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Authors: Warren Slingsby

To Catch A Storm (9 page)

BOOK: To Catch A Storm
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So far she’d been pretty lucky. They’d not managed to get what they wanted off her, but if they had that key card, they’d be gone and who knows they may just discard her. She assumed that card had slipped down through a hidden hole in the lining of her bag. She’d lost credit cards in there before. They wouldn’t find the gap if they didn’t know about it. She’d forgotten about it several times and eventually found all sorts down in there. Lipsticks, nail files, cash.

Making sure no one was around, she could just get the belt off as a start. The problem was the tape was quite noisy whenever she moved. She didn’t want to disturb the men. The belt was a simple grey suede belt with a steel buckle. It would punch through the tape if pushed hard enough.

At the other side of the cars, the TV was turned up. Sounded like they were all in front of the TV once again. A happy little family of thugs and thieves. Watching a boxing match she thought, from the sounds of the cheering crowd, a dinging bell and some overly excited commentators.

She freed the belt and unbuckled it and slowly fed it through the belt loops. She got it off and tucked it into her side. She wanted to make sure she could hide it if necessary. It needed folding in half but then it would slip neatly next to her leg. If they really looked, they’d see it but more than likely they wouldn’t she thought. She pulled it back out and pushed the loop of the buckle back leaving the point which she grasped between her thumb and forefinger. She reached across with her free forearm and was able to reach all the way to the top of the strapping which ran the length of her upper arms. The point gradually punched through the tape into the space between her arm and body. It needed a firm giggling push to break through. She then pulled it back through and pierced again about thumb width lower. She repeated this again and again until she’d perforated a line of ten holes up the full width of the webbing. She tried to push her arms away from her body to pull the webbing apart but it wouldn’t budge. Yet.

She continued punching holes. Another set in between the first set of holes until she reached the top of the tape holding her upper arms. She couldn’t do the very top part as the tape was over her shoulder and to punch through the tape would mean plunging the point into her skin. Once again, she tried to push her arms outwards, the tape seemed to give a little more than it had before, she could see the perforations stretching but it still would not tear. She was determined though. It was amazing the determination a threat to your life could give you. Taking a deep but quiet breath and she started punching more holes again one in between each of the existing holes. Ten minutes later, she’d punched another set of holes through the tape. This time, she pushed her arms outwards but it still held fast. But she could just about get her hands to meet in the middle so that she could push outward against them. The tape started to tear but it made a loud squeak. She stopped moving and heard movement. She shut her eyes and lolled her head to the side. She could just about see one of the men stand up and look over the top of the cars, he soon dismissed the noise and sat back down.

She needed to plan her escape route before she released herself from the tape. There was a door to her left, but it was too near to where the men were gathered around the TV. If she got to it before them and out, they would soon catch her, she was a good runner, but one of them would no doubt be faster. There could be a back door but she couldn’t see it. There was a door to her right which led to the back, it could possibly have a back door or a window but she couldn’t see from where she was. She seemed to remember hearing a toilet flush back there. That would probably mean there would be a window but probably a small one. There was no other exit she could see. She would have to take her chance. Or she could just tell him where Joseph was and what happened to him and return the money. She could but somehow she thought that would not be the last of it.
Oh thanks so much for giving us our money back Janet dear. On your way and have a nice life!

No, she had got to this point, she now needed to see this through. Something in her had changed in the last few days. She would have been a crying, screaming, gibbering wreck at this point if this was her previous life. To be fair, she could have a good old cry now, but she would not allow herself to do that. She was stronger and would remain strong. If caught, she would then ‘fess up as to Joseph’s whereabouts and what happened to him. She still had the money as a bargaining tool. She could take them to it and then scream blue murder and take her chances with the police. What would they do about it? Probably she had broken some laws along the way and would spend a little time in prison, but a little time in prison was better than being fish food.

