The Promise Read online

Andy screwed his face up.

  ‘Oh, don’t tell me you suddenly got a conscience, have you? You didn’t seem to have any issues two minutes ago when your trousers were down around your ankles.’

  Josie was bored. She’d got her money.

  She needed to get home to see what the matter was with Georgie. Knowing her girls, Marnie had probably had another massive meltdown about something. The kid had been on the verge of tears before Josie had even left tonight.

  ‘You told me you didn’t have kids though?’

  ‘Yeah, well, you told me that you had a big cock, didn’t you? So I guess we’re both even now, aren’t we.’

  ‘You coming?’ Josie said to Mandy as she saw a cab pulling up just across the road.

  ‘I might pop over and see if Davey’s still up,’ Mandy said. ‘Unless you want me to come back with you and check on the girls?’

  Josie shook her head, knowing full well that Mandy was dying to get round to see Davey. It was all the woman had spoken about all evening.

  ‘I’ll call you tomorrow, babe,’ she shouted as she ran across the road, flagging the taxi down before it drove off.

  The quicker she got home and sorted the girls out the better.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The loud scream dragged Georgie out of her sleep.

  Still tired, she stared over towards the television screen, disorientated, trying to figure out where the noise had come from.

  Her film must have finished, now replaced by an old-fashioned cookery programme that dominated the screen. She must have fallen asleep, though she wasn’t sure how long ago. Maybe she’d just imagined the noise? Or maybe she’d dreamt it?

  She should go to bed; she’d been waiting up for their mother to get home. She’d said she’d only be a few hours, but then that could mean anything in their mother’s book. The woman seemed to have no concept of time. Happy to come and go as she pleased. Georgie was used to being left to fend for herself and her little sister.

  Yawning once more, Georgie decided that she wasn’t going to bother waiting up. She’d go to bed. She was surprised her sister had gone ahead of her, if she was honest. Marnie normally hated being on her own, but her sister had been adamant that she needed to be in bed by nine. She’d said that Mummy had told her to be good while she was gone and, obsessing as always over the Bogeyman coming to get her, Marnie must have taken herself off to bed.

  Georgie smiled.

  Marnie was a little character. She drove her mad sometimes with the tantrums and the night terrors; the bedwetting was the worst part for Georgie, but she still loved her all the same.

  Georgie had barely made it as far as the lounge door before she heard another strange muted noise, like a muffled scream.

  It was real, she realised, the noise that had woken her.

  It sounded like Marnie. Another night terror?

  They had been getting worse lately. Every night she’d been having them.

  Georgie tried her best to help her sister, but nothing seemed to make them go away. They were affecting her in the day now too. Making Marnie anxious, nervous. It was like some kind of phobia she’d developed.

  Making her way to their bedroom, Georgie prayed that Marnie hadn’t wet the bed too. She could cope with the tears and the tantrums, but having to change all the bedding again would be a chore.

  ‘Marnie?’ she said curiously as she saw the bedroom door was closed. Marnie never closed the door; she was too frightened to be left in her room all on her own.

  Turning the bedroom door handle, Georgie realised Marnie had locked it too.

  How odd.

  ‘Marnie?’ Georgie said. Cautiously now, she rapped her knuckles against the wood. Waiting for her sister to reply.

  Maybe Marnie was just playing some kind of a joke on her. Georgie wasn’t sure, but something deep in her gut didn’t feel right. Marnie would never lock the door.

  ‘Marnie? Is Mum in there with you?’ Georgie asked as she made her way towards the bedroom, her heartbeat thudding inside her chest.

  Had her mum come home already? While she’d been sleeping? But then why didn’t they answer her? They must be able to hear her banging at the door.

  Georgie tried it again.

  Twisting the door handle, she bounced her body weight against it as if to try and break the lock.

  It wouldn’t budge.

  Leaning up against it now, Georgie could feel herself getting anxious. Something really wasn’t right here.

  ‘Marnie, can you hear me? Marnie, answer me?’

