‘How’s it going up there?’ asks Zoe, leaning against the hall table and looking up at me. She’s been standing there watching me for several minutes. ‘I hope all this hanging around isn’t getting too boring for you?’ She laughs at her own sadistic joke.
‘You know I sent a copy of those text messages to my own phone,’ I say. I’m grasping at straws now. My feet are tottering on the top of the chair. I look at Zoe, willing her to believe me. ‘I sent them to Seb as well.’
Zoe cocks her head to one side and flicks Alfie’s mobile phone from one hand to the other. ‘Did you now? And I’m supposed to believe that? I can easily check the phone and see what messages have gone out.’
Shit. I hadn’t thought of that. My plan to entice Zoe over to me so I can attempt to free myself isn’t working. If only Mum wasn’t stuck in that bloody traffic jam or I’d taken Seb up on his offer to stay. A tear escapes from my eye and rolls down my face.
‘Oh dear, Carys. Don’t cry,’ says Zoe. ‘You know you could always kick that chair away and it would all be over in a few seconds. You wouldn’t have to hang around for much longer.’ Again, she laughs. ‘Go on, Carys. Do it.’
She pushes herself away from the table and for a moment I think she’s going to either kick the chair away or come close enough for my foot to make contact with her face. I need to kick her hard. On the side of the head. I read somewhere the temple is a weak point. If I can stun her, maybe I can whip this noose off. A few seconds, that’s all I need.
Zoe’s attention is drawn to something outside. She stands in the doorway to the living room and peers around the corner of the door. Is it Mum? Do I try to free myself now or call out to Mum? If there’s no one there and I start shouting, Zoe is bound to put the tape over my mouth again. My moment of indecision costs me. Zoe rushes over to me, but the space between us is still too great a span for my reach.
‘Keep your mouth shut, otherwise, I promise, I’ll pull this chair right out from under you.’ She gives the chair a kick, causing it to wobble. ‘Make a sound and that’s your lot. By the time whoever it is gets in here, you’ll be doing the perfect impersonation of Darren.’
I let out a whimper. ‘Please, Zoe. Stop this now.’
‘Shut the fuck up.’
My left leg begins to shake involuntarily and I struggle to keep my balance. My hands are clasped around the rope above the noose, taking some of the weight from my feet, but my arms are hurting from being above my head and the lack of blood flow is causing my muscles to burn, making it increasingly difficult to maintain this position. My spine is being stretched to full capacity and my shoulder blades are searing with pain.
There’s a rapping of knuckles on the door, followed immediately by three insistent rings of the doorbell, the last held down for several seconds. Through the distorted glass of the door, I can see the indistinct figures of two people.
‘Carys! Are you there? It’s the police.’
An enormous shock wave of relief floods through me. The police are here. They can rescue me. I look down at Zoe. She gives a warning look. I must make the decision now. I don’t have time to dwell on it. I might never get this opportunity again. The police may turn and leave and then what? Zoe will be rattled, but she’ll carry out her plan to make my death look like suicide. I’m not bloody well going to give her the satisfaction.
I close my eyes, tighten my grip on the rope and brace myself before shouting as loud as I possibly can.
‘HELP! HELP ME!’
‘You stupid fucking bitch!’ hisses Zoe, and she pushes the chair away.
She’s not quick enough, I have already committed myself to pushing off as much as I can with my tiptoes and swinging my leg over to the bookcase. The weight of my body is immense and as my feet frantically try to make contact with the bookcase, I realise I won’t be able to hold myself for more than a second or two.
Somewhere in the midst of it all, I am fleetingly aware that Zoe has run towards the kitchen. I’m on my own. No one can save me other than myself.
My toe catches the edge of the bookcase. The rope is digging deeper into my neck and I can feel the power in my arms beginning to fail.
The police officer is banging on the door again. Shouting my name. I try to reply but my airways are being crushed and only a rasping noise comes out. I’ve managed to get a foot on the bookcase, but it’s not enough. I need to try to get my other foot on there and swing my body round. Have I misjudged the length of the rope or, more importantly, my own stamina and body strength? My vision begins to blur, my peripheral vision disappearing as I head down a silent black hole, my arms dropping to my side and my feet slipping from the bookcase.
And then I am weightless. I’m floating.
‘Cut her down, for God’s sake!’
