Secrets and Shadows (16 page)

Barry’s face ached from where Pawlek had hit him. And, with his hands and feet tied to the chair, he couldn’t rub it to ease the pain. Ever since he had heard the sound of Pawlek at the front door Barry had struggled to cope with his fear. Now he felt angry, too, and he gave way to his anger, sensing instinctively that it would be
healthier to be angry with Pawlek than to be afraid of him.

He had to fight back, he just had to. But how? Pawlek had left the house, so now was the time to act. But what could he do, when he wasn’t able to move from the chair?
Think, Barry
, he ordered himself. And then it struck him.
He
couldn’t move from the chair, but the
chair itself
was moveable. Barry’s feet were resting on the floor, his ankles tied to the legs of the chair. But supposing he took his weight on the soles of his feet, then launched himself upwards and forward a couple of inches? Could he bunny-hop across the carpeted room? He tried it, and saw Grace looking at him enquiringly. He couldn’t explain to her what he was doing, with both of them gagged. He wasn’t even sure himself. But he
had
moved forward several inches.

If he were to make his way to the window, could he smash it somehow? And then what? He couldn’t count on the sound of one pane being broken alerting the neighbours. And, being gagged, he still couldn’t call out for help. Could he use the jagged glass of a broken window pane to rub against the heavy twine that was binding him? He looked again at the window and his heart sank. The window pane was too high; he would never be able to get his wrist up to the glass. But now that the idea of somehow cutting the twine had arisen he looked around the room with fresh eyes. A knife, a scissors, some kind of sharp object might be available. His hands were tied low down behind him, to the back of the chair, but his fingers were free to grasp an object if he could get near enough to something suitable. But this was the living
room, not the kitchen, and as he looked around he saw no cutlery, no penknife, and no letter opener, nothing that would cut twine.

Barry scanned the room again, then his eyes fixed upon the fireplace. Because it was July a fire hadn’t been lit in months, and down on the tiled fireplace surround there were two miniature glass vases. Red roses from the back garden had been placed in each vase, and Barry’s hopes stirred.

Frantically bunny-hopping the chair, he made his way across the room to the fireplace. He continued until he was beside one of the vases. Sweat had formed on his forehead, but he ignored it, concentrating instead on extending his fingers to try to reach the stem of the small vase. The twine bit into his wrists painfully and he couldn’t quite get his fingers to grasp the rim of the vase. Instead he tried bunny hopping sideways to get a little nearer to his target. The perspiration was now running into his eyes, but he blinked to clear his vision and concentrated on trying to grasp the vase. His fingers brushed against it and again the twine bit into his wrists. Ignoring the pain, he extended his fingers to full stretch and was rewarded by grasping the vase between his thumb and first finger.

He felt a surge of satisfaction and paused briefly for breath, allowing himself to think out his next move. The glass didn’t have a lot of water in it, but he didn’t want Pawlek to see any spillage. He manoeuvred his fingers so that his hand covered the top of the vase, then hopped sideways again around an armchair that had been placed in front of the fireplace. He had now reached an area
of carpet between the armchair and the corner wall that couldn’t be seen easily from most other parts of the room.

The gag was forcing Barry to breathe noisily through his nostrils and he paused again to get his breath. Then he managed to tilt the vase so that the flowers fell out and the water soaked into the carpet where it wouldn’t be seen. He allowed the vase to slip from his fingers, getting it right up against the wall. Once more he bunny-hopped sideways, violently this time, smashing the edge of the chair against the vase and breaking it into pieces.

He felt a thrill, and looking across the room, caught Grace’s eye. She nodded encouragingly, aware now, he reckoned, of what he was up to. Barry nodded back, then pressed his bound wrist down and outwards, fully extending his fingers and touching several pieces of broken glass. He wanted a piece that had a sharp edge, but was still big enough for him to hold firmly with his fingers while he tried to saw through the twine. He felt a couple of pieces but they were too small. Stretching his fingers further out, he came upon another piece about two inches long.
Perfect
.

Grasping the sliver of glass, he tried rubbing it against the thick twine. With his wrists bound it was hard to hold the glass at the right angle for sawing. This was going to take some time, he realised. His instincts were to get started, however long it might take to cut his bonds. But if Pawlek came back and found him over here, he would discover the flowers and the broken vase and the game would be up. No, better to bunny-hop back to where he had been. That way if he hadn’t freed himself by the time Pawlek
returned, the drill teacher probably wouldn’t know what he had been up to, and he could hide the sliver of glass in his hand.

How long would it take to cut through the heavy twine? And how long was Pawlek likely to be gone? He didn’t know, but every second might be precious, and so he wasted no more time wondering, and started back across the room.

G
race breathed in and out deeply, doing her best to stay calm. The sun was starting to sink, and as they drove along she saw glimpses of gorse-covered mountainside bathed in golden light. She was lying beside Barry on the floor in the back of a diesel-smelling van that she presumed Pawlek had stolen. They had been driving for a long time now, and Grace reckoned that they must be in some remote region of the Wicklow mountains. Was their captor taking them to some organised hideaway, or was he just waiting for darkness to fall before disposing of them, somewhere well off the beaten track? She prayed that he wasn’t that ruthless. But if he was, then being frightened wasn’t going to help. No, she told herself, she had to keep her wits about her, and be prepared to fight back if the chance arose.

