Текст книги "Leaving George"

Автор книги: Diane M. Dickson

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Chapter 20

Cool sand under her feet; a precious bead of relief in the pool of pain.

He had dragged her beside him, scuttling and tripping over rough grass, down the grit of the dunes and now he marched in the damp hardness of the tide washed beach. Her hands were still fastened behind her and she leaned forward for balance, stumbling when he forced her onward too quickly.

Breath burned in her throat and a stitch caught at her side. Her jaw was a persistent ache and as she tried to swallow, her damaged tongue caught on the hard gag. Everywhere was pain and it melded until all there was in the whole world was agony and evil. No nightmare had ever been so vile; no imagined scenario under the hammer of George’s control had come close to this and she couldn’t see how she would ever bear it.

Now they reached the rocks. Surely he wouldn’t make her climb, not with her hands tied and her feet bare, but he did. He pushed her on before him and steadied her with two hands, one on each arm. Sometimes he missed his footing and dragged on her screaming limbs and she groaned into the early daylight as tears tracked across her wounded face.

When they had climbed six feet or maybe a little more above the beach he dragged her to a halt and leaned to hiss into her ear. “I’m taking the tie off. Don’t even think of trying to run.” White heat seared her hands and as her arms dropped to her sides the fire in her shoulders caused her eyes to flood with fresh tears and stole her breath away. He forced her to her knees on the wet rocks.

He stepped now to the front and dragged a piece of rope from his jacket. Ignoring her gasps and groans he pulled her wounded arms forward and tied them loosely by the wrists. Fisting his hands in her hair he dragged her back to her feet and drove her on and up. The cliff was steeper now. This was higher than she had been before, though she had clambered to the sheep field from the lower levels closer inland. As they climbed they headed southwards out onto the rocky promontory. Would he drown her then? Would she be dashed to a pulp on the Cornish coast and become another statistic in the annals of foolish walkers and irresponsible tourists? So be it; she would have peace at least. Her feet were soled with blood and grit where sharp stones had stabbed and torn. Stumbling and slithering they made their way until at the start of the descent he turned and pushed her to his left.

There was a fissure in the rock. How had he found this place? Of course the stranger in the garden, at the fete and on the beach had been him, watching and exploring and planning and it had come to this. The floor sloped downwards inside the cliff where a small cave had been formed by centuries of rushing tides. So then, this was where she would die. He pushed her onto a narrow ledge and she curled forward and hid her face in bleeding hands and sobbed.

“I didn’t want to do this Pauline. You have brought this on yourself. You do see that don’t you?” He dragged on a handful of hair forcing her to face him “I said, you do see don’t you that this is all your fault?”

She couldn’t speak but just stared up at him in the mild light and was subsumed by hopelessness.

“All you have to do is to tell me where you’ve put the stuff. That’s all.” In truth he seemed anguished and she realised then that fear had some part in what was driving his viciousness. If she could have given him anything at that moment, anything in the world to stop this, then she would. She could not though, for she had nothing he wanted.

He leaned and untied the belt from around her face. The pain in her jaw was expected now, coming as it did after so much and so she gingerly closed her mouth and felt the roil of nausea and rode it and breathed through it.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

She shook her head. It was hard to form the words but a whisper came and found its way through her swollen lips. “I can’t. I haven’t got them. Haven’t got anything. Never had anything.”

He spun away from her with a curse and kicked at the ground. “Right, right. You’ll stay here now and, if the sea doesn’t get you perhaps you’ll see sense.” She gave a small shake of her head, she was done.

He made her stand again and pushed her further into the darkness along the ledge, pressed against the rock wall. He grabbed her hands and tied them behind her and then ran the rope down and round her feet. He dragged the belt from his pocket but after peering at the wounds in the corners of her mouth he growled at her. “There will be no use shouting; nobody will hear you. Nobody comes here. I’ve watched and I’ve been down here and the waves are too loud so don’t even bother calling out.”

He turned and with no further backward glance scrambled into the light and left her alone with the roar of the ocean and the drip of salt water and the enormity of fear.

