20. Mel
What could she possibly do?
She explored the wing of the farmhouse they’d been allocated, searching for any way out, anything that could be used as a weapon.
But seriously... a weapon against a man-mountain like Wayne, who was just looking for any excuse to beat the crap out of her, rape her, punish her...?
And escape... They were only one floor up, but it was an old building, the ceilings high. The drop from any of the windows she could actually open was high enough, and the ground beneath so uneven, that she was sure she would break an ankle if she jumped. There were bed sheets they could use as ropes, but how did that really work? How did you tie a sheet so securely to something it would hold and take your weight? Even if you could trust the person still in the room above you to neither untie the sheet nor give the alarm to their captors.
She was tempted to try, even so. Would Harriet really go against her? Even if the girl somehow believed this bizarre situation was her own choice, surely she must see that it wasn’t Mel’s?
“We could get out of here,” Mel said from her vantage point by the window. “Let ourselves down from one of the windows. Get to the woods, the road.”
Harriet didn’t even bother answering.
How much must she have hated her former life, that she now clung so stubbornly to whatever fantasy Glenn had offered her?
Mel didn’t say any more. Every time she tried, the pattern was the same: the sullen silence until... breaking point, and an outburst against Mel, Penny, Doug Conner, the world. At times like that it was hard to tell if this was something Glenn had done to her, or if at least some of this was the true Harriet Rayner, her inner bitch finally set free.
They watched films of Harriet’s choosing. Mel didn’t care what was on – it was all distraction, and if Harriet felt in control maybe that was a good thing.
Mel prowled their wing, unable to stay still for long.
Time seemed to have slowed, and she’d never felt so powerless.
She knew Glenn was away at the funeral, so this should be the ideal opportunity to get out of here, but there didn’t seem a way that wouldn’t land them in a worse position than they were already in.
She tried to occupy her mind. Stop herself thinking about what might come next.
She absolutely refused to allow herself even the slightest fantasy of hope.
Jimmy might be looking for her by now. Her father. The police. But all these things were beyond her influence, no more than guesses about what might be happening in the wider world.
All that could concern her right now was this. The few rooms she could roam. Harriet. The mindless stupid movies playing on that big screen on the wall.
§
The day passed. The evening.
Someone brought food, but she didn’t see who. One minute she was sitting with Harriet, and the next the girl was coming back in with a tray bearing pizza, drinks.
She gave in and ate, unable to hold out any longer.
Was this how it happened? At first you resist, but then after a day or so you buckle, and once you’ve accepted food and drink, you’ve started to accept what’s happening to you, until finally, a week later, you end up like Harriet?
The lights of several cars sweeping up the farm lane outside marked the return of Glenn and his friends, late that evening.
She watched the lights approach from her vantage point, watched them swing round to the other side of the farm, out of sight.
Minutes later she heard distant voices, laughter, from somewhere downstairs.
She saw the change in Harriet. The sudden anticipation. The alertness. The way her eyes kept flicking toward the door. The change in her posture, even.
Then the disappointment, as the voices fell silent.
Mel wanted to reach for her, draw her into a hug. Make some kind of connection. But every time she’d tried to do so it had been thrown back in her face. Why would it be any different now?
They went to bed a short time later, Harriet in one of the bedrooms here, and Mel retreating to the small boxroom where she’d spent the previous night. Odd how there should be comfort in even a trace of familiarity, when your whole world had been snatched away.
Surely Jimmy was looking for her by now?
How many times would he try calling her before concluding her silence was sinister?
She clung to that hope, lay with her arms wrapped tight around herself, her knees drawn up.
She’d never dreaded what the next day would bring as much as she did right now.
§
Glenn came the next morning. The moment they heard sounds from the corridor Harriet perked up, leaped from her chair and paused, smoothing down her clothes, her hair.
When the door opened, she went to him, paused by him, like a dog craving attention but not quite sure what response it would get.
“Babes,” said Glenn unctuously, putting his hands on the girl’s arms, drawing her in, kissing her on the cheek, and all the time his eyes on Mel.
