Witness

by Mandasue Heller

  She shook her head and swallowed loudly, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. ‘I just want to go home,’ she whispered.

  ‘You’ve got a nasty bump on the back of your head, so I think you’ll be staying here for a couple of nights, at least,’ Spencer said. ‘You’re lucky those lads came along when they did or it could have been a lot worse.’

  ‘The next one might not be so lucky,’ Bennett said, slotting her notes back into the cradle. ‘And the sooner we catch him, the faster we’ll get him off the streets, so we need you to really think about what you might have seen or heard. Was he black, white, Asian? Were there any logos or colours on his jacket? Did he speak . . .?’

  Josie’s head throbbed as the man fired the questions at her without giving her a chance to answer, and a shiver rippled down her spine when she closed her eyes and saw another hazy vision.

  She’d been walking fast, trying to get to the main road, then she hit a wall and fell over. Only it wasn’t a wall, it was a man, and he’d covered her mouth with his hand and dragged her through the fence. And then . . .

  ‘Josie? Are you feeling dizzy again?’

  Josie opened her eyes when Spencer’s voice filtered through the haze. His colleague was right: they needed to catch her attacker before he did this to somebody else. But if she told them that she remembered it, they’d keep coming back for more. And if they somehow managed to catch him, they’d expect her to go to court. She couldn’t risk that, so she shook her head, and said, ‘I was trying to remember, but there’s nothing. I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Spencer said, trying to mask his disappointment. ‘We’ll leave it at that for now, but if you remember anything, no matter how small or insignificant you might think it is, let one of the nurses know and we’ll come back.’

  ‘I will,’ Josie lied.

  ‘I’ll give your daughter a call and let her know you’re awake,’ Spencer said as he stood up. ‘Her Aunt Suzie’s staying with her while you’re here,’ he added, giving her a meaningful look.

  Suzie . . . Josie frowned as she silently repeated the name. She didn’t know anyone called Suzie, so why was it ringing a bell?

  Holly had said it earlier! When they were eating, she’d said it was Bex’s mum’s name!

  Relief washed over her, only to be instantly replaced by dread. Oh, God! The rich bitch was at her flat. What if she’d taken a look around and decided that Holly was being neglected because it was squalid compared to her posh house?

  ‘How are we getting on?’ Lorraine popped her head round the curtain.

  ‘We’re leaving,’ Spencer said. ‘I’m sure her daughter will want to see her when she hears she’s awake, so when should I tell her to come?’

  ‘Visiting starts at two,’ Lorraine said. ‘But if she wants to pop in a little earlier with some of her mum’s things, that’d be fine.’

  ‘I’ll let her know,’ Spencer said. Then, to Josie, he added, ‘I’ll try to call in again tomorrow, but if you remember anything in the meantime—’

  ‘Tell the nurse,’ Josie murmured.

  Nodding, Spencer smiled and said goodbye, then he, his colleague and the nurse left her.

  Unable to see past the curtain, she listened as their footsteps receded. The pain in her head was becoming duller and she guessed the tablets must have started to kick in. Grateful for that, but aware that she didn’t have much time as a sluggish feeling began to creep over her, she was about to sit up when she heard something beeping on the other side of the room. Footsteps entered and she heard muffled voices, then the curtain billowed inward as another bed was wheeled quickly past the end of hers.

  When silence fell over the room again, she sat up and eased her heavy, bruised legs over the side of the mattress. She looked around for her clothes but they weren’t there, and she guessed the police must have taken them to check for traces of her attacker’s DNA. Her shoes were under the chair, however, and her handbag was inside the bedside cabinet when she checked. Pulling it out, she rooted her phone out from the mess of tissues and receipts inside, intending to call Holly and tell her that she was coming home and warn her not to let Bex’s mum snoop around.

  The battery was flat, and she muttered a curse under her breath when she remembered that she’d forgotten to charge it; she’d been too busy shopping and then cooking the stupid stew to think about it. Dropping the phone back into her bag, she was relieved to find that her purse hadn’t been stolen and the small amount of money she’d had in it was still there. A quick count told her that she had just enough for a taxi home, so she put it away and carefully slid off the bed and peeked out into the room.

