One Night (27 page)

He would be back. And there would
be no flowers.

I went into the kitchen and sorted
my knives. There were three that might prove useful. I put one in the bathroom,
one in the bedroom under my pillow, and one in the living room under a cushion
on the couch. I placed the pepper spray-gun on a shelf in the kitchen where I
could pick it up quickly. I made sure that there was a heavy glass ashtray on
the coffee table and a brass Buddha statue my mother had given me two years
before. I placed the bread knife outside the breadbox, casually at an angle. Left
the carving knife under dishes in the sink.

When finished, I stood a moment,
checking. My mind traced out every step of my flat. I choreographed how I would
progress from one weapon to the next – a kind of fluid duck and dance, knowing
exactly how long it would take to get to the door. Then I switched off the
lights and repeated the steps in the dark. As I passed the window, I glanced
out. There was a drizzle of rain catching the streetlights in a spray of light.
The road shone blackly. Windows across the road looked like a row of stage
sets, colour flickering out as people moved about; a normal world, a safe
world. Another world.

Lastly, I fetched the washing cord
I used in the bathroom and wound it into a ball. I dropped it into the umbrella
stand.

I was ready.

Elva Spears was dressed in a satin black dress and wearing diamond earrings. She
noted my expression. ‘Is it too much?’

‘No, you look fine. But won’t you
be cold?’ I was more casually dressed in jeans, a smart shirt, jersey and
jacket. The jacket was purposeful. It had pockets. One large enough to hold the
pepper spray-gun.

‘I see you’ve got your car back.’

‘I’ve had it back a while. But I never
used it much. It’s quicker to get to work by bus. It’s really only for special
occasions.’

‘Or long distances.’

We were both silent, thinking about
the cottage.

‘Here,’ I said. ‘Keep these in your
bag.’

‘The tickets?’

‘Yes. Shannon’s got us seats in the
front row.’

‘My, we are posh.’

I grinned. ‘I don’t think the
ticket sales went too well.’

‘Well, at least it’s a comedy. I
don’t think I could have stood an Agatha Christie type play with police
inspectors and such. Maybe we’ll get a bit of a laugh.’

I glanced at her, and in the
confined light of the car, her dark eyes looked feverish, as though she was
trying to be cheerful but struggling with some inexpressible emotion. For a
brief moment I was reflected there, staring back at myself in twin image, my
eyes like hers, a little too bright.

The play was riotous. Lots of colour and bad language, and some violent bits
where Shannon had to jump out of a window. But we did laugh. In the middle
there was some delay when the footlights went out but this was soon fixed and
the show went on.

To be honest, I hardly paid any
real attention. My mind was all over the place. Todd’s last words leaked across
everything. What if he’d bought a ticket just because he’d guessed I’d be
there? What if he still had contact with old mutual friends and they had told
him that Shannon had passed me a couple of tickets? I kept glancing nervously
around, expecting to see him somewhere in the audience, laughing at my anxiety,
raising a hand in cheery greeting, his eyes black with other intent. My mind
flickered wildly as I planned the route home, quick getaways, the time we
needed to get back.

If Elva noticed my preoccupation,
she didn’t say. Occasionally the audience laughed and I had no idea why. I
tried to concentrate but failed. At the end, Elva said: ‘I didn’t realize
Shannon was such a good actress. She really has a flair for it. Mona always
said she had the potential to go far.’

My heart did a strange little jump
at the mention of Mona.

We went backstage for a short
while, just to give Elva a quick tour behind the scenes. ‘You were good to
come,’ Shannon said, wiping off makeup.

‘Well, you gave us tickets.’

‘No, I mean with Todd around and
everything.’

‘He’s not an issue,’ I said.

‘Has he been bothering you?’

‘No. I think he’s pissed off that
you’ve broken up with him and he’s gone off to nurse his wounds.’

‘Really? You think so?’

‘I’m sure.’

She dipped her long fingers into a
jar of makeup removal cream. ‘Will you come to the last night performance?’

‘Why?’

‘There’ll be a party.’

I laughed. ‘Wouldn’t have expected
anything less.’

‘There’s someone – ’ she stopped.

‘Someone you want me to meet?’

