He tried shouting but the tape only allowed so much movement. Besides, he was tired. Bone-deep exhausted. Was this how it would end?
“Wakey wakey.”
A drenching of ice-cold water snapped him back to reality. Ryan stood in front of him, laughing. He walked round to the back of the wheelchair and released the brakes. “Taking you somewhere nicer.”
The words barely registered with Len. “Son, please,” he croaked.
“Not long now.” Ryan dragged the chair to the far corner of the barn and undid Len’s bindings. He threw him on the floor of the stable, aiming roughly for the rotten sleeping bag in the corner. “Not like you’re capable of running away is it?” He manhandled Len into a sitting position then squatted down to face him.
“OK, so here’s what going to happen...” Ryan recoiled. “Jesus, what’s that smell?” He looked down and saw the infected wound. “For fuck’s sake!” He stepped away, unable to bear the smell. Once he’d regained his composure he took a closer look. “Shit, that’s not good.” He turned and raced up the dirt track back to the pub. Once inside he raided the bathroom cabinet in search of a first aid kit or something to treat the wound with, swearing under his breath constantly. Finding nothing of any use in the flat he entered the bar and grabbed some towels. It was the only thing he could think of.
“You alright?” Janice asked.
“Fine. Where’s the first aid kit?”
“What?”
“FIRST. AID. KIT. Where is it?” He closed in on her, making it clear not to mess with him.
Janice, shaking, walked slowly backwards and reached under the till. She grabbed a green synthetic bag and thrust it at him without a word. Snatching it from her he exited through the back door and stomped back down to the barn. He tore the kit open and looked for bandages or something that would help. His hand found a bottle of antiseptic liquid. He unscrewed the cap and made his way to the stable. Len was unconscious again. ‘Not for long,’ thought Ryan.
Approaching Len, he poured the fluid directly into the fetid wound. A raw guttural scream escaped from Len, ripping the tape from his mouth in the process. Ryan thought he was having some kind of seizure as his body jerked violently. He forced his hand across Len’s mouth and held it there until the screaming subsided to a low moan. Unravelling the bandages, he wrapped one tightly around the knee. He stood back to admire his handy work. Satisfied, he went to his car and retrieved the water he’d brought with him, along with energy bars and painkillers. He sat and patiently waited for Len to rouse.
“Here, take this.” He forced tramadol down his dad’s throat and passed him an energy bar, insisting he ate it whilst Ryan watched. The smell still hovered but intermingled with antiseptic, vomit and human waste. Realising that his old man would be there longer than expected, and no longer strapped into the wheelchair he pulled an old bucket into the stable.
“Use this,” he instructed Len, having no desire to sit with him any longer.
Heading back to the bar, he checked his mobile phone. No missed calls. He had planned on getting Len to ring Molly but clearly that wasn’t going to happen with Len in his current state. He’d try again tomorrow. He dialled Kate’s number, hoping for an update on Jack. Why that fucker couldn’t have just died was beyond him. He couldn’t risk Jack revealing everything but wasn’t sure what to do about him. He couldn’t go finish him off now, could he? Would it raise too much suspicion? Right now it all looked like an accident. Hadn’t Kate said something about short-term memory loss? That would buy him a bit of time.
“Hey Ryan.” Kate sounded tired.
“Hey, just wondering how you’re holding up?” He was getting good at this.
“Oh, not bad. Hoping Jack comes home today.”
“Aye? How is he?”
“He’s OK, considering. Still can’t remember what happened.”
‘Yes, get in ya beauty.’ “Oh that’s sad. Do you think it will come back to him?”
“Not sure, time will tell I guess,” Kate sighed. “I’m really sorry to ask this but do you think you could mind the café when I go pick him up?”
‘Can’t do any harm to be there when he gets back, can it?’ he thought. “Aye, course. No bother.”
“Brilliant Ryan. Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“I’ll be by shortly.”
Ryan ended the call. There wasn’t much more he could now but wait for Daz’s call anyway, and he couldn’t bear to be around Janice. He grabbed his jacket from the bar and headed to the door.
