In the few seconds I might have left, I think about my life. Myreallife, not the life I show everybody else. About how everything changed when Brian Lawson assaulted me. How I never trusted men after that day. How my relationship with Ed never even got off the starting blocks because I wouldn’t let him in emotionally. How he tried so hard, but I was as cold as the lake in January. And then Nathan came into my life and managed to get past my defences. He was relentless in his pursuit of me.
But I screwed up. I let the wrong man in. Nathan isn’t any better than Brian Lawson. How come I’m only seeing this now? Now that I’m only moments away from death?
Thirty-Nine
KELLY
Tia and I are pleading with Greg not to hurt Fiona. I realise that he’s never going to accept the truth. That he’s been on this journey of bitterness and revenge for so long that it’s impossible for him to admit he could be wrong. He has his father up on a pedestal, and he won’t let mere truth get in the way of that.
‘Okay, Greg!’ I cry. ‘Okay, you win. We’ll admit it that we lied. You’re right.’
Tia’s looking at me like I’ve lost the plot, but I glare at her, trying to make her understand what I’m doing.
Finally the penny drops, and she nods at me. ‘Greg, Kelly’s right. Don’t hurt us. We’ll do what you want. We’ll go to the police. We’ll admit it, okay?’
Greg turns away from Fiona and looks from me to Tia and back again, his eyes suddenly sharp. I need to make him see that we’re serious. It’s the only way we’ll leave here alive.
‘Okay?’ I nod, trying to get him to agree. ‘Is that okay? We’ll do it. You win. We’ll tell the police and the school that Fiona made it up. That we all made it up.’
He steps away from Fiona and walks towards me, jabbing the knife in my direction. ‘Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. You think I’m some deranged lunatic without a brain. You’re just saying this so I won’t kill you and your friends!’ He takes a breath and crouches down in front of me. ‘You think I’m blinded by revenge. But you’re wrong. I just want the truth. I just want…’ his voice fills with emotion and he has to clear his throat. ‘I just want my dad…’ He squares his shoulders. ‘I want my dad’s name to be cleared.’ He sniffs and stands once more.
‘And you can have that, Greg. We’ll clear your dad’s name. Why does it matter whether I’m saying it because I believe it or not? The end result will be the same – your dad’s name will be cleared.’
‘No it won’t,’ he sneers. ‘No it won’t. And do you know why it won’t? Because you’re a lying bitch, just like your friends. Just like my feckless sister who promised to help me, and then betrayed me at the last minute.’
Next to me, Tia is shifting and writhing in her seat, straining to get free. But all three of us are trussed up good and tight. There’s no way we’ll get out of this without help. I need todosomething. To cause a distraction. To yell for help. But I’m paralysed by fear. If I scream, there’s no knowing what Greg will do with that knife. And the chances of anyone being able to hear us in here are slim to none. But then I think about my poor boys and what their lives will be like growing up without either of their parents. And I realise I can’t allow that to happen. I can’t give up. Not without a fight. Instinct takes over and I begin to yell at the top of my lungs: ‘Help! Someone, HELP! HELP US!’
‘Shut up!’ Greg snarls.
Tia and Fiona join in, screaming and yelling for help that we know won’t come. But Greg has already locked eyes with me. He takes two swift steps in my direction, his arm raised, the knife blade catching the lamplight as it swoops down towards my chest. I close my eyes, waiting for it to pierce my skin. Tensed for the pain. Tia and Fiona are now screaming at him to stop, but there’s no sound coming out of my mouth any more. It’s like I’m floating above my own body.
As the blade comes for me, there’s a scraping sound and a cry. My eyes fly open to see that Tia has jerked her chair sideways into me, falling against my arm and pushing my chair several inches to the left. I register a searing pain and wonder what it could be, before realising with a jolt of shock that Greg hasstabbedme.
But Tia’s actions knocked out Greg’s aim. The knife went into my shoulder instead of my chest. If it wasn’t for her, I’d probably be dead right now.
I’m panting and trying not to freak out about the fact that I’ve been injured. ‘Tee, are you okay?’ I gasp. She’s slipped off me and fallen sideways onto the floor, still tied to the chair. Greg jumps back, startled, the knife still in his hand, only now its blade is dripping with blood.
Myblood.
He growls and kicks viciously at Tia’s legs. ‘Stupid bitch. What did you think you were doing?’
She winces and gasps. ‘Trying to stop you, you fucking psycho! I’m not just gonna sit here quietly while you try to kill my best friend.’
‘Greg, stop it,please,’ Fiona begs. ‘Kelly, are you okay? He’s hurt you!’
‘I’m okay,’ I say, even though I’m far from okay. I don’t even want to think about the wound in my shoulder. How deep it is. How serious it is. Because we’re all still tied up and at this man’s mercy. Despite Tia’s well-timed manoeuvre, our nightmare is far from over. And Greg is now even more furious than before. I’m pretty sure he’s about to try again. And this time he won’t miss.
A shape catches my eye as it moves out of the darkness, and I hardly dare breathe. It’s Sophie! She’s alive. Our eyes meet and in this fleeting moment I try to convey all my fears and all my truths to her. I silently plead with my eyes before planting my gaze firmly back on Greg, willing him not to notice his sister. But he’s seen my eyes dart away from the space behind him, where Sophie is creeping forwards. And we all see the whiskey bottle she took from the bar, now raised high above her head.
Is she going to be too late?
As Greg turns, she smashes it down on the side of his head and makes a grab for the knife at the same time. He lunges for her and I can’t stop myself from screaming. But I’m mistaken; it wasn’t him lunging for her, he’s flailing forwards against his sister. The bottle did its work. Greg collapses to the floor unconscious, the knife clattering down at his side, and the room falls silent.
Sophie stands there above her brother, panting and crying. And then her knees give way and she sinks to the floor.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I’m so sorry.’
I can’t tell if she’s talking to us or to Greg. ‘Sophie, are you all right? You were unconscious. Do you need medical help?’
