Chapter 14
A loud knock at the front door makes Paula jump.
She’s just sent John another email and is wondering if they give away unused email addresses like they do phone numbers. Surely not.
From her spot, sitting at the kitchen table, she glances anxiously out of the window. It’s dark, gone eight p.m. Who would be calling round at this hour?
She gets up, something gnawing at her stomach, and heads for the door. As she reaches for the latch, she remembers.
We’ll be back .
Her autopilot has the door open before she can register the fear she suddenly feels.
The two men from a week and a half ago are there.
Waiting. The same two men as before; as big and ominous as ever.
But this time the larger one at the front – the one who’d referred to himself as Craig – is smiling. Widely.
‘Paula!’ He greets her by her first name like they are old friends.
It makes that fear tickling the edges of her brain double down and her stomach drop.
His tone is friendly, but his energy is chilling.
‘Lovely to see you again. I know John’s not in but can we come in anyway?
’ he asks, still smiling. Her mind goes blank, gripping on to the door frame.
Everything inside her is screaming shut the door and run away.
But she’s too British to slam a door in someone’s face.
She’s alone in the house. Even if she could make a loud enough noise to reach the garden shed, Seb will have his gamer headphones on. He would never hear. And even if he could hear, there’s not a lot he wouldn’t sacrifice for a new top score.
‘Oh! Well, actually, it’s not a good time,’ she says, forcing her voice to sound steady.
‘We’re having a family get-together right now, absolutely overflowing with people.
So many . . . tall, er, well-built male family members.
’ She swallows. ‘What is this regarding anyway? Who are you?’ She glances over her own shoulder, into the house, wishing she had more lights turned on.
She still worries too much about the electricity bill, even though she could power the actual sun with her bank balance.
The large man, Craig, tuts. ‘Well, now, Paula, I don’t know what to believe anymore, since you lied to us the last time we came to see you.
’ He narrows his eyes and leans back on his heels.
‘You said John was out, didn’t you? But we now know he’s dead, eh?
We were a little late to the news, but we’ve seen the papers.
Car accident, was it?’ He tuts again. ‘What a shame, nice man like that, fiery death.’
Paula swallows. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I didn’t mean to lie’ – she really didn’t – ‘but it’s sometimes hard for me to say it out loud.’ She takes them in, craning to see the smaller man standing behind Craig. He looks a bit bored. ‘Are you . . . Are you friends of his?’
Craig chuckles meanly. ‘I wouldn’t say that. Not exactly. More like business acquaintances.’ He pauses and the nasty smile fades. ‘He owed us a lot of money.’
‘He . . . what?’ Paula blinks. ‘No, you’re wrong, he .
. . what?’ She feels like she’s been slapped.
John owed money? To these people? How? Why?
He wouldn’t, would he? Yes, she knew there were loans and re-mortgages on the house, but John wouldn’t have borrowed money from people like this.
From people who would turn up on your doorstep with threatening smiles, calling you by your first name. He wouldn’t!
Craig raises his eyebrows. ‘They never tell the missus, do they?’ He tuts again, as does the smaller man beside him, who has so far been silent.
If he’s meant to be some kind of henchman, he’s not a terribly effective choice.
He’s not nearly as threatening as Craig himself, wearing a white hoodie easily two sizes too small, with ‘University of Huddersfield’ emblazoned across it.
‘But either way,’ Craig – who is wearing well-proportioned all-black with no logos – continues, ‘it’s the truth, I’m afraid, Paula, and he is way past due.
’ He sighs. ‘I know he’s conveniently dead and all that, but it’s fine, isn’t it?
Because we know you have the money to pay us.
’ He winks. ‘Like I said, we’ve seen the papers. ’
‘But I don’t know anything about a loan!’ Paula cries. ‘John never—’
The large man raises a warning hand and she stops.
‘Paula, love,’ he says in that frighteningly low tone.
‘I don’t give a shit what you knew about or didn’t.
I’m telling you: he borrowed my money.’ He smiles again.
‘Liked a bit of snooker, didn’t he, your John?
Though it would appear he wasn’t all that good at it.
’ Paula’s mind is spinning. John was gambling?
Is that what he’s saying? Craig continues.
‘We’ll be back, and we’re expecting you to have fifty thousand pounds in cash here, waiting.
Clever move, getting himself killed like that, but John can’t get out of this that easily.
We want our money and we’ll get our money. ’
Paula puts a hand to her chest. Fifty thousand pounds?
John owed these horrible people fifty thousand pounds?
No, she can’t believe it, she won’t believe it.
She stares at Craig, adrenaline coursing through her body as he keeps talking.
‘No need to leave me your contact details, by the way, Paula,’ he says breezily.
He smiles at her, that same slow, horrible sort of psychopath smile, and pulls out his phone.
He presses a few buttons and behind her in the house, Paula’s landline starts to ring.
He hangs up and the ringing stops. Smiling even wider, he taps the screen again and this time, the mobile phone in Paula’s pocket starts vibrating against John’s notebook.
Nausea pushes its way up her throat and Paula fights to keep it down and hold her ground. Everything in her is screaming to run. This man has her address and her phone numbers. What else does he have? What else does he know?
Craig turns to go, elbowing University of Huddersfield.
‘Like I said,’ he says, nodding as he walks off, ‘it was very nice to see you again, Paula. And we’ll be back.
Maybe we’ll come in next time – when you’re not, y’know, having a family get-together .
’ He laughs as he walks off, the smaller man scurrying in his wake.
Paula stands in her doorway, watching them go, her whole body shaking. They’re coming back, and they want fifty thousand pounds in cash.