His words swirled through her mind. Say a word and I’ll kill you.
He wouldn’t kill her. He wouldn’t kill her baby. Words can be said in temper, they can be empty, and can be shouted on impulse. That’s all it was. He wasn’t going to kill her. Pinning her up against the wall was nothing more than an empty threat. Yes, he’d scared her, yes he was rough in bed, but kill her? People use that term all the time, they don’t mean it and that gave her comfort.
Holly turned her head as she heard a rustling in the distance. Two men emerged from the dark foliage at the back of the garden followed by someone she recognised all too well. So that’s how the extra guests were getting in. The whole of the Angel Arms were sneaking in for free drinks.
She flinched as the DJ’s microphone squealed. Tables started to crash and glasses smashed as the DJ switched to ‘I Predict a Riot’. Several men spilled out of the function room fighting as she ducked just in time to miss a flying bread roll. Kerry screamed as her mother, Alison, tried to pull her back. One of the buttonhole flowers landed at her feet as the scuffle passed by her. A carnation, just like those he used to buy her. She kicked it out of the way.
‘I need to speak to you, now.’
Where had he come from? She hadn’t heard him creep up on her.
‘Your room, half an hour.’
‘I’ve got nothing to say to you.’ Tonight wasn’t a good time. The last thing she wanted was a repeat of their last proper face-to-face conversation. He’d done a good job of keeping out of her way ever since that night in her flat. There was no way he was getting another opportunity to pin her to a wall and bully her into getting rid of her baby. He’d also taken his obsession with gripping her neck a bit too far – no longer was it slightly playful during their lovemaking, he’d gripped her like he wanted to suck the life from her. She rubbed the back of her neck, her fingertips touching the scar that he’d left.
‘You’re being stupid. We need to talk. Please?’
A gentle breeze filled the air, providing her with the clarity she needed. She was being stupid? It was he who had refused to talk any more about the matter of their baby. She glanced up at him, taking in his pleading expression. He wasn’t the man who’d been so angry at her apartment, he was the man she knew and loved. Maybe he’d finally seen sense. She brought her hands down from the scar. Maybe her baby would have the father he or she deserved. His hand brushed against hers as he checked over his shoulder.
Francesca stumbled out of the function room through the bi-fold doors, one arm outstretched and her other hand across her mouth. Looking at her, she’d already been sick once down her bridesmaid’s dress and Holly wasn’t going to stick around to watch what was coming. Seeing Francesca throw up would be the very thing that would tip her over the edge, no matter how soothing the breeze was.
The gatecrashers fought, the staff tried to break things up, the mother-in-law ran out and began yelling across the garden like a banshee, and Holly felt numb to it all. Could she trust him? That question was filling her mind as chaos broke out.
As Francesca turned, he shifted his position so that she would only catch sight of his back. ‘I’ll see you in a bit. I’m just going to sort out this mess and I’ll be up.’
Holly turned away from him, tearing a handful of flower heads from one of the table decorations as she hurried to her room. As she slammed the door behind her, she noticed the squashed carnation petals spilling from her clenched fingers. She sat on the bed and began picking out the petals and dropping them to the floor. Confused is how she felt. She’d wait and she’d see exactly what he had to say.
Half an hour had passed, then an hour. If he turned up, he turned up. She brought her knees up to her chest and pulled the quilt up to her chin. He wasn’t coming. She switched off the light and closed her eyes, ignoring the revellers on the terrace below her room. She applied a light amount of pressure to her stomach hoping her baby would move again, but he or she didn’t. The gentle beat of the music was hypnotic and soon she lost the battle with her heavy lids as sleep took over.
Heart in mouth, Holly jolted up in bed as a knock broke her dream. She almost tripped over her dress while stumbling across the unfamiliar room in the dark. She can’t have been asleep for more than a few minutes, at least it felt like that and the music was still playing. As she opened the door a white flash of pain filled her face. Through peppered vision, all she could see was the dark outline of a head, backlit by the fading light from the corridor. That soon disappeared as the intruder closed the door.
Her nose stung as blood sprayed out. Why had he hit her? He’d come to talk. She tried to focus but her eyes had teared up from the blow to her nose. Was it even him? She tried to focus but all she could see were blurred dark images. Another flash of pain hit as her attacker grabbed her wrist and thrust her onto the bed.
‘Don’t hurt the baby,’ she whimpered. Maybe he’d come to act on his promise. ‘Don’t kill me. I didn’t say anything.’ She had been naïve to doubt him. Another blow to the head came from nowhere. She had to get away.
Fight. Hit out. Thrash and run away. If only she could get to the corridor and shout like mad. Someone would wake up.
She opened her mouth to scream and her attacker thrust a pillow over her face, pushing hard. Winded by her attacker, she tried to wriggle beneath. Dark – she couldn’t open her eyes. Dry material that tasted freshly laundered filled her mouth, along with the blood that was slipping down the back of her throat, drowning her.
Trapped and voiceless, two feelings that she was more than familiar with.
Panic rose as she tried to gasp but her attempt was fruitless. The sound of her own heart booming filled her ears as she continued her interrupted dream. The one in which she was walking her newborn in the park and people stopped to say how beautiful she was. In her mind it was a girl. As she slipped away, she kept thinking. He wouldn’t kill her. He’d bring her around. Like at the apartment when he’d gripped her throat, it was just a threat.
The pulsating heartbeat in her ears faded as she slipped into another world. She strolled over to the calm lake, baby in her arms looking out at the ducks. Then it stopped, everything stopped for a second. It was as if time had stood still. No breeze, no trickling of water, the people stood like statues. What was happening? The shining sun got brighter and brighter, dazzling her, filling the whole landscape until she could no longer see as she entered her new serene world of nothing.
Chapter Two
The sound of the ten o’clock news finishing filled the room as Detective Gina Harte pressed stop on the film she and her daughter, Hannah, had been watching. The NeverEnding Story had been Hannah’s favourite movie as a child and they’d both watched it a million times but it still brought a smile to their faces. Hannah was sprawled out on the settee, hand half hovering over the tub of popcorn.
‘I still love that film. It’s a shame Gracie didn’t get to see the end.’ Hannah pulled the settee throw over the little girl who had fallen asleep on the floor. Strands of her long light brown hair reached over the cushion and a trail of dribble slid down her cheek.
Gina smiled. ‘How’s she getting on at nursery?’