‘What will we do if the girls are found dead?’ David said in little more than a whisper.
‘I don’t know, mate,’ Scott said, shaking his head. ‘It’s all been like a weird dream so far. Unreal, sort of removed from me. But the police will have informed Dale’s parents today, and they are bound to come down here tomorrow. That will make it very real and I can hardly bear the thought of having to face them.’
David saw Scott’s eyes glinting with unshed tears and he reached out and put a companionable hand on his shoulder. ‘Yeah, that’s going to be tough,’ he agreed.
‘I wonder what the girls are doing now,’ Scott said. ‘Will Lotte have remembered stuff now that more bad shit is happening?’
Chapter Twelve
As the boys were eating in the Indian restaurant, Lotte was lying on the bed next to Dale, relieved that her friend had finally stopped freaking out and fallen asleep.
Although Dale had been calm enough when they were first shoved into the basement, she had woken this morning like a woman possessed. It didn’t help that her eye was closed up and looked terrible, and she couldn’t seem to accept that there would be no morning cup of tea or breakfast. A little later she began raging that she hadn’t been able to sleep for hunger, and how was she going to be able to stand that hunger growing ever greater as the day progressed?
Lotte had tried to convince her that raging against their imprisonment wouldn’t help her. There was no one upstairs to hear, and the neighbours were too far away. But Dale still dragged the wardrobe under the tiny window, put the stool on top of it, then climbed up to try to reach the window which was too small to get out of.
‘I was in here for months,’ Lotte told her again and again. ‘There isn’t a spot on the wall or a stain on the carpet I don’t know. Listen to me! The thing to do is rest up and plan what we’re going to do when they come for us. Rushing about will only deplete your strength.’
Oddly enough, the only way Lotte could get Dale to lie down on the bed beside her and rest was by telling her more about what Fern and Howard had done to her. But it was so hard to tell, for looking back it was like a surreal art house film where the only explanation for the bizarre events is that the leading characters were insane.
And Lotte thought she must have been insane too because she hadn’t recognized Fern and Howard’s madness right from the start. Surely any normal person would’ve run a mile from a couple who insisted on kneeling down to pray on a cruise ship? And if the couple really were that holy, why weren’t they giving some of their wealth to the poor and sick, instead of frittering it away on hedonistic pleasures?
But now Dale had fallen asleep the silence was total. While sleeping in the bedroom upstairs Lotte had heard owls at night and the occasional scurry of small creatures pushing their way through the hedges. By day there was birdsong, the sound of lorries going down the road, horses’ hooves and dogs barking. Down here there was no sound. Even when it rained she couldn’t hear it.
She had told Dale the bare bones of what had happened to her after she tried to escape, and no doubt in the days ahead she’d give her more detail, because as she’d been telling it, more and more other memories kept coming back.
It would be easy to dissolve into tears now, to feel again the terror and helplessness she’d battled with before in this room. But she wasn’t going to give way to fear again. She was going to go calmly over what happened before, the mistakes she made and the ones the Ramsdens made, and prepare for when the men came back for her and Dale.
Looking back on her previous incarceration in this basement room, Lotte was fairly certain they had been drugging her most of the time. Although she was terrified the first couple of days when they were starving her, her mind had been very sharp. But it didn’t remain that way, not after she began to have regular meals; in fact she could remember spending a great deal of time lying on the bed in a kind of trance.
But whether she was drugged or not, Lotte was very aware that once Fern had what she considered to be Lotte’s agreement, she wasted no time in her plans for the baby. She drew up an ovulation chart and took Lotte’s temperature every morning before she allowed her a cup of tea, to discover when she was at her most fertile.
On the sixth day of her captivity Fern beamed at her. ‘Tonight’s the night,’ she said as she slid her thermometer back into its case. ‘You’d better do it in our room as the bed is bigger.’
Until that moment Lotte had thought Fern was going to use the turkey baster method of impregnation, but suddenly she realized this was not so.
‘Oh no.’ She backed away from Fern in shock. ‘We’re not doing it like that!’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Fern snapped. ‘It’s a far more efficient way, the sperm is kept at the right temperature.’
‘I can’t bear the idea of Howard doing that to me,’ Lotte burst out. ‘And how could you stand it either? He’s your husband, for God’s sake!’
‘I want his child,’ Fern said, and once again she had that scary glint in her eyes. ‘So I can bear it. And don’t you even think of making it difficult for him, he’s finding it hard enough coming to terms with it as it is.’
Lotte remembered observing that day that Howard was a nothing man. He was reasonably attractive, with his slender build and fine features, but he had no personality. He never voiced an opinion about anything, and he wasn’t a conversationalist either. Even when he was alone with Fern it was probably mainly she who did the talking. He gave nothing of himself away, his likes and dislikes, or his taste in music, books or sport.
Therefore it was hard to imagine him being passionate about anything, certainly not in a carnal way or about being a father. Lotte thought he had given up his free will to his wife long ago, and just did what she told him. Yet he seemed perfectly content that way. All the time they were in London together she never heard them have a cross word.
