One good deed, p.18
One Good Deed, page 18
‘Because … because sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. It’s like druggies, you know? They’ll do anything for a fix. You have to lock them up, away from the drugs. Give them the cold turkey treatment. In the end, when they’re better, they’ll thank you for it. Rebecca is going to be so grateful to me when I’ve fixed her mind.’
Heidi decided not to challenge the delusion, knowing that doing so would only infuriate him.
‘How did you meet her anyway?’
‘Rebecca?’
‘Yeah. What brought you two together?’
He eyed her with suspicion. ‘Are you taking the piss?’
‘No. I’m serious. I’m interested.’
He mulled it over. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you.’
And he did. Took his time about it, too. Went through his whole relationship, from beginning to end, as if grateful for the opportunity to relate it.
Heidi listened, and this time it wasn’t out of politeness. She was transfixed.
What she heard made everything suddenly much clearer in her mind. It all finally made sense.
Above all, it drove home the painful realisation that Elliott wasn’t going to succeed in his mission to get her out of this mess.
32
Elliott looked down at his dashboard clock. Almost five o’clock. The February light was fading fast. The Range Rover hadn’t moved from outside the house, which was a palace in comparison with Elliott’s property. Matt probably had everything he needed in there, including Rebecca. He might have no reason to leave the place before midnight. And then Heidi would be dead.
He heard noises, and was convinced they were coming from the house. Despite the cold, Elliott had kept his window partially open so as not to miss anything.
He thought he heard a front door being closed, and then a car door. The Range Rover’s engine roared into life, and the vehicle backed slowly down the driveway.
Elliott hunkered down in his seat, peering over the top of the steering wheel. He was convinced he could see only the figure of Matt within the other car. He waited for it to cruise down the street.
And then he took his chance, knowing that it might be the only one he would ever get today.
He got out of his car and raced up to the house. At the top of the driveway he discovered another car – a Mercedes, presumably Rebecca’s. He thumbed the doorbell. Deep, rich chimes sounded within.
Please answer, he thought.
The slab of pale oak swished open. There, in the doorway, was Rebecca, dressed in a figure-hugging white vest top and black shorts.
‘Rebecca,’ he said, and it was all he could manage to utter before she went to slam the door in his face. He leapt forward, shoving it open again and causing Rebecca to back-pedal into the vast hallway.
‘Elliott! What the hell!’
‘Please, Rebecca, we need to talk.’
‘No! Get the fuck out!’
She came at him, arms raised to push him out of the house, but he grabbed her and tossed her away, surprised at his own forcefulness, before kicking the door closed.
‘What are you doing?’ she screamed. ‘You can’t be here. Matt will be back any second.’
‘Rebecca, listen to me. You’re my only hope. Darren has kidnapped my friend.’
She looked dumbfounded. ‘What? What are you talking about?’
‘Heidi. She’s my best friend. My only friend. Darren has got her. He’s taken her somewhere and he won’t let her go unless you go to him.’
‘You’re making this up.’
‘I’m not. He’s crazy. You know he is. You knew how bad he was that first night we met. Why didn’t you tell me what he would do to me?’
‘I … I didn’t think he would do something like this. Kidnap? Are you sure?’
‘I’m not making it up. You need to help me. I’ve only got till midnight, and then he’s going to hurt Heidi.’
She shook her head. ‘No. Not even Darren would do that.’
‘He will. And if you don’t help me, I’ll have to go to the police. I’ll have to bring them here.’
He saw how pale she went.
‘You can’t do that.’
‘Why?’
‘You just can’t, all right? You don’t know what you’re doing.’
He thought at first that she was referring to his characteristic ineptitude – a charge he had heard so many times that he didn’t usually question it. But this was different. There was a deeper meaning.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Nothing. You have to go now.’
‘I can’t. I told you. You’re my only hope. You have to come with me and talk to Darren. You’re the only person he’ll listen to.’
‘I’ve tried talking to Darren a million times. He doesn’t listen. He’s fixated on me. Nothing I can say will stop him from wanting to be with me.’
