Fragments (6 page)

I’m at the sink when I feel Mick move behind me. He reaches past to fill a cup of water, close enough for me to feel his hot breath on my cheek. When the cup is full he slides his hand along my waist and down my hip. I freeze. Now I’m picturing turning round and bringing my elbow into his face. Hard.

‘Hurry up with that pizza, eh, darling? I don’t like to be kept waiting,’ he whispers. I
somehow
manage not to do anything violent. He goes back to the table. That’s when I see Charlotte in the doorway, as still and shadowy as a ghost. I don’t know how long she’s been there. I catch my breath, ready to launch into my defence, but she quickly looks away and comes over to kiss Mick on the cheek before sliding into a chair opposite him.

I open the freezer and take out a pizza, my hands shaking hard so that I fumble and almost drop it. I’m wondering just what kind of weird house I’m living in as I open the packaging. I rip it a bit more than necessary to open it.

C
HAPTER
6

dangerous beasts

A
s soon as Ariella is in bed I go to my room and watch the telly in there all evening, although I can’t even tell you which programmes I watch. I’m too worried about how I’m going to cope with old octopus hands without punching him in the face. I’d never have stood for that kind of crap before. One of Zander’s brothers stayed once and tried it on with me. He lost two teeth. Luckily, Zander thought it was the funniest thing ever.

It’s the element of surprise, you see. No one expects a skinny girl to hit them so I get in there first. It’s something Jax taught me, learned over many years of dealing with bullies.

Oh, mate. I miss you so much
.

In the middle of the night I wake up, heart pounding. For a second I think someone is in the room. Pearly moonlight slices through the gap in the curtains. There’s just enough light for me to see that I’m alone.

I swing my legs out of bed and run across to the door to check it’s still locked.

I knew I wouldn’t have forgotten to do it. A bad dream, then? My heart’s still banging as I cross the floor and get back into bed. Shivering, I pull the duvet around my shoulders.

About a second later, the door handle wiggles. Someone is turning it from the outside. I’m sitting bolt upright, clutching the duvet up to my chin.

I’m out of bed and across the room, ready to let fly at the sleazy creep behind the door. I’m mentally packing my stuff as I unlock it and fling it open.

Ariella is standing there in her pink PJs, shivering all over. In her arm she’s holding her fluffy rat toy.

‘What is it?’ Relief makes me hiss like a popped balloon.

Her big eyes shine in the dim glow of the night-light outside my door.

‘I can’t sleep,’ she says, too loud for this hour of the night. ‘Mummy and Daddy were fighting and then Mummy cried. Can I sleep with you?’

I hesitate for a second and then sigh, resigned.

‘Come on, then,’ I say. ‘But no hogging the duvet. Or talking. Or putting cold feet on me.’

She pushes past me to get to the bed. I poke my head out of the door and listen but can’t hear anything. Shivering, I lock the door before climbing into bed. Ariella curls around me and something hurts inside, like pressure on a bruise. A tender feeling presses on my chest as her breathing slows into sleepiness. After a few moments, I roll away into a chilled corner of the bed, alone. I can’t get too close. Anyone I’ve ever cared about has been taken from me. That’s just the way it is. If I’m going to survive then it has to be on my terms. And there can be no passengers.

The next day Charlotte makes me clean the house from top to bottom, even though it doesn’t really need it. She’s even more brittle and snappy than usual. At midday a woman arrives with various bags and she’s all smiles then. They disappear off upstairs together.

Various cars and vans arrive and the kitchen fills up with people cooking and shouting orders to each other. Women with towering displays of fresh flowers shout, ‘’Scuse me!’ as they jostle past and arrange them on gleaming surfaces. I peek in at the dining room and see it has been laid out as if for a banquet. Ariella is chatty and hyped up and it’s hard not to let a little of the excitement rub off.

When Charlotte emerges later, she’s had her hair done so that it swings, shiny and smooth, around her face. She’s wearing make-up that hides the purple shadows under her eyes and is dressed in a black clingy dress and shoes with killer heels.

I say, ‘Wow, you look great,’ and she purses her scarlet-lipsticked lips in a way that’s almost threatening to be a smile.

‘Who’s coming?’ I say, pushing my luck. She closes up so fast I almost hear the snap.

