Live to Tell (32 page)

I had never driven Barry’s van before and knew I would look suspicious if I wasn’t careful. Gear crashing at night in a built-up area would definitely draw attention to someone trying to evade the police. I knew I had to keep to the speed limit, despite the urge to go as fast as possible. This was in case somehow the creature wrapped up in the rear came back to life to attack me again. Aside from this fear, I felt no remorse at all. I didn’t think of him as a man who might have a family or friends. To me he was a monster who thought nothing of inflicting terror and pain on his victims.

I drove up the broad, northbound carriage-way of the road I only knew as the A41. Suddenly I saw a sign ahead for the North Circular Road. That’s it. That’s where I must go. That’s the way to Essex. They have woodland in Essex. I knew I could never make it to Hertfordshire where I grew up. Even though it was nearer and abounded in woodland, it was just too close to home.

The North Circular Road that formed an east-west beltway across North London was almost deserted. It stretched away from me into the night as I cruised along, hoping there was enough petrol in the van to keep me going. Then I saw something ahead that took my breath away. A massive roadside hoarding loomed in the distance. Incongruous in its suburban setting it pointed the way to a place called Gallows Corner. Was this a prophetic sign of the retribution coming? I can’t go there, I thought. I must get off this road. Suddenly a police siren and a blue flashing light were roaring up behind me, but ignoring me they shot by. Farther on there was another sign this time for Epping Forest. I headed to it with relief.

The A104 Woodford New Road that I drove along was peaceful and quiet. After a mile, it became High Road, Woodford Green and then Epping New Road, a rural idyll that no doubt I was about to despoil. I drove past several old inns that at any other time would have seemed most welcoming but tonight they were to be shunned. Half-a-mile farther tall, wooded glades stretched on either side of the road. Seeing a turn off for ramblers and dog-walkers, I slowed down and entered it.

Carefully I drove down a rutted rough track overhung by branches. I came to a shallow ditch half covered by brambles and there I stopped. In the moonlight motionless in the still air, the trees around me formed a petrified canopy. This will do, I thought, anxious to get my task over. My heart was pounding. I looked about me and listened, but I was totally alone.

I opened the van’s rear doors and tugged at the plastic. With a slither my load slipped out onto the track and I dragged it to the edge of the ditch. I tipped it over and watched it disappear beneath the undergrowth.

I paused for a second. Should I have emptied his pockets? Too late now. No! I couldn’t bear to touch the man’s body and was sure it would be identified easily enough with or without credit cards. Also, anything left behind with me would have to be disposed of, and might eventually link me to him. And I certainly didn’t want any gruesome souvenirs.

I drove home and by the end of the journey felt so weary I really wanted sleep, but I knew that before I could relax I had to remove any traces of the collector from my home and from the van. Back in the mews all was silent. Quietly I slipped inside my house. The van would have to wait till daylight but I could start to clean up inside the building straight away.

More than an hour later I had scrubbed the walls and the rest of the polythene but I had a dilemma. Although dawn was breaking, in the artificial light within the room I couldn’t tell if the carpet was clean or not. I’ll take a shower first, I thought, then look at it again. I tipped my clothes and shoes into a plastic sack and tied it up. Had this night really happened? I was finding it hard to hang on to the truth but one sight of the purple bruises on my body provided all the evidence I needed.

Freshly showered I put on a clean pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, which I tucked into the waistband. Now I had to tackle the van. Strangely, I didn’t think the task would prove too hard.

I opened the van doors again. Was it my imagination? A really unpleasant odour wafted towards me yet the floor seemed free of blood. Instead, it was actually covered with paint dust. Best to leave the doors open for a bit; let the air circulate in here, I thought. That should be enough.

I went back into the house and now my worst fears were realised. In the bright early morning light not only the carpet but the walls still bore traces of blood and mayhem. All my work had been in vain. The evidence was there for all to see. My own inadequacy mocked me. Patches of old dirt encircled the portions of the walls that I had tried to clean. Tiny bloody marks dotted the carpet. It was unmistakable. What more could I do?

I prised the lid off one of the large tins of white paint left behind the night before and hurled its contents at the wall and floor.

A noise roused me. “What, ugh?” I lifted my head. My neck was aching. Every bone was aching. He was back to attack me again and I had to get up from my position on the floor.

But it was no spectre. Barry stood there, a set of keys in his hand. Thank God, someone decent I could trust. I sank back against the wall.

“Oh, it’s you,” I said. “What time is it? I must have fallen asleep.” I yawned. “Have I been here all night?”

He looked at me then beyond me at the empty paint pot and rolled his eyes. “What the bloody ’ell’s happened here? Do you know the van’s wide open?”

I was sure if I tried to explain anything or to have a normal conversation with him I would either descend into hysterical screaming or blurt out the whole story. Being woken unexpectedly had thrown me off balance and I had to stay clear headed and focused. It was difficult.

“I’m sorry Barry about the paint. I don’t know how it happened. I only tried to move it. Please add it to the bill.”

He mumbled something that I couldn’t hear and pursed his lips and scratched his head. Then he noticed the hole in the carpet. I had cut away the part worst affected by the paint and stuffed it in another plastic sack. Both sacks were now safely in the boot of my car.

“I was planning to replace the carpet anyway. I just thought I could get rid of most of the paint if I cut away that part,” I said, wishing I hadn’t left the mallet in plain sight close by. I had scrubbed it without mercy and it now stood innocently beside the paint tray. I hoped he wouldn’t notice it or that one of his sheets was missing, as well.

