by Helen Phifer
‘I don’t know where she is.’
He lunged for her before she could move away. Grabbing her hand, he began to crush her fingers in his tight grip. Stella twisted away from him, lifted her foot, and slammed it straight into his balls. The shout was both terrifying and wonderful, and as he released his grip on her, she ran for the bathroom. She’d almost made it until he threw himself at her and she felt herself falling to the floor. A tight fist hit her in the face, and an explosion of blackness smattered with silver stars filled her vision. Then he hit her again and again.
Writhing and screaming as loud as she could, she was helpless as he leant down and put his elbow against her windpipe, crushing it and stopping the air from entering.
‘Last chance before I fucking kill you.’
Stella could feel her fingers and toes going numb through the lack or circulation, her lungs felt as if they were on fire. The only thing she could do was tell him and then ring the police to warn Maddy.
He released his arm, letting air flow through, and she greedily sucked it in. Her voice came out as a scratchy, hoarse whisper. ‘Lake House, she’s somewhere near Keswick.’
‘All this fuss for nothing. You should have told me the first time, Stella. It would have saved you this pain. If you tell anyone what happened here, I’ll come back. You know that I will, and next time I won’t stop. I’ll take a knife and I’ll slice your throat from ear to ear, then watch you bleed to death.’
He stood up, and she watched him through the one eye that opened slightly, praying he was leaving.
He stepped back, then lifted up his foot and stamped on her head. This time, she welcomed the blackness, and let it take her away from the pain.
Chapter Twenty-Four
M addy’s eyes flew open and she had no idea where she was. Her breathing was laboured, and she was covered in a fine film of sweat. Christ, that had been a nightmare-and-a-half! She’d been running through the halls of Lake House, wearing either a white wedding dress or a ball gown. Whatever it had been, it was cumbersome, and it had slowed her down. She had no idea who or what she’d been running from, but the fear had been strong enough to make her run for her life. She’d been trying to find a way to escape when she’d woken up.
There was no sun streaming through the windows. Maddy wondered if it was still night and she’d only been asleep a short time, but she reached out for her phone and was surprised to see it was almost 8 a.m. The sky was so grey and overcast she didn’t think it would ever get light today. It was a huge difference from yesterday.
Her head a little tender, she glanced at the wine bottle on the table next to her laptop. It was empty; she’d finished that, and the one she’d opened the night before. No wonder her head was thudding in time with her heartbeat.
She checked her phone in the hope a message had through and was disappointed to see that Stella hadn’t been in touch. It wasn’t like her, and Maddy felt a little anxious that she hadn’t. Yesterday’s conversation had been different, and there had been no texts or Messenger contact from her; normally she got all kinds of memes and quotes. Something was going on with her friend, and today Maddy was going to make it her mission to find out what.
Pushing herself up on her elbows, she stared at the dresser that was wedged in front of the door. Oh crap. Breakfast first, and then she was going to have to check every room in the entire house to see if she could find where the loud bang had come from last night.
Pushing the dresser as hard as she could, she managed to move it away from the door. She didn’t remember it being so heavy last night, but that could have been the wine giving her superpowers.
It was much cooler today and she opened a drawer and pulled out the faded, navy hooded NYP sweatshirt she’d bought on her last trip to New York. Taking the empty wine bottles with her, she went out into the large, open hallway and looked around. What a difference it was when there was no natural sunlight filtering through; it was full of dark shadows and more than a little eerie.
Maddy made her way to the oak staircase with the ornate, hand-carved balustrades, and stared over to look down into the entrance hall. Her hand gripped tightly onto the bannister; she’d never been particularly good at heights. It was so dark down there. The entire house was gloomy today, and she didn’t know if she wanted to go and investigate on her own, but her stomach letting out a loud, hungry grumble made up her mind for her. Besides, she couldn’t spend the next six months living in the bedroom like a recluse, could she?
