Save Her, page 22
‘She got into my online banking and transferred all of my money into the joint and then sent it all to herself. I tried to get it back, but it’s an off-shore account that can’t be traced. This is our investors’ money. Do you understand that?’
Flora was flustered. Her mind was trying to put the pieces together. Why would Sophie hide money at her house when all along she had millions of pounds? Flora looked at the date of the transaction, it was about two weeks ago. All this time, Sophie had taken Greg for all he had. The fight between Sophie and Greg at the barbecue sprang to her mind. Had Greg realised what she’d done then?
‘This proves nothing. Maybe she took the money in retaliation for the beatings. She took enough to ensure she could get away from you.’ Flora felt like she was swimming underwater in a dirty river. She couldn’t see clearly. She didn’t understand what she was seeing and hearing. Nothing made sense around her.
‘We are rich, Flora. But not rich enough to replace that much money. Everything we have is tied up in assets. Plus, she stole it from the business. We could get done for fraud if someone found out. She has me by the balls. She controls everything. She says if I do what she says she’ll put the money back, but I don’t think she has any intention of doing that.’
‘This makes no sense. Why would she do that to you?’
‘Flora, Sophie has been making my life hell for years. It has just ramped up lately. I don’t know why. We haven’t been happy since–’ He stopped abruptly, as if realising what he was saying. ‘We haven’t been happy in a long time. But recently, it seems taking this money wasn’t enough. Now she has been threatening to tell the world that I am abusing her. She even threatened to go to the police. Do you understand the damage that would do to the company? To everything that my family has built? To everything that I have worked for? It would all be torn down and ruined by lies. I swear to you…’ Greg came over and knelt in front of Flora. He took her arms in his giant hands and looked up at her beseechingly. ‘I swear to you, Flora, I am not an abuser. I admit, I have got angry with her and sometimes had no choice but to retaliate in self-defence when she goes crazy. But I am not a wife-beater. Sophie is lying.’
50
The road was quiet. Sophie sat on the bonnet of her car, pulled over on the side of the road with her hazards on. Any cars that came would have to drive around the crazy woman sitting cross-legged on the bonnet of her car, chain-smoking like it was her last day on earth. But it was the middle of the afternoon and it seemed she had the road to herself. Sophie needed space. She needed breathing space, and this is where she came. This place was special to her. It reminded her of where she had come from and what was important in life.
Sophie was grieving. All of her best laid plans had failed. Nothing had worked. She had tried so hard to fix everything and keep Flora safe, but it wasn’t enough. She looked at the phone screen again, unable to believe what she was seeing. What was it they said? Eavesdroppers hear no good of themselves.
Whenever she couldn’t get hold of Flora, she flicked to her Find My Friend app. Today it had shown she was at Cavendish Head Office. Sophie had navigated off the app and on to her Spy Cam App. No one was more grateful than she for the development of the spy camera. She had actually lost track of the number of cameras she had installed. But the things she had learnt were worth their weight in gold. Flicking through the cameras she had checked Sam’s office, but it was empty. Next, she had tried her own office wondering if Flora was trying to find her.
Eventually, Sophie had spotted her friend’s chocolate-brown hair flashing into view on the camera she had hidden inside an air freshener in Greg’s office.
Sophie held the phone with shaking hands and watched as Flora picked up a vase and threw it at the wall in Greg’s office. Her heart sank. It was all over. She had been a finger’s breadth away from success. But now she would have to find another way. Flora would understand. She had to understand.
Sophie rested her hands on her head and watched an empty McDonald’s bag being blown about in slow circles. Her mind was racing, trying to come up with a Plan B. It would come to her, it always did when she was here. Here, where it all began.
51
Flora’s parents were just images in her mind now. Time had erased the nuances she was sure she must have known in their speech and behaviour. There was only one memory she still had where she could remember having an actual conversation with her mother. No longer could she recall her mother’s voice, but she remembered her words.
Melissa, the queen bee at school, had told her she could only come to her birthday party at her house with the hot tub if she stopped being friends with Sophie. Sophie was not cool and anyone who was friends with her was not cool either – according to Melissa. Flora remembered sitting at her mother’s dressing table while her mother sat behind her brushing her long brown hair. Her mother was appalled at Melissa’s behaviour and warned Flora. ‘Don’t let go of true friends, Flora. They are hard to find and you should not let go, no matter what anyone tells you. Loyalty is important in life. Sophie is a good friend to you. She’s worth more than a hot tub, don’t you think?’
Her mother had loved Sophie like a daughter. Although they had never talked about it, Flora knew her mother suspected that there was something wrong at home. She was always inviting Sophie over for dinner and sleepovers. Hearing her mother’s words in her mind, she felt ashamed. Sophie had never done anything to make Flora question her. So how dare she be taken in by Greg and his theatrics?
Obviously, it would be easier to believe Greg when he said that he had never hit Sophie because that would mean there would have been no signs for Flora to miss. She would not be the awful, self-centred friend she knew she was. Of course she would rather believe Greg than admit she had been a terrible friend and not seen that Sophie had been suffering. Sophie deserved her loyalty. Plus, hadn’t she heard with her own ears Sam and Greg discussing it? They even talked about the bruises. Greg was a good liar. He was so convincing. The look in his eyes when he begged her to believe him… She could not see the slightest hint of a lie; only a desperation to be believed. But Flora felt her mother’s presence as she played with the necklace around her neck. There was no doubt in her mind that her mother would want her to stand by Sophie.
