An Impossible Dilemma: A Psychological Thriller Novel (17 page)

Chapter 21

Emily woke in the early hours with a terrible headache like before.

I gave her some Paracetamol and climbed in bed beside her and rocked her until she was sound asleep. I prayed for what seemed like hours.

Lying awake in the dead of night always made my problems seem worse, but this one was already as bad as it could get. The most terrible part of the whole thing was that we’d left Hector in a fridge to die. I hadn’t been in my right mind, obviously.

In the morning, Emily was her bouncing and bubbly self, once again.

Needless to say, I wasn’t. I was jumpy and jittery, couldn’t focus on any one thing and constantly on the verge of tears. I was petrified at what the next few months would bring. Transferring the Proteum was such an easy procedure, and with instant results.

How would I ever be able to allow Emily to get sick when I knew how easily I could cure her?

Was I cracking up?

Was this how serial killers were born?

After feeding the chickens, I dropped Hector’s belongings at the incinerator. I planned to burn them all later once we had the clothing he still wore.

The phone rang as I arrived home.

“Hello?”

“Hi Vic, it’s Steph. They’re letting me out. Is there any chance you can come get me?”

“Course I can. You ready now?”

“If that’s okay.”

I found Emily in the kitchen. “I need to talk to you, baby.”

She glanced up from her sticker book.

“Stephanie’s had an accident,” I said.

She gasped and her hand flew to her face, as though I’d just slapped her. “Like Daddy?”

“No. Oh I’m sorry, baby, nothing like Daddy at all. She’s sore and bruised. I just don’t want you to be upset when you see her.”

“Okay, Mummy. Is Hekker bruised?”

“No, my baby. Hector is fine, but he’s had to go home to Spain.”

“Aw, but he’s my friend.”

“I know he is, but it couldn’t be helped.”

I found Frank soaking up the sun in the garden. He seemed miles away. “Penny for them.”

“Oh hi, lass.” He patted the cushion of the garden swing beside him.

“Steph’s coming home. I’m going to get her now. Will you watch Em?”

He nodded.

“Then we’ll go and see to the other matter once Steph’s here. Leave them looking after one another.”

“Okay.” He attempted a smile.

“You seem deflated. Are you having regrets?”

“No, not at all, but I just wish we had a more permanent solution.”

“I know, but we have a few more months, hopefully.”

He nodded.

“Right, I’m off. Won’t be too long.”

Stephanie sat in an armchair at the side of the bed. The bruising looked even worse than last night.

“Are you sure you’re fit to come home?”

She shrugged. “That’s what the doctor said.” She inched out of the chair, in obvious agony. “I’m fine once I get moving, honestly,” she said, noticing the concern on my face.

“I think I’ll get you a wheelchair, because the car’s parked on the other side of the building,” I said. “Wait there. I’ll be back in two ticks.”

Pushing Steph through the hospital brought back memories of last night, with Hector slumped in Frank’s wheelchair. I steadied myself on the handles as I felt the corridor spin.

Back at home, Stephanie lay on the sofa in the snug with a blanket over her. Emily buzzed about, looking after her.

I had no choice but to go in there or risk questions.

Frank patted my arm and nodded as if to say, well done.

“Okay, if I set up the DVD are you sure you’ll be all right while Frank and I see to the farm?” I said.

“We’ll be perfectly fine, won’t we, Em?” Steph said.

Emily nodded as the doorbell rang.

“If it’s Hector, don’t let him in,” Stephanie said in a breathy voice, obviously petrified.

“Hekker’s in Spain,” Emily said.

“He is, baby. Stephanie’s confused that’s all. Wait there.”

Two uniformed police officers stood on the doorstep. I stopped breathing and my blood ran cold.

“Yes, officers?” I was amazed at how normal my voice sounded.

“We’re looking for Stephanie Cross,” the older officer said, his kind blue eyes twinkling.

“She’s only just got home from hospital. Do you really need to do this now?”

“Afraid so, miss.” the other officer said.

“You’d best come in then.” I stepped aside and led them through to the snug. “Please, wait here a second,” I said, as I entered the room.

“Steph, the police are here. I’ll just take Emily through to Frank and I’ll be right back.”

She nodded, wincing as she tried to sit up.