“You away again?”
His hand stalled on the handle. “Aye, not that it’s any of your business.”
“We need a new first aid kit, do we?”
“Aye, I’ll pick one up while I’m out.” He left as quickly as he could to discourage any further questions. “Nosey bitch,” he muttered as he drove off. About time she was taught a lesson.
Ryan arrived at the café and saw Kate already had her coat on.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Jack’s just phoned, he can come home!” Kate was clearly over the moon.
“Great. Off you go then, tell him I’ll pop up and see him soon.”
Kate left with a quick kiss to the cheek and hurried out of the door. Ryan hung his jacket up and headed into the kitchen.
30
Kate held the door open as wide as she could for Jack to hobble through on crutches. Finally his blood pressure had dropped to a reasonable level and he had been allowed home with strict instructions to rest.
The close-knit community had rallied around, and Jack’s little cottage had been rearranged to include a makeshift bedroom downstairs. The fridge was packed with homemade meals and someone had even left a bottle of his favourite tipple. Jack felt overwhelmed as he limped through the front door. He caught Kate staring at him.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing. I just wondered if coming back here would trigger any memories?”
“Not so far but give me chance to take ma coat off!”
Kate stepped back. “Sorry. You’re right. Here, let me help you.” She stepped forward again to help him but he was having none of it.
“Away with ya lassie. I can take my own bloody coat off! ”
Kate laughed and stepped into the living room. Jack slowly followed her, still getting to grips with his sticks as he called them.
“Mr Wheeler has set up a camp bed in the living room, just until you can get up and down stairs, and the fridge is packed with food.” Kate passed the living room and into the galley kitchen. She opened the door to the larder and pulled a casserole out of the fridge. “All you need to do is heat it up in the microwave.”
Jack nodded, and sat heavily on the couch, propping his sticks at the side of him. He had been nervous at the thought of coming home but he was also ready to start his life again. He needed routine, and to be back in the community he loved. Like Kate, he wondered if returning would help with his memory. He glanced around the room and everything looked just as remembered, as far as he could tell. He suddenly felt inexplicably tired. Maybe it was the journey from the hospital or the drugs working their way through his system. He could feel his eyes closing, and his head started to drop forward.
Kate watched on from the kitchen door and saw him nodding off. Quietly, she walked back into the living room and placed a blanket across his knees before creeping out of the front door.
Jack woke with a start a couple of hours later, stiff from the awkward position he’d fallen asleep in. It took a few minutes for him to come round completely. He stretched the best he could, triggering pain in his leg and ribs. Reaching for his sticks, he heaved himself up and headed to the kitchen. He set about making a cup of tea, clumsy and awkward with his sticks. He opened the larder door and stepped in to get the milk out of the fridge. He paused, glancing down the cellar steps. He felt an icy chill run along his spine but he still had no recollection of his fall. Frustrated, he took
the milk carton and slammed the larder door shut. He left the carton on the worktop, not wishing to tempt fate. Once he’d figured out how to carry the cup of tea and manage the crutches he headed back to the couch, painstakingly slow and spilling more tea as he went along. Kate had left painkillers on the little coffee table, and there was just enough tea left to rinse down a couple of tablets. Dragging his legs onto the couch, he sat back and tried to think back. He must have dozed off at some point, and he woke with a start. He tried to sit up, the painkillers taking the edge off the pain in his ribs, and swung his legs onto the floor. Grabbing his crutches he stumbled to the hallway and rummaged in his coat pocket. He’d had a fleeting thought on waking that he’d been on a bus. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. Limping back into the living room, he smoothed it out as best he could.
“Now why would I go to Inverness?” he wondered out loud as he read the ticket. He looked at the wall calendar and tried to work out the dates. He’d gone there the day of his accident. But why?
