Red Alert (18 page)

The landing was dark and quiet. She switched on her torch and shone it up at the opening of the loft. She wondered if she ought to go up and see Johnny right away. No, better get all the things collected together that she needed first.

She hurried downstairs on tiptoe, and with the help of her torch she made her way to the kitchen. While the kettle was boiling for the flasks of tea and coffee, she made sandwiches and put them in a tin, then she took the sandwich tin, a can of paraffin and a few other odds and ends upstairs and laid them on the landing floor in readiness for her climb to the loft. The water had boiled by the time she returned to the kitchen and she hastily filled the flasks and switched off the light before tiptoeing back upstairs again.

Quite an odd assortment of articles was now spread out on the landing floor and Kirsty had some difficulty in keeping her feet clear of them in the dark as she struggled to pull down the loft ladder. At last she managed it and she was standing with one foot on the first rung, on her way to push open the loft hatch, when she heard a door creak open. She clicked off her torch, the hatch disappeared, and the darkness was utter and complete. Afraid to move, she remained with her foot on the ladder, her fingers digging into the big metal torch in her hand.

Footsteps were coming cautiously along the corridor. Kirsty shrank back against the wall.

At any moment, someone was going to come around the corner on the landing and literally fall over all the stuff she’d spread out on the landing floor.

Her thoughts jumbled together in wild confusion. Had Paul returned to continue his search? Had he sneaked round the back of the house and climbed a drainpipe into one of the empty bedrooms? Was he now on his way to discover the money in her room?

Or could it be Greg? Had he heard something? Was he coming to investigate?

Suddenly a shadowy figure loomed from the corridor and scattered her thoughts in terror. Like a wild thing, she immediately sprang into action.

The big metal torch cracked down on the figure’s head with all the strength she had in her.

Then everything was still and silent again.

A moment or two passed before Kirsty could bring herself to press the switch on the torch and shine the bright beam downwards.

‘Greg!’ Her cry of horror shattered the quiet of the house. ‘Oh Greg, darling, what have I done?’

Greg lay in a crumpled heap at her feat. A splash of bright red blood oozed from the side of his face.

He didn’t seem to be breathing.

The harsh beam of light darted about, slashing at the blackness of the house.

‘Greg,’ Kirsty repeated.

Above her head, the loft hatch creaked cautiously open and, aiming the light upwards, Kirsty caught her brother’s thin, white face. He shrank back, blinking.

‘Johnny,’ she called to him. ‘Johnny, look what I’ve done.’

Slowly his head reappeared.

‘Wait a minute.’ She hurried across the landing and switched on the light. ‘Johnny, look at him. I’ll never be able to forgive myself.’

‘Maybe it’s not as bad as you think,’ Johnny whispered, kneeling down at the other side of Greg’s motionless figure and cradling his head in his arm.

Kirsty whispered, ‘Hold him until I get a sponge from the bathroom.’

When she returned she bathed the blood from Greg’s head.

‘It’s just a small cut. I can see it now.’

As she spoke, Greg stirred and groaned, making Kirsty and Johnny stare, paralysed, at each other. At any moment, Greg was going to open his eyes and see Johnny crouching over him.

‘Get back.’ Kirsty was the first to gather her wits together.‘Quick! Carry as much as you can up with you. I’ll bring the rest.’

Rushing across the landing, she switched off the light.

‘Kirsty, I can’t see my way.’

‘Sh-sh.’ The torch clicked on and flickered impatiently around the ladder. ‘For pity’s sake, just get up there.’

Like magic the articles which had been strewn all over the landing floor disappeared, Johnny clambered wildly into the loft, and the wooden hatch crashed shut.

In the dark, Kirsty could hear Greg grope shakily to his feet.

‘Greg, darling, it’s me.’ She clicked on the torch to reveal him standing clutching his head, still looking dazed.

‘Greg, I’m so sorry. I thought you were the burglar. I couldn’t sleep and I was just coming out of my room to go along to the bathroom for some aspirin when I heard footsteps. I panicked and grabbed this torch and the next thing I knew, you were lying unconscious at my feet.’

Greg managed a chuckle of amusement.

‘That’s a good one. And here was I thinking you needed my protection this weekend.’ He laughed again and rubbed his injured head.

‘Judging by the wallop you pack, honey, you don’t need a bodyguard. You do all right on your own.’

