TRAPPED (34 page)

The knife glinted in the moonlight, the jagged teeth of it slashing the air. Johnny jumped back as Max lurched forward, swinging the weapon.

‘Take me on, will you?’

Gypsy screamed and tried to grab Max.

‘Leave him alone.’

‘No, Mum, no!’

Johnny came forward to Gypsy as she grabbed Max’s arm, but he easily flung her off, sending her spinning across the hall. The step Johnny had taken towards Max had put him in reaching distance of the steel blade, and a cold pain followed by a rush of warmth along Johnny’s stomach followed. Immediately he fell to his knees clutching his stomach as the blood poured over his arm.

‘Johnny!’

Gypsy’s voice punctured the air as she watched Max grab her son by a clump of hair, rocking forward on his knees. Max brought the knife back again and again, stabbing and twisting the knife into Johnny’s flesh, accompanied by Gypsy’s screams. Max let go and Johnny fell to the side in a pool of dark blood.

‘Now then, Gypsy, where were we?’

As Max came towards her a loud police siren was heard from outside, making him freeze for a second. He turned and started to head for the front door, but paused before he disappeared, sneering as he spoke. ‘Don’t think this is over yet Gypsy, we’ve still got unfinished business. This is only the start.’

Gypsy scrambled on all fours towards her son. She lifted his head and cradled him in her arms, crying.

‘Johnny, please, please don’t leave me.’

She could see she needed to get help and got up to run towards the front door which was still open from Max leaving, but as she stepped out her exit was blocked. She screamed and staggered back. The stranger walked into the hall and saw Johnny lying on the floor. He bent down and took a deep breath as he lifted him up, carrying him to the door. He stopped and turned to Gypsy. ‘Where’s your car?’

Without waiting for an answer, Tommy Donaldson walked out into the night, carrying Johnny in his arms.

Gypsy and Lorna clung to the headrest of the backseat as Tommy weaved in and out of the Soho traffic, taking a no left turn to tear right into the main entrance of the hospital.

Tommy drove towards the high red hoarding boards with the words ‘emergency’ written in reflective letters. In front of him was a barrier and, putting his foot down, he careered Gypsy’s Porsche Cayenne 4x4 through it, snapping part of it off and scraping the serrated end of the pole down the side of her brand new car.

Screeching to a halt on the ‘ambulance only’ parking spot, the Accident and Emergency doors opened, triggered by the Porsche on the sensors.

As Tommy jumped out of the car covered in Johnny’s blood, nursing staff swarmed around and like a well-oiled machine, had Johnny out of the car and onto the trolley within minutes.

Frankie, who’d got lost trying to find a place to have a smoke, turned the corner of the corridor. His mouth fell open as he saw Tommy and Gypsy covered in blood with a shell-shocked Lorna behind them.

‘Holy Christ.’

Then he saw who was lying on the trolley. He let out an animalistic cry. ‘No!’

As they ran he turned to Gypsy. ‘What happened, Gypsy, what the hell happened?’

There was no answer as they watched the staff with organised urgency slide Johnny onto the waiting bed. Pink plastic needles were forced into veins on the back of Johnny’s limp hand.

‘Stand back.’

Frankie listened to the same words he’d heard only a few hours ago as the nurses attempted resuscitation by hand, but with every compression more blood pumped out from the abdominal gashes.

‘Cut the clothes.’

The nurse cut away at Johnny’s clothes and threw them to the side, beyond the pool of red which was spreading across the floor. The grey rubber wheels of the trolley were set in a shallow pool of coagulating blood. Tiny rivers of fresh blood haemorrhaged off the edge of the bed and ran in streams towards Frankie.

‘We’ve got an output.’

Nobody really knew how long they’d been waiting. It could’ve been a few minutes but it could’ve been a few hours. Everyone was in shock.

‘You really should let a doctor see to you.’

The staff nurse looked at Gypsy kindly.

‘I’m fine.’

‘Well at least let me get you a top to wear.’

Gypsy nodded and became conscious of her torn dress coming off her shoulder with Johnny’s dried blood all over her bra. Frankie, who hadn’t said anything since they’d been brought into the family waiting room on the ICU turned to Gypsy with angry concern.

