When Good Friends Go Bad (38 page)

'This is ridiculous, I feel like we're in
Curse of the Rabid Zombies.
Or playing sardines in Georgina's basement,' whispered Meg. She stuffed her fist in her mouth to stifle a nervous giggle.

'And there's four against one,' Jen whispered back, trying to sound braver than she felt. 'We can handle him all right.'

'But Tom's a big man and he's, well a man,' pointed out Georgina.

'Shh.'

What were they thinking of? How could they ever imagine they could handle this?

Tyres screeched to a halt by the gate. Footsteps crunched along the frosty path. 'Jen? Rowan?' The man's voice was almost blown away by the wind. No secrecy, then. He probably guessed they were still there. Wanted them to know he knew. Amp up the terror. There was an imperious knock on the door and then the doorknob turned and the latch shook.

'Jen bolted it, didn't she?' Meg hissed to Rowan as the footsteps moved away.

'The front door, yes,' nodded Rowan.

'You mean there's a back?' Jen raced to the other door just as the man stepped through. She lunged, bringing the frying pan down hard on the first bit she could hit, which was his shoulder. Georgina and Meg jumped, screeching, at the intruder, Meg stabbing randomly with the blunt nail file, Georgina pulling wildly at his hair. The din was deafening, everything chaos. Feo was barking hysterically, jumping into the fray, savaging the stranger's trouser leg, the sausage dog yapping in unison. Rowan had found a small milk pan and was hitting Dugan on the head as he raised one hand against the onslaught, his shoulders bowed, Jen going for the belly and shins now, attacking with gusto.

For a moment it looked inevitable he would go down but then suddenly it all went horribly wrong. He shook his ankle and Feo flew across the room, taking the sausage dog with him. The man grabbed the frying pan from Jen and sent it clattering across the floor, stood up and with a shrug of his muscular shoulders raised his arms and the other three women went tumbling to the ground. His strong hand had both Jen's wrists pinned, her friends lay helplessly looking up.

'Of all the effing . . .' he cursed, brushing off Feo who'd returned for more. His voice was deep and husky, not a bit like Dugan's come to think of it.

Jen felt a sob catch in the middle of her throat.

It was Ollie.

'Tell me something,' Ollie said, cautiously touching his scalp and examining his bruises by the light of a candle. 'Do I have
any
hair left?' Gingerly he lowered his body into the nearest armchair.

Georgina surreptitiously brushed a few blond strands from her jacket.

'Ollie, I'm sorry,' Jen said for about the fourth time. 'How could we know? You're supposed to be on the teacups at Euro Disney. What the bloody hell are you doing here?'

'Saving you.' He rubbed ruefully at his stomach where she'd nailed him with the frying pan. 'Chloe needed some things from the house so while I was waiting I happened to google Dugan.' He looked slightly abashed. 'Idle curiosity, I suppose. Anyway I pulled up this newspaper article from years back. All about a non-molestation order against some creep and, guess what, his wife had been a student at Ashport Comp and the stalker's name was one Thomas E. Dugan.'

'That's impossible.' Jen looked at the others. Meg's eyes were large as saucers, Georgina seemed mesmerised, her whole body tilting towards Ollie as if she were a magnet and he was true north. Only Rowan sat like a Buddha, stroking the cat that had sought refuge in her lap. 'We did hundreds of searches on Rowan Howard.' Jen frowned, thinking it over. 'Why didn't we see it?'

'They never mentioned Rowan by name. The court order was for her mother. I guess her aunt had to take one out too. Is that right, Rowan?'

'Right enough, boyo.' Rowan nodded sagely.

'But how did you find this place?' Meg's suddenly dulcet tones were dripping with admiration. Jen didn't like the way she was looking at Ollie; as if he were a giant steak and she a hungry hyena.

