Chapter Fifteen

Darkened souls

Charles drove home in a trance, his mind elsewhere as his body went through the motions of changing gears and turning the steering wheel. The fact that he had not found Laurie made his stomach churn at the fearful notion of what could have happened to her. On more than one occasion he had to suppress the urge to wretch. He continually tried to console himself with the fragile theory that Laurie was fine and now back at her apartment. Perhaps she had never really been shot, perhaps a car had backfired and she had mistaken the sound, fallen and hurt herself. It was plausible but Charles didn’t believe it for a second.

So lost was he in his thoughts, Charles failed to notice as he brought the car to a standstill on his drive that the lights within his home were now on, making the building stand apart from the other houses on the street, as it was the only one with illuminated windows. His wealthy neighbours were lost to slumber, dreaming up ways to expand their various empires or how to reign in their over-privileged children.

Standing there in suburbia, Charles questioned why he had even returned to the place which had never felt like home. He would find no rest within its walls, no solace in the arms of his wife. He needed to be with Laurie. He should have gone to her apartment, but he had earlier realised guiltily that he did not know where that was. He chastised himself for the oversight, aware that he should have endeavoured to find out months ago.

When he turned his key in the door and pushed it open, Charles finally noticed that all the downstairs lights were on.

‘Elaine?’ he called out in bemusement as he walked further into the house.

‘Honey?’ he shouted out for a second time when there was no response.

Shaking his head with confusion, Charles threw his keys onto the side board and removed his jacket. He imaged that Elaine had heard him leave and was now maddened and the lights being on was merely a precursor to her fury which she would surely unleash upon him. Normally, Charles would brace himself for the onslaught but not tonight. He was in no mood for a fight. He contemplated leaving there and then and heading to the nearest hotel for the night when a strange noise caught his attention. It sounded like a whimper.

‘Elaine?’ Charles called again, much louder this time, suddenly fearful that his wife had fallen and hurt herself and lay paralysed, waiting for his return. As much as he did not love the woman, he continued to care for her and he instinctively began to search through the various rooms on the first floor of the house.

She was not in the dining room, nor the lounge or the study. The lights were on in all of the rooms and Charles took a moment to switch each of them off as he left, before continuing with his search.

He opened the door to the kitchen, Elaine’s name upon his lips ready to be called out once more, when his mouth instead fell open in horrified shock at the sight which met him.

The kitchen was as it always had been. Dark pine units set against granite work surfaces. All the kitchen utensils were stainless steel and top of the range, yet Elaine rarely used them. The floor consisted of deep terracotta tiles which Charles had always been personally fond of, as they reminded him of a holiday he took to Italy when he was a young man.

But now there was a new, ghastly addition to the kitchen. One of the chairs from the small dinette table in the corner had been moved to the centre of the room, and upon it sat Laurie, bound and gagged.

The young girl looked up wearily at Charles, her eyes red and sore but lacking focus as though she had been drugged or had taken a severe blow to the head. Grey masking tape had been crudely strapped over her mouth, preventing any communication bar the whimpering sound which Charles had previously heard. A brown stain covered one side of her face, falling down to her coat – the remnants of the injury she had received from the gunshot. Laurie’s arms were bound behind her back and her legs were strapped to the chairlegs, rendering her completely trapped and unable to move even a fraction.

Charles felt tears prick at his eyes as he tried to overcome his shock and formulate words. He begun to run towards Laurie, to untie her, when he felt the cold cylinder of the barrel of a gun press itself against the back of his head. The Deputy Prime Minister froze and waited to be addressed by his unknown assailant.

‘Not a wise move to go and help her.’ Charles recognised the voice instantly. He turned in anger and stared at his wife, the gun now pointing between his eyes.

‘Elaine, what the hell is going on?’

Elaine Lloyd was perfectly still as she held the gun up to her husband as though she were made of stone. Her hair was immaculately styled as per usual. Her eyes were framed by fake eyelashes, her lips a dark shade of red. She bore no signs of a skirmish. Whoever had attacked Laurie, it had not been Elaine.

