Family Drama 4 E-Book Bundle (84 page)

Sylvie didn’t believe a word of it but wisely she held her tongue.

They’d gone to their honeymoon hotel. She could check it out if she wanted, he’d give her the address. He’d arranged to meet Dottie downstairs in the foyer and then they were going to go out. But first, he’d popped out to buy a paper and when he got back, there was no sign of Dottie and Patsy. He’d walked right along the seafront. He’d asked everyone, but no one had seen her. She’d simply vanished. He hung his head and looked so dejected, Sylvie felt compelled, for the sake of appearing to be the concerned friend, to lay a comforting hand over his.

‘You and she were close,’ he said, looking up at her. ‘What d’you reckon? Did she have a fancy man?’

‘Of course not!’ cried Sylvie indignantly. ‘How can you possibly think that? You know perfectly well Dottie is utterly devoted to you.’

Reg stared at her. What was that glint in his eye? And could she see a ghost of a smile on that cruel mouth? Sylvie was about to pick up her cup when she noticed her hand was trembling. She took a long drag on her cigarette instead.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ he said, lowering his head again, but not before she saw something playing at the corner of his mouth. There it was again. It was only a fleeting movement, a twitch of a muscle – that was all, but all at once, Sylvie realised this was a game. What should she do? Go along with it or front it out?

‘You can stop play-acting, Reg,’ she said coldly.

His head jerked up and he stared at her with a wounded expression.

‘You don’t fool me,’ she said, drawing on her cigarette in an attempt to look calm and in control. ‘I can tell you’re up to something.’

‘How can you be so cruel, Sylvie?’ he protested. His voice had a catch in it. ‘My dear wife has …’

‘You forget,’ she went on. ‘I stayed in your house the night of Michael’s wedding. I heard what you did to your ‘dear wife’. I wonder what the police would say if I told them you used to rape her?’ His eyes narrowed and Sylvie felt her heartbeat thumping. ‘So you needn’t come all that perfect marriage stuff with me.’

He rose to his feet menacingly.

‘Be careful, Reg,’ Sylvie went on, willing her voice to stay strong. ‘At least four other people, including PC Kipling, know I’m here.’

She expected him to demand that she get out but to her surprise, Reg lowered himself back down in the chair with a smile. ‘Well, my dear,’ he sneered. ‘I don’t know what you have in mind, but I would think very carefully before you start making any wild accusations. You may not have enjoyed listening to our robust lovemaking, but what a man and his wife get up to in the privacy of their own bedroom is nobody else’s business but theirs.’

‘It doesn’t give you the right to force her.’

‘I think you will find, that in the eyes of the law, I have every right,’ he said silkily. ‘Dottie is my wife.’

‘You make me sick,’ Sylvie retorted.

‘But
I
believe in the sanctity of marriage,’ he went on piously. ‘Now, if I were to go outside of the bounds of my marriage, that would be a different kettle of fish, so to speak.’

He was staring at her in such a strange way, Sylvie could feel her colour rising. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ she snapped.

‘If I were to have
a little fling
…’ Reg said quietly. ‘Just a bit of
fun
, you understand …’

Sylvie went cold all over. He knew about Bruce! Had Dottie told him? No, no she would never betray a trust. But how else
did he know? She stubbed out her cigarette and picked up her gloves. ‘I don’t have to listen to all this …’

‘And if someone, say an old friend, discovered what I was doing,’ said Reg leaning into her face, ‘it might be a real problem, if say, my spouse was hoping to be a Member of Parliament one day.’

‘I haven’t the faintest idea what you are talking about,’ she said haughtily.

Reg leaned forward, his eyes glittering. ‘It never did take much to get your knickers off, did it, Sylvie?’

‘You are despicable,’ she snapped, her lip curling with disgust.

‘Now, now, my dear.’

Sylvie picked up her cigarette case and slipped it into her bag. ‘Is this an attempt to blackmail me?’

‘Perish the thought,’ he said brightly. ‘I was just supposing, that’s all. A friendly warning to be careful what you say outside these four walls.’

‘I don’t give a stuff about you, Reg Cox,’ Sylvie snapped. ‘My friend is missing and I’m going to find her.’

‘I wonder if Robin would be so cavalier about his marriage?’ Reg mused.

