The Cop, page 7
‘Hi, sis, thanks for coming. Do you still take sugar?’ Anna rested her bag on the table.
‘Please, two spoonfuls. I’m a martyr to my sweet tooth. I’ve given up trying to cut down. I just haven’t got the willpower. It’s a lost cause.’
‘Strange, we’ve always been the same, you sweet and me savoury. It’s the one difference between us. Do you fancy a biscuit?’
Anna shook her head.
‘No, I haven’t long had breakfast, ta. But you should have one if I’m going to take your blood. I don’t want you passing out on me.’
‘I had some cheese and tomato on toast about twenty minutes ago.’
Anna sat herself down, accepting her cup gratefully, warming her hands.
‘The bastard’s gone then?’
Kathy sat on the opposite side of the pine table, an implausible smile on her face.
‘Yeah, he drove off about an hour ago. I watched from the bedroom window until he finally left my sight. According to the letter the course finishes at four. It’s about an hour drive, and he usually goes for a drink in the city before coming home. He shouldn’t be back until five at the earliest, probably later.’
‘Shame he’s coming back at all.’
Kathy raised her cup to her mouth, nodding as the rising vapour warmed her face.
‘Yeah, you’ve got that right. I wish he’d sod right off and die. I wouldn’t care how just as long as he’d breathed his last. You were so lucky meeting Tom when you did. If Mike were anything like him, I’d be a very happy woman.’
‘Yeah, Tom’s one of the good guys.’
‘The best!’
Anna tapped her bag. ‘I’ve got everything we need.’
‘The bags and the gloves?’
‘Yeah, just like you said.’
‘And the hair dye?’
‘Yes, a nice light shade of blonde, as you asked.’
Kathy smiled again, spontaneously this time, telling herself that things were looking up, finally going her way.
‘We can make a start straight after we finish our coffee, if that’s all right with you?’
‘What’s the rush?’
‘No rush, I just want to get it done.’
Anna licked her top lip. ‘Oh, go on then, I’ll have one of those biscuits after all.’
Kathy headed to the pantry, returning with a three-quarter-full packet of garibaldis in hand.
‘There you go, help yourself. One of your favourites as I recall. They should still be in date.’
Anna took a biscuit from the packet and nibbled at a corner, savouring the sweet currants, moving the mixture around her mouth with her tongue. ‘I’ve got absolutely no idea what you’ve got planned, Kathy, but I need to be sure you want to continue. I’ve explained that there’s risks. I need to know you’ve thought it all through properly, that you’re one hundred per cent certain you know what you’re doing. It’s not too late to change your mind. We can pretend none of this happened, if you like? All you have to do is say the word. I could go on my way and say nothing else about it.’
‘Just eat your biscuit.’
‘Are you certain, yes or no? I need to hear you say it.’ Kathy tipped her head back, draining her cup.
‘Yes, Anna, I’m certain. I’ve never been more certain. I’ve decided on a plan I really think can work. There’s no plan B. It’s the only option left open to me. I need to get on with it before it’s too late. The danger of doing nothing outweighs everything else.’
‘Nice biscuits!’ Kathy smiled.
‘I’m glad you like them.’
‘Are you ready to make a start?’
‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’
Anna rose to her feet. ‘Are we going to do everything here or in the lounge?’
‘Give me a second. I’ll just give the cups a quick swill and get them out of sight.’
‘Yeah, no clues I’ve been here. I couldn’t cope with the crap you have to deal will. Having to worry about every little detail in case the bastard catches you out. Nobody should have to live like that. It’s an abomination.’
‘Is there likely to be any mess when you take my blood? You know, anything Mike could spot? If he gets even the slightest clue what I’m doing, I’m screwed. It would all be over before it began.’ ‘No, no mess, nothing like that. I’ll make certain of it. It’s what I do day in, day out. If he finds anything out, it won’t be because of me.’
Kathy entered the lounge first with her sister close behind. ‘Where do you want me?’
