The Drowning Tide (Blair Dubh Trilogy #2) (22 page)

“Course it will. The wind will only be affecting Blair Dubh, like it always does.”

“The trouble might follow us there.”

“You don’t seriously believe Doggett’s talk about evil, do you?”

“Going off past experience, yes.”

“He’s full of shit.”

“I don’t think he is. He understands.”

“He’s a weirdo and his weird talk has put these ideas in your head. Mad Mandy will be rounded up soon and everything will be fine. There’s no evil waiting to get you.”

“Look at the weather Craig.”

“It’s just weather. This is Lizzy’s fault too talking about Black Blair and curses. I’m a police officer, I’ve seen a lot of evil up close and it’s all one hundred percent human, trust me.”

In the cold light of day it did seem a bit ridiculous. “You’re probably right.”

“The weather has always been temperamental here, you know that. This wind would have kicked up whether we’d come here or not. Now come back to bed. We need to start relaxing and enjoying our holiday,” he said, kissing her neck.

“Craig, someone might see,” she said when he pushed her up against the window. It was lucky she was wearing a black t-shirt.

“There’s no one out there, look,” he said, gesturing to the window. He glanced out and his face fell. “Son of a bitch.”

“What?”

“Doggett.”

Freya turned to see Graeme standing beneath their window, staring up at them.

“It’s only five o’clock. What’s he doing?” said Freya.

“Being a fucking freak,” said Craig, releasing her and pulling on a t-shirt and jeans.

“You’re not going out there, are you?”

“Course I am. I’m not letting him get away with that.”

“He might just have been taking an innocent walk,” she said, pulling on her own clothes and hurrying after him down the stairs. “Please Craig, leave it,” she called, but he was already out the front door, letting in a huge gust of wind.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, staring up at our window?” demanded Craig, shoving the man in the chest.

Graeme stumbled backwards, just managing to remain on his feet. “I wasn’t staring. I was only making sure Freya was okay.”

“You’re a fucking pervert,” Craig yelled over the wind, pushing him again.

“Craig, stop it,” cried Freya, running out after him and putting herself between them. She pressed her hands to her husband’s chest and attempted to push him backwards but he was immovable.

“I’ve had enough of this creep,” Craig yelled, jabbing a digit at Graeme. “He corners you in the church just when your parent’s graves are dug up, he stares at you in the pub and now he’s here, having a good nosy at our bedroom window.”

Graeme didn’t reply. Instead he stood stock still, seething.

“Please Craig, leave him alone.”

Craig looked down at her, his dark eyes hard. “Why are you so scared of him?”

Freya’s mouth open and closed soundlessly, not sure how to reply without sounding insane.

“Craig, what are you doing?” demanded Nora, rushing out of the house wrapped in her dressing gown, hair in curlers. “Stop brawling in the street like a common thug. Get inside now.”

“This perv was watching us through the bedroom window,” retorted Craig, eyes never leaving Graeme, whose dark gaze was becoming more ferocious by the second.

“How did he do that? You were on the first floor,” she replied.

“We were at the window and he was standing there, watching.”

“What were you doing at the window?”

“What’s this about?” called a voice.

Freya was delighted to see Bill marching up the street, his black and white collie dog at his heels. She rushed up to him. “They’re going to fight. You have to stop them.”

She moved out of the way so Bill could put his bulk between the two men, who had begun shoving each other again, the dog running between their legs, barking and tail wagging. “Now calm down the pair of you, this is ridiculous,” he said.

The three of them started to bicker, hardly able to hear each other over the noise the dog was making.

“Stop staring at her,” exploded Craig when Graeme’s watery gaze settled on Freya again.

He and Graeme lunged at each other and started to fight, the latter putting up a surprisingly good struggle even though physically he was slighter. Bill tried to pull them apart but they were too determined and the fight continued, the dog interspersing its barks with growls.

“Craig, I said stop that,” screeched Nora, slapping him hard on the back, but he didn’t even notice.

Freya retreated a few steps to avoid getting caught up in the scrap. Roused by the noise more residents were coming out of their homes in their nightwear, some of the men running over to help break it up. She sighed and shook her head, really angry with Craig. This so-called holiday was getting worse.