They had dinner at seven-thirty that evening, and Fern plied Lotte with wine. ‘It will help you relax,’ she said by way of an explanation and gave her a small blue tablet too.
By the time Lotte had taken a bath she felt decidedly woozy, in fact she staggered as she came out of the bathroom and had to steady herself against the wall. Fern was standing at the bedroom door and came forward to take her arm. ‘Into bed with you,’ she said in a very businesslike manner. ‘Howard will be up in a minute.’
Lotte’s last clear thought before Howard appeared in the doorway, wearing only a pair of pale blue boxer shorts, was that her best chance of escape might be immediately after the sex. Howard wouldn’t be on his guard, he’d left his trousers somewhere downstairs, and the front-door key was probably in his pocket. Fern was likely to fuss round him, and if Lotte said she was going to her own bed, she doubted they’d stop her.
It was the weirdest thing Lotte had ever experienced as Howard stood looking down at her. The pill and the wine made her feel she was floating, but she was aware of Fern sitting beside her on the bed, and it looked as if she intended to stay there.
‘Come on, honey,’ Fern said to Howard, patting the bed beside Lotte. ‘There’s nothing to be scared of.’
Her remark made Lotte feel as if they were three children playing at being grown-ups. That feeling grew even stronger as Howard finally lay down beside her and put his arm over her as if to cuddle her.
Fern pulled the bedcovers off Lotte, then rolled her cotton nightdress up to expose her body. Lotte immediately closed her eyes tightly as she didn’t want to see Howard looking at her, or what he looked like without his shorts. She was too dopey now to care much what was going to be done to her; all she wanted was for it to be over quickly so she could go to sleep.
He tentatively cupped her breast in his hand, and then stroked her belly, but at least he was gentle and he smelled of lavender soap. His hand moved down to her pubic hair and he began to probe into her with his finger, and it was only then that she felt he was getting a bit excited as his breath was coming faster.
She
felt nothing, neither disgust nor pleasure. He muttered something about her being dry, and almost instantaneously she felt him put some kind of cool jelly on her and his fingers slid inside her more easily.
His heavy breathing and wondering where Fern was made her open her eyes just a crack. Howard was lying on his side facing her, but to Lotte’s shock Fern was right up against his back and she had her arm around his middle, her hand caressing his erect penis as she kissed his shoulders.
‘Put it in her now,’ she ordered him.
Lotte felt as if she was watching a blue movie, for although Howard had parted her legs and knelt between them to push himself into her, Fern appeared to be orchestrating everything. She was undulating against her husband’s back in simulated intercourse, and although Lotte couldn’t and didn’t want to see, she was fairly certain the woman was masturbating at the same time.
They were both murmuring swear words, their excitement rising to fever pitch. Howard was trying to kiss Lotte now, but she turned her face away into the pillow and tried to block out the way his fingers were digging into her buttocks, forcing her to move with him. She willed it to be over quickly and that the couple’s passion would make them sleep so soundly she could escape.
It seemed to go on for ever, his fingers kneading her buttocks, his breath hot on her shoulder, and the continual pounding into her. But even more unnerving was the knowledge that Fern was getting some depraved kick from it all, for she could hear her moaning and murmuring things Lotte didn’t want to hear.
Suddenly Howard yelled out that he was coming, and Fern thrust her face closer to him so she could kiss him at the moment he ejaculated.
That was the worst part of all, for Lotte was lying there with Howard still inside her, and he was kissing his wife as if he thought he was in her. She had never felt so used and shamed and that was the moment when she truly began to hate them.
‘I’ll go to my bed now,’ she said, wriggling away from Howard, who was still kissing Fern passionately.
‘No, you must lie still for a while,’ Fern broke off to say. But Howard was making love to Fern, Lotte could hear the sound of his fingers penetrating her and his lips on her body, and it disgusted her so much she felt she might retch.
It grew more obscene, for although the curtains had been pulled it was still light outside, and enough light was coming through the curtains for Lotte to see that Howard had moved down the bed to satisfy Fern with his tongue. She could hear the slurping sound, feel the bed moving with them, and Fern’s heavy breathing and moaning.
Lotte couldn’t stand another minute of it and felt too that they wouldn’t notice her leave the bed while they were glued to each other. She moved inch by inch to the edge of the bed, then slid her legs over it, and dropping to her knees so they wouldn’t see her, she made for the door.
She was holding her breath as she opened it, afraid that the light would come flooding in and surely alert them, but they didn’t appear to notice as she slipped through it.
There was no time to dress, not even to find shoes. They could leap up at any minute and she only had to run to a neighbour for assistance. She was aware of sperm running down her legs as she crept silently down the stairs, and that sickened her even more.
She had expected to find Howard’s trousers in the sitting room, but they weren’t there, nor in the kitchen or his study. Fern appearing to be reaching a climax for she was practically shouting now, and Lotte guessed that once it was over for her she would immediately realize her prisoner was trying to escape. There just wasn’t time to find those keys now.
The one chance she had of escape was to go and get into the bed in her old room. If she pretended to be fast asleep when they found where she was, they might leave her there if they were feeling mellow. Later, when they’d gone back to their bed and were in a deep sleep, she would climb out of the bedroom window on to the roof of the kitchen extension. From there she could more or less jump to the grass, climb over the side gate and then creep down the drive to the road.
