The Anita Waller Collection: Malignant, Game Players, and Captor

The Anita Waller Collection

Anita Waller

Contents

Malignant

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Acknowledgments

game players

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

Captor

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Epilogue

Beautiful

Angel

Winterscroft

34 Days

Strategy

Acknowledgments

Also by Anita Waller

Copyright © 2018 Anita Waller

The right of Anita Waller to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

First published in 2018 by Bloodhound Books

Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

www.bloodhoundbooks.com

Praise for Anita Waller

Be prepared to put everything on hold when you pick up this book, for me it was a one sitting read a book that I could not put down. Yvonne Bastian - Me And My Books 

Thanks for a great read Anita Waller! When is the next one out?? Rebecca Burton - If Only I Could Read Faster 

This book has lots of gasp out loud moments and plenty that will make you a little weepy too (it did for me anyway). Lorna Cassidy - On The Shelf Reviews

This is an engrossing read that I pretty much inhaled. Philomena Callan - Cheekypee Reads And Reviews 

Waller has an amazing skill to grab you and keep you interested until the very last page. Eclectic Ramblings of Author Heather Osborne

WOW! ANITA HAS DONE IT AGAIN. What a bloody brilliant, outstanding, captivating story. Gemma Myers - Between The Pages Book Club

This is a very gritty read...Add into the mix, the ruthlessness of the gangsters and you’ve got a cracking crime thriller. Claire Knight - A Knight's Reads 

It has twists and turns, shocks and honestly at times I had no idea what the end would be! Donna Maguire - Donnas Book Blog 

A plot to keep you turning from beginning to end. I really enjoyed this . A captivating read . Nicki Murphy - Nicki's Book Blog

... a really well written, gripping book with plenty of twists for me! Donna Maguire - Donnas Book Blog

...building up to a tense, drama packed read. I was literally biting my nails by the end. Lorna Cassidy - On The Shelf Reviews

The author really keeps you on the edge of your seat – the twists made me gasp and she sets the atmosphere absolutely perfectly. Melisa Broadbent - Broadbean's Books

If you are looking for a crime thriller that is somewhat unnerving as it is every mothers worst nightmare, a fast paced page turner that keeps you guessing. Then I definitely recommend Captor! Dash Fan Book Reviews

Captor will have you gripped from the beginning and won’t let you go until you have finished. It is a suspense filled crime thriller that will keep you guessing throughout. Gemma Myers - Between The Pages Book Club

"...Waller has definitely done it again and proves herself to be one of the best storytellers in the genre of murder, necessary murder, as she likes to say." Rebecca Burnton - If Only I Could Read Faster

Wow. what an amazing book. To say I couldn’t put it down doesn’t seem enough. Jo Turner - Life Of Crime

I absolutely loved this story. I was totally gripped. The twists I didn’t expect and I didn’t guess who the Captor was. Philomena Callan - Cheekypee Reads And Reviews

The characters were well thought out, well written and above all, believable. There is tension aplenty virtually from the opening page. Sarah Kenny - Beyond The Veil Book Blog

I guarantee you will not be able to put Captor to rest until finished, jam packed and stacked with everything you could desire in a criminal psychological thriller. Diane Hogg - Sweet Little Book Blog

In memory of Alan, my only sibling.

Loved so much.

He would have been seventy

on publication day,

10 October 2018

Alan Havenhand

10.10.1948 – 12.05.2004

In this life we have to make many choices. Some

are very important choices. Some are not. Many of

our choices are between good and evil. The choices

we make, however, determine to a large extent our

happiness or our unhappiness, because we have to

live with the consequences of our choices.

James E. Faust

Prologue

23 December 2010

The coffin was small and white, the wreath on top heart shaped and pink. Friends and family had packed into the cemetery chapel, all wearing something white in honour of the tiny child inside the coffin. Claudia and James Bell, along with their two other children, Harry and Zoe, followed the coffin down the short aisle, then sat on the left, ushered to their places by the funeral director. Their faces reflected their emotions; horror, disbelief, loss.

The death of the baby had caused family fragmentation. Claudia held onto her husband’s arm, struggling to cope. Zoe clung to his other arm, and Harry just stared ahead of him; twenty years of life wasn’t long enough to have prepared him for this. Zoe, three years younger than her brother, had fallen apart, unable to comprehend that death could arrive and take someone so young, so tiny. Their plan for a special Christmas with Mum and Dad’s brand-new baby was in ruins, and almost without thinking about it, Harry recognised they would never have a good Christmas again. Baby Ella Mae would always be there as a Christmas memory, re-gluing the broken Bell family.

They had asked James if he wanted to carry the coffin, but he accepted it was out of the question. He knew he would be physically holding up his wife and his daughter. The funeral directors had agreed, and one perfectly attired gentleman had walked down the aisle in front of them, carrying the tiny white box with its spray of pink roses atop.

The service was, quite simply, a blur. They heard nothing, remembered nothing, and when told to do so, followed the coffin outside where it was replaced in the hearse and transported to the children’s area of the cemetery.

They exited their funeral car, and Claudia noticed other parents tending the graves of their children; she whimpered. This would be the life she would share with them from now on.

‘No,’ she moaned, and James held her close. She felt the milk leaking from her breasts, milk that hadn’t begun to dry up yet. Two days, that was all they had been given with their baby before she slipped away. But Claudia’s body didn’t know about that, and milk production was in full flow.

They gathered around the empty grave, the Bell family clutching onto their white roses, just as everyone standing around was holding onto theirs. The coffin was lowered; the parents Claudia had noticed earlier stopped what they were doing to pay their respect to the tiny body being laid to rest. In her mind, she acknowledged their thoughtfulness as the tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

Heather, Claudia’s friend, stepped forward as the vicar finished his part of the ceremony and read the poem she and Claudia had chosen, amidst many tears. Heather’s cheeks were flushed, and all she wanted to do was hold her best friend, hold her until the tears stopped. She began to speak, and the crowd fell silent.

