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Authors: Rachel Abbott

BOOK: Stranger Child
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David was staring at the inside of the fridge door, where a two-litre container of milk was nearly full, and the shelves were stacked with fresh food that had been bought just the day before.

Emma looked at Natasha and nodded her encouragement.

‘You can’t go out. I told you, you can’t go anywhere without me,’ the girl said, her voice sounding weak and unconvincing. It would be better if Natasha didn’t have to speak again.

‘Then you’d better come with me to keep an eye on me, hadn’t you. We’ll all go, then you can make sure I don’t do anything … your masters wouldn’t like.’ Emma was suddenly aware that she had nearly said the name Rory and had only just stopped herself in time.

‘David? Come on. You’re coming too. A family outing,’ she said with a sarcastic laugh that ended in yet another sob.

David went to pick up his keys.

‘No, we’re going in my car. I want to drive. I
need
to drive,’ she said.

David shrugged and threw his keys back on the table as Emma ushered them out of the door.

*

There was an oppressive silence in the car, and Emma wondered not for the first time how silence could vary so much in pitch and tone. This silence held a high-pitched scream at its heart. Her own head was filled with Ollie, but she kept pushing the thoughts away – mentally stroking his soft hair as she did so – to focus on what mattered. Getting him back.

She could guess what was going on in David’s head. He would be worried about Ollie too, but images of Natasha’s life over the last six years were becoming clearer and clearer, and he had to face up to the fact that Emma herself had been lying to him.

When they were first together David and Emma had talked openly about the small deceptions they had lived with in their previous relationships and agreed that there wouldn’t be a single secret between them. As far as she was concerned, that had been the truth. Until Natasha had walked into her kitchen. Since then, Emma had lied about her feelings and kept secrets from her husband.

She glanced in her rear-view mirror at her stepdaughter. Tasha was slumped against the back seat, her face washed out, her eyes haunted by images of her past and her future. This was a child who needed her mother more than ever, and Emma wished she could summon Caroline here right now.

Emma had called Tom the minute the car was away from the house, doing as he said and keeping the phone on speaker on her knee. He had told her to go to a supermarket – not their usual one, but a different one – and park in the busiest aisle of the car park.

David hadn’t spoken until the call had ended.

‘Who was that?’

‘Tom Douglas.’

‘Douglas?
Jack’s
brother?’

‘He’s a friend, David. I called him because I thought there would be a ransom, and Tom’s got more money than anybody else I know. Jack’s money. We still might be able to buy Ollie back, you know.’

David looked at her, his sad face telling her how unlikely that was.

Arriving at the supermarket, Emma reversed into a space that was hardly wide enough for the car and turned the engine off.

‘Now we wait.’

Around them shoppers pushed trolleys past their car, heads down against the rain, holding the hands of children or partners, or sometimes they battled alone with a shopping cart on wonky wheels.

Emma’s phone lay on her knee, and she glanced at it every few seconds until finally it vibrated and without picking it up she answered the call and put it onto speaker.

‘Okay, Emma – great choice of parking spot, but you need to know we think they’re here.’ There was a small gasp from the back of the car.

Tom continued. ‘They’ll have picked up Natasha’s GPS on her phone. We’ve been checking any suspect cars that contain two or more men coming into the car park. We’ve got a hit on one of the number plates. They’re watching, so you all need to be very smart about this, but no need to be frightened. They’ve turned into the top of your aisle, and they know where you are. Don’t, whatever you do, stare at each car as it goes past. The fact that you haven’t got out yet might be confusing them, so turn to each other now and start to argue – about anything. I’ll tell you when they’ve passed.’

That was one instruction that probably wouldn’t be hard to achieve, Emma thought, as she looked at David’s stony face. She knew he was already regretting the fact that he had agreed to this.

Tasha slid even further down in her seat and Emma turned to David, shouting nonsense about the mess in the back garden – the first thing that came into her head that was nothing to do with Ollie. They couldn’t hear, but they would see her expression. David stared at her mutely, a look of shock on his face that she knew wasn’t an act. She kept it up for two minutes before she heard Tom’s voice.