“I’ve got to go away for a few days with my work. Something’s come up.” I trailed off. “At the last moment.” I stood up stiffly and almost fell over.

He leaped forward and helped me into the kitchen and onto a chair. “Ere, I’ll put the kettle on. You look like you could do with some tea.”

“Thank you.” Behind his back, I slipped out of the room again went upstairs and into my bedroom. I rifled through my wardrobe and grabbed a few clothes at random and stuffed them into a bag. Then I paused. I picked up my beautiful photograph of Danny and gazed at it. How could I leave without this? Behind me, Barry stood at the open door and cleared his throat.

“You know, it’s not for me to say. But broodin’ like this about your ex… Well, it don’t get you anywhere, does it?”

I clutched the photograph to my chest before carefully placing it in the bag.

“He isn’t my ex,” I said. “This is my late husband.” I wanted to add, he was only twenty-five when he died and I loved him, but it seemed superfluous.

“Got the tea ready. It’s downstairs.”

We sat opposite each other over the kitchen table and I noticed he kept giving me strange furtive glances. Then I realised that I wasn’t wearing a bra under the white t-shirt. Oh, damn. I had meant to change into an office outfit before anyone arrived that morning, but hadn’t bargained on falling asleep. Worried that the biggest bruise might show through the plain material I tugged at it. I struggled to think of something to say to divert his attention.

“As I’m going to be away a few days and you might be finished before I’m here again, can I pay you now?” I reached for my bag and chequebook.

“Nah, I’ll put the bill in and you can pay me when you get back. Where are you going?”

“Peterborough,” I said. “It’s er, north—up the A1.” I had never been there but it was the first place that came to mind. Because I didn’t know the town, somehow it seemed farther away. Where I really ought to be going is to the nearest hospital, I thought, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my side. “But if anybody rings for me, even my dad, could you say you don’t know where I’ve gone? Please?”

“I know where it is. Look, are you in some kind of trouble?” He looked around the room. “Do you need my help?”

I didn’t answer him. It was almost tempting but I knew even Barry’s skills would be stretched to get me out of this mess. I couldn’t ask him to break the law for me and I knew that if I told him about the collector, he would have to call the police. The more time passed since I killed the man, the worse everything would appear. As it was, I was concerned that somehow his van might have been seen in the vicinity of the “drop” and he might be dragged into the fray. My only chance was to brazen everything out and hope nothing would lead them to my door. I shook my head.

“More tea, then?”

I nodded. Strong coffee was probably better but tea was okay. I wanted to stay under his protection as long as possible but knew I had to leave, if I didn’t faint first. Already I was losing time. It was only eight o’clock but I should be on the road. Then the thought crossed my mind that he had probably been with his married girlfriend half-an-hour earlier. Given my present nervous condition and his obvious desire to comfort me, we were in a dangerous situation that I mustn’t compound by undressing, even behind a closed door. It seemed an insult to him to change in a locked bathroom, but that was the only other option available, especially as I couldn’t risk him seeing my bruises. I can’t change my clothes here, I thought as he prepared my drink. I’ll just have to leave as I am.

He held the mug out for me but even reaching for it hurt my ribs. I tried to smile.

“Everything’s good. Really. Can you pass me that box please?”

I indicated a pack of painkillers on the work top beside the kettle. He passed them over and I swallowed four of the pills. He rolled his eyes again.

“I’ve got a big job starting in Brondesbury,” he said, “a couple of miles up the road. It’s just past Kilburn.”

I nodded.

“And, er, what I mean is, well, I won’t be parking the van outside ’ere anymore.”

“Fine okay.”

At that moment there was an urgent knocking at my front door. At the noise, my mouth went dry. I gripped the table top and stared at him. An age seemed to pass and then Barry got up and walked to the door. I sat still, unable to move.

“Hello Mrs J. How ya doing? How’s yer roof? No more trouble?”

I didn’t hear her response but she must have pushed past him to get to me in the kitchen. Her diminutive frame padded into the room. “Are you alright, Dear? I’ve been worried about you. I heard a noise in the night and hoped you were not in any trouble. I nearly called the police but thought better of it. Didn’t want to seem silly.”

“I’m fine, really. I dropped something and you know how loud things seem at night. It was nothing really.” I smiled at her but behind her Barry gave me a long hard look.

“I’m afraid I’m running a bit late. Got to get to work; but thanks for enquiring. It’s kind of you. I’m driving North in a few minutes otherwise I’d offer you something.”

“Well, if you’re sure?” She didn’t appear convinced by my excuse but I couldn’t face any more lies and small talk although it was nice to be cared about by these two people. Nice but inconvenient.

Barry showed her out and sat down again opposite and stared at me over his tea. Knowing I may never see him again was both strange and depressing. I stood up and with an effort walked around the table my back, arms, legs and neck all aching. I tried to move normally but could tell by his expression he wasn’t fooled. I just wanted to curl up on his lap, put my arms around his neck and stay there.

I walked past him. On impulse, I reached over and kissed him gently on the side of his face. He looked surprised.

“If you want any more of that,” he said, “ring me when you get back.”

“You know Barry, sometimes things aren’t always as they seem.”

I left him sitting there and walked outside to my car.

CHAPTER ELEVEN