‘You can sit in an armchair or lie on the settee if you like. Whichever suits you best. It’s up to you. Just make yourself comfortable.’
Kathy closed the curtains, switching on the light at the centre of the room before stretching out on the sofa, trying her best to relax. ‘Is this okay for you?’
‘Yes, that’s fine. You can either roll your sleeve up or take your cardigan off, whichever’s easier.’
Kathy removed her cardigan, folded it, resting it on her abdomen. ‘Okay, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.’
‘Right, I’m going to place a blood pressure cuff on your arm. It’s needed to create a little pressure.’
Kathy held out her arm, looking away. ‘Can we fill four bags today?’
Anna applied the cuff, pumping up the pressure.
‘Four? No, we frigging well can’t. The norm is one bag every eight weeks at the very most. And that’s if you’re not pregnant. We shouldn’t really be doing this at all.’
Kathy looked very close to panic, the remaining colour draining from her already pale face.
‘Oh God, that’s no good to me! I need the four bags before the baby starts showing. That’s an intrinsic part of the plan. And four is an absolute minimum. Any less and it’s not going to work.’
Anna took an alcohol swab from her bag before searching for an appropriate vein and cleaning the skin.
‘This is getting crazier by the minute.’
‘You said you trust me. That’s what you said, yes?’
Anna nodded once.
‘Of course I do.’
‘Then, let’s get on with it.’
‘Filling a bag every three weeks or so is going to be pushing it a bit, to say the least, but if there’s no other way I guess it’s just about doable. That’s if you’re prepared to deal with the likely negative effects.’
‘What effects are you talking about?’
‘I want you to start tensing and relaxing your bicep for me.’
Kathy began moving her arm up and down at the elbow. ‘Like this?’
‘Yes, that’s it, stop for a second while I insert the needle and then start again… yes, keep it going, up, down, up, down, that’s it. You’re doing beautifully.’
‘You were about to tell me about the side effects?’
‘Yeah, there’s a risk of anaemia. You could feel weak, light- headed and have lower than usual stamina. If we go ahead with the schedule you’re proposing, you’re going to know about it, that’s for sure. They don’t recommend a minimum period for nothing.’
Kathy nodded, focussing on the doable and minimising everything else in the interests of the plan.
‘Would iron supplements help? I’ve got some somewhere.’
‘They certainly wouldn’t do you any harm. But you can expect to feel like crap a lot of the time, that’s a given. There’s no avoiding it.’
‘No change there then, my life’s not exactly wine and roses.’
Anna withdrew the needle, disconnected the tube, sealed the bag carefully and handed Kathy a small, fluffy white ball of cotton wool. ‘Put some pressure on that for me while I find you a plaster. That’s it, with your thumb, press down hard.’
‘It’s crazy. He beats the shit out of me on a regular basis and yet I’m afraid of a little needle.’
Anna grinned.
‘Most people are. An eighteen-stone rugby playing prop I know cries like a newborn baby every time he donates. He tried to make out it was hay fever the last time, poor sod. I told him he wasn’t fooling anyone. I’ve never seen a man looking more embarrassed.’
‘Not so tough after all.’
‘Are you okay, Kathy? You’re looking a little pale all of a sudden.’
‘Never better.’
Anna held up the syringe and tube in plain sight. ‘What do you want me to do with this lot?’
‘I’ll hide them once I’m back on my feet.’
‘We don’t usually reuse them.’
‘Needs must.’
Anna walked towards the door, humming.
‘I’ll get a plastic bag from the kitchen, which drawer?’
‘The second down, next to the sink. Mike’s not going to miss one.’
‘Back in a second. Sit yourself upright, and I’ll make us another coffee before I head off. There’s a plaster next to you on the sofa when you’re ready.’
‘Thanks, sis, I can’t thank you enough. If there’s anything I can ever do for you… well, you know what I’m saying. One day I’ll return the favour.’