“Come on, Em. The policemen need to talk to Stephy for a few minutes. Emily took my hand and followed me into the hall. “She’s in there, I’ll be back in a tick.” I held the door open for the officers.

I quickly explained what was happening to Frank and rushed back to the snug.

“—and he apparently came back for his belongings last night, left my car here. That’s the last we’ve heard of him.”

“Do you know where he might have gone? Does he have any friends or family in the area?” the older officer asked.

“No, he’s probably gone back to Spain. Although I don’t know how as I have all his money in my bank account. He hadn’t got around to opening an account of his own yet.

My stomach hit the ground. My mind raced as I said, “I think he may have taken some money from my room.”

Stephanie spun her head to look at me and winced again, grasping her ribs. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“Because I didn’t want to upset you any more than you already are.”

“Do you want to report the theft, Mrs…?”

“Lyons. No. If I’d have been here I’d have given him the money if it meant he’d be gone for good.”

“And what about you, Miss Cross. Do you want to press charges?” he asked.

“No point, as he’s gone. If he comes back then I will, but I’ve got a feeling we’ve seen the last of him.”

“Okay, but if he turns up, call us right away.”

“Will do.”

They stood up and I walked them to the front door.

“Nasty piece of work’s done a right number on her, hasn’t he?” the younger officer said.

I nodded. “I can’t believe it. He was such a lovely man.”

“Do you have any idea how many times we hear that, Mrs Lyons? Salt of the earth, wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I can imagine,” I said. “Makes it difficult to know who you can trust though, doesn’t it.”

“Anyone is capable a serious crime if the circumstances are right.”

“Yes, officer. I suppose they are.”

I closed the door after them, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

Chapter 22

“Are you sure about this?”

Frank nodded.

“Shall we do it then?” We’d been sitting in Jonathan’s truck for half an hour already, and my mind was wavering with every second.

“Let’s do it,” he said.

We climbed out of the truck and Frank opened up the main door.

I followed him to cold store.

Frank gasped.

I pushed past him to see what was wrong.

Hector had moved.

He sat on the floor next to the door, and his bloody fingers and the marks on the back of the door showed he’d been trying to get out.

“Oh no, Frank. This changes everything now. He wasn’t dying. He didn’t kill himself.”

“Is he dead now?” Frank’s face had drained of all colour.

I felt for Hector’s pulse. Nothing. “He is now, but he wasn’t, Frank. Don’t you see how wrong this is?” I almost screamed. I felt as though my head might explode as I ran from the shed, retching.

Frank joined me soon after. He clutched his bad arm to his chest and kept clearing his throat, clearly shaken by this turn of events. I had to stop myself from yelling at him again.

“Sorry, Frank. It’s not your fault; it’s mine. I didn’t think he’d wake up—his pulse was so weak—but I should have given him a sedative to be sure. Imagine how awful it must have been for him waking up in here. Worse still, how awful would it have been if he was still alive now?”

“Well he’s not, so let’s do this.” He was back in control. Thank God.

We cut Hector’s clothing off and I put them in a bin bag. It was even more difficult to lift the body today than it had been last night. He seemed much heavier somehow. But where there’s a will there’s a way, as my dad used to say.

Frank didn’t hesitate at all. I helped where needed but I kept my eyes firmly focused on Frank’s face. I had to zone out the awful, wet, slapping sounds as he threw each piece into the blue bin.

When he’d finished, I washed everything down while Frank transferred half of the meat to a different container. We placed a lid on it and heaved it into the back of the truck.

At the pigsty I helped Frank tip the container in. But this time I didn’t look at the contents and tried to block out the awful squeals. It worked. I wasn’t sick this time.

Next stop, the incinerator. We burnt all of Hector’s belongings, and our overalls. No one would know that he’d been back here at all—except for the half bucket full of body parts in the cold store of course, but even that would be gone by tomorrow.

We had discussed shaving Hector’s head and removing his teeth, but once it came to it we changed our minds. We’d have to remove them afterwards instead, like last time.

***

After heating a frozen pizza for Stephanie and Emily, I locked myself in the bathroom and ran a bath, immersing myself for two hours. I spent that time blocking out all thoughts of the last twenty-four hours with Hector and re-played my last contact with him in my mind.

Emily and I had gone into the pub, and he waved frantically at us and pointed at Steph sitting at the bar. I'd glimpsed him later on when he weaved through the crowd, collecting glasses in the beer garden. That was the last time I'd seen him. The rest I erased from my mind—or that's what I told myself, anyway.

