Another sharp pain flashes through my head and a damp tear seeps down the side of my face. Kick out. That will give me an indication of how much space I have. Maybe I’m in a room on the floor. No, when I make the slight squeaking noise again, I can tell I’m in a confined space, but it is quite large. Maybe I’m in a huge van or a compartment in a container, on the back of a lorry. I gasp for breath. I’m being people trafficked. Destined for another country, far away. Sold as a sex slave forever. I think of my daughter, my sweet little Cally and I can’t fight the tears that slip down my face.
‘Annie Bell,’ the voice in my head calls.
Jen calls me that. It’s her voice, guiding me back to reality. No, I remember the accident. This is all an accident, I’ve been hurt and I’m coming around from surgery. Any minute now, a kind nurse will smile and offer me a cup of tea.
I manage to shake my head, trying to properly wake up, trying to see light in the darkness but it’s all encompassing and it’s closing in on me. Total darkness is terrifying. Not like when it’s night and you’ve just turned the light off. After a couple of minutes, eyes adjust and the room becomes a shadowy reflection of its daytime self. I’m trapped and lost. I’m bound and I’m gagged.
I try to spit the rag from my mouth by shifting my lips and trying to poke it with my tongue. That’s when I feel the resistance. There is a piece of material holding it in place. I try to calm my breathing using only my nose. Slowly, my heart rate decreases.
Shifting about, I realise I’m so trussed up I can only half flop around like a dying fish out of water. I finally reach an edge and it’s cold. Pressing my head against it, it feels grainy, like wood. I rub my cheek down it, looking for weakness in its structure but all I get is a splinter. Maybe I’m in a box in a trailer. The sound when I move suggests that. Outside is tinny, inside is wood. I roll over, trapping the skin of my arm under my body then I try to kick up and then to the other side. Again, I kick out.
Who brought me here? The argument I had with Grant flashes through my mind.You will never leave me, ever. Do you understand? And, you will never take this house or my daughter or, I swear, you will just vanish one day. Do you know, on the Dark Web, I can get someone to dispose of you for just two thousand pounds? What a bargain.Everyone knows he’s a cheater, they tried to warn me but they don’t know this side to him. He says these awful things when he’s high and denies that he said them the next day.
Tears well up and my nose fills. Grant’s words ring through my head. While I’d been thinking about the best ways to leave him, he’d been planning to kill me. He meant what he said. He said he’d never let me be the one to leave him and he’s made good on that promise.
An image fills my head. Jen’s body lying on the ground. Blood everywhere. He killed Jen and now he’s going to kill me. I think of Cally and I weep. She idolises her father but she doesn’t see what I see. To our daughter, he’s perfect. I imagine her arms wrapped around him and Taylor taking my place in our home; a year, maybe two down the line, maybe Cally will even call her mummy.
I can’t contain my emotion even though I know it might pain me more. I sob and shake. All I want is to be a mother to my daughter. If he comes to check on me, I will beg and I’ll plead. I’ll swear that I’ll never leave him if that’s what he wants. I’ll do anything to see my daughter again. I try to think back to Jen and her lying on the ground. A car hit her. A silver car, like the old Merc that Grant keeps in the garage. My shoulders drop and I know that I won’t get the chance to beg, plead or see my little girl. He’s not even coming back for me. This is where I have been brought to die and I can’t see a way out. No one is coming for me. No one will know I’m gone and no one will know where I am. I wonder if this is what he got for his two thousand pounds. I’m as good as dead.
NINE
Gina stood to the side of the podium as Briggs read out a statement for the press. The blown-up poster that had been pinned to a board showing a photo of Grant and Annabel Braddock together was on a slant, but you could clearly see them both. She had no doubts that the appeal for witnesses would be on the next local news bulletins. She spotted the journalist she hated the most, Pete Bloxwich. Since the last major case, he’d kept out of her way and she’d kept out of his.
