Payback Read online

  SHE SUFFERED, NOW YOU WILL TOO

  Who was she? It couldn’t be Hayley; she wouldn’t refer to herself in the third person. Unless this whole mess wasn’t about Hayley at all?

  ‘Excuse me, mam, are you all right?’ A flash of light waved across my face and I looked up to see a police uniform coming towards me.

  ‘Yes, I think so. I mean, I’ve cut my foot, but otherwise I’m okay,’ I said, trying to stand. The female officer slipped a hand under my arm and helped me to my feet. She led me a few steps to Frank’s desk and I sat on the edge.

  ‘I’m Constable Morris. Are you the owner?’ she asked, moving around the office, using her torch for the darker corners. I realised that one of the lights had been smashed too. What a mess.

  ‘Yes, Sophie White.’ My voice was weak, unrecognisable.

  ‘I was just clocking off when I heard the alarm as I was driving past.’

  ‘Sophie?’ A shout from the street carried on the wind before Frank stepped over the threshold into the office. He was wearing pyjama bottoms with a thrown-on jumper, and slippers. His hair standing on end, fresh from his pillow. He only lived in the next street and must have heard the alarm. I’d never been so pleased to see him.

  ‘Frank,’ I wailed and burst into tears as soon as his arms wrapped around me.

  Half an hour later, I was drinking a cup of hot, sweet, tea in my kitchen upstairs whilst having my foot bandaged by a paramedic.

  ‘I’m so sorry, I can’t believe they called you,’ I said, mortified.

  ‘Don’t be silly, it’s no trouble. To be honest, you may need stitches, so make sure you go to the walk-in tomorrow and let them take a look.’ He stood to pack his medical kit.

  I bid the paramedic a goodnight and he left, passing Frank, panting as he emerged from the stairs.

  ‘Right, I’ve swept up and washed the floor with a mop. I think all the glass has gone. The insurers are on their way to board the window, but it’ll be a couple of days before a new pane is sorted.’

  I sighed and rested my head in my hands. I was so tired I wanted to go back to bed and forget this night ever happened. The nausea from the bug had never left, my mouth felt like it was swimming in saliva. I swallowed it down.

  ‘What’s going on, Sophie?’ Frank asked, rubbing his whiskers. In all the years I’d known him, I don’t think I’d ever seen him with stubble. He was clean-shaven every day, but tonight he looked like an old man.

  ‘Ms White, we’ve secured the premises. Would I be able to take a statement from you now?’ The constable arrived and drew back a chair next to Frank.

  I could feel all eyes on me, waiting for me to speak. I shifted in my seat, my bandaged foot propped on a chair opposite; acutely aware I was wearing a flimsy nightdress in front of a stranger and my surrogate father. I pulled my robe together tighter and the officer retrieved a black notepad from her pocket. I could have pleaded ignorance and said I had no idea what the note was about, but I was exhausted by the relentless threats which were now being put into action. Was I even safe in my own home any more? All I wanted was for it all to go away, but I had no idea how to make that happen.

  So, I told Frank and the constable everything, from the first note, to the card, the calls, the flowers, the rat, all of it. I gave them a brief overview of the night at Park Lane and why we were there at the house. I felt my cheeks flush and could barely look at Frank as he sighed and shook his head. I told them I had no idea why we were being targeted after so much time had passed.

  The constable listened intently, scribbling page upon page in her notebook. Her eyes growing larger as I went on. I could see she was trying not to convey how far-fetched it sounded as I weaved the tail of how we were connected. How Gareth’s death, Becca’s arson and now the damage to Whites could all be down to the same culprit. Frank’s frown deepened the longer I spoke and when I’d finished, the constable asked me to hand over all the evidence I’d accumulated. I wrote down the number that had been calling too, but I doubted that it would be traced. It would likely be a pay-as-you-go, what do they call them? A burner phone.

  ‘Who do you think is targeting you?’ the constable asked.

