I logged on as usual as Lia which is from my name Cordelia that no one calls me cos I’m stuck with stupid Dee Dee. So you see I was being careful and not using my name everyone knows me by. And Bex came and said hello and she is SO cool. REALLY nice and like pretty but not TOO much and she told me how she had these friends at school who had been mean and sent her texts saying it would be better if she wasn’t at school at all JUST LIKE happened with me. And she’s been SO nice, saying that it’s not my fault those girls were mean, that we’re better than girls like that and better off being friends with each other. And did I say she was pretty? She’s got brown hair like mine but lighter and her nose and mouth are smaller and much, much nicer but she was complaining her hair gets all frizzed up just like mine does and how it’s all thick and she HATES it and she said she thought looking at my picture that MY hair was nicer than hers so I said I thought HERS was nicer and she was SO pleased and said she was really glad she’d met me.
After we’d chatted for a while I told her what I saw at the party and she says maybe it was not what I thought and explained it in a different way so I feel better about it now. She really understands things and we both like cute kitten pictures and I know she lives MILES outside London so like there is NO chance we could meet up so I KNOW FOR SURE it’s not some paedo like Mum would worry about.
December 2014
That night I lie awake for hours, until the sky outside the window turns from indigo to steel, spreading a grey light through the room. Dan and I spend the early part of the morning in the hotel room, ordering breakfast and making love. I switch on my phone to find several angry voice mails from Jed, plus a series of increasingly concerned texts from Laura, Rose and Martin. I reply to Laura and my siblings, reassuring them I’m fine. I can’t face Jed’s temper though. After a while I fall asleep again, this time properly. I’m out for several hours, waking as Dan shakes my arm. He is dressed, a worried look on his face.
‘I’ve got the room for another night. I didn’t want to wake you, but I didn’t want you to be upset if you woke and I was gone.’
‘I told you, I’m coming with you.’ I swing my legs out of the bed and run my fingers through my hair. ‘How are we getting there?’
‘I hired a car while you were asleep.’
Half an hour later, we’re on our way. The closer we get to Richmond Park, the more anxious I feel and the more tense Dan looks. I ask him about his daughter, hoping it will give him something else to focus on. His voice is full of emotion as he describes her and how open and affectionate she is.
‘I look at Lulu with Gill and Carrie and . . . and . . . they’re great. I love them both and they’re super generous with me. But I realize how, I dunno, cavalier I was back then thinking I could have a child like an accessory or something. I was such a jerk. I remember thinking that I would never want a family of my own, so why not help someone else to have a kid, never thinking what an irresponsible shit I was being to the child herself . . . and with no idea of how much she would matter to me.’
‘Show me some more pictures.’
Dan directs me to a video on his iPad of Lulu at her last birthday party. She is indeed a sweet-looking child. Carrie and Gill look nice too. I gaze at Dan, his whole face lit up as he glances across at the screen. It strikes me that he is a different man from the person I knew all those years ago.
We’re almost at the park now.
‘Are you sure this is what you want to do?’ I ask.
‘Yes,’ Dan goes on. ‘It’s not just the drugs thing being wrong. I kept thinking about Jed’s daughter, Dee Dee, how I’d feel if anyone did that to Lulu . . .’
Richmond Park appears on the left. Dan parks around the corner and shoves his iPad into the glove compartment. We walk to Robin Hood Gate. It is freezing, far colder than yesterday, the cold air made worse by a biting wind. I zip up my jacket, wishing I had a hat with me. I’ve left my handbag alongside the iPad in the glove compartment so that I’m unencumbered. My phone is in the shallow pocket of my jacket in case I need it later but I’m worried it might fall out if I have to run. I couldn’t be worse prepared for what we are doing now though at least I didn’t dress up to meet Laura last night and am still wearing jeans and low-heeled boots. I check the time as we position ourselves across the road from the gate, concealed by a van and a tree. It’s twenty-five to three.
‘Is your phone switched off?’ Dan asks.
