CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
As the car sped through the Brighton streets, Cathy was already panicking. “We should have done as Leah said and left it to the police!” she wailed.
“Wait for what, Christmas?” Steve Taylor demanded as she slammed his foot on the accelerator and ignored a red light. “By the time they get their act together, it could be too late.”
“Don’t say that!” Cathy sobbed, and then pointed out more coherently, “We don’t even know the bloody way!”
“I do,” Steve told her. “A mate of mine used to live out Portslade way. I think I can find the place fairly easily.”
“You think?” Cathy’s was not impressed.
“Okay, I know I can. Stop whining, woman, and pull yourself together. You’ll be no use to me or Lynette in that state.”
His words had a sobering effect on Cathy. “Do you think this Cartwright man is dangerous?”
“What kind of a stupid question is that? Of course the bastard’s dangerous. He’s a fucking paedophile, for crying out loud!” veering sharply right then left then right again as he spoke. “We’re not going on a fucking picnic here, woman!”
“There’s no need to swear. You know I hate that word,” Cathy scolded him.
“Give me strength!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry,” she repeated, “It’s just that…I’m so scared, Steve. Suppose he isn’t there or we’re too late and Lynette is already…” But she could not bring herself to say the word she feared most.
“Don’t worry,” said Steve Taylor brusquely, “Lynette will be fine, you’ll see. As for Cartwright…I’ll kill him. So help me I’ll kill the bastard!”
“No!” Cathy said quietly but with uncompromising vehemence. “You’ll do no such thing. You’ll leave him to the police. Promise me, Steve. If you don’t, it could be you who ends up in prison, and I couldn’t bear it. Promise me, you won’t do anything stupid. We don’t even know for sure if Lynette will be there or that Cartwright has taken her. For all we know, we could be on a wild goose chase.”
“At least we’re doing something,” he growled, “If I’d had to spend another minute doing nothing I’d have gone round the fucking bend!”
“Promise me, you won’t do anything stupid,” she repeated
“Okay I promise,” said Steve between clenched teeth, “although, if it comes to a fight, I may have to rough him up a bit.” A screech of brakes announced their arrival. “You see, I told you I knew the way, ye of little faith,” he told her with a smile of grim satisfaction. If my memory serves me right, Hammond Court is that block over there.” He pointed to a block of flats just ahead. “It looks like we have a clear field too. No cops to fuck things up. Mind you, if I’m not back in ten minutes you had better call 999 and tell them to hurry up. Now, stay here and don’t move. If the cops turn up sooner rather than later, stall them. I’ll deal with this my way. They will only scare him off. ”
“I’m coming with you.”
“You’ll do as you’re bloody told, woman,” he snapped then, in a more placatory tone, “I need you to watch my back, love, okay?” He was climbing out of the car. On impulse, he turned and leaned back inside.
The passionate kiss on her lips took Cathy by surprise. Before she had quite collected herself, Steve had vanished into what struck her as a scary, almost surreal surround of spreading, deepening shadows…Like something out of a gothic novel.
Taylor reached his goal in minutes. Glancing at the piece of paper in his hand, he hastily confirmed that he had the correct address and rang the doorbell. He was not prepared for the frail, elderly man who opened the door and found himself briefly at a loss for words.
“Can I help you?” the old man asked while taking care to keep the door on a chain.
“I’m looking for Bob Cartwright,” Taylor stammered nonplussed.
“There’s no one here by that name.” The old man started to close the door.
“It’s really urgent,” Taylor cried and thrust the piece of paper through the gap, “I was given this address.”The old man peered at the untidy scrawl, finally snatched the piece of paper and held it up to the light. “This is Hammond Court,” he said, handing it back, “You want Harmood Court, just across the way. You can’t miss it,” he added helpfully, “It’s the one with the phone mast on the top. Damn phone companies. Bloody cheek if you ask me,” he muttered angrily before shutting the door.
Taylor ran all the way except for pausing beside a parked car to listen out after thinking he heard a faint cry. But it did not come again. He shrugged and savagely tore into himself. He must stay calm. This was no time to start hearing imaginary voices.
He ran on.
The lift was out of order. Taylor took the stone stairway two steps at a time. His eyes were still riveted to the number twenty-four on the door when his nose alerted him to an unmistakeable, acrid smell. Intuitively, he looked down. “Oh, bloody hell!” Smoke was creeping insidiously over his shoes. “Fire!” he yelled at the top of his voice, “Someone, call the bloody fire brigade!”
