Stolen (2 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Muddiman

Tags: #child, #kidnap, #stolen, #northern, #crime

BOOK: Stolen
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‘I’m just saying, I think she should come here. You’ll get lost,’ Paul said.

‘I will not,’ Abby said.

‘I spent half an hour on the phone to you last time trying to get you out of
Deliverance
country.’

‘I’ll be fine.’

‘Okay,’ Paul sighed. ‘Have it your way.’

Abby knew that his opposition to the visit had less to do with the inconvenience of the drive out there and more to do with his feelings about Jen. Some people thought it was odd Abby was such good friends with her husband’s ex but Abby found it amusing more than anything else. The idea of them ever having been together was so hard to believe that any jealousy she felt would be ridiculous. 

‘Anyway, I’d better get back to it,’ he said. ‘There’s a huge delivery here to sort through.’

‘Okay.’

‘What time will you be back? If you don’t get lost.’

Abby smiled. ‘I don’t know. About five, six maybe.’

‘Okay, see you then. Give Beth a kiss for me.’

She disconnected and bent down to Beth, kissing the top of her head. The man with the crutches came out and the nurse stood with a clipboard, scrolling down her list. Beth was staring behind her and Abby turned to see if the woman was still making faces at her. The woman caught Abby’s eye but Abby turned quickly back around. She didn’t want to get talking to her. She could sense that broody look on the woman’s face and she really couldn’t be bothered with her ‘let’s compare baby stories’. She prayed that one of them would be called in next.

‘Helen Deal, please,’ the short blonde nurse called. The woman stood up and walked towards the smiling nurse.

Abby got Beth settled into her car seat and sat staring out at the people rushing about the supermarket car park. She wondered how many of them were actually happy with their lives. Is anyone? She’d once read something like you can have
anything
you want but you can’t have
everything
you want. She’d thought that pretty wise at the time. She could do anything but she couldn’t do everything. Not at the same time. Not if she wanted things to end well. She knew that now, that something will always break. Hopefully she’d learned in time, before anything or anyone was hurt too much. Things weren’t perfect, she wasn’t totally happy, but she was content. And as long as she could keep juggling everything it’d be fine. Fine was enough.

She pulled out her phone and dialled, watching Beth in the mirror. After a few rings the answerphone cut in.

‘This is Simon Abbott. I’m away in New Zealand until the 28th of September. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.’

Abby hung up. She thought he was leaving tomorrow. Not that it mattered. What would she say to him anyway? She felt that horrible weight in her gut again. A feeling she couldn’t even remember being without. Why was she risking everything? Why didn’t she stop?

Because she couldn’t. Not now. It was too late. She’d gotten herself into it and now she was stuck. She thought about Paul. She loved him, she truly did. So why had she risked everything? She looked back at Beth. Why had she risked her family?

Abby looked down at the phone in her hand and dialled Jen. It rang several times before cutting off to voicemail. Abby hung up. She searched through her phone for Jen’s landline and tried again. No doubt she was too busy flirting with the builders.

Another answering machine. She sighed and waited for the beep. ‘Hi, Jen, it’s me. I’m running a little late so I’ll be about forty minutes, an hour if I get lost. I don’t know where you are but you’d better be there when I arrive.’

As she pulled out of the car park and onto the main road through town she wondered whether today should be the day. So many times she’d wanted to share her secret with Jen but she kept bottling out at the last minute. Her friend was no angel herself and what she’d been told, reluctantly by Paul, less so by Jen, was that their relationship had been brief and passionate, and based more on a love of arguing about writers than any great feeling for each other. But something stopped her. Maybe there was still some kind of loyalty there. It just wasn’t worth the risk.

As she reached the junction off the main road and headed out towards the countryside, Abby tried to forget her problems. She wanted to focus on the here and now; the road signs and not getting lost. She listened to the noises of Beth gurgling her way to sleep in the backseat and wondered where Jen had got to when she said she couldn’t leave the house all day.

Chapter Two

Abby slowed down by the pub on Loftus High Street, a queue of traffic ahead. She craned her neck to try to see what was causing the holdup but a lorry in front blocked her view. She watched as two cars turned around. Whatever was causing the delay clearly wasn’t moving. Abby crawled forward, edging out slightly to see past the lorry before she rummaged in her bag for the directions she’d printed off.  She traced her finger along the map, trying to work out where she was. She had two options. Left or right.

