Author: Alison James
Category: Thriller
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/alison-james/page,20,480702-the_friendship_pact.html
For a couple of hours after she arrives at the hotel, Lucy treats herself to the luxury of doing nothing. She switches off her phone (reminding herself once again that she should arrange to change the number), then runs a foamy bath and soaks in it until the water starts to grow too cool for comfort. The television stays on at low volume, broadcasting inane daytime TV, because silence is still a threatening commodity. Once she has dressed and dried her hair, she calls in at the farm shop adjacent to the hotel and buys a home-made fruit cake, some jam and a selection of cheeses before driving to the bungalow. This will be perfectly safe, she reassures herself, since no one knows that she’s here. Jeffrey has never been entirely robust since the stroke but is in good spirits and seems genuinely pleased to receive an impromptu visit from his only child. Nevertheless, Lucy can only distract him for so long with gifts of food before the questions start.
‘You’re not ill?’ he asks. He uses the pad of his finger to pick up the remaining crumbs of fruit cake on his plate, licking them off with the lack of self-consciousness of someone who’s used to living alone. ‘Only, I must say you’re looking awfully thin, darling.’
‘I’m fine, just tired. Which is why I’ve taken a day or two off work.’
‘So to what do I owe this honour? Is there some other reason you’re in the area?’
Lucy shakes her head. ‘I’ve had so little time to myself since I started work… I just thought it was high time I came to see you.’
This is true, of course, but it’s not her only reason for returning to Redgate. There’s someone else she needs to see; the one person she can turn to for help.
Once she’s back in her hotel suite, she switches on her mobile and calls Adele’s number.
Thirty-One
‘No.’ Adele speaks with a lack of interest that borders on rudeness. ‘We can’t get together today.’
‘Tomorrow then,’ Lucy says, trying to keep her tone bright, trying not to come across as manipulative. Not that Adele has ever been someone she could manipulate. ‘Please. It need only be for ten minutes.’
Adele gives an exaggerated sigh. ‘It’s the school bleedin’ holidays, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’m stuck with the kids round my ankles all day.’
‘That’s fine. We could go somewhere where they can play, and that will leave you and I free to talk.’
‘Places like that cost money. Especially this time of year.’
‘That’s no problem,’ Lucy tells her briskly. ‘It’ll be my treat.’
There’s a brief pause while Adele thinks this over. ‘The kids do love Hazelwood World of Adventure.’ She names a petting zoo and play centre on the far side of the ring road. ‘It’s pricey though; just warning you.’
So they meet in the car park at Hazelwood at eleven o’clock the following morning. Adele is in a grey velour leisure suit, worn with chunky silver trainers and huge silver hoop earrings; Paige and Skye are in matching pink tracksuits. They take the girls to pet the goats, and feed the guinea pigs and rabbits, then Lucy buys them milkshakes and burgers.
‘They’ll be wanting sweeties too,’ Adele warns her, so Lucy buys them each a bag of acid-bright pick ’n’ mix. There was heavy rain overnight and everywhere is still soaked, but she and Adele settle themselves at a picnic table while the children tackle the play equipment, fuelled by their sugar rush and still clutching their packets of candies in their small fists. Lucy has coffee in front of her, Adele a pint of lager and a cigarette.
‘I need to talk to you about Denny. I know, I know…’ Lucy holds up her hands defensively. ‘Again.’
Adele sticks out her chin, tapping a tube of embers into the ashtray. ‘I don’t know anything else, okay? I asked but, honest, I’ve not found out anything.’
‘The thing is…’ Lucy pauses while she wonders how best to describe Denny’s campaign. ‘Since Marcus died, he’s been stalking me. And blackmailing me.’
Adele raises her eyebrows. But she doesn’t look shocked, or even surprised.
‘He’s claiming to have evidence that I plotted to kill my husband. Which is blatantly ridiculous.’
‘Is it though?’ Adele sucks in a mouthful of nicotine and releases it through the side of her mouth with a little puffing sound. ‘I mean, when I read in the papers what had happened – that your old man had died suddenly – that was my first thought.’