He couldn’t figure it out, and sat staring at the ticket, willing memories to come back to him. “Think, damn you.” He knew getting annoyed wouldn’t find the answer, but he had to make sense of his confused thoughts. He felt as though he had some of the right pieces but just couldn’t get them in the right order. He reached over to the drawer underneath the coffee table and pulled out a pad and pen. He only ever used it to write his shopping list or racing bets. At the top of a clean page he wrote ‘Inverness’ along with the dates and times. Moving down he wrote the name ‘Ryan’. He still didn’t have a clear recollection of who he was but he could remember his reaction when Kate first mentioned his name. Hadn’t Kate said something about him being Len Albright’s son? Did she mention he was helping out whilst Len was in hospital? He added ‘Len’ and ‘hospital’ to the list. He’d ask Kate when he saw her next. He was exhausted again with the effort and tried desperately to fight off sleep. He had a sense of unease that he could feel in the pit of his stomach. It felt familiar yet strange. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Before he knew it, he had drifted back off to sleep, notepad slipping from his fingers and tumbling to the floor.
31
Ryan unlocked the padlock and slid back the crossbar. Despite his best attempts it was still rickety and wouldn’t take much effort to kick it in. Not that Ryan was bothered. The charade would be over in a matter of days, and no one was looking for Len. He entered the dusty space and walked to the rear of the building where Len was still safely ensconced in one of the dilapidated stables. Len was just where he’d left him; shivering in a corner but for once he wasn’t unconscious. He looked dishevelled and forlorn, like a broken man. He unfastened the stable door and stood looking at his father. He was disgusted by the sight of him.
Len lifted his head slowly at the sound of footsteps. “Ryan?”
“Now then old man, you’re looking well.” Ryan laughed, bending down to inspect the leg wound. It looked considerably better, the antiseptic seeming to have done its job. The skin was a natural pink, rather than the livid red it had been previously. Len flinched as Ryan adjusted the bandage over the hole.
“How much longer...” croaked Len.
“I need one small favour old man.” Ryan stood and took his phone from his coat pocket. “I need you to speak to our Molly.” Ryan scrolled through his phone and pulled up Molly’s contact details. “Just a few words, letting her know you’re fine and you’ll see her soon.” Ryan looked at his dad sprawled on the dirty floor. He kicked his good leg. “Did you hear me?”
Len jerked and let out a low moan. “I need a drink.”
Ryan pulled out a bottle of water and passed it to him. “Here, and eat this too.” He threw an energy bar at him. Len grabbed at them both and gorged himself on the only sustenance he’d had in days.
“So, you gonna speak to Molly then?”
“No.”
“Ha, let me rephrase that. You will speak to Molly, and this is what you’ll say. Are you listening?” He grabbed Len’s hair and pulled his head up, remnants of the energy bar stuck to his chin. Len grunted but didn’t answer as he reached for more water.
“I need you to speak to Molly. I want you to tell her that you’re at Sheildaig Lodge. You’re recovering from your op and that you’re perfectly happy where you are. I visit you regularly and you have all your cronies with you.” Ryan had sat on the dusty floor and looked straight into Len’s face. “Did you get all that?”
Len blinked. “Why would I do anything for you?”
Ryan reached into the bag he had brought with him. He pulled out a cloth black hood, the kind used in kidnaps. “Simple. Do you want to live? Do you want to see daylight again?” He shook the hood and moved to place it over Len’s head. “See, I think I’ve been quite fair until now old man.”
Len snorted. “Right.”
Ryan pulled something else out of the bag: rope. He ran it between his fingers. “It could all end so differently for you.” He saw the fear pass across Len’s eyes. Finally the message was getting through. He pulled the hood down and looped the rope around Len’s neck, tugging slightly. Len started to struggle but was weak and exhausted. Ryan let it go and removed the hood. “So you gonna play nice and speak to Molly?”
Terrified, Len nodded. “Wh...what... what am I saying?”
Ryan repeated his message. “And don’t even think of saying something I haven’t told you to say.” Ryan ran the rope through his fingers again. He passed the phone to Len.
“Hello... hello?”
