‘Okay, I get it; I’m surprised that’s all.’ I think that at least he’s tall enough for Mala; she tends to dwarf her dates. I let the news sink in as I sip my coffee. I’m not sure that dating a colleague is a good idea. If it doesn’t work out then it could make things awkward at work. And if it does work out then Mala won’t have as much time for me anymore. I’m feeling the same envy as when Mala introduced me to her new friend. I’m being ridiculous again and distract myself by taking a glug of coffee. I don’t know where this insecurity is coming from. I can only pinpoint from when I first suspected Jon of having an affair.

  Phil pops his head around the post room door, interrupting my thoughts. He’s waving a packet of chocolate digestives at us.

  ‘To go with your coffee, ladies.’ He grins.

  I wonder if this is how it’s going to be now. Phil swinging by at every given opportunity. Mala takes the biscuits.

  ‘Thank you,’ she gushes. ‘So what’s the goss on your wing?’

  ‘It’s been a quiet night. Don’t trust ‘em when they go quiet,’ he smirks. ‘I’m escorting Sawyer to a meeting with his solicitor shortly, so best make tracks.’

  ‘How is he?’ I blurt out. ‘After being attacked, I mean.’

  ‘He’ll live. I’ll catch you later,’ he says to Mala, rather than to both of us.

  ‘Mm-mmm, and I don’t just mean the biscuits,’ Mala laughs throwing her head back.

  I shake my head.

  I wonder what Jason’s meeting with his solicitor is about. It’s probably to do with his appeal. I haven’t heard anything further about his niece being interviewed about her abduction. Not everything comes via post or e-mail. I miss out on information, not being the one to monitor phone calls. People assume that my job is boring but what is better than reading other people’s post for a living? Doesn’t everyone want to snoop? I get to do it and I get paid for it. Jon hasn’t brought the subject up again of me finding a new job and I’m glad. He can’t expect me to change career, and neither can Harper. I’ve already given up a lot for them, sacrificed a lot, but I draw a line at this. The very man responsible for Harper’s mum’s death is serving time for manslaughter. Surely they can see what an important job I have, the contribution that I’m making in keeping these criminals – these killers – locked away.

  Mala looks amusing with her mouth full of biscuit and smiling to herself as she’s reading through the e-mails. A blur of commotion catches the corner of my eye. I spin around and see two officers run past the door towards the garden. I jump up for a closer look through the window. I can only see a section of the garden but there are two prisoners engaged in a fistfight. The two officers are quickly upon them and the alarm rings out. I urge Mala over to come and see. She still has a mouth full of digestive and is crunching in my ear as we peer out together.

  ‘Is Phil there, can you see?’ Mala muffles with her mouth full.

  There’s a bigger crowd of officers now and they’ve moved over so are not in full view anymore.

  ‘It’s difficult to tell,’ I say. I’m busy wondering if Jason is involved. I’m straining to see if I can see him.

  ‘Phil can handle himself, he’ll kick some prisoner’s ass,’ she says, sitting herself back down. She takes another biscuit.

  Nigel walks past the door so I pop my head out. I just have to know.

  ‘Hey Nige. Who’s scrapping?’

  ‘Just Harrison and Ben again.’ The officer carries on and shortly later he is followed by two other officers marching Harrison towards the wing.

  I sit back down and I cup my hand in time to catch a droplet of blood.

  ‘Not again.’

  Mala is quick to hand me a bunch of tissues. ‘You okay, sister? You’re getting these nose bleeds a lot. You stressed or something?’

  I talk through my pinched nose, ‘It’s hay fever… or stress… or both.’

  ‘Perhaps you should see a doctor or something? I worry about you. You take on an awful lot, with little respite.’

  ‘I’m fine really.’ The bleeding is already stopping. It’s just a light one. I give my nose a last wipe. ‘Fizzy spoke to Harper last night. Only a few words but she spoke. She then freaked out.’

  ‘That’s good, right? Well, not the freaking out.’

  I nod a little. ‘I don’t know. I think Jon and Harper resent me. They resent how much Fizz needs me. I think that’s why they’re both being off with me so much lately. It’s playing on my mind.’

