Needing to confide in someone now Noah was out of the picture, Olivia turned to Molly, letting her friend cook her dinner, which she mostly pushed around her plate, too anxious and upset to eat.
While she pushed the food she came clean about everything that had been going on, telling Molly about the notes, the photo, the video and the phone calls. Molly had at first been shocked, but that shock had quickly turned to annoyance.
‘I can’t believe you kept all this from me.’
‘I’m sorry. I just wasn’t comfortable with people knowing.’
‘But you told Noah,’ Molly pouted.
‘Well… yes.’
Olivia hadn’t counted on this reaction.
‘I share a house with you, Livvy. If someone has been threatening you then I think from a safety point of view, I had the right to know.’
‘I’m sorry, I–’
‘That night in the garden. Do you think whoever was outside, whoever knocked into me, is the same person doing this?’ she whispered.
‘I don’t know. I guess, maybe. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. You’re right. I should have. You deserved to know.’
‘You said you don’t know why you’re being targeted. Is that really true?’
That was a loaded question.
Olivia sighed deeply, aware that now Molly knew some of it, she may as well find out the rest. The thought of going through everything again was exhausting, but Molly was right, she did deserve to know.
She shifted her chair back and got up from the table, lifting her jumper to reveal her scars. Molly’s eyes widened as she waited for Olivia to speak.
Olivia drew in a deep breath. ‘When I was fourteen there was an accident.’
Molly didn’t say anything while Olivia went over everything that had happened, but her expression did change from shocked to angry to horrified.
‘So that’s it. That’s everything that happened.’ Olivia gave a shrug as she finished. She was still uncomfortable talking about the past. ‘Noah is convinced what is happening now has something to do with what happened to Margaret. I had my doubts, but knowing that Rachel’s boyfriend hired Noah to look into me suggests it is all connected.’
‘Have you thought about contacting him?’
‘Adam Somerville?’
‘Maybe you should confront him and find out why he was having you investigated.’
Olivia had thought about it, had kicked herself for not making a note of Adam’s telephone number, but that had been in the heat of the moment. Now she had calmed down a little, knew he was connected to Rachel, so was another unwelcome connection with the past, she was more hesitant. Molly was right, though, she should confront him and demand answers.
She had already established that he was a freelance web designer and had got his mobile number from his website, so making contact should be easy enough.
‘I will try and get hold of him tomorrow.’
Molly nodded, glancing at where Olivia had pulled her jumper over the scars. ‘Does it still hurt?’
‘Not really. I have some numbness, but I didn’t lose all feeling.’
‘It looks painful. I can understand why you hide it. Do you think Noah was really okay with it or just pretending?’
‘I don’t know.’ Olivia’s tone was tight. She had shown Molly her scars in confidence and didn’t appreciate having it pointed out how unsightly they were. ‘I was just a job to him, so probably not.’
‘I’m sorry. I was thinking aloud and it was insensitive.’ Molly pulled a face and tapped the side of her head. ‘I really need to think before I open my big mouth.’
She did, but Olivia knew her well enough by now to know she was blunt, brutally so at times.
Dominic had made her paranoid about her scars and knowing how Noah had just used her made things far worse. They were her demons though and she would fight them. ‘Look, I’m really tired. It’s been a long day and I need to get some sleep.’ Olivia pushed back her chair, started clearing the table. ‘Thank you for cooking me dinner tonight. I really appreciate it.’
She saw Molly glance at her barely touched meal and thought she was going to comment; but instead she nodded. ‘No problem.’
As soon as Olivia closed the bedroom door she glanced at her phone. She was annoyed, frustrated and hurt that she hadn’t heard a word from Noah. Which was what she kept telling herself she wanted, of course. The relationship was over. Still, she had expected something; an explanation, an attempt to put things right, or an apology, at the very least.
But there had been no messages, no phone calls, and he hadn’t shown up at her home or work, which was what she had been readying herself for all day.
A tiny part of her was tempted to message him, tell him exactly what she thought of him, just to get a reaction. It was a stupid idea, though, and she knew it was an act she would regret in the morning.
Instead she lay awake for an hour, unable to find a comfortable position, too hot under the duvet though it was freezing outside and aware of every creak in the house. Her mind worked overtime as she mulled over Noah’s betrayal and why Rachel’s fiancé had hired him. And all the time she was acutely aware that if she didn’t get to sleep she was going to face another exhausted day in the office.
Eventually sleep pulled her under, but it was restless and dream fuelled. Fern was filming a naked Olivia as she tried to escape down a corridor of locked doors that never seemed to end. Eventually she came to a door that opened and she found herself in a room with Gary, Howard, Janice, Kelly and Rachel gathered around a huge fire. Margaret and Noah were both dead on the floor, their bodies still burning, and the gang had Molly surrounded. She was screaming for Olivia to help her as they pushed her into the flames.