She wondered who had lived here. Had it been a vibrant family home, or the cold prison of a spinster, or a widower? It didn’t seem like a particularly happy or joyous house, but she supposed it wouldn’t if no one had lived in it for about forty years. It was probably feeling lonely and unloved – a bit like her. The thought made Maddy smile, and she ran down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen.
There was no doubt about it, she was going to have to venture into the village today. She needed food, definitely more wine, some chocolate, and a decent Wi-Fi signal to get in touch with everyone. Surely Stella couldn’t ignore her if she FaceTimed her, could she?
After a quick breakfast, she decided to wait until she’d been to the village before trying to find what had caused the loud noise last night. With a bit of luck, Seth might even offer to come back with her and help her to look. Not that she was a damsel in distress, or anything like that, but there were times when a man came in very handy. Especially when it came to checking things you were too terrified to, like empty attics and cellars.
Opening the front door, she looked down to see a sodden ream of material draped across the front steps. It was an off-white, silk and lace combination. Puzzled, Maddy looked around, but there was no one that she could see in the area. She hadn’t heard any vehicles, and it was doubtful that someone had carried it here, dipped it in the lake, then dumped it on the doorstep. It looked far too heavy.
Bending down, she lifted it up and realised on closer inspection that it had a shape; it was a long dress, like a wedding or ball gown. A small screech filled the air. No, it wasn’t just any old dress; it looked like an antique wedding dress, something a bride would have worn a very long time ago. Similar to the one she’d been wearing in her dream. How bizarre was that? She had dreamt she was wearing a wedding dress, running through the halls, and now she’d found one on the front steps of the house – that was pretty weird.
She’d seen some strange things living in London, but nothing like this. Was that what the bang was last night? Had someone been trying to get inside? Oh God, what if they’d needed help? Someone could have fallen into the lake, dragged themselves out, and come to knock on the door for some help, and she’d been too scared to go and see. Whoever it was might be lying dead of hyperthermia somewhere.
Dropping the dripping wet dress on the steps, she ran down them and towards the lake, scanning the grounds and grass to see if there was a body somewhere. Breathless, she looked around as best as she could, unable to see anyone. Not used to running, the stitch in her side caused her to stop and begin walking back to the house.
She pulled out her phone to ring the police. Bloody hell, no signal! The only thing she could do was go and see if Seth was at the pub and ask him to phone the police, then he could come back with her and help her do a search of the grounds.
She didn’t need the guilt of some dead bride on her conscience. As she started the engine of her car, she hoped it would manage the short distance into the village, because right now she didn’t know what to do for the best.
Chapter Twenty-Five
J oe walked down the narrow street to peer through the bookshop window hoping to catch a glimpse of Stella. He’d been rude yesterday and it had bothered him all night. He wasn’t usually that way. The guy who’d been speaking to Stella was one of those arseholes who loved themselves, Joe could spot them a mile off. He probably snorted coke, drunk-drove, and slept with anything in a skirt for the hell of it.
It had upset him, bec
ause he’d been mooning over Stella for the last five months and been too afraid to ask her out. Now he’d missed his chance and he was devastated; she was probably about to embark on an affair with the rich prick. It didn’t matter. He liked her a lot and wanted to apologise. Maybe when she’d come to her senses, he might be able to pick up where they’d left off.
The shop was shut. He looked at his watch. No wonder it’s shut, you idiot, it’s not even eight. Cupping his hands to his eyes, he peered through the glass door, but it was dark inside. Wondering if he should risk going and knocking on her flat door, he heard a loud thud and a groan come from above. Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the front door which was ajar.
‘Stella, are you okay? It’s Joe.’
A muffled reply that he couldn’t make out filled him with fear, and he slowly pushed the door wider.
‘Look, I’m coming in. I hope you’re decent.’
Stepping into the flat, he saw her curled in a ball on the sofa, her face buried in her arms.
‘Stella.’