‘Well, no – not actually. Maybe
it’s too soon for that.’ She sank back, a sudden listless look in her eyes.
‘Maybe not for a long time.’

A vision of Dr Mensen rose before
me. ‘You shouldn’t let the experience of one bad man influence the rest of your
social life. Plenty good fish out there.’

When she didn’t answer, I pressed,
‘Isn’t he a good fish?’

She looked at me for an intense
moment, her eyes eloquent with an entrenched bitterness. ‘How would I know?’

I dropped Elva home at around 11.15pm. It was later than I’d planned but Elva
wanted to talk to the cast and pass all sorts of encouraging compliments on
their performance. She was obviously so enjoying being with people Mona’s age, I
let her take her time.

The garages to our block – only ten
of them – were at the back of the building. There was a lonely stretch of
tarred area including spaces for visitors’ parking, floodlit by a single
powerful security light. I angled the nose of the car towards my garage. Beyond
the headlights the darkness looped in shadows. I moved at lightening speed:
out
of car, open doors, back in car, sweep in, jump out, close doors.

Lock doors.

I stood a moment, my back to the
door, utterly alone. The moon-like glow from the light overhead gave everything
an ethereal look, overlaying shapes with the grim mystery of a fantasy set. The
only way up to my flat was via the fire escape stairs on the corner. To get
there was a lonely walk in poor lighting.

I looked around. There was nobody
in sight. A large black tangle of bush lay in a corner spread of garden. I
stared at it intently but there was no sign of movement. If Todd was going to
hide anywhere out here, that would be the place. Keeping a wary eye on that
area, I walked quickly to the stairwell. As I pushed open the glass swing door,
I glanced over my shoulder. Nothing. No one. I began to climb the stairs. Three
flights. The light here was a harsh fluorescence. No matter how quietly I moved
my footsteps echoed on the concrete steps. The stairwell was empty, soulless;
so quiet I felt like the last person on earth, as if the real world, just
around the corner, had slipped to the edge of the galaxy.

As I reached the last curve of the
flight to my floor, I looked down into the well. There was no sound, no
betraying sign of a hand on a railing further down. I edged up slowly, my eyes
now on the flight that led to the fourth floor. I reached the landing. Nobody
behind me, nobody on the flight upward. I stepped into my corridor. It lay
before me like a passage in an abandoned hospital, bleakly lined in angles and
corners, grey light draining colour. My flat looked very far away. I took a
shaky breath and quick-marched towards my door. As I put my key into the lock,
the lift slid open behind me, doors rolling back with a sound like a small gust
of wind.

I had no time to turn. In a second
I was smashed against my own door, my cheek torn open with the first blow. I
had no time to scream. His arm came across my chest, dragging me back, his hand
across my mouth. We devil-jigged sideways while my feet struggled to find
purchase. He half-lifted me, half-dragged. I was aware only of the sound of his
rubber-soled shoes squeaking on the concrete floor. In seconds he had pulled me
away from my door. All my terrified eyes could see were my keys still hanging
in the lock. Then there was a brighter light, a slide of doors. He slammed me
to one side. We were in the small box chamber of the lift. He was looking down
at me, his eyes lightless as though they had vanished leaving only a glimpse of
other-worldly darkness. He snatched at something and there was a whining noise.
The doors ground closed.

During this time, his hand never
left my mouth, his eyes never left mine.

‘You need to learn some manners,’
he said.

Fear slid through me like the onset of a sudden disease, turning my bones to
water. I could hardly move, breathe – just stare at his terrifying form. He was
dressed in black, his face close to mine, the weight of his body pressing me
back. His legs straddled either side of me at the hip, the full broad width of
his torso smothering me. He had me pinned, utterly disadvantaged by surprise,
size and weight. The worst aspect was that I didn’t know what he planned – rape,
a beating, murder? My carefully laid trail of weapons in the flat were useless.
Nobody would hear my screams in the confines of the lift. My eyes rolled wildly
to the floor panel buttons, the emergency stop, the bell…

His hand slipped from my mouth. I tried
to scream but all I managed was a pathetic rasping squawk. But it wouldn’t have
mattered if I’d screamed – the lift muffled nearly all sound. His big hands on
either side of my head, held me steady.

