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Authors: Louise Millar

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Thrillers, #Psychological

Accidents Happen (42 page)

BOOK: Accidents Happen
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What would they think if they knew where she was now?

She lifted the phone to her ear, looking through the window at Jago standing with his back to her in the canteen queue, holding his own phone to his ear.

Vaguely, she wondered who he was talking to.

‘Mum. It’s Jack. Don’t be angry with me, but there’s something wrong with that man Jago Martin .. . .’

As Jack’s message continued, Kate sensed a cloud pass over the sun. The temperature dropped.

When Jack’s message finished, she pressed Saskia’s.

And when that message stopped, Kate looked up and realized there was no cloud. The sun was exactly as it had been before.

Jack walked slowly back from the village shop, clutching the bread, newspaper and milk in one hand, and Rosie’s lead in the other. He didn’t normally do bad things and now he was worried. Would Aunt Sass be cross with him that he’d told Mum about that dodgy book before she did?

He strolled under the canopy section of trees with Rosie, not even thinking about the strange feeling he normally had under here of being watched.

So when a very big man stepped out of the bushes, he nearly jumped in the air. The man was wearing a black beanie even though it was a nice day.

With a gasp, Jack stumbled over a twig. He tried to right his footing and race ahead, but Rosie saw the man, and strained her lead in his direction.

‘No, girl,’ Jack said, his chest pounding. He pulled her too hard, too scared to look behind him, and marched forwards.

‘Jack!’

He stopped.

‘Hi! It’s me. Your neighbour, Magnus! From Hubert Street. You recognize me? What on earth are you doing out here?’

With relief, Jack recognized the man from outside his bedroom window. He looked around but the path was still empty. What should he do? He didn’t want to be rude. ‘My grandparents live here.’ He pointed vaguely down the river path.

‘Oh. That’s funny. Hey, nice dog!’ the man said cheerfully, coming over. ‘Jack, listen, this is good I bumped into you – can you maybe help me, please?’ He pointed at the road behind the trees. ‘I’ve broken down in my car back in the lane. I was just walking to the village to find a bus back to Oxford. The phone in my house in Hubert Street is not working and I need to phone my housemates to come and pick me up. Could we ring your mum, and ask her to go next door and knock on my friends’ door? Tell them where I am? Then I won’t have to get the bus home and leave my car here.’

Jack hesitated. Rosie whined, pulling him.

‘Can’t you ring the AA?’ he said.

The man laughed. ‘Good idea, but it costs money. I’m a poor student, you know?’

‘Um. OK,’ Jack said awkwardly.

The man leaned down and patted Rosie. Rosie ignored him, whining and pulling away in the direction of her walk. ‘Your mum was telling me in the garden that you’re an Arsenal fan, huh?’ the man said.

Jack nodded shyly.

‘Me, too! You think we’re going to get the championship next year, huh?’

Jack shrugged. The man stood up.

‘OK. Listen. Do you know your mum’s number?’

Jack nodded.

‘Well, could you tell me, and I’ll ring her. Maybe you could speak to her for me? My phone is back at the car, actually – could you come with me?’

Jack shrugged again, wondering if he should offer his own phone for the man to use. But the man was already walking towards his car.

Jack decided to follow him. He was their neighbour, after all.

Kate sat frozen in the canteen garden, staring at her phone.

Her mind whirled trying to think what possible motives Saskia could have for making this up.

‘Kate?’

She turned to see Calum walking out of the canteen with Jago, who was carrying coffee.

‘Ten minutes in the packing shed,’ Calum called, with upturned thumbs, before walking off.

Jago sat down. ‘That’s interesting.’

‘What?’ she whispered.

‘He was saying that they’re filming a stunt for a Hollywood film here next week.’

Kate kept her eyes fixed on the table, trying to calm the rush of confused thoughts in her head.

It had to be a mistake.

Why would Saskia say this? Because she was bitter? Could she have really made this up? Involved Jack? She wouldn’t dare.

Why on earth would she say Jago was Tony from Essex?

She felt a hand on her arm and looked up to see Jago watching her. ‘Oi, mate. You’re not flaking out on me, are you?’

She kept her eyes down. Shook her head.

‘No,’ she said, trying to sound normal, starting to stand up. She’d ring Saskia right now, that’s what she’d do. ‘I’m, uh, just going to ring my sister-in-law and check Jack’s all right. I want to speak to him, tell him I’m jumping. If anything happened and . . .’