‘Where have you been at this late hour, sweetheart?’ There was more than a hint of mockery to Elaine’s voice as she asked the question. Frozen with uncertainty, Charles tried to gain perspective on the situation, struggling to understand what was unfolding before him.

‘Elaine, what are you doing?’ he asked, his voice now quieter, calmer. He recognised the gun she wielded in her hand. His security team had left it within his home in case of an emergency. It was usually locked away in a safe, hidden behind a portrait of a tranquil country field. Only he and his Head of Security knew the code to assess the safe, or so he had thought.

It was a handgun, shipped over from America. It boasted all of the latest technology; quick fire release and such, and operated with deadly efficiency. Charles had opted to store the gun loaded, in case when he needed it he had not the time to load the cartridge.

And now it was within Elaine’s hands. Despite her appearances as a housewife, Elaine Lloyd had grown up around guns. Her family loved nothing more than foxhunting and from a very young age, Elaine had been taught how to handle both a rifle and a shotgun. In her eagerness to keep up with her brothers, she would accompany them all out on hunts and made her first kill at the tender age of twelve. Little had her family known that they were actually training a potential killer.

On her fourteenth birthday Elaine had received the usual gifts which teenage girls are accustomed to; vinyl records of the latest bands, pretty clothes and make-up. But amongst these traditional presents was her very own rifle. Eager to use her new gift, Elaine took up pheasant, rabbit and pigeon shooting. She practiced with such regularity that she was soon a better markswoman than her brothers. Her mother lamented that it was an unladylike pursuit whilst her father beamed with pride, deep down silently pleased that, whatever mistakes his daughter made in life or wherever she ended up, she had the ability to defend herself, and if necessary, take another life.

So here Elaine Lloyd stood, gun in hand, the weight feeling familiar and comforting. She was a sharp shooter and Charles knew that even if he turned and ran there was no way that she would miss.

‘Goodness, you don’t look pleased to see me!’ Elaine remarked sarcastically.

‘Please, stop this,’ Charles pleaded helplessly, trapped beneath the aim of the gun.

Behind him, Laurie squirmed and the chair squeaked on the tiles.

‘Stop that!’ Elaine screamed, her gaze briefly glancing past her husband at the girl bound to the chair. ‘You’ll ruin my floor you little bitch!’

‘Elaine …’ Charles tried to address his wife again, attempting to fill his voice with false warmth which had clearly failed as she looked at him and scowled with contempt.

‘Just shut up!’ Tears had started to fall down Elaine’s cheeks as she yelled. For a moment a flash of hesitation crossed her features and Charles seized the opportunity.

‘Let Laurie go, she’s just a girl. Whatever is going on, we can work through this together. Nobody needs to get hurt.’ Charles tried to look Elaine directly in the eye but his gaze kept shifting to the gun in her hand, aware that it was still aimed at him.

‘Nobody needs to get hurt!’ Elaine scoffed angrily, the steely look of determination returning to her face. ‘What about me, Charles? Did you care when you were hurting me?’

‘Hurting you?’ the Deputy Prime Minister queried, bewildered.

‘Do you really think me so very stupid?’ His wife’s voice was now low and menacing.

Elaine walked past her husband, towards Laurie, and now placed the gun to the girl’s temple and relished at how she whimpered with fear.

‘Please, don’t hurt her!’ Charles begged.

Laurie could feel the cold of the metal pushing against her head with fervent intensity, no doubt leaving a mark. She imagined what would happen if Charles’ wife pulled the trigger; how her brains would splatter across the immaculate kitchen. She closed her eyes in anticipation for the end.

‘She’s done nothing wrong, let her go!’ Charles pleaded, assessing the room around him as he spoke, looking for something, anything with which he could attack his wife and gain control of the weapon she wielded.

‘I knew about the affair.’ The admission left Charles momentarily stunned. He had always assumed that Elaine was oblivious to what had transpired with Lorna. He was careful to conceal his tracks, or so he had thought.

‘Listen …’ Charles attempted to seize the opportunity to explain but his wife interrupted him.

‘How could I not have known?’ she asked, a desperate sadness creeping in to her voice.

