cat was it?’

  ‘Big, fluffy ginger one.’

  ‘Did you hurt it?’

  ‘No, but when I catch it, I’ll …’ and I chased him about the room, tickling his sides and his tummy. I caught him and breathed him in. ‘I love you so, so much,’ I said.

  ‘Love you most.’

  ‘Did Nomey fall over a cat too?’

  I looked at Naomi’s half-closed eye and the bruising on her cheek.

  ‘No, Naomi, tripped down the stairs. Would you believe, she fell over her own feet?’

  He skipped away, saying, ‘Silly Nomey.’

  We were at Bill the gardener’s house. We couldn’t be sure that Phillip wasn’t going to turn up at Mother’s. Couldn’t be sure he wasn’t there already.