The voice penetrates my thoughts. Suddenly, I’m aware of arms around my body. Holding me up. The pressure is instantly relieved from my throat. I open my eyes but my vision is bleary. And then I am being lifted down. My feet touch the ground, but I have no feeling and cannot hold myself up.
‘Set her down on the floor.’ I think it’s the same voice who was shouting through the door to me. ‘And get that fucking rope off her neck.’
‘Someone radio for an ambulance.’ A female this time.
As the rope is removed from my neck, I feel a rush of air to my lungs. It makes me cough violently as I wheeze for breath and for a moment I wonder if I’m going to choke despite being rescued. The coughing subsides and I take deep breaths, filling my lungs and brain with much-needed oxygen. I put my hand to my neck, which is sore to the touch, and when I withdraw my fingers, the tips feel sticky.
‘Try not to touch your neck,’ says the female officer kneeling beside me. ‘The skin has been broken a little. The paramedics will clean it up when they get here.’
The sound of raised voices and scuffling is coming from the kitchen. I turn my head towards the door. I blink. I must be seeing things. I blink again. No, it’s not my imagination. Zoe is lying face down on the floor and Seb is sitting on top of her, holding her hands while another officer handcuffs her.
‘Zoe Coleman, I am arresting you on suspicion of the attempted murder of Carys Montgomery. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you say may be given in evidence.’ Seb’s voice comes out loud and clear.
I almost cry in relief as I hear Seb arrest Zoe. I cough and roll over on to my side so I can sit up.
The police officer eyes me carefully. ‘You OK?’ she asks. ‘I’m fine. Just need to sit up.’
And then Seb is by my side. He holds me tightly. ‘Thank God we got here in time.’ He inspects my neck and his unchecked wince tells me it must look quite nasty.
‘I’m fine. Honestly.’
Seb helps me to my feet and sits me on the chair. The noose sprawls on the floor next to me. Seb kicks it away with his foot.
He puts a protective arm around me and one of the uniformed officers leads Zoe out of the house and into a police squad car whose arrival was announced by sirens and two-tone blue lights bouncing through the open front door.
‘What made you come back?’ I ask. ‘How did the police know to come here?’
‘It was down to luck,’ says Seb. ‘When I left you earlier, as I came to the junction at the end of your road this bloody hatchback turned in, taking the corner so wide that I had to swerve to avoid hitting them. I didn’t get a chance to see who it was before they sped off down the road. Anyway, I didn’t think any more of it at the time, but when I stopped for coffee I thought I’d give the local nick a call and see what the latest was,’ explains Seb. ‘Turns out they had put out an APB on a blue Fiesta registered to Zoe Coleman. Apparently, there’s been a major development in Joanne’s case and Zoe was to be held for questioning until DCI Chilton got here. He’s on his way now.’
‘I still don’t understand, what made you turn around?’
‘I was rattled. I knew from bumping into Zoe at the hospital with you yesterday that she was shifting the suspicion to you. And what with the Fiesta that nearly took me out, it sent all sorts of alarm bells ringing.’
‘So, you told the police about the near miss in the car?’
‘Yeah. I tried to call you, but your phone was switched off.’
‘Zoe must have done that.’
‘I rang the house phone too, but that just rang and rang.’
‘I didn’t hear anything.’
Seb picks up the house phone and inspects the receiver. ‘It’s on silent, that’s why.’
‘Zoe,’ I mutter.
‘I’m sorry to interrupt.’ We both look up and a paramedic is coming through the door. ‘We need to get you to hospital for a check-up.’
‘I don’t need to go. I’m all right,’ I say.
‘You most certainly do need to go,’ says Seb. ‘Look, I’ve got to go down to the station and hand Zoe over. There’s some paperwork to take care of, but I’ll come and see you as soon as I can. I’m guessing one of the local officers will be along to take an initial statement from you.’
‘I’m becoming an old hand at this statement-giving lark. Unfortunately.’ I let out a sigh.
Seb walks me out to the waiting ambulance. ‘I’ll get hold of your mum too.’
As I climb into the ambulance, I can’t help but wonder what I’ve done to deserve such a loyal and caring man as Seb. If he knew the truth about me, I’m not sure he’d want to hang around. As the doors close and the engine starts, I shut my eyes and play out the possible reactions to Seb finding out the truth. None of them are in my favour.