Hard (10 page)

‘And then?’
Mr
Jacobs asked.

I sighed out of frustration and fear. ‘Why do I need to tell you
again? You wrote it all down; it’s right there!’ I pointed at his pad.

‘Please, just one more time.’ He smiled.

I knew what he was up to then.
Re-questioning me
to see if I said the same thing as before.
‘He said the woman was lying,
and I think he meant that she was lying about not knowing what her son had
done. Then he said ‘Tomorrow.
Here.
Right here.’
And I knew
I’d
have to
come back because otherwise he might find me. Then the rest happened and I was
brought up here and I didn’t think I had anything to worry about except you
thinking I was in on something with him and that I’d say I wasn’t and you’d
believe me and then I could go home and —’

‘Take a deep breath, Rebecca.’ He nodded. ‘That’s it, nice and
deep.’

‘But I can’t go home now, can I? Not if
he’s
got someone out there waiting.
That’s
what they do,
isn’t it? Wait? Then follow? Oh, God.
Fucking hell!’
I
blushed. ‘Sorry.’

‘That’s perfectly fine. Okay, I think I’m going to need to bring
the police in on this matter.’ He held up the hand holding the pen so I
didn’t
speak. ‘Just so I can be assured you’re going to be
all right. They’ll know how to handle this.’

Far from being upset by what
he’d
said, I
was relieved. Yes, I wanted the police, needed the police, because if that man
had been telling the truth…
‘Oh, God.
This is
something horrible, isn’t it?’

Mr
Jacobs
grimaced. ‘I’m afraid it might well be, Rebecca.’

The door opened, cutting off my reply, my questions. It seemed to
have been pushed
hard on purpose, in annoyance, and I
jumped. Turning to see the guard coming in, I relaxed my shoulders and gave him
a smile as he walked over and lowered a tray onto the table. I felt awkward,
out of my depth, and scared shitless that my day had turned into such a
nightmare. Yes, after abandoning the nights out and choosing to spend more time
alone
I’d
wished for a bit of excitement in my life,
but this? And now here we were, sandwiches in cardboard containers with
transparent plastic windows, cups of hot tea with steam puffing from them, and two
packets of shortbread biscuits beside them, making everything seem so
normal.

But it
wasn’t
normal, was it, and I knew
things would never be normal again.

Natalie
Dae
also writes as Sarah Masters,
Geraldine O’Hara and Charley
Oweson
. She creates
cover art as Posh Gosh. Her website is
www.emmyellis.com