There was a moment, after Ed locked Ursula, Simon and Lynne in the office so he and Alice could search the shop for stragglers, when Ursula thought they might be able to escape. There was no laptop or landline in the cramped room because Ed made Lynne remove them before he locked them inside. He also gathered up everyone’s bags and mobile phones. He called Ursula a liar when she told him hers had been stolen by a man who’d barged into their house searching for his wife and child. It was only when she described the inside of Ed’s room that his expression changed.
‘You can pat me down if you don’t believe me,’ she said, raising her bound arms above her head.
He grimaced – ‘I’d rather not’ – and ordered her into the office.
As the lock turned outside she and Simon headed straight for the narrow window. They were two storeys up and there were people milling around on the pavement below. If they could just open it, they could shout for help.
‘Don’t bother,’ Lynne said miserably as Ursula pulled at the handle. ‘He made me lock it. He’s got the key.’
Simon suggested they try and smash the glass with the office chair but his hands were bound and it took him forever just to pick it up. Even when he did manage to lift it, his awkward throw was so feeble the chair bounced off the pane. They tried hitting the glass then, smashing their fists against it and shouting, but it was double glazed and the people on the street below didn’t so much as glance up.
They were still trying to decide what to do when the key turned in the lock and a terrified-looking woman in a beautician’s uniform told them to come out. For one wonderful second Ursula thought they’d been rescued, but then she noticed that the woman’s hands were bound too. As she filed out of the office with Simon and Lynne she saw a short man with a goatee standing beside a crying young girl. They both had their hands tied with tape.
Standing at the far side of the staff changing room, with one arm around Alice’s throat and the knife pressed into her cheek, was Edward.
‘It turns out Alice was lying,’ he announced to the room. ‘Which is a shame … for her. Now that we’re all assembled, let’s make our way out on to the shop floor. The show is about to begin.’
Ursula, sitting cross-legged against a wall, has Gareth on one side of her and Simon on the other. Sitting beside Simon is Lynne with her head in her hands, then Kath with her daughter weeping beside her. Standing between the racks of clothes, with one arm still around Alice’s neck and the knife pressed under her jaw like some kind of macabre puppeteer, is Ed.
His gaze rests on Simon.
‘You’re not the big man now, are you, eh?’
Ursula feels Simon stiffen.
‘Nothing to say? Cat got your tongue? Or maybe you only talk shit when you’re on the radio? Or is Twitter your new favourite way to express yourself? You’re fucking listening now, though, aren’t you?’
When Simon still doesn’t respond, Ed tilts the knife so the tip of the blade presses into the soft flesh under Alice’s chin, making her shriek. The right arm of her blouse is drenched in blood and her face is pale and clammy. She looks on the verge of passing out.
‘Stop!’ Gareth says, making Ursula jump. ‘Ed. That’s your name, right? Whatever your problem is with Simon we can sort it out without anyone getting hurt.’
‘Ha.’ Ed laughs dryly. ‘Trained in hostage negotiation, are you? When I want a washed-up security guard to speak I’ll ask you. You’ll keep your mouth shut if you’ve got any sense.’ His gaze flicks back towards Simon. ‘And you’d better start talking if you want this to end.’
‘Okay … okay. I’m talking.’ Simon’s shoulder knocks against Ursula’s as he shifts position. ‘What is it you want?’
‘I want you to stand up, open the window behind you and jump.’
‘Why?’
‘Please,’ Kath says from the end of the row. ‘Just let my daughter go. She’s got nothing to do with this and you’re really scaring—’
‘We can all go home once Simon does what he’s told,’ Ed snaps. ‘What’s it to be then, Si?’
‘I … you can’t … I don’t know why you’re doing this. I don’t know what I’m supposed to have done.’
‘Don’t you?’ Ed snorts. ‘That doesn’t surprise me. How many people’s lives have you ruined, Simon? How many people have killed themselves because of your practical jokes? Any idea? One? Ten? Fifty? Any idea, or don’t you care?’
Ursula sneaks a sideways glance at Simon. His blond hair is slicked with sweat at the temples and a tendon is pulsing in his cheek.
‘I … I … I don’t know … I don’t know of any. I never … I never meant to hurt anyone. I didn’t—’
‘I’d say one was enough, wouldn’t you?’
Ursula sees Alice’s horrified eyes flick towards Simon.
