Harkett's Haven (27 page)

‘Everything wi
ll be fine Rachel. You’ll see. I’m going to take care of you.’

He turned his head and nuzzled gently into her br cy ize="+0">Seast and sighed, his hand mov
ing inside her blouse to cup her soft flesh. He unbuttoned her silk shirt and reached behind her to undo her bra, pulling it aside to expose her breast entirely, taking her nipple in his mouth, eyes closed. Rachel let him touch and caress her only to placate him, the bones of a desperate plan to avoid his further attention tenuously forming in her mind. The more time she could buy herself, the more chance she had of working out how to escape, or of someone raising the alarm. Already the weather had dealt her a break, keeping them in Nova Scotia.  Then there was the call from Claire. Rachel had an idea that Tom didn’t know that Claire had a dark madness, that she might not be so easily brushed off. These silken, delicate strands of hope kept her going. His hand stole up her leg and she stopped him before he reached between her legs.

‘You said you wouldn’t force yourself on me Tom.
I .....I just need some more time....’ He removed his hand and swallowed hard, letting her go reluctantly. She stood, buttoned up her blouse.

‘I just need more time Tom....
’.  She moved to the stairs.

‘There are robes in the shower room. There’s probably something
you can make do with in the drawers.’ His tone was strained but resigned.

Two stairs up
she turned to him.

‘I promise I won’t run Tom. Please give me some time and privacy to get myself tidied up.’

He watched her, assessing whether she was telling the truth.

‘Of course.’

He turned from her and continued to stare into the flames of the stove.

The rooms upstairs were q
uaint and cosy. She found the master bedroom and en-suite. Thick, fluffy towels were stacked beside the bath and matching his-n-hers bathrobes. She decided to take a shower, opting for speed, rather than the long soak she yearned for. Checking through the drawers in the bedroom she opted for a man’s white t-shirt which covered her almost to her knees. It would do for the night.

Switching on the shower she set the water pressure on maximum and turned the heat as high as she could stand, the water in some way
distracting her from the desperation and hopelessness she felt.

She kept the shower
short, worried that Tom would want to check on her if she took too long. She dressed and wrapped herself in the bathrobe and towel dried her hair. The bed looked inviting, irresistible and she lay her head down and closed her eyes. For how long she slept she knew not but she was woken with a pounding on the door downstairs. Her heart stuttered and her thoughts raced.

Who could be knocking at
the door of this remote place in this kind of weather?

She stood still and listened, every sinew of her body straining to hear what was happening downstairs. She tiptoed out to the hallway to try to hear
better.

It was a woman’s voice.
Angry. Then Tom’s, raised.

‘
c/foown
You should’ve stayed in town like I told you. I don’t know how you persuaded my driver to bring you out here but as soon as you’re back in town you can tell him he’s fired.’

Rachel started to shiver again, not through cold this time.  The memory of Claire’s fury was imprinted in her memory. She made her way to the top of the stairs, but neither Tom nor Claire
were visible from her vantage point.

‘Just get her.’ Claire’s voice was low and threatening.

Rachel took a step down, her legs carrying her down, her mind screaming not to move from the relative safety of the first floor.

‘Get ou
t Claire. You were useful for a while but you’re getting to be a bloody inconvenience. I got what I wanted and you lost out. Get over it.’ He shouted out his last few words, his anger overspilling.

Rachel kept taking steps down the stairs and five steps from the bottom, Claire spotted her.

‘Well, well. There’s the little bitch who took my world away.’ She spat her words out with such ferocity that Rachel instinctively took a step back away from her. Claire was soaking, her mascara streaked down her face. She moved from foot to foot, agitated and tense.

Tom saw Rachel’s fright and made a grab for Claire’s arm.

‘No you don’t!’ Claire whipped her arm out of his reach and pulled a gun from her coat pocket.

‘Jesus!’ Tom exclaimed and recoiled from her.

A slow, malicious smile spread across Claire’s face.

‘Stand beside the bitch....where I can see you,’ she ordered T
om. He moved reluctantly to Rachel’s side. Rachel could see that he knew that the balance of power had changed and the further he moved from Claire, the less chance he would have of overpowering her. Her legs felt as if they would give way but she was too scared to move or say anything for fear of angering Claire further.

The wind howled in through the open
door, the sky almost black outside.

