Fiona packed up her desk and locked away all the paperwork including the card address system she used. The visit from the private investigator had unsettled her and she was taking no chances. After checking Jane’s office was secure, she got into the lift with the other girls from the office.
‘No more trouble with your phone, then?’ Sally teased.
‘I think it will make a full recovery,’ Fiona countered, laughing. ‘I think I was having a blonde moment.’
‘But you’re not blonde,’ Sally said, fingering her own blonde hair.
‘I know, strange isn’t it?’ They both laughed as they got out of the lift.
Fiona followed Sally in the direction of the car park. ‘You parked in Patriotic, Sally?’
‘Yes. Want to walk together?’
Fiona nodded.
Then Sally said, ‘I don’t really like going there on my own, it’s a bit spooky.’
Fiona knew what she meant. The dark corners seemed to be magnets to some of the alcoholics who sheltered there to drink.
Darkness had already fallen when they reached the car park. Fiona watched Sally get into her car before starting her own car and driving out. She headed out towards St Peter where her friend Caroline lived. She wanted to use Caroline’s telephone to call Jane.
Caroline greeted her as she arrived at the door and gave her a warm hug. ‘You sounded so mysterious on the phone, you must tell me more.’
Fiona smiled. Caroline had been quick to marry and was already a mother of two young children. Fiona knew she missed the connection you get with people when you work, and was always anxious to get some news.
‘A glass of wine will loosen my tongue,’ Fiona said, mischievously.
Caroline chuckled. ‘Yes, yes, it’s ready. Come in, come in.’
Fiona followed her into the dining room and sat down at the wooden table. Even before she had put her handbag down, a glass of white wine appeared on a coaster before her.
‘I like this service,’ Fiona said, sipping at the cool, semi-sweet drink.
‘It’s a pity you don’t come more often,’ Caroline muttered, slipping into a chair.
Fiona looked at her rounded, chubby face and saw a flicker of loneliness. Since Caroline had become a mother, they’d not met more than once a month, sometimes longer and Fiona knew Caroline missed her company and the freedom to chat as friends do. ‘I promise I’ll come more often.’
Caroline raised her eyebrows and smiled. ‘I’ll hold you to that. So tell me what happened?’
Fiona told her about the visit from the private investigator and how she had felt afterwards.
‘Oh my God, he sounds awful.’
‘Do you think I’m being a bit paranoid about calling Jane from here?’ Fiona asked, taking another sip of wine.
‘You, paranoid? No. You’re always sensible and calm. But me? I would have had to go and lie down.’ They laughed.
Caroline picked up the cordless telephone and put it on the table in front of Fiona. ‘Take as long as you want. I’ll be in the kitchen preparing tea. My mother will drop the children back here in about an hour, so we have time.’ She got up and left the room.
Fiona dialled Jane’s mobile. It was not Jane’s normal mobile number, but a pay as you go one Jane had obtained in Africa. Fiona had written the number down when Jane called to give it to her. Now, Fiona had memorised it for safety. It took a while to connect and then she heard Jane’s voice. ‘Hello’
‘Hi Jane, how’s Africa?’
‘Dusty, hot and amazing, but you didn’t call to ask about that, did you? What’s the emergency?’
Fiona smiled, always to the point was Jane. ‘I had a visit from a private investigator.’
‘What did he want?’
‘He showed me a photo of Mark. It was an old picture, because Mark looked completely different to how he looks now. I didn’t indicate I recognised him. Also, I think the private investigator has got your home address, from my card system, and when I checked your office it looked like he even tried to get into your computer.’
There was silence.
‘Jane, is Mark in trouble?’ Fiona probed.
‘Did the PI find out where we are now?’
‘No, I didn’t tell him.’
Again there was silence, then Jane said, ‘I need you to go to my apartment and check it’s okay. If it looks like he’s been there, call me back immediately.’
‘Jane, what’s going on? Why is this PI after Mark?’ Fiona’s curiosity was getting the better of her.
‘I can’t tell you, just yet. But please, don’t tell him where we are, or give him this number. It’s really important.’
The anxiousness in Jane’s voice worried Fiona, she asked, ‘Do you want me to report this PI to the police, then?’
‘No, he’s done nothing wrong,’ Jane replied.
‘He was a bit of a creep though, I didn’t like him one bit,’ Fiona mumbled.
‘Are you okay going to the flat on your own?’ There was concern in Jane’s voice.
‘Yeah, I’ve dealt with worse than him.’ The cavalier tone of Fiona’s voice didn’t quite match the butterflies she was feeling in her stomach.
‘Well, be careful.’
‘I will do, don’t worry. Bye.’ Fiona hung up the phone and sat quietly. She could feel apprehension in her body and she didn’t know why.
‘You all right, chick?’ Caroline was stood at the kitchen door.
Fiona smiled and took a swig of her wine. ‘Yes, just hungry, and what you’re cooking smells lovely.’