‘They’ve gone past. It’s pouring with rain,’ Tom said, ‘so you can run into the supermarket with your hood up or hat on. Emma and Natasha walk quickly to the back, where there’s an entrance to the ladies toilet. Go down that corridor, and somebody will be
waiting for you. David – hang back a little, pick up a trolley and make your way to the back as if you’re going to meet them.’

‘Will they follow us in?’

‘I doubt it – they’ll just be watching your car for when you come out.’ Tom paused. ‘You okay?’

‘Fine,’ Emma answered. ‘See you in a few minutes.’

She disconnected and went to open her door. David grabbed her arm.

‘Emma – are you sure we’re doing the right thing? I don’t like it.’

She had no words. She wasn’t sure that she liked it either, but if Rory’s arrest meant the whole plan had fallen apart, she had no idea what would happen to Ollie. And she wasn’t going to take that risk.

She gave her husband the most reassuring smile she could muster, opened her car door and turned to release Natasha from where the child lock was holding her prisoner.

42

Emma and Natasha were met in the corridor at the back of the supermarket by a lady of indeterminate age – she could have been anything from early forties to early sixties in her slightly frumpy uniform and her sensible shoes. She didn’t smile at them but eyed them suspiciously as she introduced herself as Mrs Clayton and informed them that Mr Douglas was waiting for them.

Without expecting a response from Emma, the woman marched off, leading the way, but Natasha hung back slightly.

‘What’s up?’ Emma whispered.

‘I think she recognised me,’ Natasha murmured.

‘What, from the newspaper articles?’

‘No – I think she used to work at another supermarket near where we lived. It was one of my targets.’

Emma gave her a puzzled look and Natasha tutted.

‘I used to nick stuff from there,’ she said, as though it should have been obvious.

Emma closed her eyes briefly and reached for Natasha’s hand.

The office they were shown into was an airless box, with one closed and locked frosted glass window, criss-crossed with thin wires, situated high up on the wall, letting in next to no light. How anybody worked in here every day was a mystery to Emma. She would go slowly mental.

Tom was standing looking at a noticeboard and much as Emma wanted to go to him and hug him, she resisted. She knew that creating allegiances that excluded David and Natasha on any level would potentially make this so much more difficult.

Tom’s eyes met Emma’s for a second and they showed nothing. She understood.

He turned to Natasha. ‘You must be Natasha. You’re a brave girl – we know this can’t have been easy for you. Come and sit down. We’re going to have a chat to see where we’re up to, and what we need to do next. Okay?’

The door opened again and David was ushered in.

‘David,’ Tom said, reaching out his hand. ‘Tom Douglas.’

Tom had arranged the chairs so they were in a group with a low coffee table in the middle. As soon as they were seated, he started to speak.

‘We haven’t got much time. Anybody in your situation would do a hasty whizz around the supermarket aisles for necessities – it’s not a pleasure trip – so we need to be quick. Okay?’

Emma and David nodded. Natasha didn’t seem able to look at Tom.

‘Natasha, I know you’ve had a hard time, but if I’m going to help you I’ll need to ask you some questions. Is that all right?’ Tom waited for a response that didn’t come. ‘We understand that you’ve only done what you’ve been told to. But things haven’t gone quite to plan, have they?’

Natasha’s eyes were glued to the floor, where she was kicking the toes of her trainers backwards and forwards, her hair obscuring her face – a child again. But there was the trace of a shake of her head.

‘We know a bit about Rory Slater and Finn McGuinness. They’re dangerous men – and we need to keep you safe from them. But to do that, you’re going to have to help us too.’

Emma noticed a tear splash on Natasha’s knee. She could see that Tom didn’t miss it either.

‘You’re scared of them, aren’t you?’ he asked. A small, but definite nod was his answer.

‘Well, the only way we’re going to get rid of that fear is to get them both locked up, where they can’t hurt you any more.’

A sound that was suspiciously like a derogatory laugh came from behind the curtain of blonde hair.

Tom looked from Emma to David, with an apologetic expression.

‘Do you know what their plan is, Natasha? You told Emma and your dad that it might be off now – because of Rory Slater being arrested – but what was the plan?’

‘Don’t know. They said it wouldn’t be what David was expecting.’

‘Why would your dad be expecting anything?’

‘Look – I just did what I was told.’