  There were no nurses in sight, either in here or out on the corridor. Bending over as far as her sore stomach and the pain in her side would allow, so that the woman who was still staring up at the ceiling in the corner bed wouldn’t see her and raise the alarm, she crept out from behind the curtain and made her way over to the cabinet beside the now missing bed. She eased the door open, keeping an eye on the other beds and the door, and her heart leapt when she saw a neatly folded coat on top of a pile of clothes on the bottom shelf. Sliding it out, she quickly closed the door at the sound of approaching footsteps and hobbled back to her own bed, stashing the coat in her cabinet seconds before the nurse came through the curtain.

  ‘Hey, what are you doing?’ Lorraine chided, taking hold of her arm. ‘I told you I’d bring you a bedpan if you needed the toilet.’

  ‘I’m not going to the toilet, I’m going home,’ Josie snapped, shrugging her hand off.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Lorraine said. ‘Doctor Ross will be in to see you soon; she’ll decide when you’re ready to be discharged.’

  ‘Am I under arrest?’ Josie asked, irritated by the woman’s school-marmish manner.

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Then I’m going,’ Josie said, reaching for her handbag. ‘And, don’t worry, I’m not nicking your gown. I’ll fetch it back when I’ve washed it.’

  ‘I’m not concerned about that, I’m concerned about you,’ Lorraine argued. ‘You’ve had a trauma to your head and we need to monitor you for the next twenty-four hours, make sure there are no complications.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Josie insisted.

  A young female doctor appeared. Hesitating when she saw Josie on her feet, she glanced down at the folder in her hand, before asking, ‘Is this Ms Evans?’

  ‘Yes, and she’s trying to leave,’ said Lorraine. ‘I’ve told her it’s not advisable.’

  ‘And I told you I’ll be fine,’ Josie interjected.

  ‘We can’t force you to stay,’ the doctor said, ‘but I’d be a lot happier if you did.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Josie said, hitching the strap of her bag over her shoulder. A pain seared through her side as she did it, and she put her hand down on the bed and breathed in deeply.

  ‘I need to take a look at that,’ the doctor said, gesturing for her to get onto the bed. ‘Your coat stopped the knife from going in too far, but it did pierce your skin, so we don’t want to be taking any chances with it.’

  ‘Knife?’ Josie repeated, gaping at her. ‘He stabbed me?’

  ‘As I said, your coat took the brunt of it, but we don’t want you opening the wound and getting infected, so if we could just take a look?’

  Too shocked to argue, Josie lay down. The nurse lifted the gown over her stomach and the doctor gently peeled back the dressing Josie hadn’t noticed until then. Arching her neck to look, Josie sucked in a breath when she saw the angry wound in the flesh above her left hip. It was tiny, but the dried blood around it and on the dressing told her that it must have bled out for some time.

  ‘It looks OK, but I think we’ll redress it,’ the doctor said. ‘And I’d still prefer to keep you in overnight, Ms Evans – just to be on the safe side.’

  Sensing that they were going to keep hassling her until she agreed, Josie sighed, and said, ‘Fine. Whatever.’

  ‘Good girl,’ L
orraine smiled.

  Flashing a furious look at the bitch from beneath her lashes, Josie turned slowly onto her side until she could no longer see her.

  Another nurse popped her head around the curtain, and said, ‘Sorry for interrupting, Doctor Ross, but you’re needed in Resus.’

  The doctor immediately scooped up the folder she’d laid on the bed and rushed out, leaving Lorraine to get Josie back into bed.

  ‘Leave me,’ Josie said. ‘I’m tired and I just want to lie like this for a while.’

  ‘OK, I’ll check on you in a bit then,’ Lorraine said, backing out. ‘Ring the buzzer if you need anything.’

  Josie nodded, and closed her eyes. In the gap beneath the curtain, she saw Lorraine’s feet walking towards the bed next to hers, then heard her walk over to the bed on the other side of the room, and ask, in a loud, slow voice, as if speaking to a deaf person or an idiot, ‘Are you feeling any better, Agnes?’

  No reply came, so she said, ‘Why don’t you close your eyes for a bit, my love? They’ll get sore if you keep staring like that, and we’ll have to use those drops you don’t like. Shall I turn the light off and see if that helps?’