‘We’re family, Kathy. Twins. There’s no charge. I only hope you know what you’re doing, that’s all.’
‘And me too, sis, me too! It’s a high-stake game I’ve got no option but to play. I pray my hand beats his. I’m going to do everything I can to come out on top, but there are no guarantees, not in this life. Sometimes you’ve got to take a risk. What other choice have I got?’
‘I’ll make that coffee.’
The two sisters hugged each other tightly, saying their fond farewells. As Anna handed over the cash with a ‘sorry it can’t be more’, closed the back door and walked casually in the direction of the street, Kathy was wondering if she was doing the right thing after all. Hers was an ambitious plan. A radical plan. And there were so many things that could potentially go wrong if she made even the slightest error. If that happened… well, it didn’t bear thinking about. She just had to get her head down, get on with it and hope for the best.
Kathy took her bottle of sleeping tablets from a dark corner of the saucepan cupboard, placing it in the orange supermarket carrier bag along with everything else she was going to need in the weeks to come. She stepped out into the back garden for the second time in a matter of days and looked up at the sky in silent prayer. Where on earth could she keep everything? Where best to hide them? It had to be cold. And it had to be secure. Somewhere the bastard was least likely to look. Are you going to help me, God, give me a clue? It wasn’t too much to ask, was it? She needed all the help she could get.
Kathy listened intently, thinking she heard a faint but discernible voice encouraging her on. A voice emanating in the far distance, somewhere in the mysterious universe and beyond our material reality. She opened the shed’s wooden door and peered in with her confidence waning as nagging doubts entered her mind. There were no obvious hiding places, nothing that sprung to mind. But there was nowhere else, nowhere suitable. Nowhere that met her requirements any better. The shed was the obvious choice. It would have to do.
Kathy winced as a bathroom light shone in a nearby building. But she relaxed slightly as the blinds closed. She was beginning to feel more confident again, boosted by her decision to act. Fortified by her proactive approach to her problems. She was doing something to save herself. And to save the baby too. That’s what she said to herself. She was doing something brave, something adventurous, something worthy. There was reward in that, and the bastard didn’t have a clue. That may give her the edge. It was her only advantage – a benefit she had to cling on to like a determined limpet. She had to become a roaring tigress, brave and bold. There was no room in her life for a cowering creature devoid of courage. Those days were gone.
Kathy focussed back on the task at hand, casting an eager eye over every inch of the shed’s varied contents. What about inside the grass storage area of the lawnmower? It wouldn’t be used again until spring. Yes, that made sense. It may work.
She lowered herself onto all fours, examining her option of choice, but she quickly decided that it didn’t provide sufficient space, her disappointment clear, had anyone been there to see.
Kathy pulled herself to her feet, resisting the impulse to scream as rekindled uncertainties flooded her fragile mind. All of a sudden, things weren’t going quite as well as she’d hoped. There were problems, seemingly insurmountable obstacles in her way. What if she couldn’t come up with an appropriate hiding place? It would be the end of her initiative, disaster. What if there was nowhere suitable to find? What if she was as useless as he’d always said she was?
Kathy imagined her husband’s mocking voice, but she drove it away. It was time to think outside the box. She’d been an intelligent girl once upon a time. A university student, an academic, before he blunted her edges. Before he crushed her self-esteem and tore her down one day at a time. All she had to do was use that same intelligence as she had in the past.
Kathy looked again, noticing that one section of the shed’s uneven flooring looked loose at the back. She hurried towards it, using all her meagre strength to lift the toolbox out of the way and then utilising a red-handled screwdriver to prise a small section of wooden floorboard free. She smiled, relieved, when it came away relatively quickly, and then felt her mood and confidence surge like a geyser in full flow. That’s it, Kathy, it’s almost perfect. That would do just fine. And everything fitted in flawlessly with a bit of moving things around. She really couldn’t have found a better hiding place however long she looked. It was a triumph over adversity. The bastard would never spot it, not in a million years.
