Here We Lie (31 page)

‘Come on.’ Dan puts his arm around my shoulders and we hurry across the road and through the park gates. No one else is about; the only person I can see is Lish himself, up ahead. He
is walking briskly along the path. Dan and I are too exposed here; if Lish turned he would see us. Dan has clearly had the same thought. He points to the trees.

‘Let’s go over there.’

We hurry from tree to tree, keeping Lish in our sights as he strides deeper into the park. The place is deserted, the rain still light and fine, the sky dark overhead. My heart pounds as we
creep through the trees.

‘This is like
The Inn of the Sixth Happiness
,’ I whisper, ‘you know, where Ingrid Bergman has to make her way to safety through the woods with a bunch of kids.
It’s one of my favourite movies.’

‘I know,’ Dan whispers back. ‘You watched it with your mum and her mum and Rose when you were little. It’s one of your strongest memories of your mother and your
gran.’

I glance at him, amazed he has remembered so accurately something I told him ten years ago. ‘I can’t—’

‘Sssh.’ Dan holds up his hand, then points through the trees. Lish has stopped walking. We are right in the heart of the park now, the lake just a few metres away. Lish is standing
beside a bench that overlooks the water. After glancing around for a long, heart-stopping moment, he sits down, his bag in his lap.

‘He’s waiting for someone,’ Dan whispers. ‘Waiting to hand over whatever’s in the bag.’

I look around. The park is silent, apart from the wind whistling through the trees and the soft patter of the rain on the leaves. It’s unnerving. Soon it will be dark. I’m so cold
now that my whole body is shivering.

I reach for Dan’s hand, as much for warmth as for comfort.

But just as I touch Dan’s fingertips, I am jerked back, a hand over my mouth. I try to turn, but only manage enough movement to see that Dan is being propelled to the ground by a huge guy
wearing a thick, padded jacket and red cap. I can’t see his face. Dan falls with a thud onto the damp earth. I give a muffled yell, then kick out. My hands are yanked painfully behind my
back.

‘Fucking quiet, please,’ a low, male voice hisses in my ear. There’s a slight accent. My insides contract with fear. My arms are pulled tighter. A scarf is wrapped over my
mouth. It smells sour.

‘Fucking walk.’ The voice is all menace.

I stumble forward. Dan is on his feet ahead of me, also gagged with his wrists tied. He is still struggling, trying to turn around, to get to me. I glance through the trees. Lish has vanished
from the bench.

Are these men with him? Does he know we are here? Where are we being taken? What are they going to do with us? My heart drums loudly in my chest.

Dan and I are shoved through the woodland. The sky darkens overhead. The rain has stopped but the wind is raw in my eyes. I am trembling all over.

Out of the trees, across a patch of grass where two paths intersect. I look around. Surely someone is here, somebody will see us. But the park is utterly deserted. The two men shove us forward.
They say nothing. We are pushed into another patch of woodland. Through more trees. After a minute or so we come to a gents toilets. We are forced inside. It’s ice-cold and smells of stale
pee and disinfectant. Across the room, Dan is shoved against the wall, his face pressed against the white tiles. My captor grips my wrist. He is much shorter and slighter than the other man. Like
the bigger guy, his face is mostly covered with a cap. I can just make out his fleshy top lip and the stubble on his pale chin. I’m certain he’s the guy who mugged me at the tube
station. He’s the same height, the same build as the figure the ticket officer described.

‘You were there, on the platform,’ I gasp. ‘You—’

‘Quiet.’ The man whips a knife from his belt and presses it to my throat. The metal is cold against my skin.

I flinch. Across the room, Dan’s captor is yanking on his arms, pulling them up behind his back.

‘This. Last. Warning.’ My guy speaks in a low, guttural voice. ‘Stay. Away. Or end up like little girl. Understand?’

He means stay away from Lish, from investigating the drug dealing. Or end up like Dee Dee.
Fuck. Fuck.
My breath is coming in quick, shuddering rasps. Across the room, Dan is still being
forced against the wall.

‘Understand?’ the man with me persists. He is only an inch or two taller than I am, but his fingers are like steel on my arm. ‘Understand? Stay. Away.’

The menace in his voice is almost as terrifying as the knife at my throat.