Olivia turned to run, found herself face to face with Fern, the door slamming shut behind her. Her smile was macabre. ‘You’re next.’
Olivia spun around, as the group gathered around her, hands grabbing, pulling her towards the flames. The smell of thick smoke and cooked flesh filled her nostrils, making her gag, and the heat of the fire and the thick smoke stinging her eyes.
‘NO!’
She woke up, sat up in bed, heart racing, covered in sweat and the sheets tangled around her. Through the blackness of the room, she heard Luna meow in protest at being disturbed.
‘Fuck.’
She reached through the darkness for her bedside light, clicking it on, the warm comforting glow lighting up her bedroom, and she blew out a breath.
‘It was just a dream.’ She muttered the words aloud, needing to convince herself. It had felt so real.
She grabbed her phone. Still nothing from Noah. The time was 3.15. Somehow she had to get back to sleep.
Not sure what she feared most, staying awake or slipping back into the nightmare, she sank back down into the pillow and closed her eyes.
Twenty miles north, in a dark and chilly room, Fern St Clair attempted to shift position, wincing when the metal cuffs cut into her wrists and ankles.
She had no idea how long she had been here. The way everything was aching from her uncomfortable position, she suspected a couple of days. She had drifted in and out of consciousness and her only way of telling time was the small grate in the bottom of the wall. At times sunlight filtered through it, bathing the empty room in shadows, while at other times she was in complete darkness.
She knew she had lost control of her bladder twice because the bastard had just left her. She had seen him moving around outside but he had left her alone in the cold, no food, no water and no toilet. She wasn’t sure what scared her more: meeting the same fate as Gary and Howard, or being trapped here to slowly die.
Her last recollection was of being in her kitchen, getting ready to leave. That was how he must have got her, sneaking into her house. She had then woken here, her face pressed against a hard, damp and dirty floor, and her head throbbing in pain. There was complete silence, other than the slow drip from a faraway tap, that taunted her, a constant reminder of how thirsty she was. Even if she could find a way to manoeuvre herself towards the source of the water, the thick musty cloth that filled her mouth would prevent her from drinking.
Her initial reaction had been panic and she had fought like a wild animal to free herself. Escape had been impossible though. Her wrists and ankles were both cuffed and linked by a further chain that forced her shoulders back and prevented her from doing little more than rolling from side to side on her stomach.
So she had no choice but to lie there and wait, her muscles cramping, desperate for water, her belly raw and aching with hunger, and shivering, both from cold and fear.
She had learned his identity before it turned dark, waking from an uncomfortable sleep, for the briefest second in ignorant bliss, before a fresh wave of despair had hit, and she remembered she was trapped and at the mercy of a monster.
Footsteps had cut through the silence, growing closer, and she had whimpered into the gag, wanting to be freed, but terrified that if her captor came in the room, worse would happen.
Her shoulder blades had screamed as she snaked an inch closer to the grate, pushing her face against the bars and she had blinked against the light as her eyes adjusted.
Dark laced boots, long jean-clad legs. The low position of the grate didn’t allow her a full view, but she could tell that the person who had taken her was male.
What was he going to do to her? Fern remembered Gary and Howard, Janice too. She squeezed her eyes shut as she trembled uncontrollably. Waited.
It couldn’t end this way for her. It just couldn’t.
But then the footsteps were fading. He was leaving her again.
Her eyes sprang open, catching a glimpse of the man from behind. The jeans, the dark jacket, and hair poking out from underneath a beany hat. He turned in the doorway and she caught his profile, eyes widening in horror.
Noah Keen.
She had suspected Olivia, been suspicious of Noah’s motives, but she hadn’t actually believed he was behind everything.
She watched as he disappeared, wondering why he was doing this. What was Noah’s connection to Margaret Grimes?
Unless he was helping Olivia and she was in on it too.
Her mind worked overtime as she tried to ignore the fact she needed to pee again, her bladder straining against her tight jeans. Eventually she drifted off to sleep, awoke sometime later, aware of shuffling close by.
Was that a fucking rat?
The room was completely black, every muscle in her body weeping as she tried to roll into a more comfortable position, crying against the pain in her arms and legs.
As she rested on the floor, tried to calm herself as a fresh bout of tears threatened to take hold, the shuffling noise sounded again, this time growing closer.
Something furry brushed against her face and she scooted back and then jolted as it scurried over her belly.
Oh God, it was a rat.
Fear trembled through her as she held her breath, praying it had gone away.
She wondered where Noah was, whether he was close by, and how much longer he was going to leave her like this.
All she wanted was for the nightmare to be over, but deep down she knew the worst was yet to come.
