The Attic Room: A psychological thriller - Huber Linda (бесплатная регистрация книга TXT) 📗
‘Okay. We’ll pick you up in five minutes. But you must do exactly as you’re told.’
She could hear he was already in the car.
‘I will. Can Sam come too?’
‘The more the merrier,’ said David Mallony dryly, and Nina clicked off her mobile.
The car, an unmarked police vehicle, picked them up and Nina squeezed her hands between her knees as they sped north along the A6. David was right, she’d make herself ill if she went on like this. But surely this must be it – a remote farmhouse known to Paul, an elderly couple not answering their phone – and the pale green car noticed by people in the same lane. Maybe she was driving towards Naomi at last, and there was still no way of knowing what her child had suffered all this time. Nausea, never far away now, welled up again and she leaned back, taking shallow breaths through her mouth.
Millburn was a village, larger than Biddenham, and a mile off the A6. The driver stopped in front of a red sandstone church on the High Street, and Nina saw that two more police cars and a paramedic on a motorbike were waiting. So maybe the police were taking this more seriously than the other leads from Paul’s computer; they didn’t take paramedics to every single check, did they? The churning in her gut increased. David Mallony went to consult his colleagues, telling Nina and Sam to stay put.
Nina sat watching the policemen gesticulate as they conferred. Anger was beginning to replace the nausea. ‘Shit, Sam, how dare Paul do this?’
‘I know. Just – hope as hard as you can,’ he said.
Nina rubbed her face. It wasn’t hope she was feeling now, it was dread, but he was right. She should hope. She tried to concentrate on being positive.
David Mallony returned and bent to the back seat window.
‘The farmhouse is further along the lane beyond the church. There’s a belt of trees between it and the village, so we can’t see anything from here. We don’t want to warn Wright if he’s there, so Kev and Phil are going to scout through the trees and see what’s going on. Then if necessary the rest of us can drive on up to the house.’
He got back into the car and sat with them, and Nina appreciated the gesture although she knew that nothing today could be of any comfort. The other officers stood around outside.
After about ten minutes David Mallony’s radio crackled, and he spoke with presumably either Kev or Phil, but the voice was so distorted that Nina couldn’t understand more than the odd word. David’s contributions were merely short affirmatives. He lowered the radio and turned to Nina and Sam.
‘They’ve been round the outside of the building and there’s no sign of life and no car. The others are going up there now. We’ll move up the lane a little too,’ he said, edging the car along behind the other vehicles, stopping after a few hundred metres.
From their new standing place it still wasn’t possible to see the farmhouse, and Nina shivered. This waiting was horrendous. As bad as the day they’d done the last brain function test on Claire, with Nina in the waiting room, knowing what was coming. Today, she didn’t know what the outcome would be, and the dread was mixed with heart-piercing hope. Another ten minutes passed before the next report, and again David Mallony had to translate.
‘No answer at the door and no one in the outhouses. We’re going right up there now but you stay in the car, okay, Nina?’
In a few moments the farmhouse came into view, an old, somewhat ramshackle building with homey tubs of petunias by the front door and cheerful blue and white checked curtains at the downstairs windows. Nina’s brittle hopes plummeted. This place looked a lot more like an elderly couple’s home than a paedophiles’ retreat. The car drove round the house and pulled up by the back door, and Nina saw a policeman jiggle with a window that had been left tilted. In seconds it was wide open and the officer was climbing in.
‘That’s why you should never go out without closing your windows,’ said David, and Nina nodded, her eyes never leaving the window. She jumped in fright when the back door of the house opened and the police officer jogged towards the car, his gloved hand clutching something pink in a plastic evidence bag.
‘It was on the kitchen floor,’ he said, holding up the bag to show a pink and white rubber band bracelet. ‘Is it – ’
Nina’s head was buzzing and she couldn’t see properly. Waves of dizziness were threatening to overcome her. She opened her mouth, but her voice had gone.
‘It’s Naomi’s,’ said Sam. ‘I’ve seen her with it. Nina, put your head down.’
He pushed her head between her knees and the giddiness receded. She scrabbled for the door handle.
‘Nina, stay in the car!’ said David, getting out himself. ‘Wright has a gun, remember? When – if – we want you to come, I’ll get you.’
He disappeared into the farmhouse. Now all the policemen were inside except one who was standing at the corner of the building, and Nina saw with a shock that he was armed. There was the sound of an engine, and the paramedic appeared up the lane and parked on the far side of the car. Nina moaned.
‘Dear God, Sam, is she - ?’
David’s voice. ‘Nina! Come quickly!’ The shout came from within the house, and Nina was out of the car and running, the paramedic close behind her.
Naomi baby, I’m coming, Mummy’s coming, I’m right here…
She crashed through the back door and pulled up short in a large farmhouse kitchen. Which way, which way? The house was silent; it was cold, and seemed deserted – and –
Naomi?
Chapter Thirty-One
Claire’s Story – Glasgow
Something was hissing behind her, but her eyelids were too heavy to open. Panic surged through Claire as she realised she couldn’t move. And her face… something was wrong, her face was broken, tight, something hard was covering her nose – oh God, what was happening? Where was she?
‘Talk to her,’ said a voice. ‘She isn’t deeply unconscious now.’
‘Mum?’
The surge of panic came again as Claire heard the fear in Nina’s voice. It took a monumental effort, but she managed to crack her eyes open. Brightness stabbed into her head but not before she saw the orange curtains hanging round the bed – oh dear Lord, she was in hospital. The thing on her face was an oxygen mask. In a way it was reassuring. They would look after her here, wouldn’t they? Her thoughts drifted into nothing; it was easier.
A bang nearby focussed her mind again. Nina was still there, and she was talking.
‘…and Morag’s looking after Naomi. It’ll be okay, Mum. They’re experts here, it’s a specialist unit so you’re in the best possible place.’
Again and again Claire tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn’t obey her. It was so horrible. She couldn’t see Nina, but that would be Nina’s hand holding hers, wouldn’t it? She tried to squeeze the cold fingers, but her own remained lifeless. She must be really bad; a specialist unit wasn’t going to be on the island. Had they taken her to Glasgow? Oh dear Lord.
Nina was silent again, but Claire could hear her daughter’s uneven breathing; she could sense Nina’s fear. What was going on? Heavier darkness swung into her head, and a shiver ran through her body. She was hurt; she was badly hurt, maybe she was going to die here… No, no, she couldn’t leave her girls. Oh God, she didn’t want to die, please God… But the darkness was all around now.
A new thought struck and Claire’s mind was suddenly clear. Robert. If she died now Robert would get in touch with Nina. What a shock that would be for her girl, to have a long-dead father appear and say – what? What would Robert tell Nina? And what would Nina say, what would she think of Claire for lying to her all these long years? How stupid she’d been; she should have written that letter to Nina, the one to be opened after her death. Nina would never know why her mother had lied about her father’s death. But maybe she could still put that right.