The One Who Got Away - L.A. Detwiler

Скачать книгу

– although even with Dad’s advertising job, we’re far from the royalty she so believes. You’d think we’re descendants of the Queen herself.

      ‘So,’ I reply, trying to change the subject.

      ‘Terrible thing, that story about Elizabeth, huh? Such a sweet girl. Honestly. Who would do something so awful to her? I overheard my dad talking to Mum about it. Said the bite marks were deep and bloody and all over the girl. Even on her unmentionables. Disgraceful, isn’t it? Can you imagine? And to chop her up and put her in the skip like rubbish. I don’t even understand. It all just makes me ill,’ Phyllis says.

      My stomach churns at the thought. Phyllis’ dad is one of the constables, so she gets all sorts of inside information. Today’s, though, sends a shiver through me. I find my eyes darting around, as if at any moment, the killer could jump out and strangle me. Suddenly, the town that once felt dull feels lethal.

      ‘They have any leads? Any motives?’ I prod, squeezing Charles’ hand for comfort. He squeezes it back, a gesture I’ve come to love in our few months together.

      Phyllis shakes her head. ‘That’s the truly scary part. They’ve got nothing. Nothing at all. Whoever did it has covered his tracks well. I don’t know if anyone has any idea. But golly, isn’t it just terrifying? The killer out on the loose? Do you think he’ll strike again?’

      I touch Phyllis’ hand, mostly to comfort myself. ‘I’m sure it will be okay. There’s no reason to believe it will happen again. Who knows, maybe Elizabeth was mixing in the wrong crowd, you know?’

      Phyllis raises an eyebrow. ‘You know you don’t believe that.’

      I sigh, admitting she’s right. There’s no one in the world let alone West Green who could believe that saintly girl – too saintly for my liking, sometimes – would have any enemies.

      After some small talk about cheerier topics, Phyllis parts ways with us, heading off to catch up to her mother near the front of the market. Charles and I stay put, me leaning on his shoulder, taking in the sights of the town beside him. As always, I search for that disgusting face. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve encountered Oliver’s rage, mercifully, and he’s never been bold enough to harass me in public. For that, at least, I can be thankful. Still, it’s always in the back of my mind that someday, that all might change. It wouldn’t do at all to have him around Charles. It doesn’t do to have him lurking about me, either.

      Eventually, we rise from the bench, and I stretch in the rays of the sun. Charles and I pass the hour hand in hand, walking and talking, kissing and revelling in each other. When he drops me off later, tipping his hat to Mum, she simply glares, not even extending a dinner invitation as would be proper. No matter. Charles kisses me on the cheek, promises to call on me again as soon as he can, and heads to the church to retrieve his bicycle and ride home.

      Dad returns home well after dark, as usual, and Mum expresses her fears to him about my gallivanting about with a murderer on the loose. As always, Dad manages to calm Mum, winking at me over her head as he hugs her and soothes her. At least one of my parents is somewhat likeable.

      Later, when I head to bed, sitting at my desk by the window to peer out onto our street, my mind wanders to what Phyllis told me about the murder. Bite marks in all sorts of places – disturbing. Haunting. Who would do such a thing? To think it happened here, in West Green, this laid-back, lacklustre town.

      I lean against the window, staring out into the drizzly night when suddenly, I clutch my chest. Squinting, I lean closer to the murky glass, the hazy rain and darkness making it difficult to see, even with the streetlight. Still, as my heart beats wildly and I peer into the darkness, I’m certain that I’m not mistaken.

      Across the street, a shadowy figure stands on the walkway, studying the McConnel house. It’s too dark to make out who it is or what the person is doing, but even from here I’m certain it’s a male figure due to the bulk of his stature. A lump forms in my throat as the figure turns, as if peering up at me. I shudder, trying to make out the face but unable to as suddenly, the person turns and walks casually away.

      What was that? Who was it? I wonder, tears forming as panic rises. Is it – no, it can’t be. He must have calmed down by now. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen him. Time has dulled his resolve to get retribution, hasn’t it? But could the figure be someone else with even more sinister intent than Oliver? After all, Oliver’s a monster in his own right. But even he wouldn’t stoop to such horrific levels as the maniac who killed Elizabeth – would he? It’s a terrifying prospect, thinking that anyone in this town would be capable of such an atrocity. I think of Elizabeth’s mangled body tossed in the skip like rubbish, her face contorted. I shudder. I think about waking up my parents, to tell them what I’ve seen. But what have I seen? A person in the street? Nothing criminal, of course. I’m sure it’s just my weary brain panicking due to all the paranoia in town. That’s all. Who wouldn’t be bothered by the thought of Elizabeth in pieces? We’re all on edge. And when one’s on edge, the mind doesn’t hesitate to play warped tricks.

      I crawl into bed, talking myself down. I take a deep breath and count, one, two, three, just like Mum always told me to do when I was nervous. As a child, I was often panicky, my heart racing at odd moments. She always taught me to count to three and to let it all go with the exhale of breath.

      When I close my eyes, I reassure myself. No sense in getting my parents worked up over nothing. It was just a person in the street. Gosh, it was probably a constable patrolling, after all. Elizabeth was an unfortunate tragedy, but nothing more. It will all be fine. West Green is a safe place to live. But as I drift off to sleep that night thinking about Charles, I know the dreams that come will be more like nightmares as the terror from recent events settles into my chest, my bones, and my heart.

       Chapter 3

       Smith Creek Manor Nursing Home

       2019

      It feels so far below. The little pathway, the ground. It’s too far. My breathing is rapid as I study the ground. I thought I could do it, but I can’t. I can’t be up here. I turn now, looking back to Claire and the woman who are standing in the doorway.

      ‘It’s so far up,’ I say shakily. Claire steps forward.

      ‘It’s going to be fine, Mum,’ she consoles.

      My head shakes, my heart racing as panic rises. I’m so far up here. One, two, three, I count in my head, just like my mum taught me so long ago. Over and over I count to three, the magic number. I need to calm down, but I can’t.

      ‘It’s too far up. If there’s a fire … you know I can’t be this far up,’ I say, my voice croaking out the words.

      Claire reaches for my hands now. ‘Mum, listen. You know it’s okay. It’s very safe here, right Ms Martin?’

      ‘Oh, yes. State-of-the-art fire alarms and sprinklers. All will be okay, darling. No need to worry. For now, this is our only open room. Maybe in the future we could move you, but for now …’

      My breathing picks up as I can feel the flames on my hands, licking up my body, scorching my face. I will burn here. It’s too far up. Why did they put me on this floor? My mind flashes to indistinguishable, panicked faces as the fire consumes them. It shows me a blip of my own face as I scream in agony, the smoke choking me as I claw at the window. I bury the thought, squeezing my eyes shut. So many years, but it never gets any easier, and my fears only seem to get stronger.

      ‘Mum, listen. You need to calm down. This isn’t good for you. You know you’re safe here. That’s why we picked this place. Safe. Sound.’ She leads me to the tiny bed, and I sit down. I breathe in and out. It’s okay. I’m going to be okay. Claire’s right. I’m fine. This fear isn’t anything new. I’m going to be fine.

      I glance over to the bedside table where the staff has propped up some of

Скачать книгу