Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
vickeryThe bed – the fresh mattress atop the polished brass frame that had once belonged to my parents, where I could still remember happy childhood mornings climbing in between them, listening to them talk about what we’d do that day – felt strangely unfamiliar, too hard as I lay in the glow of the lamp, looking up at the ceiling.
Jade had avoided me after returning from the shops with three bottles of juice, complaining that the heat had worn her out and heading upstairs to the bedroom with Amala.
She’d taken her bag with her, and I’d watched her go, trying to figure out a way to get access to it, to find out what I needed to know.
Now that I was conscious of it, I had become aware of the fact that she never left it unattended.
Never provided an opportunity for me to snoop. A deliberate decision, no doubt.
I’d had another awkward conversation with Aaron in the garden, the hole I was digging for the new pond getting quite deep now – though not nearly deep enough.
It was back-breaking work, and the few minutes I’d stopped to rest had been laden with probing questions.
He’d seemed overly involved in my situation, my guests.
I’d made an excuse, heading indoors, feeling his gaze on my back again, a pattern forming.
There’d been no opportunity for me to talk to Jade over dinner either.
She’d been distracted by Amala’s fussing, not seeming to hear me when I tried to ask questions, and had taken herself off to bed as soon as she finished her meal.
And now I found I couldn’t relax. Couldn’t stop thinking of how to get that bag.
If I went to her room now, could I sneak it away without her waking, without disturbing Amala?
If I was caught, I could always say I’d come in because I heard the baby making noises and was worried.
She’d have to believe me… I’d make her believe me.
I lay flat on my back, listening hard, no desire to be caught.
I was summoning the courage to move when I heard it.
The distinctive sound of the front door opening.
The house was old and had moved over the years, and now the door always scraped a little on the tiles in the entryway.
It was unmistakable. Someone was coming inside.
The terror was instant, my heart thumping like a wind-up toy, my bowels churning, a desperate need to run to the bathroom as cramps shot through my gut, fear making my whole body break into a sweat. My bedroom door was locked from the inside, but would it be enough? It hadn’t been in the past…
I tried to suck in a breath as I lay frozen, a statue on the hard mattress, and felt like I was breathing through a straw, the air refusing to fill my lungs.
There was the sound of a door opening below – the living room, perhaps?
Then, as I tried to gasp at another breath, there was nothing but silence…
an eternity of horrifying silence. I balled my hands into fists, wanting to throw myself out of bed and storm through the house, my sanctuary, my home, and demand the intruder leave at once.
I wa nted to be courageous, to be fierce. But still I couldn’t move.
And then there was another sound… Footsteps. Slow. Intentional. Heading up the stairs, the floorboards creaking beneath the thick carpet. I stifled the scream that rose unbidden from my body, pressing my lips together to contain the sound.
Jade had told me she wasn’t who I thought she was.
But I remembered the advert online and I felt certain.
He had come. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t pictured this moment over the past three years.
I had imagined myself being stronger if I ever had to face him again.
Braver. Standing up to him and telling him I was no longer under his control.
I wasn’t afraid of him. But now I was petrified.
I couldn’t move a muscle as I waited for the man who’d been my tormentor for so long, the man I’d escaped from, to come smashing through my door, smile that awful, knowing smile he’d always had.
I couldn’t stand myself as I gripped the covers.
The footsteps reached my door, pausing outside, and it was all I could do not to cry out, beg him to leave me alone.
He’d always made me beg. Enjoyed the power over me.
A long, agonising moment passed, and then, to my surprise, the footsteps retreated, heading back down the stairs.
I didn’t understand. What was this game he was playing?
Of course it wouldn’t be a simple confrontation.
That would provide no entertainment for Ryan.
No sport. He always had to push the boundaries.
So what ? He was letting me know he was here; he’d found me after three years of blissful freedom?
Building the fear so I went mad with the anticipation of what he might do next?
The realisation, the memories of how he’d done just that time and again throughout our relationship hit me, and I pressed my hands to my mouth.
He was going to torture me… break me. And as strong as I’d let myself believe I’d become, I couldn’t feel an ounce of that strength now.
I was just the pathetic girl who’d nodded along to his commands – who’d lost he rself – and when he came for me, I wouldn’t be able to fight. I would surrender just as I always had.
Unless… I thought as I lay in the dark, my heart racing, listening for a clue to his next movement, unless I could find a way to summon my courage and end his hold over me once and for all.