‘You have to try.’
‘I don’t have to do anything. Nobody tells me what to do, okay?’
‘You owe me. I helped you, and you keep thanking me by spitting in my face. How could you lie to the police about me being your stalker? How could you just stand there last night and watch your boyfriend beat me up?’
For once, she actually looked regretful. ‘I didn’t want that to happen, Elliott. But you’ve only got yourself to blame. You put me on the spot. You were going to mess everything up.’
‘Mess what up?’
She hesitated. ‘Elliott, you don’t even know what you’re caught up in. I wish I hadn’t come up to you on the street. I wish none of this had happened. If I could undo it all, I would. Please believe me.’
‘Well, you did come to me. And now you need to undo the damage you’ve caused.’
‘We’re going around in circles here. If what you say is true, then I’m sorry about your friend. Call his bluff. I really don’t think he will hurt her.’
‘Call his bluff? What the fuck are you talking about? He’s going to kill her!’
Elliott realised he’d just used the f-word. The first time in his life he recalled doing so. It actually felt good.
‘You need to go now. Matt has only popped out for a bottle of wine. He’ll be back any minute.’
‘I’m not going anywhere. Not until you phone Darren.’
‘I’m not going to phone him.’
‘You don’t have a choice. You call him right now and you arrange to meet him. I’m staying here until you do it.’
She stared at him open-mouthed. And then her eyes shifted away as something distracted her.
The low growl of the Range Rover arriving at the house.
Rebecca looked suddenly fearful. ‘Matt’s back. You need to go.’
Elliott stood his ground. ‘Call Darren.’
Rebecca backed away into the kitchen. Elliott followed, saw that the room was as big as his whole ground floor. The centre of it was occupied by a massive island, and to the left was a glass-topped dining table that was long enough to be used for the Last Supper.
‘Matt will kill you,’ she said. ‘You don’t know what he’s like.’
‘I do. I’ve got the bruises. But I don’t care, Rebecca. I’m desperate now. Call him.’
She flinched as the door chimes sounded. ‘There’s no time. You have to go.’
Elliott shook his head. ‘I’ll tell him everything. I’ll make him understand. And if he doesn’t … well, he can hardly make things any worse, can he?’
Rebecca dashed to the bifold doors leading to the back garden and pulled them open.
‘Go out this way. Please!’
The door chimes again.
‘Go now, Elliott!’
‘The phone call.’
‘I’ll do it.’
‘You said that last time.’
‘This time you’ve left me no choice. I promise I’ll do it. As soon as I can without Matt hearing me.’
And now the sound of a key being inserted in the front door.
‘He’s coming. Please, Elliott. He’ll rip you apart.’
‘I’ve only got till midnight.’
‘I know. I’ll do it. Trust me.’
Trust me. He wanted to laugh at that.
‘Rebecca!’ An irritated shout from the hallway. ‘Why didn’t you answer the door? I’m carrying a case of wine and a box of beers here.’
‘Go!’ she urged, waving him through.
Elliott looked at her, glanced towards the hall, looked into the gloom outside.
‘Fuck,’ he said again.
And then he was through the door, his pupils struggling to adjust. He began to head towards the rear fencing, but then an outside security light flared on, blinding him, and he had to backtrack and duck behind a small shed-like structure containing logs for a wood burner.
He heard Matt’s voice in the kitchen. ‘Where the hell were you?’
‘In the garden,’ she said. ‘I needed some fresh air.’
‘Dressed like that? It’s fucking freezing out there. Didn’t you hear the doorbell?’
‘Sorry, no.’
Elliott crouched down further as he heard heavy footsteps landing on the patio. Matt was clearly checking out her story.
And then Matt went back inside, pulling the door closed behind him and locking it. The voices remained in the kitchen, and Elliott knew that any attempt to escape would cause the lights to come on and attract Matt’s attention.