'Wasn't too difficult.' He turned to Jen. 'You left the Christmas card addressed to Dyllis Bedlow on the table.' Rowan's head jerked up. 'All I had to do was drop Chloe with Helen and hit the road.' His eyes fixed on Feo lying at her feet. 'Is
that
the "darling little puppy"?'

'Yes.' She bent down to pat the unfortunate mongrel, avoiding her Welsh friend's accusatory glare. 'Why? What about him?' she asked defensively.

'Nothing.' He stretched out his legs, amused.

'Enough of that.' Jen stood up briskly, 'Dugan might be here any minute. Even if the AA have to tow him. Did you pass a red Toyota?'

'Didn't notice.'

'What are we going to do?' Georgina seemed relieved to hand the problem to a higher authority.

'I have an idea.' Ollie flexed a fist thoughtfully. He looked happy at the prospect of it connecting with flesh and bone.

'No!' Rowan stood up, tipping the cat off her lap. 'You mustn't injure him.' She stared wide-eyed at the others. 'It's not his fault. He can't help himself. He's a victim too, in a way, poor dab.'

'Now hang on a sec.' Ollie ruffled his hair, clearly not believing his ears. 'You all hurt
me.
I thought I was under attack by a pack of wild dogs.' He bent down to show the hem of his jeans, ripped by Feo's sharp teeth. 'I suppose I should be glad that wasn't my ankles.'

'We were scared stiff,' Rowan said simply. 'But now you're here. And you're a lot younger and stronger than he is.'

'Stop . . . wait.' Jen jumped in as Ollie tried digesting that, the logic baffling to a man of action. She placed herself in front of Ollie, hand up like a traffic cop.

'It was very nice of you to come,' she addressed him. 'But you're not necessary. We can handle this.'

'Too bad,' he said, crossing his ankles and looking immovable. 'Because I'm staying.'

'No, if you scare Dugan off he'll only wait until you're not around and come back. Don't you see, Rowan will be running for ever. Nothing will have changed. She's got to confront him herself. Show him she means it.'

'That's very wise, Jen.' A faint smile flickered over his lips. 'Not the Trisha Goddard show?'

'No. I thought of it myself.' She glanced out the window into the blackness. 'And now I've got a plan.'

'So now there's only . . .' Georgina stopped and motioned everyone to silence. 'I think I hear another car.'

'Is it stopping?' asked Meg nervously.

Georgina peeked over the windowsill. 'Yes. It's him.'

'Quick, into your places!' Jen ordered.

Moments later, there was a knock on the door.

'Georgina?' Rowan whispered.

'Check.'

'Meg?'

'Check.'

'Jen?'

'Checkmate,' Jen said.

Another knock. A loud creak of an opening door. They heard footsteps walk in, then stop.

'Fox is in the lair,' Rowan whispered.

The footsteps started again. It seemed impossible he wouldn't hear the hammering of their hearts even from beneath the bedroom floorboards.

'Shhh!' hissed Georgina. 'He's coming up the stairs.'

What seemed like a terrifying age later, the bedroom door slowly opened and the shape lying under the covers stirred a little.

'Rowan?' Dugan said in the unlit gloom.

The figure under the blankets moved a little more.

'Rowan?' He began pulling back the covers.

'What, what is it?' Rowan sat up and rubbed her eyes. 'Who's there?'

'It's me. Your husband,' he said coldly. He stood legs apart, a sliver of moonlight streaked across his face, leaving half in shadow. His lips were tightly pressed together.

'
Ex
-husband. What are you doing here?' Rowan's voice was trembling.

'You don't know how long . . . how much . . .' he began.

'I left you. I want you out of my life,' she said, gripping hold of the bedsheet, pulling it to her chin.

'I told you I'd find you. You can never leave me. I won't let you. Can't you see, fate has brought us together again. We were never meant to be apart.' He took a step closer to her, hand reaching out imploringly.

'We should never have been together, you mean,' she said shakily. 'Can't you realise I'm happy without you?'