Abby indicated and pulled out past the lorry. From the pub car park a white van took her place in the queue.  She looked at the map again before turning right, then glanced in the rear-view mirror. Beth was sleeping soundly. 

When she finally came to the end of the track the daylight was a welcome relief from the endless canopy of branches. She paused at the junction before turning into the narrow country road.

After hitting several potholes Abby looked back at Beth and marvelled that she was able to sleep through the turbulence. After a few hundred yards the last of the few houses disappeared and the trees cut out the light once more. Abby carried on straight ahead. As she looked in the mirror again she was surprised to see a white van was now behind her.  She turned her eyes back to the road in front of her and opened the window a crack to let some air in. Looking back into the mirror to check on Beth she noticed the van getting closer. Her stomach tightened. The speed limit was sixty and, okay, she was only doing forty but she refused to speed up. Not on this road and not with Beth in the car. The van edged closer.

‘Arsehole,’ she muttered, wary of disturbing Beth.

Begrudgingly, she moved to the left to let the van pass. It made no move to overtake, continuing to tailgate her.

‘For God’s sake,’ Abby muttered. ‘Even I could get it through there.’ She rolled her window down further and waved for the van to overtake. For ten seconds or so it stayed right where it was, Abby becoming more and more uncomfortable until it eventually sped up and pulled out to pass her. Abby watched in her wing-mirror as it moved alongside her. ‘Finally,’ she said, her fists unclenching. 

She looked up to the van’s passenger window to try to get a look at the idiot behind the wheel. Her eyes widened as the van swerved towards her. Instinctively she swung the wheel to the left and braked hard as the van scraped against her wing-mirror.  The van jerked away from her and sped past as Abby tried to control the car. Bushes along the side of the road scratched loudly at the passenger window as the car bounced along, half on the road, half on the grass verge before it ground to a halt. Abby caught her breath and pulled her seatbelt off, scrambling around to check on Beth, her heart pounding.

‘Oh my God.’ Abby leant over the seat to her daughter. Beth looked at her with wide eyes. ‘Are you alright, baby?’ Abby checked Beth over, although she knew that she was okay. She raised her hand to her mouth and stifled a cry, feeling stupid for letting her eyes fill up. Beth watched her mum and then started to cry. Abby wiped her face. ‘No, it’s okay, baby. It’s alright.’ She leaned over to unbuckle Beth from her seat but she couldn’t quite reach. She turned back around and went to open the door when she noticed the white van parked just up the road ahead of her. A man stepped out of the passenger-side door and was looking in her direction. She could see he had a phone pressed to his ear. Overtaken by fury, Abby shoved the car door open and strode towards him. He hung up the phone and slid it into his pocket.

‘What the fuck were you doing?’ Abby said to him, stopping as the man approached her, his hands up as if to apologise. ‘I’ve got a baby in the car; you could’ve killed her. You could’ve killed both of us.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said in a heavily accented voice.

‘Sorry isn’t good enough,’ Abby said glancing back at Beth. ‘I’m going to report this–’

The man’s fist slammed into her face, snapping her head back. Abby staggered backwards and fell to the ground, fear coursing through her. She stared up at the man in disbelief, her heart racing. Gravel dug into her palm as she tried to push herself up.  She lifted her other hand to her face and felt blood dripping down from her nose. She swallowed hard and crawled away from him. Getting to her knees, she searched the road for someone, anyone, to help her. She reached back for her car door and started to pull herself up. The man grabbed her hair from behind and yanked her away. Abby could hear screaming. Beth, she thought. Oh my God, Beth. The man lifted Abby to her feet, one hand still in her hair, the other twisting the back of her jumper into a tight knot, dragging her backwards. She could see Beth in the car, her face placid and untroubled.

It was then that Abby realised that the screams were her own.

Chapter Three

Abby turned and clawed at the man’s face, pushing him, trying to pull away. She was aware of her own voice, a cacophony of screams for Beth and pleas to let her go. A second man appeared from the driver’s side of the van; a baseball cap pulled down low over his face. He walked quickly towards them, looking around. He shouted something to his friend and the first man nodded towards Abby’s car.

‘Leave her alone,’ Abby screamed, watching as the driver peered into her car at Beth. The driver turned and ran back towards them, shouting something she couldn’t make out, in a language that might have been Russian.