‘The world may never notice if a snowdrop doesn't bloom,

Or even pause to wonder if the petals fall too soon.

But every life that ever forms,

Or ever comes to be,

Touches the world in some small way

For all eternity.

The little one we longed for

Was swiftly here and gone.

But the love that was then planted is a light that still shines on.

And though our arms are empty,

Our hearts know what to do.

For every beating of our hearts

Says that we love you.’

Claudia and James, holding hands with their grown-up children, moved forward and threw their roses down onto the coffin. Heather, still standing by the graveside, threw hers down to join them, and slowly the crowd added theirs. The tiny white coffin was smothered in the heady perfume of the roses, and gradually everyone made their way back to their homes and to their own Christmas preparations.

There was no wake; the Bell family returned to their home, and Heather and Owen Gower returned to theirs. The couples had lived next door to each other for many years, but they hadn’t had to deal with anything like this before.

The Christmas tree had been taken down in the Bell house; nobody wanted Christmas. The baby had been due on Christmas Day but had arrived a week early on the seventeenth; she had been taken from them two days later.

The tree and cards had already been in place for a couple of weeks, but the evening baby Ella left them, James and Claudia returned to their home and packed away every bit of Christmas.

The house looked as empty as their hearts; all four sat and stared at the flames of the log burner, unaware of whether they felt warm or cold, and grieved for the infant.

Their own Christmas child.

Chapter 1

1 April 2017

Claudia Bell was unsettled, at odds with herself, feeling not quite right. She didn’t truly know why she felt as she did; she had a job she enjoyed as office manager at a large haulage company, her social life was as okay as she needed it to be, she didn’t look anywhere near forty-four, and her kids were well and happily residing with partners of their own.

And yet she felt out of sorts, a little adrift. She eased her legs out of bed and stretched. Glancing at her bedside clock, Claudia registered that it said 08:10 and she ran to the bathroom. Maybe she shouldn’t have given in to the enticing snooze button on her alarm.

Claudia hated having to rush to get to work, and while in the shower reflected that it might have been better if she’d got up when James had, at seven. She was just grateful that she worked in the same area of Sheffield that she lived in and didn’t have to do the manic cross-city rush hour thing every morning and evening.

She dried her short dark hair and frowned at her image in the mirror. The hair looked a bit wispy, the make-up a bit sparse. Running repairs would have to be done at work, and not for the first time.

Jumping in the car, carrying a travel mug of coffee and a slice of toast, Claudia arrived with two minutes to spare, breathing a sigh of relief.

‘Morning,’ she said, and received a chorus of mornings back.

Her small office was in the corner of the main large open-plan space, and she was taking her coat off as she went through the doorway. She winced as the sleeve dragged against a sore spot at the back of her shoulder, and once again vowed to ask James to have a look and see if he could see anything.

She switched on her computer and settled down to work.

As the day wore on, she began to unwind. It was an easy day; there had been no breakdowns, no late loads, and no arguments between colleagues Fiona and Sara. Sara going out with Fiona’s ex, one of their drivers, hadn’t helped with harmony in the workplace, but it had been a good day. Claudia’s equilibrium had gone some way towards being restored.

She gave Sara a lift home, and not a word was mentioned about the magnificent Baz; Claudia thought it best not to say his name, hoping the super-stud would quickly tire of Sara, just as he had tired of Fiona. Peace would then be brokered; Baz could return to being a footloose and fancy-free driver with a girl in every port and loading bay, and his two paramours could renew their lost friendship.

Lights were on at home, and Claudia pulled her car in behind James’s Sportage, smiling as she always did at the sight of her Fiesta parked near the back of his much larger vehicle. To her, it looked as though the Sportage had given birth to her little car; both sharing the same colour, a deep navy, created the illusion.

She swung her bag onto her shoulder and winced again as the strap rubbed across the sore spot. She really needed to remember it hurt when touched by anything, she grumbled to herself.

James opened the front door before she got to it. ‘I need to go out.’

She sighed. She could do without arguments. ‘Okay. I’ll move it.’

She put her bag on the doorstep and walked back to her car. Putting it in reverse, she guided it carefully back down the drive, mindful of him probably watching her and preparing his sarcastic comments, and steered the car out onto the road. She parked it by the kerbside, locked it up and headed back to the house.

The door was closed but her bag was still on the doorstep. Again, she sighed. She hoped he was going out soon, and she could settle on the sofa with a book and anything grossly fattening she could find.

She opened the door, and the smell of bacon permeated the house. She took off her coat, careful to avoid the sore spot, and hung it in the cloakroom, then headed for the kitchen.

‘Bacon?’

‘Yes, just grabbed the first thing I found really,’ James said, not bothering to look at her. ‘I’ve got to be in Leeds by seven. If the meeting goes on late, and there’s alcohol involved, I’ll probably stay over. If not, I’ll be home later. I’ll let you know.’

‘What’s the meeting about?’

‘The official line is bringing more young people into the party, but as soon as Jeremy became leader, that happened anyway. I think the idea now is to educate the youngsters, let them see what a political career can offer them.’

James worked for the Labour party and took his job seriously. Much more seriously than he took his relationship with his wife, she thought, moving to stand by his side.

‘Before you go, can you just have a look at my shoulder, please?’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’d like you to look at it. It’s sore. Is it a rash?’

She heard him tut, and thought he was going to refuse, but he stood, and she peeled back the neckline of her sweater, exposing her upper right arm and shoulder area.

He cast a quick glance. ‘Can’t see anything.’

‘James!’

He had a closer look, and hesitated. ‘Yes, there’s a sort of blister. It looks like a small grape. A really small grape. It’s a bit inflamed around it, but I assume that’s your sweater rubbing on it. You want me to put a plaster over it?’

She shook her head. ‘No, it’s been bothering me for a couple of weeks. I’ll make an appointment with the doctor. It probably needs removing.’

