The Attic Room: A psychological thriller (17 page)

A road sign indicating Cambridge loomed up and Nina gaped at
it. A sense of direction wasn’t her strong point, but she did know that Cambridge
was in the opposite direction to Newport Pagnell.

‘I thought we were going to your place?’

‘We are. This is a short cut to the best road there,’ said
Paul, his eyes fixed on the traffic, and Nina gave up. He must be as stressed
by the developments as she was. She turned back to the window. They were still
in Bedford, driving past old houses now, each much closer to its neighbour than
was usual nowadays.

Neighbours… The police must have warned everyone in the
street, but she hadn’t seen any neighbours when she and Paul sped away from the
house. But if people were told ‘there’s a bomb in the house next door’, they
wouldn’t spend too much time gathering stuff together before leaving the
building, would they? And – there were still no sirens to be heard, no police
cars rushing to the scene, no fire engines… And had the police warned everyone
by phone? Was that standard procedure?

She glanced at Paul. His face was pale, but there was a
determined set to his chin that hadn’t been there before. He caught her eye and
his jaw tightened. Nina felt her gut spasm. Something wasn’t right. Shit. What
was Paul doing? She turned again to see out the back window – still no sign of
police activity. Her stomach cramped as a new, horrifying thought entered her
head.

David Mallony wouldn’t have called on the house phone. The
police had radios to contact each other, and even if these hadn’t been working
for some reason, Sabine had a mobile. Paul had lied about that phone call.
Sweat broke out on Nina’s forehead – what the hell was going on here?

The car slowed down to swing round a corner, then headed
east of town. They weren’t going to Newport Pagnell, so much was clear.

‘Paul, what’s going on?’ she managed, her voice shaking.

This man was her relation, she had trusted him, more than
that; she’d been glad to find him in the horrible mess of her father’s
paedophilia and her mother’s lie. She’d thought of Paul as a victim, like she
was. Now she didn’t know what to think.

He blinked across at her, and she saw both pity and determination
on his face.

‘I’m sorry, Nina. This wasn’t what I wanted, but you left me
no choice.’

‘What do you mean? Paul, talk to me!’

He didn’t answer. Nina balled her hands. This was her cousin
and she’d trusted him… and now he was taking her somewhere and she didn’t want
to go.

‘I want to get out, Paul. Stop the car, please.’

He gave her a little smile. ‘Nina, Nina, it’s all right. Don’t
worry. We’ll get things sorted.’

Nina felt panic rising within her. She grabbed Paul’s arm. ‘Stop!
Let me out!’

He shoved her away and the car swerved across the road,
narrowly missing a lamp post as it mounted the central island and then thumped
back down on the road. A van going in the opposite direction blasted its horn.
Nina shrank back in her seat, shivering so hard her teeth were chattering.
Hell, she couldn’t make him stop the car, and starting a physical fight over
the handbrake would be suicide.

They were driving round a run-down district now, and
terraced houses lined identical streets. Few people were about. Nina swallowed.
She was tensing herself to jump out and run for it at the next corner when Paul
pulled up behind a solitary car parked at the roadside, and grabbed her
forearm.

Nina could see determination and fear in the brown eyes
fixed on her own . ‘We’re going to get out of this car and into the one in
front. We’ll do it quickly and very calmly, Nina. I’ve got a gun.’

Nina gaped at him, her gut cramping. Sam had been right –
she didn’t know Paul. The sweet, shy man she’d been so taken with was… it was
odd, he wasn’t quite gone because she could still see him in there, but he was
somehow stuck behind another Paul, and this one was a stranger.

Fear made her voice shake. ‘Paul – what are you doing? Let
me get back to Naomi, please!’

He scrabbled in the glove compartment with his free hand and
she recoiled in fright, dizzy with relief when he produced another car key.
Dear God, had she really expected him to bring out a gun? Did he have one?

‘Do as you’re told, Nina. We’ll talk later, I promise.’