‘Yes,’ I gasp. ‘I understand.’ For a split second I’m certain I’m about to die, that the stained, white-tiled wall in front of me is the last thing on earth
that I will ever see. And then I’m spun around. The man lets go of my wrists, then slices through the rope that binds them. He pulls the scarf away from my mouth. I turn. Where is Dan?

He’s being forced out of the door, held between the two men. The man who threatened me turns. ‘Wait here. You don’t try leave. We’ll be back.’

‘Emily!’ Dan yells, the sound muted by his gag.

‘Dan!’ I run to the door. It slams shut in my face. Outside I can hear Dan’s muffled shouts. I pull at the handle. But the door is locked. I hammer against the wood.

‘Dan!’ But my shout echoes off the bare walls into silence.

I stand at the door, the light fading around me as the full horror of the situation settles in my head.

Dan is gone and I am alone.

Trapped.

Oh, wow, Bex is SO amazing. She really understands my life. I went on UFrenz again today wondering if she’d be there again like she was yesterday and she WAS. And she
asked how I felt about what I saw at the party now and I said much better thanks to her and she must have been right about me misunderstanding it and she asked if I’d talked to anyone else
about it and I said no because I’d talked to HER. And she did an emoticon of ‘embarrassed face’ all bright red, JUST like I would have done if it had been me and I said I was glad
I’d kept quiet because my whole family would be SO upset if I’d said anything but I was glad I’d told her and she said she was glad I had told her too and that it meant we were
truly best friends and I said that I couldn’t ask for a better friend and Bex said she felt the same.

My legs give way and I sink to the cold, tiled floor. What are those men going to do with Dan? Oh God, why on earth did we come here? I can still hear my captor’s harsh
whisper:

‘Wait here. You don’t try leave. We’ll be back.’

I run to the door. It’s firmly locked and at least an inch thick. Bile fills my throat. Is Dan still out there? Have they killed him already? Or are they taking him somewhere else first? I
press my ear to the door and listen hard, but the only sound I can hear is the swish of the wind in the trees. I feel for my phone but my jacket pocket is empty. Of course. Dan has my mobile. I
gave it to him earlier.

‘Help! Help!’ My shout reverberates off the tiles. It’s hopeless. Desperate. I already know the park is virtually empty and the light is fading fast. Nobody will come. I have
to save myself. There is only one small window, above and to the left of the row of sinks. It’s too high for me to see through it but if I could break the glass, I should be able to crawl
through.

Even at full stretch, I can only just reach the bottom of the sill. There’s no way I can pull myself up by my fingertips. I test the nearest sink. It seems solid enough. I clamber on top
of it. There’s a tiny ledge just above the row of sinks. I lean against it, trying to prevent all my weight being taken by the sink itself. I push at the window. The catch is stuck, the wood
swollen. It’s impossible to open; my only option is to break the glass.

‘Shit, shit,’ I mutter to myself. There’s nothing in the room I can use. I jump down. Take off my boot. Up on the sink again I ram the boot against the glass. I almost fall off
the sink with the effort but at least the glass cracks. Steadying myself against the wall, legs braced, I pound the glass again. This time it smashes. Loudly. I stop and hold my breath. If the men
are just outside they will hear. But they have gone, Dan with them. What are they doing to him? Have they killed him?

I can’t let myself think it.

Using the boot to cover my hand, I push out all the remaining shards of glass. An icy wind whistles straight in, nipping at my face. It is twilight outside, the nearby trees lost in a shadowy
gloom.

‘Come on.’ I urge myself closer to the window. My foot slips against the sink. I jump down again. Put my boot back on. Then I climb up a third time. The sink creaks. With a groan it
slips an inch down the wall. I lurch upwards, clinging to the window. I’m on one foot now, balancing awkwardly, trying to get my knee over the sill. But the window is too small. The sink
creaks again. Last chance. Any second it will collapse. I strain upwards, balancing on the tip of one toe. I reach for the top of the window then turn so my fingers grip its outside edge. In a
single movement, I push off from the sink and haul myself up with my arms. A second later the sink collapses with a crash and I am sitting on the window ledge, my arms and upper body outside, my
legs from the knees down still inside. I wriggle back, bottom first. The ledge cuts into my fingers but I daren’t loosen my grip. I clamber out so my feet are on the sill, then in one
movement I let go and jump down. I land on the earth, knees bent to absorb the impact. My legs jar, my hands are sore and my arms are shaking, but I’m outside, I’m free.