Chapter 21

When she was sure he was gone Pauline screamed out. The effort tore at her throat and the sound was that of a desperate animal but she continued to yell until pain and exhaustion reduced the cries to a whimpering plea. “Oh please, please, someone. Please.”

He had told her there was no point. He said the cave was too far from the quiet beach and the roar of waves would be too loud but she had needed to try.

There were no more tears left for her to cry now and her nerves were numbed. How was it possible that she was tied with rope in a dark, damp cave? She was Pauline Green. An ordinary person; she was just Pauline. The hard wetness of her perch and the constant drip of moisture argued for truth and in the end all she was able to do was mourn and wonder how it had come to this.

She shuffled and tried to ease the pain in her arms and shoulders, in her back and her neck. After a time she managed to swing her legs round and lay like a trussed chicken on the wet ledge. Shivers came in painful waves and with each one she whimpered through chattering teeth. There were no beach cries, no laughing children or barking dogs. The only sound was the sea, relentless, endless and timeless. It was hell, but then her body and her brain took her away from it. The oblivion that lulled her wasn’t sleep but it was better than reality.

A variation in the noise brought her back to wakefulness, a rattle that wasn’t there before. There was a rolling clatter that swelled with each wave.

The tide was coming in.

She wanted to sit up and look down into the depths of the cavern but it was beyond her. Lying on the hard stone her limbs and muscles had stiffened and she simply didn’t have the strength in mind or body to fight the pain. She lay quietly, barely breathing.

How high would the water rise?

During the last hours death had seemed a tempting thought, but now it was inconceivable that she should simply lie and wait for it. No matter how bitter, life is sweet and the least she must do was to try to survive. She gritted her teeth and with a bark of pain managed to swing her legs around. After almost toppling from the ledge she desperately shuffled her behind backwards and dragged her feet up. Now that her knees were bent the pull on her arms was eased. Spots of sunshine shone through holes in the rocks above her and lit the wall in tiny smears of gold and she was able to peer down into the void.

Swirls of light and dark rushed to and fro across the bottom of the cave. Small boulders and pebbles rolled and played in the waves and filled the air with another layer of sound. The echo of the sea amongst the cliffs was louder now and she realised that when it was no longer possible to hear the pebbles it would be because they were submerged beneath the water. There was no weed inside where she was and she didn’t know whether that was because of the lack of light or because the tide would fill the space, scouring it clean and snuffing out what was left of her. Terror rippled through her, she didn’t want to drown here in the dark. Tears tracked down her face and a great sob sounded out into the void.

Near to her head was a tiny hollow in the dark wall and she shuffled closer. Leaning against the surface of the rock she slid her face towards the indentation and stuck out her tongue. She tasted sweet water. The relief was overwhelming. It was rainwater seepage from the rocks above. So, did this mean that she would not drown? If the water were not salt then surely it was because the tide didn’t reach this far. It must do, surely. With agonising slowness she leaned lower until her lips touched the cold puddle and she sucked the gritty nectar into her damaged mouth and though it was only enough to wet her lips and tongue it was bliss. She shuffled further along the ledge, yes, another dip, another small drink and then another. In her excitement she almost toppled into the depths and she stopped and took some deep breaths to calm herself. In the depths of despair and fear she was amazed to feel the stretch of a smile on her face. A small victory, a tiny triumph and as she licked the walls of her prison she found a new resolve to endure.

No-one would search for her. He had taken her coat and bag and hidden them in the dunes and so when Dolly came for their morning coffee she would assume that she had gone for a walk. He had made no obvious mess in the house it didn’t seem and so there was nothing to raise the alarm. He would return though; when he had done whatever had taken him away today he would come back and berate her again and bully and try to make her confess. She must find a way to convince him that she had no diamonds and no computer memory stick. But then like a dark worm the thought uncoiled: what would he do when he realised that she was, in truth, of no use to him at all?

