Hard Truth

by Jay Gill

  Alice thought of home. She missed Faith. She thought about Faith’s birthday party and remembered her own magic trick, the disappearing coin trick. She sat up straight as she recalled how, with magic, it was not always about making the object disappear; rather, the trick was making the audience believe the object has disappeared.

  Alice set to work making the hole as big as she could.

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Sienna Lasota took back her passport. She watched as Lyle pulled suitcases out of the bedroom and left them at the top of the stairs.

  “We’re going to need to leave,” said Lyle. “It’s a little sooner than I’d anticipated, but it’s time to move on. If I’m not back by seven a.m., I need you to call a taxi and take your hand luggage. I want you to go ahead, just the way we discussed. I’ll join you later. You remember what I told you about these suitcases? We might need to move fast.”

  “I remember,” said Sienna. She tried to recall all Lyle had told her.

  “It’s not too late to change your mind. If you want to stay here, I understand. It’s not too late for you, yet.”

  “I want to be with you. I’ll do it. Whatever you need, I can do.”

  “Everything is going to be fine. We’ll start again like royalty.”

  Sienna thought about the life she was leaving behind. She thought about her parents and their bickering. She thought about her mum, who had worked at the same job for over thirty years. Her father, who scraped by doing odd jobs, never seeming to get ahead, always getting knocked back whenever he made a bit of progress. An honest, hardworking, decent man with the cards of life stacked against him.

  Sienna thought about her career as a high-end property agent. She knew from the way her boss looked at her that she’d only got the job because of how good her arse looked in a tight black skirt. It had had nothing to do with her enthusiasm, qualifications or ambition.

  Her parents had been delighted about the job; they’d told her what high hopes they had for her. She had to admit, she’d been happy, too – for a while.

  The trouble was, seeing people with so much money could quickly make you feel in want of more. Did she want to spend the next few years showing rich people around luxury homes? Or did she want to be one of those rich people?

  Then Kelly Lyle had come along and changed her life. Kelly made her feel desired, alive, excited, important and able to be whatever she wanted to be. There were no limits with Kelly, none, and she liked it. There was no way on earth she was giving that up.

  Kelly was complicated; there was a lot Sienna didn’t understand about her. It didn’t matter. She hoped they’d have years together. Plenty of time to find out all she wanted to know.

  For now, she knew all she needed to: Kelly wanted her and nobody else. Kelly’s work was important to her, and she was financially successful.

  She loved being with Kelly, and Kelly reciprocated that love. She was sensitive, generous, caring and fiercely protective. They were good together.

  “Good luck,” said Sienna. “Be careful. I love you.”

  Kelly looked at her oddly and said, “When you have a plan, you don’t need luck. Thank you, anyway. Remember everything I told you and we’ll both be fine.” She kissed Sienna and hugged her and said, “Don’t forget. No later than seven a.m. In fact, book a taxi just in case I don’t get back in time.”

  Sienna stood at the front door and watched Kelly drive off into the night.

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Alice lay perfectly still in the darkness. She had to be brave. She’d wriggled as far as she could under the floor. In complete darkness, she held up a couple of large pieces of floorboard in front of her. She prayed it would be enough to stop Lyle seeing her.

  The floorboards were a few inches above her head. Her head was bruised and throbbing. She’d hit it twice on the joists as she moved about looking for a way out. Satisfied there was no way she could escape from under the floor, she now lay motionless and awaited.

  The air was smelly and the ground uncomfortable. Her back was freezing cold on the damp soil beneath her.

  In the darkness, her ears found a new intensity, and she felt alert to every sound. Outside, she heard the car return, and her heart immediately began racing. This was it: she must stick to the plan.

  Alice studied the sounds. It had become a game, and the prize was to escape. She heard the mechanical clunk of the car locking. The key at the front door, the door opening and closing, a cupboard door slamming, keys dropped on a table, the tap running, footsteps towards her room.

  Alice held her breath. She pictured the long, thin key. Click-click, click. The door unlocked. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath. Footsteps and movement. She heard Lyle’s angry voice. Lyle was moving quickly now. Thuds and banging. Alice jumped as the bed scraped across the floor.

  Alice thought, ‘She’ll find me. She’ll hurt me. This plan was stupid.’

  She didn’t dare look. She could hear Lyle’s heavy breathing. She was close. She was looking under the floor. ‘It’s over,’ thought Alice. ‘She must see me.’ She froze, waiting for Lyle’s hand to grab her.

  She heard Lyle get to her feet. The sound of fast-moving footsteps as Lyle ran from the room. Hearing her outside the house once more, Alice dared to turn her head.

  ‘She didn’t see me,’ thought Alice. ‘It worked.’

  Alice moved as quickly as she could. She inched her body through the tight space then rolled onto her back. First putting her arms up through the hole, she pulled herself back into the room. Brushing herself off, she stood and listened.

  She walked to the door, which was now open, and looked out. There was no sign of Lyle. Alice moved quickly and quietly towards the farmhouse’s front door. It was now within touching distance. She could feel her freedom.