He walked towards her, but she didn’t turn to face him. He could smell the bitter tang of blood. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t see what. Reaching out, he took hold of her shoulder, gently tugging her towards him.
‘Stella, what’s wrong?’
When she turned to face him, he gasped. Her face no longer resembled the woman it had yesterday. It was a bloodied mess of cuts and deep, blue bruises.
‘Oh my God, who did this to you? Why haven’t you phoned the police?’
She lifted her arm and pointed with the stub of a scabbed-up finger, missing one of her long, false nails. He looked down to see her phone smashed into pieces. He took out his phone and began to dial 999, because he didn’t know what else to do. When Stella groaned ‘no’ at him, he stopped before pressing the call button.
He grabbed hold of her hand. Holding it gently, he knelt on the floor next to her.
‘We have to get you to the hospital, Stella, your face needs sorting out. There’s a deep cut by your eyebrow and it might need stitching. I’ll stay with you to look after you, I promise. Who did this?’
He didn’t need to hear her answer because he knew who had done it – the guy from yesterday. And Joe swore to himself that he’d get his revenge on him. You didn’t hit a woman, let alone knock her senseless and leave her scared and alone, bleeding, and in pain with no way to phone for help. He was so angry he wanted to punch the wall, but he didn’t want to scare her any more than she already was.
‘I’m going to phone an ambulance,’ he told her calmly. ‘I don’t have my car. It’s in the garage. You have to let me phone; you need to go to hospital.’
When she bowed her head, he realised she was embarrassed, so he went outside onto the top step and rang 999, asking for an ambulance, then the police.
Back inside, he sat next to her on the sofa, holding her hand, waiting for them to arrive. It didn’t take long before the sirens filled the air of the small street and he heard the heavy footsteps running up to the flat. Two police officers came in, took one look at them both, and began shouting at Joe to move away from her.
Realising they thought he’d done this, he put his hands up and shook his head. ‘I didn’t. I couldn’t, I wouldn’t. I’m her friend. I found her like this. I’m the one who called for help.’
‘Step away from her, sir, and keep your hands in the air. I’m going to have to cuff you until we’ve established the facts of what’s gone on here.’
Horrified, Joe did as he was told. One of the officers walked towards him with a pair of handcuffs. ‘Hold out your hands. This is just a precaution for our safety and yours.’
Stella began to wail, ‘Nooo, no, not him.’
She tried to stand up, and he watched as the colour drained from her face as she collapsed to the floor. Two paramedics ran in and Joe had never been so thankful. The coppers dragged him out of the way so they could work on Stella.
‘I swear to God, I didn’t do it. I came to see if she was okay and found her like this,’ he told them.
The female officer – who looked around the same age as his younger sister in her early twenties – grabbed hold of his hands and turned them around. He realised she was inspecting them for grazes.
Her much older colleague shook his head at her. ‘The amount of injuries she has there would show some bruising and cuts, unless he was wearing leather gloves, then he wouldn’t have any telltale signs.’ He looked at Joe. ‘I’m sorry, but until we can clear this up, you’re going to have to come with us.’
For the first time in his life, Joe felt totally helpless. The paramedics were loading Stella onto a chair to get her down into the ambulance. She was semi-conscious, but completely out of it.
He let them cuff him and lead him down to the waiting van. The female officer jumped into the back of the ambulance, while he stepped up into the cage of the police van. He’d never been in trouble with the police, let alone been arrested. The doors slammed shut on him, blocking out all daylight.
Joe wondered how long it would take for him to convince them he hadn’t hurt her. He supposed it didn’t matter. As long as Stella was going to be okay, he could cope with being locked in this tiny space. He buried his head in his hands. This was not how he’d imagined his morning turning out to be; he’d been hoping to buy Stella some breakfast.
A short time later, the doors opened, and he had to blink to let his eyes adjust to the light again.
‘You’re off the hook. What’s your name?’