‘I’m sorry,’ Simon says. ‘Whatever it is you think I’ve done … if I’d have known … if someone had told me I’d—’
‘You’d have done what? Invented a time machine? Rewound time so my brother didn’t kill himself? So you didn’t ring him on your show to claim you found rat droppings in your soup?’
Simon’s expression changes.
‘Ah, so you do remember. In which case you’ll also remember that he lost his shit with you down the phone. He told you you’d find worse than rat droppings in your soup if you ever visited the restaurant again. That it wouldn’t be the first time he’d got his revenge on a customer by—’
‘I didn’t … I wouldn’t—’
‘Don’t interrupt me! Any idea how much trade dropped off after that? How rumours went around Bristol to avoid the Fattened Calf because they had a poor hygiene record? How my brother was sacked when he was just on the verge of getting a Michelin star? How he couldn’t get a job anywhere else so he had to work in a fucking service station kitchen? How he couldn’t even bring himself to cook at home any more? Do you have any idea what that did to him? Do you? Of course not. You didn’t give it a second thought because, to you, it was just a prank. Ha fucking ha.’
As Ed continues to rant, Ursula watches with horror as his grip tightens around Alice’s neck. She’s lost so much blood she’s gone limp in his arms. Ursula feels a wave of panic course through her. Ed’s not going to let any of them out of there until he gets what he wants.
‘I know what it feels like to lose someone,’ she says.
Ed’s gaze swivels from Simon to her, his eyes small and dark beyond the glint of his glasses. ‘Did I ask you to speak?’
‘No.’ She shifts position, from her bum to her knees, her bound hands held out in front of her. ‘No, you didn’t. But I understand … Ed, I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love.’
‘Sit down,’ Ed snaps as she struggles to her feet. Ursula ignores him. A strange, tense silence falls on the rest of the group as though they’re all holding their breath.
‘I lost the love of my life,’ she says as she slowly steps towards her housemate. ‘He was beaten to death and instead of helping him fight, I ran away.’
Ed shrugs, unmoved.
‘No, you don’t care, do you?’ Ursula says. ‘But you cared about your brother. That’s what all this is about, isn’t it?’ She’s less than a metre away from him now, her palms are sticky and she’s sweating beneath her thick coat. ‘You want Simon to hurt as much as you hurt. But it won’t help you. I looked the men who killed Nathan in the eye. I testified against them and helped them get sent to prison for a very long time. I thought it would help. I thought I’d feel better. But it didn’t. Nathan’s still dead and he’s never coming back.’
‘Sit down.’
A bead of sweat rolls down Ursula’s back as she holds out her bound hands. ‘Give me the knife.’ The sharp crack of Edward’s laughter makes her jump, but she keeps her hand outstretched.
‘Killing Simon isn’t going to bring your brother back.’
‘No, but at least Simon will be dead.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Ursula says. ‘I’m sorry you lost your brother. I’m sorry you’re in so much pain.’
For several seconds Ed doesn’t say a word. His eyes grow soft and misty beneath the hard sheen of his glasses and the tension in Ursula’s chest eases. She’s getting through to him. All he needed was for someone to tell him that they understood.
‘Is it Nick?’ she asks. ‘Your brother? His name’s carved into the windowsill in my room.’
Ed nods.
‘He wouldn’t want you to do this. He wouldn’t want Simon to die or for you to go to prison.’
‘How do you …’ Ed’s voice breaks and he swallows ‘… how do you know?’
‘Because he sounds like he was a good person.’
Ed says nothing, but his eyes don’t leave hers. She’s getting through to him, she can feel it.
‘Give me the knife, Ed,’ she says softly. ‘Please. For Nick.’
Edward stifles a sob and, as he lowers the knife from Alice’s throat, Ursula’s heart leaps. He’s going to do it. He’s going to give her the knife. She leans towards him, reaching for it, the muscles in her arms tensed and straining.
‘You’re doing the right thing,’ she whispers.
The force of Ed’s laughter is like a punch to the gut and she recoils, her hands pressed to her belly.
‘Really, Ursula? Really? I’m sorry. I can’t keep it up. It’s too funny.’
‘But …’ she stares at him, unable to reconcile the twisted smile on his face with the look of utter devastation she witnessed just seconds ago ‘… but what about your brother?’