She placed her hands back together and with as much control as possible, pushed hard. Gradually straightening her wrists out as the perforation down her left side opened up one hole at a time. The temptation to rush was overwhelming as they may decide at any moment to come over and interrogate her again, but she knew if she went too fast it would make noise. They still seemed to be engrossed in their boxing match. There was a lot of boxing chat and encouragement of their preferred fighter.

She tore all the way through the perforation. Now she needed to peel back either side. This was taking too long. She shut her eyes tight again to force her brain to speed up.
Take the blouse off.
Of course, it was obvious, the tape was stuck fast to her top, but now she was no longer secured to the chair and had freedom to move, she could slip down and out of the top. She’d then be just in her bra, but that was the price to pay for her escape. Slowly and silently, she slid downwards and out of the floral cotton shirt. She was free. Well, of her tape bond at least. She had to work fast. She went low and toward the door at the right of the room. A quick look revealed it was a disgusting toilet with a tiny frosted glass window. She’d never get out of it. Fuck.

She went back to the car and as she suspected the keys were in. She sat down on the floor and leaned back against the car. She thought through her plan. She would need to be fast and time it exactly right. She crept round the car as low as possible to the car nearest the men. As quiet as a mouse, she reached through the half lowered window and grabbed the key from the ignition. Single thankfully, no bunch of keys to make noise. She saw the backs of the heads of the men, they drank beers and were eating pizza. A regular little party. Whilst they left her to fester in her own vomit. Motherfuckers. She ducked back down and tracked back around the car furthest from them. She gently lifted the handle and slowly pulled open the door. This might have alerted them, but it didn’t. She slunk low into the driver’s seat. The window was down on their side. When she turned the key, she’d need to work quick to wind up the window and lock the doors. That should keep them at bay for a short while. Electric window switches. Check. Central locking button. Check.

She held the window buttons down, grabbed the key and turned. She pumped her foot on the gas and revved the engine. It fired up and she saw the rev counter hit the red line. It was deafening in such as small space. She saw the men moving from the corner of her eye, they were jumping around manically. She slammed the door shut, then realised that the windows weren’t going up. Damn, were they broken? She released the buttons and pushed again and they started to lift. She hit the lock button with her other hand. Now, they were all around the car. They were all shouting crazily at her, baying her name. Knocking loudly on the window at the side of her head.

“Janet, what the fuck are you doing?!” Carl demanded.

She heard one shout ‘smash the fuckin’ windows’ and another ‘with what?’ It was time to go. She pulled the gear lever to reverse. Took the handbrake off and pushed the accelerator. She went backwards and hit the doors and they made a big dull bang, but held firm. She pushed the gear lever to drive and went forwards. Men were jumping out of the way. There were a variety of expressions ranging from surprise to anger. She braked and placed the gear in reverse again and hit the accelerator. Hard this time. She went flying forwards onto the steering wheel as the car went flying backwards. It hit the wooden doors and blasted through like a ten pin ball.

She pushed the brake peddle and the car came to a stop. The engine purred as she sat for a moment looking at the men. The courtyard lit up red from the brake lights. They looked stunned and confused. Two of them jumped into the other car, a Mercedes, which seemed smaller than the one she was in and then they were shouting at each other, no doubt about the whereabouts of the keys. She held the key up to them and pointed to it with her free hand. She was focused on Carl.

The expression of anger on his face actually changed from outright anger to a small smile and his head shook slightly as if to say ‘We weren’t good enough. Well done. You got one over on us’. But there was still menace in his face, this was her throwing down the gauntlet and him saying you got us this time, but you won’t be getting us again. Once we catch up with you again, that will be the last chance you get to turn over Joseph and the money.