The man dropped her to the ground as he tried to open to the van’s back door, still arguing with his friend. She squirmed away from him, stumbling her way onto her hands and knees, frantically trying to stand and run. His foot pushed down on her back, forcing her face down into the dirt.

The driver bent and pulled Abby up to her feet, holding her tightly by her wrists, while the first man opened the doors.

She struggled against the driver, swinging an elbow up, catching his face. He shouted at her and pulled her wrists up behind her back, forcing her arms upwards, making her scream out in pain. The first man jumped into the back of the van and held his arms out for Abby. The driver tried to lift her, bumping her forward with his hip, but she caught her foot on the edge of the van and pushed herself away. The man inside the van grabbed her feet and she kicked out at him, causing him to curse at her. The driver stepped up into the van, still holding Abby by the wrists, and threw her to the floor. She scrambled on hands and knees towards the door but she was pulled back into the corner. The driver stepped out, closing one door. He looked around from under his hat and said something to his friend who stood over Abby, keeping her cowed in the corner. It sounded like they were arguing. Abby wondered if she could get past the one in the van but he turned back to face her before she could make a move, laughing as he looked at her.

Abby looked to the driver, still watching from the doorway. He looked less sure than his partner, less willing. His eyes shifted away from Abby’s, looking back at her car, back at Beth, and as he closed the other door darkness took over and the world fell into silence. Abby realised she’d stopped screaming and now all she heard was her own breathing. She could barely see in the murkiness of the van. The engine shuddered into life and the man struggled for balance as they moved off. For a few seconds he just stared at her.

‘What do you want?’ Abby asked. ‘I’ve got money, you can have it; please, take whatever you want. Just let me go. My baby needs me. She needs me.’

The man stared at Abby, seemingly unmoved by her words. She didn’t even know if he could understand her.

‘Please,’ Abby begged again and felt hot tears on her face. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom she tried to make out his features, trying not to wonder why he wasn’t wearing a mask to hide his identity.

He bent down, his face now inches from hers, and she let out a whimper. She looked into his eyes, tried to memorise his features. His skin was pock-marked, making Abby think about when she had chicken-pox as a child and her mum told her not to scratch. The memory faded as he leaned closer and Abby blinked, flinching, trying to pull herself away from his hot, fetid breath and black, empty eyes.

He moved back and tried to stand, stooping slightly beneath the low roof. He kicked something aside and leaned over to pull a sheet out of the way. The man turned back to her and said something. She looked to him, as if she could make out his meaning by his face alone. He indicated the space he’d just made. Abby looked back down and understood what he wanted. Abby’s body shook; she couldn’t breathe. On the floor on the other side of the van was a mattress, aged with use and covered with dirt, torn in several places. The man pointed again, his voice insistent. Abby felt vomit burning in her throat. She tried to disappear into the corner. The man came towards her unsteadily and she cowered. He grabbed her wrist and pulled.

‘No,’ Abby said, pulling away from his grip. ‘No, no, no...’

The man grabbed her with both hands, dragging her by the arm across the cold metal floor. Abby screamed and lashed out at him with her free hand. He dropped her onto the filthy mattress but she pushed herself up again, trying to get away. He raised his fist and Abby covered her face just as it slammed into the side of her head. She cried out as he repeated the blow again and again. Abby curled up in a ball and covered her head, crying into the dirty fabric of the mattress. She listened to the man’s heavy breathing and prayed for it to stop. She focused on the stench of the mattress beneath her, trying not to gag. Her ears started to ring and she realised he’d stopped. His breath was loud and heavy and she could smell the stinking animal-like sweat on him as he leaned in closer to her. He spat on the floor by her head.

‘Good girl,’ he said. Abby uncovered her face slightly so she could see him. He started to unzip his jeans and she let out another cry and tried to scramble away. The man grabbed both her arms and squeezed tightly, forcing them above her head, pinning her to the mattress. He shifted position so that he was straddling her thighs, his weight making it impossible for Abby to lift her legs.  ‘Good girl,’ he repeated and released one arm, his hand moving down Abby’s body to the buttons on her trousers. Abby started to breathe so fast she felt like she’d pass out. As he adjusted his position and pulled at her trousers, she prayed that she would.

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