'Don't fool yourself. We need each other. I made mistakes but I'm here to make it up to you. I want to take care of you, Rowan.'

Jen watched through a tiny crack. Rowan was whiter than the sheet she was clutching, her eyes wide with horror as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

'You can't get away from me, you know.' His voice softened, coaxing. 'Give in, you love me, I love you. You can't fight it.'

'Don't come near me!' She backed away, huddled against the bedstead, her face stricken.

'There's no one to hear you,' Dugan said ominously, his manner now changed. He moved his hand towards the sheet.

'I said don't come any nearer. Don't . . . Help!'

Suddenly Georgina rose up from behind an armchair. 'Leave her alone.'

'What . . . what are you doing here?' Dugan spluttered.

Meg stepped out from the heavy wooden shutters and Jen emerged from her hiding place, stretching out her arms, which were aching badly from being squashed to her sides in a tiny cupboard.

'Leave her alone!' Georgina repeated forcefully, placing herself between Dugan and Rowan.

Dugan's eyes swivelled towards Jen. 'I thought you'd have left by now.'

'Well, you thought wrong, didn't you?'

'She's told us everything,' said Georgina. 'What you did, how you treated her.'

'She's got it all wrong. You mustn't believe her. I've only ever wanted to love her. To cherish her.'

'We're not listening to your bullshit, Dugan,' Meg growled.

'And if you set foot near Rowan ever again,' Georgina joined in, 'we'll make sure everyone knows the truth of what you did. That you're a predator. She was only a child when you seduced her, a schoolgirl. Your reputation will be ruined.'

'You deserve to fry,' Meg sneered threateningly. 'Or at least suffer the way you've made her suffer. One false move and you can bet you'll get what's coming to you.'

He glared at them. 'You're pathetic, all of you. Do you think you can scare me away? You can't do a thing to me.'

'Try us.' Georgina fixed him with her haughtiest look.
'You . . . scoundrel.'

'I'll have you up for slander.' Dugan's voice was scornful, confident. 'Think of the scandal. The press'll have a field day. You wouldn't want your precious Giordani dragged through the courts.'

Jen looked across at Rowan, who'd used their distraction to slide out of bed, fully dressed, and was cowering in a dark corner. Jen thought she could see her friend's body shaking. Dugan was more menacing than they'd thought.

Georgina stepped forward, raising the frying pan. 'OK then, why don't we just make it assault?' She looked imposing, a warrior queen, another Boadicea. Involuntarily Dugan retreated a pace.

Meg lit a candle, holding it up. 'I'll testify. I've got nothing to lose.'

Dugan sneered, his lip curling. 'No one would believe you after that fake paternity suit. I googled you and guess what came up?'

Meg shrugged as they stared at her illuminated face.

'It's true,' she admitted. 'God knows who leaked it. Irwin the Schmuck was paying child support for Zeb.'

'Irwin Beidlebaum?' Georgina gasped.

'He called me the day after the Marlow Arms. Escorted me around for a few weeks until he traded me for some other actress. I thought he was the dad, the timing was right. And Irwin was OK with having a son, not that the cheapskate ever went out of his way to be part of his life, sent us some measly payments, stopped by to see us about every two years – until he married that bimbo and discovered all his Oompa-Loompas were swimming upstream.' She told the story with a world-weary lack of passion. 'He totally wigged out, made us get DNA tests but it didn't go to court.'

'But we thought . . . what about the Vegas bull rider?' Jen asked.

'Pregnant when we hooked up. Only it hadn't started to show. He had no interest in being a father either.' Her gaze met Georgina's.

'And before you chip in,' Dugan turned glowing eyes to Jen, 'you're not the most credible witness. An aggrieved one-night stand, bitter because I failed to repeat the performance. Who'd listen to a pair of slags like you two?'

Jen flinched, wondering if Ollie, down in the kitchen with Feo, glass to the ceiling, could hear everything. She almost expected him to race upstairs and punch out their ex-teacher – or perhaps just walk out and never speak to her again. Fury overtook her. Dugan thought he had them cowed.

