Obsession (62 page)

She told no one about it, not even Cristos. They’d already
fought
over Luke more than once, since Cristos was of the opinion that she should leave TW, start up her own company and get right away from the man. Corrie had explained about Annalise and Phillip then, admitting to who they really were so that Cristos would understand why she couldn’t just abandon them. She told him nothing of the things Luke had said to her, neither did she tell him about her earlier suspicions of Luke being involved in the prostitutes’ killings. Cristos had enough on his mind trying to complete the movie, and Corrie was determined that she would find a way of handling this without him, since once he had gone she really would be on her own.

It was the day before Cristos was due to fly back to Los Angeles, as Corrie and Jeannie were strolling through Castle Combe together heading for the village post office, that things finally started to draw to a head. The fog had long since been blown away by high winds, which had given Cristos endless continuity nightmares, but somehow they had got through on schedule and now the unit were finishing their last stunt sequence on the weir back in the hotel grounds.

The afternoon was so dull that as the clouds thickened overhead it was as though night were drawing in. Nevertheless Corrie could see the humpback bridge quite clearly from where she was, just as clearly as she could see the lone figure standing on it. Her mind was so full of how she was going to find the courage to handle Cristos’s departure the next day, that it wasn’t until Jeannie held up a postcard to point something out to Corrie, and Corrie looked at it, that she suddenly registered who it was standing on the bridge.

Her head snapped up as she looked ahead again.

‘Something wrong?’ Jeannie said, looking up at her.

Corrie’s eyes were still fixed on the bridge.

‘You in pain or something?’ Jeannie said, putting a hand on Corrie’s arm. ‘Your face is real pale.’

‘No, no, I’m fine,’ Corrie said, still unable to take her eyes from the bridge.

Looking in the same direction, Jeannie said, ‘What is it? Did you see something?’ She chuckled. ‘Like a ghost?’

Corrie’s eyes darted to Jeannie, then forcing herself to smile she said, ‘Let’s turn back now, Jeannie.’

Jeannie shrugged. ‘OK by me. I just want to call in here and post my cards back home. ’Course, I’ll be back before them now, but what the hell … Coming in?’

‘No. No, I’ll wait here,’ Corrie said, once again turning her eyes to the bridge.

While Jeannie was inside the Post Office Corrie found herself moving further down the street, as though the bridge were some kind of magnet she just couldn’t resist. He’d been there, she knew it, she’d seen him with her own eyes, but he’d vanished, like an apparition he’d just melted into thin air. Except he couldn’t have, it just wasn’t possible, so he had to be there somewhere, lurking in the shadows, pressing himself hard into the bushes, or… She swung round, certain she’d heard a footstep behind her, but the street was empty.

She was almost on the bridge now and the air had become so still it was as though even the threatening storm had been paralysed by the atmosphere of menace. A raven suddenly soared up from the river bank, flapping its wings and screeching a raucous cry. Corrie’s heart leapt to her throat, but after drawing back in alarm, she found herself once again inching towards the parapet.

As she peered over the edge all she saw was her own distorted reflection in the rushing current, but he was here, somewhere, she could feel it as acutely as if he were touching her.

‘Corrie!’

She spun round, her hand flying to her heart. ‘Oh, Jeannie!’ she cried, ‘you gave me the fright of my life.’

‘Sorry about that,’ Jeannie shrugged, but looking at Corrie curiously she added, ‘you’re real on edge today …’

‘I know. It’s probably because tomorrow’s coming round so quickly,’ and taking Jeannie’s arm Corrie turned her back up the street towards the Market Cross.

It wasn’t until they were outside the Old Rectory, just before the road started to curve to the left, that Corrie nerved herself to glance back. Still the bridge was empty. But she hadn’t been seeing things, she was certain of that. Luke Fitzpatrick had been standing there on that bridge.

Twenty minutes later Corrie was back in Cristos’s room, trying to sort out what she should wear for the end of shoot party that night when the telephone rang. Even though she’d half been expecting it to, it still made her jump.

Picking up the receiver, and saying nothing herself, Corrie waited for someone to speak. No one did.

‘Luke,’ she said into the silence. ‘Luke, I know it’s you.’ She waited, but the silence just stretched on. ‘Luke!’ she cried. ‘Say something, for God’s sake. I know it’s you. I saw you, do you hear me? Now what do you want?’