I stand, trying to get my bearings. Which way is the fastest route out of the park? I have no idea, so I retrace my steps towards Robin Hood Gate. Night falls around me as I run, my breath
coming in jagged gasps. The wind hisses through the bare branches of the trees. I have to get to a phone and call the police. Panic rises inside me. Suppose I’m not in time? Suppose Dan is
already dead? He could be miles away by now.

Wait. I can work out where he is. The thought strikes me with such force I actually stop running for a second. Dan has my phone. Which means I can find him using the same app that Jed used to
track me. Unless, that is, his captors find the phone and power it down. I start running again, head down against the wind, pounding across the grass. I reach the gates and hurl myself up and over
them. There’s nobody on the street, though a man walking his dog in the distance turns as I thud down onto the pavement. Ignoring him I hurry to Dan’s car. To my relief it’s still
there.

I hesitate for a second, but I don’t have a choice. There’s no time to lose.

I wrap my hand in my jacket and punch the glass on the passenger side. The car alarm blares into the air. I reach in and open the glove compartment. Dan’s iPad is wedged inside along with
my handbag. I take them both out and set off again. Down the street. Around the corner. I don’t stop until I reach the lights of the Kingston University campus. I take shelter under a tree
and, with trembling fingers, turn the iPad on. It takes me a few minutes to piggyback someone’s wi-fi, then another thirty anxious seconds to pull up the app and enter my details.

A map flashes up. Straightaway I can see my phone is on the move. Does that mean Dan is still alive? Or that they’ve killed him but haven’t yet disposed of his body and everything in
his pockets? My device is moving fast, they must be travelling by car. I peer more closely. The signal shows that Dan is now in Twickenham. I zoom in and stare at the screen. What road is that?
No.
I can’t believe it. The signal stops. I switch to satellite view so I can see the individual buildings. My breath catches in my throat. There’s no mistaking that flat modern
roof set among all those old houses, with the river at the bottom of the garden.

My phone – and presumably Dan with it – are squarely positioned in the building. I blink, still unable to take it in.

This is my brother’s house.

I realize I am holding my breath and take a deep lungful of cold air. I am standing opposite Martin and Cameron’s modern townhouse. And here, on the screen in front of
me, the icon for my phone shows that it is definitely still inside the building. It makes no sense. What have Martin and Cameron got to do with Lish’s drug dealing? Or the men who took Dan?
Apart from anything else, they were heading off on holiday on Boxing Day so I’m certain that neither of them can possibly be at home.

No lights are on in the house – at least not at the front. But someone must be inside. If not my brother and his boyfriend, then perhaps Lish’s drug-dealing contacts. Perhaps Gary. I
put down Dan’s iPad and zip up my jacket. The curtains are drawn across the upstairs bedroom. Is Dan in there? No one is looking out. I creep across the road to the edge of the garage and
reach for the top of the side gate. In seconds I’m over it and leaping down onto the paving beyond. After climbing the big gates in the park it’s easy to land with the lightest of
thuds. I still hold my breath, waiting to see if I’ve been heard. No one comes. I race along the passageway, creeping under the window of the kitchen wall as I pass. I stop to take my
bearings. The only room downstairs at the back is the big kitchen/diner that leads out onto the garden. The lights
are
on in this room, casting shadows across the back lawn, right down to
the water beyond. As I creep closer I catch sight of the river itself. Martin and Cameron’s boat is moored at the end of the garden. It looms darkly out of the water. Lights are on in the
central cabin.

I peer around the wall and look into the kitchen/diner. The room is empty. I stare in at the shadowy interior, at the familiar table and chairs, the designer sofa and the artwork on the walls. I
have been here many times, hanging out with my brother and his boyfriend, laughing and joking with them. Is it possible that they’ve let Lish use their house? If it is, they must surely be
ignorant of what he is doing here. And yet Martin knows most of what I know. Surely he would be suspicious? I turn again to the boat. The light from the cabin flickers, as if someone has walked
past it.