He made no further comment, left the kitchen and headed upstairs. Claudia watched him go, then turned and opened the fridge.

It seemed pointless cooking a meal for one, and she too brought out the bacon, with little enthusiasm. The bread bin proved to be empty; James had used the last two breadcakes. She put the bacon back in the fridge, took out a yoghurt, and wandered into the lounge.

She heard him come downstairs, open the front door, and then close it. The next sound was the car engine and she knew that really, their marriage was one huge sham. For years she had ignored the coldness for the sake of the children, but now both Harry and Zoe had left home, Harry to live with his partner Emma, and Zoe to share her life with husband David.

So, what was keeping Claudia here? Not loyalty. She felt she owed him nothing. The bruises were testament to that. Security? She could have security on her own. And it certainly wasn’t for conversation; he couldn’t even say goodbye as he left the house any more.

Fear. That was keeping her rooted to this house. Fear of his anger, his quickness to raise his hand, whether threatening or hitting her. She shook her head. She would be happy later; she knew he wasn’t coming home. There would be alcohol, so he would stay in Leeds; he wouldn’t risk his driving licence. To him, his job was too important.

She glanced at the clock, then picked up the telephone handset.

The doctor’s receptionist answered quickly, taking Claudia by surprise.

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I half expected the answer machine.’

‘We’re here until six now,’ she said, her frosty tone indicating she didn’t really approve of having to stay an extra half hour.

‘Oh, good,’ Claudia said. ‘Can I have an appointment as soon as possible, please? Preferably with Dr Walker.’ She liked Dr Walker; he listened when she needed to talk.

There was a moment of hesitation. ’Friday, 29th April. 9am.’

‘What? But it’s the first today. I have to wait four weeks?’

‘Yes. That’s Dr Walker’s first available appointment. You can come to the emergency session any day, by ringing at eight, but you won’t necessarily get to see him, it could be any of our six doctors.’

Claudia sighed yet again. It seemed to be an evening for sighing. ‘So, if I ring Monday morning, I’ll be able to see a doctor?’

‘If there are any slots left, yes. And if it’s an emergency.’

‘Thank you.’ Claudia put down the phone and stared at it. And she’d thought April Fool’s Day had finished at lunchtime. This was no joke. Now she would have to wait until Monday and hope she could get in then.

She wandered back into the lounge, put on some music and picked up her book. She finished off the yoghurt, put her head comfortably on a cushion and began to read. The sore spot was irritating her, and she changed ends so that she wasn’t touching anything with her shoulder.

Eventually she gave up and went to find a mirror. She slipped off her sweater and stood with her back to the cheval mirror in the bedroom. She couldn’t see anything. Every time she screwed her head round, her body moved as well. She went to find her phone.

The resulting photograph was a waste of time. In the end, she ran a bath, had a soak for an hour, then slipped on a silky nightie, figuring that wouldn’t irritate the sore part of her shoulder any more than it already was.

James didn’t ring to tell her what he was doing, so she went to bed early, read a couple of chapters, and slept restlessly all night. Every time she turned over she caught the spot, until in the end she got up, had a bowl of cornflakes and mentally prepared herself for the weekend.

Saturday showed promise of being a beautiful day, and Claudia decided to do a bit of tidying in the garden. The borders still had last year’s dead foliage on the plants, so she removed it. The spring sunshine was pleasantly warm, and she worked along the long side strip after taking all the dead blooms off the hydrangea; she was halfway along the front edge by the time James pulled onto the drive. She had acquired a large haul of dead matter for the compost heap and was just considering fetching the wheelbarrow from the garage to start moving the brown mound.

She hadn’t heard him arrive, and she jumped as she heard his voice. ‘I’m back.’ Not ‘I’m home’, but ‘I’m back’.

Claudia eased herself off her knees and waved the secateurs at him. ‘Thought I’d make a start,’ she said.

‘I didn’t drive back last night.’

‘I gathered that.’

He stared at her, then turned and walked into the kitchen.

Moments later, he returned to the back door.

‘Can you knock off, please, and make a coffee?’

Claudia placed the secateurs on the kneeling mat and headed for the kitchen. Even his voice made her feel angry. Taking down the cafetière – he didn’t like instant coffee – she spooned in the dark blend he preferred. She switched on the kettle, keeping her back to him. If he couldn’t speak civilly, then she was damned sure she wasn’t going to say anything. James sat at the kitchen table watching her.

‘Have you lost weight?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’ Her voice was quiet. She sensed where this was heading. She could hear it in his voice.

‘You’re looking very fit. Take off your top.’

‘What?’

‘I said take off your top.’

‘I’m making the coffee.’ She could hear the quaver in her own voice, so knew he must be able to hear it, sense her fear.

He stood and came behind her, reached around to the buttons, and ripped her shirt open. She heard and saw tiny white buttons bounce on the work surface. He spun her around to face him.

‘I could tell you had no bra on,’ he said, almost conversationally, staring at her breasts.

She tried to cover herself with the shirt, but he pulled it away from her body again. He placed his hands roughly on her breasts.

‘Why no bra? Were you waiting for me to come home?’

‘No. The strap on the bra is rubbing against that sore spot on my shoulder. It was comfier to leave it off.’

‘Forget the coffee. I’ve changed my mind.’ His tone had altered. ‘Upstairs, now.’

‘No, James, please… ’

He lifted his hand and slapped her across the face. ‘I said now.’ He spoke quietly, tonelessly, and she left the kitchen, trying to hold in the tears. She felt so alone, and frightened.

Chapter 2

‘S hall we go to Mum’s?’ Zoe Kenwright leaned over and kissed her man. She liked kissing her man. Very much.

‘Will your dad be there?’ David, her husband of four months, spoke without opening his eyes. To him, Saturday meant having a lie-in, and that didn’t appear to be on the cards. But he did like his woman kissing him.

‘I don’t know. Why?’