  ‘I thought it was Hayley Keeble, as she was known back then, but now, I really don’t know.’ I drank the remnants of my cold tea, the taste making me gag. Once the statement had been taken, we viewed the CCTV, but whoever it was knew it was there. Dressed in black again and in view for seconds, launching the brick through the window before making their escape.

  By the time the constable left, citing a detective would be in contact with me later that day, it was almost four and dawn didn’t seem so far away. My foot throbbed and it hurt to put pressure on it. Frank gave me some painkillers and helped me upstairs to bed.

  ‘Shall I call your dad or that fella you’ve been seeing?’

  ‘No, thanks, Frank. I’m fine, and don’t you dare tell Dad okay. I’ll tell him about the office tomorrow.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me all this was going on?’ he asked wearily.

  ‘I didn’t want to worry you.’

  ‘Well I am worried! You’re like one of my own, Sophie. I can’t look after you if I don’t know what’s going on.’

  ‘It’s not your job to look after me, Frank,’ I managed, although I was grateful he was.

  ‘I’m glad I didn’t have to worry about my Tommy getting up to antics like that when he was your age.’ Frank shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.

  ‘Rubbish! You just never knew what he got up to,’ I teased.

  ‘I’ll go out through the office and lock you in. I’ll pop by later. Shall I ring the guys and tell them we’re not opening today?’

  ‘Would you? I think it was Lucy and Beth on with me for the Saturday shift. Tell them to enjoy their weekend and I’ll see them bright and early on Monday. Ask Beth to cancel any bookings we had. She’ll have access to the database from home.’

  Frank nodded and leant to kiss the top of my head before disappearing out the door. I listened to the stairs creak as he made his way down.

  The wound on my foot pulsated as I lay awake, waiting for the painkillers to kick in. I was exhausted but at the same time too wired to sleep. Having told the police everything, a weight had been lifted. Although I wasn’t sure why? What could they do? Were they going to find the culprit? I doubted it. They’d already thought they’d solved the case of Becca’s car, which I told the constable had to be a set-up.

  I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. Was I going to end up like Becca, or Robyn, or worse, like Gareth? How far was this person willing to go to get their message across? What did they want? To punish us? To get their pound of flesh? It was like a jigsaw puzzle, but I didn’t have all the pieces to make it fit together. How could I make it stop?

  31

  October 2018

  The painkillers Frank had given me, which I had in the cupboard, pilfered from Mum’s stash when she had her knee operation, knocked me out until midday. I hobbled downstairs and found him in my kitchen, making tea and toast as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

  ‘Have you not been home?’ I joked. Trying to ignore the uncomfortable niggling in the pit of my stomach, that he was in the flat without my knowledge.

  ‘Can’t you tell?’ He rubbed his smooth face.

  I sat at the table and he delivered my brunch. I was surprised to find that I was hungry, the bug finally eradicated. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to startle you. Only you haven’t been answering your phone and I was getting worried. The electrician came to install another light, he rang when he arrived and I had to let him in, so I thought I’d pop up and check on you.’

  ‘Frank it’s Saturday, I could have done that! Crikey, go home to Diane, would you.’

  ‘He’s almost finished, I’ll lock up and see you Monday, or do you need me to run you to the walk-in centre?’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ I said, raising my eyebrows and enunciating each wo
rd. He was as bad as a mother hen.

  ‘I’ve just fitted another outside light, this one’s a sensor. I had one tucked away in the garage as a spare at home. Saw yours was smashed. You’re not having much luck with lights, are you? When did that happen?’

  ‘God, about three weeks ago. I kept meaning to get it replaced.’

  ‘Well, it’s all done now, love.’ Frank winked, his eyes twinkling.

  ‘Honestly, I just don’t know what I’m going to do when you retire.’ I felt my bottom lip quiver and Frank’s ears tinged pink as he turned to leave. Stomach tightening, I found my toast hard to swallow. ‘Thanks, Frank, for everything. I really appreciate it.’ Choking the words out as my throat constricted.