Chapter 22

To drive back the terror Pauline had to hold onto a belief in her future. If she accepted that death was inevitable then surely the best and quickest thing to do was to throw herself from the ledge to drown in the swirling water. But no; this wasn’t an option. She knew that she would relive this horrible event for the rest of her life always, supposing there was to be more life for her. If, when she thought of it, she saw herself as a snivelling coward, then it would torment her and so she resolved to endure and tried to think; to plan.

The rainwater soothed her mouth and throat. The dripping soothed her nerves because while there was dripping she would be able to drink. Each little pool and hollow filled quickly and she blessed the inclement weather of the last few days.

Her wrists were raw, the skin torn and enflamed with rope burns. She had pulled and twisted at the ties but it only brought more pain. She had coiled and stretched her aching limbs every way that she could in an attempt to loosen the rope around her ankles, but in her confined position on the ledge and with the insults already paid to her body she had to acknowledge finally that she couldn’t escape the bonds.

In books and films there would be sharpness in the rocks. She would saw the ropes until the strands gave way and she would be free. But this place that she was in had been smoothed by eons of tides. The rocks were rounded. She had shuffled back and forth along the ridge but had found nothing rough enough. It was difficult to find a position where the rope was taught and she could still move. Nevertheless, endless minutes had been spent simply rubbing the rope along the edges of the rock, surely it would wear through. Rock, rope, hope; a desperate triumvirate. Yet rope held.

The gold smudges of sunlight moved across the walls. Pauline watched with exhausted eyes as the day rolled around. No-one found her and though there would be families and couples on the beach they were a lifetime away.

When he came, he came quietly and suddenly. An alteration in the atmosphere told her that she was no longer alone. For a breathless moment she hoped for salvation but in the event it was the return of horror.

He had brought a torch this time and she was blind as the beam flashed onto her face.

“Still here then?” He gave a short grunt of a laugh as he clambered up beside her.

There was no answer for her to make and so she gave none. She had glanced at him once but now turned her face away.

“Well, Pauline.” He sat in the damp with his legs swinging out into nothingness. Tiny scraps of rock and shutters of sand cascaded into the water of a slack tide. She stored the information away: he had come now and so even when the tide was high there was a way onto the promontory. He leaned towards her and murmured as to a friend in the cinema. A private tête à tête in the darkness.

“I popped back to the house. I haven’t found my bag yet. You hid it well; I’ll give you that. Then I got to thinking. Ah yes, I thought, I know what she’s done, my friend Pauline. She’s stashed it away from here.”

She shook her head once.

“Anyway, no matter. I’ve been to see my clients again. Now to say that they are not happy doesn’t even begin to cover it. They are very, very cross. Uh-huh.” His head bounced up and down, a comedy routine, bizarre and terrifying. “Trouble is you see, they are cross with you. Well I’m cross with you as well, aren’t I? The bigger problem though Pauline is that they are not happy with me and that is not what we want. When these people are disturbed it can end badly and one thing I can tell you is that I’m not going to let that happen to me.

“So, what are we going to do?”

Her hopeless monologue murmured through the darkening cave. “I haven’t got anything. I truly haven’t. Don’t you think that if I did I would tell you by now? I don’t know what you are talking about. I found you by the side of the road, I tried to help you. I didn’t take anything. I lied about who I was because I didn’t want my husband to find me.”

“Well now that really does give us a problem doesn’t it? Somebody has my stuff. Now who was there? Oh yes, there was you and… ah you see: there was just you.” He twisted towards her and grabbed her face and she yelped in surprise and pain. “I will give you one last chance. You tell me where the stuff is hidden or you will never get out of this cave. Do you understand?” She nodded mutely, tears streamed down her face.

“Oh yes and in case you were hoping for your landlady to come and look for you I have sent a nice little text telling her how you have just met a friend and won’t be back tonight. So you don’t need to have any concerns about them worrying. Thoughtful sort of chap aren’t I?”

She didn’t see his hand rise but as he swiped backhanded across her face the world turned red and she thought that now it was over. Yet in truth it was simply another beginning.

Chapter 23

He wasn’t beating her because he thought it would elicit information. He must know by now that it wouldn’t work. As he slapped at her face she knew he was beating her because, like George, it was his way to deal with frustration and fear.