Jago’s hand came out of nowhere and settled on her arm. Firmly.

‘Kate. You’re joking, aren’t you? You’ll just worry him.’

‘No, but I . . .’

Jago shook his head and grabbed the phone out of her hand. ‘I think it’s a really bad idea. Poor lad’s been through enough. You don’t want to make him more anxious, do you? Tell him when you get back down – then he’ll be really proud without having to worry about you.’

Kate shrugged, uneasily looking at her phone in his hand. ‘OK. Well . . .’ She looked around. ‘Actually, I’m just going to get some sugar for my coffee . . .’

Jago jumped up before she could move an inch. Her feeling of disquiet intensified. Why was he not letting her do what she wanted to do? ‘I’ll get it. Stay there. Least I can do after making you jump out of a plane!’ he grinned.

She tried to smile back. As he walked off – still with her phone still in his hand, she noted – she sat rigid.

Saskia. Why would she lie? Why would she tell Jack the book was fake?

Jago’s small leather rucksack lay in front of her.

His phone.

She couldn’t wait. She
had
to ring Saskia.

She glanced into the cafe and saw him rummaging by the till among the salt and pepper. He was still looking at his watch. Kate prayed he wouldn’t see her. Quickly she grabbed it and opened it, looking for his phone and . . .

Something red caught her eye. She blinked, taking a second to compute seeing one of her own possessions in Jago’s bag.

Slowly, she pulled it out.

How the hell did Jago have this?

She heard the tinkle of the cafe door and turned to see him emerge.

Their eyes met.

His eyes fell to the object she held in her hands. The one she kept in her study drawer.

He ran so quickly she couldn’t move. But this time he sat beside her, on her bench, throwing the sugar on the table.

‘I don’t understand,’ she stuttered. ‘Where did you get this?’

She placed her international skydiving licence on the table. Jago said nothing. Just sighed, and reached over for his coffee.

‘Jago,’ Kate whispered. ‘Please tell me. What is this all about?’

‘Hmm?’ He sipped his coffee.

She looked about her, seeing the couples around her, feeling a crack appear in the dream of a future. Wanting to be wrong, but knowing she wasn’t.

‘This?’ She looked at him finally, motioning about the airfield with her hands.

He shrugged. ‘Er, jumping out of an aeroplane, back to life, etc.’

There was a new tone in his voice she hadn’t heard before. Hardened, cynical.

‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘You taking things from my house? And pretending to be a professor of mathematics from Edinburgh. What’s it about, Jago – the money?’

She lifted her eyes and met his. At first she saw the familiar warmth and humour in his blue eyes, as he registered what she knew. Then a cloud of icy mist passed through them. They froze in front of her like an Arctic icefield. She tried to look away but couldn’t. She saw dark crevices where the dark irises were, ice floes form in the intent of his pupils, so cruel and inhospitable that they made her shudder.

As a reflex, she leaned back. Yet Jago came with her, so close to her face that she could smell coffee on his breath. She tried to move away but realized he had placed his hand on her upper arm and gripped it tight.

‘Jago. Let go of my arm.’

‘No. So, what did you say – is it about the money?’ Jago said. She blinked. What was wrong with his voice? He was speaking in a different accent. English. West Country. Stripped of the paternal Scottish warmth, this new voice was infused with the threat of a stranger. ‘You mean, the one-point-eight million pounds?’

Kate froze.

She looked around the garden frantically, but the jumpers were talking in tight-knit groups, lost in their own world of facing their own fears.

‘Get off me,’ she repeated. Yet Jago’s grip just tightened. Tears formed at the back of her eyes as it began to hurt. ‘I said, let me
go
,’ she said, but it came out so weakly it was hardly there at all. She summoned everything she had. ‘Look. If you don’t let go of my fucking arm, I’m going to scream.’

Jago pulled her so close she thought the bone would break in her arm.

‘Uhuh, and if you do, I’ll tell my friend the Viking – whom you might know better as the bloke next door – to throw your son in the fucking river.’

Kate tried to call out ‘No!’ but the word stuck in her throat.

Jack walked beside the man back to his car on the lane. It was a black car.

He opened the door, and Jack glanced around nervously. The man saw him do it.

‘Hey, please, don’t worry, Jack. Your mum told you not to get in cars with strangers. That’s good.’

He waited nervously as the man brought out a phone.

‘What’s your mum’s number?’