  Georgie was getting angry. Shouting through the door she banged her hands against it repeatedly to get her sister’s attention. When that didn’t work, she pressed her ear up against it and listened.

  She could hear the sound of heavy breathing. As if Marnie was suppressing her sobs. As if she was underneath her covers.

  Or someone was holding something over her mouth.

  ‘Marnie? It’s me, Georgie. Open the door.’

  Georgie was shouting now. Banging her fists as hard as she could.

  Thumping her body off the wood repeatedly.

  ‘If you don’t open the door right now, Marnie. I mean it, Marnie. This isn’t funny. Open the door.’

  Silence. Nothing.

  Then another noise. A low, deep whisper.

  Georgie couldn’t make it out.

  It sounded like someone was in there with her.

  The loud crash inside the room startled her. Something or someone had fallen? She heard a scuffle then. As if someone was scurrying across the carpet, only to be dragged backwards again.

  Her sister’s voice, screaming.

  ‘Georgie. Help—’

  What sounded like a loud slap.

  Then silence once more.

  Georgie was frantic, throwing herself at the door. Kicking it, hitting it, but nothing would make it budge.

  ‘Marnie, it’s all right, I’m going to help you.’

  Running the length of the corridor, Georgie could barely think straight.

  She didn’t know what to do. She could run around to the neighbours’ house and ask them to call the police. They would get here quicker than her mother would. They would know what to do. But then Georgie knew the rules.

  You never, ever called the police.

  Their mother had told them time and time again that the authorities wouldn’t give a fuck about them, that they would take Georgie and Marnie away. Pigs, she called them.

  Georgie scanned the kitchen, looking for something, anything, to help her break down the door.

  Her eyes rested on her mother’s phone on the kitchen table; her mother must have left it here. Grabbing the mobile, Georgie tapped in Mandy’s name and listened as the phone started ringing. Wasting no time while she waited, Georgie dropped to her knees and started pulling apart the cupboard under the kitchen sink. By the time Mandy answered Georgie was sobbing inconsolably. Unable to comprehend what was happening, all she knew was that her sister was in danger, and she didn’t know how to make it right.

  For the first time in her life she was genuinely scared. Terrified, in fact.

  Her words came out all jumbled. Stuttering, panicked, as if her mouth couldn’t keep up with her brain.

  ‘Mandy. Tell my mum she needs to come home right now. It’s Marnie. He’s come back. I can’t get to her.’

  Not hearing Mandy’s reply, Georgie pulled the phone from her ear and stared at the black screen.

  Shit!

  The battery on the phone had died. She didn’t even know if Mandy had heard anything she’d said. Georgie was going to have to do something, and fast. She couldn’t wait for her mother to turn up here; it might be too late by then.

  Pulling at the kitchen drawers she picked up a carving knife.

  Chucking it back down – that wasn’t going to help her, she needed something bigger. Something that would aid her in breaking the door down.

  A saucepan? A Rolling pin? She needed something stronger. Something
that wouldn’t break on impact.

  Sweeping all the contents from the cupboard out into a pile all over the kitchen floor, Georgie ducked her head down low, and climbed half inside, her arm reaching towards the back.

  A hammer.

  That would do; she was sure of it.

  Grabbing it by the handle, Georgie ran as fast as she could back to the room, skidding on the cold kitchen tiles as she ran.

  By the time she reached the bedroom door, she was exhausted, but she knew what she had to do. Making a run at the door, she swung the hammer up above her head and launched at it.

  It made a loud thud, a tiny dent.

  She wasn’t strong enough.

  Determined not to give up, Georgie continued to hit out repeatedly. Over and over again.

  The wood began to weaken, splitting in places as the metal tool impacted.

  She felt like she’d been hitting the door for ages, and getting nowhere.

  Hysterical, she could feel her tears pouring down her face now, blurring her vision. Her shoulder was aching, burning, but she had to keep trying.

  She couldn’t give up.