A sharp pain shot through her lower back, making her wince. With a frown she reached under her jumper and felt something wet. When she took her fingertips away they were stained with blood. Freya stared at the sticky mess with a puzzled frown.

Bill had pulled Craig and Graeme apart, holding Craig in a bear hug while Jimmy and Gordon restrained Graeme.

“Craig,” murmured Freya, holding up her fingers, feeling her knees go weak and her head start to spin.

They all turned to look at her.

“Freya?” said Craig, his face falling.

She was saved from falling by someone grabbing her by the neck and pressing a knife to her throat.

CHAPTER 23

“Freya,” yelled Craig, breaking into a run.

“Stay back or I’ll cut her,” screeched Mandy.

Craig skidded to a halt, face white as a sheet while Nora let out a scream.

“Let her go right now you stupid awful woman,” cried Nora, eyes filling with tears.

“Shut it you old hag. I knew you’d like her more than me. You never did have any taste.”

“You sick, evil, twisted cow. Put the knife down.”

“Mum, calm down,” Craig told her. “Everyone just stay back, don’t crowd them.”

They all did as they were told, deciding he was the most qualified to handle the situation.

“Mandy please, put the knife down. This isn’t the way,” he said reasonably, his voice almost drowned out by the dog.

“I’m doing it for you baby. She’s cast her spell on you. I have to set you free.”

“Put the knife down then we can talk, I promise.”

“No. She has to die or you’ll never see what she really is. You’ll never realise that it’s me you truly love.” Annoyance filled her eyes and her head twitched unnaturally. “Will someone shut that fucking dog up?”

“Jessie, come here,” ordered Bill.

Obediently the dog went to sit beside her owner and ceased barking when he petted her head.

“That’s better,” breathed Mandy.

“So that’s what this is about,” replied Craig, desperately trying to keep his voice calm and reasonable when all he wanted to do was tear the bitch apart. The sight of that blade against Freya’s throat was more than he could bear. “I…I never stopped loving you Mandy,” he said, having to force the words out. “But if you hurt her we’ll never be together, they’ll lock you up and I couldn’t stand that.”

She shook her head, eyes filling with tears. “You don’t mean that. You’re only saying it to stop me hurting her.”

“No Mandy, I do mean it. How could I not? You’re so beautiful.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

She’d smiled then, telling Craig pandering to her vanity was the right way to go. Feeling more confident he took another couple of steps forward, focusing on the knife, relieved when it wasn’t pressed any harder against Freya’s throat. “Yes you are, the most beautiful woman I ever saw. I think about you a lot,” he said, the words choking him.

“I think about you too Craig, all the time. I can’t stop thinking about you, you’re always here,” she said, repeatedly slapping the side of her head with her palm. “I can’t get you out. I have to get you back, I have to.”

“And we can be together again,” he said, daring to close in another couple of steps. “But you have to put the knife down first. If you don’t you’ll be arrested and you’ll be taken from me forever.”

Hope soared within Mandy, he looked so earnest, but she was still a little mistrustful. “I’ll put the knife down on one condition.”

“Anything,” he replied, trying not to sound too relieved.

“You have to say Freya’s ugly.”

Craig exhaled noisily, wanting to rip her head off. His anger was threatening to get the better of him but he couldn’t let it. If he did Freya would die. He glanced at her. She looked pale and scared but defiant too. She was furious. When their eyes met she gave him a long slow blink, telling him what he must do.

“She’s ugly,” he mumbled.

“What? I can’t hear you over this wind,” shrieked Mandy.

“I said she’s ugly,” he retorted.

Her smile of triumph made his stomach turn.

“Why is she ugly?”

“Because…because…” His mind went blank. To him Freya was perfection, sexy as hell and he was stuck for an answer, but his wife’s life depended on his reply. He decided to think about this from Mandy’s point of view and tell her what she wanted to hear. “I hate all the black, it’s morbid and does nothing for her,” he said, voice coming out shaky. He glanced at Freya, whose face had gone impassive. He could only imagine how humiliating this was for her and she was resorting to her old street tactics of suppressing all emotion.