She hadn’t been in her bed that long, perhaps only five or ten minutes, when Fern came in. Lotte sensed her coming right up to her and peering closely at her, but she must have been convinced she really was sleeping because she went back to bed with Howard.
Howard went downstairs to make them hot drinks, and Lotte felt so sleepy she was in danger of dropping off.
‘Leave the door open just in case she does wake up and thinks of trying to get out,’ Fern said as Howard came back upstairs with their drinks. ‘I know we’ve got all the keys up here with us, but I’d rather head her off before that.’
Lotte waited and waited, forcing herself to stay awake. They had turned off the bedside light but they were talking to each other very quietly for a long time.
Finally there was silence, but still she had to wait until she was absolutely certain they were asleep. Finally she heard a faint snoring, and a deeper one too. She crept out of bed, pulled on a pair of pyjamas which were the only clothes left in the room, and closing the bedroom door very softly, opened the window.
The roof of the kitchen extension was further down than she had imagined, and the window very narrow and awkward, but her desperation to escape cancelled out her fear. First she threw down a blanket to protect herself from the barbed wire on the top of the side gate. Then, getting out on to the window sill, she turned over on to her stomach and gradually wriggled herself backwards and downwards while holding on to the window frame, her toes stretching out for the roof beneath. But her fingers couldn’t hold her weight with such a small ledge to hold on to, and she fell. It wasn’t far, no more than two feet, but it hurt her bare feet and made a loud clatter.
It was harder still to climb from the kitchen roof to the ground. She was afraid the guttering would snap off if she pulled on it; even the down pipe seemed to be coming loose from the wall as she attempted to use that to climb down. But the light hadn’t come on in the bedroom above, so they obviously hadn’t heard her. Somehow she managed to get over the guttering, and hanging on for grim death with hands and knees on the down pipe, she gradually managed to let her hands slide down it, then jumped the last few feet.
Creeping cautiously across the patio area outside the kitchen, with the blanket in her hands, she made for the side gate. It was about six foot six high, with a frame above the gate which had the barbed wire nailed on to it.
Lotte tossed the blanket up over the barbed wire and climbed the gate. It was easy enough as in the hedge to the side of it were many places where she could put her feet. She was over and down the other side in just a minute; all there was left now to contend with was the gravel drive.
She had never been good at walking barefoot on stones and she crept forward along the side of the house wincing at every step. But however painful it was, it was so good to be free, and she planned to run first to the phone box and call the police, then hide in someone’s front garden until they arrived.
But as she got to the end of the side wall of the house Fern stepped out in front of her, quickly followed by Howard.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Fern asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
They were both in dressing gowns and slippers. But they had the studied calmness of a couple who had taken their time to come and stop her. They’d probably heard her getting out of the window, but let her strain herself trying to get away.
It was a crushing defeat. Lotte had prepared herself for the possibility they might hear her on the gravel and come out of the house after her, but she hadn’t expected them to be lying in wait for her. And there was no chance of being able to push past them for they stood blocking her path and they were poised to restrain her forcibly.
Lotte screamed then, as loud and for as long as she could. Howard caught hold of her and slapped her face to shut her up, but she fought him and kept screaming until he bundled her inside the door.
‘That’s a fine way to thank us for our kindness to you,’ Fern said once the
door was closed and locked. ‘Trying to slip out of here like a thief in the night!’
Lotte shouted abuse at them then. She no longer cared if they hit her, starved her or even tortured her. It all came out, how they’d fooled her into thinking they cared about her, that they were cruel, calculating and depraved people. But she saw how mad they really were then for they just looked at her in wide-eyed astonishment, not understanding why she saw them in such a way.
‘You hide behind all that religious claptrap,’ she screamed at them. ‘You’ve been selling babies! That’s the lowest, worst kind of crime imaginable. And now you’re forcing me to have one for you. But even if that perverted act does make me pregnant, you’ll never get the baby, I’ll make sure of that. I’d sooner see it go into care than be brought up by a couple of maniacs like you.’
Fern slapped her around the face then, knocking her back against the wall in the hall. ‘You ungrateful little bitch,’ she yelled, and yanked at Lotte’s hair, making her scream again with pain. ‘I saved you from that man in Ushuaia and nursed you back to health.’
Howard manhandled Lotte back into the basement room, pushing her down the stairs. ‘We’re disappointed in you,’ he said before he locked the door on her. ‘Now you’ve lost all your privileges.’
Looking back on that night when she was incandescent with rage at what Howard and Fern had done to her, Lotte now knew that it was impossible to stay at that level of anger for very long, especially when food was withheld. She held out for three days, spitting at them, shouting abuse and hurling things when they came in, but hunger, fear and loneliness finally got to her, and she caved in.
It seemed incredible to her now, but when Fern said she would ‘forgive’ her, Lotte actually began to believe she was the one at fault. She didn’t even lash out when Fern said they had to try again that night for the baby before her fertile period passed.