He grabbed the bag of fake money from the back seat and
strode round to her side of the vehicle, gripping her arm again as soon as the
door was open. Nina’s legs were shaking so hard she could barely remain upright
as he hurried her towards the other car. She moaned inwardly. Her handbag –
with her mobile – was on the back seat of the first car. Without that she was
ten times more helpless. Shit, she was being abducted and there wasn’t a thing
she could do about it. Half a minute later they were driving away from the terraced
houses.

‘Where are we going?’ Nina knew it was important to keep
talking to Paul. She had read that you shouldn’t show fear when you were being
bullied, and this was much more than bullying. What was he going to do to her,
this man she’d thought she could trust? Bile rose in her throat.

‘Paul - ’ She started to speak, but he cut her off.

‘Keep the shit quiet, can’t you,’ he said, his voice tight.
The engine screamed as he accelerated up the road.

Horrified beyond words, Nina closed her eyes. A picture came
into her mind. Arran. Home. The Firth of Clyde sparkling in the sunlight, the
Holy Isle dark against the blueness of the sky. Tears burned behind Nina’s
eyelids. What wouldn’t she give to be back there today, as penniless as she’d
been at the start of the summer. But that wasn’t going to happen.

Claire’s story – The Isle of Arran

Claire jogged along the uneven track, then slowed to a walk
as she came to the pathway that sloped steeply across the field back up to the
farmhouse. Morag, Beth’s mother, had laughed when she’d taken up jogging at her
age after avoiding gyms like the plague all her life. Claire laughed back but
kept right on jogging. She had to make sure she was as fit as possible. Fit
people lived longer.

She knew it was irrational, this fear that she too would die
and leave Nina helpless at the hands of the authorities. But having seen both
parents die at a relatively young age, Claire’s confidence that life
automatically went on until you were eighty-something was more than shaken. In
spite of her best efforts to be positive, the carefree days of trust in the
future had been gone for a very long time.

But – she had almost made it; Nina was eighteen next week.
Her daughter was a student in far-away Glasgow now, doing secretarial studies.
She was living in a hostel connected to the college, sharing a unit with three
other girls, and she was having a ball. It was a heady time, first freedom… but
Nina had a sensible head on her shoulders, and it was right she should enjoy
herself while she was young.

Claire smiled, thinking about her girl, then frowned. As of
next week Nina was an adult and wouldn’t have to go and live with Robert if
Claire ‘popped her clogs’, as Lily had called it, but there was no guarantee
that Robert would help Nina financially when – if – he did get in touch. Claire’s
death would be followed by hurt and disappointed for Nina when she discovered
that her father was alive and Claire had lied about it. Would Nina hate her for
the lie? Oh God, she loved her girl so much, and no matter what she did, one
day Nina would resent it. Claire couldn’t even revoke the clause about him
being contacted in the event of her death because Rob had signed it too. It was
a lose-lose situation and there was no way on earth that she could put it
right. The only good ending would be if Robert died first – but if he did, they
might never hear of it.

Claire panted into the farmhouse kitchen, where Jan, the
live-in helper, was making lentil soup. As well as breakfasts, they now gave
guests the option of a simple meal at night too. Business was booming.

Claire poured a glass of orange juice and took it upstairs
with her. Maybe the best thing would be to write Nina a letter, one of the ‘to
be opened after my death’ kind. She could explain everything and apologise for
leaving her daughter in ignorance. That way at least Nina would know the truth,
because Robert couldn’t be trusted to be honest. Yes, a letter was a very good
idea. And it wouldn’t hurt to check if Robert was still at the same address –
in fact she would call him right now while she was feeling brave. Claire
searched through her handbag for her address book; she no longer knew the
number by heart and the code had changed since she’d lived there anyway.

Slowly, she punched out the number and listened as the ring
tone pringed in her ear. Seven, eight, nine times. Twenty times. There was
nobody there. Tired tears of frustration filled her eyes and she slammed down
the receiver, then on the spur of the moment she ripped the page with Robert’s
number from her address book and tore it into tiny pieces. He was gone from her
life. Forget him, Claire.

Easier said than done.

