Authors: Gina Blaxill
The men got out of the car. ‘Don’t try anything,’ the man who’d taken the memory stick said. ‘We’ll be right outside, and we’ll be disposing of this
too.’ He picked up Reece’s cricket bag and got out, slamming the door. I heard a click as the doors locked.
‘On any other day I’d hit the roof about that,’ Reece said in a small voice. ‘But right now I’m more concerned about whether they’ll be disposing of
us
.’
‘We’ve got to think. There must be a way to escape.’ I could see through the window that the men were standing just a few paces away, presumably discussing what to do next.
Kyle had a blank expression on his face – I hadn’t got the measure of him yet – but the other guy was waving his hands about, evidently worked up. I wondered who he was. He seemed
to be in charge. Even given how close they were, it might have been worth trying to do a runner – but we were locked in, and Kyle had the key. And the other man had a gun . . .
‘D’you think they’re going to kill us?’ Reece’s question hung in the air.
I swallowed. ‘They tried to kill Cherie.’
It was the same car – it was so obvious now that I wondered how I hadn’t noticed the moment it had appeared. But everything had happened so quickly – I hadn’t had a
chance to think, let alone make connections. What really worried me was that the men had what they wanted – the USB. If they were going to let us go, surely they would have by now . . .
‘Oh God!’ Reece’s voice wobbled. ‘What the hell have we got ourselves into?’
‘I should have listened to you,’ I said in a small voice. ‘I should have gone to the police.’
‘Fat lot of good saying that now! It’s my fault too. I could’ve thought, “Screw Sophie!” and gone myself.’
I unclicked my seat belt and shuffled along the seat and reached out to Reece. He shifted so he could put his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned against him, pressing my hand to his chest. It
flitted through my mind that under any other circumstances this would have felt weird. This was very definitely a cuddle and not a hug. But that didn’t seem to matter – anything that
made me feel even slightly comforted was a good thing right now, and being close to Reece did that.
Reece gave me a squeeze. ‘Maybe Mr McIntyre will be on the case – assuming they were telling the truth and he isn’t in on this.’
‘On a scale of one to ten, how convinced do you think he was by your story?’
‘About a five?’ Reece pulled a face. ‘You know how I moan about Mum being clingy? Well, right now I’d be quite happy if she was the most paranoid mother under the sun,
cos at least that would mean someone would be freaking about where I was!’
I ran my tongue over my lips. My throat felt dry – but somehow I didn’t think the men were going to bother with niceties like water. ‘We really are on our own.’
‘Bloody useless detectives, aren’t we? Hey – you’re shaking.’
I gave him a mirthless smile. ‘So are you.’
‘Guys!’ Kyle tapped on the window. ‘Less of that.’
‘Oh, sod off,’ Reece muttered, but we drew apart and I slid back to my seat. Reece reached for my hand and I let him take it. I didn’t see how they could complain about that.
Kyle noticed as he got in, but he didn’t say anything, and the other man was too busy looking at his phone. As the engine fired up, I couldn’t help feeling that we could have used that
time alone better – hatching a plan or something. But the moment was gone now.
We drove along the motorway for what seemed like ages. The road signs told me that we were heading west, away from London and everything I knew. After a while we turned off on
to an A-road that seemed to be full of roundabouts, and I lost track of where we were. I’d read a book once where the main character had been abducted. She’d pretended the car journey
was making her sick and got the kidnappers to pull over and let her out, and then she’d managed to get away. I doubted I could get that to work – these guys didn’t seem that
gullible, and it wasn’t like there was anywhere to run to. The only good news was that they’d given us something to drink.
Eventually Kyle took us on to quieter roads and through a succession of villages. It was between two of these, in a particularly desolate area of countryside, that we stopped. Our destination
seemed to be a little cottage painted a washed-out shade of pink, set away from the road down a bumpy track. I could tell from the state of the garden that it hadn’t been lived in recently.
The word to describe this place was ‘desolate’.
The men bundled us out of the car. The one in charge kicked over a flower pot by the door. Underneath was a key. He opened the door to reveal a bare porch, empty coat hooks either side. Once we
were inside he locked the door.
