Part 20 (1/2)

She was disturbed by a sound. Somebody was coming. Leo closed her eyes. If they weren't wearing masks, she didn't want to see them. Whatever their intentions up to now, if they knew she had seen their faces, they would have to kill her.

Leo heard footsteps coming towards her and felt a kick on her thigh, not hard enough to hurt her but to see if she was awake. She lifted her head slowly, keeping her eyes closed. She opened them to slits. His mask was in place. She opened them a fraction more but knew that they would be gla.s.sy with dull whites and dilated pupils.

's.h.i.+t,' the man muttered. He walked away from her and she heard the beep of mobile phone keys being pressed.

'You need to get over here,' he said without introduction. 'The girl's sick. Bring some stuff.' There was a pause. 'I don't f.u.c.king know. You're the doctor.'

That might have been interesting information had Leo not already guessed by the sutures in her arm.

She allowed herself to nod off, wanting to save her energy for when the posh boy's accomplice arrived.

She didn't know how long she had been dozing when she heard voices the two men talking. The first one had been pacing up and down, a sound that had penetrated her light sleep, but she knew she should pretend to still be asleep.

The newcomer crouched down in front of her. She didn't open her eyes, but she could feel his presence, smell a subtle but expensive aftershave and feel his warm breath on her cheek.

'Stop panicking,' he said to the first guy. 'I'll give her some antibiotics and she'll be as right as rain. Not that it makes any difference.'

Leo tried not to react. That didn't make sense. That sounded as if she was going to die, so why treat her?

'How long do we have to keep this up for?'

'Until he's compliant. He has to take his punishment. If he doesn't do as we ask, he knows what's going to happen. It's simple. He's let me down once. Now it's time for retribution. We give him twenty-four hours or we kill his wife.'

45.

It was hard to read Duncan's face. Not because it was grey from lack of decent food and sleep and covered in a thin light-brown beard, but because so many expressions flitted across it in quick succession. The first was horror, the second looked vaguely like relief.

Maggie didn't know how she felt. Breathing seemed difficult, as if a band of steel was being tightened around her chest. Half of her wanted to reach out, hold him close and beg him to explain. The other half wanted to slap him hard across the face, to release some of the pent-up hurt, fear and anger that had been seething through her for the last few days. Once the tears started, though, she wouldn't be able to stop them and she couldn't fall apart yet. Not until she knew if he still loved her.

For a moment she didn't think he was going to let her into the room, and then he stepped back and held the door wide.

Maggie walked into a small room that held not much more than a wardrobe, a hard-looking double bed and a flat-screen TV on the wall. A bedside lamp cast ovoid shadows on the beige walls. She sat down heavily on the bed and stared at her husband, who was leaning against the wall. She had been married to this man for ten years, and at that moment it felt as if she didn't know him at all. Did anybody ever really know anybody else? Neither of them spoke for what seemed like minutes.

'Talk,' Maggie eventually said, setting her face in what she hoped was an a.s.sertive expression.

Duncan shook his head as if it was all a mystery to him.

'I'm sorry, Maggie. I didn't want to leave you. I'm sorry I left the kids alone, but I knew you'd be home soon, and Josh sometimes seems like the most grown-up of all of us. I knew they'd be safe.'

He hadn't known they would be safe. At best, he had hoped they would be safe. She didn't say a word. She didn't want to reveal what she knew. She wanted to see how much of the truth he was going to tell her.

'I had to go. I was putting you all in danger,' Duncan said. He paused and looked down. 'I'd borrowed some money, and not from the right sort of people. They wanted it back. They said they would come to the house. It was best if I left. I didn't do it for me; I did it for you.'

She felt the first stirrings of something like disgust and pushed them away.

'In what way would we have been safer without you there if some men were coming to collect their cash?' she asked.

Duncan looked nonplussed, as well he might. 'It was me they wanted. Not you.'

'No it wasn't. It was their cash they wanted. And I was probably a better bet than you, so what would have kept them away?'

He fell silent, and she waited.

'I don't know what else to tell you,' he said, a look of almost defiance on his face.

Trying to control her anger, Maggie pulled her phone out of her pocket. 'Right. I'm calling the police. They can catch these guys, and that will be the end of it.'

Duncan lunged across the room and grabbed her wrist.

'What the h.e.l.l are you doing, Duncan!' she shouted.

'Don't call the police, Maggie. It's a bit more complicated.'

She waited again, and could see his mind ticking over. He was trying to think of another, slightly more plausible lie; it was written all over his face.

'Duncan, I know a lot more than you realise. I'll know if you're lying to me, so I suggest you don't even start.'

He still didn't speak. He looked at the floor, but she was sure it wasn't shame she was seeing. She could see his eyes were open, staring intently down as if trying to work out what to say next.

'I thought you'd left me for another woman, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d,' she hissed at him.

Duncan lifted his head and looked at her. 'I wouldn't do that, Mags. You know that.'

'I don't know anything. Have you any idea what the last few days have been like for me and the kids?'

He dropped his head again, and Maggie wished she could see his expression. She didn't want him to have time to work out what to say to decide what would cause the least grief or anger.

'Start talking, Duncan. And start at the beginning because I know this is not only about what's happening now. I want to know it all.'

Duncan slid slowly down the wall until he came to rest on the floor, his forearms resting on his raised knees. Maggie waited. She wasn't going to prompt him. Eventually he started to talk without looking at her, staring at the carpet between his feet.

'It started when I was at university.'

'Which university would that be?' Maggie asked, her expression showing nothing.

'You know where I went to university. Leeds,' he responded.

Maggie felt as if somebody had stamped on her chest, and for a moment she thought she might actually stop breathing. He was still lying to her. This man she loved with all her heart was still lying.

'Stop it,' she said. 'Stop the b.l.o.o.d.y lies, Duncan or should I say Michael.' She practically spat out the name and was rewarded with a look of shock on her husband's face. He didn't speak, and she wasn't going to prompt him. The next step was down to him.