‘What happened? It looked like a fucking blood bath down there. Look at you, Gyps.’

Lorna spoke up. ‘Leave it Frank, not now eh?’

‘Don’t tell me not now, Lorn. Johnny’s in theatre with his life in the balance and my wife looks like she’s been on some hedonistic adventure.’

Gypsy stared with so much scorn at Frankie that he looked away, embarrassed at his crass comment. She stormed out of the room and headed for the stairs, leaving Lorna staring hard at Frankie. ‘What did you bleeding say that for?’ she shouted at her brother.

Lorna slapped him on his back as she marched out of the room, hoping to see if she could catch up with Gypsy.

‘Gypsy, wait. I’m Tommy. Tommy Donaldson.’

Tommy stood in the dim corner of the fifth floor stairwell and put out his hand, his shirt still wet with Johnny’s blood. Hearing his name she flinched back but she managed to answer him. ‘Thank you for what you did.’

‘You don’t remember me?’

Gypsy studied his face and saw how handsome he was. Crystal blue eyes, a strong angular face and raven black hair but she didn’t think she knew him. The name; yes, without a doubt. But him; no.

‘I don’t think we’ve met babe.’

Gypsy began to head down the stairs again, needing to get some fresh air and wanting to get away from this extraordinarily handsome but strange man.

‘I heard you scream.’

Gypsy hesitated and spoke tightly.

‘I know, and I’m grateful Tommy, really I am, but if you don’t mind I want to go for a walk. Johnny’s still in surgery, he’ll probably be in there for a while yet.’

She got further down the stairs and she heard Tommy speak again. ‘I knew my dad was planning something but I didn’t know what. Ever since he stabbed Frankie, he’s been more on edge than usual. So a few days ago I decided to follow him, to see what he was up to, and he led me to your house. Although I didn’t know it was your house at the time. I hung around a bit and saw him talking to Lorna in the square. I didn’t think much of it so I went to get some cigarettes, but when I walked back through the square to go home, I saw Dad coming out of your house and I knew. I just knew something bad had happened. I let myself into your house and that’s when I saw Lorna in a pool of blood on the floor. But it was probably you he was after. All that fucking shit with Frankie had got right under his skin. I guess he knew the only real way to hurt Frankie was through his family – but I didn’t know
you
were his family.’

Gypsy looked at Tommy strangely, feeling more and more uncomfortable with the conversation. ‘So why were
you
at the house tonight as well?’

‘Because I knew he’d eventually come back to finish it off. I didn’t know when but I couldn’t let him, not when I knew you were real. I couldn’t let you scream again, Gypsy.’

Gypsy, not understanding, tensed up again. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m sorry but I really have to go.’

‘I was there. I was there when he did it. When Max hurt you. I was only a boy at the time.’

Gypsy stopped and held onto the railings for support as Tommy gently walked towards her, taking off his jacket and putting it around her shoulders. She heard herself breathing heavily as she looked into Tommy’s eyes and began to recognise him.

He was the boy with Max. The beautiful boy who couldn’t have been older than five or six. She felt as if she was going to faint as she listened to Tommy speak again. He tilted his head and stared at Gypsy warmly, continuing to talk.

‘It was your voice, your scream I heard. You’re the woman in my dreams. The woman who’s haunted my waking hours. I remember everything. But what I didn’t realise was that you were real until I saw you on the day Lorna was attacked. It’s you I see in the woods. It’s you I see being dragged into the cottage before he left you in the car park. I see it and hear it all the time in my head and in my dreams, but what I see most of all Gypsy, what I see so clearly and so vividly is not being able to help you when you screamed out. I couldn’t stop it then but I can now – and I promise I will.’

Gypsy searched Tommy’s face and the memories came flooding back as if it was only yesterday. They’d all been on the bus.

‘Move along sweetie, I know you’d like to stay up close and personal but we’ve got to be fair darlin’ and let these other passengers on.’

A passenger had taken it upon herself to shuffle everyone down the bus and Gypsy was squashed along with all the other people, including the little boy, pressed up against the window.

It was crowded and Gypsy was relieved to get off. Why she’d bothered going all the way to Essex she didn’t know but Frankie was away and she’d got lonely in the house, so she’d thought she’d take a trip to the shops and see some of her mates who’d moved out of the East End and up to Essex.