As I stepped from the bath, my heart flipped as I spotted watery blood running down the insides of my thighs and pooling on the towel at my feet.

I couldn’t believe it. After everything that had happened recently, now it looked as though the decision of whether or not to keep the baby had been made for me.

I sat on the toilet lid, put my head in my hands and finally allowed myself to cry.

Great racking sobs tore through me and hot salty tears washed down my face.

Initially the tears were for the baby and the injustice of the whole situation, but after a while I couldn’t say which one thing in particular I cried for. In a way, losing the baby would be losing the final connection to Jonathan. Regardless of the fact the baby may not actually be his. Regardless of the fact I had been considering a termination. I knew at that moment I would never have gone through with it.

The gnawing pain that began in the bottom of my back confirmed my worst fears. I remembered that pain. Anybody who’d experienced labour would never forget it. I didn’t know what to do. There was no way I would call an ambulance, not for a miscarriage. Ambulances were for emergencies. I didn’t want to drive myself to the hospital just in case I took a turn for the worse. Steph and Frank were both incapable of driving me.

There was only one thing for it.

I got a facecloth from the drawer, raced to the bedroom and wadded the facecloth between my legs, holding it in place with a pair of panties.

Then I went downstairs and threw the bloody towels into the laundry.

Steph and Emily were still in the snug watching television.

“Righto, little lady, it’s bed time,” I said, trying to keep my voice as light and normal as possible.

“Aw, can’t I just watch this?” Emily said, her eyes fixed to the television set.

“No, sorry, love. I need you to do as you’re told. It’s bedtime, no arguing. Now run upstairs, have a quick wash, brush your teeth and put your nightie on. I’ll see you up there in a minute.”

A sharp pain made my face contort as I spoke. Emily, still staring at the TV didn’t notice, but Steph did.

I put a finger to my mouth and indicated to Emily.

Steph nodded and turned the TV off with the remote. “Come on, Em. Thanks for looking after me today, but I’m going to need you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for tomorrow. That is, if you still want to be my nursemaid.”

Emily laughed. “I don’t got a tail,” she said, hugging Steph as she stood up.

“So you don’t. My mistake.” Steph giggled. “But I need you to do as your mummy asks and get yourself to bed like a big girl. Do you think you can do that before I count to ten?”

“Uh-huh.” Emily raced to the door as Stephanie began counting.

“One … two … three …”

Emily was upstairs before Steph reached four.

“Are you okay, Vic? You look terrible,” Steph said.

I shook my head. “Where’s Frank?” I asked.

“He went for a lie down. What’s happening?”

“I’m losing the baby. I’m having pains and bleeding quite heavily. There’s nothing anybody can do.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Vic,” she cried. “Can I do anything to help?”

“I’ll go back into the bathroom until it’s all over,” I said, the words catching in my throat and fresh tears filled my eyes.

“Aw, Vic. Shall I call the doctor or a midwife or someone?”

“No point. I’ll be okay.”

“Call me if you need me,” Steph said. “And Vic, don’t dispose of anything. They’ll need to examine everything to make sure nothing has been left behind.”

I nodded, creased by an even stronger pain that had me doubled over.

I’d thought things would progress slowly like normal labour did, but now I wasn’t so sure.

Emily was in bed by the time I got upstairs.

“Thanks for being such a good girl for me, Em, I’m sorry but I can’t read to you tonight. I don’t feel too well,” I said, as I bent to kiss the top of her head.

“S’okay, Mummy. Maybe I’ll be a nursemaid for you too.”

“Goodnight, gorgeous girl.”

“Goodnight, Mummy.”

I’d barely made it back to the bathroom when I felt a gushing sensation between my legs. The facecloth and panties were no longer holding anything and as I stepped out of them I realised it was practically all over.

I sat on the bathroom floor, staring my tiny, perfectly formed baby boy. His entire body was no bigger than my hand.

My heart contracted.

The immense pain I felt was much worse than the actual pain of the miscarriage.

My rational mind knew it was a blessing, really.

Jon’s baby would have been born with death sentence hanging over it and Shane’s baby would have been a constant reminder of that terrible night.

Nevertheless, as I held the fragile body of my son, I thought I might actually die with grief.