Helplessness. The sensation fluttered round Nina’s head
while nausea dragged at her gut. She was stuck in a car with her newly-found
cousin, who was in the middle of a major breakdown – what the shit was she
going to do? Her stomach cramping, she tried to steady herself, clutching the
door and the side of her seat and hardly daring to breathe as Paul drove on,
swerving round corners and flooring the accelerator on the straight. The engine
howled and Nina was thrown from left to right, the seatbelt tearing repeatedly
into the tender skin of her neck. They were in another housing estate now,
quite a long way from the first one, and she hadn’t recognised any of the
places they’d passed through. The streets became progressively dingier and more
litter-strewn, and Nina breathed out as Paul was forced to slow down. At last
he pulled up in front of a neglected semi, beer cans scattered across the
pavement in front of the house. A fresh wave of dread broke over Nina as he
switched the engine off and turned to her.

‘This isn’t a nice place, Nina, and I’m sorry. But no one’s
going to think of looking for us here so it’s the best place to be.’

His voice was pitched higher than normal and it cracked on
the last word. Nina’s throat closed in terror. She’d heard that voice before…
The blackmailer on the phone was Paul. Shit, hell… Paul had taunted her and
threatened Naomi… What on earth was he trying to do? She clenched her fists to
stop her hands shaking.

With growing horror she realised there had never been a
bomb, or a phone call from the police. It had been Paul, getting her – and the
supposed money – out of the house and away with him. He must have made the call
to John Moore’s phone from his mobile, right in front of her stupid nose while
she was sitting on the sofa texting bloody smilies to Naomi. And then he’d gone
out when Sabine answered the call… Nina bit back a moan. He must have hurt
Sabine, knocked her out, or worse. And oh God – no one knew where they were…
What a gullible cow she was, she’d believed every word he told her. But why was
he doing this?

Paul undid both their seatbelts. ‘We’re going inside – and
you’d better be quiet about it. Remember my gun.’

Nina said nothing, concentrating for the moment on not
having hysterics. She had to get a grip; be in control – but how impossible
that seemed now. Paul was waiting by the passenger seat door, and Nina was
unable to prevent the shudder when he grasped her elbow and steered her towards
the house. She stared round wildly, but no help was at hand. Apart from a
little gang of hooded teenagers lingering raucously at the corner about thirty
yards away, the street was empty of people.

‘Paul, please. Let’s talk. I’m sure can work something out.’
She tried her best to sound understanding and firm but it was impossible, her
voice was shaking. He must know how afraid she was – hell, look at the expression
on his face. What a bastard; he was enjoying her fear. That was what those
madmen who abducted people got off on, wasn’t it? – the feeling of power over
their victim.

He didn’t answer, and all she could do was stand and watch
as he opened the shabby front door, revealing a narrow hallway. A stained and
smelly carpet covered the floor and the walls were painted what had probably
started out magnolia, but time and touch and cigarette smoke had transformed
them into patchy grey and beige. Stairs, the carpeting worn bare in the centre
of each tread, rose into darkness on the left, and the stench of poverty and
squalor was rife.

Horrified, Nina stumbled as he pushed her inside. ‘Shit,
what kind of place is this? Do you live here?’

His eyes were shining brightly, and yes, those were tears
she saw there… maybe she could still get out of this. Hope swelled painfully in
her head.

‘Of course not.’ The indignation in his voice would have
been funny in other circumstances. He hustled her down the unlit passageway. ‘This
is all your fault. You’ve ruined everything. I have spent months, Nina, years,
doing research, looking for those scumbag paedos, and it was going so well
until you arrived and got the police involved. I’ve met a lot of – undesirable
people, shall we say, and this place belongs to one of them. Oh, don’t worry.
He’s in prison. So we’ll be safe enough in the meantime and more importantly,
no one will find us.’

Paul pushed her into the kitchen at the back of the house
and Nina felt a hysterical urge to laugh. She hadn’t been impressed by John
Moore’s kitchen, but this one was ten million times worse. It was indescribably
filthy and apart from an ancient-looking gas cooker there were no appliances at
all. A thick, pungent smell hung about the place and made her eyes water. It
obviously hadn’t been lived in properly for a very long time. Paul pointed to a
greasy wooden chair and Nina sat, shuddering. Her legs had lost their strength
again.