‘You stopped loving me a long time ago, I know that, but I never thought for one minute that you would love another. That you could betray our vows like that.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Charles admittedly earnestly, hanging his head in shame.

‘I heard the whispers from your office but I didn’t want to believe them. I didn’t want to think that my husband could cheat. And then I became invisible to you so I knew it had to be true.’

‘Elaine …’ It suddenly dawned on Charles just how much damage his actions had caused to everyone within his life, but he was adamant that Laurie would not pay for his mistakes. She was innocent.

‘You’re not the only one with contacts,’ Elaine snapped angrily, still holding the gun to Laurie’s temple.

‘I hired an investigator, had him follow you around. I needed evidence and he gave it to me. You were so careless, Charles, sharing hotel rooms with the little slut. You risked everything and I went to great lengths to stop the truth coming out.’

Elaine now turned to look at Laurie, who looked up at her from behind terrified eyes like a rabbit in the middle of the road gazing into the headlights of the car which was about to drive over it, crushing its tiny body and sending its soul in to oblivion.

‘She was going to sell her story, your whore of a sister was. She was going to ruin everything Charles and I had worked for.’

‘What does that matter now?’ Charles queried, hoping to distract her and lure her away from Laurie.

‘She had to be silenced; I couldn’t let her destroy our legacy.’

‘Silenced?’ Charles echoed as the implications of the word became frighteningly apparent.

‘People will do anything for money,’ Elaine explained coldly. ‘They will drain the brake fluid from a car and then ensure that the police investigation fails to notice anything untoward.’

Bound to the chair and coloured with her own blood, Laurie silently wept. She had at last found the answer she was so desperately seeking, but it appeared that she would have to forfeit her own life in exchange. But it meant so much to her to know that Lorna had not killed herself; that she had not left her.

‘You killed her?’ Charles uttered in disbelief. ‘You killed Lorna?’

‘I personally didn’t,’ Elaine explained with inappropriate casualness. ‘Her car killed her; I just ensured that it would. She was going to the tabloids, Charles. She would have ruined everything. You would have been left with nothing.’

‘She didn’t deserve to die!’ Charles cried in anger, feeling sick at the revelation. He had been partly responsible for her death. He should have been more careful or taken more notice of Elaine and perhaps he would have seen the signs that she had known of the affair all along.

‘I did what I had to.’ There was no regret or remorse in Elaine’s voice, only cold acceptance. ‘I watched you mourn your mistress and my anger only grew. After everything I have done for you, everything I have sacrificed, how could you love her?’

‘You’ve sacrificed nothing,’ Charles spat bitterly, no longer caring if she turned the gun on him and fired, he already felt dead inside. ‘I gave you everything you’ve ever wanted; wealth, fame. You killed Lorna because you were afraid of what you would lose. You are nothing but a self-centred bitch who deserves to be left with nothing.’

‘Now, now Charles, watch your tone. Remember who has the gun,’ Elaine said in a patronising voice.

‘Had I known the little witch had a double,’ Elaine’s attention returned to Laurie, ‘I would have sorted her out long ago.’ She removed the gun from the girl’s temple and swiftly smacked it against her cheek, leaving a bright red mark and a bloodied nose before aiming the weapon once more at her husband.

Laurie’s face burnt from the impact, pain searing across her left cheek. She wondered if the blow had broken the bone.

‘I knew when your mood lifted that something must have happened,’ Elaine continued to explain, as Charles squirmed awkwardly beneath the barrel of the gun. ‘It didn’t take me long to uncover the source of your jubilation. Faye sings like a canary when you offer her a possible promotion. Ambition isn’t always a good thing.’

Elaine found herself smiling. She had spent months plotting how to enact revenge upon her husband for his indiscretions, whilst at the same time removing any anomalies which could usurp his position as Deputy Prime Minister. She relished how her plans were now coming into fruition. Soon it would all be over, and, in time Charles would thank her for what she did and realise just how much she loved him.

‘I hired a shooter to follow her home. Faye kindly held her back at work for me without asking questions. I was hoping to make it appear like she had been mugged. But when you left the house so suddenly, I realised they must have missed and that you were running to little bitch’s aid like some lovestruck teenager. One call and some of my contacts kindly bustled her into a van for me and bought her here. Did you like the text I sent you?’

