Don't Turn Around Page 23

  I’m not surprised when Ellie – or more likely, Lewis – puts the phone down. The person I spoke to today wasn’t the real Ellie. She was a puppet and Lewis was pulling the strings. I’ve seen him in action before.

  I recall the time when I’d gone to Sefton Park with Charlie. Our exams were over and everyone was meeting up to celebrate. We were late to the party and arrived to find twenty other sixth form survivors gathered around a collection of disposable barbeques. Meathead was living up to his name by taking charge of the burgers and sausages that would be difficult to discern from the charcoal once we were all drunk.

  Meg was sitting on the grass amongst a group of girls. She wore a long floaty dress with a high neckline and bell sleeves, and her hair shone gold as it cascaded over her shoulders. She looked like the old Meg but when she waved at me it was a tentative greeting, as if she wasn’t sure I’d wave back.

  Leaving Charlie by the barbeques, I made my way over. Glad to find her without Lewis, I wanted the awkwardness between us to be gone. ‘Hi,’ I said, dropping down next to her. ‘I didn’t think you’d be here. Isn’t it Sean’s last day before he goes to Camp America?’

  ‘He won’t miss me.’

  ‘But you’ll miss him,’ I suggested. When Meg simply shrugged, I moved to another topic. ‘How did your exams go?’

  ‘No idea. My coursework grades were rubbish so I need high marks,’ she said, tugging at blades of grass rather than looking at me. ‘I think I’ve done enough though. I have to have done enough.’

  ‘I can’t believe we’ll actually be going off to uni soon,’ I said, recalling the dreams of escape we’d shared in her bedroom.

  When Meg lifted her gaze, her eyes were full of fear. ‘Whatever happens, I can’t stay here. I’d rather be dead. I’d want to be dead.’

  I felt prickles on the back of my neck and I was sure it was Lewis’s footsteps I could hear approaching, but when I turned, Charlie was holding out a bottle of cider to me.

  Meg tipped her head back, shielding her eyes from the sun as she offered him a confident smile. ‘Hey, Charlie. Come and sit down,’ she said, commanding him like his queen.

  I don’t know what shocked me more, Meg’s sudden mood change or the sight of the scratches running along her inner arm as her sleeve slipped down to her elbow. She shot me a look as she covered herself up. What she’d said a moment earlier, what I’d seen just now, they were her secrets and I wasn’t to tell.

  Charlie scanned the crowd around us. ‘Where’s Lewis?’

  ‘Oh, busy somewhere else, I expect,’ she replied. ‘Come on, Charlie, sit down. You’re hurting my neck.’

  Before he could obey, there were more footsteps and this time my fears were realised.

  ‘Why the fuck haven’t you been answering your phone?’ Lewis demanded. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ He was out of breath and his nostrils flared as he glared at Meg.

  ‘Must have run out of battery,’ she replied as she stretched out her legs and leant back on her arms.

  ‘On purpose?’

  ‘Does it matter? I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re all fine. Or we were until you got here,’ she muttered.

  ‘Stop it, Meg,’ he warned. ‘I thought—’ For a second, his voice had sounded choked with emotion but he set his jaw firm. ‘Your message said—’

  ‘He doesn’t like me talking to other boys,’ she interrupted. ‘He thinks I’m going to embarrass him.’ Keeping her smile, she held Lewis’s gaze when she added, ‘Well, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to watch.’

  I couldn’t tell if the sparkle in Meg’s eyes was defiance or surrender but it disappeared the moment Lewis’s shadow loomed over her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. She struggled to stand, and that was when I realised how drunk she was.

  ‘I’m up now. Get the fuck off me,’ she said, continuing to sway as she attempted to tug free from Lewis’s grasp.

  ‘Why can’t you leave her alone?’ I demanded, haunted by my earlier conversation with Meg when the mask she’d been wearing for the last eighteen months had slipped.

  ‘Me leave her alone?’ Lewis asked. ‘You’re the one who turned your back on her, Jen.’

  I stood up, staying close enough to Charlie to feel the warmth of his arm brushing my skin. Emboldened, I said, ‘Maybe I didn’t like the company she was keeping.’

