The Black Path (27 page)

Frank replies without looking back. ‘You have it.’

By the time he’s buckled up, switched on the ignition and pulled away from the kerb, the milk has disappeared and so has Rob. The boys who were playing football a few minutes earlier have drifted off somewhere. The street is deserted.

So there’s nobody to witness the stocky man who emerges from a white transit van parked at the far end of the road. He’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Shading his eyes with one hand, he surveys the street before leaning back into the van and taking a bulky manilla envelope off the dashboard. He walks up the street, stopping at the door where Frank stood just a few moments earlier. Then, after glancing quickly in both directions, he forces the envelope through the letterbox.

Glamorgan Tribune

– Woman Raped at the Black Path

A 23-year-old woman was drugged and raped by three men in what police have described as ‘a brutal and premeditated attack.’

The woman was lured to the Black Path in Bridgend by a man she met at The Jolly Brewer pub. Two other men were lying in wait for her there. She was drugged, sexually assaulted and left unconscious near the site of the old blast furnace, where a cyclist found her in the early hours of Sunday morning. The woman is being treated at the Princess of Wales Hospital.

Police believe the attack took place between 10.30 p.m. and 11.30 p.m. on Saturday night. All three suspects are said to be in their late 20s. The first is described as white, with fair hair, blue eyes and a Cardiff accent. The other two suspects wore balaclavas. One has an eagle tattoo on his right forearm. Police are appealing for witnesses who may have seen the woman leaving The Jolly Brewer with the first man between 10 p.m. and 10.30 p.m. All information will be treated as confidential.

***

The front door opens before Frank has time to insert his key.

‘Where’ve you been?’ Amanda asks. ‘I’ve been trying to reach you all day. I was worried sick!’

She looks flustered
, Frank thinks. But that’s nothing new. His wife looks flustered most days. And today she has every reason to be. She just doesn’t know it yet.

Several hours have passed since Frank spoke to Helen’s neighbour – hours he has put to good use, making calls and gathering every piece of information he could find.

‘Can I at least come inside first?’ he asks. ‘Or would you rather have the whole street knowing our business?’

She steps aside to let him pass. ‘Angela’s here,’ she says. ‘From Helen’s work.’

Frank removes his jacket and hangs it at the bottom of the stairs. ‘I know who Angela is.’

‘Do you? I don’t see how.’

Frank frowns. ‘Helen’s mentioned her often enough.’ Not for the first time, he wonders when his wife simply stopped listening to things that don’t really interest her.

‘She’s in the kitchen,’ Amanda says, hovering at his side. ‘She says Helen hasn’t been at work all week.’

‘I know,’ Frank replies. ‘And I know why. It’s bad news, I’m afraid.’

His wife’s face whitens. ‘What’s happened? Is she hurt?’

‘It’s Owen.’

Amanda’s hand rises to her mouth.

‘He’s not dead,’ Frank says firmly. He reaches for his wife’s arm but she pulls away from him and stands with both arms held in front of her chest, elbows tucked at her sides, hands clutched tightly together. She looks as if she’s bracing herself for something. ‘He’s in hospital,’ Frank continues. ‘Helen is with him.’

As quickly as he can, he tells his wife everything he knows. After driving to Helen’s house this morning and talking to her neighbour, he called up one of his drinking buddies at the TA and was eventually put through to someone who confirmed that Owen had been injured. Next, he contacted the military hospital in Birmingham, telling them he was Helen’s stepfather. Finally, after trying and failing to locate a liaison officer named Sue Blackwell, he’d spoken at length to one of the nurses.

‘She says Helen is bearing up well. And she’s not on her own. She has someone with her. A pushy young woman called Siân.’

‘Siân?’ Amanda thinks for a moment. ‘Helen’s never mentioned any Siân.’

‘I didn’t think so,’ says Frank. ‘And from what the nurse said, I’m not sure I like the sound of her.’

They walk into the kitchen. Angela is sitting at the table, cradling a mug of tea. She lifts her head as Frank and Amanda enter the room. ‘Is something the matter?’

‘It’s my son-in-law, Owen,’ Frank says, and quickly repeats what he’d just told his wife.

Angela eyes widen. She shifts in her seat. ‘Oh my God,’ she says. ‘I was just saying to Mrs Powell that Helen hasn’t been at work all week. Of course I covered for her. I told the boss she was off sick. If I’d known things were this bad –’

‘When did you last see her?’ Frank asks.