Charles grimaced as he recalled the message and how he had thought it uncharacteristic of Laurie. He should have immediately sensed that something was wrong.

‘Don’t hurt her,’ Charles pleaded. ‘Her family have already lost one daughter; don’t make them suffer the loss of another.’

‘Fuck her family!’ Elaine screamed passionately, her voice cracking from the pain contained within it. ‘At least they’ve had children. They’ve watched them grow, nurtured them. Any pain they suffer now will be consoled by the love they once knew. How can you pity them but not me?’

‘Because we didn’t need children,’ Charles explained, still searching the surrounding area with his eyes for something he could use to distract Elaine long enough for him to overpower her and get the gun. ‘We were …’

‘Happy?’ Elaine finished for the sentence for him and then laughed. ‘We were many things Charles but we were never happy and I accepted that. I supported you and, in return, you gave me security. What we had, it wasn’t conventional but it worked. We can get it all back, our life. This whole episode needs only to be a bump in the road. With her gone, we can concentrate on us.’

Elaine now placed the gun at the back of Laurie’s head, pushing the barrel through her blonde mane until it connected with her scalp. Charles looked at her frightened eyes and felt disgustingly helpless.

‘Even now you gaze at her like a lovesick puppy!’ Elaine declared venomously. ‘As long as she lives, so does the love you had for her sister.’

‘Don’t!’ Charles cried as the sound of a gunshot splintered the air of the kitchen.

Laurie felt the warm blood splash against her and grimaced. Charles watched in horror as Elaine fell back against the floor with a sickening thud. The point where a bullet had connected with her upper chest collapsed in to a dark red cavern, oozing crimson liquid out on to the terracotta tiles. Elaine’s body trembled from the shock, her legs giving out a few meagre twitches. Charles felt compelled to go to her but he could not move for fear that the unknown assailant might deliver a second deadly shot, but this time for him.

He looked on helplessly as Elaine shook a bit more before becoming deathly still. It took a second for his instincts to kick in and then he was over by Laurie, ripping the tape from over her mouth and releasing her limbs from their constraints.

When the tape came off her mouth Laurie gasped and greedily drank in the air around her. She looked up uncertainly, and Charles readied himself for what she was about to say but her gaze drifted past him to the doorway to the kitchen.

‘Artie,’ she whispered. Charles turned to find a tall young man with a slender frame on the periphery of the kitchen area, a shotgun now hanging down by his side, the ramifications of what he had just done beginning to twist his youthful features.

‘Artie,’ Laurie said again as she tentatively rose to her feet and tried to run over to the young man. She pressed her aching body against Arthur’s and realised that he smelt of home.

Arthur held the girl he loved tightly and planted a gentle kiss upon her head.

‘I came to see you, and when you weren’t at your apartment late at night I got worried and headed over to your offices. That’s when I saw you get dragged into a white van and I knew something must be wrong. I just assumed that you would come here.’

‘How did you know where I lived?’ Charles asked accusingly, standing back awkwardly from the young couple, feeling alienated in his own home.

‘I followed you,’ Arthur answered simply.

‘That’s impossible!’

‘Telling a cab driver to follow another car isn’t so hard. I’ve been tracking you since Downing Street. You really should learn to be more discreet.’ Arthur shrugged modestly and then tightened his embrace of Laurie.

‘You saved me,’ Laurie whispered in to his chest.

‘That’s my job.’

Charles skulked away, remorseful that it was not his arms in which Laurie was now seeking comfort. He wandered over to Elaine and knelt down beside her. Her eyes were wide and lifeless with fear and so he carefully closed her eyelids, sealing her forever more in darkness. His first thought was how angry Elaine would have been about the state of her kitchen and Charles realised in that moment just how much he would miss her wife. He looked over at Arthur, the shotgun now on the floor beside him, no longer needed. Charles knew he was not blameless in all of this; he may as well have pulled the trigger himself. But Laurie was safe. That was the main thing.

