The Attic Room: A psychological thriller (23 page)

Friday 28th July

To Nina’s relief Naomi slept right round the clock. She was
sombre when she awoke on Friday morning, however, and Nina decided the best
thing to do was to keep busy as well as give Naomi plenty of cuddles and
opportunities to talk about what had happened if she wanted to.

The other important thing was to get back to Arran asap.
Nina wasn’t sure if Naomi had realised Paul was still at large, but hell, this
wasn’t something she wanted to talk about till there were a few hundred miles
separating them from Bedford. She sent Naomi to help Sam make breakfast while
she booked flights for the next day before e-mailing their arrival time to
Beth, grinning when a reply appeared within minutes. Beth must be doing the
mails too, sitting at the kitchen table as she always did. And wow – just one
more sleep here in sunny Bedford and then they’d be travelling north, her and
her girl. Nina hugged herself.

‘Beth’s meeting us at Glasgow tomorrow,’ she said, sliding
onto a high stool at Sam’s breakfast bar and reaching out to rub Naomi’s
shoulder. ‘She’s taking the car, if she can get it booked on the ferry, to get
us home as quick as she can.’

Naomi’s face lit up. ‘Great. And then can I go riding on
Monday? My wrist’s better now.’

Nina’s heart contracted with love. ‘You certainly can. We’ll
get the next trekking course organised for you too.’ She smiled at the girl,
glorifying in the answering smile from Naomi. How great it was not to have to
count the pennies any more. Naomi could even have her own pony... It was going
to take a bit of getting used to, this having money.

‘So what are we doing today?’ asked Naomi, and Nina turned
to Sam.

‘Should we pack up the last few things at the house first,
then go and see Cassie and Glen?’ she suggested. ‘We’ll go to Emily on the way
to the airport tomorrow.’

‘Okay. I’ll tell Mum to expect us for coffee this afternoon.’

Nina phoned David Mallony for permission to break the seal
on John Moore’s front door, and was told there was still no sign of Paul, but
the police had traced the owners of the farmhouse on holiday in the Lake
District.

‘We haven’t found anything to link them to the Moores or
Wrights,’ he said. ‘I think the connection there must go back to the previous
occupants, the people who had the place when Paul was a lad, and they’ve been
dead for years. I’ll send an officer to meet you at John Moore’s house; he’ll
watch the place while you’re inside. Until Wright’s found we have to be very
careful.’

‘Thanks, David,’ said Nina. Thank God there would be a
policeman with them at the house. The thought of going back was daunting.

She rang off and gave the phone to Naomi to call her father,
careful to keep her voice neutral. Alan’s reaction to Naomi’s abduction became
more infuriating every time she thought about it. It wasn’t so much that he
hadn’t come back to the UK, after all, South Africa was a long way away – but
now that she’d been found, a few concerned phone calls from her father would
have helped distract Naomi and reassure her that she was loved. But Alan seemed
to have relegated both Naomi’s abduction and her own to a ‘getting lost in the
supermarket’ level of importance. Sam was doing a much better job at providing
her child with concerned fatherly support. And Nina wasn’t quite sure what to
make of that.

John Moore’s house looked exactly the same as the very
first time she’d laid eyes on it, and Nina glared at the ivy-clad walls with
distaste. Definitely, this would be the last time she’d come here. After all
that had come to light these past couple of weeks she had no wish to go inside
even now, but there were still some things here she wanted. The blue vases from
the bedroom, for instance. They’d been Claire’s, and spending the past
twenty-five years with John Moore hadn’t made them less beautiful.

The police officer broke the seal and stationed himself at
the front door while they trooped inside. Naomi started to hunt round for her
missing ipod, and Nina went into the living room. The air smelled musty; it was
as though the house had been shut up for centuries and not a few days. And
there was the sofa where Paul sat and told her a pack of lies – and she’d
believed him.

‘Nina, stop it. Let’s find the stuff you want and get out of
here,’ said Sam, rubbing her shoulder.

Nina heaved a shaky sigh, staring at the big table, where
two stray photos lay gathering dust. The rest were still with Emily. She would
collect them when they visited tomorrow.

