Obsession (78 page)

‘
Je reviens
,’ Thibault smiled pleasantly, and left the room.

‘What did he say?’ Phillip snapped.

‘He’ll be back,’ Cristos said.

Long minutes ticked by as the three of them sat there looking out through the glass partition at the hustle and bustle of the police station.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be at that awards ceremony?’ Radcliffe said to Cristos in an effort to break the tension.

‘I’ve had it!’ Cristos raged, leaping to his feet. ‘I’ve fucking had it! They’re going to open up that villa tonight if I have to use their own fucking guns to shoot the locks off myself,’ and he stormed out of the room after Thibault.

The lights were on on the veranda. Beyond was a sea of inky darkness, peppered with the bobbing lights of yachts. Corrie was on the floor huddled up against the wall, shivering and shuddering with mindless terror. Annalise’s lifeless body, bound up, beaten and awash with blood was only feet away. Luke was perched on the edge of the wall. He hadn’t said anything for some time, but a while ago he’d asked Corrie if she’d care for something to eat. Corrie had been unable to answer. Now, he was just watching her.

At last he moved, gesturing with the gun for her to stand.

Corrie shrank away, but as he started towards her she fumbled her hands up over the wall and clinging to it, shakily pulled herself to her feet.

‘Now you be getting onto the wall there,’ he said.

Corrie’s eyes rounded with horror.

‘Get onto the wall!’

Somehow she managed to scramble up until she was kneeling on the narrow ledge. She went no further, if she stood she would fall.

Luke turned away, covering his face with his hands. After a while Corrie realized he was crying. On the wall in front of her was a pool of her own tears, dripping unchecked from her eyes, her nose, her mouth. When finally he looked up his face was like a cadaver. He reached out for Corrie’s hand, steadying her as she started to topple. Then very softly, he said,

‘It’s time for us now, Corrie. Both of us, together. Be getting onto your feet.’

‘No,’ Corrie sobbed, as he tried to help her. ‘Please, please, Luke, don’t make me do it.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, gently, ‘if there was any other way … Now just you be getting up there.’

Clinging to the post beside her, Corrie pulled herself to her feet. ‘Luke, please,’ she begged. ‘You can get help …’

‘You will help me, Corrie. When we reach the other side …’

‘Oh Luke,’ she choked. ‘Luke, please, just listen to me …’

‘There’s nothing you can say now, Corrie. I have to die. After what I’ve done to my own daughter, I have to.’

‘But Luke …’

‘I didn’t know,’ he went on dully. ‘Not at first. And by the time I did it was too late. I was sleeping with my own daughter.’

‘But you could have stopped.’

He shook his head. ‘I tried, please believe me, Corrie, I tried. But I was in love with her. I’ll always be in love with her. That’s why you must come to the other side with us. You have to keep me away from her, Corrie. You have to help me.’

Corrie whimpered as the pathetic plea touched the roots of her heart. ‘Luke, what is it?’ she gasped. ‘Why have you done this? You’re so calm now, what made you …’

‘I’ve exorcised him, Corrie. I’m rid of him now. I did all he wanted me to do, all he should have done himself …’

‘Who, Luke? Who are you talking about?’

‘My father, of course. I’ve done to my own daughter now what he did to his. But I finished it. She won’t have to live like Siobhan. I’ve released her.’ His eyes came up to Corrie’s. ‘I know I hurt you, Corrie,’ he said, ‘but I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t help myself, please try to understand that. It should have been Annalise, not you … Maybe it should have been Siobhan … I don’t know anymore. All I know is that I need you to help me.’

‘But we don’t have to die for that,’ Corrie said. ‘I’ll give you my help …’

‘No.’ He was shaking his head. ‘You’ll go to Cristos and you’ll forget about me.’

‘That’s not true. I want to help you, Luke.’

‘Then die with me.’

For a moment, as sobs of desperation shuddered through her her words wouldn’t come. ‘I don’t want to die, Luke,’ she pleaded. ‘Please, don’t make me die.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and raising the gun he placed it against her temple.

‘No! No, no, please!’ she sobbed, squeezing her eyes.

‘It’s all right, I’ll be with you,’ he murmured, and as his finger tightened on the trigger, the last thing Corrie knew was the sudden jerk of her body as it was lifted from the wall and the resounding echoes of the explosion following her into a void of darkness.