Then the words popped out of her mouth almost before she thought them. “I buried it.” Time held for a long moment. His head tipped to one side, his hand stilled in mid-air.

“What? What did you say?”

“I buried it. Your bag, I took it and buried it. I didn’t know how to get rid of the stuff so I buried it until I had worked it out.”

He turned away from her, confusion creased his brow. “Why, would you do this? Why would you let me bring you here? What, are you stupid or what? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know.”

“You better be telling me the truth. Are you lying to me?”

She simply shook her head and casting her eyes downwards, she sighed.

“Where did you bury them?”

“Under a rock on the cliff walk.”

“Where? Which rock?”

“I… I don’t know how to describe it. It’s about half an hour in… there are some fallen rocks. It’s overlooking a bay. I picked a rock that I thought I’d remember and I dug a hole under it.”

Her mind was racing now. She tamped down the thrill of hope that flickered in her gut. She must keep calm.

“You’ll have to take me. You’d better not be lying.” He paced to the cavern entrance. It was too much to hope that he would take her onto the beach while people still played but it was early evening now. Maybe soon he would risk it. Take her while there was still light in the day. She had to bend this tiny straw of possibility her way.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to find it in the dark. I’ll show you tomorrow.”

“What? What did you say? Who the hell do you think you are to start dictating terms? You’ll show me when I say you will! You’ll show me today.”

He climbed back to sit beside her and dragged a bottle of water from his pocket. He lifted it to his lips and drank deeply. She held her breath; surely he would give her a drink. He must know how she needed one. Her desperate eyes watched as the water glugged and bubbled and his throat worked swallowing the cool liquid. Without a glance at her he finished the contents and then dropped the empty plastic bottle into the swirling depths. She felt hate then; more than she had ever felt in her life. More than for George and his brutality and more than even for this man up until now. It lit a fire deep inside that she feared would consume her and tip her over the edge into insanity. She clenched her fist and felt the pain in her fingers as she held back the fury.

Pauline was exhausted. Every bone and muscle ached with a deep throbbing relentlessness. Her eyes were sore, her throat was dry, she wasn’t able to reach her pools and her head pounded. The brute sat beside her silent and calm.

“Who are you?”

“What?”

“Your name, what’s your name?”

“What the hell has that got to do with you?”

“Nothing, sorry nothing. I just thought that… I don’t know your name.”

“You don’t need to know my name. You don’t need to know anything about me. All you need to be thinking about now is where that bloody rock is and what I might do to you if you’re lying to me. So shut up.”

She felt his tension, “Have you got any water?”

“No, No I haven’t got any bloody water, you just saw me finish the water. Now – shut up.”

How far could she safely go? She needed to needle him to the extent that he would act but not so much that he would lash out again. She couldn’t take any more pain.

“Can I sip from that little hollow? That’s what I was doing.”

“Oh bloody hell. Can’t you shut up?” He clambered to his feet. She held her breath as he scrambled to the entrance. “Please, please, please.” Silently pleading she was tight with tension.

“Right, come on. Now listen to me. I can put the gag back in or you can promise me that you won’t shout or scream. Your choice but I’ll tell you this, you try and draw attention to us and you will think that what has happened up to now has been a church picnic. I can think of ways to hurt you that you can’t even begin to imagine. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

He bent and began to untie the rope around her ankles. Every nerve was a red hot needle. There might just be one chance and if there was she must grasp it. She must risk it all now because once he found that she had lied and that there was no bag she was sure that he would not let her live.

Chapter 24

He unwound the rope from her feet and in a flood of pain her arms were pulled from behind her back.

“Christ, oh good Christ.” Blackness hovered at the edges of the world and she bit the inside of a cheek to force herself to focus and cling to consciousness.

He tied the rope again around her wrists and cut off the excess, dropping it to the bottom of the cave. His merciless fingers lifted her head. Tears filled her eyes and as she blinked them away they dribbled across his hand.

“Bloody hell. Bloody snivelling women.” He dashed the moisture on the legs of his jeans.