Elliott waited, checking his watch. Time was evaporating so quickly, and here he was, cowering in a garden while his best friend was within hours of losing her life.
Fuckity fucking fuck.
33
This is it, Heidi thought.
She listened to the familiar noises: the rattle of the chains on the gates, the car being driven through, the unlocking of the door and its steady rumble as it was drawn open.
Darren brought his car inside, put the lamp on, locked up the garage again. He opened the passenger door of his car, reached in and brought out some pizza boxes. As he took the food to the workbench, its aroma wafted across the garage, mingling with the ever-present odour of grease and oil.
This is it, she thought again.
She felt she was going to be sick. Her nerves were frayed. But it was now or never.
‘You like pizza?’ he asked.
She nodded, unable to speak through the tape over her mouth.
He came over to her, then removed the tape and untied her before heading back to the bench. Heidi followed, but then just stood there, staring down at the table, at each and every one of the items there, fixing their arrangement in her mind.
‘What?’ he said. ‘You don’t want any?’
She blinked. ‘Have you … have you got any news?’ He stared at her. ‘Sadly not. Looks like this could be your last meal.’
She looked down at her watch. Quarter to seven. Just over five hours left.
Elliott wasn’t going to come through. He’d had all day. What more could he possibly do in the next few hours?
It was up to her now.
‘I need the toilet.’
Darren had opened up one of the cardboard boxes and was inhaling the scent. He seemed irritated at the interruption.
‘What, again? You must have a bladder the size of a peanut.’
‘I’ve been here for hours. I had a lot to drink at lunchtime.’
Darren sighed and closed the lid again. ‘Right.’
He picked up the lamp and the knife, then escorted her to the toilet. ‘Here,’ he said, handing her the lamp. ‘Don’t take for ever. My Quattro Stagioni is going cold. I got you a Margherita, by the way. Wasn’t sure what you liked.’
She nodded and took the lamp. He stepped back immediately, as she knew he would. In running through the possible scenarios in her mind, she had considered this as one of the moments at which she might strike. A sudden dash at Darren, taking him by surprise.
The urge pulsed through her system now, then subsided. It didn’t feel right.
She went into the tiny room, pushing the door closed behind her. She looked down into the toilet bowl, holding back the impulse to retch. On the other side of the door, Darren was humming a tune.
Now, she told herself. You have to do it now.
She screamed. As loud as she could.
The door burst open and Darren dived in, saying, ‘What? What?’ and she danced on the spot and pointed down at the floor behind the toilet bowl, and she continued to scream, and then she said, ‘There! A thing. Right there!’ and Darren closed the space between them, started to bend to get a better view …
NOW!
She brought her arm up and over and down again. Brought the lamp down with massive force onto the back of Darren’s head. The lamp exploded, showering the room with glass fragments and plunging it into pitch blackness.
And then she ran.
She had spent her time in the garage wisely. Estimated its measurements in every direction. Mapped out everything it contained. Established a mental route through it and the number of strides she would have to take on each part of the journey.
All to be done while completely blind.
She ran through the toilet doorway first. Made a right turn. Several huge strides, then a jink left and another right. Straight ahead now. Just keep going straight ahead …
Her left shoulder struck something hard and unyielding, sending her spinning and crashing to the floor.
The concrete post. She had miscalculated.
She cried out with the pain and got to her feet again. But now she was disoriented. She didn’t know which way to go.
A moan from Darren. He was conscious. But at least it helped to restore her bearings.
She faced the direction she thought she needed and moved more cautiously now. She couldn’t afford to run into something else – something that might knock her out.
A sharp jab into her hip, and she cried out again. But this was good. She knew what this was.
The corner of the workbench.
She put her hands down, felt the table’s worn surface. Desperately she summoned up the image she had so recently tried to sear in her memory, tried to match what she could see in her mind with what she could feel below her. She found the drinks bottles, then the pizza boxes, and she knew that what she needed was just beyond them and a little to the left …
Where are they? Where the fuck are they?
A metallic jangle.
She had found her keys.