  ‘That little girl is lucky to have you. I’m sure they know that deep down. You can’t help being an amazing woman.’ Mala gets up and gives me a hug.

  I still can’t figure out what’s amazing about me but it hurts to think that Jon can’t seem to figure it out either.

  ‘I’m always here for you if you need to sound off, you know that right? And take more you time. You need it.’ Mala sits back down and takes another biscuit and offers me one.

  ‘I’m surprised there’s any left,’ I mock her.

  She looks wounded as I take two of the digestives. I remember my encounter with Jason in the toilets when I had my last nosebleed. It was potentially a dangerous situation but every time I think about it now my heart races. It flutters and I like it.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Gregg

  Gregg was prepared for every eventuality. He knew that the scenario he’d mapped out in his head may not unfold in that way, but so far it was and he smiles smugly to himself. He insisted on only being able to make the meeting at four p.m. Enough time for Sophie Banks to get back from school and hopefully too early for her father to be home from work. He’d got that bit right so far. He had been hoping that the dad wasn’t one of these ‘finish work early on a Friday’ types, and fortunately he wasn’t. He just needs the next bit to go his way.

  Sophie opens out her large portfolio of artwork. Gregg clocks that her hands are shaking a little. Her mum is standing beside her, beaming. It took all of twenty-four hours for Mr and Mrs Banks to contact him. It was too easy. Doting on their little blonde beauty clouded their common sense. Idiots. He thanks his lucky stars again, though, that Mr Banks isn’t here. No one else is either, no siblings. Just one pandered little only child. The juicy fruit ready for collection.

  ‘Let’s get a closer look at these then,’ Gregg says, taking the folder from the teen.

  Sophie sits next to him on the sofa.

  ‘Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?’ Sophie’s mum asks.

  Bingo. Just what Gregg wants to hear; it’s as predictable as he’d hoped.

  ‘Yes please,’ he says, ‘Strong tea, no sugar.’

  Mrs Banks leaves the living room.

  Adrenaline surges through him. He can’t waste time and seizes his moment; it’s what he’d planned. It’s how the scenario played out in his thoughts. He places the folder down and with a sudden movement, sweeps Sophie close to him, clamping his hand hard against the girl’s mouth and whips out a large blade, holding it to her throat. He mouths a shush to her. The girl has completely stiffened, shock and terror taking over. He swipes a gag from his jacket pocket and has it strapped hard against the teen’s mouth in a flash. She’s not yet kicking and fighting back like the last little tramp, he notices.

  ‘You’re coming with me,’ he says gruffly, forcing the girl up and manhandling her to the door.

  The teen is muffling sobs, and resisting moving, so Gregg pushes her harder, flashing the knife close to the girl’s pretty face. The blade gets her legs moving; it’s as close to her soft skin as he can get it without damaging the goods. The struggle through the front door and the teen’s loud whimpers alerts her mum. Mrs Banks is rushing at them, screaming for him to let her daughter go.

  ‘Stay back or I’ll take pieces off her face.’ Gregg has Sophie around her throat and the knife in full view for her mum to see. He backs the teen out of the front door.

  Mrs Banks raises her hands and cautiously follows them out. ‘Please let her go. Please, I’ll do anything, you can have anything, let her go…’ Her voice is choked.

  Gregg continues backing up to his car. He grapples to get the door open, keeping a strong grip on the girl. He forces her head down and shoves her into the car. He slams the door shut.

  Sophie instantly hammers on the window, frantically trying the handle. With the knife away from her daughter now, Mrs Banks lunges herself towards the car. Gregg swiftly punches her square in the face, knocking her back, but she regains her composure fast and lunges again. Gregg blocks her and gets another punch in, throwing her to the ground with force. He boots her in the head, giving him the space to jump into the car and rev the engine. He reverses fast from the driveway, only catching a glimpse of Mrs Banks trying to raise her head from the concrete. His foot is down and he’s away.

  ‘Sit fucking still, or I’ll go back and knife your mum. Do you understand?’

  The teen is sobbing uncontrollably but is now frozen to her seat.