Tom stood in front of Rachel,
shielding her.

‘Your plan didn’t work out Mr Big Shot,’ she laughed.

‘There was never a plan Claire. You knew that.’ Rachel noticed his tone had become placatory.

‘You said that once you had taken her back,
he’s be mine. They’d only just met, you said Flash in the plan, you said.’

‘Look Claire, I flew you over here to
give you a chance to try to make a go of it...... because you’d been useful to me. I reward people who’ve helped me out. If it didn’t work out, then it’s not Rachel’s fault. You have to move on.’

Claire’s fury exploded
.

‘She took him from me in a single weekend. She....she.....took my life away.’

She sobbed and lowered the gun for a moment.< cor She.../font>

Aghast, Rachel felt Tom tense and then lunge across the room for the weapon.

In slow motion, Rachel saw Claire raise the barrel of the gun and squeeze the trigger as Tom raced across the room.

The sound was deafening
and Rachel heard herself scream.

Tom lay sprawled in front of the woman who had lost
her sanity, his perfect body crumpled on the floor.

A rose of blood
spread on the back of his shirt and a glimpse of his face told Rachel that the shot had been true and deadly.

The look of horror
on Rachel’s face brought a sickening smile to Claire’s face. The wind hurled the rain through the door and for a moment a trick of light fashioned the droplets of rain into a halo around the woman now advancing slowly towards her, an angel of death.

‘Time’s up sweetie.’ She raised the gun and Rachel closed her eyes
and turned her head, cold darkness clutching at her, tendrils of ice seeping into her soul.

A loud crack reverberated through the room followed by a thump. Rachel opened her eyes, mind racing feverishly.

Eric stood in front of her, baseball bat in hand, grim determination etched into his face.

Claire was out cold
on the floor in front of Rachel, gun still clutched in her hand. Eric tapped the gun from her hand with his toe sending it skittering across the wooden floor and under the kitchen unit at the far end of the room. He bent to check her pulse and, satisfied she was alive and breathing, he went to check Tom. He pressed his fingers to his neck and then looked at Rachel and shook his head.

Her vision dimmed and she dropped to the step, struggling to hang onto consciousness.

Eric raced to her side and pulled her into his arms.

‘You’re safe now Rach
el. You’re safe. You’re safe.’ He held her tight to him.

Rachel sobbed in his arms, deep wracking cries of relief. She had started to believe that she would never again see the man she knew she loved, beholde
n instead to a man whose only desire was to own and control her.

Eric held
her tight and whispered to her, ‘I knew what’d happened as soon as I saw Claire. She told me you’d left willingly with him but I knew better. I threw her out..... but followed her. I knew she’d lead me to him and then you. I would never have left you Rachel. Never. No matter what.’ He rocked her in his arms and her sobs diminished, her small frame held tight by his strong arms.

A policeman appeared at the door, gun pointed at them.

Eric stood up slowly, hands up in front of him.

‘Dr Eric
Harkett. I called in the emergency.’

The tidy up was a long, exhausting procedure. Tom Sullivan had been kill
ed outright by Clair cight te’s shot. She was arrested and faced trial for murder and attempted murder.

After questioning, Eric and Rachel were released and they returned to the house at St. Margaret’s Bay.

Rachel slept for twenty four hours solid and then woke, aware of her new-found freedom and the fresh start she had been so desperate for. She shed tears for Tom. She hadn’t loved him and couldn’t forgive him for what he had planned for her but she wouldn’t have wished his life to end as it had done.

That morning, as the sun stre
amed through the window, the sound of the waves rolling gently on to the beach, Eric had joined her in bed. They had made love, an act of healing and affirmation.

Rachel met
Eric’s parents and the mutual respect and enjoyment of each other’s company was obvious from the first handshake. The rift between parents and son was healed and Esme found grandparents she never knew she had.

Rachel and Eric were marr
ied a week later and settled in Nova Scotia in the beautiful house on the beach.

Eric arranged that Jack,
Esme’s little terrier, joined them in their new home, much to Esme’s delight.

And
Esme blossomed and grew, Rachel bringing stability, reliability and love to her life...... and a much wanted little brother.

The house on the beach and the love of the people who lived there was the balm which healed
open wounds and fractured lives. It was the haven they all needed to grow and thrive; Harkett’s Haven.

###END###