CHARLOTTE We tramp through the darkness, Michael with the axe slung over his shoulder. At first, we pause every few hundred yards, listening for pursuit, but hear nothing. After the first mile or so, we simply walk at the best pace we can.
I start off, feeling well enough, but after a while, the adrenaline high that supported me during our escape, wears off, and in the intense cold, I feel dull and lethargic, my flesh chilling.
âYou sure weâre going the right way?â I ask.
âPretty sure. That phone of yours got GPS?â
How stupid can I be?
âOf course it has.â
I flick on the mapping app, then dim to night-mode as the screen dazzles me, knocking out my night vision. Michael peers over my shoulder, as the screen centres and displays our position. âYup. Two or three miles that way.â he points. âCome on. Weâre making good progress. If we walk quickly, weâll stay warm.â
Walking quickly is easier said than done. The tracks are rough and uneven, knotted with tree roots that lie be-shadowed and waiting to trip the unwary. The last thing either of us needs is a sprained ankle.
We hear it before we see it, echoing through the pines; the wail of sirens. Then beyond the forest, through the trees, the flashing blue lights of many, many cars, an ambulance, and seemingly crowds of people; police, medicsâ¦. and finally, I see it, my Masterâs car. He is there, standing, leaning against it, his breath blowing blue clouds into the night air, scanning the tree-line.
Michaelâs eyes, glinting with amusement, meet mine as we survey the hubbub. âWell, he did say he was bringing help.â Then he yells, waving as we emerge from the trees. âJames! Hereâ¦. Jamesâ¦.â
My Master looks, trying to follow the sound, his gaze swinging before he sights us, then, his face lighting up, he runs towards us. Flinging his arms around me, he pulls me to him, holding me tightly, too tightly, until I have to pull away. âMaster, Iâm okay, really. Please, I need airâ¦â
He breaks free, but holds me by the shoulders, looking into my face. âYouâre alright? Really alright?â
âYes, Iâm fine. It was awful, but Michael.â¦â
âTell me later. Come and get warmed up.â
He turns, slapping Michaelâs shoulder, who slaps him back. The two donât say anything, but men donât, do they?
Paramedics fuss around us with blankets and questions, apparently disappointed when we both insist that we are not hurt. Hot soup is thrust into my hand, steaming, savoury and fragrant in the night air. It is perfect, richly flavoured and herby, and just the right temperature for drinking. Warmth worms its way back down my frozen toes.
Michael and I return to the city in my Masterâs car, but we are flanked, front and rear, by a travelling wall of blue flashing cars.
âWhere are we going?â asks Michael.
âHaswell Building.â replies my Master. âWeâre taking the Penthouse guest apartment.â
âThat seems an odd place to go. You sent me away from there before.â I comment, through a semi-
stifled yawn. âWhy there?â
My Masterâs face swings around to me. âItâs defensible.â
*****
There is a moment of bare consciousness as my shoulder is shaken. âCharlotte, wake up. Weâre here.â
âMmmm?â
âWeâre here.â It is my Master. âGet out of the car. You can sleep as soon as weâre in.â
I stagger out of the car, walking in a semi-doze to the elevatorâ¦.
...
...
â¦.. and light streams in, through the windows over the bed. Blinking into brilliant sunshine, I sit up, trying to remember where I am.
Michael is lying beside me, still sound asleep, but I donât recognise the room. Still a bit confused, my only certainty is that my bladder is crying out for a bathroom.
My clothes are laid tidily on a chair next to the bed, along with a clean, white towelling robe, which I slip on. Barefoot, I pad out of the room.
I step out into a large and very beautiful apartment. We are high, very high, with a view over the City that ranges all the way to the mountains. Two figures, with their backs to me, are bending over a tabletop, discussing some large map or plan laid out on the table.
A bit awkwardly, âUmmmâ¦.â
The figures straighten up, turning to face me. It is my Master and Richard. My Master strides forward, hugs me and kisses the top of my head. âGood afternoon, Charlotte.â Then he points. âBathroom?â I nod.