Still there was nothing – then suddenly she tensed as she thought she heard him breathe. She was about to speak again, when the voice at the other end said,

‘Stay away from your father, Corrie.’

Corrie plucked the receiver from her ear, looking at it as if it were playing her some kind of trick. Then speaking into it, she said, ‘
What
?’

‘I’m telling you, you be staying away from your father now.’

‘Luke! What are you talking about?’

‘Ask him, Corrie. Ask him who was the last person to be seeing those hookers alive?’

‘For God’s sake, Luke! What are you talking about?’

‘Don’t you be getting into his bed, now, do you hear me? You just be staying away from him.’

‘Luke!’ she screamed, dashing a hand to her head. ‘He’s my father! How the hell can you think …’

‘To be sure, he’s your father. And we don’t want him to be doing to you what he’s been doing to Annalise, now, do we?’

For a moment Corrie felt like she was losing her mind. ‘Luke, you’re not making any sense,’ she cried. ‘What do you mean, what he’s been …’

‘I’ll be here to protect you, Corrie. I’ll be waiting, and you’ll be coming to me soon now … Very soon,’ and the line went dead.

Corrie was in such a state of agitation as she put the phone down that she could hardly begin to think straight. But she must make herself! She had to get a grip on this panic and control it! But for God’s sake what had he meant about Phillip? Why the hell should he think she would go to her own father’s bed? She flinched at the repulsion she felt. But what about the prostitutes? Annalise? What did he mean …?

The telephone was in Corrie’s hand almost before she knew it. ‘Phillip!’ she gasped when he answered. ‘It’s me, Corrie!’

‘What’s the matter?’ he cried, reacting instantly to the distress in her voice. ‘What’s happened?’

‘I’ve heard from Luke. Where’s Annalise?’

‘Octavia’s just taken her home to pick up some more clothes. Corrie, what’s going on? What did he want?’

‘He wanted …’ Should she tell, him? What should she do? But the words were spilling from her mouth almost before she knew it. ‘He wanted me to stay away from you,’ she blurted.

‘
What
!’

‘He told me … Oh God, Phillip … He told me to ask you who was the last person to see the prostitutes alive. Why did he say that? What do you know, Phillip? What is going on?’

‘Oh, Jesus Christ!’ Phillip groaned. ‘I thought it was over. I thought he would leave me alone now. I went to the police, I told them everything I know, but I … Oh, Corrie. This is so difficult to explain down the phone.’

‘Then I’m coming back to London. Now!’

‘No, don’t do that. This is your last night with Cristos, and what I have to tell you can wait. I promise you it can.’

‘Then explain to me why Luke implied that you were doing things to Annalise …’

‘Oh Corrie, I don’t know what’s going on, I swear to you, I don’t, but you’re not the only one who’s heard from him. He was here the other day. I wasn’t going to tell you, I couldn’t it was too … it was too ugly. But he came when Annalise was out with her mother and he accused me … Oh Corrie, I never wanted to tell you this … He accused me of … of sleeping with Annalise. I couldn’t believe what he was saying … I don’t understand it! It’s all lies, Corrie …’

‘Then why is he doing this? You must know, Phillip.’

‘But I don’t! God knows I wish I did.’

Holding a hand to her head Corrie tried to make herself think rationally. Then from nowhere she suddenly remembered Siobhan.

‘Yes, I’ve heard the name,’ Phillip said, ‘but only from Luke. He kept mumbling something about someone called Siobhan when he was here the other day.’

‘But you don’t know who she is?’

‘No. I’d never heard of her until then.’

‘When he came to you the other day, did he tell you where he’d been all this time?’

‘No. But I didn’t ask. Should I have? Yes, yes of course I should. Damn it!’

‘Do you know where he is now?’

‘No. But I can try to find out. I’ll call his home, I’ll go round there …’

Corrie shook her head. ‘No, he’s not there. He’s here. I’ve seen him.’

‘You’ve seen him? I thought you said he’d telephoned you?’

‘Yes he did. After. And he said …’ Her voice trailed off as she started to feel herself become almost mesmerized by the memory of his words … ‘He said that I’d be going to him, very soon.’