‘Why did you agree to it? It’s not an easy job for a young girl like you.’

At that, Natasha looked up and thrust her face towards Tom. ‘Do you think saying no is
allowed?
Do you know what would have happened to me if I’d
nixed
it?’ Her mouth dropped open slightly, her young face a picture of incredulity. She looked down again and murmured something.

‘Sorry, Natasha. What did you say?’

She looked up again. ‘I said I
wanted
to do it.’ The room went quiet.

‘Do you want to tell us why?’ asked Tom, his voice quietly persuasive.

‘I think we need to move on, Tom. I think it’s upsetting Tasha too much.’ David looked at his daughter, the worry lines deep on his brow. ‘We need to be looking forwards now, don’t you agree.’

Natasha made a pfff sound.

Emma watched Tom’s face. She couldn’t read it.

‘Okay – what do you think will happen if whatever they were plotting is cancelled because of Slater’s arrest?’

‘They’ll come for me.’ The voice was quiet now, but there was no hesitation. She was in no doubt.

‘And if it goes ahead and it’s successful?’ This time she paused for longer.

‘I’ll go back. I’ll be thrown in The Pit for screwing up, then sent to Julie’s.’

Tom gave a questioning look to Emma and David. Emma nodded to show that she understood at least part of what Tasha was saying, but now wasn’t the time to repeat it.

‘Do you want to go back?’ Tom asked. Natasha looked up, glanced at David, then at Emma, and shrugged, dropping her head back down. Poor kid. It was so clear she didn’t feel she belonged anywhere.

Emma reached out her hand to Tasha’s. ‘You’re not going anywhere, Tasha. They’re not getting you back.’

Tasha snatched her hand away. ‘No? What if it’s me or Ollie? Then you’d change your tune, wouldn’t you?’

Tom shook his head at Emma, and she realised he wanted her to be quiet.

‘We’re going to make sure nobody hurts you, Natasha. You just have to help me a bit. Let’s start with where you’ve been living. There are lots of other kids there, aren’t there? Was it fun?’

Natasha made the scornful pfff sound again. ‘No,’ she said.

‘Did you have a favourite friend there?’

‘Izzy.’

‘How old’s Izzy?’

‘Same as me,’ she answered quietly. She looked up, straight at Tom. ‘Is she dead?’

Emma heard a sharp intake of breath from David and she closed her eyes. Something else she hadn’t told him.

‘Why do you think she might be dead?’ Tom asked.

‘Cos they put her in The Pit until she gave in, then they sent her to …’ Natasha paused and frowned. ‘She said she was going to run away, and I’d told her stuff I shouldn’t have. If she’d run away, they’d have caught her. There was that girl you thought was me. Is it Izzy?’

‘I don’t know, I’m afraid. That’s the truth, but we do believe it might be. Where do you think she would have gone?’

‘She’d have gone to the woods. When she used to run off from her mam’s she went there.’

‘You mentioned being sent to Julie’s. Who’s Julie?’

Natasha looked up, her eyes darting from Tom to Emma and back again. Her hand covered her mouth as she spoke.

‘I didn’t. I never said nothing about no Julie.’ She started to breathe rapidly as she dropped her gaze.

Emma wasn’t sure how much more of this Natasha was going to be able to take, but Tom was handling her well. Maybe it was because he had a daughter himself. Until Julie had been mentioned, she had seemed to be opening up to him, but now she looked wary again.

‘Let’s forget about Julie for now. What I would like to know is how you came to be living with Rory and Donna Slater.’

She looked at David for a long moment, then turned back to Tom.

‘It was the night Mummy died.’ Natasha’s voice caught slightly, and she suddenly sounded like the child she was six years ago. ‘The men grabbed me. I thought they were
going to hurt me, but one of them picked me up and threw me in the back of a car.’ She stopped.

‘Why don’t you tell me everything you remember from that night. Just do your best.’

Emma watched Natasha’s face. She was looking at nobody, gazing, it seemed, at a waste bin in the corner of the room. Her face was pinched, as if she was consciously holding every feature taut. The only sound in the room was the faint hum of an antiquated heating system pumping warm air into the room around their feet. When Natasha started to talk, her voice was low – little more than a whisper – and the three adults in the room all leaned forwards to listen.

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