‘I’ll switch on the light,’ Kirsty told him, ‘then I’ll fetch some sticking plaster for that cut.’

In the bathroom, she swallowed a couple of tablets to steady her nerves. Goodness knows how she’d be able to sleep after all this excitement, she thought. But eventually she did sink thankfully into bed, complete exhaustion overcame her, and she remembered nothing more until morning.

Then before she made breakfast and before Greg came downstairs, she furtively dialled the number of the casino where Paul and Renee worked. With the receiver clutched against her cheek, she kept an eye on the sitting-room door in case Greg appeared.

The dialling tone burr-burred with infuriating monotony.

‘Oh hurry, hurry,’ she whispered in exasperation. ‘What’s keeping you? What’s wrong?’

Then she realised that the casino would not be open yet. There would be no one there to answer the phone. Hastily she scribbled a note to Paul instead, warning him that Greg was staying at the house but that she’d persuade him to leave by Tuesday lunch-time:

‘… Could you come and see me about four o’clock? It’ll be safe by then. Greg will be at work and my mother will be in bed. She’s been taking a rest every afternoon …’

Then, struggling into her coat, she stuffed the note into an envelope and slipped stealthily out of the house to post it.

When Tuesday came, she told Greg, ‘Of course you must go back home and go to work tonight, Greg. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t. I’m perfectly all right now. I’ll be back at work tomorrow morning.’

A smile hovered on Greg’s mouth but his eyes surveyed her thoughtfully. ‘You seem in an awful hurry to get rid of me.’

‘Don’t be daft. We’ll see each other tomorrow at the station. I’m just worrying about you taking so much time off work on my account. There’s no need, really.’

‘Mm … Well, I’ll leave at lunch-time but I’ll have to go home first for a change of clothes, etcetera. There’s a couple of things I need to collect too.’

‘I’ll tell you what.’ Kirsty smiled. ‘We could go for a walk or something.’

‘Good idea,’ Greg agreed. ‘It’s cold but you can wrap up well and we’ll step out and soon have the roses back in those cheeks of yours. How about you, Mum?’ He turned to Mrs Price, chuckling. ‘Come on, where’s your hiking boots? Jump to it.’

Mrs Price laughed and shook her head. ‘You’re an awful lad. Away you go with Kirsty. It’s time she had a breath of fresh air. Apart from that run in your car to your place, she hasn’t been out for days.’

Arm in arm with Greg, the strength of him close to her and the crisp wind whisking at her hair, Kirsty felt happier and more confident than she’d done since the whole terrible business with Johnny started. She would manage to cope after all. She’d make sure that Johnny was looked after. No one, not even Paul Henley, would be allowed to lay a finger on her brother.

‘Kirsty, look up there.’ Greg’s deep authoritative voice suddenly scattered her thoughts.

They had been down to Kelvingrove Park and the surrounding area and were now returning from another direction. They were approaching the back of the house and it was at the house that Greg was pointing.

‘What?’ she murmured cautiously. ‘I don’t see anything.’

‘The loft.’

‘The loft?’ Her heart raced with panic. ‘What about the loft?’

‘The skylight’s open.’

‘Shouldn’t it be?’

‘I’ve never noticed it open before. Hey, I wonder if …’

‘Oh stop it, Greg.’ She managed a laughing, teasing voice. ‘For goodness’ sake, what a suspicious man you are. You really should have been a policeman. I was up in the loft the other day putting some more stuff out of the way. I opened the window, silly. It was so dusty and airless, I could hardly breathe.’

She could hardly breathe now, so terrified was she that Greg might pursue the subject further. But her luck held and, apparently quite satisfied with her explanation, he said no more about it.

Nor did he show any uneasiness about her suggestion that he should leave Botanic Crescent. She couldn’t really relax, however, until she actually said goodbye to him.

She peered at her watch, willing Paul to hurry.

Johnny’s life could depend on how she handled Paul this afternoon. She must threaten to destroy the money – surely that would force him to keep his promise and get Johnny safely on board a ship within the next day or two.

When at last she saw his car approaching, she hurried to open the front door before the bell rang.

‘Thank goodness! I thought you were never coming.’

‘No need to worry, beautiful. I’d never miss an opportunity of visiting you.’

‘Nor would I, darling.’ The sarcastic voice from behind Paul startled Kirsty.