I check it then hand him the mobile. ‘Would you keep this in your pocket? I’m worried it might fall out of mine.’
Dan pockets my phone and we stand in the cold watching out for Lish. After half an hour he still hasn’t appeared and a light rain starts to drizzle from the dark clouds above.
‘D’you think we misunderstood the text?’ I ask.
‘No, it’s only five past.’ Dan puts his arm around my shoulders and I lean towards him, lifting my face for a swift kiss. For a moment I experience the weirdest sensation, like I’m spinning through air, slightly out of control but full of joy. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I see Lish approaching the Robin Hood Gate carrying a small holdall in his hand.
I step back, feeling the cold, hard pavement beneath my feet again.
‘Look.’
Dan turns and follows my gaze.
‘What d’you think’s inside the bag?’
‘Drugs or money, I imagine,’ Dan mutters.
An icy chill settles on my chest. ‘That’s good,’ I say, trying to focus on what we need to do next. ‘If it’s drugs, we can film him selling them; if it’s money, maybe he’ll use it to pay for drugs to sell and we can film that. Then we take the film to the police.’
‘Exactly.’ Dan grits his teeth as we watch Lish arrive at the gate. He stops for a moment, glances around, then strides off, into the park. Dan and I look at each other. The drizzle settles like a mist on our faces.
‘Come on.’ Dan puts his arm around my shoulders and we hurry across the road and through the park gates. No one else is about; the only person I can see is Lish himself, up ahead. He is walking briskly along the path. Dan and I are too exposed here; if Lish turned he would see us. Dan has clearly had the same thought. He points to the trees.
‘Let’s go over there.’
We hurry from tree to tree, keeping Lish in our sights as he strides deeper into the park. The place is deserted, the rain still light and fine, the sky dark overhead. My heart pounds as we creep through the trees.
‘This is like The Inn of the Sixth Happiness,’ I whisper, ‘you know, where Ingrid Bergman has to make her way to safety through the woods with a bunch of kids. It’s one of my favourite movies.’
‘I know,’ Dan whispers back. ‘You watched it with your mum and her mum and Rose when you were little. It’s one of your strongest memories of your mother and your gran.’
I glance at him, amazed he has remembered so accurately something I told him ten years ago. ‘I can’t—’
‘Sssh.’ Dan holds up his hand, then points through the trees. Lish has stopped walking. We are right in the heart of the park now, the lake just a few metres away. Lish is standing beside a bench that overlooks the water. After glancing around for a long, heart-stopping moment, he sits down, his bag in his lap.
‘He’s waiting for someone,’ Dan whispers. ‘Waiting to hand over whatever’s in the bag.’
I look around. The park is silent, apart from the wind whistling through the trees and the soft patter of the rain on the leaves. It’s unnerving. Soon it will be dark. I’m so cold now that my whole body is shivering.
I reach for Dan’s hand, as much for warmth as for comfort.
But just as I touch Dan’s fingertips, I am jerked back, a hand over my mouth. I try to turn, but only manage enough movement to see that Dan is being propelled to the ground by a huge guy wearing a thick, padded jacket and red cap. I can’t see his face. Dan falls with a thud onto the damp earth. I give a muffled yell, then kick out. My hands are yanked painfully behind my back.
‘Fucking quiet, please,’ a low, male voice hisses in my ear. There’s a slight accent. My insides contract with fear. My arms are pulled tighter. A scarf is wrapped over my mouth. It smells sour.
‘Fucking walk.’ The voice is all menace.
I stumble forward. Dan is on his feet ahead of me, also gagged with his wrists tied. He is still struggling, trying to turn around, to get to me. I glance through the trees. Lish has vanished from the bench.
Are these men with him? Does he know we are here? Where are we being taken? What are they going to do with us? My heart drums loudly in my chest.
Dan and I are shoved through the woodland. The sky darkens overhead. The rain has stopped but the wind is raw in my eyes. I am trembling all over.