As Briggs concluded a camera flashed. ‘So, if you were driving or walking along Tennant Lane or you saw anything or anyone between ten and midnight last night, or if you have seen Annabel Braddock or her husband, Grant Braddock, both shown in the photo, call us. She might be injured, she might be concussed. It’s important that she’s reunited with her family. Any information is welcome, however unimportant or irrelevant you think it might be. If you saw anything, we want to hear from you. Thank you.’
‘Is it true that she was having marital problems?’ A reporter waited for an answer.
‘It’s not the time or the place for a question like that.’ Briggs shook his head. Gina noticed how smart his suit was and he’d definitely bought a new shirt. She wondered if it was all for the benefit of the woman she’d seen him with.
Another reporter piped up. ‘Where’s her husband? Could he have taken Annabel if you’re looking for him too?’
Briggs cleared his throat and took a sip of water. ‘Any more questions, please forward them to the corporate communications department. This is an ongoing investigation. When we have any further news, we’ll let you know. At the moment, we just need to speak to Mr Braddock and find Mrs Braddock.’
Gina checked her messages. Wyre was waiting for her so that they could go to Taylor, the childminder’s house.
‘Should the public be worried? One woman in hospital and another woman missing? Are we to believe that she was taken by the driver of the car?’
‘We’re still investigating. When I have any updates, I’ll share them with you.’ He grabbed his notes. ‘That will be all for now, thank you.’ He stepped out of the portable light beams and onto the main floor before swiftly heading towards the exit corridor, knowing that the reporters couldn’t follow him through without a pass. The room filled with camera flashes and clicks. Gina hurried past a couple of reporters, hoping to catch up with Briggs before she had to head back out. That’s when she spotted her sullen colleague, standing in the far corner of the room. She let go of the door and pushed through the crowd until she caught up with Jacob. His stubble and the musty smell coming from his clothes told her that he hadn’t been home since leaving work to be with Jennifer, and she wasn’t surprised. ‘How is she?’
He went to talk but instead he swallowed and nervously looked down.
‘You shouldn’t be here? No one expects you to be at work.’
He walked out of the main door and she followed until they were standing alone by a wall.
‘Jacob? Please talk to me.’ Gina tilted her head slightly.
His usually neat hair was kinked to one side, like he’d half slept against a wall. ‘She looks like she’s dead on that machine and there’s nothing I can do. I…’ He took a deep breath. ‘I might never get to speak to her again.’ He paused. ‘I couldn’t stay there any longer, watching that… that thing pump and pump away. Watching monitors as they keep beeping. Watching as they feed her beige slop through a tube in her nose. I spoke to her and you know what? Nothing. That’s what happened. She can’t hear a word I say. All I wanted her to know was that I love her, and to fight. I need her.’
Gina placed a hand on his arm. ‘Jacob, she knows you love her. You two are the most loving couple I know.’
He looked away. ‘We had an argument yesterday. Our first argument, can you believe it?’
‘Couples have arguments all the time but that doesn’t mean she would have doubted how much you love her.’
‘It was stupid really. We have our new house, our dream house, in fact. It’s all white walls and plain, a blank canvas, new and fresh. We argued about the living room. She wants it to be a dark grey, I want it to stay white. She was so passionate about the grey, she said I was a total bore with the decor and it was her house too. She’s right. I am a total bore. Right now, I wouldn’t care if she wanted to paint the walls in pink with yellow polka dots as long as I could have her here, with me. As it stands, she got run over, she went to hospital, she’s had some horrible things done to her, all after having a stupid little row with me. That’s the last thing she’ll remember.’ He gasped.
‘Jacob, it was a silly little argument. She’ll remember the good times, all the lovely things you did together and how much she loves you. I doubt she’ll be thinking about a disagreement over painting the living room wall and you can’t think like that. She’s not going to die.’ Gina felt a lump forming in her throat. Who was she to tell Jacob that Jennifer wouldn’t die? She had no idea if she would or wouldn’t and she too knew that it wasn’t looking good. Gina had called the hospital for an update. Jennifer had been seen by the neurosurgeon, then the trauma surgeon. She’d had various tests and an MRI scan. Her brain tissue was swollen and a bleed had been confirmed. All they could do was wait and see how she responded to treatment.