My body ached, my muscles cramping as I stomped down the stairs, the first rays of dawn casting soft beams of light across the wooden floorboards.
I hadn’t moved from the bed all night, too afraid of what – or who – I might find if I went searching in the dark, and now the circles beneath my eyes were as black as my mood.
I was exhausted, my nerves hanging by a thread.
The thoughts that had spun uncontrolled through my mind in the wake of that unwelcome night-time intruder had made me sick, terrified of what I was considering, what I might be forced to do.
I couldn’t let him take me back to that place, that hell he’d kept me in, his prisoner, his slave. I wouldn’t go.
I made no effort to soften my footsteps as I walked past the front door.
It was closed, but the deadbolt was slid back – not how I’d left it when I’d gone up to bed.
Jade had passed me in the hall at midnight, said she was heading down for a glass of water.
She must have opened it then, leaving it on the latch.
I seethed at the thought of her deception. After all I had done for her…
I glanced down at the heavy brass doorstop I was clutching in my palm, shaped like a terrier, a little Westie, like Charlie, my childhood pet. I squeezed it tighter as I rounded the corner and walked into the living room.
Something had moved. I felt it more than saw it, the second I walked in.
Something was different. I cast around trying to work out what was wrong, and my gaze landed on the display cabinet to the right of the fireplace.
On one side were my dad’s old ornaments – blown-glass yachts, wrought-iron anchors – but on the opposite side were papers.
Nothing of importance, but I could see instantly that someone had been looking through them.
I walked slowly across the carpet, reaching for the little silver key in the lock, my fingers grazing it as I stared at the evidence, as clear as day.
The piece of paper that had floated down, a corner now sticking awkwardly out of the side of the door, as if someone had shut it in a hurry and rushed away without checking.
I turned the key and slid the paper out.
It was just an old bill from the electricity company.
Nothing of interest. I frowned, placing it back on top of the stack and locking the cabinet door, turning to survey the rest of the room.
I sniffed, trying to detect a whiff of his aftershave, that horrible, overpriced stuff he had always worn, the smell that had made goosebumps rise on my arms, knowing he was close, that he had found my hiding place.
It wasn’t here. All I could smell was the lilies drooping in their vase, flowers Aaron had presented to me more than a week ago, before this mess had kicked off.
I clutched the sturdy brass dog against my chest, my stomach churning.
‘What are you doing with that?’
I glanced towards the voice, seeing Jade watching me from the doorway, Amala lying in the crook of her arm, her dark eyes open for once as she stared up at her mother’s face.
I looked down at the doorstop. ‘Oh, um, I was going to polish it… It’s dusty.’
‘Right.’
I stared at her, desperate to confront her but suddenly realising how unhinged my accusations would sound if I had somehow got it wrong. ‘Did… did you come in here last night?’
She shook her head. ‘No… Oh, wait, yes, I did. I came down with Amala for a little while when she wouldn’t settle. ’
‘What time?’ My tone was curt, demanding, but I didn’t care.
She shrugged. ‘I really don’t know. It was dark. I think she’s getting trapped wind at night.’ She walked across the carpet towards me, and I felt myself tense, my grip on the doorstop tightening.
‘I hate to ask,’ she said, ‘but would you mind holding her while I have a shower? She brought up some of her milk in my hair, and she doesn’t seem to want to be put down for even a second.’
I gave a slow, reluctant nod, placing the doorstop on the coffee table and holding out my hands for her to pass the baby over.
‘Thanks, Annie. You’re a lifesaver,’ Jade said, smiling. She turned and headed out the room.
I waited for the sound of the creaking old pipes, then, with Amala wriggling against my chest, I walked slowly to the front door and pulled it open, listening as it made that same distinctive scrape on the tiles.
I knew I hadn’t imagined it. But if it hadn’t been Ryan, if Jade wasn’t at the bottom of this, then who ?
I stepped out into the front garden, the sun still low in the sky, though I could already tell it was going to be a sweltering day, and let my gaze move to Aaron’s house.
He always seemed to be watching these days.
I wondered if he might have seen something.
Heard something suspicious. I stared up at his bedroom window, assuming he was still asleep.
The curtain seemed to move, and I wondered for a second if he was there, but though I continued to wait, there was no sign of him.
My imagination was clearly running wild. It was hardly a surprise.
I swallowed, feeling nauseated, the exhaustion making me dizzy, and turned, heading back inside.