Panic-stricken, he put his shoulder to the door and attempted to break it down.
.................................................
Having cleaned Spencer’s head wound and made a makeshift bandage with her top, Charley concentrated on trying to calm Lynette while Spence staggered to a long, narrow window that looked out on a concrete playground at the rear of the block. He tried and failed to open it. The security lock would not budge. Where was the bloody key? Then he spotted a courting couple strolling hand in hand across the playground. They paused to engage in prolonged kisses immediately below. He hammered with both fists on the double-glazing to attract their attention but realized he was wasting his time even before they had moved on.
Dispiritedly, but mustering an encouraging smile, he returned to Charley and Lynette. “We’ll be out of here before you know it, you’ll see. The cab driver will be getting anxious about his fare, for a start. Gun or no gun, I’d like to see Cartwright put one over a cabbie when his blood’s up,” he joked.
Charley confessed her gaff.
Spencer’s face fell and then lit up again. He looked the type to smell a rat if you ask me. Even if he doesn’t wait for us, someone at the hotel will notice we’re missing soon enough. Besides, the police are out looking for Lynette already,” he reminded a sceptical looking Charley, “It’s only a matter of time before they turn up here. Let’s face it, my sweet, if you can work it out so can they.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Charley, unconvinced, but she summoned a reassuring smile for Lynette’s sake “We’ll have you back with your mum and dad before you know it,” she promised the terrified child. “Do you want to tell us what happened?” she asked gently, thinking it might help ease the little girl’s fears if she were encouraged to talk about her experience.
“He called out my name at the hotel just as I was going into the lift,” said Lynette hesitantly and added, “It could only have been a few minutes after Grandpa Owen left.
“He knew your name?” Charley expressed surprise.
“Yes. I didn’t recognize him at first then I remembered. We met him the other day, Grandpa Owen, Grandma Anne and me, when we were in Lewes. They obviously knew him and the lady he was with, so I though it would be okay. I wasn’t to know he’s a nasty man, was I? I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong,” she added tearfully.
“Of course not,” Charley empathised and gave the child a reassuring hug, “and you’ve done nothing wrong, my dear, absolutely nothing. None of this is your fault.”
Meanwhile, Spence explored the room, quietly but thoroughly rummaging in drawers and even looking under the bed for something to use as a weapon against their captor. His search yielded nothing, although the glimmer of a plan began to take shape in his head.
“He said he was on his way to see Grandma Anne,” Lynette continued and I didn’t really want to go straight back to Mummy and Daddy. They keep arguing all the time, you see. It’s horrible. I thought Grandma Anne might tell them to stop since Grandpa Owen wouldn’t. He just kept saying it was none of his business. The man said his name was Bob and he had a car and we could be at The Orion in no time. I thought it would be okay. I mean, wouldn’t you? He even knew where Grandma Anne was staying. How was I to know he’s such a horrible creepy crawly?” She began to cry.
Charley took Lynette in her arms and comforted her. “Everything will be alright, you’ll see.”
“I know I’m not supposed to talk to strange men but…He wasn’t a stranger, was he? Not really. Mummy will be so angry and Dad will hit the roof. I’ll be in such trouble.”
“No you won’t, I promise.” Charley spoke with fierce reassurance, as much to calm her own frayed nerves as the distressed child.
Suddenly Lynette’s eyes opened wide. “Look!” she squealed, pointing over Charley’s shoulder.
Charley turned. Her eyes flew to the door where smoke was starting to filter through a tiny gap at the bottom.
“Shit!” Spencer had seen it too. “Get off the bed, you two. Charley, shove the duvet against the door,” he told them and returned to the window. Where was the key to open the bloody window, he kept asking himself? “It has to be somewhere!” he muttered but a frantic search yielded nothing.Smoke was now already penetrating the duvet, now piled against the door.
“Mummy, Daddy…!” Lynette screamed, broke away from Charley and ran to the window.Spence and Charley exchanged anxious glances.
“What are you waiting for? Open the bloody window!” Charley shouted.
“I need the bloody key, don’t I? Think, woman, where would you put it?”
“How would I know?”
“You’re always telling me you’re shit scared of being burgled. You must have burglar-proof locks at home, surely?”
“Well, yes…”
“So where do you keep the keys?”
“In a little pot on my dressing table, but...”
