Save Her, page 16
Sophie rubbed at her temples, feeling a migraine brewing. It made the journey to work even harder, blurring her vision as the pain in her head became insistent. It was so draining, trying to put a brave face on for Flora. All she wanted to do was just grab her and run. She could explain everything once they had escaped somewhere safe. But she had to be cleverer than that. She had to duck and dive and gradually edge her way out of the tangled web that belonged to the Cavendish family. If she moved too quickly or made too much noise, she would be entangled for ever, a victim for the Cavendish family to devour at their leisure.
35
It was turning into an obsession. Every few minutes she tapped her phone to life and opened up the camera app. She toggled through the different views, her nerves settling with each swipe of her finger. There was no one in the house.
It had taken all her willpower not to mention the cameras to Sam. So many times, it had been on the tip of her tongue to tell him. Deception did not come naturally to her. The lie was filling her up until she was bursting from the seams. She prided herself on never having lied to Sam their entire relationship. It hurt that that would no longer be the case.
She was lying in their spare room. Flora couldn’t face their own bed unless Sam was there. It was only his presence that could stop her thinking about the worms in their bed. When he was there, she could wrap her arms around his chest so that she felt only soft, warm skin and this would stop her imagining the cold, wet bodies of the squirming creatures. Without him, she was unable to sleep, plagued by the smell of dirt and convinced if she closed her eyes, someone would come back and put worms in her bed once more. He had said he wasn’t going to go anywhere again but she had overheard Sam on the phone to a client, trying to explain why he couldn’t be there for the launch. She felt so bad that it was her fear stopping him from being there. Flora had laid a hand on his arm and he’d turned to look at her. ‘Just go, honey. I promise. I’ll be fine.’
Covering his phone with his hand, he looked unsure. ‘I don’t think I should. It’s not safe.’
‘I’ll be fine. I’ll have Sophie. We can’t just put our lives on hold.’
‘Only if you are sure. I am only going for one night though.’
Starting to drift to sleep, Flora heard the front door open. She knew it was the front door as she could hear the familiar dragging as it crossed the welcome mat she had bought. Friends welcome, relatives by appointment. She had only bought it because she knew ‘tacky’ things like that drove Cecelia mad.
Was Sam back? Surely, he’d have told her if he was going to be back early. He’d have shouted out, wouldn’t he? Maybe he had but she could not hear him over her heartbeat racing frantically in her ear. Flora wanted to call out, to check if it was him, but her fear silenced her.
Slam.
The front door slammed shut and she jumped, her phone falling from her hand. Grabbing it off the floor, she lunged toward the bathroom, locking the door behind her. For the first time, she was grateful that all the bedrooms had en suite bathrooms. Turning on the mirror light, she winced as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. Unlocking her iPhone, she stabbed at the camera app. The first picture was of the front door from the inside. There was no one there. She was about to switch to the next camera when the light went out, plunging the room into darkness. The only light was from the glow of her phone. Looking down at the screen, the app showed an error message where there had previously been a live feed of the front door.
Cameras disconnected, please check your wifi.
Her phone was no longer connected to the wifi either. Someone has cut the power to the house, she thought. Irrationally, she ran to the window, even though she knew she could not jump from it, it was far too high. The window was textured for privacy and the yellow light of the street light was fractured by the pattern, but Flora was sure a black figure was walking down her driveway, away from the house. With shaky hands and a feeling of déjà vu, she called Sophie.
It didn’t take long for her to hear the key in the front door, the scraping of the welcome mat and the bang of the front door. But this time there was no sinister silence.
‘Flora?’
Flora didn’t answer, her teeth were chattering, and she was trying really hard to hold it together. This was one time too many that she was sitting in the bathroom feeling vulnerable and frightened. Why was this happening to her? She wasn’t a bad person. Did Cecelia hate her that much? Was it definitely Cecelia? The unanswered questions were overwhelming her. The light came back on, startling her.
Hearing Sophie’s footsteps on the staircase, she unlocked the door and ran from the room, meeting her friend just as she breasted the staircase. Flora flung herself into her arms. ‘I can’t take it anymore, Sophie,’ she cried. ‘I’m so scared all the time.’
‘Shh, shh,’ soothed Sophie, holding her tightly and stroking her hair. ‘It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.’
Flora let herself be led to the spare room. ‘How did you know I was sleeping in here?’
‘Well, first of all, I know you. Second of all, Sam’s not here. Third of all, wait that doesn’t sound right. Thirdly?’ She nodded. ‘Yes, thirdly, I don’t think I’d be sleeping in a bed that had worms in it for a very long time. I would have burnt the bed, to be honest, but that’s just me.’
They cuddled up in bed and the fear that had gripped Flora so tightly started to release its hold.
‘Now you’ve calmed down do you want to tell me what happened?’
Flora pulled herself from Sophie’s arms and rested her head on the headboard. Exhaustion pulled at her: being terrified was extremely draining. ‘I don’t really know. I heard the front door open. Then it slammed shut. Then the power went out.’
‘Didn’t you see who it was on the cameras?’
