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Author: Sophie McKenzie

Category: Thriller

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  Annie frowned. ‘But it’s the summer holidays,’ she said plaintively. ‘I thought we might go to see a movie this evening?’

  I gripped the stair rail. The usual annoyance was welling up inside me. The last thing I wanted was to go anywhere with Annie fussing over me. I had a sudden flashback to Wolf’s dad’s sneering face as he’d looked at my jeans and T-shirt, then Wolf’s intense eyes when he’d looked at me and said I was beautiful. A shiver slithered down my spine. I needed time alone. Time to go over everything he’d said . . . to make sense of it.

  ‘It’s coursework I have to do,’ I said, trying to sound as patient as I could. ‘Art coursework. There’s masses of it.’

  Annie nodded. ‘OK, of course,’ she said. ‘I’ll bring you up a drink in a moment.’

  I resisted the impulse to snap that I didn’t want a drink. She was only trying to be nice and the calmer I kept her, the sooner she’d get off my back.

  ‘Thanks.’ I went up to my bedroom and flung myself on the bed. Thoughts crowded my head. Natalia would still be on her train to Scotland. I hoped she was OK. I could see from my phone that Esme had sent me a couple of texts demanding that we should meet. Wolf hadn’t called or messaged . . . Well, of course he hadn’t. I’d more or less run out on him.

  My phone beeped and I snatched it up. Maybe that was him texting now.

  I looked at the message:

  I saw you, Madison. This isn’t over.

  My heart thudded. The sender’s name and number had been withheld. But I was sure who it was. Declan Baxter. He was not only rich, powerful and a criminal.

  He was threatening me.

  22

  Falling Out

  I closed the message and sat, trembling, on the edge of my bed. How had Declan Baxter got my number? Presumably he’d taken it from Esme’s phone, quite possibly without her knowing. It didn’t matter. What mattered was what I did now.

  But how on earth did I work out what that should be? I thought about it for a moment. There was only ever one person I turned to when stuff got seriously hardcore: Lauren.

  It wasn’t important that things had been a bit strained between us the last time we met. I mean, I was still upset that she hadn’t told me she was pregnant or explained the truth about our birth father, but I knew Lauren hadn’t intended to hurt me. The bond between us was surely strong enough to survive a couple of well-meant deceptions.

  I picked up my phone and called her.

  ‘Hey, Mo.’ Lauren’s voice on the other end of the line was immediately reassuring. For some reason I wanted to burst into tears on the spot. I tried to pull myself together.

  ‘Is it a good time?’ I asked. ‘Are you still at work?’

  ‘Naah, I got home about half an hour ago. In fact, I just started my maternity leave. It’s ace. I’m gonna be able to sleep in and swim every day.’ I could hear the grin in Lauren’s voice. It was like there’d never been any distance between us.

  A tear of relief trickled down my cheek. I could feel my whole body sinking lower on the bed, my shoulders relaxing. I hadn’t realised how tense I’d been.

  ‘So . . . so can I come round?’ I said.

  ‘Absolutely, Mo.’ Lauren’s voice softened a little. ‘It’ll be lovely to see you.’

  Feeling calmer and more cheerful, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. Annie heard me on the stairs and materialised from the kitchen.

  ‘Where are you going?’ she asked. ‘What about all your coursework?’

  Jeez, I’d completely forgotten my earlier excuse to keep her at arm’s length.

  ‘There’s stuff for my art that I need at Lauren’s,’ I said. It was only a partial lie after all – and a well-meaning one. I didn’t want Annie to feel hurt because I was confiding in Lauren rather than her.

  To my relief, Annie visibly relaxed. ‘You’re going to see your sister?’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, sweetie, that’s wonderful.’

  Irritation swelled inside me again. Why did she have to make such a big deal out of everything? I wanted to snap that it was perfectly normal for sisters to visit each other, but I held myself back. Long years of dealing with Annie’s feelings meant I knew she’d get into a total state if I got cross – and I didn’t want to have to handle her in floods of tears right now.

  As I hurried to Lauren and Jam’s flat, I read the threatening text message again.