‘Seriously?’ Lucy grins at the absurdity of the suggestion. ‘You’ve known me since I was eleven, and you thought I was capable of murder?’
‘You came to me in the first place because you wanted rid of the arsehole, remember?’ Adele’s tone is smug. ‘You wanted rid, and then, hey presto, he’s dead. Bit convenient, isn’t it?’ Her attention moves to the play area, where Skye has just pushed Paige off the monkey bars. ‘Oi, Skye! Be careful with your sister: she’s been very poorly, remember!’
‘Okay, I can see why you might think that,’ Lucy admits reluctantly. ‘But the fact remains, Marcus’s death was an accident.’
‘If that’s the case you’ve got nothing to worry about.’ Adele drains the last of her lager and lights another cigarette.’
‘Denny tried to set fire to my house,’ Lucy says, quelling rising impatience. ‘So, with all due respect, I would say that I have plenty to worry about. I really need to track him down, so I was going to try and speak to your mutual friend… Pauline was it?’
‘That’s right.’ Adele narrows her eyes as she sucks on the filter of her cigarette.
‘And her surname? If I’ve got that, and the name of the prison, I can apply for a visiting order, and—’
‘She won’t give you it,’ Adele says brusquely.
‘Tell me her name, anyway.’
‘Jennings or Jenkins. Can’t remember which.’
Lucy sighs. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any way of finding out?’
‘I could maybe ask Jamil. He might know.’
Adele holds up her empty beer glass to indicate that another pint will help with this process. Sighing, Lucy peels herself off the damp wooden bench and goes back into the cafeteria. When she emerges again with a second glass of lager, Adele has her back turned. She’s talking into her mobile in a low, urgent voice.
‘No, no, of course I haven’t!’ she hisses. ‘What kind of a fucking moron do you think I am?’ Glancing over her shoulder, Adele catches sight of Lucy watching her and lowers her voice so that her end of the conversation becomes inaudible. When she hangs up and walks back towards Lucy, she’s frowning.
‘Everything okay?’ Lucy hands her the lager.
‘Yeah. Some people are dickheads, that’s all.’ She attempts a smile. Lucy suddenly remembers her saying that she was seeing someone on the night that they first met up at the Dog and Fox.
‘Boyfriend trouble?’
‘Yeah, you could say that.’ Adele stands up and waves at her daughters. ‘Girls! Come on – we’re going now.’
‘I was hoping you might be asking your brother. About Pauline, I mean.’
Adele shakes her head. ‘Afraid not. That was a different dickhead.’ The girls trudge over to the picnic table, their sugar high and overexertion making them suddenly lethargic. ‘I really need to get these two back. Okay if you give us a lift?’
‘Sure.’
‘You two thank your Auntie Lucy for a lovely day, okay?’
‘Thank you,’ the girls chorus, and Skye adds ‘Can you buy me a pet guinea pig?’
‘They’ve had a lovely time,’ Adele says as they walk back to the car park. She gives Lucy the familiar grin of old. ‘And I will ask about Pauline for you, I promise.’
‘I’m glad you’ve come in: I was about to phone you.’
The following afternoon, Lucy is back at Roehampton Police Station, handing in Joanne Chandler’s passport and driving licence to DC Andrewes. He leads her into an interview room and indicates that she should sit down.
‘Have you heard from “Renard”?’ He makes the air quotes again.
Lucy shakes her
head. ‘No. I took your advice and went away for a couple of days.’
‘No more texts, or calls?’
‘I’ve kept my phone off most of the time, but no, there’s been nothing.’
Andrewes nods. ‘That’s something I suppose. You look better rested.’
Lucy has been reacquainted with sleep for the past two nights, and as a result her hair has regained some of its lustre and the hollows under her eyes have receded. ‘Anyway, I thought you’d want to know that I’ve searched all the centralised information open to us: birth records, National Insurance, electoral rolls, using the estimated age you gave me, and there’s no such person as Denny Renard.’
‘You’re quite sure?’
‘Yep.’ He slaps his palms against the desk. ‘Doesn’t exist. So he’s not only in the business of handing out false names, he’s definitely using one himself. No big surprise there, but I thought you might want it confirmed. And again, anything else that happens, contact me right away.’