  ‘What in the name of fuck is going on?’ Josie said.

  Walking in through the front door, the first thing she heard was the loud banging.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing to the door, Georgie?’ Josie said looking horrified at her daughter as Georgie yanked out the hammer that was now wedged inside the wooden frame, and sent small splinters of wood flying all over the hallway floor. Josie honestly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Wondering if the girls had had a row, and Marnie had locked her out, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The house was destroyed. ‘Are you out of your fucking mind, Georgie? What on earth is going on?’

  Just the sound of her mother’s voice behind her was enough to tip Georgie over the edge.

  She broke down, screaming.

  ‘Help me, Mum. He’s got her. He’s locked them both in. He must have snuck in here while I was asleep. I can’t get in. I’ve been trying to break the door down, but I can’t get in.’

  Josie walked the few steps towards Georgie as if in a trance.

  She mustn’t have heard her daughter right. Couldn’t have.

  Someone had Marnie?

  There must be some sort of a mistake.

  ‘What do you mean “he’s got her”? Who’s got her?’ Josie asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach as the realisation struck her with such force she felt like she’d been punched. ‘Trevor?’ Her voice was almost a whisper now too.

  Seeing Georgie nod her head, the terrified look on her face, Josie knew it was true.

  Her legs turned to jelly, weakened at the thought that all this time Trevor had been drugging her. The fact he never wanted to have sex. The way he skulked around the house, watching, observing, with all his odd little ways.

  It had never been about her.

  He’d just wanted her silenced, immobilised, so that he could get to Marnie.

  Her protective instincts kicking in, she’d never known anger like it as she grabbed the hammer from her daughter’s grasp and began battering the door down with it. The sheer force of the blows making the door bounce off its hinges.

  Creaking, the wood gave way, splitting the door open.

  How could she not have known?

  Marnie had told her so many times about the Bogeyman that was trying to get her. How she was scared he would come if she wasn’t a good girl.

  ‘Leave my daughter alone!’ Josie was screeching like a woman possessed. Unable to control her body, her instincts took over, consuming her. She slammed so hard against the door that she almost snapped the wooden panel in two.

  She was in.

  There would be murders now.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ‘Get the fuck away from her. Now!’ Josie screeched as she switched on the bedroom light. Her worst nightmares confirmed as Trevor Pearson stared back at her.

  She’d expected him to look as guilty as hell. Caught red-handed in Marnie’s bedroom with the door locked. Instead, he looked at her with disdain, a twisted smirk on his face.

  ‘Marnie, are you okay? Did he hurt you, baby?’

  Marnie shook her head.

  Sitting up with the bedcovers pulled up around her, Josie could see just by the child’s expression that she was traumatised by the night’s events. She looked terrified. Like she’d seen a ghost. A monster.

  The Bogeyman was standing in the middle of the bedroom.

  ‘This is what this has all been about?’ Josie said; her voice sounded strange, alien, even to her own ears. The fear of the man had left her now. Replaced with something else, something much more powerful.

  Pure hate.

  He didn’t scare her. He disgusted her.

  Sickened her to her core.

  Trevor didn’t move an inch. Like a wild animal caught in the headlights, his hand twitched at his side as his eyes dotted around the room. Yet still he stood there, perfectly still.

  ‘You planned this all along, didn’t you? Our little arrangement. It was never me you wanted, was it? You sick piece of shit.’

  ‘What’s this? The concerned mother?’ Trevor laughed.

  The sound rippling through Josie like another blow to her stomach.

  He was laughing, actually laughing in her face.

  ‘You and that Mandy. Always gallivanting around the town like the pair of slags that you are. You didn’t care about these kids then, did you, Josie? You couldn’t give a fuck about them.’

  ‘You don’t know anything about me, Trevor. You don’t know jack shit.’

  Josie was defensive. But he was right.

  This was her fault too.

  She’d let this man into her house, let him get near to her kids, despite her intuition telling her otherwise; her need for money had been much stronger.