Paul laughed mirthlessly. ‘Not quite up to your standards,
is it?’ he said, the sneer in his voice increasing Nina’s fear.

She looked at him bleakly, unsure how to reply. This kitchen
wasn’t up to anyone’s standards. Normal people didn’t live like this.

‘Paul – please tell me why you’re doing this. What do you
mean, you were looking for paedos?’

Keep him talking, try to get him back on your side, Nina. It
was as if her own voice was inside her head now, Christ, was she going mad too?
But if he didn’t tell her there was no way she could help either of them. Hell,
she didn’t even know if she wanted to help him after this, but she had to help
herself because she had a daughter out there waiting for her. Naomi, Naomi
baby, it’s going to be all right, please, it must be all right…

He slumped into a second chair and sat staring at her. ‘You
really don’t know what you’ve done, do you?’ he said, his voice a strange
mixture of regret and contempt.

Suddenly Nina was angry. ‘No, I don’t. From where I’m
sitting I’ve done everything right. I was trying to cooperate with the police when
I came up against what seemed to be criminal activity. So tell me what I did
wrong.’

He was sitting with his hands in the pockets of his jerkin,
but now he leaned towards her, his expression malevolent. Nina shrank back into
her chair. She would have to be more careful what she said, it would be a
mistake to anger him more than she had already. She listened, horror growing
inside her as he spoke.

‘I’ve found them, Nina. Most of them. Those dirty old men
who paid our dads for – us. I was made redundant last year and I went to your
dad for money – I reckoned he owed it to me – and after a little persuasion he
gave me what I needed. But it started me thinking, remembering what happened in
that house. Those filthy pigs… so I started to look for them. Your dad - ’

Nina recoiled at his last words, he said them with such
venom, and he was doing it to hurt her. She could tell by the way he watched
her response and smiled briefly. There was no way she could keep the anguish
from her face.

‘- your dad gave me some names, after a little more
persuasion, and I looked them up. And you know what? All they wanted was to
save their own disgusting skins. Every single one of them. It was child’s play
to get money from them, but that wasn’t the best bit, oh no – I got to see them
squirm. They were terrified their dirty little secret was going to come out,
and they were all prepared to give me more names as well as hard cash. But I
haven’t finished, Nina, there are two more I definitely remember doing vile
things to me, and I haven’t found them yet. And you, stupid interfering madam
that you are, have upset the whole bloody thing.’

Nina closed her eyes momentarily, overwhelmed by the mental
picture of what had happened in the attic at the hands of these men.

‘And is money and seeing them squirm enough for you?’ she
whispered.

He laughed again, he actually laughed at that, and Nina
began to sob, she couldn’t help it. His laughter stopped as suddenly as it had
begun.

‘Enough? Oh no – but you see I’m going to give their names
to the papers. And my dad’s name too, and your dad’s, even though he’s out of
it now. That way, the ones I haven’t found’ll still be terrified, like I – like
we were, Nina. And it’s not just those creeps from your dad’s attic room I
found. There are others, too, and some of them did a lot worse things to other
kids, pretty little girls and nice little boys like you and I were. I
confronted them too and got to see them squirm as well. I’m going to take all
their money and then one day, when I’ve found a nice round number, maybe a
hundred, maybe two, I’ll give every single name to the papers. Oh yes, that’ll
be enough. One day. But for now you’ve buggered it all up.’

Nina stared bleakly. She was a victim of these crimes too.
Was she to have no say in what they did with their abusers? Apparently not. But
in an odd way she could even sympathise with Paul here.

‘If you give the police the names you have up to now they’ll
be able to find the others.’

‘You might be right about that, little cousin. But that’s
not what I want. I want to stand in front of these kiddy-fuckers first and
watch the terror in their eyes. And I should be out looking for them before it’s
too bloody late, not sitting in a disgusting kitchen talking to you.’

He stood up and rummaged in a cupboard under the sink,
pulling out an old piece of rope. Panicking, Nina leapt to her feet and tried
to run but he grabbed her arm and forced her to sit again. With all her
strength she pushed against him, but he slapped her face with the rope and
began to wind it round her middle, tying her to the chair.