Lucy phones Adele while her car is still in the police station car park.
‘I thought you ought to know, but Denny Renard is not Denny Renard.’
‘What do you mean?’ Adele asks sharply.
‘He’s been using a false identity. Which explains why I’ve not been able to find out anything under my own steam. Only the detective I spoke to—’
‘Hold on,’ there’s another indefinable shift in Adele’s tone. ‘You actually went to the police?’
‘Yes of course,’ Lucy says hotly. ‘I’m not going to be persecuted, and I’m certainly not going to let someone use threats to rob me of all my money.’
‘Jesus!’
There’s a sudden silence on the line.
‘Adele?’
‘Look, I’m going to have to call you back, okay?’
Before Lucy can speak, Adele has hung up, but she phones back an hour later.
‘Listen Luce,’ she says. There’s been another change in mood: now she sounds conspiratorial, warm even. ‘I’ve found out something too. About Denny. Something you need to know.’
‘You know where he is?’
‘Sort of. I’ll explain later.’
‘Can’t you just tell me now?’
‘No, it needs to be face-to-face. Come over to mine when the kids are in bed, okay?’
Lucy has no idea what time Adele’s children go to bed, but she rings the doorbell of her flat at nine. There’s loud music coming from somewhere in the block, and a pervasive smell of takeaway curry.
‘Come in.’
The first thing that strikes Lucy is that the flat is very quiet. ‘Are the girls asleep?’
In reply, Adele simply holds a finger to her lips.
The living room is untidier than it was the last time Lucy visited, and a large hole has been knocked in one wall. Chunks of plaster and brick are heaped on a dust sheet, and there are tools strewn around. Adele notices Lucy’s eye being drawn to the half-finished work.
‘The damp in this place is something terrible. It’s one reason why Paige has all these problems with asthma.’ She rolls her eyes, before pulling her phone out of her pocket and checking the screen. ‘The bloody council don’t want to know, of course, so a mate of my dad’s supposed to be sorting out the wet wall. But, of course, he’s pissed off and left it half-finished.’ She’s paces restlessly, glancing at the door and checking her phone repeatedly.
‘Did you speak to Jamil? About Pauline’s surname? Is that what you needed to tell me?’
‘Kind of.’ Adele sits on the sofa and indicates that Lucy should sit too, but her body is tensed and her eyes keep flicking to the door.
‘So go on then…’ Lucy experiences a curious sinking in her stomach; a realisation too late that agreeing to make this impromptu visit was probably not a good idea. ‘What’s so important that I had to drive all the way down from London?’
Adele doesn’t answer, but gives her the strangest look. Heavy footsteps approach the door of the flat, and a key is inserted into the lock.
‘Is that your boyfriend?’
Adele nods. ‘My better half,’ she says with pride, and the strange look morphs into one of outright infatuation.
The footsteps thump down the hall, not quite muffled by the carpet, and the light is drained from the room as a large shape obscures the door to the living room. Lucy’s throat tightens, and all she can do is stare in horror.
‘Hullo, Blondie,’ says Denny Renard.
PART THREE
Thirty-Two
Lucy feels the air leave her lungs, as though she has been struck hard from behind. Both hands fly instinctively to her mouth.
‘Is this…’
‘My boyfriend,’ Adele says with satisfaction.
‘So you two…’ Lucy’s voice is a high-pitched croak she doesn’t recognise.
‘Seeing as you were always the class nerd, I’m surprised you didn’t work that out for yourself.’ Ever since Denny entered the room Adele’s demeanour has changed, becoming simultaneously energised and hardened. He stands next to her, grinning his animal grin. In addition to the usual branded sportswear, he’s carrying a large gym bag, which he drops at Adele’s feet. The ominous clunking sound sends little ripples of panic through Lucy, making her stomach churn.
‘So why am I here? What do you want?’
Even as she asks the question, the answers swarm into Lucy’s brain. Because those answers are all so obvious now that these two pieces of the puzzle are joined together. Adele offered Denny’s help because they were already a unit, and she must have intended to benefit financially along with her lover.