“And she’s fat, isn’t she, with those horrible big tits,” said Mandy.

Craig ground his teeth together. What he wanted to reply was that he thought Mandy was the ugly one with her ironing board body and invisible breasts. “Yes,” he said, spitting the word out.

Graeme watched the mad woman with the knife pressed to Freya’s throat and was almost overcome with frustration. If only he had his trusty little friend with him he could have taken her head off but that was carefully hidden away back at his cottage. He knew everything Freya had endured in her young life and it broke his heart what she was being put through now by her husband’s jealous ex. It was so wrong. He was furious at the man, he shouldn’t have allowed things to degenerate to this. She deserved better than him.

Craig took another couple of steps closer, his eyes constantly flitting between Mandy and the knife. He couldn’t look at Freya, she would distract him too much, he couldn’t allow emotion to get the better of him. Just another few steps and he’d be within striking distance. He could pull the knife from Freya’s neck and drag her to safety.

“You want to be with me, don’t you Craig? You wish it was me you married?” continued Mandy desperately.

“Yes,” he said in what he hoped was a tender manner. “I want you and only you. I never should have let you go in the first place, I must have been mad. Freya turned my head but you’ve brought me back to my senses.” Another step forward. His heart hammered so hard it made him feel light-headed. He wasn’t sure if the roar in his ears was the wind or the blood thundering around his body. “I love you Mandy. Let’s get back together.”

When Mandy’s lips twisted into a smile Craig realised his error. In Mandy’s head in order for that to happen Freya had to be gone. By uttering those words he’d just signed her death warrant.

“No,” he cried, lunging forwards.

When Freya felt the pressure on her neck increase as Mandy prepared to cut she threw herself backwards. Mandy moved slightly to the side, avoiding being pushed over but it knocked her off balance. Freya brought up her right arm and pushed the hand holding the knife away from her neck while driving her left elbow into Mandy’s ribs. She was satisfied to hear Mandy release a cry as she tripped backwards and Freya spun round, drawing back her fist. The satisfaction was indescribable when she connected with Mandy’s face, knocking the woman onto her backside.

“Not my face, my beautiful face,” she screeched.

Freya straddled her and slammed her fist into her face again and again, grinning as blood spurted from her nose. Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her back while Bill and Jimmy rushed to pin Mandy down.

“Get off,” Freya shrieked, struggling to get at Mandy again.

Craig’s firm hands cradled her face, forcing her to look at him. “Are you alright?”

“She stabbed me in the back.”

Gently he raised her hoodie and sighed with relief. “Just a flesh wound, like she did to me.” He kissed her hard. “I love you, I didn’t mean any of that, I just said it so she’d let you go.”

“It’s alright, I know,” she said, starting to violently shake.

He held her tight, pressing his cheek to her hair, shaking badly too. “Thank God, thank God,” he whispered, on the verge of tears. He couldn’t believe how close he’d come to losing her.

“You mad bitch, I’ll kill you,” screamed Nora, slapping Mandy hard across the face, who had been dragged to her feet and was being held by Bill and Jimmy.

“Mum, take it easy,” said Craig.

Nora’s lower lip trembled then she burst into tears. She pushed Craig out of the way and enveloped Freya in her arms. The two women clung onto each other and it was unclear who was comforting who.

“Lizzy, get over here,” called Nora.

Lizzy bustled up to them, similarly in her dressing gown and slippers. “Freya are you hurt?”

“Her back was cut, like my stomach was,” he said.

“Come across the road and I’ll patch you up.”

They all turned to look as the wail of a siren filled the air and two police cars shot down the street, lights flashing, followed by an ambulance then Gordon in his car.

The convoy rolled to a halt and Gordon jumped out. “I fetched them,” he said. “Is everyone okay?”

“Sort of,” replied a weary Nora. “Why didn’t you just use the phone?”

“A pylon was blown over last night, they’re all knocked out. My mobile wouldn’t work either. I had to drive to the station at West Kilbride. The phone lines won’t be back up until tomorrow at the earliest.”