‘Last Friday.’

‘You went out after work, didn’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you haven’t heard from her since?’

Angela colours slightly. ‘No.’

‘What’s the matter?’ Frank asks. ‘Did you two fall out or something?’

‘Of course not! We were just out having a laugh. Helen was pretty drunk. We all were. But then our friend Kath collapsed, and by the time the ambulance came I couldn’t see Helen anywhere.’

Amanda clears her throat. ‘So what you’re saying is, you just left her there. A young woman, drunk, on her own.’

‘I didn’t know where she was. She just disappeared. And I had to take Kath to the hospital.’

‘I see,’ Amanda sniffs. ‘Well, so long as Kath’s alright.’

‘She could have died,’ Angela says, welling up. ‘Someone spiked her drink.’

‘Go easy on the girl, Amanda,’ Frank says. ‘Can’t you see she’s upset enough already?’ He turns to Angela. ‘So let me get this straight. The last time you spoke to Helen was on Friday night?’

Angela nods. ‘It’s not that I haven’t tried. I have.’

‘Not hard enough, obviously,’ Amanda chips in.

Frank glares at her. ‘Please, Amanda! You’re not helping!’ He smiles reassuringly at Angela. ‘Is there anything else you can tell us? What about a woman called Siân? Have you heard of her?’

Angela shakes her head. ‘No. Who’s she?’

‘She’s with Helen now,’ Frank says. ‘At the hospital in Birmingham.’

Angela thinks for a moment. ‘I don’t know her,’ she says. ‘But I think I might have spoken to her on the phone. I tried to call Helen. I really did. But she never answered. I left messages and sent texts, but she never replied. Then I called again and some woman answered Helen’s phone.’

‘When was this?’ Amanda asks.

‘Sunday. Sunday afternoon. She told me Helen was sleeping and she wouldn’t be coming into work.’

‘And you’ve left it until now to tell us? I’ve been cursing my daughter for not returning my calls and now you’re telling me that some woman we’ve never even heard of has her phone?’

‘Stop it, Amanda!’ Frank says. ‘Go on, Angela. What else did she say?’

‘Not a lot. It was more the way she spoke to me. She was rude and … strange.’

‘Strange? In what way?’

‘Like she was Helen’s only friend in the world. Like she was in control. And she refused to give her name. When I asked who she was, she cut me off.’

‘Right,’ says Frank, checking his watch. ‘I need to make a few calls. Amanda, can you pack us a suitcase, please? First thing tomorrow we’re driving up to Birmingham.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

‘Good morning, Mrs McGrath.’ Sue Blackwell’s tone is even more cheery than usual, as if she’s been wrong-footed or feels she has some making up to do. ‘Sorry I didn’t see you yesterday. It was my day off. How are you feeling?’

Slumped on a grey plastic chair next to the nurses’ station, Helen barely glances up at her. ‘I’m okay,’ she says, her voice sounding every bit as weary as she feels. Her back aches. Her eyes are sore from lack of sleep.

‘Are you sure?’

Helen raises her head to offer a smile and sees the red welt on Sue’s cheek. She speaks without thinking. ‘What happened to your face?’

Sue puts her hand to her cheek and smiles ruefully. ‘It was your husband, Mrs McGrath.’

‘What? Owen would never hit a woman.’

‘No, of course not. It’s not what you think. I checked on him earlier and, well, he lashed out at me. Involuntarily. It’s quite common in trauma cases.’

‘He’s awake?’

‘No. He’s still unconscious. But believe it or not, this is a good sign.’

Another smile.

Helen sighs and lowers her head. The doctor had told her that it might take a few days for Owen to come round fully. The phrase ‘quite common in trauma cases’ is becoming a bit of a mantra. Not that this makes it any more comforting.

Sue takes a seat beside her. ‘Your friend not with you today?’

‘No, she’s gone into town for a few things.’

The truth is, Helen no longer trusts Siân. How can she, after the other night? No harsh words have been exchanged. She didn’t challenge Siân about Jackson when they got back to the hotel. She lost her nerve. She isn’t proud of herself but, really, what good would it have done? Siân was clearly in an altered state. Things could have escalated pretty quickly. Rightly or wrongly, Helen decided that it wasn’t worth the risk.