Spence looked. No little pot. “It has to be somewhere to hand,” he told his jaded reflection in the widow, “so where, dammit, where?”
“Try the wardrobe?” Charley suggested.
Spence went to a double wardrobe and flung open the door.
“Not inside, you idiot, on top,” Charley yelled, rushing to stop a near hysterical Lynnette smashing her little fists against the glass.
Spence felt along the top of the wardrobe, His fingers connected with something that felt like a key. “Eureka!” He ran to the window and opened it.
All three were now coughing as the smoke took hold. Spence leaned outside. There was a sheer drop below. A drainpipe ran past the window, just beyond arm’s length. He turned to Lynette. “If I help you, can you shin down a drainpipe?” The child shook her head.
“Yes you can,” Charley told her, “Why, I used to shin down a drainpipe outside my bedroom window all the time when I was your age. My mum thought I was doing my homework, but I was really meeting up with the gang. We used to get up to all sorts,” she chuckled and Lynette rewarded her with a weak grin. “There’s nothing to it. You just have to remember to hold on tight.”
“I’ll pass you through the window and you grab it. Okay?” Spencer was already lifting Lynette.
“I can’t, I can’t!” the terrified little girl shrieked.
“Yes you can,” said Charley, “Mummy and Daddy will be so proud of you.” “Do you really think so?” The tearful face lit up.
"I really know so.” Charley summoned a reassuring smile.
“I’ve got you,” Spence told the little girl who reached, tentatively, for the drainpipe.
Some people below had stopped to watch and were pointing and crying out in alarm. “Call the Fire Brigade! Spencer yelled to the little group then to Lynette, “Try harder.” He leaned further out of the window and tried to swing the child towards the drainpipe. Lynette caught on fast. At the third attempt, she managed to grasp the pipe with both hands.
Spence let go.
Lynette screamed, but kept her balance and managed to wrap her legs around the pipe. “Now ease yourself down slowly.” Spence told the distraught child. “Come on now. You can do it.”
Slowly but surely, Lynette eased herself to the ground.
.Spence turned to Charley. “Now it’s your turn.”
“You’ve got to be joking! I’ll never get through the window let alone climb down a drainpipe! You go, and I’ll take my chances with the Fire Brigade.”
Spence jumped down “I’m not leaving you. You can do it.”
“It’s sweet of you to say so, darling, but I’ll get stuck and then we’ll both be done for. You know I’m right. You go. I’ll be fine, you’ll see. The cavalry will arrive in the nick of time like it always does."
“I’m not leaving you!” Spence declared and embraced her. For several seconds they clung to each other and kissed fiercely in spite of spluttering as smoke continued to fill the room.
“Now, go!” Charley pushed him away.
“No!” Spence remained defiant. “Now just you listen to me, Kirk Spencer. If the worst comes to the worst, there’s no point in both of us snuffing it. No point at all. I may not be religious, but I do believe that human life is sacred. It is not something you throw away lightly, and I will not let you throw yours away. So stop fussing and get yourself out of here fast.”
"But…I love you.”
“I love you too, which is why I will not let you play the martyr on my behalf. Don’t think I don’t appreciate the thought, my darling Spence, I do. But you’re far too young and good-looking to start chatting up angels. What are you trying to do, make me jealous?” She laughed and coughed in turn through a radiant smile and a daunting expression that brooked no argument. “Now, go before I toss you through the damn window myself…and don’t think for one moment I can’t or won’t!”
“I'm not leaving you!” Tears of frustration did nothing to ease the sting of a coil of smoke attacking his eyes.
“Damn you, Kirk Spencer. You’ll do as you’re told!” She began to forcibly propel him towards the open window.
“Okay, okay, you win!” Spencer sobbed, and was soon reaching for the drainpipe.
Charley watched him descend before retreating inside the room, debating whether or not rush the door and chance that her not inconsiderable weight against it would allow her to making a dash for safety. By now, she could barely make out the door for smoke. It has to be worth taking a chance, surely?
In the distance, she heard the shrill sound of emergency sirens. Police, Fire Brigade or both, she wondered? Whatever, a violent coughing fit told her it didn’t matter. There was no way either would arrive in time to save her.
