Hard Truth

by Jay Gill

  Over the years the property had passed through many hands before being converted to a hotel in 1957. More recently, it had been renovated and converted to a premium residential care facility for the elderly. Currently, according to a sign, work was underway to allow an additional twenty-four rooms and a large conservatory. Also, the gardens were being tastefully landscaped, and an outdoor theatre added.

  My car slid on the car park gravel as I came to a halt in one of the many parking spaces. I jumped out of the car and ran to reception.

  “I’m here to see a resident called Mrs Allerton,” I said.

  “James Hardy?” replied the duty nurse. “I’m Nurse Holt. I’ve been expecting you. Follow me.”

  I followed her along several corridors to a spacious room belonging to Mrs Allerton.

  Nurse Holt turned to me and spoke in a low voice. “I’m not sure how much help she will be. Mrs Allerton has memory difficulties. I did explain this to your colleague on the phone.”

  I held open the door and said, “Would you mind waiting outside while I speak with Mrs Allerton? A young girl has gone missing, and there is a possibility she can help with the investigation.”

  “I’ll be at my desk behind reception if I can be of any assistance.”

  I thanked her and closed the door, and Nurse Holt returned to her duties.

  Mrs Allerton was seated in one of a pair of armchairs, a blanket over her knees. She watched me with intense curiosity. She pointed a crooked finger at me and said, “They tell everyone I’ve lost my mind, you know. I might be a little forgetful, I might even repeat myself occasionally, but I haven’t lost my marbles. Not completely, as far as I know.”

  Mrs Allerton smiled sweetly and gestured towards a chest of drawers. “I know why you’re here, and we’ll get to that, but before you sit down, be a dear and open that wash bag. The one on top of the chest of drawers there, next to my books.”

  I opened the wash bag, showed her a small bottle of brandy and said, “Is this what you’re wanting, Mrs Allerton?”

  She grinned and nodded. “Yes, yes. There is a glass and a cup by the sink; you can have the cup. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a drinking partner. And call me Theresa.”

  I poured us both a stiff shot. Theresa giggled as she took her glass and raised it.

  “Good health,” she said. “You know, there’s a black market in this place for booze. Prohibition always fails.”

  She sipped the brandy and watched me as I sipped mine. Patting the seat beside her, she said, “Come and sit here. You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

  I wanted quick answers, and I wasn’t feeling patient in the slightest, but I decided the way to get what I needed was to listen to Theresa.

  “Kelly was a beautiful baby,” she began without prompting. “I couldn’t have asked for an easier child. She was never any trouble. All Kelly ever wanted to do was please her father and me. She adored him. She would help him on the farm, and they’d spend hours together.

  “Sadly, that all changed when his drinking started. For some reason, it got out of control. He was a good man before that. The drink made him paranoid, depressed and violent. Extremely violent. So much so that I feared for Kelly’s safety, and my own. I’d been thinking about it a long time, but one night —Kelly must have only been 11 years old at the time — I’d had enough and so I waited until he was asleep and I lifted Kelly out of her bed and attempted to leave with her.

  “Unfortunately, I woke him when I started the car. He came after me with a shotgun. He fired a warning shot at the car, which caused me to swerve and stall the engine. I got it going again and reversed the car, but by the time I’d straightened up, he was in front of us pointing the shotgun at the windscreen. I can still picture the fury in his eyes. I know he would have killed us both.”

  Theresa took a long sip of brandy and said, “He dragged Kelly from the car and pointed the gun at me. He told me to leave and never come back. Leaving Kelly with him is the biggest regret of my life. I can never forgive myself for leaving my little girl with that monster. Kelly is who she is today because of me.”

  I hesitated before asking, “Do you think she killed her father?”

  Theresa took a tissue from her cardigan sleeve and dabbed her nose. “She did what she had to. Don’t you see? She was still a child when I abandoned her. I’m to blame for everything that followed, not her. Not my Kelly.”

  Theresa held out her glass, and I topped it up. I leaned forward and said, “Kelly has my daughter, my little girl. Can you tell me where she is?”

  The old lady’s eyes brimmed with tears. She reached down beside her chair and pulled out a plain envelope. With a trembling hand, she passed it to me and said, “Kelly asked me to give you this. She said you’d come.”

  I took the envelope and feared what I might find inside.

  Theresa said, “I am sorry. I hope you find your little girl. I lost my Kelly, the real Kelly, a long, long time ago. I hate the thought of your child being separated from the ones she loves.” She took my cup, poured the rest of my brandy into her glass and drank it down.

  I got to my feet, put the bottle of brandy back in the wash bag, washed the cup and glass and left Theresa to her thoughts. She didn’t look up at me as I left the room.

  Alone in my car, I ripped open the envelope. Inside was the address of Long Meadow Farm. I punched it into the satnav. With my heart pounding in my chest, I prepared myself for getting Alice back and the next stage of Lyle’s game.

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Alice opened her eyes and could see nothing. She was in complete darkness. Her mind was confused. She knew she was no longer in the farmhouse. She could smell the water before she felt it. Terror took over as she tried to understand her surroundings. She tried to scream for help but her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. She splashed awkwardly around and could feel walls all around her, a low ceiling of some sort over her head.

