Holding On To You (9 page)

'I can see.'

Maddy scowls at him. River goes to the bathroom and throws the end of his cigarette into the dirty water at the bottom of the toilet bowl. There is a short fizzing sound as the water swallows it down.

'Here's the deal', River says coming back into the room. 'You do what I say, and we have some fun on the way to the border, or you don't do as I say, and you spend the time gagged and handcuffed in the back of the car.'

'Some fun on the way to the border? What do you think this is, a road trip? You've just robbed a bank, stolen my money and taken me hostage. The police are probably on their way to us now.'

'Gagged and handcuffed it is then.' River says, and moves towards Maddy.

'Wait, wait', Maddy says, the memory of the ride in the trunk of the car, all too recent.

'How do I know you won't just kill me anyway?'

'I guess you'll just have to trust me', River says. 'You ever trusted anyone in your life before Maddy?'

'Have you?' Maddy says, turning the question back on him.

'I trusted a lot of people, and most of them just let me down one way or another. I'm hoping you're not going to do that. Anyway', he says. 'I'll kill you if you try to run. If you behave, and I get across the border, I'll even pay for the bus to send you back home.'

'What do you want me to do?' Maddy says. 'Pretend to be your fiancée?'

'Don't worry, I wouldn't ask you to do anything I didn't reckon you'd be capable of doing. I reckon you find it difficult enough hiding your true feelings, so the hatred I'm sensing from you, would make that kind of connection between us a little difficult to pull off. Nah, I just want you to act like nothing is wrong. It's much easier for me if I don't have to treat you like a hostage, sneaking around trying to hide you everywhere we go. After that, it's up to you whether you enjoy it or not.'

'Why not just keep me tied up in the trunk of the car, or get rid of me altogether?' Maddy says.

'I don't like eating alone.'

'That's it?' Maddy says. 'You're keeping me hostage because you don't like eating alone?'

'Do you like eating alone Maddy?' River says, his intonation serious.

'I hope you burn in hell', Maddy says.

'That's not a very nice thing to say', River says. 'I'm inviting you out to dinner and you're telling me to go fuck myself.'

'Inviting me out to dinner?' Maddy says, unable to believe what he's saying. 'Your telling me to join you, and if I don't, you'll kill me.'

'No, I said if you don't, I'll handcuff you and keep you in the back of the car, without any food. If you agree, and then try and run away, that's when I'll kill you. It's an important distinction.'

'Is this how you date?' Maddy says. 'With a gun in your hand?'

'Hopefully I won't need it', River says. 'Now, I'm going to ask you again. The trunk of the car, or an evening of fun?'

Maddy doesn't answer.

'It's the perfect way for us to get to know each other.' River says.

'I don't want us get to know each other. What have I possibly got to gain from us knowing each other?'

'I'm the only friend you've got at the moment', River says, 'and I'm taking the opportunity to treat you with respect. I'm sorry for taking you hostage, but to be honest, you looked like you needed it. What's more, I think you ought to drop the whole woe is me act, because it's pretty fucking unappealing. I don't know you Madeleine Parker, but I can tell from what I've seen so far that you've got to loosen up and start enjoying life a little bit more. I would wager that this is probably the most exciting thing that's happened to you since you lost your virginity, and when you're old and bitter and complaining about what injustices the world has thrown at you over the years, you'll look back on this time with the most regret of all, as the time that you could have enjoyed yourself, but you didn't because you were too far up your own ass.'

'That's it is it? That's your cod psychology analysis of me? And you think I should take the advice of a hostage taker, a bank robber and a murderer?'

'I've never killed anyone in my life, but that doesn't mean I won't start now if I have to. I may be a bank robber, but at least I don't look like an undertaker.'

Maddy is shocked and hurt. She's almost incapable of saying anything, and then finally manages to say,

'This is a Valentino dress', her voice quivering and tears beginning to form in her eyes again.