  Still no reply. Lorraine walked past Josie’s bed again, the overhead light went out, and then all fell silent in the room. Waiting a few seconds to make sure she wasn’t coming back, Josie got up and took the coat she’d stolen out of the cabinet. It was a little tight around the arms, but it buttoned up all right; and it fell to just below Josie’s knees, so the bloodstained gown was completely covered. Shoes back on, her handbag over her shoulder, she peeped out into the corridor to make sure Lorraine wasn’t standing guard, and then headed quietly towards the door marked Exit.

  The Resus room was situated at that end of the corridor, and Josie glanced in through the open door as she passed. The old lady whose coat she was wearing was lying flat on the bed, her head angled back, her mouth wide open. Doctor Ross and three nurses were standing around the bed and Josie instinctively knew from their downbeat expressions that the woman hadn’t made it. At least she wouldn’t get done for stealing the coat, she thought, doubting that the grieving relatives would notice it was gone when they came to collect the woman’s belongings. Thankful for that, she quickly crossed herself before pushing out through the exit door.

  22

  Suzie and Holly were huddled on the sofa in their pyjamas, watching a horror film. Jumping when her phone started ringing, Suzie reached for it, her gaze still fixed on the TV screen.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Is this Suzie?’

  ‘Depends who’s asking,’ she replied cagily, not recognizing the voice.

  ‘It’s Dan,’ the man said. ‘PC Spencer.’

  ‘Oh, hi . . .’ Suzie sat up straighter and flapped her hand at Holly to lower the TV volume. ‘Is everything OK? We weren’t expecting to hear back from you so soon.’

  ‘I just wanted to let you know that Josie’s awake and I’ve spoken to her,’ Spencer said.

  ‘Oh, that’s good,’ Suzie said, smiling at Holly who was watching her anxiously. ‘And how was she?’

  ‘A bit groggy, but the nurse said she’d just had pain meds before we got there, so that’s to be expected, said Spencer. ‘She doesn’t remember anything, but it’ll probably start coming back to her when she’s slept and her head’s a little clearer.’

  ‘Let’s hope so,’ Suzie said. ‘He needs catching before he does this to someone else.’

  ‘We’ll get him,’ Spencer assured her. ‘Anyway, they said Holly can visit her tomorrow, and they’ve asked if she can take some stuff in – nightie and toiletries, and what have you.’

  ‘No problem,’ Suzie said. ‘And thanks for letting us know.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  Spencer paused, as if, Suzie thought, he wanted to say something else, and she wondered if he was going to ask her out. Given the way he’d looked at her earlier, and his blush when she’d touched his arm, it wouldn’t surprise her; and he was a good-looking bloke, so she couldn’t deny it would be flattering. But she wasn’t sure she was ready to start seeing anyone so soon after Rob, so she was relieved when Spencer said, ‘Right, well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Night.’

  ‘Night,’ she said. ‘And thanks again.’

  ‘What did he say?’ Holly asked. ‘Is my mum OK?’

  ‘He’s spoken to her and she’s fine.’

  ‘Really?’ Holly’s eyes lit up for the first time that night. ‘Can I go and see her?’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ said Suzie. ‘And we need to take a nightie and some toiletries in for her, so I’ll help you to pack a bag when the film’s finished.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Holly said, jumping up off the sofa and rushing into the kitchen to grab a plastic bag.

  Suzie smiled, happy that the cloud of gloom had lifted off Holly’s shoulders – and even happier to hear that Josie was on the mend, because the thought of spending the night in this grubby, soul-destroying little flat was already bringing her out in hives. She felt itchy just sitting on this stinking sofa, but she’d promised PC Spencer she would stay here, so that’s what she would do. But she was going to count off the seconds until she could escape and take a long hot shower.

  Out in the hall, Holly hesitated before entering her mum’s bedroom. She wasn’t allowed in there, because her mum said it was the only private space she had, and she’d always respected that. But this was an emergency, so she opened the door and switched on the light.

  Unprepared for the sight that greeted her, her mouth fell open. Her mum nagged her to keep her own room clean and moaned if the rest of the flat wasn’t spotless after she’d cleaned up at the weekend, yet her room was an absolute tip. Dirty clothes were strewn across the floor, and the air reeked of stale smoke and sweat. The duvet cover and pillowcases looked grubby, and an overflowing ashtray was sitting on the bedside cabinet surrounded by dirty cups, glasses and scrunched-up tissues. A laundry basket without its lid stood in the corner, and Holly shook her head when she spotted the empty vodka bottles sticking out of it. She’d suspected her mum was drinking too much again, but she hadn’t realized it was this bad.