  It was night time; her eyes needed to adjust to the darkness. Alice peered around the doorframe. Now she could see a car. Next to it, and looking in all directions, was Kelly Lyle. She yanked her head back inside the house and stood still, holding her breath.

  Alice had planned to run towards the woods, which were straight ahead, then hopefully reach the road Lyle had driven along and where someone hopefully would help her. But Lyle was blocking her way. Alice decided instead to go to the side of the farmhouse and move around behind it. Side-stepping carefully out of the front door, Alice began to inch along the wall, keeping her eyes on Lyle.

  Nevertheless, her movement somehow attracted Lyle’s attention. Alice watched in horror as Lyle turned and looked directly at her. She froze.

  “Alice, don’t do this. Don’t run. I am not going to hurt you,” Lyle called to her.

  Alice turned on her heels and sprinted towards the back of the building. She knew she would be faster than Lyle. At school, she was always one of the fastest runners.

  Knowing Lyle was behind her, and following, Alice decided to circle the building and keep to her original idea of heading into the woods. She could easily outrun a grown-up. She pounded across the hard gravel to reach the grass; she was still wearing her sandals, and they hurt her feet. It didn’t matter; she had to keep moving. She had to run as fast as hard as she could. Not looking back, she focused on the tree line, which she could dimly make out from the light of the moon.

  At the edge of the field, she almost ran headlong into a barbed-wire fence that she hadn’t seen before. It was made up of five single strands of barbed wire between wooden posts several feet apart. Under, over, or through? she said to herself. Panting, she quickly assessed the possibilities. Going over was out of the question: too high. The bottom wire was too low; she’d be snagged. Her only choice was to squeeze through. Alice looked behind her. Lyle was closing in on her fast.

  Alice lifted a leg to poke between the barbed wires and immediately drew it back: the wires were too close together. She’d never get through. Her heart began to pound in her chest. She looked left and right along the fence. To her left, two posts along, the space between the bottom wire a
nd the grass widened slightly. The ground had fallen away close to the fence post, leaving a gap she might be able to squeeze through. Beyond the fence, Alice could see that the ground sloped down towards the wood. Decision made.

  She moved quickly to remove her jacket. She rolled it into a ball, got down on the ground and lay flat next to the post. Using her rolled-up jacket to push the wire up, she turned her face to the side and squeezed head first through the gap. She let go of the jacket, wriggled and rolled – and yelped in pain. In her rush to get under the fence, she’d snagged her foot on the barbed wire.

  Lyle was only a few metres away now, her face a mask of rage and frustration. Alice got to her knees and tugged frantically at her jacket; she pulled again and heard it tear. Not wanting to lose her advantage, she abandoned the jacket, leapt to her feet and headed down the bank and into the woods. She’d made it.

  Chapter Seventy

  Alice wanted to keep moving, but with so little light in the woods, it was almost impossible to see where she was going. The tree canopy blocked most of the available moonlight and the deeper into the wood she got, the less she could see. Soon she wouldn’t be able to see her hand in front of her face, and each step had become treacherous. Her foot was throbbing from catching it on the barbed wire and she realised she was limping. She needed to be careful; a bad fall or twisted ankle would be bad news. She decided to find somewhere to hide for the night.

  For a while she’d heard Lyle calling her, insisting she come back, as she was worried for her safety. That had stopped, and she hoped Lyle would give up and leave her alone.

  Alice came to a small clearing where a large tree had fallen, and the ground was now thick with bracken. She waded into the bracken until she felt well hidden. The bracken was tall, some taller than her, and as she lay down, it enveloped her. Looking up, she could no longer see the moon or stars, only the tips of the tall plants.

  Shivering, she curled up on her side and wrapped her arms around herself. She wished she hadn’t left her coat. Feeling miserable, cold and hungry, Alice tugged at the bracken and tried to cover herself as best she could to keep warm. She winced as she touched the cut on her foot. She could see it had stopped bleeding; that was something, at least.

  She thought about home and wished she was in her bed. Too exhausted to cry, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

  When Alice awoke, it was light. It took her a second or two to recall where she was and what was happening. She was icy cold and, at first, found it difficult to move. As quietly as she could, she got to her hands and knees and crawled towards the edge of the thick green bracken.

  Alice smiled; she was pleased with herself. Her dad would be proud. She’d escaped her captor and now just needed to find a way to home or let them know she was safe.

  As she emerged from the bracken, Alice almost bumped into a pony and her foal. The pony’s big doe-like eyes looked at her with disinterest, while the foal skip-trotted to the safety of its mother’s side.

  “Good morning,” said Alice. “Do you know the way out of here?”

  Alice noticed the ponies were on a well-worn path, a path probably made by centuries of ponies and cattle moving that way. It made sense to follow the path and hope it came to a road or house, somewhere she could raise the alarm.

  After what felt like an hour of walking, she came to a stream. The water looked crystal clear, and she stepped down into it. The cold water on her sore feet felt good. She scooped at the water and drank.

  Alice looked around and wondered which way to go next. The bank on the far side of the stream was muddy, and she could see hoof prints where ponies and cattle had passed that way. Alice decided that following the ponies had got her this far and it made sense to continue along their path.