‘There’s nothing in here,’ she said. ‘I’ll have a quick look
in the study and then pack the last odds and ends from the bedroom. Sam, could
you maybe bring the big box of china down from the attic? There might be
something nice there, like those vases.’

He gave her a salute and bounded up the stairs two at a
time. A shriek of triumph told Nina that Naomi had found her precious ipod, and
she went into the study to see her daughter booting up Sam’s old laptop.

‘It was under the microwave. I’ll charge it up here now. And
Mum, could we take that little desk home? It would look quite nice in my room.’

Nina glanced at the secretaire, her lips twitching. So much
for her own plans for it. And if Naomi was developing a taste for antique
furniture it was just as well they’d inherited John Moore’s millions.

‘Sure,’ she said, going through to the kitchen. ‘Sam can
organise to have it transported up to Arran.’

Or if he kept his word and came to see them on the island,
he could bring it himself, if he drove up. And talking of Sam, where was the
man? He’d been up in the attic for ages, and there were no thumps and bumps
telling of him shifting stuff around.

Nina ran up to the first floor. The vases were still on the
chest of drawers in the room she and Naomi had occupied, and she pulled a
couple of towels from the airing cupboard to wrap them in.

‘Sam?’ she called. ‘We’re about finished here. I’m packing
those vases; I’ll take them on the plane. Have you found the china?’

No answer. Nina stood still. Silence from the attic; nothing
was moving up there.

‘Sam?’

Nina’s stomach cramped uncomfortably when once again, no
reply came from above, and she dropped the vases on what had been Naomi’s bed.
Something was wrong… Sam? She crept out to the landing. The attic door above
her was cracked open, dim electric light shining round its edges like something
from a horror film – but now she was being ridiculous.

And yet…

Nina stood at the bottom of the attic stairs, the hairs on
the back of her neck rising and her breath catching painfully in her chest.

Paul was up there. She could smell him. She would never
forget that smell.

The house remained silent. Ice-cold fear was pumping through
Nina’s body with every beat of her heart. Oh no no… Naomi… She had to get Naomi
out of this house, immediately, right this instant. It was Naomi Paul would be
after; she was the one he’d wanted to help catch his paedos. Thank Christ there
was a policeman at the door. And dear God in heaven – Sam, what had happened to
Sam? But Naomi came first. Her heart breaking, Nina turned away from the attic.
Be normal, Nina. Paul mustn’t know he’d been rumbled…

‘Get a move on, Sam – I’ll take this lot downstairs,’ she
called, aware that her voice sounded nothing like her own but unable to do
anything about it.

Quick, quick, quick, downstairs and away, Nina – and thank
heavens Naomi was down there on the laptop and not trailing round after her
mother, looking for souvenirs. Down, down, as if everything was normal… She was
in the study now, pulling Naomi from the desk, smothering the child’s protest
with one hand.

‘Shh! Paul’s upstairs. We have to get out of here, come on!’

Naomi’s face turned pale and she followed Nina without a
word. Nina eased the front door open, and they slid out and stood in an odd
little huddle on the doorstep with the policeman on duty.

‘He must have knocked Sam out,’ whispered Nina, clutching
Naomi to her side, sick horror making her legs shake. When was this going to
end? Paul had a gun, until more police arrived they were in grave danger yet
again. Why had he come back here, to the scene of his suffering as a child? He
couldn’t have known they were coming today, hell, he must have
chosen
to hide out here. In the attic room. How completely
macabre that was. Nina stood hugging Naomi while the constable radioed for
reinforcements.

‘They’ll be with us in minutes,’ he said in a low voice. ‘The
boss says try not to upset him, he might take it out on Sam Harrison. You two
stay put – he won’t be able to shoot at you from the attic windows while you’re
here under the eaves. I’ll go in and see what’s happened to Sam.’

He slid inside, disappearing up the stairs, treading
lightly.

Nina craned her neck to see along the road. This would
definitely count as an emergency; the police would be blue-lighting through
town. The best thing would be to get hold of Paul by whatever means it took,
and get him help. A psychiatric –

With appalling suddenness a shot rang out upstairs, and two
starlings screamed heavenwards from the garden next door. Nina and Naomi
clutched each other again.