Out of the trees, across a patch of grass where two paths intersect. I look around. Surely someone is here, somebody will see us. But the park is utterly deserted. The two men shove us forward. They say nothing. We are pushed into another patch of woodland. Through more trees. After a minute or so we come to a gents toilets. We are forced inside. It’s ice-cold and smells of stale pee and disinfectant. Across the room, Dan is shoved against the wall, his face pressed against the white tiles. My captor grips my wrist. He is much shorter and slighter than the other man. Like the bigger guy, his face is mostly covered with a cap. I can just make out his fleshy top lip and the stubble on his pale chin. I’m certain he’s the guy who mugged me at the tube station. He’s the same height, the same build as the figure the ticket officer described.
‘You were there, on the platform,’ I gasp. ‘You—’
‘Quiet.’ The man whips a knife from his belt and presses it to my throat. The metal is cold against my skin.
I flinch. Across the room, Dan’s captor is yanking on his arms, pulling them up behind his back.
‘This. Last. Warning.’ My guy speaks in a low, guttural voice. ‘Stay. Away. Or end up like little girl. Understand?’
He means stay away from Lish, from investigating the drug dealing. Or end up like Dee Dee. Fuck. Fuck. My breath is coming in quick, shuddering rasps. Across the room, Dan is still being forced against the wall.
‘Understand?’ the man with me persists. He is only an inch or two taller than I am, but his fingers are like steel on my arm. ‘Understand? Stay. Away.’
The menace in his voice is almost as terrifying as the knife at my throat.
‘Yes,’ I gasp. ‘I understand.’ For a split second I’m certain I’m about to die, that the stained, white-tiled wall in front of me is the last thing on earth that I will ever see. And then I’m spun around. The man lets go of my wrists, then slices through the rope that binds them. He pulls the scarf away from my mouth. I turn. Where is Dan?
He’s being forced out of the door, held between the two men. The man who threatened me turns. ‘Wait here. You don’t try leave. We’ll be back.’
‘Emily!’ Dan yells, the sound muted by his gag.
‘Dan!’ I run to the door. It slams shut in my face. Outside I can hear Dan’s muffled shouts. I pull at the handle. But the door is locked. I hammer against the wood.
‘Dan!’ But my shout echoes off the bare walls into silence.
I stand at the door, the light fading around me as the full horror of the situation settles in my head.
Dan is gone and I am alone.
Trapped.
3 August
Oh, wow, Bex is SO amazing. She really understands my life. I went on UFrenz again today wondering if she’d be there again like she was yesterday and she WAS. And she asked how I felt about what I saw at the party now and I said much better thanks to her and she must have been right about me misunderstanding it and she asked if I’d talked to anyone else about it and I said no because I’d talked to HER. And she did an emoticon of ‘embarrassed face’ all bright red, JUST like I would have done if it had been me and I said I was glad I’d kept quiet because my whole family would be SO upset if I’d said anything but I was glad I’d told her and she said she was glad I had told her too and that it meant we were truly best friends and I said that I couldn’t ask for a better friend and Bex said she felt the same.
December 2014
My legs give way and I sink to the cold, tiled floor. What are those men going to do with Dan? Oh God, why on earth did we come here? I can still hear my captor’s harsh whisper:
‘Wait here. You don’t try leave. We’ll be back.’
I run to the door. It’s firmly locked and at least an inch thick. Bile fills my throat. Is Dan still out there? Have they killed him already? Or are they taking him somewhere else first? I press my ear to the door and listen hard, but the only sound I can hear is the swish of the wind in the trees. I feel for my phone but my jacket pocket is empty. Of course. Dan has my mobile. I gave it to him earlier.
‘Help! Help!’ My shout reverberates off the tiles. It’s hopeless. Desperate. I already know the park is virtually empty and the light is fading fast. Nobody will come. I have to save myself. There is only one small window, above and to the left of the row of sinks. It’s too high for me to see through it but if I could break the glass, I should be able to crawl through.