  Alice attempted to move her legs; they felt numb and heavy. Her body felt awkward. She tried to straighten up but couldn’t lift herself. After a lot of effort, she shifted herself slightly, which caused her head to slump forward and her face to fall into the water.

  Using all her concentration, she managed to lift her face out of the water and tilt her head back. She coughed and spluttered as she gasped for air.

  She was scared to move again, but she needed to sit upright. Pushing her feet was useless as she was barely able to feel her legs. Her head began to spin and she felt sick. She was going to vomit.

  Alice pressed her hands against the walls. Scratching with her fingers, she realised they felt like hard plastic. She was in a container, a plastic prison that was filling with water. She tried to stay calm, but she could hear her heart pounding in her ears, almost as if it was outside her body. She took a shaky breath and tried with all her might to stand up, but nothing worked as it should. Her arms and legs felt like rubber. Her head spun queasily and, almost with relief, she shut her eyes.

  Alice regained consciousness with her head pressed against the side of the container. For a moment she hoped it had all been a nightmare, that she would open her eyes and find herself back in her room. The smell of plastic and vomit filled her nostrils. This nightmare was real.

  How long had she been like this? She must get out. Again, she tried to stand. She could move a little more now, but her body was still too heavy.

  Alice tried to scream but once more only managed a faint whisper.

  A slow but consistent flow of water was coming from over her head. With a start, she realised it was rising. Frantically, she tried again and again to lift her body higher in the water, aware that if she didn’t get out, she would drown and no one would ever know.

  After several minutes of unsuccessful effort, Alice sat still and tilted her chin up to keep her face out of the water.

  Outside, she heard a noise. It was definitely a car.

  Was it Lyle?

  Alice reme
mbered the friendly cyclists and what Lyle had done to them. She now realised this watery prison was her punishment for trying to escape.

  Swallowing back her tears, she told herself Lyle wouldn’t win. She had to believe it. Alice called out again, and this time her voice was stronger. She yelled over and over until her head began spinning again.

  She remembered the tablet Lyle had given her and realised that this was why she felt weird. Nodding to herself, she slowed her breathing and focused on getting her emotions under control. Passing out again would be dangerous. If she did, she might drown.

  Rain began drumming on the roof of the container. She could hear it loud and getting louder, and felt the water level creeping up. The storm was bringing more rain into her container.

  Staying upright was hard. Alice tried to lean forward, pulling her feet underneath her, so she was on her knees. If she could do that, she could lift her body higher out of the water. Her arms felt weak, but she managed to grab her left ankle and pull it towards her and then underneath her. She reached out for the other ankle. This leg felt numb, like it didn’t belong to her.

  She tried to move her right ankle under her, but there wasn’t enough room. The sole of her sandal pressed against the side of the container. The more she pulled it, the more her leg became wedged.

  Alice tried to lean forward and shift her position, but it was useless. She would have to wait and hope she got rescued, or pray that Lyle decided to let her out.

  Either way, she realised, all she had to do was wait. She could do that.

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Outside, the rain was falling harder and the water around her was rising faster. Alice shifted her shivering body and found that she could move her limbs a little more. She got both feet beneath her and tried to squat. Pressing her hands against the walls on either side, she lifted herself until the back of her head and neck could go no further.

  She poked her finger into a hole high up on one side of the container. This was where the cold water had trickled down her back. She ran her fingers up farther, along the underside of the lid, and felt several more small holes that were letting in air and more rainwater.

  Pressing her shoulders against the lid, Alice placed her hands against the sides for balance and repeatedly pushed. She strained and felt the lid shift slightly. Using her shoulder and a hand as well, she pushed again and felt the lid lift a little more.

  She felt sure the lid was thin plastic. She wondered if she could pop it off if she hit it hard enough.

  Alice pushed and pressed and thumped the lid. Her shoulders ached, but she kept going. The lid began to flex on one side. Alice yelled and got angry as she struggled. She thumped the lid, hitting it with all her strength. Phwup! The lid flexed and the seal on one edge released. There was a small gasping sound as fresh air poured in. She breathed deeply. It smelled good and gave her hope.

  With renewed energy, she pushed on the lid again, but she couldn’t make it budge any more. She slipped her fingers through the gap. Pressing her face to the opening, she breathed deep lungfuls of the fresh, clean air.

  Alice tried to run her fingers under the rim of the lid and release it that way, but the lid got tighter and pinched her fingers the further round she moved them.

  She tilted her head and shouted through the gap. “Help! Hello? Can anyone hear me? I’m in here. I need help. Please help me.” She yelled and listened and yelled again. Nothing.

  She ran her fingers around the edge once more. She guessed the lid was fastened down in some way.

  She peered through the gap in the lid for some time. It felt to her like a little bit of freedom. Occasionally, she called out, but for a long time she simply stared and listened to the noise of the rain as it fell and gathered and trickled.