As she turned to leave the room, her arm brushed against the dresser and the papers he’d thrown so carelessly on the top cascaded to the floor. As Reg bent to pick them up, Sylvie felt the blood drain from her head but she said nothing. As he opened the door to let her out, she willed her legs to move effortlessly and refused to even look at him.

‘Thanks for coming, Sylvie,’ he called after her. ‘As soon as I hear something, I’ll give you a call.’

Climbing into her car, her hand was trembling as she turned the key in the ignition. Bastard, bastard! What a hateful little prick he was. Tears were welling up in her eyes. He thought he had her over a barrel. He reckoned that she wouldn’t dare to say anything because if she told the police about her fears, he would
tell Robin about Bruce. Well, that was a risk she would have to take. She dare not risk her affair coming out into the open, but how could she turn her back on her dearest friend? Something bad had happened to Dottie, she knew it. Those papers she’d knocked to the floor told her Reg had been going over his life policies and you only do that when you are positive that someone is dead.

Dottie moaned as the feelings came back again. Were they real or just a dream? The first time it felt as if it was real, but everything kept repeating itself.

It began with torchlight as the door had been eased open. Dottie felt a stream of cold air and a beam of light was played on her face. She had screwed up her eyes and tried to turn her head away.

‘No, Ada!’ a man’s voice had yelled. ‘For God’s sake, don’t switch on the light. You’ll blow us all to kingdom come. Open the window and get some air in here.’

Dottie had heard the sound of someone drawing back the curtains.

‘It’s all right, dear.’ The man’s voice was close to her head.

The woman screamed. ‘The window, it’s nailed shut!’

There was a rushing sound in her ears and the man’s voice faded away but there was no mistaking the urgency. ‘Quick, get them out of here.’

‘You’re safe now,’ said the soothing voice close to her ear. Not the man this time but a woman and Dottie realized she was actually in a bed. She tried to make sense of it all. How had she got from the room where Reg had left her to this one? She remembered being manhandled at one point. Someone had hold of her shoulders and someone else her feet. The rocking movement as they carried her turned her stomach. She had heaved and vomited. It tasted of gas and hit the floor with a light splashing sound. She remembered the sound of opening
doors and then the cold air hit her and she knew she was outside. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the sea. She remembered taking in great gulps of fresh air which was so sweet but it made her head hurt.

But she wasn’t outside now, she was in the warm and in bed. There was something over her mouth. She lifted her hand and pulled it away. ‘Patsy …’ she moaned. ‘Have you got Patsy?’

The woman’s voice came close again. ‘Keep the mask on, dear. It’s oxygen. It’ll help you breathe.’

She must be in hospital, but how had she got here? When she’d heard the sea, she’d tried to sit up but someone pushed her down and placed a blanket over her. ‘Stay there a minute, duck,’ the man had said kindly. ‘The ambulance is coming.’

She had difficulty in keeping her eyes open. They felt puffy and when she did manage to force her lids up, everything looked foggy. Someone wiped her face with a cloth and she heaved again. When she rolled back she had a terrible cramp in her stomach, a pain which gripped her like a vice. She had held herself around her middle murmuring, ‘Help me … Oh please, help me.’

Things began to fade again. She forced herself back to the present day and tried to remember. What was next? A bell. She had heard the sound of a bell getting louder and louder.

‘The ambulance is here,’ the man had said and Dottie had felt the relief flooding over her like giant waves. She had tried to focus her eyes on him. He was old. Who was he? Did she know him? Oh yes, he was the man she’d seen in the garden next door.

The next time she opened her eyes, a man in a uniform was holding her wrist. ‘I’m just taking your pulse, love.’

Where was Patsy?

The pain in her stomach came back. She groaned as it gripped every muscle.

‘What’s your name, dear?’

Dottie had tried to moisten her lips with her swollen tongue.
What was her name …? She tried to think. What was her name? She must have one: everybody had a name. It was on the tip of her tongue but she was hanged if she could remember what it was and, oh no, the pain was coming back again.

‘My baby …’ Dottie had moaned.

‘My colleague is seeing to her,’ the ambulance man had said. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get the both of you to hospital as soon as we can.’

A moment later, Dottie felt herself being lifted then the ambulance lurched as the men jumped out. It lurched again as they came back in with another stretcher.