‘Old school friend of my husband,’ she says tightly. ‘But he’s an important man. Just make sure you and Ariella stay out of the way.’

I turn and make a rude face as she tip-taps out of the room.

Ariella’s in the bath later when I hear raised voices and laughter. I go to the bathroom window, which looks out over the gravel driveway at the front of the house.

There are three large black cars with darkened windows. Each one has the distinctive number plate of the Counterinsurgency Squads. A tremor of worry ripples through me. CATS? Why are they coming here? I have to remind myself that now Cal has gone I have no more to fear than any other citizen. They have no way of knowing I was in that Torch house.

I squeeze my eyes shut, thinking about the explosion again. I hope they didn’t know what was going on. That the end came quickly…

‘Are you crying?’

I come back to myself. Ariella has made a beard out of bath foam. She peers at me through the bubbles.

‘No, course not,’ I say, with a strangled cough. ‘Come on, let’s get you dry before you end up wrinkled like an old prune.’

Giggling, she gets up, covering most of the floor in soapy water.

I’m combing out her damp hair when my curiosity takes over.

‘So who’s this special guest coming tonight, then?’ I say.

Ariella looks sideways at me with wide eyes. ‘Daddy says he is a big cat and I asked him if he meant like a tiger. And then he
laughed
,’ she says, very seriously. ‘But I don’t think it’s funny because tigers eat people, don’t they, Kyla?’

I try to give her a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry,’ I say, ‘he’s not a real tiger. He’s just a man. Daddy was making a joke.’
He’s a right comedian, your dad
.

Satisfied, she pops her thumb into her mouth.

I’m thinking about this visitor. He might not be a real tiger. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous.

I do exactly what Charlotte says and keep out of the way for the evening. When Ariella is safely tucked up in bed, I scoot into the kitchen and grab some chicken from the fridge, some crisps and an apple to take up to my room. I can hear loud voices and laughter coming from the dining room. I rush past.

Going up the stairs I glance out of the window and see two men in CATS uniform standing in front of the house. They both have assault rifles slung across their chests.

Whoever this visitor is, he’s someone important. I stand back from the window, feeling uneasy.

I’ve been at Craydale Farm for a couple of months now. My cheek has healed and although the bad memories still chase me, I’m getting stronger by the day. I like Ariella, even though I won’t let myself love her. But I’m not ready to move on.

I like being under the radar.

But what if I’ve been kidding myself that I’m safe here?

C
HAPTER
7

electricity

I
go to bed early but can’t shut off my mind. Worries about staying here seem to roll through my head constantly. And I keep thinking about Jax and Cal.

I keep wondering why Mick has got some CATS boss on a sleepover too. Even though I’m not wanted for anything specific, I don’t really know if I’m on any kind of security list. And, let’s face it, when I lived with Zander I spent my time taking part in robberies. Maybe my face was caught by a buzz drone.

It’s after two a.m. when I decide I need to go and get some water. In the past I’d have thought nothing of getting it from the bathroom tap. But I’ve got fussy since I’ve been here, I guess. All the flooding has done something to the reservoirs and now they’re saying you should only drink water from certain taps, like the one in the kitchen here.

I don’t have a dressing gown so I pull on a cardigan over my nightie and step into one of the longer skirts I’ve been given for a bit of warmth. Surely no one will be up to see my weird outfit anyway.

I pad carefully down the stairs and stop abruptly when I see the shadow of one of the guards against the front door. He’s not moving and I wonder if he’s sleeping on his feet, like a penguin. I would have laughed at this but my teeth are chattering with nerves in the chill night air.

The house is quiet, apart from the tick-tocking of the grandfather clock that sits at the bend in the staircase and the odd pipe banging. My own heartbeat seems loud in my ears as I push open the kitchen door and hurry over to the sink.

The only light comes from the displays of the cooker, microwave and dishwasher. That suits me fine. I’ll grab a glass of water and leg it back to my room.

I get a tall glass from the cupboard over the sink and fill it with water. I take a greedy gulp and then a sound behind me seems to tip it from my grasp. The glass smashes into the sink. I spin round. Mick sits at the nearest end of the table. It’s too dim to see him clearly but I can make out the shine of his eyes.