'It doesn't matter whose dress it is. You've got beautiful eyes and a beautiful figure and you hide it all away underneath a thousand dollar bin liner.'

It's the first time in a long time, that anyone has complimented her.

'What size are you?' Terry asks.

'What?' Maddy says, not really understanding the question.

'Clothes', River says. 'What size do you take?'

'You're going to buy me a new outfit as well as take me to dinner? What are we doing after, the movies?'

Maddy wipes tears from her eyes. She can't believe how ridiculous the situation is she's found herself in.

'Hell Maddy, you never know. I reckon you'd just about like that too.'

She doesn't want to admit it to herself, but she really would. It's been a long time since she's been out for dinner with someone, but she'd love it even more, if the person that was offering it to her, wasn't only doing so because he needed a companion, or because she looked like she needed the fun.

'Four, Six, Eight?' River says, 'what is it?'

'It depends on the clothes.'

'Well what is it in normal clothes?'

'It changes. I could be a size four or a size eight depending on the brand. It's not that simple.'

'Make it simple', River says.

'Six', Maddy says. 'But they might not fit. You want to make absolutely sure, get one of each size, or better still, take me with you.'

River gets up off the bed. 

'Your image is going to be all over the news, and anyway, dressed like that you stick out like a sore thumb. I'm going to get you a new look, but while I do so, I'm going to have to leave you here I'm afraid.'

River pulls the handcuffs out of his back pocket.

'Wait', Maddy says. 'I thought you said you wouldn't handcuff me if I did what you said?'

'I won't, but I need to know I can trust you', River says. 'At the moment, if I leave, and I leave you here, I know you'll take the first opportunity to get as far away from here as possible, and I can't let that happen I'm afraid. When I'm with you, I won't need to handcuff you, but when I'm not, I've got to do it for my own safety. At least until I know I can trust you not to run away.'

'I won't run away', Maddy says.

'Yes you will', River says. 'Everyone would.'

'Please.' Maddy says desperately, as River slips the handcuff over one slender wrist.

'I won't be long Maddy, I promise', he says. 'When I come back, I'll have a new outfit for you, and we can go for dinner and get to know each other better. Now, sit down, please.'

Maddy sits down, and River attaches the handcuffs to the radiator.

'I won't forget this, you know.' Maddy says.

'Oh, I know', River says. 'I'm hoping you never do.'

River takes the pillow out of its case, and folds the case in half several times. When Maddy sees what he's doing, she begins to protest.

'Please, that's not necessary.'

'I hope it won't be after today. You prove to me later on that I can trust you, then this is the last time I'll have to do this.'

As River crouches down to delicately tie the gag around her mouth, she sees into his eyes for the very first time. They are as blue as ice cold water, and she can see lines in his irises that look like shooting stars. For a moment, she feels like kissing him. Disgusted with herself, and confused by the sensation, she looks away instead, making the movement clear.

River puts his hand on her chin and moves her face back to where it started, but still she refuses to look at him.

'You're a pretty girl Madeleine', he says to her. 'I hope enough people have told you that before.'

With the gag securely fastened, and Maddy bolted to the radiator, River clicks on the TV, making sure the volume is just loud enough to muffle out any potential noises that Maddy can make around the gag, but not too loud that it attracts attention. He skips through the channels until he finds the news, broadcasting a continuation of the events that happened that morning.

'Well, would you look at that', he says. 'You're finally famous Maddy. You've made it onto TV.'

Maddy doesn't want to indulge him by watching, but she can't help herself. In the corner of the screen, they are showing on repeat, the grainy mobile phone footage the obese African-American woman filmed, of River and Maddy approaching her car. Maddy can't quite believe that the woman in the picture is her, not least that the balaclava clad man capturing her, is the man still in the same room. She is horrified at how awful she looks.

River places the remote control out of reach, unlocks the door, and blows Maddy a kiss.

'Enjoy the show, and don't go running away on me now', he says. 'I think I'll miss you if you do.'