  I locked eyes with Lewis a second too long and he snagged me in his trap. ‘Either that, or you liked it too much.’

  ‘No one likes you,’ I hit back. ‘We can all see what you’re doing to her.’

  ‘So it’s my fault? Are you listening to this, Meg?’ he asked.

  She frowned at him. ‘What do you want me to say?’

  He let go of her arm with a shove. ‘Fuck all, as usual.’

  ‘Come on, mate,’ Charlie said as he put out a hand to keep Meg upright until she righted herself. ‘We’re all trying to chill here. Loosen up.’

  Lewis sneered. ‘What is this, Charlie? Want to big it up in front of Jen, or is it Meg you’re trying to impress? Of course you are. Everyone knows you’re only settling for Jen because you couldn’t have her cousin,’ he said. Checking my reaction, he added, ‘I keep telling you, Jen. You deserve better.’

  With my cheeks smarting from the look Lewis gave me, I tugged at Charlie’s t-shirt. ‘Ignore him, he’s baiting us. Let’s go and get some burgers,’ I said. I turned to Meg, who seemed immune to the hurt her boyfriend was inflicting on each of us. ‘Come with us.’

  ‘Suit yourselves,’ Lewis said, turning on his heels.

  I reach my hand out, ready to take back my best friend. ‘Please, Meg,’ I tried.

  ‘Why does everyone have to be so nasty to him?’ she asked. ‘Not every couple can be as sickly sweet as you two! Just leave him alone. Leave us both alone.’

  ‘I only wanted—’

  Before I could finish, Meg was chasing after Lewis. I watched as she caught up with him beneath the dappled shade of a nearby oak that covered her white dress in dark bruises. With her hands pressed together in supplication, I didn’t need to hear what she said to know she was begging forgiveness.

  Lewis shook his head as he backed her towards the tree. When he raised his hand in a fist, I thought he was going to hit her but after a brief exchange, he grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her against the gnarled trunk. His hand went to her throat.

  I took hold of Charlie’s arm to hold him back but I needn’t have worried. He wasn’t about to intervene, and neither was I. Maybe we were expecting what came next, which was that Lewis loosened his grip on Meg’s neck as they started to kiss. Or perhaps we were both cowards.

  I turned around and didn’t look back. I dismissed my cousin’s remark about wanting to be dead. I ignored the marks I’d seen on her arm. I even ignored Lewis’s suggestion that Charlie had settled for me when he wanted Meg. I knew that anyway. When Meg had leapt off the stage that time, Charlie was the first to have his arms outstretched. Part of me wishes he had caught her. No one else was going to save her.

  With the end of my shift approaching, I have three further calls to distract me from my guilt, but when I shrug into my houndstooth jacket, it feels heavier than it should. I’m regretting what I said to Ellie. I was too harsh, but nevertheless, what I said was true. There will be a new victim to replace her if by some chance Lewis keeps his promise and sends her back to Romania.

  As I wind my way down the stairwell to the ground floor, I wonder if Iona will be next, or will Lewis have easy pickings from one of his boot camp recruits? Whoever she might be, there will be someone in his sights.

  As I leave the office, I’m almost knocked off my feet by the sheer force of the wind that pushes me in the direction of the Strand. Fighting against nature, I head across the concourse towards the waterfront and I’m tucking my hair into a beanie hat as I look across the dark, choppy waters of the docks. The nights are drawing in and the twinkling lights in the distance, guiding visitors to the dockside
restaurants, give the illusion of life, but I can’t imagine who would be out in this weather.

  As my focus returns to the deserted concourse, I realise there is one person I can imagine lurking. Lewis knows I’ve been on the helpline tonight and I’ve made it clear that he hasn’t scared me off – yet. Will he try a different approach?

  My eyes dart from one dark corner of a building to the next, until my gaze settles on the yawning entrance to the underground car park. I’ll need to walk past it if I’m to continue on my current course. My jacket becomes a woollen parachute, pulled taut by the relentless wind, and my pace slows.

  Deciding the Strand might be the better option, I spin around but I’m not prepared for the wind that’s now at my back and propels me forward. I’m almost at a run as I stumble straight into the path of a man who had been walking behind me. He grabs my shoulders and at first I think he’s a good Samaritan who’s caught my fall, but as I lock eyes with Lewis, I raise my hands to his chest and push him away.