  As she negotiated the muddy bank, a noise caught her attention. She stopped moving and held her breath. There it was again: the sound of a car. Her heart began to thump with excitement. A car meant people and safety and a way to get home.

  Quickening her pace, Alice ran now in the direction she’d heard the car. After a few false turns, overgrown paths and dead ends, she reached the road. The sight of it filled her with joy.

  She stood on the edge of the tarmac, waiting and listening and looking up and down the road. But after what felt like thirty minutes with no traffic passing, Alice decided she needed to keep moving. After all, this was a country road and the car she’d heard might be the only car passing this way all day.

  It felt natural to go right. Alice stepped out onto the tarmac and began walking. She stepped quickly at first, trying to keep herself warm, then slowed to a comfortable rhythm. After the uneven, muddy paths, the tarmac felt good and solid, and walking was far more comfortable on her scratched and muddy sandaled feet.

  After walking what felt like miles, she began to wonder if she should have gone the other way. She’d seen nothing, not even a pony. She stopped at a bridge and stepped down the bank to get some water from the stream. As she got back up on the road, she caught sight of movement far off in the distance at what seemed to be a crossroads. Squinting her eyes, she saw what looked like people.

  Yes, they were people: they had bikes. As she stared longer, their shapes fell into place and made sense. They were cyclists, two of them, wearing those brightly coloured, skin-tight clothes that cyclists wear. They were standing with their bikes, leaning against them.

  Alice began to run towards them, waving and calling out.

  “Hello, help! I need help! Can you hear me? Please help me.”

  She was too far away. Alice doubled her pace and waved and called. Her mind was screaming, ‘Please look up, please look this way. You’ve got to help me.’

  As she ran and waved and screamed at the cyclists, a new noise grabbed her attention. Alice looked over her shoulder. A car was approaching. A terrified murmur escaped her mouth.

  Alice began running faster and faster and faster. She knew she had to run like never before. She had to get to the safety of the cyclists and away from the car. And away from Kelly Lyle.

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Alice could see the cyclists’ faces now: a man and a woman who looked about the same age as Nana Hardy. She felt sure they’d have a phone and would let her use it to call Daddy.

  Panting, almost sobbing, she looked back and saw that Lyle’s car had slowed to a crawl behind her. Kelly Lyle was watching her through the windscreen, smiling almost to herself.

  Alice hoped if she could get close enough to the friendly cyclists Kelly Lyle would leave her alone.

  Finally, the cyclists looked up, smiled, and waved back at Alice. Their smiles changed to looks of concern as they realised the young girl running towards them was in distress. They stopped reading their maps and watched her.

  The sound of Lyle’s car behind her grew louder. Alice heard it pick up speed.

  Alice began crying now as she ran, tears almost blinding her. Her side was hurting, her cut foot throbbed, her legs ached, but she pushed herself harder, forcing one leg in front of the other. Alice could hear the car getting closer; it was right behind her. She wasn’t going make it; she wouldn’t get there in time. The friendly couple were too far away. Alice didn’t feel fast anymore. She felt slow, heavy and clumsy. “Please help me,” she called. Her voice sounded high and strange in her ears.

  Still running flat-out, she turned and looked over her shoulder again. Lyle’s car was only inches away from her now. Her breath burst from her chest in a guttural sob of anguish and frustration.

  Then, to her surprise, the car moved out from behind her and came alongside. Lyle looked at Alice then looked straight ahead at the friendly couple.

  The car began to roar as it accelerated faster and faster.

  Alice watched in horror as it hurtled towards the couple, then suddenly veered off the road and ploughed straight into them.

  Alice was rooted to the spot as she saw the man smashed aside and the woman crushed beneath the wheels of the car. She then watched, terrified
, as Lyle drove the car back and forth over the helpless couple. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed in shock.

  Lyle reversed the car back up the road until it was alongside Alice. She got out and walked around the car and lifted the sobbing Alice like a sack of mail. She carried her to the car, yanked open the rear passenger door and placed her on the back seat.

  “They died because of you,” said Lyle, leaning over her. “You caused that.”

  Alice closed her eyes and pictured the bloodied and broken bodies at the side of the road. She began to shake uncontrollably, and her breathing became rapid and out of control. She thought she might be sick.

  Lyle stroked Alice’s hair and said, “Slow your breathing. You’re safe now. I told you you’d be safe with me. I don’t know why you ran away. All you’ve done is waste our time together. You know this means I have to punish you, don’t you?”

  Alice stared helplessly into space and paid no attention as Lyle popped a tablet in her mouth and asked her to swallow it. She handed Alice a bottle of water.

  “Drink this water. The tablet will calm you down. Just relax. You are going to want to get some rest. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

  Alice’s limbs felt heavy as her body sank into the car seat. She didn’t want to give up, but she’d done her best, and it wasn’t good enough. What else could she do? Where was Daddy? Why had nobody come to rescue her? Would she ever see Monica or Faith again?

  She closed her eyes and heard Lyle put the car into gear once more.

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  The nursing home had once been an inn rumoured to have been frequented by highwayman Dick Turpin in 1736 while he evaded authorities.