‘Sit – still,’ he said, his voice hissing in her ear.

Nina flinched. She should do as she was told for the moment.
She had to stay unharmed; if he injured her she might never be able to get out
of here. Trembling, she sat enduring his touch as he went on to tie both her
wrists to the struts where the back of the chair met the seat, and her ankles
to the chair legs. Whistling between his teeth, he produced a rag, an old tea
towel by the looks of it, and used it to gag her. By the smell it had been in
contact with motor oil at some point and Nina spat and jerked her head away,
but he was stronger. Saliva filled her mouth and the fumes from the rag made
her eyes water; dear God, nothing in her life had ever been as disgusting as
this.

When she was immobilised to his satisfaction he blinked down
at her, and for a second she saw regret in his eyes.

‘What I have to do is keep the police occupied with you,’ he
said. ‘If they’re looking for you they won’t be worrying about what my dad
supposedly did, or even about sending bags of cash to the park tonight.
Meantime, I’ll get on with looking for my last important two. I have to get
them, Nina.’

Whistling again, he began to search through the cupboards.
Nina was finding it impossible to breath calmly. The gag tasted gross, and it
was cutting into the flesh at the corners of her lips. God knows what bacteria
were swimming round in her mouth. Paul must be mad. Psychotic, whatever. His
search for paedophiles had a terrible kind of logic, but why was he doing this
to her? Why send the blackmail letters, why the phone calls? Maybe he’d thought
she’d go running away home, leaving him to continue his ‘work’ in peace. But
now? Holding her in a squalid kitchen was doing nothing to further his cause.

Nina writhed against her bonds; they were much too tight.
She could feel blood pulsating in her wrists; it was agony... Hell, how long
was he planning to keep her here? She stared at the floor, willing herself to
stay calm. Naomi, baby, don’t worry, it’s going to be okay. But was it?

Paul was watching her, his expression mocking. ‘You had it
all, you know. Your mam got you out, you had a good life. A proper home – a
baby
. And I know you might need a little persuasion to stay
here and help me with this, so I’m going to fetch your baby,’ he said, his new
high-pitched voice echoing round the bare kitchen. ‘Little Naomi, she’s always
been able to wrap you round her little finger, hasn’t she? First I’ll go to the
police and tell them we were both abducted but I managed to escape. You,
unfortunately, weren’t so clever, and how would I know where they’ve taken you?’

Nina struggled to keep panic at bay. He mustn’t, he must not
bring Naomi here. She moaned into the gag. What could she do now, what could
she do to stop him?

Paul smiled, and Nina had to look away because oh, it was
like something in a horror movie. His eyes were shining and his face didn’t
belong to the man she had met just a few days ago.

‘First the police and then the hospital. The abductor had a
knife, you see. A little realism’ll make sure they believe me. I need hospital
treatment and that’s when I’ll go off by myself leaving them all looking for
you on the Luton bypass, because that’s where we were heading when I managed to
escape, isn’t it? And then I’ll go and comfort my poor little cousin Naomi, she
must be so frightened without Mummy. You can stay here together. Searching for
you will keep all those policemen so busy they won’t worry about what I’m
doing, looking up those last two scumbags.’

He took a kitchen knife from a drawer and held it up to the
light, watching it glint before stabbing it twice, viciously, into his lower
arm. Nina gasped, the shock and the gag combined almost preventing her from
breathing. Paul was mad. He would do anything. And shit, fuck…

Blackness swirled in front of Nina’s eyes. He was going to
bring Naomi back here and she couldn’t stop him. So no way could she leave this
house even if she did manage to get free. She’d have to wait in this awful
place for Naomi… Dear God, what would this do to her little girl?

Paul wound a towel round his bloody arm. ‘You know, after
what happened to me when I was a kid, nothing much hurts anymore.’ He bent over
her and jerked the bonds on her wrists tighter still. White hot pain seared up
Nina’s arms, and tears ran down both cheeks and soaked into the gag.