It’d seemed like a good idea at the time but the car Frankie had bought her had packed in on her on the outskirts of Buckhurst Hill and now she was trying to make her way back to Soho. If Frankie knew she was out late, he’d have a fit. She wouldn’t tell him and just make out she’d lent her car to her friend Molly.

‘Hang on, wait up darlin’.’

Gypsy turned around as she walked towards the main road and saw a man she vaguely recognised from Soho, accompanied by a little boy no older than five or six. He smiled at her, his handsome face lighting up under the street lamps; he was one of the most angelic children Gypsy had seen.

‘I recognise you, aren’t you Frankie’s missus? Long way from home. I’m Max by the way and this is my boy Tommy.’

‘Well nice to meet you Max and Tommy. I’m Gypsy. I’ve been a bit of a clump really and took it upon meself to go shopping and then the car broke down, found myself stranded. Good job Frankie’s away; he’d go mad if he knew.’

‘Well I won’t tell him, if you don’t.’

Max grinned at her.

‘Seeing as though both of us are heading towards Wanstead High Street to get the bus up West, why don’t we take the short cut across Hollow Ponds, it’ll save us having to go all the way around or wait God knows how long for another bus. And if the boogie man does come along, I can always jump behind you for protection.’

Gypsy looked at the little boy who smiled at her, his beautiful eyes dazzling brightly. It couldn’t do any harm; it wasn’t as if anything would happen, he had his little boy with him.

‘Okay, hopefully we can get there before midnight.’

Gypsy started to walk and to tell Max about her friend who’d just lost her job, hardly stopping to catch her breath as she did so.

The path into the woods was dark but the sky was clear, allowing the moonlight to cast shadows along the ground. When they got further into the woods she heard Max say her name.

‘Gypsy?’

She turned to see if the little boy was alright; it must be difficult for him to keep up and it was getting late, but as she did a fist smashed against her face. The force knocked her to the floor and in the moonlight she saw the little boy’s eyes wide in terror.

In her haze she felt herself being dragged along the ground as branches and stones scratched her. Semi-conscious, she heard a car engine and the cry of the little boy and she realised she was being driven somewhere.

She woke up on a bed naked and as she moved her head, she
heard her name being called out. She heard it again, in a tiny whisper and then the closet door flung open and the little boy stood there watching her. He looked like he was going to say something, but the sound of Max coming through made him run into the corner, making her scream.

‘Hello, Gypsy.’ The grin on Max’s face was like a demonic clown; his eyes were dark and vacant. She began to scream
and she saw the boy cover his ears. Max taped her mouth and
bound her hands. Slow tears trickled down her face, stuffing up her nose, making it harder to breathe. As the tape pulled back on her mouth, her eyes bulged with panic.

‘Now we’re going to have some fun.’

Gypsy’s screams stopped. There was no one to hear her as she watched in horror as Max began to undo his belt.

The car park opposite Lexington Street was deserted. Gypsy sat next to Max, her hands still bound, terrified but with a small hope she might get out of it alive.

‘Not a word; if I find out you’ve breathed a word of this I’m coming for you. Do you understand?’

Gypsy nodded her head and from the back she heard the little boy crying. Max shouted gruffly.

‘Keep that fecking noise down.’

The crying didn’t stop and Max got out of the car and grabbed his son.

‘Stand there and shut up, if you don’t want to feel me fist lad.’

Gypsy watched the boy stand shaking under the street light as Max got back into the car. He started to grope her, his hands everywhere as he grunted and groaned.

Ten minutes later he leant over and untied her hands.

‘Remember, not a word.’

With that warning, he opened the passenger door, kicking Gypsy out onto the cold floor.

‘Come on son, get in the fecking car.’

Max started up the engine and reversed, pulling to a stop as he waited for Tommy to run to the car. Gypsy watched as the little boy ran past but he paused for a moment standing above her, not knowing what to do as she lay at his feet, his eyes fearfully watching his father’s car at all times. He gently reached down and put his small hand out, touching Gypsy’s face. The boy opened his mouth and went to move towards her again but the beep of the horn was sounded and he ran off, leaving Gypsy alone.