“It’s all good, babe,” he said to the girl. “It’ll all be different once we’re out of the country, you wait and see.”
The worshipping look on Harriet’s face was chilling. Glenn really had brainwashed her. Blinded her to what was happening, what he really was.
“Oh please,” said Mel.
Harriet pulled away, her gaze flitting up, down, sideways, down again, her skin actually blushing pink.
“Really?” said Mel now, squaring up to her friend, finally letting the anger and frustration boil to the surface. “Can’t you see how pathetic you look?”
Now Harriet’s shy flush deepened, her gaze hardening and fixing on Mel, surprised perhaps at the animosity in Mel’s voice.
“Okay,” said Mel, “I’ve had enough of all this... this bullshit. Just spare me, okay?” She glared at Harriet, and went on: “And you, you spoilt, ungrateful little bitch... Well, I hope you enjoy the fate you claim you’ve so freely chosen, I really do. But right now you can just clear off. Glenn and I have some grown-up business to discuss.”
Harriet stared at her. Her lip trembled, then the muscles in her face tightened, tears and anger vying with each other. She opened her mouth to say something, but Glenn cut her off with a hand sharply raised, and said, “Give us five, would you, babes? I think your friend has something she wants to say to me in private.”
Harriet looked from Glenn to Mel, outflanked, angry, uncertain. Then with a toss of the head she turned and marched from the room, and moments later her bedroom door slammed resoundingly shut.
Mel turned her glare on Glenn, but he didn’t flinch, just stood there, that smug, superior grin on his face.
“Feeling the strain, darling?”
She wanted to punch him. Instead, she forced herself to slow down, to breathe. She couldn’t lose control now. Couldn’t give that to him.
“Please,” she said. “Let Harriet go. She’s an innocent. She’s never done anything to you.”
He shrugged, spread his hands, palms out. “You see?” he said. “You keep using words like ‘innocent’. You should know by now that’s part of the appeal.”
He laughed, and Mel breathed long and deep. Slow.
“You’ve lied to her,” she said. “I don’t know how you’ve made her believe the lies, but you have.”
“She came with me freely,” said Glenn. “I offered her the world and she said ‘yes’. Tell me what crime I’ve committed.”
“You’re selling her off to the highest bidder. To men who only want to use her and hurt her in some perverted kind of revenge against the man she doesn’t even recognize as her father.”
“Ah, but Doug Conner recognizes her, doesn’t he? That’s the bit that matters. Nobody gives a shit what Harriet fucking Rayner thinks, do they? The stupid little tart.”
He shrugged again. “And anyway,” he said, “It’s not an auction. This isn’t modern day slavery. Don’t think of it as a bidding process – think of it as a job interview for a role she’s uniquely qualified for. One culminating in a legally binding contract, which she’ll enter into voluntarily.”
“She’s only just turned seventeen.”
“As I say, uniquely qualified.”
“She looks like a child!”
“And that makes her worth more. What’s your problem, Mels?”
“Pedophilia, for starters.”
“The kid has daddy issues. My friends like it rough and barely legal. She’s their dream, their fantasy, and I’m handing her to them on a plate.”
“Selling her to them.”
“I facilitate. It’s what we Lazenbies do.”
“She’ll see through you, eventually.”
He shook his head. “You think?” he said. “She’s blind. And fucking stupid. And anyway, this time tomorrow I’ll be shot of her. Shot of both of you. Believe me, darling, I don’t give a flying fuck whether she sees through me or not because within a few hours you’ll both be out of my life for good.”
“You won’t get away with this.”
He laughed. “No? Just watch, darling, Just you watch.”
And with that he went to the door, before pausing, turning, and saying, “Scrub yourself up, you hear? I want you to look your best for your suitors. And you never know your luck: I might just let them sample the goods before they commit to bidding. It’s only polite. Just you, though – not Harriet. I want to at least preserve the illusion that little slut is pure and untouched.”
Then he turned again and left. Seconds later, Mel heard the thud of the door at the end of the corridor.
She let go the breath she’d been holding.