  What had she done. What the fuck had she done?

  Her poor, poor Marnie.

  Trevor stepped towards her. Unsure whether he was going to strike her, or whether he was making his way to the bedroom door in a bid to escape, Josie lifted the hammer once more. Her voice a clear warning.

  ‘Move the fuck back. Move over, get the fuck away from my daughter.’

  Her voice was steady. Eerily calm.

  Only, Trevor wasn’t listening to her.

  He was still moving towards her.

  He was trying to leave she realised. Like the coward that he was, he was looking for his escape.

  Georgie could see it too; instinctively, the child stepped out, deliberately blocking his way.

  She was no match for Trevor though.

  Trevor grabbed her hard with both hands. Gripping her by her shoulders, he slammed Georgie into the wall.

  There was a thud as her head hit the bricks behind her.

  A sharp intake of breath as she slumped down to the floor, lifeless, like a rag doll.

  ‘You bastard.’ Josie spat. Dropping the hammer to the floor, she went to Georgie’s aid.

  ‘Georgie, are you okay?’ she asked, seeing Georgie’s eyes flick open, relieved that she hadn’t lost consciousness.

  The next thing she felt was Trevor’s hands from behind her, wrapping themselves tightly around her throat.

  He knew he wasn’t going to get away with this. Josie wasn’t just going to roll over and play dead for him. Not after what he had done. She was going to fight.

  The man needed to pay, and the way Josie felt right now towards Trevor, she was capable of ripping the man’s head clean off his shoulders with her bare hands.

  Swinging her arm backwards, she clawed at his face, his throat, anything to try and get him to release his grip on her.

  He was relentless.

  Forcefully, he squeezed her throat even harder with both hands.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  Trevor was too strong.

  Spluttering, straining, she could feel her eyes bulging in her head. Her lungs screaming for air inside her chest. The
rattling noise that crept up from the depths of her throat causing her to choke.

  She couldn’t die like this.

  She couldn’t let Trevor get away with this.

  Reaching around on the floor for the hammer before she passed out… she couldn’t find it. She swept her hand across the carpet.

  Trevor didn’t know what hit him when the blow came. A look of complete disbelief flitted across his face.

  His invincibility shattered.

  His eyes opened wide in horror as the metal hammer ripped through his skull.

  Once. Twice. Until the sharp jagged claw caved in Trevor’s skull. Embedded in his brain.

  A strained strangled noise escaped from his throat as he gurgled on a mouthful of his own blood.

  Then he slumped down onto the floor.

  Blood.

  So much blood.

  The Bogeyman was dead.

  Chapter Thirty

  ‘Here you go, girls. It’s out of a machine so I can’t guarantee that it will taste very nice, but it’s better than the other choice on offer, which is mushy pea soup.’ Handing the two little girls a cup of hot chocolate each, DI Ben Drayton was trying to cheer them up, but he knew it was no easy task after what they’d both witnessed tonight.

  ‘Why are we here? Have we been bad too?’ Marnie said, looking up at the policeman. ‘Is this prison? Is our mummy here?’

  DI Drayton shook his head, unable for a few seconds to find his voice. He was trying to stay professional, trying to keep control of his emotions, all the while battling the raw lump that had formed in the back of his throat as he stared at the two girls, both wrapped in the station’s blankets, huddled together on the bench inside the police cell – as they stared back at him with fear in their eyes.

  He’d seen a lot in his time as detective inspector of Brixton police station, and considered himself not easily unsettled, but the sight of these two children sitting in a police cell, after everything they’d both been through, didn’t sit easy with him.

  ‘Neither of you did anything wrong. Do you hear me? Nothing at all. None of this was any of your fault, okay?’

  Marnie nodded, but he could see by her face that she didn’t look convinced. He wasn’t surprised either. The kids were sitting in one of the police cells, for God’s sake. Of course they were going to feel like a pair of criminals. Who wouldn’t in their shoes?