River closes the door, takes a good look around to see if anyone is watching, and then peers through the window to see how much of Maddy he can see, which he is relieved to find out is nothing. The thick brown curtains on the inside of the room, perhaps once a lighter colour, are good for keeping out both light, and prying eyes.

One of the cars has also disappeared, which makes River feel that little bit happier still about leaving her. The situation isn't ideal, but he hasn't got much choice. He needs to change her outfit, and he can't do that if she's with him. It's a risk keeping her with him anyway, and he hopes he won't regret it. She's a bargaining tool, that's for sure, but he hopes that she doesn't turn into a burden. He hopes that taking her out, instead of leaving her tied up inside won't come back to bite him. There is something about her that intrigues him, and something that makes him want to get to know her. Something aside from those almond flecks in her emerald green eyes. River has a good feeling in his gut, and when he feels something with his body, rather than thinking something with his brain, he knows he's just got to follow it.

Maddy on the other hand tries to shy away from the feelings she has in her gut as often as possible. It's how she likes to keep herself disciplined, and unfortunately it's largely responsible for turning her into the cautious, inflexible, unhappy person she is, and can't ever remember being otherwise.

Inside the room, Maddy watches the news footage with tears streaming down her eyes, moistening the folded pillow case wrapped around her mouth. Some of her colleagues are being interviewed and they are definitely not holding back on how they feel, perhaps with every belief that she won't be returned safely.

Chapter 8

Officer Garland stands by the office printer, a machine that has been repaired so many times, almost none of the original pieces remain inside. It is, like most of the other equipment in the department, and some of the officers too, tired and worn. Budget cuts and diversion of funds in general, have meant that computer systems and general equipment upgrades promised before the new millennium, are still waiting to be delivered. It's been a crusade for Frank and several of his closest colleagues over the years, but officer Garland doesn't let it bother him. He's an old fashioned man that drinks coffee black, and makes do with what he has.

When the printer finally decides to spit out the information, Garland gives it the once over, taps the machine proudly, and starts along the corridor to Frank's office.

River finds himself wedged in between rows of women's clothes, and women themselves trying to find a bargain. He's chosen a store that's the complete opposite of Maddy's style, and he'd dearly love to get this over with as soon as possible, but it's the first time he's ever done this, and besides which, he's left the revolver underneath the front seat of the car. Luckily, one of the assistants sees him looking out of place, and comes over to help.

'Can I help you sir?' she says, a little suspicious of someone outside of her normal client bracket.

'I'm looking for some clothes for my girlfriend', he lies, 'It's kind of a surprise.'

'Well aint she the lucky one', the woman next to him says, and smiles up at River. 'I wish my boyfriend was as generous as you.'

'As cute too', says the woman on the other side, perhaps her sister, considering the similarities. They both share a giggle and go back to hunting through the rows.

'What kind of thing are you looking for?' the assistant says, moving quickly to the rails.

'I don't know', River says. 'Something fashionable. Some jeans, T-shirts, no dresses, she's got enough of those already. Something with a little colour, you know, she loves colour.'

'Something with colour', the assistant repeats, already searching rapidly through the rails of clothes and lifting out possibilities. The speed at which she works makes River dizzy. 'What size is she?'

'Well that's just it', River says. 'She reckons it changes depending on which brand she buys. I had a look this morning and found a dress in a size six, but it might be best if I get a range of sizes, just in case.'

'You can always come back if they don't fit', the assistant says, her arms now full of potential items.

'I'm not going to be about much longer than today I'm afraid. We're making a road trip all the way to Mexico to meet up with her family for her Granddaddy's ninetieth birthday. Can you believe that, ninety years old?' River lies.

One of the sister's shakes her head.

'Our granddaddy made it to ninety-six', says the other. 'He got kicked out of his nursing home at ninety four, for trying to make it with one of the nurses.'

'How about that?' River says.

The assistant has finished.

'Ok', she says, 'I got a selection. You want to go through and choose what you like?'

'You got them in all different sizes? River says.