But Lucy can’t afford to think about all of that now. With the instinct of the trapped, she lunges for the door, but Denny is too quick for her, grabbing her by the shoulder and sinking his huge fingers into her flesh.
‘Oh no you don’t, Mrs Wheedon. You’re going nowhere.’
Still gripping her upper arm with one hand, he gestures to Adele to open the gym bag. She pulls out two lengths of steel chain and a heavy padlock. The first piece of chain is lassoed round Lucy’s ankles and the second wrapped around the radiator on the wall opposite the window and the two are locked together. She lets out a strangled scream and starts tugging frantically at the brackets fixing the radiator to the wall, but Denny holds up a meaty paw. He gestures to the bag.
‘I’ve got another bit of chain in there: if you don’t pack that in, I’ll use it on your wrists.’
‘You can’t do this,’ she shouts, the panic now engulfing all of her, making her break into a sweat. She kicks furiously at the wall, then pounds at the radiator again with the flat of her hand, the movement mirroring the slamming of her heart against her ribs.
‘Up to you,’ Denny, quite unmoved, reaches into the bag. ‘Let’s do your hands too, then.’
‘No,’ Lucy mumbles, the fight evaporating from her. ‘You don’t need to.’ She looks desperately in Adele’s direction, but her face is turned away.
The length of chain fixed to the radiator is just long enough to allow Lucy to sit down. She sinks into a squat and covers her eyes for a few seconds, resigned.
The girls, she thinks suddenly. The girls are here, and Paige at least is old enough to be persuaded that this egregious behaviour is wrong.
‘Help!’ she screams, tipping back her head. Her voice still sounds thin and scratchy, but she inflates her lungs and makes as much noise as she can. ‘Paige! Skye! Help me!’
Adele grins. ‘Oh sorry, Luce… didn’t I tell you? The girls are staying with my mum for a bit. Old Lois next door is ninety and as deaf as a post and the guy upstairs is a druggie who sleeps all day and parties all night.’ Sure enough, the sound of grunge metal thumps through the ceiling. ‘So no point screaming. Nobody’s going to hear you.’
‘Adele, you can’t keep me here. Somebody’s going to come looking for me.’ She tries to remember if she mentioned Adele to DC Andrewes. She’s pretty sure she didn’t, but Adele and Denny don’t know that. ‘I�
��ve told the police where I was going.’
‘Ah well, that was a stupid thing to do; going to the old Bill,’ says Denny, with mock sadness. ‘You shouldn’t have done that, and then you wouldn’t have wound up in this pickle.’
‘If you’d just given Den the money when he asked, then you wouldn’t be here now,’ Adele says, sounding aggrieved, as though this was genuinely Lucy’s fault. ‘It would have all been very simple.’ She goes to put her arm around Denny, but he steps away and avoids her gesture of affection. Adele shrugs and lights a cigarette.
‘Anyway, don’t worry. If you play along then you don’t need to be here very long. Okay?’ Denny grins at Lucy.
‘You mean you’re going to let me go?’
‘As long as you obey certain rules: yes.’ Denny looks around the room until he spots Lucy’s handbag next to the sofa. ‘First I’m going to need your keys and your phone.’ He rummages through her bag until he finds them, slipping them into the pocket of his tracksuit bottoms. ‘Right, all set then. I’ll see you ladies later.’ He raises a hand in salute and strides out of the room. Lucy gives an involuntary shiver as she wonders what he plans to do when he does see them again.
Adele makes Lucy a mug of tea and places it next to her on the floor, but she is reluctant to drink it; worried about needing to use the bathroom. Denny has been gone for what feels like around an hour, and she calculates it must now be around ten thirty.
‘You’ll get dehydrated,’ Adele observes without much interest, kicking her legs up onto the sofa and blowing smoke at the ceiling.
Lucy is surprised by how calm she feels, putting this down to some primordial survival instinct. This is Adele, she tells herself. Adele has no reason to want to hurt her; she’s just under Denny’s spell. If anything is ever going to get her out of this horrible situation, it’s the fact that she knows Adele a lot better than he does. That they have history. She has to exploit that, and not allow herself to get panicked.