  What did ‘this isn’t over’ mean? If I didn’t go to the police – and there was no point doing that without any proof about Natalia and the Miriam Project – then why would Baxter bother with me anymore?

  This isn’t over.

  I wanted to believe it was an empty threat. But inside I was scared. At least I was nearly with Lauren. She would listen. She would be sympathetic. She would know what to do.

  However, when I arrived, I found Lauren’s flat busier than I expected. Jam wasn’t there – he was still at work – but Lauren’s adoptive mum, Lydia, and brother, Rory, were both in the kitchen.

  Lauren made a face as I walked in. ‘They just turned up,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t think they’ll stay long.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ I said. My stomach was still tied in knots, but I was going to be able to speak to Lauren soon . . . everything would be OK.

  We sat in the kitchen and drank tea. Lauren and Lydia were chatting about the latest news on the baby and all the stuff that Lauren had bought: baby clothes and changing mats and a pram. They were both really excited and clearly expected me to be excited too. I did my best but the truth was that Baxter’s threatening text was preying on my mind. I kept glancing at Rory. He was sitting in the corner, looking bored. It wasn’t fair; nobody expected him to go all gooey over a pair of yellow booties.

  ‘That’s lovely . . .’ I said for about the fifth time. Lauren seemed like a different person, all wrapped up in baby stuff as she was. She was wearing the blue tunic she’d had on when she’d announced she was pregnant. I’d never seen her look so happy or be so relaxed and chatty with her mum before. While Lauren showed Lydia how her new pram folded up, Rory beckoned me over.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I said.

  ‘Mum made me go shopping with her,’ he moaned. ‘We ended up just around the corner from here so of course we had to pop in.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘At least I’m meeting Marcus later . . . d’you want to come?’

  I stared at him. Was he serious? A few weeks ago I’d have given my right arm to be included in a night out with Marcus. I thought back to that wink he’d thrown in my direction the other day and how it had made me blush with embarrassment. Then I thought of Wolf’s intense gaze and the way his voice and his words had made me shiver earlier. That wasn’t about being embarrassed, at least only partly. So why had I shivered?

  You like him.

  The realisation hit me like a slap in the face. Oh my goodness.

  ‘Madison?’ Rory was frowning. ‘So, d’you want to come out with us or not?’

  ‘Er, no. Thanks, but no.’ I knew I was blushing and turned away, worried that Rory would be able to see what I was thinking. I didn’t understand. Wolf wasn’t the best looking boy I’d ever met and I hadn’t spent much time with him, either. I hadn’t even thought I fancied him. And yet . . .

  ‘Bye, Madison.’

  I jumped. Lauren’s adoptive mum was standing over me, all ready to kiss me on the cheek. I hadn’t even noticed her walk across the room.

  ‘Er, bye,’ I said, feeling completely covered in confusion.

  I sat down at the kitchen table as Lauren showed Lydia and Rory out. I suddenly remembered why I’d come here. As I looked at the threatening text message again, I pushed Wolf firmly out of my head. It didn’t matter if he liked me or if I liked him back. I’d run away from him, which would have put him right off me and was probably a good thing under the circumstances. Now I had to focus on what I should do about Declan Baxter.

  ‘Sorry about that, Mo.’ Lauren came back into the kitchen. ‘D’you want some more tea?’
<
br />   ‘No thanks.’ I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to waste any more time. ‘Lauren, I did it . . . I tracked down my birth dad. I met him—’

  ‘You did what?’ Lauren looked so shocked that I stopped talking. ‘What were you thinking, Mo?’ she went on, her eyes wide and anxious. ‘How did you find him so fast? God, are you sure it was really him? Don’t you know how dangerous it is to go off and meet strange men you don’t know? He could have been anybody.’

  My mouth fell open. ‘Of course it was him. I got his name from Annie. Allan Faraday. You saw the report she had. It was easy to find him – he even looks like you. He admitted it straight away too. You know, he didn’t have to show any interest in me at all, but he did.’ I stopped, feeling my emotions whirling up again. It wasn’t just the memory of how Allan had used me. I was also upset by Lauren’s attitude. How could she have so little faith in my ability to look after myself?