How had she never really seen just how bad a person Glenn Lazenby was? Oh, she’d hated him, of course. Despised him. But still... She’d never seen the true evil in him.
She heard a door, turned, and saw Harriet standing in the doorway of her bedroom.
“You heard all that?” Mel asked, and Harriet nodded.
Of course she had. Banishing her from the room so ‘the grown-ups’ could talk had pressed all the right buttons. The girl had been physically unable to do anything but stand at the door eavesdropping.
“Do you believe me now?”
And again, Harriet slowly nodded.
§
“He said it’d be different. Once we were out of the country.”
“He got into your head.”
Mel had never known anyone like Glenn Lazenby for getting inside people’s heads. He’d done it to Jimmy all their lives, he did it to her, he’d done it to Harriet. Oh, how he’d done it to Harriet!
“He wanted to destroy you,” Mel went on, “and screwing with your head is how he does that to people.”
“So,” said Harriet, “what now?”
“The food,” said Mel. “Last night: how did you know the food was here? You went out to get it.”
“There’s a telecom,” said Harriet. “By the door at the end of the hallway. It buzzed, and I heard it – you must have missed it.”
Mel thought back, but couldn’t recall hearing anything in the moment before Harriet jumped to her feet. Maybe she had, but had thought it was something on the movie’s soundtrack.
“Can you use it to call out?”
Harriet nodded.
A short time later, they stood by the telecom, looking at each other.
Mel nodded, and Harriet pressed Call.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, Suze, that you?”
A bored grunt of acknowledgment.
“Any chance of some breakfast? Some coffee at least?”
Ten minutes later, the door swung open, and Suze stepped into the corridor. She looked odd in jeans and a hoodie, and not her usual fishnets, mini-skirt and bustier outfit, although obviously she wouldn’t dress like a stripper all the time. In one hand she had a cafetière of coffee, and in the other two cups.
From the doorway of the main living room, Harriet smiled, and said, “Hey.” Then the girl hugged herself, looking vulnerable, maybe coming down from a high. A shrug, then, a smile. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of–”
Mel stepped out from behind the door, and threw herself forward, barging into Suze from the side. The dancer grunted, swore, twisted, fighting for balance. Hot coffee sprayed through the air and the cups clattered against the wall.
Suze staggered sideways, through the open doorway of the boxroom where Mel had been locked on her first night here. Mel caught herself on the frame, reached for the door and slammed it shut, twisting the key in the lock just as Suze tugged at the door from the other side.
The lock clunked home.
From within the room, Suze’s voice was angry, screeching, but thankfully, muffled.
“Quick,” said Mel. “Stick with me.”
They emerged onto the landing. Would they post a guard here, as well as keeping that heavy door locked?
There was no-one.
“Do you know the layout?” Mel asked.
Harriet shook her head. “Only our rooms,” she said.
Mel tried to remember. The stairs down to an entrance lobby, the rooms opening off it, that one room where she’d waited when she first got here, when she’d actually thought Suze was on her side.
She heard voices downstairs.
They couldn’t just head down and leave by the front door. They’d be too exposed.
But equally, they couldn’t delay. Suze’s absence would be noticed, or her muffled shouting heard.
Two more corridors led off this landing area, and more stairs led up to another floor. Glenn had described the rooms where they’d been imprisoned as a wing, so presumably the corridor opposite led to the building’s other wing.
Mel took Harriet’s hand and led her to the other corridor, heading straight back. If the other wing mirrored theirs, then there was no way out in that direction, but there might be something along here.
This other corridor led to the back of the building – maybe there would be another staircase. Servants’ stairs, perhaps? The building was old enough, and large enough for there to be more than one staircase.
The two proceeded cautiously, Mel fearful that at any moment a door might burst open and they’d be confronted by their captors.
They had to keep moving. Had to get out of here.
Already, her thoughts were racing ahead, visualizing the layout of the farm buildings, pieced together from what she’d been able to see from their windows and what she’d seen from Suze’s car as they approached the farm on Thursday evening.