He shrugged, his eyes still closed. ‘Your dad’s okay when he’s okay, sometimes he isn’t. S’all I’m saying.’

She remained quiet for a moment. ‘So, shall we go?’

He groaned. ‘For goodness’ sake, woman, don’t nag. Was this in the marriage vows?’

‘No, and neither was picking up your laundry from the bedroom floor and putting it in the basket, but I seem to do it a lot.’

They swung their legs out at the same time, and Zoe went for the shower. David smiled, and slid back between the sheets. Maybe just a little bit longer…

Claudia, sitting at the kitchen table, heard the front door open.

‘Mum?’

‘’In the kitchen, sweetheart.’

Zoe, closely followed by David, walked over to kiss her mum. ‘What’s wrong with your face?’

Claudia knew the red mark was clearly visible. ‘Your dad hit me.’

‘Yeah, right. You’ve walked into something, haven’t you?’

Claudia nodded. ‘I left the wardrobe door open and turned around. It’s not a good look, but it’ll fade.’

‘Is Dad here?’

‘Yes, he’s gone to get the wheelbarrow from the garage for me. I’ve been doing a bit of tidying in the garden, there’s loads of new spring growth coming through. But now we’ve got a mountain of dead stuff to get onto the compost heap.’

She didn’t add ‘he’s being helpful and nice because he’s just hit me and raped me.’ It just wasn’t the sort of thing one said to a daughter.

David looked at his mother-in-law, at the angry red mark. A wardrobe door? He heard James whistling as he wheeled the barrow around the corner of the house and up onto the back lawn, so he went out to meet him.

‘David.’

‘James.’

James held out his hand and David briefly shook it. It was their standard greeting.

‘Busy?’

James nodded. ‘Claudia is. She directs, I fetch and carry.’

‘She’s got a cracker of a mark on her face. Bathroom cabinet door, she says.’

James nodded again. ‘Yes, she hit it with a bit of a wallop. It’ll fade.’

‘Let’s hope she doesn’t leave any more doors open, James. Wardrobe or bathroom cabinet doors. Bruises don’t suit her.’ David turned and walked back to the kitchen, leaving James motionless on the lawn, staring at his son-in-law’s back.

David rejoined his wife, sitting with Claudia at the table. A cup of coffee was waiting for him, and he sat, listening to their chatter. This wasn’t the first time he’d noticed bruises on Claudia, but she’d always had a good excuse for them. Just like now.

James came through the door and helped himself to a coffee.

Immediately, Claudia stood, and refilled the cafetière. She was jumpy, and she knew it must be obvious. ‘Are you staying for lunch?’ she asked, her tone a little too bright.

‘No, Mum, we’re okay thanks. We need to go do some shopping, we’re running dangerously low on wine,’ Zoe responded with a laugh. ‘We’ll just finish our drinks, and get off. I just wanted to check you’re both okay.’

‘Well, we are.’ Again, the tone was false.

‘Good. You need anything picking up from the supermarket?’

‘No, we’re fine, thanks.’ Claudia smiled at her daughter. With her long blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail, she looked about fifteen. Certainly not old enough for supermarkets to be part of her life. Their matching grey eyes locked on each other, and Zoe returned the smile.

‘Love you, Mum,’ she said and stood. ‘I’ve got my phone on me, so if you do need anything, give me a call.’

Zoe gave both her parents a kiss, and David bent to kiss Claudia. ‘Take care,’ he said, briefly touched her hand and followed his wife to the car, paying no attention to James.

David put the car into gear and pulled away from the kerb.

‘You don’t like my dad?’

‘I don’t like any man who makes a woman afraid.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing – forget I said anything.’

‘No – you’ve said it now. What do you mean? Mum’s not afraid of Dad.’

David shrugged. ‘Okay, I’m listening. But she’s always on edge around him. Maybe I’m wrong.’ He knew he was keeping the peace.

‘You’re wrong. ‘I’ve lived with them for twenty-odd years, and I wouldn’t have said she feared him.’

‘Let’s drop it, Zoe. I’m sure they’re fine.’

Zoe said nothing but continued to stare out of the window. She hated discord between them, and this was discord. And to make matters worse, she knew he was right; her mum had been nervous, jittery.

Heather Gower stared out of her back-bedroom window and watched the activity in the garden adjoining hers. She felt deeply for Claudia; they had been the closest of friends for many years, more like sisters than merely friends, and Heather had seen her confidence and joie-de-vivre fade over the past seven years. Losing their child had been something neither of them had ever recovered from, and Heather’s heart ached for them.

She knew they must have argued, or even worse, because James was helping move the dead stuff to the compost area. He was obviously sorry for something he’d done, because he would normally be inside working on his crosswords, scouring his newspapers and being waited on by his wife. He was so easy to read.

Heather sighed and turned away from the window. They’d married a right pair of useless lumps, she thought, as she looked at her own husband of twenty-three years, standing in the doorway of the bedroom waving a T-shirt at her.

‘I need this one today,’ Owen Gower said, and she frowned at him.

‘Why?’

‘Why?’

‘Yes, why?’ she repeated. ‘Why that one? You must have twenty T-shirts, all perfectly good, and all bloody ironed. So why that one, Owen? It’s a sensible question.’

‘Because I like this one.’ There was now a slightly aggressive tone in his voice, and Heather realised he’d already had a drink. It wasn’t yet lunchtime.

‘I don’t do ironing at the weekends,’ she said, and pushed past him. He spun her around.

‘I said I want this one.’

‘Tough. You know where the ironing board is.’

Heather headed downstairs, and seconds later heard drawers opening and closing as he decided which option to go for in his stash of ironed T-shirts.

She smiled as she reached the kitchen. She knew she’d been optimistic when she’d said you know where the ironing board is. He had no idea where it was.

Switching on the kettle Heather began to prepare a sandwich for them. Lost in her thoughts, she was surprised when he appeared behind her and gave her a quick kiss on the nape of her neck.

