Persona - A Disturbing Psychological Thriller (22 page)

‘You don’t believe in love, but you’re wrong, Ryan. Love exists. It’s real. You’ve been unfortunate – you were dealt a cruel blow. Neither of your parents loved you and like any child, that’s what you needed. You say you’ve recovered, but you haven’t. You felt a release at Karen’s death, but you haven’t completely released her, because now you’ve convinced yourself that you don’t care about anyone else – you weren’t loved so now you
can’t
love.’

‘I’m not all that interested in this,’ he responded. ‘It sounds like a load of shit.’

She smiled. ‘Can’t you see that that’s a defence? You’ve hardened yourself, so you can’t be hurt again. You’ve trained yourself to do without affection, to bury emotion away. But I’ve seen it, Ryan. I’ve seen it surface.’ She spoke adamantly. ‘I’ve seen it in your eyes, I’ve heard it in your voice and I’ve felt it in your touch.’

‘Have you really?’ he asked sarcastically.

‘Yes I have, and when you finally take off your armour, you’ll see that it’s true. You’ll see that you have feelings for me and understand that I love you.’

‘Sounds like a lot of hassle for you.’

‘It can take a lifetime to find the right partner. Sometimes they’re never found.’

‘Why am I better than the rest? It doesn’t make sense.’

‘It wouldn’t to you at the moment, because you don’t know yourself. As I said, once you let go of all this bitterness, then you’ll see why I’m in love with you.’

He pulled his hand free, stood up and put his clothes on.

‘I’ll see you at the next session,’ he said, then smiled at her and left the house.

28

It had been two days since he’d seen Ryan, and now Dave had come to a decision. Though Ryan was his best friend and they’d been through so much together, he had to tell Fay what he knew. He was in love with her and knew that in keeping vital secrets from her he risked forfeiting the happiness he felt.

Jesus, it concerned her best friend. If Stacey got hurt and Fay blamed him for withholding information, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. And, let’s face it, he was Ryan’s confidant. He should have known there was a risk.

He
did
know there was a risk, and he was going to tell Fay now. She needed to know how strongly he felt about her; that he was trustworthy and sincere.

He knocked on her door, inhaling the sweet scent of the roses he held at chest height. It had felt wonderful carrying them beside him. Walking to Fay’s, he’d held them roadside so passing cars would notice them and know he was in love.

‘Dave,’ Fay acknowledged flatly. ‘Another bunch of flowers.’

‘You deserve them,’ he chirped.

‘Well come in then.’

He noticed weariness in her tone and hoped that Ryan hadn’t already had his way with Stacey. ‘Is everything all right?’ he asked.

‘Yeah. Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Have you come round to fuck my brains out?’

His spirits crumbled and he turned red.

Fay laughed. ‘I’m joking!’

That was the problem, he thought – she shouldn’t need to joke about it. He should be able to satisfy her. He felt ashamed.

‘Cat caught your tongue?’ she asked.

‘No,’ he mumbled.

‘Did you come round here to depress me?’

He tried to cheer up. ‘Sorry, I just…’ He couldn’t finish. He didn’t want to sound weak.

‘Well stop stuttering and come in.’

They sat next to each other in the lounge. Dave could just about tell the carpet was turquoise – a small piece of it was visible between the empty packets and cans. A boxing match played on the telly.

‘Fay, I’ve been talking to Ryan and I think there’s something you should know.’

‘What?’

‘It involves Stacey.’

‘Well spit it out then!’

He took a deep breath. ‘Ryan is using her. He wants to try voyeurism and she’s the girl he’s chosen to do it with. He doesn’t love her, he’s leading her on.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Voyeurism?’

‘Yes.’

‘How long have you known this?’

‘He told me the other night.’

‘So he wants to watch her have sex with other people?’

‘Well that’s the definition, but knowing Ryan I expect it’ll be more interactive, more along the lines of an orgy.’