Edward laughs again as he returns the blade of the knife to Alice’s throat. ‘Nick was the arsehole who squatted in my spare room. You put two and two together and made “doesn’t actually exist”. There is no brother. There was no suicide.’
‘What?’
‘I made it all up. I thought it would be fun to see who’d feel sorry for me, and you fell for it. Honestly, Ursula, I thought you were cleverer than that.’
Ursula stares down at him, too shocked to speak. He’s completely lost the plot. ‘I don’t. I don’t understand.’
‘There is no brother. I’m the chef Simon rang, you stupid bint. Now, sit down. You’re spoiling my fun. Sit … down,’ Ed says again and she retreats, stepping backwards, her eyes not leaving his face until someone touches the back of her calf and guides her back to her spot on the floor. She told him about Nathan. She opened her heart and he laughed in her face.
Simon, beside her, sits up taller. As he moves, something sharp digs into Ursula’s side. ‘So it was you,’ he says to Edward. ‘You were the head chef at the Fattened Calf that I rang. Or is that bullshit too?’
‘What was bullshit was what you did to me. You ruined my career. In one single phone call you destroyed everything I’d worked for since I was sixteen and you did it all in the name of entertainment. And you never apologised. Not you, not the station. No one. You couldn’t have given two shits. But I’m done talking. On with the show. Seeing as Simon is such a reluctant player it seems as though I’m going to have to add to the cast.’
Ursula hears the note of warning in Ed’s voice and looks up.
‘You.’ He points to Kath. ‘Get your kid to open the window above Simon. If she even thinks about shouting for help I’ll push her out myself.’
‘No. Not Georgia.’ Kath tightens her grip on her daughter, pulling her head into her shoulder. ‘I’ll do it.’
‘Are you going to make me repeat myself?’
‘It’s too high. She won’t be able to reach.’
‘There are stools over there.’ Ed inclines his head towards the shoe racks. ‘Use one.’
‘No.’ Georgia starts to cry. ‘No, Mum, I don’t want to. Mum, please, I’m scared.’
As Edward shouts at her to shut up, Ursula runs her hand over the sharp object that jabbed itself into her as Simon shifted position. There’s something in the pocket of her coat. Something hard and sharp that she stole from her landlord a few days ago. Gareth glances at her as she twists to one side, wincing as she wriggles her bound hands into her pocket. Her fingers close around the dart and she awkwardly eases it out. He nudges her.
‘Give it to me.’
Ursula shakes her head and clumsily slides the dart behind her to the small patch of flooring between her bum and the wall.
‘Please,’ Gareth hisses as Georgia slowly walks past them, a clothes rail wobbling under the weight of her footsteps as she heads for the stools. ‘I can do this.’
Ursula shakes her head again, but Gareth reaches behind her before she can stop him, and when she feels for the dart it’s gone.
No one says a word as a sobbing Georgia clambers onto the stool and reaches for the catch at the base of the window. When the frame swings out Ursula holds her breath, willing the girl not to speak. Distant sounds drift into the shop – sirens, traffic horns and the rumble of a bus or truck – but Georgia doesn’t say a word as she steps down and runs straight back to her mum.
Edward nods at Simon. ‘Off you go.’
A muscle pulses in Simon’s jaw as he slowly gets to his feet.
‘Simon!’ Alice gasps. ‘Simon, no!’
Ursula glances at Gareth, her palms sticky on the cold wooden floor. If he attacks Edward with the dart now, with the blade of the knife held under Alice’s chin, she could be dead before he even gets close. She coughs lightly to try and get Gareth’s attention but he doesn’t so much as flinch. There’s only one person everyone’s focused on and that’s the man with the knife in his hand.
‘Time to jump, to entertain the plebs for the last time.’ Edward stares at Simon and tilts his head in the direction of the window. ‘What’s a little public humiliation between friends?’
‘No,’ Simon says. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
A wry smile plays on Edward’s lips. ‘You mustn’t have heard me. I told you to jump.’
Simon opens his arms wide. ‘You’ve got the knife. If you want me dead I’m here. Or do you always hide behind women?’
Edward’s laughter rings out in the room. ‘You must think I’m stupid. Get on that fucking stool.’
‘No.’
Ursula holds her breath as he takes a step towards Edward. Simon’s an arsehole. It’s Alice’s life he’s playing with, not his.