‘Keep an eye on them,’ he told Kyle, and disappeared through into a lounge area. I heard footsteps as he moved around, presumably checking the place out. I glanced through the door
into the sitting room. There wasn’t a lot of furniture, just a couple of sofas that looked about twenty years old, an old-fashioned-looking television and some prints on the wall. Everything
was coated with dust. There was no way this was someone’s house – perhaps it was a holiday cottage of some sort.
After about five minutes the man returned. ‘I’ve secured the pantry. Best room to stow these two. Nice heavy lock.’
‘What a wonderful selling point,’ Reece muttered. ‘Is that what the estate agents tell all the visitors?’
The man stared at him, clearly deciding whether or not that merited a reply. He probably thought Reece was just being mouthy. I knew better – this dark kind of humour was Reece’s way
of facing reality when things got bad. He’d been like this when his dad died. In the end the guy just told him to shut it. We were marched through into the lounge and then along to the
kitchen. There was a heavy wooden door leading to what looked like a large cupboard, shelves stacked with cans.
‘Help yourselves to the food,’ Kyle said. ‘We’ll bring some water. Wouldn’t want you dying of thirst.’
‘Hilarious,’ Reece murmured. He rubbed his arms. ‘Christ, it’s cold in here.’
‘I’ll see if I can find some blankets,’ Kyle said.
‘It’s not a freaking hotel,’ I heard the other man say as the door closed on us. ‘Quit being nice. What the hell are we going to do with them?’
‘Your decision, Patrick.’ The rest of Kyle’s reply was lost as they moved away. Patrick? Unless it was a big coincidence, we’d finally met Patrick from the email
messages: Aiden’s former friend, who didn’t trust Aiden and Cherie – and had nasty associates . . .
I went to the door and rattled the handle, without much optimism. Patrick had been right when he’d said it was a heavy lock.
‘No getting out of this one,’ I said, watching Reece as he moved around pressing his hands against the stones. I couldn’t see him very well through the gloom; I’d tried
the light switch by the door, but the bulb hanging above us had blown some time ago.
We sat down together and leaned against the wall facing the door.
‘So . . .’ Reece said. The word hung in the air for some seconds, hopeless, empty, summing up the situation we found ourselves in.
‘So nothing. We’re well and truly stuffed.’
The only thing in our favour – ironically – was that we didn’t have much evidence against them beyond Dani’s iPhone backup. That might make them decide to let us go. If
they were going to kill us, surely they would have by now?
‘Soph?’ Reece asked. I realized I must have been silent a while. I shifted into a more comfortable position, drawing my knees up to my chest, already feeling the chill. For a moment
I considered asking Reece if I could huddle up to him – and maybe not just for the heat – but instead I heard myself say, ‘I was just weighing up what they’re likely to
do.’
He let out a hollow laugh. ‘Obvious, isn’t it? Look at what they tried to do to Aiden and Cherie. They’ve got the formula. Now they’re disposing of the
evidence.’
After about half an hour we heard the click of the bolts on the door being pushed back, followed by the key turning. Kyle appeared with a couple of musty-smelling blankets and
a big bottle of water. He tossed them on to the floor.
‘Either of you need to take a bathroom trip?’
Both of us nodded. Kyle took me out first.
‘Who owns this place?’ I asked as I climbed a narrow staircase. Kyle had positioned himself behind me so I couldn’t do a runner.
Kyle made a non-committal noise. ‘That’s the bathroom straight ahead. Don’t try anything clever.’
I glanced around the landing before going inside. It looked like there were only two other rooms, so the place couldn’t be very big. The bathroom was fairly clean, considering how dusty
the rest of the house was. The window was tiny, but it was big enough to show that we were in the middle of nowhere. There was a road in the distance, probably further away than it looked. There
were certainly no houses I could see and no sounds of life.
Kyle rapped on the door. Quickly I opened the bathroom cupboard, but there was just a toothbrush and a packet of aspirin – nothing that could be of any use.
As Kyle took me back downstairs, I said, ‘Our parents will notice we’re gone soon. They’ll call the police.’
Kyle said nothing, and I found myself back in the pantry as he took Reece upstairs. I shivered and settled down, pulling one of the blankets over me and trying to ignore the smell.
At about six o’clock I found a can opener and opened a tin of peach slices. I offered them to Sophie.