She had suspected that they had a long journey ahead of them when Mr Pawlek had briefly untied herself and Barry, one at a time, and allowed them to use the toilet before leaving the house in Manor Street. Luckily, Barry had just started trying to fray the thick twine when Pawlek had returned, and the teacher hadn’t noticed anything amiss with his bonds. After the toilet he had immediately retied their hands behind their backs, and Grace had wondered how he planned to transfer them, bound and gagged,
and in broad daylight, to the vehicle parked outside the house.

But Pawlek was smart, and he had taken up the carpet from one of the bedrooms, wrapped Barry in it, and carried it out to the van on his shoulder, before coming back to do the same with Grace. Any passers-by would simply see a man moving a roll of carpet into a van. Meanwhile there was no way of crying out because of the gags. Pawlek had warned Barry that he would shoot Grace in the knee – a really painful wound, he said – if Barry kicked the side of the van or caused any kind of rumpus while Pawlek went back in for her, or indeed at any stage when they started driving. From the cold-blooded way that he said it, Grace believed him. Her stomach had tightened in fear at the threat, but obviously Barry believed it too and he had obeyed Pawlek and not tried to raise the alarm.

There were no windows in the back of the van, so Grace and Barry had been invisible to other motorists as they lay uncomfortably on the carpet that Pawlek had thrown onto the floor in the rear of the vehicle. They could see the back of Pawlek’s head through the opening between the driver’s seat and the interior of the van, but unless he turned around – which he only did from time to time – Pawlek couldn’t see them.

It was the one advantage they had, and Grace’s hopes rested on the fact that Barry had kept the sliver of glass wrapped in his fist, and then managed to cut through the twine binding his wrists. For the last few minutes he had been secretly trying to free her also. It was tricky work, what with the van bouncing on the
mountain road and with Barry having to lie beside her as if his own hands were still tied, in case Pawlek turned around. If both of them had their hands free, they would have the element of surprise on their captor, though how they might use that against an armed adult she wasn’t sure.

The road levelled out somewhat, and with the smoother ride she felt Barry getting a good rhythm going as he tried to saw through her bindings. But the light was slowly starting to fade, and she suspected that Pawlek wouldn’t want to be driving in the dark. Which meant that Barry needed to cut through the twine as soon as possible. Trying to hold her wrists steady, she pushed back against the sliver of glass, desperately wishing for it to cut through her bonds.

Barry saw Pawlek turning around in the driver’s seat and he immediately stopped sawing at Grace’s bonds. He lay with his hands behind him as their captor glanced round to ensure that all was well in the rear of the van. Barry avoided eye-contact with Pawlek, and the teacher turned back to steering the vehicle, presumably satisfied that Grace and Barry were still in his power.

Barry waited a few seconds, then went straight back to working on the twine that secured Grace’s wrists. He wasn’t too far away from sawing right through, and he worked as fast as he could now, knowing that he couldn’t make his move until Grace was free.

He felt the last strands beginning to shred, and he slowed down, not wanting to cut Grace when the glass sheared through the twine. He sawed gently, then suddenly there was no more resistance and he could see the relief in Grace’s eyes as she brought her arms forward and rubbed her sore wrists.

Despite the fact that they were both still gagged, Barry immediately put a finger to his lips, for fear that in her relief Grace might sigh or make some noise that would alert Pawlek. Grace nodded in understanding, and only then did Barry undo the knot behind his head to remove his gag. Grace followed his example, then Barry leaned in close to whisper in her ear. The noise of the engine reverberated through the vehicle, but still he kept his voice as soft as possible. ‘When I make my move, brace yourself, then jump out the back door. OK?’

Grace looked at him, her eyes wide, and he hoped she wasn’t going to panic. Instead, she nodded in agreement.

Barry felt his hands and knees trembling, and he breathed out, trying to keep his nerves under control. He had planned this out over the course of the long drive, and he knew what was required.
Act as soon as possible after freeing Grace and before Pawlek looks around again.

But for maximum impact he wanted to strike while Pawlek was negotiating a bend, and right now the mountain road was running fairly straight. Was it worth the risk of waiting for the perfect moment? Pawlek might not look around again for five minutes. Or he might look in five seconds. And if he saw that Barry and
Grace had freed themselves they would lose the crucial element of surprise.

Barry bit his lip, not sure what to do. Next moment the van slowed slightly as Pawlek braked to take a sharp bend. Barry swallowed hard.
This was his chance.
He willed himself to action, but hesitated a moment, scared of what needed to be done, and what would happen to him if it went wrong.