  ‘Holy shit!’

  Jumping at the sound of Suzie’s voice, Holly’s cheeks blazed when she saw the disgust in her friend’s eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry, hon,’ Suzie said, pulling a face as she looked around. ‘I know I said I’d stay over, but there’s no way I’m sleeping in here. It needs fumigating.’

  ‘We can’t touch anything,’ Holly said, feeling nervous when Suzie started rolling up the sleeves of her pyjama top, as if she intended to start cleaning. ‘My mum’ll go mad if she finds out you’ve been in here. She doesn’t even let me come in.’

  ‘And how will she feel if social services come round and you get taken into care because she couldn’t be arsed cleaning up?’ Suzie asked bluntly. ‘’Cos that’s what’ll happen if they see this, I guarantee it.’

  Holly shuddered at the thought of being sent to a children’s home. A girl at her last school had been sent to live in a home after her mum died, and she’d told Holly it was worse than prison.

  ‘Right, forget it, we’re going to mine,’ Suzie said decisively. ‘I know I told PC Spencer I’d stay here, but I doubt we’ll hear from him again tonight, so grab some underwear and toiletries while I look for a nightie, then we’ll get going.’

  Squirming with shame when Suzie walked over to the bed and gingerly lifted a pillow with her fingernails, as if afraid that she might catch something from it, Holly rifled through the dressing table drawer and tossed a bra and a couple of pairs of knickers into the plastic bag before going to the bathroom to get her mum’s toothbrush.

  There was no nightdress beneath the pillows, so Suzie went over to the wardrobe. A heap of clothes tumbled out as she opened the door, and an old, square biscuit tin fell out from the middle when she tried to catch them. The lid came off when it hit the floor and a pile of photographs and papers spilled out at her feet.

/>   Scooping them together as Holly came back into the room, she peered at the photograph on the top of the pile as she straightened up. It was of a pretty young woman with long blond hair and sparkling blue eyes, and she was smiling widely at whoever was holding the camera.

  ‘Is this your mum?’ she asked, showing it to Holly.

  ‘Yeah, I think so,’ Holly murmured, studying the face. ‘She looks so young though, and I’ve never seen her with blond hair before. It really suits her.’

  ‘It does,’ Suzie agreed, leafing through the other photos. ‘Ooh, she doesn’t look so happy in this one.’ She turned it round for Holly to see.

  Looking at it, Holly frowned. Her mum looked a lot older in this shot: her cheeks gaunt, her eyes dull, and the blond grown out to the extent that she looked like she was wearing a black skullcap on top of a straw wig. Wondering if it had been taken when she was pregnant and Holly’s dad had dumped her, Holly felt a twinge of guilt when she realized that she might have been the cause of their break-up and her mum’s subsequent misery.

  ‘Aw, this is sweet.’ Suzie showed Holly another image, this time of Josie smiling down at the newborn baby in her arms. ‘Is that your sister?’

  ‘I haven’t got a sister,’ Holly said, her frown deepening as she took the photo from her. ‘I’m an only child.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t look anything like you,’ Suzie commented.

  Holly agreed: it didn’t. Her hair was mousy brown but the baby’s was a lot darker, and its nose was a completely different shape than hers. But her name and date of birth were written on the back when she turned it over, so it had to be her.

  ‘God, I was an ugly baby,’ she muttered.

  ‘At least you’re pretty now,’ Suzie said, plucking a folded age-yellowed newspaper cutting out of the bundle and opening it out on the bed. ‘Hey, look at this.’

  ‘What is it?’ Holly asked, putting the photos down and looking over Suzie’s shoulder.

  CHILD MISSING FROM SCENE OF DOUBLE MURDER, the headline read. An investigation has been launched after an anonymous tip-off led police to the scene of a double murder in the Shaw district of Oldham in the early hours of Wednesday morning. The bodies of Anna Hughes and her partner Devon Prince were found in a blood-spattered bedroom at Ms Hughes’s home. Both victims had been shot at close range in what police are describing as a targeted attack. Concerns were raised when it was discovered that Ms Hughes’s four-year-old daughter from a previous relationship, Charlotte, was missing from the house, and an intensive search is taking place in Shaw and surrounding areas. Detective Chief Inspector Andrew Forster has asked anyone who knows of Charlotte’s whereabouts to contact—