Patsy … Dottie tried to sit up. Was she all right? As soon as she’d smelled the gas, she’d tried to get her out but Patsy didn’t want to move. She was so heavy and then when she got to the door it was locked. She couldn’t open it. She tried and tried to turn off the gas tap but it was too badly damaged. Someone had bashed it with something. As she had struggled to remember what had happened, a picture of Reg, his pockets full of squawking chickens, and brandishing a huge hammer floated before her eyes.

The woman had stuck her head into the ambulance and shouted, ‘You stupid cow!’ Dottie’s head had thumped and a wave of sickness had swept over her.

The woman’s face was distorted with anger. ‘You might want to do away with yourself,’ she’d screamed at Dottie. ‘But there was no need to try and take the kiddie with you!’

‘I didn’t,’ Dottie croaked. ‘Oh please, please help her.’

But instead of helping Patsy, the person beside her bed slowly turned into Reg. Dottie’s mouth tasted disgusting and everything was getting swimmy again. Reg was wringing Patsy’s neck.

‘No, no …’ Dottie felt so cold and clammy and she knew she was going to be sick. Reg had the tramp under his arm. With a cry of anguish Dottie flailed her arms in a vain attempt to stop him wringing his neck too. She came to for a moment and found
herself back in the bed. Not the one in the bungalow. Everything around her was white and clean. ‘Thank God,’ she thought. ‘I really am in hospital.’

‘We’d better give her another shot, nurse,’ said an unfamiliar male voice.

A second or two later, Dottie felt herself being gently held down. ‘A sharp prick,’ said the nurse, and everything went in on itself again.

Forty

‘As a matter of fact, we do have someone fitting that description,’ the ward sister told John. ‘Is she a patient of yours? She’s in a state of deep shock. We had to sedate her. She still hasn’t told us her name.’

John felt a mixture of relief and concern. ‘What happened to her?’

‘She’d tried to kill herself.’

‘Kill herself!’ He couldn’t disguise his shock.

‘She was admitted late Monday night.’

John frowned. She’d been here two days.

A nurse burst out of a side room and rushed towards them at breakneck speed with a trolley. John stepped neatly out of her way.

‘Walk, Nurse,’ the sister said sharply. ‘Walk.’

‘Yes, Sister. Sorry, Sister.’

‘The police want to interview her once she’s well enough,’ the Sister continued as she walked on in front of him. ‘In my humble opinion they should do something to change the law. When someone is distressed enough to attempt suicide, the last thing they want is to end up in jail.’

‘The woman I’m looking for had a child with her.’ John’s throat was thight and his voice sounded strangled. He coughed into his hand. ‘Is she here in this hospital too?’

The sister stopped walking and turned around.

‘A little girl,’ John continued. ‘About eight, dark curly hair, brown eyes, light brown skin, very pretty.’

‘In that case, Dr Landers,’ she said quietly. ‘I think you must prepare yourself for another shock …’

Dottie was lying flat in the bed with her eyes closed. Her hair was down. It lay like burnished bronze clouds all over the pillow. He’d often wondered what it would look like out of that bun of hers, but even in his wildest dreams he’d never expected it to be so beautiful. It was as much as he could do not to reach out and caress one of her curls between his fingers, but he was aware that the sister was still right behind him and still watching. Dottie looked so small, so fragile. Her skin was pale, like parchment, her hands limp by her side. Thank God she was alive … It was as much as John could do to control his emotions.

‘I think I would like to sit here with her for bit.’ He drew up a chair. Several times his mouth formed a word. ‘Hello?’ ‘Mrs Cox’ ‘Dorothy’ but he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

‘You said she was a patient?’ the sister said.

John cleared his throat noisily. ‘Actually, Sister, you said that. Mrs Cox … Dottie … is a friend.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said the sister. She seemed slightly embarrassed. ‘I think I’d better tell her doctor you are here,’ she said, bustling out of the room.

As he touched her hand, his heart ached for her. My poor Dottie … what you’ve been through. He leaned forward. ‘Dottie … Dottie, it’s me. John.’

Dottie opened her eyes and her heart lurched.
Oh John … you’ve come at last …
She gave him the faintest of smiles but one look at his anxious expression and it all came flooding back. She didn’t want to think about it. Patsy … Patsy was in the same ambulance as her. She remembered that awful smell, the smell of rotten eggs, then someone banging the door and Patsy lying on the floor. What happened? Why couldn’t she get out?