  ‘It was still really dangerous to go off on your own without telling me,’ Lauren snapped.

  ‘Well, you don’t tell me everything – you didn’t tell me about being pregnant.’

  ‘That’s different. I already explained . . . I didn’t want you to have to carry such a big secret around . . . Anyway, that’s irrelevant. I just need you to see what a big risk you took going to see a strange man without any back-up.’

  ‘Stop calling him a “strange man”,’ I said. ‘He’s our birth father. Yours as well as mine. Jeez, Lauren, you travelled halfway across the world to find Annie and Sam when you were my age.’

  ‘Don’t exaggerate.’ Lauren glared at me. ‘It wasn’t halfway round the world.’

  I stared back, feeling mutinous. Lauren wasn’t giving me a chance to explain anything. She was all angry and overprotective. And I’d had enough of people worrying about me to last a lifetime already.

  ‘You’re behaving just like Annie.’ The words shot out of me.

  Hurt radiated from Lauren’s eyes. ‘That’s not fair, I just care about you.’

  We sat in silence for a moment. I felt bad. I knew I’d been mean saying that. And yet something held me back from apologising. I’d been so sure that Lauren would listen to me and she wasn’t hearing me properly at all.

  ‘So what was he like, this Allan Faraday?’ Lauren asked.

  ‘I told you, he was nice.’ I hesitated, not wanting to explain how Allan had tricked me into coming to Baxter’s party so that I’d meet and befriend Esme. ‘He exaggerated his job a bit . . . but I think that was just because he was trying to impress me.’

  ‘So he’s a bit of a loser, then?’ Lauren said.

  I looked away. Why was she being so nasty?

  ‘Did you tell him about me?’ she asked.

  ‘A little,’ I said.

  ‘Did you tell him I was having a baby?’

  ‘Er, no . . .’ I admitted. I thought about Baxter’s threatening text message again and how desperate I’d been just a few minutes ago to tell Lauren all about it. This conversation was so not going as I planned.

  ‘Do you care, Mo?’ Lauren asked.

  I looked up at her. ‘What d’you mean?’ I said. ‘Care about what?’

  ‘Do you care about me being pregnant?’ Lauren’s lips set in a thin, unhappy line. ‘It’s just I noticed you haven’t mentioned it. Not once since you found out.’

  I looked down at the kitchen table. A stain from a coffee mug stood out, dark against the wood. I traced my finger round the stain’s outline.

  ‘I told you I’m pleased you’re having a baby,’ I said quietly.

  ‘Right.’ Lauren sat back in her chair. She clearly didn’t believe me. ‘So are you going to see Allan Faraday again?’ A note of sarcasm crept into her voice as she said his name.

  No, I thought. Because he used me and got me into a really dangerous situation that I don’t know how to get out of. But I’m not telling you that. Not now.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said.

  We sat in silence for a few more minutes. I didn’t know how to fill in the huge hole that had opened up between us. After another few minutes, Lauren started saying how she was thinking about taking a bath soon so I took the hint and left. As I walked back to the tube station, I was too depressed even to cry. There had never been a distance between me and Lauren before.

  And, after everything else that had happened, I had never felt so alone in my life.

  Several days passed. I spoke to no-one. Well, I had a quick chat with Rosa before she went on holiday, giving her the briefest outline of what I’d been up to (though playing down the danger I’d been in) and, obviously, Annie was always starting conversations with me – but I didn’t speak to Lauren again and Wolf didn’t attempt to get in touch, either. Esme sent me a couple more texts, but when I didn’t reply, she stopped. Allan also tried to call me. He left several messages in fact, but I deleted them all without even listening to them. Why should I make any effort with him? I’d wanted to make him like me, and he’d just let me down.

  People always let you down. Allan had. Lauren had. I was sure Wolf would, if I gave him half a chance.

  Better not to care about anyone in the first place.

  At least then I wouldn’t get hurt.

  I got another threatening text a few days after the first.

  This still isn’t over. Say nothing to anyone.

  I ignored that too. To be honest, the second text bothered me a lot less than the first had done. After all, nothing had happened to me yet even though Declan Baxter clearly knew who I was and could easily find out from the telephone directory where I lived.