Even at full stretch, I can only just reach the bottom of the sill. There’s no way I can pull myself up by my fingertips. I test the nearest sink. It seems solid enough. I clamber on top of it. There’s a tiny ledge just above the row of sinks. I lean against it, trying to prevent all my weight being taken by the sink itself. I push at the window. The catch is stuck, the wood swollen. It’s impossible to open; my only option is to break the glass.
‘Shit, shit,’ I mutter to myself. There’s nothing in the room I can use. I jump down. Take off my boot. Up on the sink again I ram the boot against the glass. I almost fall off the sink with the effort but at least the glass cracks. Steadying myself against the wall, legs braced, I pound the glass again. This time it smashes. Loudly. I stop and hold my breath. If the men are just outside they will hear. But they have gone, Dan with them. What are they doing to him? Have they killed him?
I can’t let myself think it.
Using the boot to cover my hand, I push out all the remaining shards of glass. An icy wind whistles straight in, nipping at my face. It is twilight outside, the nearby trees lost in a shadowy gloom.
‘Come on.’ I urge myself closer to the window. My foot slips against the sink. I jump down again. Put my boot back on. Then I climb up a third time. The sink creaks. With a groan it slips an inch down the wall. I lurch upwards, clinging to the window. I’m on one foot now, balancing awkwardly, trying to get my knee over the sill. But the window is too small. The sink creaks again. Last chance. Any second it will collapse. I strain upwards, balancing on the tip of one toe. I reach for the top of the window then turn so my fingers grip its outside edge. In a single movement, I push off from the sink and haul myself up with my arms. A second later the sink collapses with a crash and I am sitting on the window ledge, my arms and upper body outside, my legs from the knees down still inside. I wriggle back, bottom first. The ledge cuts into my fingers but I daren’t loosen my grip. I clamber out so my feet are on the sill, then in one movement I let go and jump down. I land on the earth, knees bent to absorb the impact. My legs jar, my hands are sore and my arms are shaking, but I’m outside, I’m free.
I stand, trying to get my bearings. Which way is the fastest route out of the park? I have no idea, so I retrace my steps towards Robin Hood Gate. Night falls around me as I run, my breath coming in jagged gasps. The wind hisses through the bare branches of the trees. I have to get to a phone and call the police. Panic rises inside me. Suppose I’m not in time? Suppose Dan is already dead? He could be miles away by now.
Wait. I can work out where he is. The thought strikes me with such force I actually stop running for a second. Dan has my phone. Which means I can find him using the same app that Jed used to track me. Unless, that is, his captors find the phone and power it down. I start running again, head down against the wind, pounding across the grass. I rea
ch the gates and hurl myself up and over them. There’s nobody on the street, though a man walking his dog in the distance turns as I thud down onto the pavement. Ignoring him I hurry to Dan’s car. To my relief it’s still there.
I hesitate for a second, but I don’t have a choice. There’s no time to lose.
I wrap my hand in my jacket and punch the glass on the passenger side. The car alarm blares into the air. I reach in and open the glove compartment. Dan’s iPad is wedged inside along with my handbag. I take them both out and set off again. Down the street. Around the corner. I don’t stop until I reach the lights of the Kingston University campus. I take shelter under a tree and, with trembling fingers, turn the iPad on. It takes me a few minutes to piggyback someone’s wi-fi, then another thirty anxious seconds to pull up the app and enter my details.
A map flashes up. Straightaway I can see my phone is on the move. Does that mean Dan is still alive? Or that they’ve killed him but haven’t yet disposed of his body and everything in his pockets? My device is moving fast, they must be travelling by car. I peer more closely. The signal shows that Dan is now in Twickenham. I zoom in and stare at the screen. What road is that? No. I can’t believe it. The signal stops. I switch to satellite view so I can see the individual buildings. My breath catches in my throat. There’s no mistaking that flat modern roof set among all those old houses, with the river at the bottom of the garden.
My phone – and presumably Dan with it – are squarely positioned in the building. I blink, still unable to take it in.