  It all went to plan. He had hoped to avoid the mess of violence but knew the chances were high. A mother was never going to just hand their daughter over, even though she as good as did. Stupid idiot, Gregg smirks. He relied on gullibility, but he knew his plan was genius. He was no idiot and he had the balls to pull it off. He has new contacts and is putting his plan into action. He is on the up and he’s looking forward to telling Riley to fuck off. Nothing will stop him from becoming his own boss now.

  Half an hour later, and Gregg is pulling into a sweeping driveway in a remote out-of-town property. It’s a large modern new build, owned and built by Charlie Coleman, who runs his own lucrative property development business. Talks with Charlie are finally becoming a reality. He has his trust. A regular customer already who could see Gregg’s vision and has the means to make it happen. He wanted in. The man himself emerges from the front door.

  ‘Good to see you, man.’ Charlie firmly shakes Gregg’s hand as he steps from the car. ‘What do you have for us then?’

  They both walk round to the passenger side. Charlie opens the door. ‘Hello little love.’ He winks at Sophie. She’s shaking violently and desperately sucking in air through her nose.

  Gregg gets her out of the car and they are greeted at the front of the house by a couple of heavies. Gregg doesn’t recognise them but trusts Charlie to have discreet friends or staff. With the money the guy makes, he’d need security.

  ‘Get her up to the guest suite, get her a drink, and lock the door,’ Charlie orders the guys. ‘We’ll look after you pretty.’ He turns to Sophie and winks at her again. ‘Let me get you a drink, my man. Beer?’ Charlie pats Gregg on the back and guides him through to the kitchen.

  ‘What the fuck?’ Gregg halts as he sees who’s sat at the dining table.

  ‘Hello Gregg,’ Riley says.

  Brian is sitting next to Riley and waves with a salute.

  Realisation is quickly stabbing Gregg in the throat. ‘You son of a bitch.’ He turns to Charlie.

  ‘Just business, my man,’ Charlie shrugs.

  Brian stands up and tells Gregg to take his seat. Gregg looks at him uneasily and declines.

  ‘Sit the fuck down.’ Brian grabs Gregg’s collar and gut punches him, knocking the wind from him.

  Gregg doubles over, coughing. Brian guides him down onto the chair but Gregg pushes against him in a rugby tackle. Coleman’s two heavies burst into the room, overpowering him, and he’s finally forced to sit down. He doesn’t have a choice; the broader of the two men is now pointing a gun at him.

  Riley stands. ‘I’m sure you didn’t mean to leave me out the loop like this, so I may still be able to forgive you. I want to thank you for the idea though. Credit where credit’s due and all that. Thing is, I need you. We have a profitable business as things are. We have customers; we have obligations.’

  The man with the gun steps forward, aiming the gun a little closer.

  ‘We need a girl for next week, and you’re still going to deliver. If you do then I might let you retire with your limbs and balls intact.’ Riley takes a couple of beers and hands one to Charlie. They clink bottles. ‘To expanding the business.’

  Gregg glares at the man holding the gun. ‘Get that thing off of me all right.’

  The guy maintains the gun’s position.

  Gregg feels every muscle in his body tense. His jaw is set. He was close to being his own boss: he put all of the work in, he could feel the money. Now he’s reduced back to being Riley’s little lapdog. He imagines what he’d like to do to Charlie for screwing him over. He looks at him and can visualise gutting him open. It’s almost like Charlie can read his thoughts and winks at him. Gregg curls his upper lip. All in good time.

  Riley continues, ‘Before I let you walk out of here, I need some reassurance. Jason Sawyer’s niece, Chloe, has been taken in for further questioning over her suspected kidnapping by Michael before Jason murdered him. I’ll ask you one last time: did you know about him taking Chloe? Were you there? Were you seen? Anything?’

  ‘Do you think Michael would be dead if I was there? Sawyer wouldn’t have made it out the door if I’d been there. No, and I knew nothing,’ Gregg spits.

  ‘Good, because we can’t have this Chloe remembering anything that might make any connections to us. Michael was a fool for taking someone so closely connected. The only reason why we’re here still operating is the fact Michael is dead. He can’t talk.’