‘See you later,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘I’m meeting the lads in the pub. Be back around three.’

‘I’m just doing us a sandwich.’

‘I’ll have something at the pub. I don’t suppose you’d like to run me down there?’

He looked at her face and answered his own question. ‘No, maybe not then. See you later.’

She heard the door close as he left and wondered why she had let her life come to this. He needed help; his alcohol consumption was noticeable to everybody, and he was an embarrassment.

Financially they were struggling. Alcoholism came at a cost, and she knew she would have to go cap in hand to see her employer soon, to ask for more hours. She wasn’t sure Michael would say yes; the small clothes shop she managed part-time didn’t have a huge turnover, and she felt sure he would say he couldn’t do it.

Heather hated the thought that she might have to leave the job she loved and search for something with more pay, but she knew that was rapidly becoming an option.

She went out into the back garden, quite surprised by the warmth of the sun, they were so ready for nicer weather. Leaning on the fence she watched her friend as she loaded the barrow, oblivious to everything, focused on what she was doing.

‘Claudia!’

Claudia jumped, and turned around with a smile.

‘Hiya. You startled me.’

‘What’s wrong with your face?

She shrugged, and Heather had her answer.

‘Want a hug?’ she asked softly.

‘No, a gun.’

Heather smiled. ‘Make that two.’

‘He’s drinking?’

Heather nodded. ‘He is. Says he’ll be back around three, but that means maybe six. And I don’t know what to do.’

‘Do we really need a gun each? Will one gun do for both?’ Claudia said the words gently, and Heather laughed.

‘We’d manage,’ she said. ‘What’s the red mark for, this time?’

‘I said no.’

Heather drew in a quick breath. ‘No to…?’

‘Sex.’

For once Heather had no words. This was a new development in the Bells’ relationship.

‘And before you ask, yep, I gave in. I didn’t want a red mark on the other side of my face. It was partly my fault; he noticed I didn’t have on a bra.’

And then Heather found words. ‘It was not your fault, not partly, not wholly, not ever. If you say no, then it’s bloody no.’

‘Well, I’ve got a bra on now, even if it is making life uncomfortable. I’ll not make that mistake again.’

‘For God’s sake, Claudia! It should be your decision whether to wear a bra or not… It’s nothing to do with him. Is he in?’

‘Please, just leave it, Heather. It will only make things worse if he thinks I’ve told you.’

The two women stared at each other, and Heather gave a reluctant nod. ‘This can’t carry on though, Claud, he’ll really hurt you one day.’

‘I know. I’d reached that decision this morning, before this happened. Now I know I’ve got to do something. I’ll wait until after Monday, get the doctor out of the way, and then do some proper planning.’

‘Doctor?’

Claudia slipped her top off her shoulder. ‘This is why I wasn’t wearing a bra. The strap is rubbing on it, and it makes it sore.’

Heather examined it closely. ‘Is it a mole?’

‘No idea,’ Claudia said with a laugh. ‘I can’t see it. What’s it like?’

‘It’s almost like a little pearl. You’re right though, it’s in the wrong place for your strap. They’ll remove it for you, but I don’t reckon it will be at this appointment. You’ll have to wait till the minor ops surgery.’

‘I don’t care as long as they do something eventually. So – we were killing Owen at the start of this gossip…’

‘I might have to kill him before he bankrupts us.’ Heather shook her head, despair etched on her face. ‘I’m going to try to get more hours at work, but I can’t see that happening.’

‘Things haven’t improved then… it seems as though both have reached middle age and gone on a downward spiral. James has always had a quick temper, but it’s more than that now. He’s become controlling, downright nasty, and far too handy with his fists. One day the kids will realise, if they haven’t already, and then it will become so much worse. I think David has already clicked on, he gave my hand a squeeze when they left today. And Owen’s drinking has obviously gone up a notch.’

‘More than a notch,’ Heather said. ‘I suppose I’m lucky that he becomes daft, rather than violent, but it’s mostly about the money. He’s the one that buys rounds for everybody. And then he comes home, collapses on the settee, and that’s the end of my evening.’

‘We could leave together…’ Claudia’s smile was wide.

‘We could. Can you imagine what they’d say then? It wouldn’t be their fault we’d left, it would be because we were lesbians.’

‘Well, I’m not. Are you?’

Heather grinned at her friend. ‘Not bloody likely. We could always move two fellers in to prove we’re fine with men.’

‘I might not be a lesbian, but I’m never taking another man into my life. No thanks. I’m not that stupid.’

‘So, where is he? Big, brave James.’

‘No idea. He was helping me, but then he went inside. I’m happier on my own. Wonder what his bosses would think if they knew what he’d done today…’

‘Would you tell them?’

‘Definitely not. They’d probably sack him, and then he’d be at home all the time. I won’t tell them unless circumstances say I have to, but the time has come for me to go, I think.’ Claudia looked at her friend. ‘Will you help?’

‘Of course. You don’t need to ask. And get a two-bedroom place, will you? One day I might have to join you.’ There was no hint of a smile.

‘Are you serious?’ Claudia leaned against the fence. ‘Surely you can sort it? I know he’s always liked a drink, but he knew when to stop. What’s changed? What the hell has turned him from being a perfectly normal, likeable bloke, into one who prefers being in the pub to being at home?’

‘It must be me.’

‘Whoa, hang on there a minute. Didn’t you just tell me it wasn’t my fault I was raped and beaten? How can you be to blame for him being drunk all the time? Come on, Heather, answer me.’

Heather thought Claudia looked like an avenging angel, standing with her feet apart, her hands on her hips.

‘Touché,’ she said, a huge grin on her face. ‘Have they got other women?’

Claudia returned the smile. ‘I have no idea, but if James has, I hope he treats her better than he treats me.’

Heather reached across the fence and put her arms around her friend. She felt Claudia stiffen. ‘Oh my God, Claud, I’m sorry. I caught that spot, didn’t I?’

