Forget Her Name(90)

‘She had it coming. She tried to pretend not to know anything. But she couldn’t fool me. Jasmine was in on the big lie, same as the rest of you. Thinking you could keep Rachel under wraps forever.’ I laugh. ‘You should have seen her face when I tied her up. She looked so shocked.’ I purse my lips and roll my eyes in mock horror. ‘Like that.’

‘You selfish bitch. Don’t you ever think of anyone but yourself?’

‘Of course I don’t.’ I look at him in surprise. ‘I’m a psychopath.’

He becomes serious at that word, his face pale. ‘Well, at least you can admit it. That’s something I never expected to hear from you.’

We sit in silence for a few minutes.

I watch through the misted-up windscreen as a milk float trundles slowly past. It will be dawn soon, the sky is lightening by the minute. People will start to stir in the houses on either side of the street, most of which are still dark and quiet, their curtains drawn. I wonder if my parents are awake yet. And if they know that Dominic has me. Or even care.

So many burnt bridges behind me, I’ve lost count. A shiver runs through me. It feels cold enough to snow.

‘Why are we here?’ I ask.

‘To pay someone a visit.’ Dominic sounds strained, no longer sure of himself. He studies the houses on the right as though in sudden doubt.

For a moment I watch him hopefully. I think he feels sorry for me. Whatever he’s got planned, maybe he’s about to change his mind and let me go.

Then he shifts, snatching the key from the ignition. ‘Right, it’s time. Come on.’

I cough, leaning forward. ‘Untie me?’

He hesitates, then uses a pocket knife to cut my hands loose. Some kind of black plastic tie, like the kind of thing my mother uses in the garden to support roses. I wince and stretch out my aching arms, then rub my sore wrists, trying to get the circulation going again. There are red marks on the skin.

Dominic watches me with a wary expression, as if he’s not quite sure he has done the right thing by freeing my hands. ‘Don’t bother trying to run, okay?’ he says. ‘There’s nowhere to go. Besides,’ he adds grimly, ‘this is something you can’t avoid facing.’

‘I can do what the hell I like.’

‘No one can outrun their past.’ Dominic gets out, slamming his door. He comes round to let me out of the passenger side. ‘Not even you, Rachel.’





Chapter Fifty-Six

Dominic leads me to the front door of one of the semi-detached houses, holding me tightly by the elbow, his face unreadable. The garden path has crazy paving, a few slabs missing, weeds growing in the sandy gaps, and a sad-looking rosemary shrub in a pot beside the front step. There’s a silver Renault hatchback parked on the drive, with a Green Party sticker in the rear window.

Dominic presses the doorbell. A long, hard press, as though designed to wake anyone who might have been considering a lie-in.

‘Who lives here?’ I demand, but he doesn’t answer.

I take a step back, Dominic still gripping my arm, and look up at the window above us. Have we been invited or is this a surprise visit?

The curtains upstairs are still drawn.

‘Did they know we were coming?’ I ask. ‘Maybe we should come back another time. Let’s go somewhere for breakfast instead. There must be an early-opening café somewhere round here.’ I yawn and stretch again, though secretly I’m worried. What the fuck is all this about? ‘I could murder a fry-up.’

He drags me back to his side, his face tight. ‘Behave.’

‘Yes, master.’

His gaze flicks to me, but he says nothing.

‘You’re a tough audience,’ I say.

‘Shut up.’

I set my teeth at his tone, wishing I could make a run for it. But I know he would only catch me and drag me back.

The downstairs window is covered with thick net curtains, a dingy grey colour. Who the hell lives here and why does Dominic want me to meet them? The house looks ordinary enough, even a little run-down, paint peeling from the door frame, a faded sticker on the glass door panel: NO SALESMEN, COLD CALLERS OR CANVASSERS.

I feel sick again.

‘Bacon and eggs,’ I say, struggling to hide my nausea. ‘With fried bread and mushrooms and tomatoes and black pudding. And a hot, sweet cup of tea.’

Then the door opens.

A large black woman with dreadlocks looks out at us, a weary look on her face like she’s been awake all night. She’s wearing a pale-blue uniform with some kind of flower logo on the collar, and a badge that says Nurse Trudi.

‘Good morning, sir.’ She clearly recognises Dominic and is not surprised to see him, despite a hint of irritation in her tone. Her gaze locks on me with interest though. ‘You didn’t say you’d be bringing someone new with you.’

‘Is that a problem?’

‘Of course not, sir.’ Her lips purse as she continues to study me. ‘Though it’s a little early for visitors.’

‘I’m sorry about that. But like I said on the phone, it can’t be helped. When does your shift end?’

‘Nine o’clock.’

There’s a clock on the wall inside. The time is coming up to half past seven. He glances at it. ‘We’ll be gone by then.’