– 30 –

CRISTOS RAISED HIS
eyes to look across the room at Paula. Her pretty, girlish face showed the strain she was under and for a moment he was tempted to reach out for her. He resisted the impulse, and was on the point of turning away
when
she looked up. She smiled, as though to give him reassurance, but her anguish was too deep to disguise.

All of them were having difficulty coming to terms with what had happened, Paula most of all, Cristos thought. The events of the past few days were proving damn near impossible for him to handle but what a chaotic and insane world this must seem to her, who had never travelled far out of Amberside.

He’d called her himself, asking her to come. Hurt him as it did, he had understood when his mother had told him that there was always the chance Corrie wouldn’t want him when she came round: that he had to face the fact that Luke might have damaged her so badly she would be unable to face a man again. It had scared him half to death when Horowitz had agreed with his mother, but he had gone ahead and called Paula, since Horowitz and the hospital doctor had agreed that there should be someone there whom Corrie loved and trusted when she regained consciousness.

That they had managed to save her life was, Cristos knew now, nothing short of a miracle. The gun was already at her head, Luke’s finger squeezing the trigger, when Inspector Thibault had fired. At the same instant one of his men, who had crept silently across the veranda, had snatched Corrie from the wall.

Hearing the gun shot Cristos and Phillip, who had been made to wait outside, both dashed into the house before the police could stop them. By the time they reached the veranda the officer who had caught Corrie was carrying her inside. Seeing her Cristos knew a moment of such profound terror that unmindful of her injuries he had tried to wrench her away from the policeman.

‘It’s all right,’ the man said, letting Cristos take her, ‘she’s alive. We got there …’ He stopped as a cry of unadulterated agony careened eerily over the sea.

‘Annalise! Annalise!’ Phillip wailed, hugging her to him. ‘Oh my God! My darling. Annalise!’

Cristos had buried his face in Corrie’s neck as Inspector Thibault gently eased Phillip to his feet while another officer lifted Annalise to carry her down to the ambulances already arriving. Throughout the panicked journey to Nice Cristos had sat with Corrie thanking God for the temper that had forced him to go after Thibault to tell him that he personally would pay for all the damage done to the villa if they would just stop wasting time and break in. Reluctantly Thibault had agreed, but there was no hesitancy in him at all once they had got through the gates – the blood spattered taxi was right outside the door.

Now, as Cristos and Paula sat either side of the hospital bed staring down at Corrie’s pale and battered face, their thoughts were running parallel. They’d known, very soon after Corrie had been brought to the hospital, that she would live, but what no one had been able to tell them was what effect the trauma might have on her – or indeed how lasting it would be. They were both aware of what had been done to her, and it was Cristos, Paula knew, who had most to fear from what the future might hold.

Right now Corrie was still under sedation, though an hour or so ago she had begun drifting in and out of consciousness. As yet she had recognized neither of them, but the doctor hadn’t shown any surprise at that. It was his hope that Corrie would be with them again some time later that day, he’d said, then he’d left them alone to continue their vigil.

Both Cristos and Paula tensed as once again Corrie stirred. A moment or two later her eyes flickered open, and a look of confusion crossed her face as her eyes struggled for focus.

‘Corrie?’ Cristos croaked.

She turned her head towards him, and as her brow started to crease he knew that this time she was seeing him.

He smiled awkwardly, lifting her hand and bringing it to his lips, his throat was constricted with fear that she would recoil from him. Then tears rushed to his eyes as he felt the pressure of her fingers closing around his.

‘I love you, Corrie Browne,’ he said.

She smiled, but as her dry lips parted to answer she heard someone say, ‘I love you too.’

Corrie turned, seemed bewildered for a moment at seeing Paula, then suddenly she closed her eyes, her face contorting as though in terrible pain. ‘Annalise,’ she whispered. ‘Where is Annalise?’

‘I’ll get the doctor,’ Paula said.

‘Where is Annalise?’ Corrie sobbed. ‘Where is she?’

‘Ssh, it’s all right,’ Cristos soothed. ‘She’s right here at the hospital.’