‘Stay where you are,’ Ed says, ‘or I’ll cut her throat.’
‘You’re not going to do that. You want me dead, not her.’
‘Doesn’t matter to me either way. She’s a liar like you.’ Ed’s eyes glitter behind the circular frames of his glasses. He presses the knife deeper into Alice’s chin, which makes her groan and tip back her head. ‘If she dies you’ll spend the rest of your life blaming yourself. And if you die then …’ He shrugs. ‘Either way, I win.’
‘Don’t do it, Simon,’ Alice says, her voice little more than a whisper.
‘No?’ Ed tilts his head to one side. ‘Are you sure about that Alice? Because if he jumps I’ll let you have your mobile phone back. You can ring your daughter, warn her not to drink the bottle of wine I left on your doorstep.’
Simon frowns. ‘What bottle of wine?’
‘My little back-up plan, in case you didn’t show up here. Well, when I say “wine” it’s ninety-eight percent wine. The other two per cent isn’t going to give you a headache when you wake up the next morning. Mostly because you won’t wake up at all.’
‘Emily!’ Alice cries as she struggles to get out of Edward’s grip, her bloodied fingers striping the skin of his forearm. ‘She’ll drink it! Simon, she’ll drink it!’
‘Still think he shouldn’t jump?’ Edward asks, pressing the tip of the knife back into her cheek. ‘If he does I’ll give you your phone back. You can ring her, or 999. Either way it’s not too late. Not yet anyway.’
Alice suddenly becomes very still, her gaze fixed on Simon’s face.
‘Who do you choose?’ Ed asks. ‘Your daughter or your boyfriend?’
‘No.’ She shakes her head lightly. ‘No, no.’
‘Your daughter or your boyfriend. Who’s going to die?’
‘It’s okay, Alice,’ Simon says softly. ‘It’s okay.’
Ed’s smile widens. ‘Are you going to choose for her then?’
As Simon falters, Ursula becomes aware of Alice staring at her. Alice blinks slowly and deliberately then her gaze flicks towards Ursula’s feet and she blinks again. Her eyes travel to the broken clothes rail. Another blink. The dart in Gareth’s clenched hand. Blink. A sideways glance towards Ed’s stomach. As she blinks for the fifth time Ursula inhales sharply. She understands what she’s telling her to do.
Ursula gently nudges Gareth, indicating with her eyes that he should look at Alice.
As his eyes swivel towards her, Alice does it again. She looks at Ursula’s feet, blinks, the clothes rail, blinks, Gareth’s hand, blinks and then Edward’s stomach. Gareth’s brow wrinkles with confusion then he raises his eyebrows as what he’s seeing sinks in.
‘No?’ Ed says, still focused on Simon. ‘You’re not going to do the valiant thing? Ah, fuck it. I’ll choose. Sorry, Alice. You and your daughter are both dead.’
Everything happens in the blink of an eye. Ursula kicks out at the clothes rail, Ed loosens his grip on Alice’s neck as it crashes to the ground, and Gareth barrels towards him, head down and arms spread wide. As he buries the dart under Ed’s ribs, Alice twists free. A split second later the two men tumble to the ground. Gareth’s on top, his knees either side of Ed’s hips. He leans his weight into Ed’s left shoulder and reaches for the knife in his outstretched right hand. Ursula holds her breath as Gareth’s fingers creep nearer and nearer her landlord’s wrist. Just a few more centimetres and he’ll smash Ed’s hand against the floor and release the knife. Gareth grunts in frustration. He can’t quite get there. He’s heavier than Ed but they’re similar heights and Ed’s more supple. He’s holding the knife just out of reach. Gareth shifts to his left, gritting his teeth as his fingers slide along Ed’s right arm. As he inches closer he has no choice but to release the pressure on Edward’s left shoulder.
BAM! The heel of Ed’s hand smashes into Gareth’s chin. He reels back, arms whirling, but he doesn’t move from Ed’s hips. As Gareth shakes his head sharply, still reeling from the blow, Ed sits up, the knife glinting as he angles it towards Gareth’s chest. Screams fill the shop as Gareth grabs Edward’s wrist then the two men tip to the side as they wrestle for control of the knife. There’s a tangle of arms and legs as they twist and thrash and pant and grunt, the blade hidden between their locked bodies. Then there’s blood. More blood than Ursula has ever seen.