‘Casey,’ he said. He was breathing
fast but his voice sounded as though he was about to give me a lecture. There
was reprimand in the tone, an edge of pleading. ‘I know what you’re trying to
do. I know you like to play dangerous games. I’m okay with that. But don’t you
ever,
ever
, be rude to me again. Do you understand? Because then I will
hurt you. That I promise.’

He bent then, his mouth pressing
down to mine. I couldn’t avoid the warm pressure of his lips, the aching
intensity of his desire, the brutal lust. His message was clear: if I did as I
was told, he would forgive me. There would be mercy if the game was played to
Todd Pennington’s rules. His arrogance triggered something in me – an emotion
stronger than fear. I thought of Dr Mensen: anger makes you strong. It was as
though white-hot spikes of hate pierced me with the relentless force of metal
through blood and bone.

I gave myself up to the kiss.

‘Casey,’ he said, almost tenderly.

He straightened his legs. The
pressure of his body lifted from mine. Still smiling at him, I slid to the
floor. He followed my movement, puzzled. ‘What’s the matter?’

As he bent towards me, I kicked up
with my right leg. My pointy-toe boot caught him on the temple. His head jerked
to one side and I jack-knifed up, my hand in my pocket. As he lunged for me, I
pulled out the pepper spray-gun and squeezed the trigger, aimed for his eyes.
For one frozen moment nothing moved. There was a cloud of moisture in the lift
and Todd’s eyes wide. Then he screamed. His eyes squeezed shut. Instinctively, he
covered his face with both hands.

Using the power of leg muscles
honed during all those floor exercises of my school years, I jumped as high as
I could, brought one leg up, and aimed a beautifully balletic kick straight
under his chin. He went backwards, staggering, trying to open his eyes to see
where I was. I gave him another direct shot of spray and leapt for the button
panel, hit the bell. The noise rang out in the silent building. The doors slid
open.

In the empty corridor it was as
though nothing had happened; the steady cold light beamed, the doors lined in
silent reproof as though my presence and the noisy intrusion of the lift bell
were something like an alien invasion. I ran for the main stairs. Behind me I
heard Todd’s yell, ‘You fucking
bitch!
’

There was a banging noise and the alarm
abruptly switched off. I heard a door open on the next floor. Somewhere above
me, a woman called, ‘Did you get out all right?’

I slowed, turned. There was no sign
of Todd. I could still see my keys hanging in my door. Along the passage I
heard Thelma Clark’s door open, then close. In less than a minute the minor
curiosity died away. I was again alone in the stairwell. The smell of the
pepper spray was rank. A girl of about sixteen put her head around the top of
the stairs and said: ‘My dad says you must stop playing in the lift.’

I laughed. And as I did I realized
I was trembling from head to toe. Perspiration burst out of every pore. I was
ice-cold and shaking like a high wire in a storm. Hysteria was creeping over
me. ‘You go home now,’ I wavered, hanging onto the banisters. ‘You just go
home.’

Her head disappeared. I wondered
what she would tell her father.

‘Casey.’

The voice came from behind me. A warm,
well-modulated voice.

I spun round. All I could see was
an outline, a man, dark hair. Without a second thought, I slammed into the
shape of him. This time I was three stairs up and had the advantage of height. The
broad width of his chest gave easily under the force of my attack. He fell
backwards down a couple of steps and landed sprawled on the landing, his head
against the wall.

Several things connected in my
fuddled mind. Todd had been dressed in black. This man was dressed in blue
jeans and a blue jersey. And his hair wasn’t black but brown, long to his
collar. A neat face, straight-line features ringed by a neat, dark beard, his
skin fine and fragile-looking, white with shock.

My legs seemed to disappear from
under me. I sat down with a thump on the stairs, staring at him as he eased up,
eyes fixing on me.

‘Jeesh!’ he remarked without
umbrage. ‘Nothing seems to change.’

Relief and nightmare rushed at me
as I remembered that night in the forest, the dark and the terror, the
whispering trees.

‘Jake,’ I said.

He got up slowly, dusting himself
off. ‘This a bad time?’