  A noise snapped Alice back into the moment. It sounded like a car door. Had she imagined it? Or was it thunder? She held her breath and listened. The drumming and trickling of the rain were too loud; the sound of the water swishing and splashing, added to the sound of her own heart pounding, made it hard to hear anything.

  Whatever it was, she decided she’d imagined it or dreamed it.

  A new noise caught her attention. Something was squeaking and rustling. She yanked her fingers in from the edge and sank down in the water.

  Rats! Alice recognised the sound. She’d heard it before in the garden of their old London house. The man who had come to poison them told her they were living under the garden shed. She hated rats. They were dirty and creepy. She prayed they wouldn’t come down the pipe looking for her. If they did, they’d fall into the water and climb all over her, with their sharp teeth and claws.

  Alice took off her sweater and used the sleeve to plug the pipe where the water came out. The hole was probably too small for a rat, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She should have thought of that before, she chided herself; it would not only stop the rats but the water too.

  The water was up to her neck now, and the rain outside sounded heavier. Alice decided that was okay, at least for now. If the container filled with water, she could lift the lid and let it flow out; that would stop her drowning.

  She wondered what would happen if nobody came for her. If she fell asleep, she would probably drown; she couldn’t stay awake forever. She started thinking about all the ways she might die. Would the rats get her? Would she starve to death? Would she freeze to death? She didn’t want to die here. Not like this. Daddy would come. He would find her. Yes, he would come. He had to. She hoped he would come soon. The cold was making her feel awfully tired.

  Alice began to cry. The tears felt hot on her damp, icy face.

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  The satnav had got me to the area in which Long Meadow Farm was meant to be situated, but I was now relying on instinct to locate the farmhouse.

  The foul weather hampered my progress; the rain and darkness made it difficult to see signs and entrances on the narrow country roads. After a few false turns and a lot of despairing, I saw the sign for Long Meadow Farm. I turned onto a single-track road towards the farmhouse.

  Once I could see the farmhouse, I turned off the headlights and approached slowly. I pulled up at the side of the lane and sat in the car looking at it; the only sign of life was a flickering glow from a window. I turned the windscreen wipers back on to get a better view.

  For what felt like the thousandth time I looked down at the envelope and card Theresa Allerton had given me. I’d memorised the card, which, beneath the address, read Come alone, James, or Alice dies. For her sake, sooner the better.

  I took out my mobile phone and thought about calling Emma. My training told me I should call for backup or at the very least notify Emma of my whereabouts. But Kelly Lyle had been one step ahead of me at every turn, and I dared not. I tucked the phone back in my inside pocket.

  I turned off the car but left the keys in the ignition. I got out and ran through the mud towards the farmhouse. The front door was slightly open, and as I peered inside, I could feel the warmth escaping.

  I wiped the rain from my face and gently pushed the door fully open. I took a step inside and looked around. I was in a large kitchen. In the centre was a dining table and chairs, and to my right was an Aga. Directly across the room was another door.

  I moved quickly and quietly across the room to the second door and listened. I could hear a scraping sound, like something was being moved across the floor.

  All I could think about was Alice and getting her away from Kelly Lyle. I pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  A fire was blazing in a huge stone fireplace. Kelly Lyle placed a fire poker back in its stand on the hearth and turned to me. “Come in, James. You got here quickly. And perfect timing – I was just putting another log on the fire.” She was dressed from head to toe in black, and on seeing me she spread out her arms to show she was unarmed.

  I didn’t care one way or another. I ran at her, grabbed her and forced her face down to the floor. I held her down with m
y knee and lifted her arm high up behind her. Kelly lay still and made no effort to get away. I could hear she was in pain, which gave me a surge of satisfaction. I fastened her hands with plasticuffs.

  “Careful, James,” she said. “I know you must be cross with me, but don’t go hurting me. If you hurt me, I promise you little Alice will suffer.”

  “Where’s Alice?” I screamed at her.

  “All in good time. Now, you’re hurting me. Let me go. We have a lot to talk about.”

  “You’re not going anywhere, you evil bitch. You’re under arrest. And if you don’t tell me where Alice is right now,” I pressed my knee down hard on the side her head, pushing her face into the cold stone floor, “I may decide to start breaking every bone in your body.”

  I moved my knee to allow her to speak.

  “That’s the spirit – you’re going to need that. Alice doesn’t have much time; I think you should let me go now. If you hurt me, Alice will die an agonising death. If you arrest me, Alice will die. If I sense or see another police officer, Alice will die. And if you kill me, guess what? Ditto. The only way you’re getting Alice back is by letting me go. I intend to walk out of here tonight a free woman. But before any of that, you and I need to talk about the whole point of this little game of mine. You should be excited, James. I am going to reveal why you’re really here tonight. Now help me up and untie my hands.”

  I had all my weight pressing down on Lyle. It took everything I had not to grab her by the hair, repeatedly smash her face into the stone floor and make her tell me where Alice was.

  Reluctantly, I got up and lifted Kelly Lyle to her feet. I removed the plastic tie around her wrist and watched her brush herself off as she looked me up and down.

  “I think you’ve put on a pound or two. Living the good life by the coast will do that to a person. Don’t get me wrong; you’re still a hunk, but – ”