‘No. They cut the power to the house so they stopped working. Someone was in the house again, Sophie.’ Her fear, never far away now, rose up once more. The futility of her situation brought her to tears. She was at a loss as to what to do.
‘I think we should call the police,’ said Sophie.
‘Not now. I’m not ready for that. I can’t think straight. I just want to sleep and then talk about it tomorrow when I’m not exhausted. You’ll stay with me, right?’
‘Of course I will. I’m going to ring Sam. He needs to come back home. He said he wasn’t going to leave you again.’ Sophie’s face clouded with anger.
‘That was my fault. I told him to go.’
Sophie went into the other room and Flora could hear her voice muffled through the walls. She hoped Sophie wasn’t being rude to Sam. He really hadn’t wanted to leave her, she had insisted.
What was she thinking, encouraging Sam to go away when the last time had ended so badly? Look at what her determination not to let fear run her life had done. It had literally left the door wide open for someone to scare her more. Flora tried hard to fight the fatigue that was drawing her eyelids together, but the fog of sleep was descending.
Flora woke up the next morning with Sophie, fast asleep on one side of her and a fully dressed Sam, asleep on the other side, each of them cocooning her with an arm. She placed a hand on each of them and felt happier than she had in a long time. Her life was such a rollercoaster. One minute she would be scared out of her mind and then the next minute she would be filled with a determination not to be afraid. Swinging from emotions was draining but seeing both Sophie and Sam lying next to her put things into perspective. She had two people that loved her. She wouldn’t let anyone take that away from her. Not even Cecelia.
She could withstand anything as long as she had Sophie and Sam. Her two guardian angels. She knew that nothing would ever change that.
36
The firing range had become Sophie’s happy place. At first, it had been a means to an end, part of her plan. But now it was a place she could come whenever she needed to think. She found that training her gun on the target helped her to focus her mind. Her investments had doubled in value since she’d taken this up as a pastime. As firing a gun seemed to sharpen her sense and her mind. She was sure that she had had brainwaves that would never have occurred to her otherwise.
According to the range owner, Roger, a middle-aged, sweaty man who wore the same fleece every day, she was a natural with a gun. He kept badgering her to join a competitive team he ran, waxing lyrical about how there were not enough women with potential. She now avoided him whenever possible. She had much bigger things to worry about than how underrepresented women were in the shooting world.
She needed to get her own gun. It was harder than she thought it would be. To buy a gun she needed a licence from the police, for which she needed references from two people who had known her for more than two years. It was hard to accomplish this when she only had one friend in the world; and under the police rules her husband couldn’t be a referee. What about one of the clients? she mused. She had known some of them for several years. Excuse me, sir, could you just write a reference for me to help me get a gun? It would be interesting to see their reactions to that. She could always obtain one illegally. But who did she know that she could approach without it getting back to the family?
It was when she was signing out that she saw Roger in the back office. He appeared to be putting away a camp bed. He sleeps here? She doubted that it was his love of shooting that kept him sleeping on a worn-out camp bed. Times were tough judging by the peeling paint on the walls and the missing ‘G’ from the large sign on the front of the building. What he needed was an injection of cash. The idea percolated in her mind and she realised that the answer to her problem of how to get a gun had just landed in her lap.
There went that lovely lady fate again, guiding her way by throwing the opportunities she needed into her path. Sophie pulled back her shoulders and puffed out her chest, activating business-mode. An hour later, she walked out of the firing range with one less page in her chequebook but a black, shiny new gun in her rucksack. It made her feel powerful, ready for the battle ahead. The Cavendish family had no idea what they were dealing with. By the time Greg saw the cheque clear to ‘Manchester Gun Range’, it would be too late.
Her phone beeped as she placed her bag in the car. She was in such a good mood, her spirits lifted even higher when she saw it was a text message from Flora. The smile soon dropped from her face when she saw what it said.
Emergency. Get to the centre now.
37
The police had left but instead of feeling comforted, Flora felt more vulnerable than ever. Now that they had actually called the police the danger was more tangible.
Flora’s stomach rumbled, announcing its disgust that she had not eaten. Sam had nipped out to pick up a Chinese. She wished she’d asked him to order the banquet for four because she was starving. It was impossible to settle in the house anymore. She felt like an easy target when she was alone and couldn’t shake the sense that someone was watching her.
Flora got up from the sofa but sat straight back down again: walking wasn’t so easy due to the cuts on her knees. The day had been a disaster from the minute she had left the house. Gridlocked traffic had her crawling all the way into the city centre. Eventually, she’d parked at the car park closest to the centre and joined the throng of people traversing the city centre streets. She was already visualising the lesson she would be delivering, mentally checking the supplies in her inventory.
A shoulder came from nowhere and rammed into her, sending her sprawling into the road. Car horns blared and she heard squealing brakes. Her knees took the brunt of the impact. Her hands stung where pebbles of tarmac had embedded themselves in her skin. Her breath came raggedly and she was frozen to the spot. Car horns continued to blare, the noise almost bursting her ear drums. Her mind was blank, she didn’t know what to do. The pain in her shins became more prominent. Flora could hear the crunch of tyres on tarmac near her head as they manoeuvred around her. The smell of burning rubber filled her nostrils. Still she could not move. Shock had turned her to stone.