Too upset to hear the puzzlement in her voice Phillip shouted, ‘Don’t you go, Corrie! You stay away from him, do you hear me? I’m speaking as your father now, and you’ll do as I say. You stay right there with Cristos and don’t you move. If Fitzpatrick is there in Castle Combe he can’t touch you while you’re with Cristos. Are you listening to me?’

‘Yes, I’m listening,’ Corrie answered. ‘But why is he here?’ she said. ‘Why has he come all this way …’

‘I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. I just want to hear you say that the minute you put this phone down you’re going to go straight to Cristos and you’re going to stay with him until he leaves tomorrow – when I shall be at the airport to bring you back into London myself.’

‘OK, I’ll do that,’ Corrie said, smiling at his near panic-stricken concern. He really did care about her, and just like a father he was giving her orders. It was something she could get used to, she was thinking, as she said a very warm goodbye. Nevertheless, she wasn’t going to be taken in that easily, there had to be something behind what Luke had said about Phillip, and she wanted to find out from Luke exactly what it was. And if Luke was right here in Castle Combe …

But Luke wasn’t in Castle Combe, at least not anymore he wasn’t, and in less than four hours, when Corrie learned precisely where he was, she was on the very next train to London, forfeiting her last night with Cristos to spend it with Luke.

The call had come just after eight o’clock, while Cristos was closeted with the actors discussing the extra shots he wanted to do the next morning before they packed up and left for the airport. Corrie was in the bar with Jeannie and several others, glancing nervously over her shoulder every time someone walked in, not really believing Luke would come to the hotel, but half-afraid that he would. Still, she felt safe with Cristos so nearby, so what was there to worry about?

‘You’re starting to make me dizzy,’ Jeannie complained, as Corrie’s head spun to the door again. ‘He’ll be through with Winters any time now…’ She stopped as she heard Corrie’s name.

‘There’s a personal telephone call for you,’ the hotel manager said, ‘would you like to take it in reception – there’s no one there at present?’

‘Thank you,’ Corrie said, getting up to follow him out of the bar. It could be Phillip or Annalise trying to get hold of her. And if it was Luke …? Well, she’d just see what he had to say this time.

It turned out to be none of them, and Corrie could hardly believe her ears as the woman’s voice at the other end of the line, after confirming that she was speaking to Corrie Browne, told her that she was ringing from Charing Cross Hospital in London where they had just admitted Luke Fitzpatrick.

‘He’s asking for you,’ the woman told her in a tone that couldn’t be described as anything other than funereal. ‘I think you should come. And without wishing to alarm you, I think you should get here as soon as you can.’

‘But what’s happened?’ Corrie cried.

‘I think it’s better if I explain when you get here,’ the woman answered. ‘But you should be aware that his injuries are serious … That he’s in a critical condition …’

‘What do you mean? What kind of injuries?’

She heard the woman give a gentle sigh as she seemed
to
twitter at the end of the line. ‘I’m afraid they were self-inflicted,’ she finally answered.

‘You mean … Are you saying …?’

‘Yes, I think you understand what I’m saying,’ the woman interrupted. ‘He’s lost a lot of blood … The doctor’s with him now … We’re very much afraid, Miss Browne, that he may not see morning.’

Corrie could feel herself shaking. This was the very last thing she’d expected …

She put the phone down gazing distractedly about the room as she tried to decide what to do next. She was on the point of running upstairs to pack when in a blinding flash it suddenly occurred to her that this might be a trick. Turning back to the receptionist, who had come out of the office once Corrie had finished on the phone, Corrie rapidly gave her a list of instructions then ran up to Cristos’s room getting there just as the receptionist was putting through the call Corrie had asked for. Corrie felt wretched doing this, especially when she heard a voice answering the phone with,

‘Good evening, Charing Cross Hospital.’

And she felt even worse when a few minutes later she had it confirmed that Luke Fitzpatrick had indeed been admitted that night. But she’d had to check, she told herself firmly, because he was quite capable of pulling a stunt as sick as this.

Hastily she scribbled a note for Cristos, threw her things into a bag and ran back downstairs to the bar, grabbing the times of the trains from the receptionist’s outstretched hand as she passed.

Jeannie drove her to the station at breakneck speed, getting her there just in the nick of time.

The journey, Corrie knew, was going to take an eternity, and that she should be starting out with a dilemma as to whether or not she should ring Phillip did not bode well for the state of mind she would arrive in. In the end, if
only
to dispense with the problem, she decided she should ring her father.