When I return to the room, my Master is pouring coffee. âYou said âAfternoonâ. What time is it?â
âAbout two pm,â says Richard. âWe let you both sleep. How are you?â
âUm, fine. I just havenât woken up properly yet.â
âYou want to go back to bed? Sleep some more?â asks my Master.
âNo. Coffeeâs fine. Michaelâs still asleep thoughâ¦. He saved my life you know. He saved both of us.â
âWe know,â says Richard. âWhen you rang James here, the Police went straight to your mountain home, although they couldnât search the area properly until daylight. They found the two men Michael dealt withâ¦.â
âAre they alive?â
He sniffs. âYes, but theyâre going to be hospitalised for a long time. The one they found in the snow is never going to be handsome again. His face is pretty much smashed up. What did Michael do to him?â
âThey had guns. Michael caught the first one, who came into the bedroom, on his gun hand with the butt of the axe-head. I think it must have smashed all the bones. The other one, who came after us out in the snow, he caught in the face with the flat of the axe.â
âHandy that he had the axe on him?â
âHe had it under the bed. I didnât know about it until we heard noises. Then he used it to take out the one who came into the bedroomâ¦. There was no time for anything. We had to escape out into the snow. All he had on was boots.â
âOnly boots? It was well below zero last nightâ¦â
âWe didnât have any choice. There were at least two others. We just had to go. He had the axe, and I carried his clothes and a blanket. He couldnât get dressed until we reached the walkersâ shelterâ¦. Did the Police find the others? The ones he didnât get?â
âNo. Theyâd left by the time the Police arrived.â
âWill Michael have any trouble overâ¦.?â
âNo. It was clearly self-defence, and defence of you. Heâll have no trouble at all.â
âHello.â
We turn. Michael is standing in the bedroom door, in a bathrobe similar to mine. âI heard voices.â He yawns. âIs that coffee?â
My Master strides over, slaps him on the shoulder. âCharlotte was just telling us how you saved the day last night.â
âShe wasnât exactly helpless herselfâ¦.â
*****
Cradling mugs, Michael and I start taking coffee on board. âSorry,â he says, âbut where are we exactly?
Iâm a bit vague about what happened after we got into the car.â
âYouâre in the top floor penthouse of my offices. Usually, itâs used as VIP accommodation for visitors,â
says Richard. âBut itâs yours until the Police have the criminals who want Charlotte, safely locked up.
Michael casts around the room. âPretty nice. I suppose there are worse places to be incarcerated.â
âWhy should you be incarcerated?â I ask. âItâs not you theyâre after.â
He looks me in the eye. âItâs not me I was talking about,â he says, his voice level.
âButâ¦. it could take months to find them. I canât stay here all that time.â
âI think you may have to,â says Richard. He raises a hand as he sees me start to protest. âLook at it this wayâ¦. How did they know where to find you last night?â
âItâs my home.â
âItâs been your home for a couple of weeks. Who else knew?â
âUmâ¦. You and Bethâ¦. Oh!â
The reality sinks in. They have Beth, and Beth knows all about me. She surely wouldnât betray me by choice, but sheâs not likely to be given choices by these men.
Richard shrugs, looking sick at heart. âIâm sorry Charlotte, but if itâs something that Beth knew about you, then I think we can assume that they know it too.â
I want to protest, but even I know that I mustnât inflict any more heartache on Richard. They have his wife. and itâs because of meâ¦.
Iâll try to make the best of itâ¦.
I wander over to the windows. âItâs certainly a spectacular viewâ¦.â
âCharlotte,â says Richard urgently. âcome away from the windows.â
?
âThey can easily afford to pay sharp-shooters. You mustnât stand by the windows where they might see you.â
âI canât even look at the view?â
Richard stays silent for a moment then, âIâm going to leave you to it for a while. I donât doubt that the three of you want to talk. James, Iâll be in my office when youâre ready.â