‘Spaghetti bolognaise, your favourite.’
‘And yours,’ Fiona smiled.
Caroline laughed, patting her growing round belly. ‘You must tell me your secret of eating this and staying slim.’
‘It’s called work,’ Fiona said and pointed at Caroline, ‘and yours, is the result of too much contentment.’
Caroline scowled back at her, then pondered a bit, before saying, ‘You could be right. Lay the table, will you?’
‘Is Roger joining us?’
‘No, he’s working late. I’ll save him some for later.’
* * *
It was 7.30 pm and Fiona got up to leave. ‘It’s been great. We really must do this again.’
Caroline walked her to the door. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you to Jane’s flat?’ Jake, her little boy, peeped between her legs and Lucy, her daughter, snuggled into her arms, yawning.
‘No. I just have to check it and anyway, it’s late and the kids’ bedtime.’ Fiona kissed Lucy on the head before bending down to Jake, who turned his head away.
Well, call me as soon as you get home,’ Caroline insisted.
‘Okay I will. Thanks for the tea.’ Fiona found her keys in her handbag using the outside light of the house and got into her car. She drove down the road seeing Caroline frantically waving goodbye in her rear mirror.
It took about fifteen minutes to reach Jane’s flat. She parked in the visitor’s space and entered the flat with the spare key Jane had given her. She put the lights on and gasped. The place had been ransacked. Every cupboard and drawer had been emptied onto the floor, in the lounge, the kitchen and, when she went into the bedroom, there too. She stood amongst the mess in a state of shock. What on earth could Jane have done to warrant someone doing this to her? Even the bed had been tossed and the pillows torn apart.
Fiona moved out of the bedroom and back into the hallway. As she turned towards the front door, she froze. The man standing there, with a sly grin on his face, was the private investigator. Behind him stood a gorilla of a man. His bald head seemed to merge with his hard-set face, and the over-bulging muscles on his chest and arms, showed through his black t-shirt.
Fear coursed through her body, drying her mouth, halting her breath and falling like a lead weight into her stomach. Everything stopped, like they were frozen in a moment of time. Then, she took a deep breath and was running for the bathroom, the only lockable room in the flat. She rushed inside, slamming the door shut and pushing the lock across. There was no window and no way out. Croaking back her disappointment, she fixed her eyes upon the door, and the tiny lock, the so very tiny lock.
The door burst open, splintering the wooden frame and the gorilla’s two massive hands grabbed hold of her. She screamed, but one of his hands slammed against her mouth with such force her lip split and she tasted blood. He bodily lifted her off her feet and carried her into the lounge, where the private investigator was standing next to one of the table chairs. Fiona immediately felt sick, realising that her pain was just about to begin.
The gorilla dumped her onto the chair and removed his hand from her mouth.
‘You bastard!’ Fiona yelled, spitting blood from her mouth and touching the already swelling lips.
The private investigator bent down, so his face was opposite hers. ‘If you scream again, he’ll knock some teeth out.’
Fiona glared at him, her anger shielding the fear that was twisting the muscles of her gut. ‘Fucking touch me again and you’ll be sorry.’
The private investigator smiled the smile of someone who knew he had total control. ‘You tell us where your boss is and we’ll let you go.’
Fiona stared into his face, wondering whether he meant what he said, but the slight gleam in his eyes, as he glanced away, made her heart beat faster. She realised there was going to be no easy way out of this for her.
‘Fuck you!’ she yelled and shot off the chair, sprinting as fast as she could to the front door. Her actions took them by surprise, and she reached the door, with her hand falling upon the door handle, before the gorilla grabbed her hair, yanking her backwards and off her feet. She landed on her back and two seconds later she felt the hammer of a fist crack her cheek bone.
The gorilla clamped his hand around her neck and raised her to her feet. Through watering eyes, she saw the private investigator’s sneering face and heard him say, ‘You’re going to tell us everything we want to know.’ Then the gorilla’s fist came again.
* * *
Fiona came to consciousness slowly but in intense pain. She was laid on her stomach and couldn’t open her eyes, for they seemed glued together with a sticky substance, she guessed was dried blood. She drew in air through her mouth, as her nose was blocked by bone and blood, smashed flat against her face. Every breath she took seemed to struggle against a chest of broken ribs. But she was ALIVE!
She listened, trying to hold her breath so she could hear if they were still there. The ticking of a clock was the only thing making a noise. Was it safe? Maybe they were just sitting there watching her; looking for signs of life so they could beat it out of her again. She waited for what seemed a long time, breathing shallow, swallowing down the blood, and the pain that each breath created, listening intently. Was that a brush of a trouser leg against the sofa; a slip of a shoe against the carpet? Fiona listened some more and the clock kept on ticking.