‘Was that a gun?’ Naomi’s face was pale.

‘Hell, yes.’ Nina’s breath caught in her throat. Who had Paul
shot at? But it must be the policeman, if he’d been going to shoot Sam he’d
have done it before now. Or – had they got into the kind of situation where a
hostage – Sam – ends up getting killed… Dear God, what should she do… there was
still no sign of the police. Nina made a spot decision.

She handed Naomi her phone. ‘Call David Mallony, his number’s
there. Tell him what’s going on. I’m going to see if Sam needs help.’

Naomi grabbed her arm. ‘No! You can’t – he might shoot you
too.’

Nina cupped the child’s face. ‘Sweetie, I have to. He won’t
shoot me. And we can’t just do nothing. So you get phoning – and stay right
here, okay? Under the eaves where you’re safe.’

Naomi nodded, her face rigid. ‘Are you sure he won’t shoot
you?’

‘Positive. It’s you he wants, to, um, help him trap some
other people. He won’t risk you running away. I won’t be long.’

She turned back into the house and raced upstairs. Dear God
let Sam be safe. Alive. She’d only just found him… And please let her get out
of this safely too – she had a child who needed her. Maybe she should have
stayed with Naomi. But imagine if Sam was hurt or even died because she hadn’t
gone to help him – she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if that happened.

There was no sign of the policeman on the upstairs landing
and no sound from Paul. Nina climbed the attic stairs, her heart thumping. Her
mouth was dry but steely determination filled her head as she stood on the
little landing, staring at the attic door. It was slightly open, but all she
could see was the stairs.

‘Paul, I know you’re up there. Where’s Sam? And the
policeman? What happened?’ Good, she sounded in control.

Footsteps approached down the stairs on the other side of
the door. It swung a little further open, though there was still nothing to be
seen of Sam or the young policeman.

‘Nina. They’re both up here, but they’re not saying much. We
need to talk, Nina. I need to get those last two bastards.’

Fear and adrenalin rushed through Nina and she swayed on her
feet. Paul’s voice was high, cracking on almost every word; this time he really
did sound mad. And Sam...

A hand on the wall steadied her. ‘Paul. Of course we can
talk. I want to get them every bit as much as you do.’

And she did, didn’t she, even though he had lied about them
abusing her as well. This was so hard – she was revolted by what he was doing,
yet the state he was in today was due to her coming here and stirring things
up. If she hadn’t done that, Paul would have finished his ‘research’ and handed
his findings over to the police. Which would have been a much tidier end to the
whole affair than the one they were seeing now. And the thought that her
actions had caused her cousin to have such a king-sized breakdown was truly
appalling.

Utter stillness in the attic room. Oh God. What was he doing
now?

‘Good, up you come. But remember I’ve got a gun, Nina. And
nothing left to lose.’

But she had everything to lose. Paul’s plan had gone
horribly wrong, from his point of view, and she had no intention of confronting
him. And where the shit were the police?

‘Actually, I think I’ll stay right here and talk. You don’t
have to do this, Paul, the police will find those scumbags for you. How did you
get in here, anyway? The place was sealed.’

Was Sam alive? Nina’s world began to spin around in front of
her eyes, and she crouched down till the dizziness passed. Paul was mad – was
he a psychopath? Psychopaths could kill people without a second thought, couldn’t
they? Look what he’d done to Sabine. But the important thing was to keep him
talking until the police arrived.

A thump shook the staircase as Paul sat down on the stairs
on his side of the door. Leaning sideways, Nina could see one of his feet. He
began to talk, his voice cracking and strained.

‘Well, Nina, the kitchen window opens if you just breathe on
it from the right direction. And you must know why I have to do this. Maybe you
didn’t harm me personally, but your father did. And mine. And all their
horrible friends. I was raped and assaulted every weekend, Nina. Years it went
on. Can you imagine what it did to me?’

‘I can’t imagine, Paul, but there are people who could help
you. Doctors, therapists. You don’t need to go through this alone and you
certainly don’t need to hurt me and my family like this.’ She wished the words
back the minute they were said. The last thing she wanted was to antagonise
him.