  Gregg had to agree that Michael should have told him of his plans to take Chloe. It was a huge mistake; he could’ve made him see sense. His impulsiveness got him killed, but he was his mate and he’s pissed at him for leaving him to deal with all of this without him.

  ‘At the moment Sawyer is our loose end,’ Riley says. ‘If he wins his appeal, he’s gonna come looking… revenge for his niece or some shit. He knows me, he knows you. You met him, right?’

  ‘I sat in the car once when dropping the plants off to him with Michael. We never spoke. I don’t know him and he doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know shit and he ain’t getting out. He stabbed Michael to death, his prints were everywhere.’

  Riley picks up a knife from the counter and points it in Gregg’s face. ‘You best be right. Now get the fuck out. We need a girl for next weekend. I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘Now c’mon, I want in. I’ve delivered tonight, haven’t I? How about payment?’

  Riley gestures to the man with the gun to help Gregg up. Gregg shakes him off. He’s still hunched over from the punch to his middle. He never took Brian to have that kind of right hook, but to see his smug face now is far more painful. The two men march him out to the driveway with the gun still pointing. Gregg rips away the false plates, before getting into the car. He can’t be driving around now getting himself caught. That gullible mother will have called the cops by now. He looks in his rear-view mirror and slides the dark toupee from his head revealing his shaven scalp. He’s not being recognised; he’s not going down for this. All of this for nothing. He slams his palms into the steering wheel, then starts the car. The two heavies are still standing there watching him. Riley’s got him over a barrel and now he’s going to have to source another girl. He drives away not knowing yet how to plot his next move.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I wake up with a start and freak out when I see the time. Jon lets out a loud snore and shuffles over onto his other side. It’s Saturday. I inhale and breathe out a sigh of relief. I take a few minutes to try and piece together the jumbled dreams I was just having. I’m grasping at fragments of images, a baby is crying and I’m trying to run but my legs are heavy. I’m trying to call the police but my fingers keep missing the numbers. I think I stole a baby. I slide out of bed and allow the absurd fragments to fade away.

  I trot downstairs to use the downstairs loo, deciding not to risk disturbing Jon by using the ensuite. I enjoy the peace before everyone awakes as it doesn’t happen often. I flick the kettle on and rub my eyes. I slept well but it doesn’t feel like it. I wonder what the world of Facebook has been up to overnight and scroll through my phone as the kettle bubbles away. All of the news pages are filled with reports of a teenage girl who was snatched from her family home yesterday early evening. A man claiming to be an agent for artists conned his way into the family home and took sixteen-year-old Sophie Banks by knifepoint. Her mother sustained injuries when she tried to fight off the kidnapper.

  I put my hand to my mouth. How awful to have your child practically snatched out of your arms like that in your own home. Photos of Sophie are everywhere. She’s a pretty blonde with big friendly eyes. There’s an E-FIT of the man who took her. He looks respectable for an E-FIT image. I shudder. You don’t know who you’re letting into your home. The news reports go on to say that connections between the recent spate of kidnappings in the Reading area are not being ruled out. Naturally, there is growing fear in the town. I make my coffee contemplating the rising fear in Reading with kidnappings on the increase. Yet that’s where I’m going today. I’ve not changed my mind. I’m keen to go and knock on Anna West’s door one more time, just for a glimpse of her. I’ve considered that if she’s not home again, then I’ll leave it. I can only be so obsessed, and returning every other day to try and catch her seems borderline insane.

  ‘Morning,’ Jon says, breaking my thoughts. ‘Sleep well? You went to bed so early last night.’

  ‘Just a long week catching up with me,’ I say, getting up to fix him a drink.

  ‘As it’s the start of half term, I’m thinking that the girls can’t be sat around the house all week. Harper’s done enough of that already.’

  ‘What do you have in mind?’

  ‘It’s been a while since my mother has spent time with the girls, so thinking we could pay her a visit today, for starters.’

  I struggle to swallow my mouthful of coffee. I had been trying to think up an excuse to go out on my own for a bit today, I hadn’t expected this.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure if I’m coming down with something. I’ve run to the loo this morning and feel icky.’

 

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