  ‘Take it easy pet.’ Hot tears pricked my eyes, but I was grateful Frank had descended the stairs before he’d noticed. I pushed my palms to my eyes and muttered.

  ‘Hold it together Sophie.’

  ‘Who are you talking to?’ A cheery-looking James popped his head around the door. Frank must have let him in. The expression changed as soon as he saw the state of my foot and the tears in my eyes. I must have looked a mess, but I didn’t care. ‘Holy shit, what happened to you?

  ‘Have you not seen the office?’ I retorted.

  ‘No, I came around the back?’

  I told James about the brick but left out the note. He immediately dived into conspiracy theories based around Hayley and I listened half-heartedly whilst I ate. Any other day, I would have offered to make him tea or something to eat, but I was tired, irritable and not in the mood to play hostess to his lies. My foot throbbed like it had its own pulse.

  As James spoke, my mind drifted, consumed. He’d been to see Hayley’s mum. He knew everything I knew, maybe more as he was friends with Gareth. How much hadn’t he told me? What kind of game was he playing?

  ‘Well, it’s in the hands of the police now, I’ve told them everything,’ I interrupted.

  James’s eyes widened at that. ‘What did they say?’

  ‘They’re going to look into it. Becca’s car and now the agency window, whoever it is, it’s not just cards any more. They’re escalating into acts of violence.’

  James frowned, tilting his head to the side. He didn’t know about Becca’s car, or was pretending he didn’t. I explained about the arson attack and Robyn’s subsequent arrest. He puffed air out of his cheeks and put his hands behind his head. ‘Jesus Christ.’

  ‘Look, James, I’m sorry but I’m tired, I’m in a shitty mood and I’ve got to go to the walk-in centre. Can we do this another time?’ I said, concentrating on my toast, not bothering to see if my words had caused any offence. As far as I was concerned, he was a liar, for whatever the reason. What had started between us was not going any further.

  ‘Well, I’ll take you, go get dressed and I’ll run you there now,’ he replied, unfazed.

  I hesitated, not wanting to spend any more time with him than I had to, but now I’d relieved Frank, I’d have to call a cab. The cut on my foot twinged on cue; something told me I’d be getting stitches today.

  ‘Make yourself a tea, I might be a while,’ I sulked, biting into my toast and throwing the remnants back onto the plate.

  James filled the kettle and I hobbled upstairs to have a quick wash at the sink and get dressed. The only footwear I could get over my bandage were soft, UGG-style boots. I knew I looked a mess with unwashed hair and jogging bottoms, but it would have to do. I’d fit in at the walk-in centre – it was usually full of pissheads and reprobates looking to get some shelter from the weather. It was another reason I came round to the idea of James accompanying me.

  Before we left, I wanted to see the damage in daylight. Hopping through into the agency from the kitchenette, it looked the same, although I could see my office was in total darkness due to an enormous board where the glass should have been. Frank had done a fantastic job clearing up and I made a mental note to buy him something nice to say thank you.

  James enquired about the CCTV, but I told him it was with the police. It wasn’t a lie exactly, but I didn’t tell him there was nothing useable on there. I was intrigued in case he gave anything away. Whether he would be nervous now the police were on the case. What was it my mum used to say? ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer’.

  The walk-in centre was full, as it always was. We managed to find two seats next to each other at the far end. However we had to sit next to someone who smelt like he’d washed his clothes in ammonia. It did nothing for my stomach, which felt like it was hanging in the balance.

  I was seen by the triage nurse within twenty minutes, who confirmed I would need either stitches or glue. I had to go back to the waiting room until a doctor could see me to confirm and close the wound properly. In the space of time between seeing the triage and the doctor, James and I witnessed one fight, a couple having a drunken lovers’ tiff and had listened to a baby screaming on loop for over an hour.

  ‘God, it’s like EastEnders in here,’ James whispered. I couldn’t help but giggle, he was right.

  ‘A cross-section of society, shall we say.’ I laughed, trying to sound as pompous as I could.

  ‘Sophie White,’ called a nurse from the door.

