Page 19 of She Saw What He Did

Jared falters on the top step.

‘Jared are you okay?’ I ask anxiously.

Stay calm, I tell myself. You have to be the calm one.

‘I’m … okay,’ he says, but his voice is barely audible. He’s used all his energy. I should never have agreed to come up here.

‘Is there a phone?’ I ask.

I don’t think he hears me. I want to push past him. He clears the final step and I hobble up. It’s a tiny room. There’s an old fire extinguisher, some used paint tins and a folding chair. Yes, there’s a phone. Oh, thank God. I grab the receiver and hold it to my ear.

‘Is it working?’ Jared asks.

It’s as though the life ebbs out of me. The phone line is dead. I click it several times and stupidly shout ‘Hello,’ into the mouthpiece.

‘There’s nothing,’ I say, sliding to the floor. Jared lowers himself beside me.

‘I need time to rest,’ he says, his eyelids drooping. ‘Then I’ll decide what to do.’

‘No, Jared,’ I shout. ‘You can’t sleep.’

*

The lighthouse seemed miles away. He was tired and stressed.

‘Jesus,’ he muttered, feeling his muscles ache. He deserved fifty thousand and more for all he’d been through. Thunder rumbled in the background. He’d be relieved when it rained. It was humid and oppressive. What he wouldn’t do for a cold beer and his bed. He reached the foot of the lighthouse and stood panting. His hand curled around the cold metal of the sawn-off shotgun. He’d get that fucking box once and for all, he vowed. He’d not give up now. He’d come too far. He stepped forward towards the lighthouse door and turned the doorknob. The door wouldn’t open. He pushed his body hard against it. The bastards had barricaded themselves in, he thought angrily. He moved back, preparing himself for another push. His foot collided with the step sending him reeling backwards.

‘Fuck,’ he muttered.

The gun fell from his hand and landed with a thud to the ground.

*

Abby

It’s dusk and the light is fading. I have goosebumps on my arms where the lighthouse has grown cooler. The last rays of sunlight cast eerie shadows on the wall. I’ve no idea how long we’ve been here. I only know that the pain in my ankle is sending waves of nausea through me. Thunder rumbles in the distance and then I hear a thud. It could have been the breeze, but I doubt it. I curse my weak, stupid body for letting me down. There’s a strange scuttling sound. I stiffen and strain my ears. There it is again. I feel the hair lift on the nape of my neck. It takes a few moments for my brain to galvanise into action and then the full horror of the past few hours hits me all over again. Jared’s rasping breath brings fresh tears to my eyes. How can this be happening to us? Perspiration had seeped through the thin fabric of my dress and it clings uncomfortably to my body. There’s the sound of rustling again and panic chills my damp skin. Is the killer close? Jared moans softly and I cover his mouth with my clammy hand.

The sound of breaking waves comforts me. I clasp Jared’s hand in mine and lean shakily towards him.

‘We’ve got to make a run for it,’ I whisper. ‘We can’t stay here any longer. It will be dark soon. This is our only chance.’

I know, even as I’m saying it, that we’ll never manage the climb down.

His hand tightens around mine. I feel the pressure of his wedding band against my finger.

‘I don’t think … You go.’

His breathing is heavy and laboured and I feel totally helpless.

‘I’m not going without you,’ I sob. ‘I won’t leave you.’

He squeezes my hand.

‘You have to.’

It’s then I hear it again, the scuttling sound. He’s here at the lighthouse. My lips are cracked and dry and my throat feels as though it is closing up. We have no water left. A whisper of fear runs through me. He’s found us. There is nowhere else for us to go. He will never let me reach the boat. This is the end. I hang onto Jared’s hand. Then I see it. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? I reach across to the camera and press the shutter. The flash still works. What battery I have left has charged up the flash.

My first attempt to stand is useless and I fall to the ground like a new born calf. The man must have heard me. By the third attempt, I make it. Adrenalin courses through my veins giving me renewed energy and I hobble to the window, barely feeling the pain in my foot. The sun is low over St Cecilia’s and I hold the camera towards it. I click the shutter several times and pray someone will see the flash.

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