Claudia gave another wry smile. ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing compared to a smack in the face, is it? And I needed the hug. And even if you have to sleep on a sofa, there’ll always be somewhere to lay your head while I’m alive.’

Claudia moved away from the fence. ‘Of course, any decent friend would have been round here and emptied this barrow…’

‘Yeah, right.’

‘Or even made a cuppa,’ Claudia added as she grasped the handles and wheeled the barrow to the top end of the garden.

‘Two minutes,’ Heather said, walking towards her own kitchen.

Claudia tipped the barrow and picked up the rake. She moved all the brown foliage to the top of the pile then covered it with the old carpet.

She paused for a moment to ease her aching back. Time to stop, she figured. She took the barrow and the other tools back to the garage and returned to the fence to take the mug of tea from Heather’s hand.

‘Thank you, you’re a good friend,’ she said.

‘Cheers,’ Heather responded, and they clinked mugs. ‘And now leave the gardening alone, you’ll be knackered. Turn around and let me put this dressing on that sore bit.’

Claudia lay back in the bath and let her thoughts drift around inside her head. Now she had made the decision to leave, she wanted to be gone. The previous seven years hadn’t been good for either of them; the loss of Ella had been devastating. They had been shocked initially when the pregnancy was confirmed, but so happy to be having a new baby.

The cruelty of losing Ella had destroyed them. All of them. She knew James had found it difficult to express his feelings, couldn’t interact with Harry and Zoe, and wanted no comfort from his wife.

But eventually they had survived; everyone except James. He had changed beyond all recognition.

She sighed, pulled the plug and climbed out of the bath. She didn’t want to go downstairs; she didn’t want to talk. And she didn’t want a conversation about the activities of the morning.

She did her hair with considerably more care than she had the previous morning when racing to get to work, but she knew it was only because she was killing time.

The dressing on her back had come off in the bath, and she decided she couldn’t have another plaster; she didn’t want James to touch her. She slipped on a silky top and jeans and lay on the bed for a brief time to let her mind ease.

James heard his phone buzz and took it out of his pocket. He smiled when he saw the sender.

Missing you. Loving you. You having a good day? Can you stay over Tuesday night?

James deleted the text then responded.

Day been good, and I can stay Tuesday night. Warm the bed. Love you.

He once again deleted after sending and smiled. His unhappiness was slowly dissipating after years of emotional trauma, and he had one person to thank for that. He wanted Monday to be there already, and not a day away.

Claudia finally walked downstairs and past the lounge. She could see James lying on the sofa, so went through to the kitchen. She made a hot chocolate and sat at the table reading. He didn’t wake until seven, and they decided to have a pizza.

Neither spoke; there was very little of interest on television, so both read. Claudia went to bed around ten and left James downstairs. She decided if she wasn’t asleep by the time he came up, she would pretend to be. She wanted nothing more to do with him.

James sat on the sofa and took out his phone.

Chapter 3

Dr Walker looked up with a smile. ‘Claudia. Good to see you.’

He waited until she sat down. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘There’s something really irritating on the back of my shoulder. It’s right where my bra strap is, and it hurts. I’d like it removing if I can, please.’

He stood. ‘Show me.’

She dropped the shoulder of her loose-fitting jumper and felt his hands on her back.

‘I’m pretty sure it’s nothing to worry about, but you’re right, it couldn’t be in a more awkward place. I’ll refer you to the Hallamshire, and they’ll remove it for you. We don’t have a minor ops day scheduled for about six weeks, so it will be removed quicker with a referral. If you pop along to the nurse, she’ll put a dressing on it, give you a bit of protection from the bra strap.’

‘How long will I have to wait?’

‘Not long. They’re always quick with the easy stuff. Probably about a week.’

He pulled a piece of paper towards him and wrote. ‘Take this to reception and they’ll fit you in within the next twenty minutes or so for a dressing to be applied.’ Without lifting his eyes from the paper, he continued. ‘What happened to your face?’

She involuntarily touched her cheekbone. ‘Wardrobe door. I forgot I’d left it open and turned around.’

Now he did lift his head. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’

He signed his name and handed her the piece of paper. ‘I’ll send the referral letter today. With a bit of luck, the spot will be gone in a week or so. Take care, Claudia.’

‘Thank you.’ She left his surgery and walked around to reception.

Within five minutes, she was in with the nurse, who applied a dressing and handed her four more. Claudia was told to keep it covered until it was removed, and she went straight to work.

She could sense there was a minor panic in the office as she walked through the door. It soon transpired that one of the drivers had overturned his lorry, and she quickly took charge of organising having the load collected, the lorry transported to a garage, and the driver’s family informed.

Claudia missed lunch, and by mid-afternoon she needed food.

‘I’ll be back in ten minutes,’ she called to nobody in particular as she walked out the door, and several hands were held up in acknowledgement.

The canteen was quiet. She picked up a cheese and pickle sandwich and made a coffee at the machine.

The table had a small vase of four daffodils on it, and she smiled. There were around fifteen tables, each holding a few bright yellow flowers, and it brought the place to life.

‘Your idea?’ she called across to Betty, the woman who had controlled her drivers for many years.

‘Look nice, don’t they,’ she responded. ‘How’s Tony? Have you heard anything?’

‘He’s in hospital in Penrith. Broken leg, so he’ll be off for a bit. His wife and two kids are on their way. We’ll get him brought back to Sheffield as soon as he’s fit to travel.’

‘Poor lad,’ Betty responded. ‘That’ll stop his football for a bit.’

‘It certainly will. And it seems it was all because of a dog. He was driving past a lay-by when a car door opened, and a dog shot out and across in front of Tony’s truck. He swerved, hit the brakes, and the lorry went. He couldn’t get control back, and it tipped.’

‘Bless him,’ Betty said, and sat down opposite Claudia. She placed her cup of tea down carefully and gave a deep sigh. ‘I hate it when any of my lads have accidents. It puts a proper downer on everything. And is that your lunch? You’re late.’