Kathy made her final adjustments to the position of the various items, placed the board back in its original position, having to wait a minute or two to regain her strength before shifting the toolbox back on top.
Kathy looked down and stared as new doubts began to surface. Was the section of floorboard exactly where it had first been? Yes, not bad, spot on, in fact. And the screwdriver? What about the screwdriver? Maybe move it another inch or so to the right next to the larger of the two spanners. Yes, yes, that was better. Surely it was good enough. If the bastard spotted that, he was a miracle worker.
Kathy stood at the shed’s open door, taking one final look around before hurrying back in the direction of the house. As long as no one had seen her, as long as no one reported back, she’d be fine, just fine. All she could do was continue with caution and hope for the best. No, she should pray for the best! Maybe this time God was listening and would act on her invocation. Perhaps this time she’d win.
Kathy checked the kitchen clock, wondering why the second hand was moving so very quickly. Just like the last time. Oh God, time was rushing on again. He’d be back soon with his judgements, criticisms and worse. It was time to prepare for his arrival. Time to start cooking. She had to keep up the pretence of normality until the time was precisely right. And then she’d do it! She’d get out of there. She’d be on her way, never to return.
11
Kathy served her husband’s full English breakfast at precisely 7.30 a.m., cooked to culinary perfection and presented with a side order of white toast and a steaming pot of aromatic, fine ground Brazilian coffee – one of his particular favourites. There were still criticisms, there were always criticisms, but Kathy somehow managed to avoid any significant interaction right up to the time he swallowed his last mouthful, pushed his plate aside and rose to his feet with a disconcerting smirk on his very ordinary face. It was a triumph in her eyes. She’d avoided his violence. There’d been no kicks or punches and – for now – that was enough.
Michael stepped away from the kitchen table as his wife swayed from one foot to the other, wondering if the time was right to clean away the dirty dishes. He met Kathy’s eyes, holding her gaze as she blinked repeatedly, but he didn’t utter a word.
‘Is everything okay, Mike? Is there anything else I can do for you before you leave for work?’
He turned in a tight circle, slowly and deliberately, like an inept dancer on an amateur stage.
‘Am I looking suitably smart, bitch? Do you think I’ll impress?’
Kathy took a backward step, pressing herself against the large larder fridge, nodding with manufactured enthusiasm, very much hoping her reply would be sufficient to satisfy his ego.
‘You look every bit the successful senior professional. People can’t fail to be impressed. You fit your uniform perfectly.’
He ambled towards her, first one step, then a second.
‘And are you impressed, Kathy? Are you proud to be married to such a man?’
‘Oh yes, very proud! I’ve always been very proud of you.’ Her subsequent words threatened to stick in her throat, but she says them anyway. ‘I know how lucky I am. You’re a wonderful husband.’
He nodded twice, seemingly satisfied.
‘I’m attending a domestic violence seminar in Exeter later today. I’ll be part of a working party issuing multi-agency guidance and procedures for dealing with complex cases. Oh, the irony! If the morons experienced even a tiny percentage of the shit you put me through, they’d truly understand the causes. That’s the sort of course they need. They should try living with you for a day or two without hitting out.’
He laughed, mercury fillings in full view.
‘If they could manage that, it would be a fucking miracle.’
Kathy opened her mouth, once, then twice, but couldn’t find the words.
He picked up his black leather briefcase, preparing to leave. ‘Nothing to say for yourself, woman? No words of wisdom to share with the various numpties I’ll be forced to spend my time with, the overeducated do-gooders of this world who wouldn’t know a criminal if one crept up and bit them on the arse? I feel sure they’d benefit from your almost infinite understanding of the subject. Or perhaps not? After all, you’re even more stupid than they are. And that’s quite an achievement in itself, believe me.’
She wanted him to go. She so desperately wanted him to go. ‘What time will you be back? I’ll make sure there’s a meal ready.’