  James helped me stand and I hobbled down the corridor and into a side room.

  The doctor was a kindly West Indian gentleman, who assessed my foot and thankfully said glue should do it. While he typed up notes, the nurse who had called me in cleaned the wound again and glued it closed, placing surgical strips over the top. I was given a prescription for antibiotics and painkillers as well as some crutches. My initial excitement at being handed them soon faded when I realised they were difficult to manoeuvre.

  ‘I think you need a licence for those,’ James said as I nearly tripped him over.

  ‘They’ve got a mind of their own,’ I giggled, surprised to find my terrible mood had been lifted by a two-hour wait, some glue and a spot of people watching.

  James stopped at the chemist on the way home and left me in the car to get my prescription filled. I sat, checking emails on my phone and flicking through Facebook, but there was nothing new, until I came to Gareth’s page. Someone, with the name Anonymous Amy, had a post on Gareth’s wall, which was provoking his friends and mourners. It read: Are you sure you knew him at all? It had caused a tirade of angry faces.

  My phone buzzed. A text came through from a number I didn’t recognise:

  WHAT IS HE HIDING?

  My mouth dried up and I found it hard to swallow. Who’s ‘he’? Did the text mean James? I spun around, but the parade of shops was empty. Someone must be watching me, but only a mother and daughter had come past since we parked. The car park was empty apart from one other car. I whipped my head around, trying to look out of each window, my view clouded by steam. If I didn’t have a bandaged foot, I would have jumped out of the car and searched, but that wasn’t an option. I was a sitting duck.

  A loud tap on the window made me scream, but it was James clutching a paper bag from the pharmacy, signalling to me to unlock the door. I must have done it by accident.

  I thrust my phone into my pocket and unlocked the car. James climbed in, wiping the window with his sleeve.

  ‘What you been doing in here? Party for one?’ he said, passing me the bag and strapping himself in.

  ‘You know I’m full of hot air,’ I quipped, unable to stop my eyes from darting around, still searching for the mystery texter.

  James started the engine and lowered the windows to clear the steam. I pulled on my seatbelt and sat, ready to go, but we didn’t move. James was staring straight ahead, looking at nothing in particular out of the windscreen.

  ‘James, what is it?’

  ‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ he said, turning the engine off and swivelling his whole body to face me.

  32

  October 2018

  ‘What?’ I tried to keep the tremor out of my voice.

  James stared at me, eyes piercing as he d
ecided whether to impart the information. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep the warmth in. Acutely aware I was unable to run even if I wanted to.

  ‘I don’t think it is Hayley behind this. I’ve searched, but I can’t find any record or trace of her after 1997. If I’m honest, I think there’s a chance she may not be alive.’ He lowered his eyes as he delivered the news, a poor attempt at a mark of respect. I didn’t admit I’d been thinking the same thing. People don’t disappear off the face of the earth. A flash of annoyance struck, and I tried to bite my tongue, but I couldn’t.

  ‘You went to see her parents,’ I snapped, releasing the anger that had been building.

  ‘I did, that’s what I was going to tell you, but I’m guessing now that you visited too?’ James’s face crumpled, resigned now he knew it was game over. His secret was out, but I still didn’t know why he’d visited?

  The car was beginning to steam up again. We sat in silence for a minute, the vein in my head and foot throbbing simultaneously.

  I broke the silence first, the words escaping from my lips with no control. ‘Who’s the photo of, in your wallet?’

  He bit his lip and stared out of the window so I couldn’t see his face. ‘You’ve been going through my wallet?’

  ‘It fell out when I moved it,’ I lied unapologetically.

  ‘Helen was my girlfriend in college. I didn’t realise that photo was still in there.’

  ‘She looks like Hayley. I mean, how Hayley did when we were young.’

  His face turned back, a flash of anger in his eyes. ‘No, she doesn’t.’ He was so abrupt, I was about to argue, but a text message came through on James’s phone, the annoying chime interrupting us. He glanced at it and scowled, letting the phone drop into his lap.