The taskmaster, p.25
The Taskmaster, page 25
“I didn’t want my parents to see me; I looked a state. But I had no choice. I ran to the door, relieved when it opened for me, and then I raced upstairs as I heard my parents calling from the living room, ‘Abigail, where the hell have you been?’
“I managed to get to the bathroom and lock myself in. My mum came to the door and started banging, asking me to let her in, but I shouted no, I needed to shower. And that’s what I did. I showered, put on some pyjamas from the wash basket in there, and then I left the bathroom to find my parents sitting on the top of the stairs, looking like their whole world had ended. They were both pale, with bags under their eyes.
“Abigail, there’d better be a good explanation for why you’ve been out all night. We were worried sick. Your dad has had the on-duty officers trawling the streets looking for you,” my mum said, and I walked past them and headed to my bedroom, telling them I was fine. I’d gone out with some friends from school and lost track of time.
“Until four a.m.?” my dad had shouted, but Mum shushed him and said, “At least she’s home now. And she won’t ever do that again, will you, Abigail?” adding, “Consider yourself grounded for the next five years.”
“They grounded me for a month, and I didn’t care. I wanted to stay at home. I wanted to hide in my house and never go out again. I didn’t tell them the real reason I’d been out for all that time. I couldn’t bear to break their hearts. My heart was broken enough for the three of us. But I never forgot those names. Doris, Jilly, Penelope, Carrie, Angela, and Q.”
He stiffened as I said the names, and I glanced up at him through my tear-stained eyes.
Then I shifted back slightly and moved the jewellery box closer to me. I opened the lid and took out the gold locket.
“For years, those names were black marks, vile reminders that were branded into my brain. But I kept them there, locked up. A disgusting memory that wouldn’t fade, no matter how hard I tried. I hated what they did to me, what they’d done to Stacey. I knew there’d be more victims, and yet, at the age I was when I escaped, I was too frightened to tell anyone.
“As I got older, the memories festered inside me, like a virus I needed to cut out. And then my dad got cancer, and I was so fucking mad at the world. Why did we have to suffer when people like that were walking free?”
Isaiah nodded. He got it. I knew he would. And I hated that he’d seen me at my most vulnerable after having the flashback tonight, but maybe it needed to happen. I needed to cut my cancer out of me any way I could, and by telling him, I might just do that.
“I started to research the children’s home and the people who’d worked there. It’d closed down about a year after I’d escaped, but eventually, I tracked down Doris. Her name was Doris Phipps, she lived about seventy miles away, and I spent a fortune travelling to the area to scope out her home, stopping at local hotels so I could find out everything I could.
“One day, I visited her. I told her I was a nurse from the local hospital. I’d followed her to a pharmacy one day and overheard her telling the lady at the counter that she was a diabetic. I said I was there to assess her medication and discuss some new therapies we were trialling.
“She let me in. It wasn’t hard to gain her confidence. And when she went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, I took every dose of insulin she had in the house, walked up behind her and stabbed the needles into her.”
I placed the gold locket on the bedspread.
“Doris died from an overdose of insulin. The papers reported it as accidental death because her family swore she wouldn’t commit suicide that way, and they refused to let the coroner rule that it was suicide. Either way, it wasn’t murder. And I walked away knowing one of them had got the ending they deserved. I took this locket to remind me of what I’d done. I know I shouldn’t have. It was evidence. But I couldn’t help myself.”
I took the ring out next, telling him, “This belonged to Jilly Brand. I baked her a meat pie laced with death cap mushrooms.”
I held up the sparkly cat brooch next. “This is Carrie Ealing’s brooch. I put cyanide in her tea. It felt easy by then to silence them that way. Like I was putting down a rabid animal. It was better for everyone. No one wanted them here.”
Last was the silver tennis bracelet. “I made a cherry pie for Penelope York, and filled it with deadly nightshade. I’d put down four of the six on my list. I’d done it for me, for Stacey, for all the victims they’d destroyed over the years.” I peered up at Isaiah as he stared at my trinkets. “But my father can never know. No one can.”
“I would never tell anyone,” he assured me, and I nodded.
“I know. That’s why I’m telling you now. You saw what happened at Angela Maynard’s house. We’re in this together.”
I took a moment to compose myself, picking the trinkets up and placing them back into the jewellery box.
“It took a lot longer to find Angela,” I said. “I have a friend who’s been helping me track her down.”
“Someone else knows?” he asked, looking concerned.
“No. Not really. I found him on the dark web, and I hired him to find her and Q. He doesn’t ask questions, and I don’t tell him anything. But he called me to tell me her location. And when you walked in, my plan went to shit. I lost it. She was supposed to die from drinking my arsenic laced coffee. But I panicked.”
“And the poisoner found a new way to reap her revenge,” he said.
“I found out that poison carried less guilt, for me. They deserved to die. I didn’t deserve to carry the guilt of killing them. That had to die with them. But for Q, it will be different. I have other plans for him, but we can’t find him.”