'They go from four up to eight', she says. 'Jeans, t-shirts, tops, shirts, the lot. The only thing I haven't picked is dresses.'

'Well then', River says. 'I figure I'll take it all, just to be on the safe side.'

'All of it?' the assistant asks, as if she hasn't heard correctly.

'I reckon so. Anything she doesn't like she can always donate to someone else who needs it.'

'Well aint that charitable', one of the sisters says, both of whom have lost interest in what they were originally doing and are now standing either side of River. 'Good looking, generous, rich, you sure this girl deserves you, honey?'

'I reckon we just about deserve each other', he says.

'Well aint that cute. I reckon he's in love', one sister says to the other.

'I bet she's pretty', the other sister says. 'You got a photo of her.'

'I aint, but I'll tell you a secret', River says, 'she's been on the TV a lot recently.'

'No shit!' the older sister says. 'What is she an actress or something?'

'Something like that', River says.

'Well come on, spill the beans!' the older sister says excitedly. 'We won't tell no-one, we promise.'

'I can't do that I'm afraid girls, no matter how pretty you both are. I've got to respect the wishes of the lady.'

'A gentleman too', the two women agree.

The assistant has finished bagging up the clothes. River takes a roll of one hundred dollar bills out of his pocket and hands over three bills, while the sister's look on in astonishment. One of them strokes his arm, just because she is desperate to touch him. When he catches her, she pulls it quickly away, as if his arm were on fire.

'You have all that money and don't carry it around in a wallet?' she says.

'I never keep hold of it for long enough to justify it', River says.

He thanks the assistant, says goodbye to the girls, who all look at his bum when he walks away, and heads out of the store and back to his car, with armfuls of women's clothes.

He throws the bags into the trunk, shuts it again and heads back to the high street. There is one more thing he's looking for and it doesn't take him all that long to find it. High streets in this part of America seem to be full of shops that cater for this kind of thing.

'Howdy', the assistant says as he enters the store, tipping his hat to greet him.

'Hey', River says, and walks up to the counter. On a ledge above the old man, a TV replays footage of that mornings bank raid, while an in studio team attempt to guess the direction in which the fourth robber has taken his hostage. It's essentially repeated information mixed with a huge dose of conjecture designed to captivate rather than inform.

'They found that poor girl yet?' River says when he sees it, never breaking stride. 'We heard it this morning in the car on the way up.'

'No', the aged assistant says, 'but I reckon people are more interested in finding the robber. Half of the shit they've been saying is about his arms.'

'His arms', River says surprised, suddenly becoming conscious of his own.

'His arms. I know, aint that ridiculous. They're going on about how he's got the best arms out there of anyone they've ever seen, as though that's something newsworthy. I don't know how they can figure that out anyway when all they've got is this grainy mobile phone footage, and an obese African-American woman's testimony. 'I wasn't scared' she says. 'I just wanted to be wrapped in those arms.' His arms. I mean can you believe it? Four people die, thankfully only one of them a civilian, an off-duty police officer no less, killed with his own gun, and they go on about this guy's arms, as though he's some kind of TV soap love interest. That woman he kidnapped, oh boy, I don't know how much you heard, but apparently she's got a family that have practically disowned her, none of whom want to say anything to camera, she's got no friends that have come forward neither, and everyone where she works is having a party because they can't stand the sight of her. Suffice to say, she isn't well liked at all, despite apparently being worth a fortune. Not that those two things should be in anyway linked. However, that stationery company she practically owns is worth a hell of a lot of money, and then some, and they reckon that this robber knew all of that in the first place, and the police are just waiting for the ransom demand.'

He clicks off the TV. 'Anyway, here I am going on. How can I help you?'

River smiles. 'That was quite a rant', he says.

'News just isn't what it used to be', the old man says. 'Or maybe it's just that the people that report it have changed. I can't work it out.'

'Maybe it's both', River says.

'His arms', the old man mutters again, unable to let it go. 'Go on, what can I do for you.'