Steve and Gary jumped out of the police car, followed by Hughes.

“Oh great, it’s the fud,” muttered Craig.

“What’s this about? Who’s she? What has she done?” said Hughes in his pompous way.

Craig ignored him and spoke to Gary and Steve. “This is Mandy, my ex. She stabbed Freya and held a knife to her throat. Get her the fuck out of my sight.”

“Craig, you don’t mean that. You want me, I know you do,” shrieked Mandy.

“No I don’t. I only said those things so you’d let Freya go. I hate you. I hope they lock you up and you never see the light of day again.”

“It’s a fine line between love and hate,” she winked.

“There’s no love for you Mandy. All the love I’ve got is for Freya. By the way, I never liked your skinny body and flat chest. You look like a Twiglet.”

“Craig,” she yelled as he walked away with his arm around Freya. “Craig, look at me.”

He ignored her, stopping Steve and Gary when they moved to restrain her. “She’ll try and use her charms on you. Don’t fall for it. She’s dangerous.”

“You can trust us,” replied Steve.

Craig nodded. “I know I can. Call DS Muir at Glasgow West End. He knows all about her.”

“Will do.”

“Freya, you okay?” said Gary with concern.

“I will be,” she replied, still shaking.

Gary planted a kiss on her forehead before pulling the cuffs from his belt and approaching Mandy with a grim look.

Mandy tilted her head determinedly. “You are not putting those on me.”

“Want a bet?” he growled.

Craig steered Freya to the ambulance and helped her inside.

“Which hospital are you taking her to?” said Nora.

“I’m not going to hospital,” replied Freya.

“You’ve been stabbed,” said Craig.

“You didn’t need to go so neither do I.”

“You don’t know that yet. Let the paramedic take a look.”

“Fine,” she sighed, staring into space while she was examined.

“Just a shallow cut,” explained one of the paramedics. “I’ll apply a dressing but it could do with some stitches. It might be best if you did go to hospital.”

“I’m not going.”

“Freya, don’t be so stubborn,” said Craig.

“I said I’m not going,” she yelled. “Stop nagging.”

He held up his hands and they sat in silence while the paramedic dressed the wound.

“Right, all done, but I would like to take you to hospital,” said the paramedic, made distinctly uncomfortable by the awkward atmosphere.

“Thank you but no,” she replied, coolly polite. With that she got to her feet and Craig helped her down. They watched as Steve and Gary wrestled Mandy into the back of their patrol car, Hughes being careful to keep well out of reach of her sharp nails, barking useless orders at the two constables, which they ignored.

The villagers surrounded Freya, ignoring the two officers who were trying to interview the witnesses, asking if she was okay. Freya found she didn’t have the energy to reply so she just stared back at them. When Graeme stormed up to Craig she sighed, hoping there was no more violence but determined to walk away if there was and leave them to it.

“I knew you weren’t up to protecting her. That was your fault,” he spat at Craig.

Rather than the expected anger Craig just hung his head and nodded. “You’re right. It is my fault.”

“Oh,” said Graeme, disappointed he wasn’t going to get to continue the fight.

“Come on love, get into the house before you fall down,” said Nora, taking Freya’s hand and leading her back inside the cottage.

Before he could follow Graeme blocked Craig’s path. “You don’t deserve her. You’re contaminated with the Blair Dubh evil. All you’ll ever bring her is misery and death.”

“Leave it Doggett,” Bill growled in warning. “Go home, you’re not helping.”

Graeme shook his head in disgust before walking away.

“Ignore that prick,” Bill told Craig. “He’s not all there.”

Craig just nodded, feeling drained and a little sad. What if Doggett was right?

He swallowed hard when he walked into his mum’s house. Freya was curled back up on the couch, shaking again. He couldn’t blame her for wanting a drink after an experience like that, anyone would. He craved a dram himself but that wouldn’t be fair. She didn’t react when he put an arm around her shoulders, continuing to stare straight ahead with an empty gaze.

“I think it’s safe to say she was the one who desecrated your mum and dad’s graves,” said Nora.