Almost back at the car, Flora let out a scream when a hand grabbed her arm. She whirled around to see Sam, face tomato-red and sweaty. He bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath, his tie flapping around his neck.
‘I’ve been shouting…’ he gasped for breath ‘…you f-for ages.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.’ Flora felt awkward. She had barely spoken to him since she overheard him in his office. He didn’t know that she was avoiding him which made her feel even worse.
‘We need to talk.’
‘I just can’t deal with you right now. I’ve got to go.’ She turned, intending to find her car and leave. She needed to find somewhere quiet she could think about everything. It felt like someone had her head in a vice and with one more twist her head would explode.
‘Don’t believe everything Sophie tells you, Flora.’
All the muscles in her body stiffened. Her knuckles tightened into fists and the urge to turn and punch Sam in the face gripped her. She breathed hard, trying to steady herself. Slowly, she turned back to face him. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Get me to think Sophie is in the wrong here. All to protect your disgusting–’ She walked towards him and pushed him with all her might. He didn’t move far. ‘–wife-beating–’ She pushed him again, trying harder, wanting to hurt him. ‘–violent thug of a brother.’ Flora was out of breath. Sam, still slightly red from his run down the street, seemed calm in the face of her white-hot rage. It made her want to hurt him all the more.
‘Calm down, Flora. There are things you don’t understand.’
‘Calm down! I’ve just told you that your brother is a wife-beater and you tell me to calm down. Go to hell!’ It felt like all the air in the atmosphere had gone. She was suffocating. She turned and ran away from him, clawing for each breath. Sam’s voice floated in the air behind her, but she ignored it. Her need to escape was overpowering.
52
Just when Sophie was beginning to think that everything was coming together, her world was once again swept from underneath her. Sophie had watched as Flora fled from Greg’s office. She switched the app to show her the camera in Flora’s bedroom and waited for Flora to come home. As predicted, Flora had come into view and thrown herself onto the bed. There was no audio but by the shaking of her shoulders Sophie could tell she was sobbing. Her heart had lurched in pain to see Flora cry. Sophie turned off the camera and dialled Flora’s number. She had answered on the first ring.
‘Where have you been?’ Flora had screamed down the phone.
‘Hey, what’s wrong?’
‘Where are you? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for ages.’
‘I’m sorry, my phone died. I was with a client.’
‘I… I thought something had happened to you.’
‘Hey, don’t cry. I’m fine. Please don’t be upset. I promise I’m fine. Do you want me to come over?’
‘Not right now. Maybe later. I just need to calm down.’
Sophie had watched her for an hour crying on the bed. It was so frustrating that Flora was alone and upset. Sophie knew if Flora would just let her be there, she could make everything better. Unable to watch anymore, she had turned off the camera and driven home. Taking off her coat and shoes, she went upstairs and lay on her bed, switching between various cameras trying to locate Flora once more. Unable to spot her in the house, Sophie got up and looked out the window. She saw Flora on her patio nursing a glass of wine in the waning sunlight. Her hair the colour of coffee beans shone and even from this distance, she could see strands being blown gently in the breeze. Sophie was overwhelmed by an urge to know what Flora was thinking at that exact moment. Was she thinking about Sophie? Was she still going to keep her promise and leave with her? Or had she been corrupted? Where was Sam? Why wasn’t he there? The unanswered questions bugged her.
Sophie wanted to be with her in the garden, to see Flora’s face crease into a smile when she was amused, to watch the laughter light up her beautiful earth-brown eyes. She took a deep breath. It was time for Plan B. She couldn’t risk Flora’s future anymore. She’d tried Plan A. Now it was time for a more ruthless approach. Flora would thank her in the end.
When she had told Flora that people with money could buy anything, she was talking from experience. It took a quick Google search to realise that she needed to get her hands on some ketamine. Cecelia had horses, not to ride but to be able to say that she had horses. They had a family stables and a personal vet. It had not taken long or as many bank notes as she had thought to persuade the vet that she needed some ketamine for back pain. For another few fifty-pound notes he demonstrated how to draw up the dose and explained the best places to inject it for immediate effect.
Sophie pulled out her phone and thought hard about what to put. It needed to be something that would leave Flora no choice but to come and find her. Standing in front of the wardrobe she pulled out her hair dryer. It was not human nature to do something that was going to cause pain. Taking the cable, she let the hairdryer hang, it swung ominously before her. Without letting herself think about what she was going to do, she swung the cable hard and the hairdryer slammed into her back. The pain was incredible. She fell to her knees, breaths coming in rasps. Before she could talk herself out of it, Sophie grabbed the hairdryer and gripped it tightly. She smashed it into her side. Once. Twice. Three times. The pain overwhelmed her, and she dropped the hairdryer and clutched her side. Tears escaped her eyes, running away down her face. She curled up in a ball on her side, still clutching it. Taking deep breaths, she breathed through the pain. When the pain subsided to a manageable level, she inspected her work.