  ‘Get off me!’ I scream, balling my hands into fists and raising them up to defend myself.

  I’m grateful for the wind this time as it pushes me towards the office, but when I reach the main entrance, the doors don’t open automatically. The building has been locked down.

  I’m expecting Lewis to grab me at any moment and I hammer on the doors. Catching sight of one of the security guards in reception, I let out a cry of relief. Steve has already seen me and I wait for him to override the locking mechanism. I’m praying for the doors to slide open and when they do, I squeeze myself through the smallest gap. Safely inside reception, I turn back to the entrance. The doors rattle as they continue to open, wider and wider, but no one else appears from the dark world beyond. Lewis has vanished into the night.

  Panting for breath, I wait for the doors to close, and only then do I collapse forward and rest my hands on my knees. What do I do now?

  ‘Are you all right, Jen?’ Steve asks. ‘That wind’s deadly tonight. You’re not the first to be knocked off your feet, and for a minute there, it looked like you were going to take that bloke with you.’

  ‘You saw him?’ I ask, straightening up.

  ‘Yeah, I thought you were mad heading towards the waterfront, to be honest,’ Steve says, and despite his concern, his remarks are alarmingly casual. ‘Do you want me to call a taxi for you? I can walk you out when it gets here.’

  No, I want you to call the police, is what I think, but what good would that do? Steve had Lewis, but he has absolutely no idea of the threat that man poses. He watched a man crossing the concourse and then me being picked up by the wind and flung into his path. He didn’t see him grabbing me. He saw him saving me.

  32

  Jen

  Ruth and Geoff’s dining table comfortably seats ten, which makes it all the more difficult to ignore the empty chairs as we huddle in the middle. My heart aches for my cousin, but I’m more aware of the tightening I feel around my chest whenever I think of the man who took her from me. It’s been three days since I bumped into Lewis outside the office and although the family dinner party is easing my soul, I’m becoming less and less interested in conversations about family, job opportunities and house prices as the night wears on. By the time we take a pause before dessert, my fear is that no one will mention Lewis at all.

  ‘Charlie said he’ll pick me up after my last helpline shift next week,’ I say to Ruth, edging us into the conversation.

  ‘I should imagine I’ll stay behind too, so I can give you a lift home,’ she offers.

  ‘Jen’s going to bite my head off for saying this,’ Charlie says, ‘but I’ll be breathing a sigh of relief when the helpline closes.’

  ‘I expect Lewis will too,’ I mutter.

  Geoff stands to top up our wine glasses. ‘Charlie’s right,’ he says. ‘The sooner we put an end to this whole saga, the better.’

  ‘And I hope it does bring an end to it,’ Charlie says, reaching for his drink. ‘After the stunt Lewis pulled turning up at the office, I think we’ve all realised how dangerous a game we’ve been playing. I sent him a message, through a friend on Facebook, to let him know this has to stop. With any luck he’ll realise there’s nothing more to be gained and leave us alone.’

  ‘As long as we leave him alone,’ Geoff warns, avoiding eye contact with either me or his wife.

  Ruth leans forward in her chair and trails a finger down the side of her glass. ‘I’d like to know what he thought he was going to achieve, terrifying Jen like that.’

  ‘Isn’t it obvious? It was a final warning,’ Charlie says, looking at me with eyes that have developed deeper worry lines of late.

  ‘Then you best make sure Jen heeds it,’ Geoff tells him as if I’m not there. He shakes his head solemnly. ‘None of us wanted it to end this way, but it has ended. Lewis has a lifetime’s experience of wriggling out of trouble, and he’s done it again. He can claim bumping into Jen on Wednesday was purely accidental, whereas his list of complaints against us grows longer by the day, from defamation of character to intimidation and harassment of his family.’

  Charlie nods. ‘Iona did threaten to call the police.’

  ‘It’s lucky for us that she didn’t,’ Geoff adds. He’s emptied the dregs from the wine bottle into his glass but remains standing.

  ‘But what about Ellie? Does no one care what happens to her?’ I demand.