‘Is she …? Cristos, tell me, was she …’

‘She’s going to be all right. She’s cut pretty bad, and she’s suffering from shock, just like you, but …’

‘But the blood, there was so much blood …’

‘I’ll explain later,’ he said. ‘But most of it wasn’t hers. Now lie still.’

At that moment the doctor came in and Cristos went to join Paula in the corridor. They watched in silence as two nurses went into the room, then Cristos started to pace. They didn’t have to wait long before the doctor came out, and both heaved a sigh of relief when they saw he was smiling.

He addressed himself to Cristos since he knew Paula didn’t speak French. ‘She’s insisting she has a bath so the nurses are preparing to give her one now,’ he said.

More waiting, such an eternity Cristos didn’t think he could stand it, but eventually the nurses came out and told them they could go in.

‘The doctor says for a few minutes only,’ one of them added.

Cristos looked at Paula.

‘Go on,’ she said. ‘I’ll wait here.’

To Cristos’s amazement when he walked into the room Corrie was sitting on the edge of the bed putting on her dressing-gown.

‘What are you doing?’ he cried in alarm.

‘I want to see Annalise. Could you take me there? Please,’ she added when he started to protest. ‘Please, Cristos, I want to see her.’

‘Corrie, the doctor didn’t say you could get out of bed.’

‘I have to see her,’ Corrie said, starting to become agitated.

‘All right, all right,’ Cristos said, putting his hands on her shoulders to calm her, then buttoning the dressing-gown himself, he put an arm around her and started to lead her from the room.

‘It’s all right, I can manage,’ she said, gently shrugging him away.

The pain of her words was like a physical blow, but Cristos lowered his arm and followed her out into the corridor.

Annalise was in the next room. Before they went in Corrie hesitated a moment, looked as though she was going to ask something, then changing her mind pushed open the door and made to walk in. She stopped, stone dead, and when Cristos looked past her it was to see Annalise’s deathly face, stitched and bandaged, lying on the pillows and Octavia sitting motionlessly beside her.

Corrie opened her mouth to speak, but her mind had frozen. She turned to Cristos. He shook his head then stood aside as Corrie walked from the room. He was about to close the door behind them when Corrie suddenly spun round and pushed it open again.

‘Get her out of here!’ she cried. ‘Get that woman away from Annalise!’

‘Sssh, ssh,’ Cristos said, trying to put his arms around her, but Corrie wrenched herself free.

‘Get her out!’ she screamed. ‘Get that bitch away from her!’ Then suddenly she was across the room swinging her fists wildly at Octavia. Octavia did nothing to defend herself, it was Cristos who pulled Corrie off.

‘Let me go!’ Corrie sobbed. ‘You don’t know what she’s done!’

‘Hey, hey,’ Cristos said, taking a firmer grip on her now. ‘Let’s just get out of here. Come on,’ and holding her by the shoulders he led her back to her own room.

When they got there Corrie sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees, burying her face. After a while, not knowing what else to do, Cristos walked over to the window.

‘Do you know?’ Corrie said in the end. ‘About Luke and Annalise, I mean?’

He turned to look at her and his heart twisted as she deliberately avoided his eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said.

‘And about the part Octavia played in it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then why did you stop me?’

‘Because it won’t prove anything now, sweetheart.’

‘Please, don’t call me that,’ she said, and lowered her head again.

They remained in silence then until Phillip knocked on the door.

‘Corrie?’ he said tentatively, coming into the room.

She lifted her head.

‘Paula came to find me,’ he said. ‘I was … Luke’s body … There was no one else to identify it.’

‘Oh, Phillip,’ Corrie groaned and held her arms out to him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, going to her. ‘I should have known … I should have realized …’

‘No. Don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault.’

Cristos watched them, the loss etched painfully in his
dark
eyes. In the end, as Corrie continued to comfort her father, and he her, Cristos walked quietly from the room.

‘You have to talk to her,’ Paula said when she and Cristos returned to the Majestic later. ‘Maybe you’d like me to do it for you?’

Cristos shook his head. ‘No, I don’t guess there’s a lot of point right now. It’s too soon …’

‘But she loves you, Cristos, I know she does. OK, it’s still early days and she’s got a heck of a lot to get over, but she wants you here, believe me.’

‘Did she tell you that?’

‘Not in so many words … But I know Corrie. I know how she feels about you.’