Claudia laughed. Betty mothered everybody, including her. ‘I’ve been sorting stuff out for the accident and for Tony. I didn’t get here until eleven, had a doctor’s appointment first.’

Betty nodded. ‘That’s okay then. You want something else?’

‘No, I’m fine thanks. The sandwich was enough. I’ll just finish my drink and get back.’

They chatted for a few more minutes, then Claudia returned to her office. Her phone was ringing, and she answered it before sitting down.

‘Claudia Bell.’

‘It’s James.’

‘Oh.’ She felt quite shocked. He very rarely rang her on her company phone. ‘Did you want something?’

‘To see how you went on at the doctors. I thought you might ring me.’

‘I haven’t had time, I walked into a major issue when I finally got into work. One of our drivers has had an accident, and I’ve had lots of sorting out to do.’

‘And the doctors?’

‘He’s told me to keep a dressing on it, and he’s sending me to the Hallamshire to have it removed. It’s nothing to worry about, he says, but he wants to get it off because it’s in an awkward place.’

‘Okay. That’s good. I’ll see you later then?’

‘Yes. What time will you be home?’

‘About seven. I’m in Manchester. Depends on the Woodhead traffic. I’m… er… I’m sorry about Saturday. I shouldn’t have hit you.’

She felt her anger escalate. Shouldn’t have hit her? Didn’t the rape count then? Wasn’t it rape if the two people were married?

‘No, you shouldn’t,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’ve got to go, there’s another call coming through. I’ll see you later.’ She put down the receiver clenching her fists angrily. He hadn’t said a word about it the previous day, he had waited until she was at work and wouldn’t be able to respond.

She sat at her desk and pulled her keyboard towards her.

Half an hour later she had a list of six potential properties that were all to let. She had specified a minimum of two bedrooms in her search, and she was pleased with the properties that search had delivered to her.

Tony’s wife, Donna, rang her just before five, to say that Tony was comfortable, his leg wasn’t too badly broken, and she and the girls would be staying the night in Penrith to be near to him.

Claudia told her the company would cover her expenses and to submit all receipts when she got back, then disconnected. She sat for a few minutes watching as the evening shift took over from the daytime people, then saw Frank Allen approaching her own office as he arrived to take on his duties as night manager.

‘Hi, Frank,’ she said. ‘Have you heard about Tony?’

‘Silly bugger should have just hit the dog,’ Frank said, in his usual forthright way. ‘Now he’s going to be off work for weeks, and a young family to keep.’

Claudia smiled at him. ‘Stop being so grumpy. At least he’s alive. The truck’s a wreck, it could have been so much worse. Anyway, his wife has just contacted me, he’s doing well.’

‘Oh, that makes it all okay then.’ The growl was still in his voice. ‘And let’s hope the bloody dog’s doing well, and its bloody owners.’

‘Oh, shut up, you narky old man,’ Claudia laughed. ‘Right, these are my hand over notes, no problems apart from Tony. I sent Adam up with the DAF to rescue the load, and he’s bringing it back here. We don’t know if any of that got damaged. He should be back by eight.’

‘We collecting for the lad?’

She nodded towards a cardboard box on her desk, that had a crudely cut slit on the top. ‘There’s a notice in the canteen telling everybody, so quite a few drivers have been by and put in something.’

Frank took out his wallet and withdrew two twenty-pound notes. He stuffed them in the top of the box and once again Claudia laughed.

‘Bit of a softy, then, Frank?’

‘Get off home and let me sit down.’

She stood and waited for him to sit in her chair, then planted a kiss on his head. ‘See you tomorrow.’

He rubbed the top of his head. ‘Get off me, that’s sexual harassment in the workplace, that is.’

‘And you love it,’ she called, as she exited into the central office.

She drove home, switching her mind off from work issues. She really wanted to spend an hour with Heather, going through the list of properties, but if James didn’t arrive home until seven, that wouldn’t be possible. She didn’t expect James would be going out again, so the evening would be spent keeping the peace, maybe watching some crime series at nine, and bed at ten. The list would have to wait until she knew James was going to be away.

Over dinner, he explained he would be away Tuesday and Wednesday night, the first night in Leeds and the second in Newcastle. She nodded and tried not to let the inner ‘whoopee’ show on her face.

They watched Silent Witness and almost before the show ended, James stood and said goodnight. ‘Early start tomorrow,’ he explained, ‘I’ll be getting up at six. Will you be up to do breakfast?’

She quickly counted to ten and said yes.

She blew out the candles and locked everything up, but before locking the back door she stepped out into the garden. The work she had done over the weekend showed, and with the exterior light on it looked to be a sanctuary. She stayed for five minutes, aware of shouting coming from Heather’s house, and then heard a crash of glass. It was followed by silence, and Claudia had no idea what to do.

She moved back inside, locked and bolted the door and headed into the lounge. She picked up her phone and texted.

You okay? xx

It was ten minutes before she received the reply.

I’m fine. He’s a drunk dickhead. xx

Donna called early Tuesday morning to say Tony was doing well, and they were hoping to get him home sometime Wednesday, so she and the girls would be staying an extra night to save having to drive home then back again.

Claudia chatted with her for a while, then put down the phone with a smile. That had been good news, and an earlier phone call to Heather had led them to agreeing to a wine night at Claudia’s, so today life was good.

It proved to be a day of lorry drivers being where they should be, loads not being contaminated, and no delays at Dover, so there was very little on the handover sheet for Frank.

She called at the supermarket on the way home, picked up some nibbles and Prosecco, then headed home. She lit the fire and the candles and took out the printed sheets she had hidden in her laptop case. She truly didn’t want James getting any idea that she might be wanting to move out; he must have no sight of these documents.

She was glancing through them for the third time when Heather pushed open the back door. ‘It’s me,’ she called. ‘Shall I lock it now?’