Jack told him and watched the man put it in with his big fingers. That was strange. It looked different to Mum’s number.

The man looked up. ‘This is great, Jack. Really helpful.’

From the front, Kate knew that Jago’s hold on her must look like an embrace. A boyfriend hugging his nervous girlfriend before her jump.

‘Why are you talking about Jack?’ she said.

Jago’s phone rang. He checked his watch. ‘And, finally, on cue . . .’ he said. He took it out with his free hand and answered it away from her. He murmured something into it, then turned to her. ‘Someone who wants to talk to you.’

She took it, with shaky fingers.

‘Kate!’ a man’s voice said in a Scandinavian accent.

‘Who is this?’

‘Magnus next door. I have your son, Jack, here by the river. He’s just giving me a hand.’

Kate’s eyes opened wide. She shook her head at Jago.

‘What are you talking . . .?’

‘Mum?’

‘Jack! Where are you?’

His voice was timid. ‘By the river near Granddad’s house. Magnus said, can you go next door and tell his friends to come and pick him up. His car’s broken.’

Jago hissed in her ear. ‘I would advise you strongly to say yes.’

Kate shook her head, and tried to pull away from him. ‘Jack!’ she started to shout.

‘If you don’t want him to end up going for a little swim right now in Granddad’s river, say yes.’

Kate’s heart began to thump so hard in her chest she thought she would vomit it out of her mouth.

Jago mouthed at her. One, two, three . . .

‘Yes, Jack. That’s fine. I’ll do it,’ she said. Jago began to pull the phone away from her face, she gasped, ‘Jack, Jack . . .’

But he was gone.

She sat on the bench, as Jago put the phone back in his pocket, fighting the urge to scream for help and knowing she couldn’t risk it. Desperately, she tried to think straight. They had kidnapped
Jack
. ‘Jesus, is this really about the money? Have it!’ she exclaimed. ‘I never wanted it in the first place. Just let Jack go.’

‘Oh, it’s always the same with you lot,’ Jago said, sounding disappointed. ‘You don’t care because you’ve always had it.’ He turned his voice into a high-pitched whine. ‘When I was a teenager I used to go skiing and jump five-bar gates on my pony.’ She shuddered at hearing her own words. ‘But the thing is, Kate, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had half of it.’

‘What?’ she said, hating Richard and Helen with every part of her for letting Jack go to the shop alone. How long before they realized he was missing?

Jago shrugged. ‘Where do you think the quarter of a million pounds came from that Richard gave Hugo to start your business?’

Kate thought at first she’d misheard him. ‘How could you know that?’ she stammered.

‘How do I know?’ Jago continued. She looked at his mouth, unable to believe these vicious words were coming from those gentle lips. ‘Because I know everything. I know Richard and his partner Charley Heaven, the builder, took every penny my dad had one night in the pub and sold him a piece of shit house on a hill with rotten foundations that fell down. And because of that, our lives fell apart. My father killed my mother, then killed himself in jail. When I was nine.’ He pulled back, as if to enjoy Kate’s horrified expression. ‘And then Richard Parker took the profit and started his business. Fucked off out of Cornwall as soon as he could. That’s how I know, Kate. Richard Parker ruined my fucking life.’

She felt a creeping sense of horror. ‘This is about Richard?’

He loosened his grip, but just a little. ‘Well, to be honest, Kate, it probably should have been Charley. But the fat fuck died of a heart attack on the beach in Portugal, so I’m afraid the finger of fate chose your Richard. So yes, it is about Richard.’

Kate stared, fighting back frightened tears. ‘I’m sorry. But he’s not my Richard. It’s not my fault. Or Jack’s.’

Jago sighed. ‘I know that, Kate. But, the thing is, I don’t care.’

She saw him look over her shoulder and wave. Calum was summoning them.

‘Shall we go?’

‘No,’ Kate exclaimed, but he pulled her up, keeping his arm around her as they walked to the giant open-fronted packing shed. Calum pointed to the jumpsuits and their parachutes.

In shock, Kate did as she was asked, desperately trying to think as she pulled on her overalls and chute, with shaking fingers. Without being asked, Jago did up her chest strap, holding her tight when she pulled away, reviled as he touched her breast. He shuddered suddenly, as if he was experiencing a little thrill. ‘You know, this is a big day for me. I’ve been planning this one for five years.’

BOOK: Accidents Happen
7.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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