Isaiah pulled me back into his arms, placing another gentle kiss on my head as he whispered, “You’ve done enough now, beautiful girl. Now, it’s my turn. I’m going to find Q, and when I do, I will tear him apart, limb from limb for what he did to you.” Another gentle kiss, and then he said, “No one will ever hurt you again. You have my word.”
I sniffed, holding back more tears as I said, “I’m sorry I lied to you the other night, when I had the nightmare. The story about the boy in the cupboard was true, but that isn’t what upset me, it was my own filthy mattress and dark cell. And it was his face I saw. Q. He’s the one that haunts my nightmares.”
“He won’t haunt you again. I promise,” Isaiah soothed, cuddling me so tightly, I never wanted him to let go.
“Will you stay with me?” I asked, and he nodded.
“I’ll stay. I’ll hold you until you fall asleep. And I’ll be here all night to watch over you. When you wake up, it’ll be with my arms around you.” He sighed and then added, “And when you wake up, I need to take you somewhere. I have something I need to show you. I think it’s time you learned who I really am, too.”
Chapter Forty-Four
ISAIAH
“Ithink you’re the bravest person I know,” I told her as I held her in my arms and soothed her to sleep.
She shivered, crying silent tears into her pillow as we lay together in the dark, and I wanted to do whatever I could to take the pain away. Her pain was mine to bear too.
“It’s okay. You’re safe now,” I hushed, rocking her gently and willing her to drift off to sleep. I wanted to make her see how tough she’d been, going through what she had and holding it inside for all these years. Using her drive to seek revenge for herself, her friend, and anyone else who’d been hurt, but doing so in a way that, in my opinion, was humane. Far kinder than what they deserved. And all the time she’d kept her secret inside. Never telling her parents, or anyone else. She was a better person than I was, and I felt so fucking protective of her.
I wanted to build a wall around her and never let anyone in. She was my home, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her safe. That included hunting down Q, and making him pay for what he’d done. Tolley had been right. This guy had been pulling the strings all along, and it wasn’t just one children’s home he controlled; it was many. He needed to be taken care of.
I wanted to tell her that she wasn’t alone, and I did, but I couldn’t bring myself to say why. Tonight had been about her story and her chance to talk. My story could wait. Mine was better told in the context of my life, anyway. As in, I wanted to take her to my apartment in the morning, show her the treasures I’d collected over the years, and explain the significance of each one as my story unravelled.
After tomorrow, she might decide that I was on another level to her. That I was a monster who couldn’t be redeemed. But it was a chance worth taking, because I wanted her to know who I was. I couldn’t hide it. Not anymore.
Last night, I had another first with Abigail. I held her until the morning, lying with her without sex even entering my mind. The connection we’d forged through the truths she’d told went far deeper than a sexual one. It was rooted in trust, honesty, and understanding that we were a part of something bigger. Something fundamentally evil and it wasn’t our fault.
I made sure she woke to tender kisses and a gentle embrace. Something I never thought I’d ever be capable of. But with her it was effortless.
We got ready and she seemed a little stronger than she had done the night before. I hoped my presence went some way to achieving that.
“I know I still have a lot of things to sort out. The nightmare isn’t over yet,” she said as she sipped her morning coffee. “But I won’t let the ghosts of the past tie me down anymore. I need to face them.”
“You don’t need to face them alone,” I assured her, standing to fetch her coat and slipping on my shoes. “That’s what I’m here for, to fight them for you.”
“With me,” she corrected. “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”
But I’d been fighting battles all my life. It was all I knew. I couldn’t switch that off.
I drove her across town to my apartment. An apartment that no one else had ever set foot in, only me. I didn’t second guess my decision, but I couldn’t tell how she’d react. My kills were a lot different to hers. My players had gotten the ending they’d deserved. They weren’t victims, they were a blot on the world that had been wiped clean.
We pulled up outside the building I called home. It was in a remote part of town. The buildings surrounding it were mostly derelict, and if you had to describe it, you’d call it urban, edgy, maybe, industrial, definitely, and it suited me perfectly because I could be anonymous here. No one ever ventured out here.
I parked the car outside the front and shut off the engine.
Abigail peered out of the window, exclaiming, “It’s like something from a sci-fi movie. Do you really live here?”
“It’s practical, functional, and yes, I live here. It might not have the comfort some people want, but it has what I want.”
“Which is?”
“Privacy.”
She nodded, and we both opened our doors to step out of the car. I walked around to her side and took her hand as I led her towards the building.
It was a calm day, and as we approached the front door and I took out my keys ready to open my apartment and my whole life to her, I heard an almighty screech of tyres.
I unlocked the door, and she stepped in first. The screech grew louder as I held the door open, shielding her from sight. And then it appeared. A black Mercedes with blacked-out windows shot onto the courtyard, close to where we were parked, and I knew what was about to go down.
Adrenaline coursed through me as a sick feeling of dread turned my insides to stone. I didn’t care what happened to me, but I had to protect her. So I slammed the door shut, turning the key in the lock to keep her in there.
She started to bang on the door, shouting for me to let her out, but I couldn’t. I had to get away from the door and the sound of her voice, because I didn’t want them to know she was here.