The van continued to curve around the bend and Barry knew that if he hesitated any longer this opportunity would be gone. Steeling himself, he grabbed the twine that had been used to bind his wrists, then raised himself in the back of the van, spreading his legs wide apart to keep his balance. Suddenly he sprang forward, looping the twine over Pawlek’s head. He pulled hard on the cord, digging his knees into the back of the driver’s seat and hauling the unsuspecting Pawlek backwards by the neck. The teacher cried out in pain and shock. His hands flew up from the steering wheel as he tried to loosen the cord that was biting into his neck. Barry pulled hard on the twine and braced himself as the teacher lost control of the vehicle and the van drove off the road.

Grace was flung against the side wall of the van as it bounced wildly up and down over the uneven mountain terrain. Pawlek had completely lost control of the van, which was slewing sideways but gradually slowing. Grace could see that Pawlek had
forced one hand under the twine, relieving some of the pressure on his neck, and with the other hand he was flailing wildly behind him, trying to strike Barry, who was still hauling on the string. The teacher was pulled back at an awkward angle, however, and Barry had evaded the blows.

Just then the van must have hit a rock, because there was a crashing sound and the vehicle shuddered to a jarring stop. Everyone was thrown forward, and Grace landed against the back of the front passenger seat. Pawlek and Barry were flung forward, too and Barry lost his grip on the twine. Grace saw Pawlek’s forehead bang against the windscreen, then Barry screamed at her.

‘Go, Grace, go!’

They both scuttled to the back door of the van. Barry pulled the release handle, and they tumbled out into the fading light of the summer evening. They were on a remote, sloping mountainside with bogland below them, the water-filled bog holes reflecting the golden rays of the setting sun, and the air sweet and pure. At another time it would have been beautiful, but Grace was too frightened to appreciate the scenery.

She scrambled forward, ahead of Barry, just as Pawlek spilled out of the driver’s door. He looked disoriented from the blow his head had taken against the windscreen, but he reacted instinctively and made a grab for Grace. She screamed and ducked beneath his outstretched arm. Pawlek lost his balance and, desperate to gain any advantage, Grace reached out and pushed him hard.

Pawlek fell heavily down the hillside. Grace could see that he
was heading for one of the bog holes. He grasped desperately at ferns but couldn’t arrest his fall, and he landed with a splash in the squelching brown water of the bog hole. Grace watched in horror as he sank, despite his frantic efforts to pull himself out. Pawlek grasped again at the ferns, but they came away in his hand as he desperately tried to halt his immersion.

Partly relieved, partly horrified, Grace expected to see him go under. When the water was about halfway up his chest, however, he stopped sinking. Obviously gaining heart, Pawlek made a huge effort to free himself, but it soon became clear that the oozing mud and peaty water of the bog hole were holding him fast, and that he wouldn’t be able to gain the purchase needed to pull himself out.

‘Let’s go, Grace!’ said Barry and, realising that Pawlek wasn’t going to drown, Grace turned away. She was just starting the climb back to the road when a shot rang out, striking a rock immediately in front of her.

‘Don’t move, or the next one’s in your back!’

Grace stopped, terrified. And mixed with the terror of being shot was fury at herself.
Why hadn’t she run as soon as she had the chance?!
She could see that Barry was nearer to the road, but he too had stopped.

‘Turn around,’ said Pawlek. ‘Turn around!’

Grace did as she was told and she saw Barry also turning.

‘Come closer, Barry!’

‘No.’

‘Do as I say if you don’t want your friend shot!’ called Pawlek, still up past his waist in water but with the pistol that he had taken from the hidden shoulder holster pointed directly at her.

Grace tried not to flinch, but there was a wild look in Pawlek’s eyes, and she didn’t doubt that he was capable of carrying out the threat.

‘You won’t shoot Grace,’ Barry called back, his voice surprisingly cool.

‘What, you think I can’t kill a child? Thousands of children have died in this war, millions maybe. What’s one more?’

‘If you shoot Grace I’ll be gone before you get off any more shots. I’m pretty much out of pistol range as it is. And if you kill Grace I swear I’ll let you die here. There’s been hardly any traffic on this road – you won’t be rescued. You’ll drown in that bog hole or die of exposure.’

‘Then two people will have died pointlessly. But do as I tell you, and no-one dies. I had no plans to kill you or Grace. I was just going to leave you somewhere remote so I’d be long gone when you raised the alarm.’

Grace really wanted to believe this.

‘There’s a tow-rope in the back of the van,’ said Pawlek. ‘Get it and tie one end to the hazel tree there. Then throw the other end to me so I can haul myself out. Do that and nobody dies.’

Barry said nothing in reply, and Grace saw the impatience in Pawlek’s eyes. ‘Tell your stubborn friend you want to live, Grace!’

Grace considered this. As it was, with Barry pretty much out
of accurate pistol range, he was safe. Could she ask him to risk his life by getting a rope to rescue Pawlek? The spy would still have the gun, and he might break his word and kill both of them. On the other hand, he might
keep
his word, and she really didn’t want to die.

‘Tell him, Grace!’ ordered Pawlek, cocking the pistol. ‘Tell him if you want to live!’

Grace swallowed hard, not knowing what to do.

‘She doesn’t have to,’ said Barry. ‘I’ll get the rope.’