‘Oh, it’s you, Renee.’ Although she had no liking for the woman, she hadn’t been looking forward to being alone with Paul and so she felt quite glad to see her.

Once they were in the sitting room, Kirsty said, ‘I’ll come to the point as quickly as possible. I sent that note because I especially wanted to see you today. I wanted to tell you that I know where the money is. And I’m going to destroy it, burn every paper note in the bag.’

‘You wouldn’t dare,’ Renee said.

‘Oh, wouldn’t I? Wouldn’t I just …’

Paul stared at her. ‘You know, Renee, I believe she would.’

‘Another thing I want to make clear,’ Kirsty went on. ‘You’d better not try laying a finger on Johnny. And no more lies or wasting time. I’m warning you, if you don’t get him safely on board a ship before next week, you’ll never see a penny of that money.’

‘Why, you little …’ Renee took a step forward, but immediately Paul gripped her arm.

‘Take it easy. Everything’s going to work out exactly as we planned.’ Then he turned to Kirsty. ‘There’s no need to get nasty. We’re friends of Johnny’s, remember. I’ll get him out of the country all right.’

‘But it must be within the next week,’ Kirsty insisted. ‘That’s the whole point of sending for you today. To impress on you how impossible it is for Johnny to stay here more than another few days. For one thing, his health’s in danger. And for another, any day now, my boyfriend’s going to start asking questions. Not only that, my father is due back soon from down south. And don’t forget you and Renee are in this too. It’s not just Johnny who’ll suffer.’

Suddenly her attention switched away from them. ‘What was that?’

Then suddenly and unmistakably, the doorbell rang, bringing both Paul and Renee running.

‘What do you bet, that’s your bloody firefighter now,’ Paul hissed.

‘No, he didn’t say he was coming back.’

Kirsty walked across the hall.

‘Greg darling,’ she faltered in surprise when she opened the front door, ‘I didn’t expect to see you again today.’

He walked past her into the house. ‘I decided to check that you and Mum were all right before I go on duty.’

‘Mum slept late. I was just going to waken her after my visitors left. Paul and Renee … They’re just going.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘I’m certainly being well looked after today. Paul and Renee called to see if we were all right too.’

‘Oh?’ Greg’s keen grey eyes studied the two of them. ‘That’s interesting.’

‘Well, we’ll be seeing you, Kirsty.’ Paul propelled Renee towards the door.

‘Yes, and thanks for calling.’

Kirsty struggled to appear normal and pleasant to both of them when ushering them out.

‘See you again soon,’ she called, and waved as their car slid away.

‘What was that all about?’ Greg demanded when she came back into the sitting room.

‘What do you mean?’ Guiltily she avoided his stare.

‘Come on, Kirsty. I’m no fool. That gruesome twosome didn’t come here out of the kindness of their hearts, or concern for you and Mum.’

‘Well, that’s what they told me. And after all, they were friends of Johnny’s, Greg. I couldn’t very well turn them away.’

Greg’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘What’s his name again?’

‘Paul Henley.’

‘What does he do? Where does he work?’

She hesitated, then said unhappily, ‘Darling, does it matter? Why do you want to know about him?’

‘He interests me.’

‘Are you staying for tea?’ she asked, in an effort to change the subject. ‘I’m just going through to the kitchen to put the kettle on.’

‘No, I’d better be off again, Kirsty. Sure you’re OK?’

‘Yes.’ She smiled. ‘Fine.’

‘See you tomorrow at the station, then.’

As soon as she closed the door on his retreating figure, uneasiness descended on her. She went through to the kitchen to prepare the tea, all the time wondering what was going on in Greg’s mind.

She lit the gas under the kettle and it hissed loudly through the quietness. The only other sound was the gentle tinkling of the cat’s bell as it came into the kitchen and went over to its saucer of milk.

Then, suddenly, there were other sounds. A thumping, a noise of running feet, the kitchen door crashing open.

‘Johnny!’ she gasped. ‘Have you gone mad? Why are you down here? What’s wrong?’

He made a pathetic picture, black curls damp and tousled, thin face crimson bright and glistening with fever, blue eyes agitated.

‘Kirsty, I couldn’t stand it a moment longer. I’ve caused you enough trouble. God knows what might happen next. I’ve a terrible feeling that you’re in as much danger as me now and I can’t stand it, Kirsty. I must do something about it. I must do something before it’s too late.’