'Go on then,' she said. 'Grab him, girls!'

A minor scuffle later, Dugan was perched on the bed, clothes line tied around his waist and arms.

'You've got to be joking.' He pushed against his bonds and slumped back. 'I'll have you all arrested for unlawful imprisonment. This is a criminal offence.'

'They'll laugh you out of court,' Georgina scoffed. 'Besides, we'll deny it.'

'Yeah, just like you denied you tormented Rowan, asshole,' Meg said. 'Now let's hear you say it: I'll never bother Rowan again.'

He shook his head. 'No.'

'Go on, Rowan,' Meg urged. 'Give him a gelding. Get your nail file out and hack off his testicles.'

'They're the two little balls behind the willy,' Jen added helpfully.

Rowan was standing in the shadows, head bowed. Jen had the uneasy feeling she was crying.

'OK then.' Meg brandished a penknife Jen recognised as one she'd once given Ollie. 'I'll do it. Unless you prefer jail.'

'What for?' Dugan cast his head around, looking from one to the other.

'Child abuse!' Meg said defiantly. 'You're going down, dipshit. I hear prisoners reserve special treatment for molesters.'

'Rowan was sixteen,' he said hoarsely.

'But Linda Petroski wasn't, and she'd love nothing more than to testify against you.' It was a gamble, but even big fat liars sometimes told the truth.

'And Yvonne Spitz,' Jen added, crossing her fingers. Well, Linda and Yvonne used to do most things together.

'You couldn't!' He sounded desperate now, the tough nut beginning to crack. 'She can't. I'm innocent. I didn't lay a finger on her. Linda cornered me after class one day in fourth year, holding a measuring tape, and asked me to measure her bosoms. I was stoned and I thought it was hysterically funny. I remember Yvonne took a picture. It was stupid, juvenile nonsense, but that was all there was to it, I swear.'

'Yes, but we have the photo,' Georgina said authoritatively. 'And Linda will swear in court that you then removed her clothes and had sex with her behind the stage in the assembly hall. She always was a big fat liar. That's enough to condemn you these days. And Yvonne Spitz will do anything for a lifetime of Giordani. I'm sure they'll both be delighted to confess to underage sex in a good cause. Fourth year, you say? How many years do you think that's worth?'

'You'd be sending an innocent man to prison.'

'Not so innocent,' Jen said, still smarting from the slag comment. To think she'd actually felt sorry for this bastard. And why wasn't it her holding Ollie's penknife? When had he given it to Meg? 'You abused your position of trust. Seducing Rowan.'

'If you ever go near her again, or contact her or harass her, we're right there on your case,' Georgina chipped in. 'You'll be arrested and you can think yourself jolly fortunate we haven't emasculated you already.'

'OK. OK.' Dugan's whole body slumped suddenly, all bravado visibly evaporating. 'Now untie me,
please.'

'Why should we?'

'Look, it's over,' he said, defeated. 'I promise. Please, I'll leave Rowan in peace. You have to believe me. Let me go. I've got claustrophobia. I can't stand being tied.' Suddenly his bottom lip began wobbling, his face contorting and twisting in strange ways, and then without warning he made a coughing noise.

It took Jen a moment to realise that he was actually crying. Not just crying but weeping in a sort of coughing, spluttering way. Up till now she'd managed to stay reasonably detached, barring a slight contempt, shock at his brazen manipulative ways and a sneaking desire to knee him in the nuts for the insults and selling her out to Ollie. But now looking at him so crumpled and crushed and alone, Jen couldn't suppress a tinge of pity. Everything he'd done had been wrong, very wrong. And bullying Rowan was unforgivable, but all the same . . .

'I loved her. That's all I'm guilty of. Loving Rowan too much. Please, Rowan, please?' He stared towards her shadow, his eyes desperate.