Come on, Charley Briggs, you can do it! she told herself and staggered towards the door, a handkerchief over nose and mouth. She kicked the duvet aside. In spite of everything she couldn’t suppress a giggle. Suddenly, all she could think about was that she was half naked and wasn’t wearing a bra. Come on, girl, let’s give ’em an eyeful and be damned. She tugged at the handle, momentarily forgetting the door was locked. Who says big girls can’t do the business? Like hell they can’t! She stepped back a few paces before rushing the door. It opened to reveal a fog of smoke. She could just make out flames everywhere she looked. .
Charley stepped back, resolve fading fast, terror taking its place.
Barely had the sound of water that might have been a running tap reached her ears when a shadowy figure loomed out of nowhere. “Throw this over yourself!” a man’s voice she vaguely recognized yelled above the roar of the flames. A soaking wet bath towel was thrust into her hands. She did as she was told. Although cumbersomely heavy, it was large enough to cover much of her exposed flesh. Gratefully, she let the firm hand that seized hers guide her, zigzagging madly, through a maze of billowing smoke and scorching flames even as a searing pain attacked both her legs.
The smoke followed them out of the door and down the stairs.
Once outside, the fact that she was safe and still alive hit Charley at the same tome as a fresh, summer breeze.“Thank God!” She sank to her knees and instantly lost consciousness.
When Charley came to, a distinct but not unpleasant smell unique to hospitals told her where she was long before she opened her eyes and began to take stock of her curtained surroundings.
Spence was snoozing in a chair by the bed.
Her legs hurt but, apart from that, she appeared to have got off very lightly, given the attempt on her life. A shudder ran through her entire body as she recalled how she had fled the burning flat. Who had rescued her? It can’t have been Spence since he was down below at the time. Her gaze rested fondly on his face. Dear, darling Spence. He hadn’t wanted to leave her nor would have done had she not made him.
Charley’s eyes filled with tears.
Spence opened his eyes and a lazy grin spread across the haggard features. “You’re awake then?”
“As observant as ever, I see.” She opened her arms, but he hung back. “What’s the matter? I can still handle cuddle, just be gentle.”
“I thought I’d lost you.”
“Huh, fat chance! You don’t just ‘lose’ someone my size. But Spence was in no mood for humour.
“I should never have left you.” “You might have died if you hadn’t.”
“You don’t know that. Look at you, you survived.”
Charley attempted a nonchalant shrug, and failed miserably.“Who saved me, by the way?”
“Steve Taylor.”
“As in Steve Taylor, Lynette’s father? Goodness, did he really?” Charley sighed. “So I was wrong about him too. It seems like I’ve been wrong about a whole lot of things. When I think about what I’ve put poor Owen Shepherd through, I could crawl away and die.”
“You’ll do no such thing, not when I’ve only just got you back.” He leaned across and took her hand in his. “I should have stayed with you,” he repeated, “I don’t know what I was thinking of, leaving you like that. As soon as I reached the ground, I tried to climb back up but they held me back.” “Thank goodness someone showed some common sense,” Charley retorted. “If you had, I’d have rattled the bloody drainpipe till you fell off. I warned you at the time I’d toss you through the window if you didn’t go of your own accord and I meant it. So you see, if you hadn’t burned to death you’d probably have broken your neck. Either way, you wouldn’t be sitting here now looking like a beleaguered vampire.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing and give me a kiss before I rip off this damn drip and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.”
They embraced.
“What happened to Cartwright?” she demanded as they parted to draw breath.
“He got away.”
“What!” she would have yelled but the effort brought on a prolonged bout of coughing.
“Are you okay? Shall I call someone?” Spence was immediately beside himself.
“Don’t fuss.” Charley reached for a plastic beaker of water beside the bed and drank the lot. “I’m fine,” she managed to say at last. “Sorry about that, but just thinking about that monster getting away with what he’s done makes my blood boil.”
“The police will catch him soon enough. They may even have him in custody already.”
“Even so, a man like that on the loose…It doesn’t bear thinking about.” She hesitated. “What about Owen Shepherd, have they released him? They must have by now, surely? He’ll never forgive me, neither will Anne. How could I have been so stupid?”
“You mustn’t blame yourself. Everything pointed to his being guilty, after all.”
“If it did, it was only because I wanted it to. From the moment I recognized him as the man I saw on the hotel stairs that night, even though I knew Patricia hadn’t even disappeared by then, I made up my mind he was as guilty as hell. I wanted him to be guilty. Oh, Spence, what have I done?”
Spence ignored the question and put one of his own instead. “Never mind about all that now. Have you decided? Will you marry me, Charley Briggs?”
To be continued on Friday