“Molly? It’s Dad.”
“Oh thank God, how are you?”
“I’m fine hen, fine. ” Len glanced up at Ryan who continued to run the rope through his hands.
“Are you still at Sheildaig or are you back home now?”
Len paused. What had Ryan said? That he was at Sheildaig? “Yes I’m at Sheildaig but don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” He let the sentence hang, willing Molly to pick up on his tone of voice. He could hear his grandchildren playing in the background. “How are you?”
I’m fine dad, just been worrying about you.”
“Oh I’m alright, don’t worry.” He swallowed, trying to generate some moisture in his mouth.
“I was going to drive through and see you at the weekend.”
Ryan shook his head vigorously, pulling the rope tight in his hand.
“No! I mean no, there’s no need to do that. I think I’ll be home soon. Why don’t you call around then?”
“Only if you’re sure. Michael’s away again and the girls...”
Ryan swiped his finger across his neck, indicating that Len should end the call.
Len interrupted Molly as she continued to tell him about her busy life. “Listen hen, I need to be off. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” Tears started to pool in his eyes and his voice almost gave way.
“It’s so lovely to hear from you dad. Thanks for calling and I promise to come through and see you when you get home.”
Len cleared his throat. “OK hen, speak soon.”
Ryan snatched the phone from his dad’s hand and hit the disconnect button.
“Happy now?” asked Len.
“Yep. That’s all I needed.”
“There’ll be more than Molly looking for me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong old man. No one is looking for you, no one.” Ryan squatted down. “How does that make you feel? All those years serving behind that bar and not one person is wondering where you are.”
“Molly must have been wondering.”
“Interfering more like, just like the rest of you.”
Len looked Ryan in the eye, hoping to see some trace of his son, the one he knew from years back. There was nothing on his face but hatred. “So what now?” It was useless begging for release, he accepted that, but he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want this to be the sum of his life.
Ryan stood and laughed. “I’ll be gone for a few days so I’ll leave you
some water and food.” He upended the carrier bag. More energy bars fell out and he kicked them towards Len. “There’s water here too.” He lifted a couple of bottles closer. “There’s no use shouting or trying to escape so don’t even think about it.”
Len doubted he had the energy anyway, and pain was still coursing through him.
“Ryan...” he croaked at his son’s receding back.
“What?” Ryan pulled the lower part of the stable door closed and re-attached the padlock. He leaned over the door, bored and tired of the stench.
“I just... I...” Len had forgotten what he was going to say. “Doesn’t matter,” he said dejectedly. Even his own mind was failing him.
Ryan laughed and walked away, making sure the barn door was firmly locked behind him.
32
It had been such a long time since she’d seen her sister that Kate was filled with a rush of love as Fiona closed her car door and came running across the road. The two sisters hugged and jumped up and down like giddy teenagers. They both started talking at once.
“How are...”
“So good to see...”
They collapsed in fits of giggles. Kate hooked her arm through Fiona’s and escorted her to the café.
“Joe, look who’s here!”
Joe was playing with his Game Boy. He looked up and his face lit up when he saw Aunty Fi. He hurtled across the café and received the biggest hug.
“Gosh, you’ve grown!” exclaimed Fiona.
Joe pulled away, smiling. “I didn’t know you were coming.” He couldn’t believe it. Aunty Fiona was one of his favourite people and wrote to him all the time.
Kate stepped in. “I thought it would be a nice surprise,” she laughed. “Here. Let Aunty Fi sit down, she’s had a long drive.”
“God no, I’ve been sat down for hours. I need to stretch my legs.”
Gill and Mairee came out from the kitchen, watching the family reunion. Kate made the introductions then ushered Fiona upstairs to the flat. Once inside, the sisters hugged again and Kate went to put the kettle on. Once the excitement had died down slightly, and Joe had stopped bouncing between them, they finally had some time on their own.
The Lie She Told: All Kate wanted was a peaceful life, all Ryan wanted to do was destroy it. (Thornes series Book 1) Page 12