If they could only get outside, it should just be a matter of finding the shortest, most out of sight, route to the trees, and then they would be hidden in the woods.
Did Glenn have dogs?
She stopped that line of thought. She’d gain nothing by making herself panic right now.
One step at a time.
This corridor, doors to either side closed.
They reached the end, but there was no staircase.
Perhaps the closed doors concealed it. But should they really try each door? What if someone was in one of the rooms?
Tentatively, she tried the nearest door, but it was locked.
Harriet was staring at her, so she smiled, hoping it was reassuring and not a mask of fear.
She looked around, and then she saw it.
At the end of the corridor was a sash window, like the ones in their rooms.
And beyond the window, a metal grid that formed a platform, surrounded by railings.
A fire escape! Outside the window was a fire escape!
She reached for the window, heart thumping.
Open, damn you!
The latch slid free easily, but the window itself wouldn’t move. She heaved again, and the frame jerked up with a groan, then stuck.
Together, they pulled at the window, managing to work it up a little farther.
She eyed the gap. Was it enough?
She swung a leg through, resting her butt on the sill. Slipped her other leg through, and felt the window frame bearing down across her hips.
She wriggled, managed to get a little farther through. Twisted, and felt the frame give a little more, edge up another fraction.
Somehow, she squeezed through as far as her ribcage.
She was starting to panic now. She felt so damned vulnerable like this.
She tried not to think about getting stuck. Pulled and pushed and twisted, a fraction at a time. Breathed out to flatten her ribcage, and couldn’t breathe fully back in, adding to the feeling of panic welling inside.
Then she felt something give, something shift, a painful dragging across her breasts as the weight of her body pulled on her.
The frame gave again, suddenly allowing her to breathe, and then she wriggled, pulled, and was tumbling free, down onto the hard metal platform of the fire escape.
She wanted to cry, she hurt so much.
But she couldn’t.
On her knees, she peered back, suddenly fearful for Harriet.
The girl was eyeing the gap, her mouth open, her eyes wide. She was scared, maybe having second thoughts. What if someone came now?
“Come on,” said Mel, beckoning. “Quick. I’ve got you.”
She didn’t know what she meant by that, but it seemed to work. Harriet swung one leg and then the other through the gap, and slithered through far more easily than Mel had – a combination of her skinny frame, and the gap having been forced wider by Mel’s passage.
Mel caught her, realized she had got her. Held on for a moment, and then stepped back, turned.
Metal steps led down from the platform to the yard where the cars were parked.
If only they’d been able to get hold of keys to one of them, but she knew that had never been a possibility. Simply to be out here, breathing fresh air, stepping cautiously down the steps, was miracle enough.
They were doing this!
They paused on solid ground, Mel getting her bearings.
There was a gap between the outbuildings across to the side of the main building. Maybe a hundred meters across rough grazing land to the first of the trees, with the outbuildings giving them some kind of cover most of the way.
She took Harriet’s hand, and said, “Come on. This way.”
When they reached the corner of the farmhouse, they paused again, and that was when Mel heard a dull thud, an impact of something on the ground behind them.
She looked back, looked up, looked down again.
Suze had jumped from a window, landed in a low squat to take the impact, and now was slowly uncoiling her tall frame, her eyes fixed on the two fugitives.
“Quick, run!” Mel snapped at Harriet. She turned and took a couple of steps, and that was when Wayne stepped out from the shade of an outbuilding, moved toward her and she felt his powerful grip closing on her upper arm, so hard she cried out until the other meaty hand closed on her mouth, smothering her so she feared she was going to suffocate.
She was powerless, could only pray that at least Harriet had been able to evade them.
But then, as Wayne drew her into his embrace, like a spider with its prey, she saw Suze standing over Harriet, the girl flat out on the ground, not moving.
And then Mel felt her feet lift from the ground, felt her body being crushed against Wayne’s, his arms around her, his hand still covering her face. Felt swamped by his strength, over-powered by his presence, entirely at his mercy.
“You’re mine now,” he said softly. “So fucking mine!”