Angry red welts marked her side and the top of her shoulder. She had hit bone instead of flesh, she needed to do better. Taking the hairdryer by the cable, she whipped it around once more so that it struck her between the shoulder blades. Quickly she grabbed it and rammed it higher into her side, aiming for the fleshy part above her hip bone.
Breathing hard, trying to ignore the pain, Sophie placed her hands around her neck. She gripped as hard as she could and began to squeeze. It took all of her mental acuity to not let go. Her instincts were screaming at her to stop, her hands were trying to relinquish their hold, but her mind was stronger. She forced herself to grip harder, ignoring the pain in her throat and her lungs that were screaming for air. In the end, weakness overcame her and she could no longer keep going. She allowed her grateful lungs to suck in air and examined her neck in the mirror. It was slightly red, only visible if someone was really looking.
Steeling her reserve, she placed her hands around her neck. It was harder to do a second time around. Her brain was still reeling from being unable to breathe. The feeling like her lungs would burst was not something she ever wanted to repeat. But she did not have a choice. It was all for the greater good. She put her shaking hands back around her neck and braced herself for suffocation, digging her fingernails in this time.
The image of Flora floated in her mind, reminding her why she was doing this. It was the only way to save them both. Flora would forgive her in the end. They were best friends.
53
There were some days that Flora believed Sophie had superpowers. Or a tracking system. She was sitting in the garden thinking of her friend when her Fitbit told her Sophie had sent a text. The old Flora would have opened it straight away. But today’s Flora was unable to cope with anything else. She didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone. She’d had enough.
Leaving her key in the front door had stopped Sam from getting in the house. He had knocked so hard the door vibrated. He kept at it until she had screeched at him through the letterbox, begging him to just leave her alone. It had been quiet ever since. Or maybe it hadn’t, and the wine had dulled her sense. How much had she drunk now? It didn’t matter. She needed to drink herself into an abyss. Her world, her perfect – if you didn’t count Cecelia – world had been blown up and everything she held dear was in jagged pieces floating around her feet and she just couldn’t put it back together again.
Her brain tried to break it down. Her friend was being beaten up by her husband. Sam knew about it but was pretending that he didn’t. Greg denied he had done anything – of course.
Then there was the whole someone putting worms on her and trying to drown her in the pool debacle. She had not thought about that in so long because she had been consumed by Sophie. Now she thought about it, she was relieved nothing had happened to her since the note. She wouldn’t have been able to cope with any more.
She fingered the necklace. It had been given to her to scare her, but she found it comforting to wear something so similar to what her mother had worn. It made their connection stronger. It calmed her mind and made her feel less alone. Her marriage was crumbling; the good man she thought she had married was actually an immoral coward. She tried to focus on that as it was much easier to think about leaving Sam when she hated him.
Looking around the garden, she took a big swig of wine. She had always known she would be leaving this house but she had never imagined that she would be leaving Sam as well. Tonight will be my last night here, she vowed. Tomorrow, I will find Sophie and we will leave.
Another message from Sophie lit up on her Fitbit. Why wouldn’t she leave her alone? She needed this night to wallow. To grieve for her marriage. For her centre. For the beautiful children with autism she was teaching who could not cope with change, who would not understand why their teacher, one of the few people who understood them had upped and vanished in the night. A solitary tear ran down her cheek, dropping onto her jeans. She wiped at her eyes. The trail from the tear felt eerily like the slime left behind by the worm on her face. Shivering, Flora tried to quieten her mind. Stroking the necklace again, she finished her glass of wine and poured herself another. It was a Chateau Petrus, 2014. As much as she spurned the wealth Sam came from, she would miss the fine wines she had become accustomed to.
Again, her Fitbit notified her of a message from Sophie. It seemed she would get no respite from the crazy world. She picked up the bottle and her glass and weaved unsteadily back into the house. The wine was working its way around her body, loosening her up deliciously. Her phone was in her bedroom and she made her way slowly up to it. She did not want to see what Sophie had to say. Nothing she heard was good anymore.
As she moved through the house she stopped every now and then to say a mental goodbye. As much as she never felt at home here, it had been the place she had been her happiest. She stopped halfway up the staircase, remembering Sam tackling her to the floor on this very spot. She couldn’t even remember why, all she remembered was the laughter that rang off the walls. Her face broke out in a smile despite how morose she felt. They had been so happy. So confident in their future, together forever. But his love of his family had broken everything.
Tipping the bottle, she dripped red wine up and down the steps. She almost wished she could be there when Cecelia saw a £2,000 bottle of wine had been spilt on the carpet she had chosen for her favourite son. She leant closer, fascinated as the red liquid spread across the carpet. It looked like dried blood. Her Fitbit buzzed again and she sighed, taking another gulp out of the bottle, seeking the sweet oblivion only excessive drinking could bring. With each swig she felt the neurons in her brain going to sleep, no longer allowing her to worry about the state her life was in. The alcohol was drowning out her worries and relaxing every muscle in her body. She made her way up to her room, stopping frequently for more sips of wine.