But of course she’s wary. She’s been avoiding Siân as much as possible. Yesterday she was up and out of the hotel bright and early and didn’t return until after dark. Had she seen Sue yesterday, Helen would have asked her about alternative sleeping arrangements at the hospital. She’s about to broach the subject when Sue speaks.

‘I had a phone call earlier,’ she says brightly. ‘It was your father, Frank.’

‘Frank’s not my father.’

‘Oh. Perhaps I misunderstood. He said you were his daughter.’

‘Stepdaughter,’ Helen corrects her. ‘What did he want?’

Sue looks confused. ‘He wanted to know how you are. He and your mother are worried about you. He said they’d left messages but they’ve not heard anything.’

Helen frowns. ‘I haven’t had any messages.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure. I may be tired and emotional but I’m not stupid.’ Helen checks herself and flushes with embarrassment. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.’

Sue tilts her head, offers another of her professional smiles.

‘That’s okay. He said something else. Your friend Angela? From work? She’s also been calling you and sending texts.’

Helen reaches into her pocket for her phone. There are no texts or missed calls.

‘Does anyone else have access to your phone?’ Sue asks.

‘Not really.’

‘Only apparently Angela called and someone answered your phone. A woman.’ Sue pauses. ‘We think it was your friend, Siân.’

Helen’s mind races. Not only has Siân been sneaking around with Jackson. She’s also been intercepting phone calls and, perhaps, deleting voice mails and text messages. Why would she do that?

‘There’s one more thing,’ Sue says. ‘It’s a little delicate.’

‘Go on.’

‘When I arrived today and got the message saying your stepfather had called and that he and your mother were worried about you – well, to be honest, I was a bit surprised.’

‘Why?’

‘Because your friend told me that both your parents were dead.’ Sue pauses. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how well do you know this Siân person?’

Better than you think
, Helen thinks. She shrugs. ‘Not that well.’ She makes a mental note to keep her phone with her at all times.

‘Frank and your mum are driving up today,’ Sue says in a brighter voice. ‘They should be here this soon. They know all about Owen.’

Helen blinks. ‘They’re coming here?’

Sue looks puzzled.

‘Shouldn’t they be? They’re your –’

She sounds as if she’s about to say ‘parents’ but stops herself. ‘They’re your family.’

Helen’s phone rings. The screen says the number is withheld.

‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ asks Sue. ‘It might be them. Maybe they’re stuck in traffic.’

Helen knows exactly who it is. But she answers anyway.

‘Helen!’ Siân says. ‘I’m in Selfridges, at The Bullring. I’ve found the most perfect dress for you. You have to come and try it on.’

‘I’m at the hospital,’ Helen replies, as evenly as she can.

‘But you’ll want to look nice for Owen when he wakes up, won’t you? There’s a woman here doing free makeovers. We’ll be back at the hospital in no time. A couple of hours tops.’

Helen looks at Sue and silently mouths the words,
It’s her!

Sue knits her eyebrows and makes a circling motion with her hand, urging her to wind up the call.

Helen turns her head away.

‘Okay,’ she says. ‘I’ll call a cab.’

She’s vaguely aware of Sue rising from her chair.

‘Who are you with?’ Siân asks.

‘No-one. I’m in the cafeteria.’

‘I knew you’d be hungry. That’s what you get for skipping breakfast. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were avoiding me.’

‘Don’t be daft. I just wasn’t hungry, that’s all.’ As she speaks, Helen feels her stomach rumble.

‘Right, well I’ll wait for you here then.’

‘Great,’ Helen says. ‘I’ll see you there.’

She has no intention of going to meet Siân – but there’s no need for her to know that.

‘Are you sure you’re alright, Mrs McGrath?’

Helen looks up to see Sue standing over her again, a concerned look on her face.

She has a way of talking that makes Helen feel ever so slightly patronized. But Sue isn’t her enemy here. ‘I’m fine,’ she says.

‘You’re not really going to meet her, are you?’

‘Of course not.’

Sue looks relieved. ‘Good. Well, it sounds to me as if you might be hungry. Shall we get you something to eat?’

‘What about Owen?’

‘They’ll call me if there’s any change.’

At the cafeteria, Helen finds an empty table while Sue joins the queue.

‘They’ve stopped serving breakfast,’ she says when she returns. ‘But I’ve got you some sandwiches to keep you going.’

‘It’s busy in here today,’ Helen says, taking a bite of a cheese and tomato sandwich.

Sue lowers her voice. ‘They brought more men in last night. I expect these are the families.’