‘Joe Thomas. I phoned for the ambulance and you guys. I work in the diner down Camden High Street. Stella’s my friend.’
‘Have you got any ID?’
‘My driving licence is in the wallet you took from me.’
The copper nodded. He opened the small plastic evidence bag, took the wallet out, and removed the licence. He studied it, looking from the picture to Joe.
‘That’s a terrible photo, mate.’
‘Cheers. Any more insults you want to throw my way while you’re at it?’
The officer smiled. ‘No, sir, I think we’ve done enough for one morning. Your friend Stella has told my colleague that a Connor Wood assaulted her late last night, and that you had nothing to do with it. So, you can get in the middle of the van and I’ll drop you off at the hospital to sit with your friend.’
‘Thank God for that.’ Joe breathed. ‘Thank you.’ He held his hands out for the handcuffs to be removed. ‘Is Stella okay?’
The copper shrugged. ‘I don’t really know, but I can imagine this is going to be difficult for her. At least she’s got you. I can imagine that Connor Wood won’t be so okay when he’s located.’
Joe nodded, hoping that they kicked the shit out of the bastard; it was the least he deserved.
As they drove to the hospital, Joe swore that if it was the last thing, he did he would track down Connor Wood and give him a taste of his own medicine.
Chapter Twenty-Six
M uch to her shame, Maddy’s car roared into the village like an army tank, announcing her arrival to every person within a two-mile radius. The engine needed looking at, and she was surprised the Beetle had made it this far.
The village consisted of one main street with some shops, a post office, and some quaint cottages. The pub stood at one end, and she was relieved it was the only one because she hadn’t thought to ask Seth what it was called.
Parking outside the beer garden, she hammered on the front door, the fear that there was a dead woman somewhere in the grounds near to the house weighing heavy on her mind. A man much older than Seth, but with the same crinkly brown eyes, opened the door.
‘What’s the emergency?’
‘Sorry, is Seth in? I need to speak to him. I’m from Lake House and I think there might be.’ She paused. What do you think it might be, Maddy?
He folded his arms. ‘There might be?’
‘An injured person in the grounds.’
Seth appeared behind
his dad and smiled at her. ‘Morning, what injured person?’
Both men stepped to one side to let her in. ‘This sounds crazy, but I found a soaking wet wedding dress on the front steps of the house, and I’m scared there’s some half-drowned bride lying in the bushes with hypothermia.’
The older man began to laugh. He held out his hand. ‘I’m Jacob, Seth’s dad. And you are?’
Maddy shook his hand. ‘Madeleine Hart, I’m a writer.’
‘I’d never have guessed.’ He laughed. ‘Do you always have such a vivid imagination?’
She felt her already pink cheeks begin to burn.
‘Dad, don’t be so cheeky,’ Seth interrupted. ‘He’s kidding. Do you want me to come and search with you?’
Nodding, she smiled. ‘Yes, please. If you’re not busy.’
‘He’s never busy is Seth, especially not for a pretty young thing with such a good imagination.’ Jacob began to chuckle at his own joke. Maddy didn’t know whether to join in or not, seeing as his amusement was at her expense.
‘Ignore him,’ Seth told her. ‘Come on. If that was your car making that awful racket, we’ll go in mine and leave yours here. If you give the house comedian the keys, he’ll get Andy the local car fixer to take a look when he comes in for his cheese sandwich and pint of bitter at lunchtime.’
Maddy passed the keys over with a grateful smile, then followed to Seth towards his Land Rover. She climbed up into the passenger seat and wrinkled her nose at the odour lingering inside.
Seth shrugged. ‘Sorry, it’s seen better days. It’s full of sweaty Mountain Rescue kit and walking boots. It’s been a while since I’ve had a woman to give a ride to.’
Laughing, she felt her cheeks turn redder. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. It smells fine.’
It was Seth’s turn to laugh. ‘Err, no it doesn’t. Put your window down and the fresh air will numb the senses.’