The Deputy Prime Minister noticed how Laurie pulled away from the man in whose arms she stood and smiled up warmly at him. Charles recognised the expression well for it was the same one Lorna kept reserved for him. A familiar ache tugged on his heart as he thought on how he would never get to hold Lorna again, but the pain had dulled from its original intensity.

Laurie at last pulled herself away from Arthur and came over to Charles.

‘Your wife,’ she said softly, not daring to glance down at the fresh corpse on the floor. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s alright,’ Charles replied and he knew that it really was. ‘She would have killed you had … Artie not shown up.’

‘Arthur is my boyfriend from home,’ Laurie explained and behind her Arthur beamed at the introduction, relieved to have finally been reinstated as her romantic interest.

‘I’m sorry about what happened, about all of it. About Lorna.’ Charles felt pitiful to have only words to console Laurie. ‘You have every reason to hate me.’

‘I could never hate you.’ Laurie moved forward and hugged Charles, resting her head upon his chest. He looked down and drank in her scent. Even through the blood and sweat he could smell the sweet floral notes which he had associated with Lorna.

‘My sister loved you very much,’ she said solemnly, looking up at Charles. ‘You should know that.’

‘Thank you, that means a lot.’

Charles held Laurie and for a moment he let himself pretend that it was Lorna, that they were locked in their final embrace. He tried to burn the sensation onto his brain so that he could revisit it until the end of his days. This was the goodbye he had for so long yearned for.

‘I’ll never forget what you’ve done.’ Tears glistened on Laurie’s bloodied cheeks as she spoke.

‘You gave me the truth about Lorna. Now I know that she didn’t commit suicide, I can let her rest in peace.’

‘Yes, perhaps we will both be able to let her go now.’

‘Laurie,’ Arthur called from behind them. ‘We need to go.’

The petite blonde glanced up at the Deputy Prime Minister and smiled sadly.

‘Parting is such sweet sorrow,’ she quoted, to which Charles nodded knowingly. ‘What will you tell the police?’

Charles glanced at Elaine, silent and at peace. ‘I’ll think of something,’ he assured the couple. ‘Now go home and live your life with twice the tenacity of before, because now you are living for Lorna also.’

‘I’ll never forget you.’

‘Nor I you.’

Arthur came and took Laurie’s hand and guided her out of the kitchen and out of Charles’ life.

***

‘This is Tracy Hancock reporting for BBC news,’ the young brunette reporter addressed the camera, trying to conceal her excitement about the huge story which had unfolded over the last hour, which the station had decided she could lead on. She was about to deliver the report which would make her entire career and her heart raced with anticipation.

Only forty minutes earlier, she had been awoken by a frantic phone call instructing her to assemble a crew and immediately head over to the Deputy Prime Minister’s house on the outskirts of London. Bemused, she had complied with the orders, wondering what had transpired during the night to warrant her leaving the comfort of her bed at three in the morning.

‘I’m reporting live from outside Charles Lloyd’s home,’ she informed the viewers. Around her a media circus had already set up as various new stations clamoured to deliver what would be the news story of the decade. Amongst the cameras, local police and specialist officers weaved their way in and out of the house with severe looks of concern plastered across their faces.

‘Earlier this morning, an unknown intruder broke in to the Deputy Prime Minister’s home and shot and killed his wife, Elaine Lloyd, in cold blood. Police are already on the scene as a country wakes up and tries to make sense of such a wicked, merciless act.’

There was a sudden surge of activity as Charles left the house, flanked by policeman. He kept his eyes to the ground as he was ushered to the waiting Bentley. He was whiter than the cliffs of Dover, clearly shaken by the sudden tragedy which had befallen him.

‘Known for her ample charity work, Elaine was a much-loved public figure, who will be sadly missed,’ Tracy continued. She imaged people at home waking up and switching on their television sets to receive her dramatic news. The image of the heartbroken Deputy Prime Minister would soon go global and within less than an hour, the entire world would know of what had transpired.

Charles watched his home grow smaller in the rear view mirror of the car, relieved to be leaving the sudden influx of journalists who were constantly growing in numbers. Elaine would be remembered as a martyr which was exactly what she would have wanted.