“Listen to me now, bitch. We are going to walk up the cliff. I’ve left the rope loose so you can balance. See how kind I can be when you co-operate? But if you make any silly moves, if you try to attract attention, if you do anything that annoys me you are going over the edge. Do you understand?”

Pauline sniffed and nodded. Holding the trailing edge he led her forward. Though she was stiff and sore the long miles of hiking had made her strong. Her muscles remembered how to flex and stretch and on quivering legs she staggered towards the fading light at the cave entrance.

He pushed before her and gesturing with a hand behind him to keep her back he moved on to climb the first of the rocks. He turned towards the beach and watched for maybe a minute, perhaps more. When he was satisfied he tugged on the rope. She followed like a tethered beast.

For the first part of the climb she concentrated on finding her footing. As her joints loosened and warmed her movements became more fluid, stronger with each step. He was two paces ahead and confident in his ability to clamber on the wet cliff. She watched, assessed, waited.

She tripped, tugged on the rope and he turned back with a snarl. “Bloody well take care bitch, you’ll have us over!”

“Sorry.” She kept her head down her gaze averted. She tripped again and came down on her knees.”

“Shit! Will you stop?” He turned and stepped back half a pace.

“I’m sorry, I’m stiff and sore. My legs won’t work properly.”

“Stop whining.” With a shake of his head and a sigh he leaned and tugged at the binds around her wrists and then he hooked a hand under her elbow and hoisted her upright. “There, now come on.”

She wobbled on the next step and fell again; this time fully across the rocks. The rope tightened and he spun round in alarm. “Bloody hell! Can’t you be careful?”

She lay full length and began to sob. He slithered towards where she was with her head on the rock and her leg between two great boulders.

“I’m trapped. I don’t think I can move. Please, help me. My leg’s stuck.”

He threw the rope aside in fury and stepped across her.

As he bent to the rocks she closed her eyes and drew up her knees. With all the strength left in her battered body she kicked out at him. Both feet connected with his lower belly and he tumbled back amongst the loose stones at the edge of the promontory.

“Shit!”

Pauline curled forward and threw herself at him. She screamed with the effort and felt him grab at her hands, pawing at her arms in panic. The ground beneath him was unstable and rocks and pebbles cascaded into the swirling water. She shook him off and fell back onto her behind. Drawing up her knees again she planted both feet flat against his chest and with a mighty kick pushed him further over the brink.

“Bitch! Bitch!” He screamed at her, but he was clawing now at the crumbling edges and she kicked again and again beating down on him with her heels and thrusting with all the strength left in her legs. She heard the crack as his nose broke under the onslaught of her pounding feet and then with a rumble of rock and a final screech from him, the verge collapsed and carried him away into the tumbling waves.

He screamed again.

She heard the thud of him bounce against the rocks.

Then there was nothing but the cry of the gulls and the waves breaking on the shore.

She couldn’t move. She simply lay on the rocks for now and just breathed but knew that she would have to look.

On hands and knees she crawled forward. Then, stretched full length again, because she suspected that her legs wouldn’t hold her, she peered over the edge. His body was far below. She couldn’t tell if he was alive. He made no effort to swim and as the water took him towards the rocks she believed that at the very least he was unconscious.

She was still bound but able to push to her feet and clamber to the beach side of the rocks. Far below, walking in the evening light was a group of teens, a dog walker. She yelled to them and held up her arms. The nearest group turned and peered towards her. She lowered her aching arms; they would come now. She tried to shout but all that she could manage was a keening wail and then two of them turned and began to run away. As they did the sounds of their panicked calls floated back to her. They pointed as they went and then the others joined the dash; they ran from her, they ran from the creature in the rocks, they ran from the fabled figure on the headland, the ghoul from the past.

Hysteria took her now and she began to laugh as the tears rolled down her filthy face and the effort and the anguish took the strength from her legs and she flopped to the ground and lowered her head into her hands. If he had been alive surely he was dead by now. She couldn’t help him. She couldn’t help herself, all she could do was to sit in the sunset and cry.

At last the world wheeled away and darkness descended. She was done, there was nothing left and so it was over.