The day I went missing
Part 5
The back of my head aches, a pain shoots down my neck and I let out a small cry. I’m hot despite the cold draft on my skin, and my bones feel bruised and sore.
‘Easy,’ a voice says.
I’m lying down. My hands feel across a rough wooden floor, bits of dirt and old sawdust cling to my fingernails as I try and open my eyes. My head’s propped up against something soft but firm, like a folded dustsheet or heavy blanket. When I open my eyes, a man is looking down at me. His hand shoots across my mouth before I can cry with pain.
‘I need you to please be quiet and let me explain,’ he says, but he doesn’t remove his hand.
There’s so much I recognise in him. His eyes are blue and wild like mine, his hair a soft blonde. I try to place him, my eyes desperately searching his, but there’s a force behind him, and he presses down like he means it. It’s the size of him that winds me, the sheer brutishness of his heavy hands, the weight he carries in his shoulders as he eases slightly.
He is the man I saw in the coffee shop, the man who sat watching me in his van outside the office. I try to wriggle free, but he just presses down harder, covering my nostrils, so I can barely breathe.
‘I mean it,’ he says. ‘I need you to understand what I’m saying, but I can’t let go unless you’re quiet.’
I try to nod, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me. But his eyes drift away, he doesn’t have a choice. He lifts his hand and rubs it against his thigh, unable to look at me. I’m in the back of the van, and I see a coil of blue rope and duct tape lying to my left.
I glance at the van doors, trying to see the handle hidden behind him. Could I get out? His forearms are as thick and he moves them knowingly, stretching out either side of him. He listens carefully outside until he relaxes slightly. He falls backwards, his large body covering the doors.
‘Don’t try it,’ he says.
I struggle to prop myself up, and when I look down I’m covered in mud, wet leaves stuck to my stomach and neck, my jeans soaked and my coat ripped up the arm. I clutch my head. He must have carried me back. I fell, didn’t I? Why couldn’t I have just stayed silent? I could have hidden, he would never have found me, but I ran, because I couldn’t be still, like I struggle to be still now. Every part of me wants to run at him, to try and overpower him, to get out.
‘I need to explain to you very quickly what’s going to happen.’ He crouches in front of me. ‘These people that you fucked with are the worst people imaginable and, Katy, believe me when I tell you they are untouchable.’
‘Who are you?’ I say, quietly.
He licks his lips, almost wounded by the way I spoke to him, that I even spoke at all. He goes to reply, but stops, considering every word.
‘I work for Mark. I’ve been hired to kill you.’ He says it so plainly, like it’s a direction he’s giving to a passerby, and he swiftly moves on. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, Katy, but you need to disappear, for ever. They need to believe you’re dead. No one can ever know that you’re still alive. I’m going to drop you at a vehicle one hour from here. You are not to contact anybody. The vehicle has documents for a whole new identity. You are not Katy anymore. You are to drive to a cottage in Yorkshire and await further instructions. Do you understand?’
‘I… My mum, no, I have evidence. I—’
‘Evidence? Are you not listening to me? You can’t go to the police, you are dead. Do you understand, this is over for you? And if they find out you’re alive they’ll go for everyone you love, they will destroy you.’ He reaches back to open the door. ‘I need you to say you understand.’
‘I can’t disappear,’ I say.
‘You have to, there’s no other choice in this, otherwise you will die.’
‘Why are you doing this?’
He looks at me, wondering whether to tell me the truth or not.
‘I’ll never see you again, so I guess it doesn’t matter.’
‘When can I come back?’
‘You can’t.’
I shake my head. ‘No.’
He slams his hand against the back of the van and pauses for a moment, before searching his pocket; he brings out a phone and credit card wrapped in a Ziploc bag and slides it across the van floor.
‘In case of emergencies, there’s one number in there. There will be money transferred into the account, enough to live on, don’t worry.’
I bend slowly to pick it up and he lunges forward to grip my wrist, his eyes wide and frightened. ‘The phone is only for emergencies, do you understand?’ He hesitates. ‘In case they find you.’
‘Please tell me why you’re doing this?’
He lets go and swings open the back doors, holding up a finger to his lips.
‘Stay quiet until we get there. After that, you’re on your own.’