It was time to go. She turned the lights on and pulled the gear lever back to drive once again, turned the steering wheel and set off. As she flew off, she dropped one of her now signature winks at no one in particular. It was only going to aggravate them, but to be honest, they were about as mad as they were going to get. She looked down and remembered that she was just in her bra and felt her face flush hot. All cocky and yet only half dressed. That cockiness might just turn out to be my downfall she thought. How the hell was she going to get something to wear. She couldn’t very well walk into a shop in her bra and ask where the blouses were. No shops would be open at this time anyway. She didn’t really want to be doing too much driving around in just a bra as she’d probably get stopped and sectioned. Where could she find something to wear? On a clothes line? That’s how it would happen in a film, but more than likely clothes wouldn’t be out over night. How about a clothes bank? That’s where she sent her clothes that had sadly passed out of fashion. Where would she find a clothes bank? The one she used in London was at a shopping centre. Maybe she would see a shopping centre if she looked out.

She continued driving in no particular direction and saw a pub with a Scottish flag hanging outside. An idea popped into her head. A long shot. She pulled over, had a look around. No cars about, no people about. She got out of the car, bold as brass climbed up on the wall and yanked the flag which tore off its pole, walked back to the car and drove off at speed. She pulled up a side street, got out, folded the flag so it was in a triangle and then wrapped it around herself in a sort of boob tube style, looped the ends around again and tied them at the front. It was probably the oddest thing she’d ever seen someone wear. ‘Style it out’ she told herself firmly, ‘carry it off with confidence and you’ll get away with it.’

Now she needed to get back to the hotel as soon as possible as they had probably followed her back there from Glasgow. Although they didn’t have transport currently. They clearly didn’t know her hotel room or they would have taken her from her hotel room. The reason they’d done what they’d done was because she’d got out of the hotel and into the public and it was difficult to just nab someone in public view. Unless they looked blind drunk and like they needed a helping hand to get home. If she went straight away, she’d definitely beat them there. Then what? Well she needed some stuff, she’d lost her phone and bank cards in that bag they have. She needed to get back to the hotel room and either get the money and get out of town or lay low while she figured out what to do next.

She drove to the side of the hotel and parked up on a double yellow line. Got out with both sets of the key clutched in her hands. Just in case. She walked toward the hotel and asked for a replacement key card from reception. They were very cool about the lost card. ‘These things happen Madam.’ ‘They certainly seemed to with me’ she thought standing in the reception in her patriotic boob tube. She felt pretty silly in it but looked outwardly as if she was super confident. She was a Lamborghini driving millionaire for christ’s sake, why wouldn’t she be confident.

Back in her room, she laid back on the bed. Finally able to relax a little after yet another horrific night. Her headache still screamed from the Rohypnol. She took a few painkillers and shut her eyes. Losing her phone was not good, but it was locked at least and she could buy another and back it up from her computer. Actually, there was Joseph’s phone, she could just use that, put a new sim card in.

Joseph’s phone started to vibrate again. Someone still thought he was alive. She sat up. Actually, she thought, how had they tracked her to Edinburgh? She had lost them in the car driving away from Glasgow. Definitely. She’d pulled over several times and they were not following her. But yet, Charlie had just managed to rock up in a bar she was having a drink in. So how did that happen? He can’t have just happened to be in that bar. It would be a miracle if they’d managed to find themselves in that same bar just out of chance. So if it wasn’t chance, then they must have some means of tracking Joseph. Did they have something in the bag? She went to the bag, there were no pockets, just the main compartment. She stuck her hand down the sides of all the cash, but couldn’t feel any gadgets. The phone dinged again, Joseph had another message. Lucky man. Was it the phone? She’d seen something on her computer about ‘Finding my phone’ or ‘Track my phone’. Was it an app? Or something in settings? There was definitely something she’d seen.

They probably just tracked the phone here, as they had more than likely tracked it to the hotel in Glasgow. So if the phone wasn’t here, more than likely they would track it and follow it where it went. She could post it to London and they would probably follow it there. But how could she get out of the hotel to post it in the first place? They’d more than likely be at the hotel by now, in the lobby waiting for her to come down. Or the little one would be wandering around the corridors looking for her.

BOOK: To Catch A Storm
4.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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