I stalked towards the Mercedes as the doors flung open. The rev of the engine drowned out her cries at this distance, and I was thankful. Two men climbed out of the vehicle, both dressed in black suits, wearing masks, and I took out a knife, ready to fight them.
“Nice try,” one of them said, sneering at me as he noticed my weapon.
They charged me, and I swung out, catching one on the arm, slashing through the fabric of his suit to cut him. He grabbed his arm, lifting his hand to reveal blood and cursed me, charging at me again, but I was ready for them.
What I wasn’t ready for was the third man I hadn’t seen get out of the vehicle and come up behind me. And as I felt the stab in my neck and I fell to the floor, the world turning black, all I could think was, thank God they hadn’t found her.
Chapter Forty-Five
ABIGAIL
It all happened so fast. One minute, he was holding my hand and leading me to the front door, he opened it, and then I heard tyres screeching in the distance. As I went to turn around, he pushed me inside and locked the door behind me. I tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t unlock from the inside, and I pounded on the door for him to let me out.
For just a moment, the thought had entered my head that maybe he’d tricked me into coming here. That perhaps I wasn’t safe, and his intentions hadn’t been as pure as I thought. But that thought soon vanished when I peered through the peephole that was fitted into his door as I pounded on it.
I saw the black car speed into view, and then the doors flung open and two men, dressed in dark suits and wearing balaclavas, jumped out. Isaiah was further away now, approaching the car with a knife in his hand, and as they charged forward, he managed to catch one of them with his blade, forcing them back. But he wasn’t going to win this one, and no amount of screaming and shouting from me could help him.
I saw the third man get out of the car and run around to tackle Isaiah from behind. I hollered and slammed my fists on the door to warn him. But it was no use. He grabbed Isaiah, and within seconds, Isaiah was on the floor.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I cried and shouted, pounding on the door as I watched them lift his lifeless body and stuff it into the boot of their car. Then they glanced around and climbed back into the vehicle and drove off at speed.
But not before I’d memorised the registration number, and the make and model of the car.
I repeated the registration number over and over as I took my phone from my pocket. Then I opened my notes app and typed it in so I wouldn’t forget. It was my only hope of tracking him down and saving him.
I kept trying the lock, seeing if I could open the front door, but it wouldn’t budge. So, I spun around and headed down the corridor, opening doors, trying to find another way out of this place. All the windows were barred up, and each room looked more like an office than a home. I’d never seen so many monitors.
With panic rising every second that I searched, I entered another room and recoiled as I stared at a noose hanging from the ceiling. A sickening dread hit me, and I whipped around. I couldn’t look at it. The images it conjured in my brain were so dark, they scared me.
Why the hell did he have something like that?
Did he plan to use it?
Was this what he wanted to show me?
Would he have used that on me?
I felt blind panic at the thought of what it meant, and scenarios began to play in my mind like a sick horror movie.
Focus, Abi. You have to concentrate on getting out of here, I mentally reminded myself, and I stalked out of that room.
Eventually, I found the back door, but that was locked, too, and there wasn’t any glass in the door that I could smash. I was trapped in here, and I had no idea how I was going to escape. Actually, I did have one option. It was my only option. I hated using it, but what other choice did I have?
I took my phone out and pressed the call button. It rang out three times before it was answered.
“Hi, Dad, it’s me. I need your help. I’m going to send you a pin with my location, and I need you to come and get me. But you can’t tell anyone else where you’re going. You have to come alone, and please bring something to break a door down,” I said, stumbling over my words.
“What the hell is going on, Abi?” my dad asked, worry evident in every word he spoke, but I could hear shuffling in the background, like he was mobilising himself into action.
“I can’t tell you over the phone, but please, just trust me. I’m okay, but I need you to come and get me.”
“I’m on my way,” he stated, and I cut the call, sending the pin with my location, and standing at the front door with my arms wrapped around me as I willed him to come faster. What I was going to tell him, I had no idea, but I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.
I looked through the peephole, waiting for him to come, and when his car appeared outside, I started to bang on the door. Dad got out of his car and started to glance around. He didn’t know exactly where I was, and this door was doing too good a job at keeping me hidden, and silencing my noise. But as Dad started to move around and came closer to the door, he heard me.
“Abi,” he called out, pressing his ear against the door to listen. “Is someone in there with you?”
“No. It’s just me,” I shouted, and he stood back, then ran to his car and took out a toolbox from the back.
“Stand back,” he shouted as he came near and got to work, trying to open the door. It was a stubborn lock and took a lot of work on Dad’s part to break it open. But eventually it did, and when he rushed through the door, he grabbed me and held me tight.
“You’re okay, love. I’ve got you,” he said, hugging me tight. “Let’s get you home, and I’ll call this in.”
I gently pushed him away, telling him, “No, Dad. This isn’t what it looks like.”
“Well, it looks like someone imprisoned my daughter, and when I find them, there’ll be hell to pay.” He gritted his teeth, his jaw flexing as he looked me up and down. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice lower now, hesitant at what I might say.
