Tyrone nodded. ‘It’s still there then?’
‘And there’s more. So much more.’
Tyrone ran into the apartment, hurrying through like a gust of wind before coming back. ‘I knew it.’ Grabbing his phone, Tyrone pulled DI Harte’s card out of the sleeve in his phone case and began to tap the number in. ‘I’m going to call the police.’
A loud knock instantly shut them all up, then the police entered the unlocked communal door. Tyrone instantly put his hands up and Alice and Madison cowered. ‘If I have to do time, will you look after Clover, Alice?’
Alice stared tight-lipped and nodded as DI Harte stood there, her temples twitching with anger as the other officers followed her in.
64
My lips, I can’t breathe. It happened so fast, the binding of skin to skin and I can’t bear to pull them apart. Only a short while ago, I was mentally preparing myself to tear the skin from the bone in my wrist so that I could escape but look at me. I can’t even prise my own lips apart. It’s like the thought of a paper cut or a pinprick or nails down a blackboard. Sometimes it’s the smaller things that we fear the most. I shouldn’t have yelled.
As soon as I said I loved him, he flipped. It should have worked. He should be crying in a ball now, releasing me from the binds and trusting me. I’ve screwed up and now he’s going to kill me.
My stomach keeps cramping from the nauseating hunger and I want to hold it or bend over but I can’t.
‘Damn it!’ His shouting is booming through the walls. Lots of banging and swearing and he’s talking to Hailey again, the person who doesn’t exist. The music still plays and I can’t hear my breaths. That’s probably a good thing.
Lots of people say that being mindful is good. Concentrate on breathing and feeling. I don’t buy into it. When I sit in silence, I hear things and I get hung up on them not sounding right. I hear and feel my heartbeat and I wonder if everything’s as it should be. When I swallow, I catch the sound my throat makes at the back and I don’t like it. I don’t like any of it. I prefer the sound of traffic or children playing or the hum of the television in the background. But not this music. I want it all to go away. All I want to hear now is my mother’s soothing voice again and my brothers taking the pee or my father trying to discuss what’s on the news with me. I begin to rub away at my wrists.
I try to lift my neck a little to get a glimpse of what I’m doing. My eyes have adjusted to the dusky room. I can see that a tiny flap of the blackout material has lifted at the corner of the window.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch light on metal as he storms past and deadlocks the front door. Then the track ends and silence. With my stuck lips, I swallow and it sounds wrong. My ears pop and it’s like the volume just went up. Shuffling and muttering – the words I cannot decipher. Again, it’s me and the sound of my breathing and swallowing.
Saw away at the skin on my wrist, that’s what I should do. A tear slips down my face as my flesh slices even further. The raw burning sting is like nothing I’ve ever experienced and I stop. I can’t do it. Maybe this is why people give up. Death preferable to the pain of existence.
A few more tears slide down my cheek. I want to go home. I want to see my family and I miss my work colleagues. I’d never admit it to PC Smith but he’s one of my best friends and I miss him too. DC O’Connor always gives me time and cookies or whatever his wife has been baking. I always liked him a lot. My team are my friends and I want to see them again.
It is as if the air in the room has shifted. That’s what I mean about mindfulness, this intricate focus on the smallest of things. I didn’t hear him creep up the hallway but he’s there. It’s as if he’s staring right through me. My heart wants to escape. I can feel it banging away and the flutter in my throat gives me a sense of being choked. Sweat forms at my brow yet I’m shivering as the temperature drops. It’s cold, so icy cold that I can’t quite feel my arms and legs as much as I could a few minutes ago.
Panicking and pulling, I keep my focus on him, then I glance at the knife. This is it. I scream in pain and all I see is blood.
65
‘What are you three doing here?’ Gina glanced through the open apartment door then at the three students bundled together on and by the stairs. ‘Madison, shall I call you an ambulance?’
The student sobbed as Alice held her tightly.
‘Madison, are you okay?’
Tears drizzling down her face, Madison nodded. ‘He was going to kill me.’
Alice held her closely and stroked her head. ‘It’s okay, Maddie. You’re safe now.’
Corrine came out of her apartment and Lauren stood at the top of the stairs rubbing her sleepy eyes as she spoke. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I’m sorry, really sorry.’ Tyrone stood. ‘It’s all my fault. I told Alice and Maddie to help me. I thought I saw something and wanted to prove it. I was going to call, look.’ He held his phone up with one hand and flashed Gina’s card with the other. Her number was half keyed in. ‘We just wanted to give you the proof.’
Jacob nudged his way in between PC Smith and another uniformed officer.
Gina sighed. ‘Is this tenant in?’
Madison shook her head. ‘Not unless he’s hiding in a cupboard.’
Corrine butted in. ‘Look. What the hell’s happening here?’
Gina’s shoulders slumped. ‘Just go back into your apartment, please. Someone will speak to you in a short while.’ Corrine let out a snorty huff and slammed her door. Gina nudged Curtis’s door and it fully opened. ‘Why is his door unlocked?’