‘So he’ll be shagging blokes?’

He hadn’t thought of that and neither had Ryan. Well, Ryan certainly hadn’t when he’d spoken to him.
He could kill two birds with one stone…

‘I wouldn’t think so,’ he responded, dispelling the absurd idea. There was no need for her to know about that ‘mine’. He wasn’t going to give away information that didn’t concern her. Yes, it meant it was a secret, but the only secrets he didn’t want to keep were ones that might affect their relationship. As far as he was concerned, even if Ryan fulfilled his desire to sleep with a man, it didn’t need to come to the women’s attention. Dave believed it would be an isolated incident.

‘But he’ll be shagging other women though, won’t he?’ Fay hastily asked. There was no anger in her voice, which Dave found odd.

‘I’d expect that to be the case.’

Fay said nothing and turned away from him. Clearly she was disgusted with Ryan – he hoped she didn’t think less of him because of his friend’s depravity. He kept quiet, aware of her dilemma – she’d have to tell Stacey she was mistaken about Ryan, that he wanted to corrupt her, that her affection was misguided. It was not an easy thing to quell a person’s happiness. He shuddered when he imagined how miserable he’d feel if he was told Fay didn’t care about him.

29

Sitting in Ryan’s room, Ginger buried his face in his hands. ‘How the fuck will this help, lad?’

‘Look, I’m just telling you what happened,’ Ryan explained. ‘I’m not going to lie. I thought you were supposed to be helping me.’

‘I am.’

‘Well then you need to know the truth, don’t you?’

‘Yeah I do, but sometimes the truth hits you right between the fucking eyes, so give me a while to recover... When did this happen?’

‘A week ago. It’s not like I’m in love with her or anything.’

‘Well that’s a relief!’ Ginger cried. ‘Hang that on your arm, you’ll break your fucking spine!’

Ryan shook his head. ‘You haven’t even seen her, Ginger.’

‘Oh listen to Romeo here getting protective. It makes me sick!’

Ryan felt guilty. He’d upset and disappointed Ginger, who had always put him first. But he had to tell Ginger about his moment of weakness with Stacey, because he needed his help. Things were getting too heavy.

‘So what happens now?’ he asked Ginger.

‘It depends on you.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning, how d’you feel about this fat slut?’

‘I don’t feel anything about her,’ Ryan said sternly.

‘So can we refocus on the mines?’ Ginger asked sarcastically.

‘That’s what I’ve been doing.’

‘No, you’ve been slacking.’

‘Look, for fuck’s sake, I felt compassion because I didn’t want to.’

‘Yeah, makes sense.’

‘Will you fucking listen for one second? When you badly want to block something out, it slips back in. It’s what happens when you concentrate intensely. It doesn’t mean anything.’

‘I thought you were a cold motherfucker?’

‘I am.’

‘Cold motherfuckers have no emotion. There’s nothing to block out.’

Ryan looked away. It was true, and hearing Ginger say it hurt him. If he’d been tougher, it wouldn’t have surfaced. But Ginger would help him overcome it. ‘So what do I do?’

‘You think and talk bad every second of every day. Hug and kiss the fat bitch to steer you towards the mine, not for affection. Think of what she is – a bitch. There to be abused. She’s an overweight cunt who’s a means to an end. If you take your mind off that end - the mine - it’ll have disastrous consequences.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like what? You should be telling me. You fall in love with the tub of shit, you sacrifice all the effort you’ve made and the mines will taunt you forever. You can’t get rid of the fuckers unless you focus on them. You must treat ’em with respect. They’re strong enough to fuck you up bad.’

‘Ginger, there’s no chance I’ll fall in love.’

‘Really? You’ve told her about your past.’

‘I had to – I’d nearly fucking killed her.’

‘Ha, look!’ Ginger pointed at him. ‘Empathy, regret, compassion, guilt! Towards her! Listen to yer, you’re spilling your fucking heart out and it’s gonna make me puke!’