Another groan from Darren somewhere behind her, and then he was calling her name. ‘Heidi? HEIDI?’
She grabbed the keys and continued to feel her way around. Darren’s car was closest, and when devising her scheme she had considered going for the larger, more powerful car. But she had never driven one like that before, didn’t know whether it had some fancy security feature that would scupper her plans, or whether she would just end up stalling it.
She thumbed the top button on her key fob. The flash of orange light as her car unlocked was brief, but enough to give her another snapshot of her surroundings.
She headed straight for her car door, felt the dirt and the familiar scratches on it.
‘DON’T YOU DARE!’
She yanked the door open, jumped inside, then closed and locked the doors. She had to insert the ignition key by touch, which took longer than she’d hoped. She fired up the engine, turned on the headlights, flooding the garage with light. She could see again!
A bang. She screamed as something large and heavy landed on her bonnet.
Darren leered at her through the windscreen, his face drenched with his own blood.
She engaged reverse gear, took off the handbrake, stepped on the gas, came too quickly off the clutch. Darren lost purchase as the car leapt backwards. In her grand scheme, she had envisaged directing the vehicle towards the precise centre of the door behind her. But her aim was way off. There was a huge bang as the car slammed into the edge of the door and the brick wall alongside it.
Heidi checked her mirrors and realised how badly she had missed. She was going to have to try again.
She shifted into first, depressed the accelerator again.
The car didn’t move. Its back end had somehow got caught up in the damaged brickwork behind.
Ahead, Darren rose up in front of the car. Bathed in the harsh light, he looked like a zombie.
She pushed harder on the accelerator pedal. The engine screamed until she thought it would burst into flames.
‘Move, you fucker! Move!’ she cried.
Darren was alongside her now, trying the door handle, pounding on the window.
‘OPEN THE DOOR!’
Heidi gave out an almighty roar and then forced the pedal hard against the floor. There was a ripping of metal and plastic, the car seeming to tear itself in half before covering the whole length of the garage in a fraction of a second – too fast for her to react and stop what was coming.
The car rammed straight into the workbench, the thick wooden edge of the table concertinaing the car bonnet as if it were paper. Something exploded in Heidi’s face, taking her head almost off her shoulders. She saw a million pinpoints of light and felt spears of pain in her neck and her nose and her jaw, and then there was the curious sensation of being surrounded by soft rubber that was trying to suffocate her.
It took her a while to realise that the car’s airbags had been activated by the collision, pounding her face like a giant boxing glove. The engine had cut out, and one of the headlights had been smashed. Darren had already taken advantage of the situation, and was banging on the driver’s window again.
Dazed, Heidi tried to start the car up again. The engine sputtered, but wouldn’t catch, and now Darren was kicking against her window with the sole of his foot, and she began to panic, frantically turning the key and yelling at the damn car not to let her down.
Another explosion as the window gave way, showering her with glass fragments. A hand reached in and grabbed at her, and she batted it away, but it kept on clawing at her. She took hold of it and sank her teeth into it. Darren screamed and yanked his hand out of her mouth, but then it came back at her, much faster this time, balled in a fist that slammed into her cheekbone and then her jaw, opening up her lower lip. The world went into a spin again, and the next thing she knew was the sensation of her head being yanked with extreme force, as if to separate it from her neck, and she realised that Darren had managed to get hold of her ponytail and was using it to drag her out of the car. The pain was so unbearable that she thought her scalp might rip from her skull, and she had no choice but to follow the direction of travel. Even when her shoulders encountered the resistance of the window frame, Darren continued to tug with all his might. She pulled her shoulders in to squeeze through the tight gap, and then her back was scraping against what was left of the glass, breaking pieces of it away. Darren heaved again, and as her hips cleared the door she fell heavily to the concrete, jolts of further pain shooting through her bones. Ignoring her yells, Darren maintained his grip on her hair and dragged her along the floor. And then he was on her, straddling her, raising his fist, but she had no energy left to fight. She knew she was about to die.