‘Yes, please. And bring the wine, it’s in the fridge.’

Heather entered waving the bottle of wine and wearing pink pyjamas.

Claudia laughed. ‘God, we’re so predictable.’ Her own pyjamas were tartan. ‘Comfort first, glamour second. Where’s Owen?’

Heather opened the wine and poured them a glass each. ‘You’ll only need one guess. So. Let’s see the properties then. I’ve been looking forward to this all day – how sad is that?’

Claudia held up her hand. ‘Tell me about last night, first. I was worried about you. I was in the back garden, just having five minutes before going to bed. Your argument was pretty vocal, and then I heard a glass smash. It’s why I texted you. What happened?’

‘It was about money. The bank hasn’t made our mortgage payment. Not enough funds, they said. When I checked, it would have taken us £20 overdrawn. He took £40 out the day before. If he hadn’t done that, everything would have been fine. I tried to talk sensibly, but because it was a serious matter and he was drunk again – and probably feeling guilty – he turned nasty.’

Heather lifted her head and showed Claudia the red mark on her neck. ‘He tried to strangle me, except he didn’t really. I only had to push him off. He wasn’t capable of killing anybody. But just to show him I was, I smashed a glass and held the jagged end up to his neck. God, I was so close, Claud, so close.’

‘Oh my God! Heather, he needs help!’

‘He’s gone for it – to the Blue Bell.’

‘Shit… you want to stay here?’

‘No, he’ll only show off and come to find me. It’s ultimatum time though. Tomorrow, when we’re both sober, and before he starts drinking again, I’m going to spell it out for him. No alcohol, or I go. There’s no cutting down on the drink clause in that, either. It’s total abstinence and attending an AA group. I’ve always managed to pay bills before, but the mortgage… that’s a whole new ball game.’

Claudia nodded. ‘Certainly is. You want to borrow some money?’

‘No, I’ll be fine. If I’d realised he’d virtually cleared out the account, I would have transferred some – I’ve savings from my wages he isn’t aware of. If he was, he’d have them as well. We’re going into the bank tomorrow to talk to them. He doesn’t know this yet. I’m going to tell them the situation and set up an account just for him, and get him off the joint account, the one we pay the bills with. I know he’ll be embarrassed, feel he’s being shown up, but I don’t care. Again, this is an ultimatum. And the mortgage payment will be there when they re-apply for it, I’ll just have to accept the bank charges. If he can’t agree, or wants to prevaricate about the accounts, then I’m gone. I can’t live like this. I’ll walk away from everything, Claud, leave him with the house that will be repossessed because he’s spent all his money on booze, and I won’t care.’

They sipped at their Prosecco and stared at the fire. The flames flickering around the logs were magnetic, soothing. The music playing softly in the background was soporific, and both women immersed themselves in their thoughts.

Claudia roused herself. ‘So, these are the properties I printed off yesterday. Have a look and see what you think.’

Heather picked them up and initially did a quick scan through them. Then she looked closely.

‘You need to go and see them. Want some company?’

Claudia nodded. ‘When is it your day off?’

‘Friday, but I’ve also got Saturday off this week. Did a swap to suit Glenys, she needed next Saturday off.’

‘Okay,’ Claudia said, ‘I’ll book a day’s holiday for Friday, and we’ll go and check them out. If any look okay from the outside, we’ll see about getting keys. And we’ll go and have something to eat, be proper ladies what lunch, yes?’

‘That sounds so good. I never seem to do anything other than worry these days, but I’m taking control now. And if Owen doesn’t agree to all my demands, we’ll be looking at the three-bedroomed properties. We can afford those rents between us.’ For the first time in weeks, both women began to feel optimistic.

Claudia laughed. ‘I almost hope he doesn’t agree. Have you stopped loving him?’

There was a moment of hesitation. ‘I don’t honestly know. I don’t want to live with him any longer, because it’s getting to the stage where its unbearable, but I suppose some small part of me will always love the man I married. I was crazy for him at the beginning, but we’ve both changed and it’s simply not working. If the drinking stopped, I believe we could get back what we had, but there’s no chance if he doesn’t follow my rules. No chance at all. Maybe if we’d had children it would have been different…’

Claudia stared into the fire, knowing she could feel no love for James. One bruise too many had killed it. She was thankful her friend hadn’t had to suffer violence; with alcohol the scenario could have been so different.

‘Look, let’s leave it like this. There are two three-bedroomed properties. I don’t think it’s fair that I take up a family-size property, so although I like both of them, I wouldn’t consider them, with hindsight. The two-bedroomed are ideal, if it’s just for me. So, we have time for decisions after your day with Owen tomorrow. If things don’t work out, we’ll see about getting keys, or meeting up with the estate agents, for the three-bed houses. Plan, pal?’ She held up her hand for a high five, and Heather responded.

‘Plan, pal,’ she said. There was a pause. ‘When did the violence start, Claud?’

Claudia gave a slight laugh. ‘Long before anyone was aware of it. It started that Christmas when we lost Ella. He hit me for the first time on Christmas Day. I hid it for ages – you noticed the bruises before anyone else. But it stops now. He’s never forced me to have sex before, and that made me feel dirty. I don’t love him, I don’t want him, and there’s nothing keeping me here now Harry and Zoe have gone. Whatever you decide after tomorrow, I’m leaving anyway.’

Heather didn’t say anything; she was focused on the properties. ‘I like this one.’ She handed a sheet back to Claudia. ‘It’s above a shop, which means no garden, and it’s massive, three huge bedrooms. There’s only one entrance door, and that’s at the bottom of the stairs leading from the street up to the flat. In other words, it’s secure. He’s not going to take kindly to you leaving, you know. He’s going to hunt you down. You need to feel safe as well as be safe.’

Chapter 4

Owen had a headache. And right at that moment he couldn’t have cared less about his bloody wife. The nasty cow.

‘Mr and Mrs Gower, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.’ Katherine