  ‘This time next week she’ll be on a plane home and then we can all rest easier,’ says Geoff. ‘You should be happy, Jennifer. It’s all because of you.’

  I fold my arms across my chest as Geoff holds up his glass, toasting my success.

  ‘Geoff has a point,’ Charlie offers.

  My uncle smiles broadly. ‘After all the good work we’ve achieved with the foundation, it’s fitting that you’ve managed to help one last person, especially after that disaster with the poor girl who was run down by her boyfriend,’ he reminds us all. ‘The timing couldn’t be better. Ruth’s doing the right thing.’

  We all turn to Ruth for a response. She smiles. ‘Cheesecake, anyone?’

  ‘Would you like some help?’ I ask, following her out before she has the chance to refuse. Tonight doesn’t seem to be the night for asking people what they actually want.

  I step into the kitchen as Ruth slams the fridge door shut. The homemade cheesecake is in a springform tin and she has it balanced on the palm of one hand as if she’s about to launch it at the wall.

  ‘If I hear one more person telling me I’m making the right decision, I might just scream,’ she says.

  ‘You won’t hear it from me,’ I reply. ‘I know Geoff wants us to believe it’s over, Ruth, but a sternly worded message from Charlie isn’t going to make Lewis change his ways, and there’s no guarantee Ellie will make it back to Romania. It’s hardly a coincidence that the flight he’s allegedly booked her on is after the helpline closes. Her last phone call was a set-up. Lewis was listening in so he could vet her replies. What does that say about him?’

  ‘That he doesn’t like giving up control easily,’ Ruth says, releasing a sigh that turns into a hiss. There’s a snap as she undoes the clasp on the baking tin. She prises out the cheesecake, leaving the hooped tin dangling from her arm. ‘I was hoping that it wasn’t Lewis she was involved with.’

  ‘I know,’ I say as I watch Ruth slide the cheesecake onto a platter and throw the baking tin on top of a stack of washing up. ‘But if Ellie’s quick denial about not knowing him wasn’t enough to convince me once and for all, him turning up at the office an hour later certainly did.’

  Ruth plays with the crumbs she’d spilled on the counter. ‘I would love nothing more than to bring Lewis to justice, but I’ve been hoping for that for ten years, Jen,’ she says. ‘Reluctant as I am, I have to agree with Geoff. When the helpline closes, it has to be the end. No more talk of Lewis, or Ellie.’

  ‘But there’s almost a week left before we close down,’ I reply. ‘A lot can happen between then and now.’
/>
  With a swipe of her hand, Ruth scatters the crumbs and looks up. ‘You’re not giving up, are you?’

  ‘No,’ I say simply. I have one more move to make but I’m going to need Ruth’s help. She’ll need some convincing and, with Geoff and Charlie close by, now might not be the best time to recruit her, but if not now, when?

  Ruth’s eyes narrow. ‘If I can walk away, why can’t you? What is it that makes you want to fight on despite the threats from Lewis?’ she asks. ‘I feel like I’m missing something by not speaking to Ellie myself. What is it, Jen? Is it something she’s said, or maybe something in her voice?’

  I give a strangled laugh as I recall Ellie’s rasping breath. ‘Yes, you could say that.’

  ‘Then explain it to me.’

  I take a step towards Ruth and rest a hand on the breakfast bar. After an evening sitting at the table being reminded of Meg’s absence, it’s odd that I should feel her presence here, in the spot where she died. I picture her sitting on a dusty old box scribbling down her last thoughts. She lifts her head to look at me. Does she want me to share her darkest secrets with her mum? Possibly not, but I’m going to anyway.

  ‘When I told you that Lewis hurts Ellie, I didn’t say how. If I’d told you that, you would never have doubted that it was Lewis. You would have seen the parallels between now and then,’ I begin. I know I’m obfuscating but I’m still trying to justify the pain I’m about to inflict. ‘Lewis is reliving in perfect detail what he did to Meg.’

  I can see Ruth’s body tensing. ‘Tell me what he did to my daughter,’ she says, her voice no more than a whisper.

  ‘Are you sure you want me to tell you?’ I ask, offering her one last chance.