She shook her head. ‘Do you ever think of anything other than your stomach?’
‘I’ve not eaten since six this morning, and I can’t see how starving myself is in any way productive.’ I fished out a slice from the syrup and slid it into my mouth. It
tasted of nothing and I swallowed quickly.
Although my earlier panic had dulled, I was still very, very afraid. I’d desperately tried to come up with escape ideas, but none of them seemed like they’d work. I thought about
Neve and Mum. Neve would be at the kitchen table right now with her crayons. Mum would be preparing dinner, grumbling about me not letting her know if I was joining them. It was likely that
she’d tried to ring my phone, but my not picking up wouldn’t cause much alarm. She’d assume I was playing cricket. My teammates would call when I didn’t turn up for the
minibus, but again, that would be my mobile number, not home – and as we always took a reserve player, they probably wouldn’t be too bothered.
Christ, if I didn’t get out of this, what would that mean for Mum? She’d already lost Dad. I didn’t want to imagine what losing me might do to her. And would Neve even remember
me as she got older? The thought that I might be forgotten was really terrifying. I felt horribly guilty. I’d chosen Sophie over my family. Now I was facing the consequences.
‘Sorry I got you into this.’
I glanced sideways. Sophie was slumped beside me, bundled in blankets up to her chin. I waved my hand in front of her.
‘OK?’
‘No. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be here. Your mum was right when she said I was bad for you.’
I shrugged. I didn’t have it in me to be angry with her any more.
‘Why did you come to Heathrow?’ Sophie asked. She had a cobweb in her hair. I reached across to brush it off. ‘You didn’t have to.’
‘Because I wanted to prevent the sale of a dangerous formula, perhaps?’ That was only half the truth. I came because despite what I’ve said, and despite how you infuriate me, I
still care about you, I thought. But I didn’t say so. She knew, anyway.
‘Sophie,’ I said, laying my hand on her arm. It wasn’t really the right moment, but it might be the only chance I was going to get. ‘I know what happened at
Paloma’s party.’
When she didn’t respond I said, ‘Paloma told me. We had a gossip in Waitrose the other day – in the chutney aisle.’ If Sophie raised a smile at that, it was there and
gone in an instant. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I had no idea!’
‘Why weren’t you there? School was hell for me afterwards – everyone calling me a psycho for going after Zoe like that. Completely getting the wrong idea – I can’t
even begin to describe it. And I look awful in that video, but I was trying to surprise you by showing I’d made an effort. I was really banking on you being there, Reece . . .’
Sophie had a helpless expression in her eyes. That told me exactly how deep this had gone. I bit my lip, trying not to get too hopeful about Sophie admitting she’d made an effort for
me.
‘You were acting funny after the play. Then you ignored my texts. I thought you weren’t bothered about me any more.’
‘Of course I was bothered! That was why I never tried with your new mates – it felt like they were taking you away from me.’
‘You thought I’d let that happen?’
‘I’m not the easiest friend to have.’ Sophie looked away. ‘I know that, but seeing you having fun with other people made me think I was in the way. And I saw photos of
you at the bar that night enjoying yourself.’
There was a creak from outside. We both tensed, but when nothing happened we relaxed.
‘Soph,’ I said, ‘I’m sorry I let you down. But you get why I didn’t come to the party, right?’ She nodded. ‘Everyone disappoints you once in a while.
That doesn’t mean you can’t trust them any more.’
Sophie’s voice was almost inaudible. ‘I’ve been let down so many times, Reece. It’s so hard to trust anyone now. It’s easier to run away.’
‘At risk of sounding like a shrink . . . if you run away from everything, one day you’ll look round and there’ll be nothing left. Some things are worth sticking with, even if
they aren’t perfect.’ I paused. ‘Hey, go me! That was pretty profound.’
She made a snorting sound; for a moment I wasn’t sure whether it was laughter or crying. ‘Are you saying you’re worth sticking with?’ she asked.
‘Right now you’ve not got much choice.’
Sophie paused. I got the impression she was weighing up whether to say something or not. ‘Those girls . . . You know, the posh ones that joined your mates sometimes. Was there ever
anything going on with that blonde one? She liked you. I could tell.’
I wasn’t sure what she meant at first. Then I realized. ‘Were you
jealous
?’