  I spent my time thinking about Wolf. He crept into my head in a really annoying way when I wasn’t focused on anything else. I also threw my energies into the Art GCSE coursework I’d only pretended to be interested in before. At least Annie was pleased I was working hard.

  It was the Thursday of the first week in August, just over a fortnight since I’d tracked down Allan Faraday. I’d been working hard on an essay on the influence of Christian values on art in the Victorian period. I was hungry and tired and came down to the kitchen to make a sandwich.

  I wasn’t expecting Annie to be there, but she was, chatting on the phone to someone.

  ‘So she talked to Jam before she went?’ she was saying.

  My ears pricked up. It sounded like she was speaking about Lauren.

  A minute later, Annie came off the phone. She walked towards me.

  ‘That was Lydia,’ she said. ‘Apparently Lauren’s taken herself off to a hotel in the country for a few days. She spoke to Jam and asked him to pass on the message.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said. I wasn’t sure why Annie looked so worried. After all, Lauren tended to avoid talking to Annie for the same reasons I did. Annie knew that, even if she didn’t like it much. ‘So?’

  ‘Well, it just seems a bit strange to me,’ Annie mused. ‘I mean, she’s heavily pregnant and the hospital where she’s having the baby is here and her family is here and—’

  ‘Do Jam or Lydia think it’s odd?’ I asked.

  Annie shook her head. ‘Jam was adamant there was nothing wrong. Lauren just wanted a day or two by herself in the countryside. She’s gone to a hotel just an hour and a half outside London. Jam’s going to join her when he finishes work tomorrow night.’

  ‘There you are, then,’ I said. ‘I’m sure Lauren’s fine.’

  ‘I suppose, I just don’t like her being all alone.’ Annie wandered away.

  I headed to the fridge, intent on making my sandwich. As I opened the door, my phone rang.

  Absent-mindedly I took the mobile out of my pocket – caller details withheld. Immediately on my guard, I put the phone to my ear.

  ‘Madison?’ The whisper was so low it was impossible to make out any accent or even whether the speaker was male or female.

  ‘Yes?’ I froze. Instinct told me the caller was Baxter.

  ‘You were told to say nothing,’ the menacing whisper went on. ‘Now I have your sister. Soon she will
pay. An eye for an eye.’

  The line went dead. I stood, stock-still, the phone still held against my ear . . . the fridge door still open in front of me.

  An eye for an eye. That was from the Old Testament. I’d just been writing about it. It meant revenge. Baxter must think I’d talked to someone about Natalia and the Miriam Project – and he was taking the most terrible revenge possible.

  An eye for an eye. I’d rescued Natalia – and now Baxter was going to hurt Lauren to pay me back.

  23

  The Clue

  I raced out of the kitchen. I had no idea why Baxter thought I’d told anyone what he’d done to Natalia and the other girls – or how he even knew I had a sister. Esme might have mentioned it, of course, I distinctly remembered telling her about Lauren that day I went round to her house and there were loads of news stories on the internet about me and both my older sisters from years ago. I shivered. It didn’t matter. Lauren was in some sort of danger and I had to help.

  Annie was drifting about upstairs. I could hear her humming to herself as she wandered from the airing cupboard to her bedroom. For a moment all I wanted to do was to go up there and confess everything. However, long experience of my mother had taught me that turning to her for support generally made whatever situation I was in worse. Annie’s response to most problems was to panic. I needed to talk to someone who would believe me . . . who would stay calm . . . and who would know what to do.

  Jam. As soon as I thought about calling him, I felt relieved. Jam would be as worried about Lauren as I was. Once I had explained everything, he would act . . . he would take responsibility.

  I ran into the living room so Annie wouldn’t overhear the call. With fumbling fingers, I found Jam’s number on my mobile. He took a few rings to answer and when he spoke, his voice had that slightly self-conscious air that almost certainly meant he was at work.

  ‘Jam, listen,’ I said. ‘I think something’s happened to Lauren. There’s a man called Declan Baxter. He knows I found out about an illegal operation he was running and he’s taken her. He’s planning on hurting her . . . doing something to her as revenge.’

 

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