‘Oh dear, bit clumsy, are we? Bit of a butterfingers?’ he slurs.

He gets up unsteadily. He’s drunk as anything and not tall, but he’s fat and much, much stronger than me. I try to sound confident.

‘I’m sorry. I’ll clear it up.’ I pick up the biggest piece of glass and stand up, ready to get the dustpan and brush from the cupboard across the way.

He’s standing less than a metre away from me now.

‘You better had, hadn’t you?’ he says in a low hiss. ‘You’re an ungrateful little bitch, aren’t you? We let you into our home and you think you can damage our property, is that it?’

He moves fast, so fast I don’t get time to react. His hand is up against my throat, pushing me back against the sink. His other hand is on my leg. It’s hot, sweaty, disgusting. I can hear his rapid breathing, see the too-big pupils in his glazed eyes. ‘I expect we can work something out, though, hmm?’ he says. The smell of cigars and whiskey makes me want to gag.

‘Let me go,’ I say through gritted teeth.

He leers, showing teeth stained with something. Red wine? I don’t know. It reminds me of blood.

‘Where would you go, little runaway Kylie?’ he says in a quiet, silky voice. ‘No one is missing
you
, are they? In a bit of trouble, are we? Is that why we found you, all scratched up in the barn, eh?’ His breathing has got faster now and he’s pushing the weight of his body against me. I can’t move at all. ‘We help each other out around here,’ he says now. ‘You get to stay in my house and enjoy my hospitality. My baby girl likes you. The wife likes you. Well, as much as she ever likes anyone. I like you too. All you have to do is be a bit more friendly, eh?’

His red, sweaty face looms in close and his hand wanders up my thigh. Everything shrinks inside. Disgust crawls over my skin like biting ants and then my anger expands outwards, filling me up.

I spit. It hits his cheek and slides down his face. There’s a hitch in time, like neither of us can believe what I just did. His eyes widen in shock. My head snaps to the side. I didn’t even see his hand move. My hearing’s gone all muffled and funny and I’m dizzy. He grabs my throat, muttering, squeezing so I can feel myself starting to black out. His wet fish lips touch mine and sick rises inside.
No. No. I won’t let this happen
.

I reach behind, fumbling for something, anything I can use to make this stop.

They close around the heavy bottom of the broken glass. I swing it round and it catches the side of his face. A crimson gash opens like he’s been unzipped. He roars with pain and clutches his face, stepping back. His eyes bulge with hate as he swings a punch. I duck and he almost topples over.

Got to get out of here! I shove him, hard, in the chest and he stumbles backwards, still roaring. I can feel the energy of a waking house as I run out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

‘What the hell is happening here?’

The commanding voice stops me in my tracks. I turn round. A big man with glasses is tying a navy blue dressing gown around his middle. The glasses glint and I can’t see his eyes.

Mick stumbles out of the kitchen. Blood drips from the fingers clamped to his face.

‘Little thief!’ he yells. ‘She’s the au pair, Alex! I caught her going through my wallet and she attacked me!’

Two large bodies seem to appear from nowhere behind me. From the corner of my eye I see starched blue uniforms and smell the damp night air on them.

‘He’s a filthy liar!’ I yell. ‘He attacked me! I was defending myself!’

‘Why, you little . . .’ Mick lurches forward again and I know he’s going to hit me. I step backwards but feel strong hands gripping my upper arms. I cringe away from the blow, turning my face the other way. But it doesn’t come. Panic pushes my breath out in fast pants. I look back and see the other bloke has one hand lightly on Mick’s shoulder. Mick is looking at him and then back at me.

‘How many times have I told you,’ says the other man in an icy voice, ‘that you are to call me Alexander? We’re not students any more.’ He turns to look at Mick, who has a cringing expression on his face. ‘Hmm?’

‘Sorry, I, um —’ says Mick but ‘Alexander’ cuts him off. ‘I think one of my men should drive you to hospital to get this . . .’ he gestures vaguely in the direction of Mick’s bleeding face, ‘stitched up.’

Mick nods, looking as pathetic as a kicked dog. The other man turns away. ‘Now I’m going back to bed. I have an early start in the morning.’ He throws his voice to the men behind me. ‘As for
that
. You can lock her up. We’ll drop her off at a police station in the morning and they can deal with her.’