The feel of soft papery skin on her face made her jump. An elderly woman was looking down at her, watery blue eyes filled with concern, her face pockmarked with age spots. She tugged at Flora trying to get her out of the road. ‘Are you all right, dear. Can you hear me? You need to get out of the road.’
‘Y… yes.’ Flora leaned on the lady, who was surprisingly strong considering she was around five feet tall and looked like a sharp breeze would knock her over.
‘The youth of today. Bloody rotters, the lot of them. Come on, dear, let’s get out of the road before we both get hit by a car.’
Flora looked around and saw the cars coming towards them were only managing to narrowly avoid her. Another car horn blared and an angry white man in a business suit put down his window and gave them the finger accompanied by some choice words. Gingerly, she moved back on to the pavement, wincing as her stinging knees protested. They walked until they were out of the stream of pedestrians into a shop doorway.
‘What can I do to help, love? Can I call someone? That was a nasty fall.’
‘No. I’ll be fine. I’m only a few minutes away from where I work. I’ll go there and clean myself up.’ She took some deep, bracing breaths.
‘We should really call the police, you know. I didn’t get a good look at him, they all wear hoods these days. But they shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it. The hooligans.’
In that moment, Flora realised that she no longer had her bag. She looked around and opened her mouth to say something when the lady pulled it off her shoulder and offered it to her. ‘Here’s your bag, love. You dropped it when you fell.’
Flora shouldered the bag and thanked the woman heartily and gave her a quick, awkward hug. ‘You’re so kind. Thank you for helping me.’
‘Nonsense. Do you need me to walk with you?’
‘No. I’ll be fine. Thank you again, though. You’ve been so kind.’ Flora straightened up and swallowed back the pain in her knees and tried her best to look fine. She walked away from the woman and tried not to think about what could have happened if the cars hadn’t stopped. She felt the eyes of the elderly lady follow her until she turned around the corner, out of sight.
After two cups of Charlotte’s magic tea, she managed to stop shaking, grateful that she had come in early to prepare. She had not been in a fit state to teach when she arrived. As she sat on one of the small seats, the calming atmosphere seeped into her and she managed to untense slightly. Her nerves were so frayed that she panicked easily now but considering all the strange things that had happened to her that was not surprising. She was running on constant adrenaline, waiting for the next thing to happen.
Could it just have been an accident. Maybe she was just overreacting? What was the saying? Was she seeing a zebra when really it was just a horse?
Charlotte sat down opposite Flora. ‘I need to tell you something. It’s about Sam. He was here. He… he startled me.’
Flora let out a gasp. Whilst Charlotte had been talking, she had realised that she hadn’t told Sophie and began searching her bag for her phone. As she pulled it out, a folded piece of paper flapped heavily to the floor.
Unfolding it, she almost dropped it again. Her blood turned to ice as she read the message that had been created for her from cut-out newspaper letters.
THE NEXT TIME YOU SEE WORMS IT WILL BE IN YOUR GRAVE
Sam was there ten minutes after she called him. Sophie arrived minutes after him and took charge. She called the parents to cancel the sessions that day, informing them of a family emergency, whilst Sam called the police. Charlotte had been sat next to Flora since she had got the note, she had pulled her chair close to Flora’s and refused to leave her side. It took Sam a while to convince her to go home. Charlotte gave Flora a desperate look before finally being led out of the room by Sam. But Flora couldn’t even bring herself to say goodbye to Charlotte. She felt if she moved or tried to speak she would break into a thousand pieces and not even Sophie could put her back together.
Sophie had seemed reluctant to involve the police initially but had quickly seen sense when she had read the note. The cut-out letters were much more sinister than a typed or handwritten note. Someone had spent time on this, carefully cutting out letters and sticking them onto the paper. Yes, a lot of effort had gone into crafting this threat to Flora, it had the personal touch.
The two police constables were extremely kind considering Flora was a blubbering wreck. They sat at a table in the centre, uncomfortable in small chairs designed for small children. PC Wilson, a six-foot-tall handsome young man was struggling the most. Each time he moved in his chair it creaked ominously. He tried to hide his discomfort as he sat sideways, unable to fit his legs under the table.
Tears kept welling up in Flora’s throat cutting off her words. Slowly, she haltingly told them about the strange things that had been happening to her. All the things that had happened before the note sounded ludicrous, but now it seemed it was stepping up.
The police officers took her statement and also one from Sophie as she had been there when the worms were discovered.
The female police constable, PC Valerie, put on gloves and took the note from the table in front of them. She pulled out a clear evidence bag and placed the note into it. ‘It’s unlikely we will pull any prints from it, but it is always worth trying.’ She placed the note back on the table and shifted her gaze to Flora. ‘Now, do you have any idea who could be doing this to you, Mrs Cavendish? Does anyone at all have a grudge against you?’