Feeling embarrassed, Ryan gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. ‘I’ll find my place and I’ll use her to get me there.’

‘Then do it and don’t fucking mess up again. Find your ground. Use this bond you’ve created with her to find the mine and take her to it. Drag the bitch if she won’t move.’ Ginger laughed. ‘There was a time when I thought you’d kill her, and look at it now!’

‘That’s not my fault. You know Dave fucked that up.’

‘Well move on then. You lost that opportunity so you should be racing for the next one.’

‘I will. I promise.’

‘Don’t make promises to me, lad. I listen to action. Come back and tell me what I wanna hear.’

30

It was midday on Tuesday 20 November, one month since he’d been hung from the tree. Andre had told them both to stay at home – whenever possible – until he contacted them, and when he did that it would mean Zen was dead.

John-Paul got into his Rover 400 and drove towards work. Jen was safe inside the house - Zen’s return had prompted Nathan to fit the most sophisticated alarms and locks on the market.

There was a conflict inside him. He understood Andre’s insistence that everyone stay in as much as they could - because Zen used her loved ones to punish her - but he also knew that his fear of Zen was conquered. Despite Jen’s insistence that Zen had intended that she save him, John-Paul believed Zen had wanted him dead and failed, and this filled him with strength. Zen had taken his courage and then given it back. As he drove by Knoll Wood, he felt powerful, almost invincible.

Passing the trees lining the road fed his morale, as if each of them was a cheering fan. Checking the time on the stereo, he decided to stop. He had time, ten minutes at least. He rolled his car into the parking area and even the crunch of the tyres on the gravel made him smile.

After locking his vehicle he walked into the thick undergrowth, drawing in the scent of earth and bark.

He had a good sense of direction and knew he was on the right track. He listened to the sounds of Knoll Wood – birds singing and squirrels climbing trees. The leaves had all fallen now, garnishing the ground like a wet and rusty carpet. He stroked the trunks and thought of Jen squeezing between them in the dark, following the rope attached to the beer keg so she could save his life. That rope was no longer there.

The noose was.

There it lay on the ground, shaped like a ‘T’ beneath the tree. At first, John-Paul shivered as he pictured himself suspended from the branch, but a few seconds later he stared at it in awe, savouring the awareness it inspired. He had been dying, his air supply slipping from him. He felt the marks on his neck. He had refused to die, refused to give in and let Zen win. Anyone else could have succumbed to despair and allowed themselves to die. Him? Never. His fighting spirit had triumphed. He walked to the noose, picked it up and felt the strands, running his fingers gently over them as if they were sacred.

His mobile phone started to ring. John-Paul dropped the noose. He was sure he’d left his phone in the Rover, but the ring was too loud to be coming from there – the vehicle was parked fifty metres away. He checked his pockets and confirmed he didn’t have it. It was definitely his ring tone, though, and it was very close. Thinking it must be another phone that had been dropped by someone, he turned around to look for it. Ten metres in front of him a hand appeared from behind a tree and waved the phone at him.

‘It’s Jenny. She’s probably concerned that you’re socialising with Zen again!’

John-Paul gasped, spun around, and lost his footing in his desperation to get away. With an axe, Zen cut through rope tied to the tree and it flew free, furiously unwrapping itself from other trunks and branches. John-Paul sprang from the ground like a sprinter pushing off blocks, and ran a few metres before a piece of rope, already looped around him, jumped up from beneath leaves, shrank towards him and smacked into his shins, yanking him onto the earth and dragging him on his side before lifting him upside-down from the ground.

He struggled to breathe, the trap’s impact having winded him. Nauseated, he looked around him and could see he was over six feet from the ground, suspended from a huge branch by a thick rope attached to barrels that had gone crashing to the ground. Helplessly, he rocked back and forth. He heard the laughter again, retched, and watched hot spurts of his vomit splat on the ground.