Finally she relaxed, took a deep breath and whimpered softly with the pain. She found her right arm tucked under her body and carefully eased it out, tensing herself against the pain, as it slid against her broken ribs. She knew her right arm was moveable, for they had only broken her left one, but she didn’t know how many of the fingers still worked.
She touched her right eye and cried out in pain, as the bones of her middle two fingers ground together. She waited, listening; still no sound, or indications she wasn’t alone. She used her thumb to examine her eye, gently rubbing away the crusted blood, allowing her to see through the thin slit of her swollen eyelid. She was alone.
The relief was enormous and she began to cry, but stopped abruptly, for the pain of a single sob was like having her chest crushed. She needed to get help and the contents of her bag were strewn on the floor about two feet away. She could see her mobile amongst them. She reached forward with her right arm. The phone was just out of reach so without thinking she shuffled her body forward. The pain sent her unconscious.
When Fiona came round again, she was laid on her back and able to see through the slits of both eyes. She felt really dozy and it took a few minutes for her to realise she was in a hospital bed, with tubes dripping blood and fluid into her right arm. Her left arm was in a plaster cast. Her tongue slipped over her swollen, dry, cracked lips trying to moisten them, but she had little saliva in her mouth.
Someone from her right side came towards her and put a straw to her mouth. Fiona sipped the cool water, whilst trying to focus on the face in front of her. It was Caroline.
‘How are you feeling, chick?’
Fiona could see the redness around Caroline’s eyes, which was the only feature on her face that portrayed the worry she was feeling.
‘Could… be… better…’ The words struggled to get out, but it was enough to break Caroline’s composure.
Tears flowed down her face and she sobbed. ‘Oh Fiona.’
Just then another person appeared at the bottom of the bed, a policewoman. Caroline turned to her. ‘She’s awake.’
The policewoman went to the door and spoke to another policeman outside before coming back and sitting on the left-hand side of the bed. She took out a notepad.
Fiona’s attention returned to Caroline who was speaking. ‘When you didn’t call me, I got worried, so I called your phone. No answer. Well you know me; I began to call you every five minutes. That would have been enough to annoy anyone, even you.’ She forced a laugh, then continued, ‘When you still didn’t reply, I got Roger to drive me to Jane’s flat; the door was slightly open and you…’ Caroline stopped, swallowing hard, tears filling her eyes again, ‘… were crumpled on the floor…’ She covered her mouth with her hand and cried.
Fiona wanted to hold her hand, but the pain of moving was too much, so she whispered, ‘It’s…okay…’
Caroline cried some more.
A grey-haired doctor entered the room, followed by another man in a plain suit. Caroline moved away from the bed and the doctor checked the drips and machines connected to Fiona. He smiled gently at her, ‘You’re a lucky girl. You’ve taken quite a beating, but you’re going to be all right.’
Before Fiona could respond, the man in the suit appeared next to him. The man’s young, clean-shaven face peered over the doctor’s shoulder. ‘Can I question her now?’
The doctor shook his head, as he shone a light from a small torch into Fiona’s eyes.
‘The quicker we get some information about the person who did this, the quicker we can catch him,’ the young man said, urgently.
The doctor seemed annoyed, ‘She can hardly breathe let alone speak. She needs complete rest.’
‘But the longer we leave it the more chance he has of getting away,’ the young man said, edging closer.
Fiona grabbed the doctor’s coat with the thumb of her right hand. She wanted to tell them, wanted that PI and gorilla caught, but her body was too weak and it was so hard to talk. Why couldn’t they read minds?
The doctor leant towards her.
‘Harry,’ she whispered.
The doctor turned to the young man; Fiona assumed he was a detective. ‘She said, Harry.’
The detective looked at her blankly. ‘Who’s Harry? Is he the one who did this?’
Fiona shook her head and cried out as pain shot through to her eyes.
‘That’s enough,’ the doctor said, easing the detective away from the bed.
Caroline stepped closer. ‘Is it Harry from your work, Fiona?’
Fiona mouthed the word, “Yes”.
Caroline’s eyes widened. ‘Oh my God, was it that PI?’
Fiona confirmed, so pleased that she had told Caroline her story.
Caroline turned quickly to the detective. ‘I think I know what Fiona is trying to say. Harry works on the reception at her work and saw the guy who did this to her. He can give you a description and I can tell you the details Fiona told me.’
‘Please can you do this outside,’ the doctor pleaded as he prepared an injection.
Fiona caught Caroline’s cardigan with her thumb and when Caroline drew closer, she whispered, ‘I… need…your…phone…’ Despite being exhausted and having pain in every part of her body, Fiona knew she needed to contact Jane. She needed to warn her, they were coming.
Caroline looked at her, as the doctor approached, then said softly, ‘I’ll come back, you rest now.’
‘No…please…’ Fiona’s plea slipped away unheard and she felt completely helpless as the doctor gave her the sedative. Tears stung her eyes, for she realised that as she slept, it would be too late for Jane and Mark.