An animal to be observed.
I see you now, as you check your phone for messages or a missed call. Again.
You have none. I’ve already checked.
And you’re panicking now. I can see the fear written all across your face.
That’s what happens when you go digging, Rebecca. You find stuff you don’t want to see.
You try to stand, but it’s all too much for you. Now you know your sordid secret is out.
I’m almost sad that I won’t get to watch you carrying out your routine tonight. I won’t be able to smirk as you repeatedly check all the windows and doors, pulling at the handles and wriggling the locks. Dragging the curtains across and blinds down as if you’re trying to keep the dark night outside from seeping in.
As if you’re trying to keep me out.
You won’t carry me with you as you make the way to your bedroom and place me down on your bedside cabinet as you stand oblivious to me watching. Undressing, naked, your clothes slipping to the floor, before you slide into bed and pull the covers up around you.
I watch you now, as your eyes roll in your head and your legs give way, smiling as I watch you slam, unconscious, onto the floor.
There’s one thing you haven’t accounted for, my sweet Rebecca.
You can’t keep somebody out when they’re already inside.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I’m back there again. Inside the car. With you.
I recall the shock as you lash out and hit me. Hard.
And oh, the pain. As the ball of your chunky fist connects with my eye socket and the white hot, blinding agony of the blow explodes inside my skull.
I bite down on my lip, determined not to let out the strangled yelp that despite my stubbornness still manages to escape my throat, involuntarily, as my head flings back and smacks against the cool firm leather headrest behind me.
We veer off the road then, temporarily immobilised as my foot slips from the accelerator and I slump back in the driver’s seat, my grip on the steering wheel loosening.
We mount the grass verge at the side the road and the car starts to twist and spin. Skidding out of control as we glide across the grassy bank, before I pull the car back onto the narrow dirt track.
‘Fuck!’ I scream. Snapping out of my daze, my reflexes take over, fuelled by adrenaline and my sudden need to survive.
But all I can hear is your voice ringing loudly out in my ears. Echoing round and round inside my brain.
And all I can feel is the pain.
My head is throbbing.
And I’m not sure what is hurting me the most? Your thunderous bellowing or the sharp sting of the blow which has blurred my vision.
Blinking hard, I shake my head. I look ahead, and wonder when the night sky opened up and started to chuck out sheets of treacherous, ferocious rain?
The rain is even heavier now, obscuring my vision even more.
The windscreen wipers can’t keep up, sliding hypnotically across the glass, the momentum creating a loud monotonous swooshing noise.
Not loud enough to drown out the sound of your voice though.
And we’re hurtling now.
It doesn’t help that the light from the main road has gone now that we’ve made our way onto a deserted country lane. The last of the daylight has rapidly dwindled into nothing as we pelt faster. Under the blanket of darkness, as if we’re flying.
‘Slow down, you crazy fucking bitch!’
Your voice is thick and heavy, shouting again.
And for a second I glance at you, watching as your entire body violently shakes with rage. Spittle sprays from your lips, peppering the dashboard with droplets of your saliva with every word you scream.
You look capable of murder.
Capable of murdering me.
One fist raised, clenched tightly, your short, jagged nails digging into your skin.
But you don’t strike out again. You don’t get a chance.
Because the car slams into something solid on the ground.
A rock? A tree stump?
I’m not sure what, because I was busy looking at you.
Busy waiting for another blow that didn’t come.
For a few seconds, I wasn’t paying attention and suddenly we’re soaring through the sky, a second or so of weightlessness as the car twists uncontrollably in mid-air.
And I hear the wailing coming from the back seat.
It’s all I can hear.
Loud and deafening; the most frightening noise I’ve ever heard.
****
Opening her eyes, Rebecca stares ahead, focusing on the blank television screen.
The stench of smoke from the fire earlier still lingers.
It was just a dream. Only a dream, she tells herself as she tries to ground herself, her eyes moving down towards the coffee table, scattered with magazines and an empty coffee cup.
She’s in the lounge. Laying on the sofa.
She’s safe. She’s home.
Only something’s not right.
She has no recollection of how she got here. No recollection of falling asleep.
She tries to sit up, but winces as a dull thudding radiates inside her skull. Her head feels sore, as if she’s been struck…
She fainted. She remembers now.
Jamie’s gone. He’s taken Ella. And she’d been in Jamie’s office. Reading the articles on his computer.
The articles about her. About the crash.
Jamie knows.
She must have hit her head on the floor when she passed out.
She attempts to touch the bump she knows will be there, but her movement is restricted. She can’t move her hands. Her skin tugs against the sharp plastic cable ties that are bound tightly around her wrists.
‘What the fuck…’ The words come out as a whisper as a wild panic spreads through her at the realisation someone has tied her up. Struggling to sit up, she realises that her legs have been tied with rope.
A clanging noise coming from the kitchen tells her she’s not alone.
‘Jamie?’ she calls out, listening intently to the sound of running water from the kitchen tap, the shuffling of footsteps. Though she notes there is no sound of Ella. That alone feels her with the sense of dread.
‘Jamie, I saw the articles on your computer. I know what you must be thinking. But please, I can explain everything. It’s not what you think…’
Jamie must have come home and found her in his office. He would have seen what she was looking at on the computer screen.
That he’d found out all her secrets. He knew what she’d done. That’s why he was acting so cold towards her and distancing himself, because now he’d found out who she really was.
‘I wanted to tell you the truth, really I did. But I couldn’t tell anyone… not even you…’ She tugged at the cable ties, pulling her wrists apart with all the strength she could muster, but it was no use.
She wondered if Jamie had called the police?
That must be why he tied her up, so that he could keep her restrained until they got here.
Rebecca knew he could ruin her now. He had all the evidence, didn’t he? Of who she was, of what she’d done. He’d pieced it all together.
It wouldn’t take much for the police to join the dots and prove that it had been her that day, driving the car.