'It's your own fault' by M Wilson Armour

M. Wilson Armour

Copyright Š M. Wilson Armour 2012 Published by N. T. Smalley ISBN 978-0-9566966-1-8

Copyright © M. Wilson Armour 2012 ISBN 978-0-9566966-1-8 COPYRIGHT NOTICE TO BE ADDED HERE

All the characters in this book are fictional and any resemblance to individuals living or dead is unintentional.

The author would like to thank the following people for their kind assistance and encouragement in the writing of this book Duncan Ainscough for helping with the computer side of things when I kept hitting the wrong keys!

Valerie Ainscough for encouraging me with this, my first story.

Sandra Dunn, Warden at Boyle Court, for her encouragement and saying that my first 12-page attempt was good.

Alan Izat a real life ‘Tony Barclay’ and MS Specialist Nurse Anne Thompson MS Nurse for believing it!

Ian Hesett – the culprit who started me on my writing journey!

PART ONE:

CAROL AND BRIAN CHAPTER ONE

Carol hated Brian. He had pulled the ribbons from her pigtails – again. He was always doing this, it made him laugh but it made her want to cry. All her long brown hair would be in a mess without the ribbons. She wanted the tears to come, to fall from her dark brown eyes. Only she shouldn't cry should she?

What would be the point anyway? Her mother wouldn't be pleased if she went home with a tear-stained face and untidy hair. She wouldn’t show her daughter any sympathy and would be angry with her and blame Carol for teasing Brian in the first place. Which she hadn't done, but the little girl knew she would never be believed. Carol was only five years old but had already learned a lot about life, and how Brian was her mother’s favourite.

Two years older than his sister Brian Finlay was the apple of his mother’s eye, her golden child, her pride and joy. Her magic child.

Carol on the other hand was a nuisance and a pest to her mother.

Nothing more than an inconvenience that had to be borne. “Who will ever want to marry you when you grow up, or give you a job, you’re nothing but a useless lump,” her mother would tell the little girl. The rejection was always there, festering like an open wound.

Clara Finlay wouldn't even touch her daughter when she was born, leaving the concerned nurses to hand the screaming child over to her father.

Needless to say there was no bonding between mother and child right from the start of the infant’s life. Carol was an unwanted baby at only a few hours old and it was a rejection that would last for the rest of her life. She was to be totally unloved and rejected by her mother. No one would ever think it possible that anyone could spend their entire life without knowing any real love from anyone, but it happened.

Carol’s school days were a nightmare for her, being endless days of trial and tribulation. The other school children could be cruel without perhaps realising what they were actually doing to her, but they robbed her of any self confidence that she might have gained if someone had shown her an ounce of kindness. Even the teachers seemed to be against her. Instead of nurturing her and installing some much needed self esteem, they would bring her down

at the slightest opportunity, making her look the fool and someone to be laughed at by both them and the entire class. They perhaps thought that they would instil some fight in her but instead all it had was the opposite effect.

The children would taunt her at break times too, calling her names and comparing her to the ever popular Brian. He mixed well, Carol did not, keenly aware that she could never measure up to her brother. The children were merciless in their bullying. They would taunt her continuously, calling her a changeling, a word which one had no doubt overheard from parental conversation as it was not a word most five year old children would know. They said she hadn't been exchanged at birth by fairies for another child but had been swapped by a devil fairy, so therefore she must be a devil. “Stay away from her” the adults would tell their children, "She might put a bad spell on you." Her classmates laughed as Carol cried in the playground, the only place she allowed the tears to flow, hounded day in day out, in their cruel games. But there were four boys in particular who took an extreme pleasure of teasing her.

Their names were Luke, Mike, Jeremy and John. The fab four as they were known in the playground, named after the Beatles pop group. Only there was nothing fab about these four. They always seemed to be in one scrape after another, constantly picking on Carol and making a fool of her. Brian had once been part of this elite little group, but eventually he grew tired of their endless pranks and he moved on to make new friends.

Despite having everything against her, Carol was a clever child, often spending hours going over Brian's unused encyclopaedias, bought for him by the ever doting Clara. Nothing was too good for her boy. Carol had to be careful though because if Clara ever found out she was even touching her brother’s things she would be very, very angry indeed and send her daughter to bed without any tea, calling her all sorts of hateful names.

As they grew a little older Brian began to notice that Carol knew numerous things that he did not and could easily answer questions that he knew nothing about.

He would more often than not get her to do his homework for him, leaving her no time for her own. She would then incur the teacher’s wrath for missing an assignment or hurried messy work. To escape the drudgery and unfairness of her life Carol began inventing a life for herself where she was in control of what happened and things were how she wanted them to be. It was her fairytale life of pure imagination right from the start. People liked her, people loved her, everyone cared about her. What more could she want?

Then one day her make believe little world almost crashed around her as she began to hear things being said about her family, things that at first she didn't understand.

Neighbours talking over the garden fence when they thought that none of the Finlay’s could hear them. “Funny family the Finlay’s aren't they?” someone would say. “Well, the father’s o.k. and the mother’s like a saint, but I'm not so sure about

The girl. She can’t be their own child; I mean look at her, looks nothing like her brother.” “You’re right, he’s so small and delicate and she’s such a big lump of a girl.” “I doubt if anyone will ever want to employ her when she grows up, or much less marry her,” someone else put in. There was much laughter at the thought of anyone actually employing or wanting to marry Carol. Carol decided there and then that she didn't like people very much. How dare they say such things! It also hurt her deeply when she heard their next door neighbour, Mrs Masters saying one day, “Doubt Clara’s been holding out on us. There’s no way that pair can be brother and sister. I bet she’s been adopted from somewhere, from some people who wouldn’t want a daughter who looks like she does.”

‘Adopted? What’s that?’ an innocent five year old Carol thought, and it was many years later before she found out what it really meant. It hurt her to think that perhaps the man and woman she thought of as her parents might not be. She needed some stabilising factor in her life, before fantasy took over completely.

As the mother grew older and more infirm the father did what he could, but he eventually died of a massive heart attack leaving Carol and Brian to take care of a now ailing Clara. Only Brian was of no help around the house, his mother saying he was too delicate a boy, (he was 25 at the time). However unknown to Clara, Brian had often sneaked off with his father to watch him in his trade as a builder, while Carol had to do all the housework. She tried but there was just no pleasing Clara. She would often pick fault where there was none. “Just so as you know your place Miss, can’t have you putting on all these fancy airs and graces."

Clara cackled.

Then on that cold, grey December day, Clara Finlay finally gave up the ghost and passed away, the town’s people gathering at her graveside. “Such a good kindhearted woman,” one would say or “She’ll be sorely missed,” from a woman who cried openly. “Always giving to good causes too, nothing was too much for her.”

They all seemed to think that she was some sort of a saint as this was the face she showed to others.

No one really knew what had gone on behind the Finlay’s closed front door and how Clara psychologically abused her daughter.

So it was that Brian, being named as the executor of his mother’s will and having reached the age of 26 that same year, went to meet with the lawyer.

He found out that he and Carol had been left well off by their father. There would be no need for them to join the workforce and they could stay cocooned in their own little worlds. However he did receive a shock which was contained in a sealed letter from his father, with instructions that it was only to be opened in the event of both parents being deceased. It told him that he, Brian, had been adopted when Carol was only six months old and he was an orphan of three years of age.

This meant that Carol was in fact not the blood sibling that he had always imagined her to be.

CHAPTER TWO

After Clara had been dead for just over nine months things began to change for the pair. Brian now discovering that his wealth bought him all the makings of a near professional home gym, and he would work out most days in one of the cellar rooms which he had had converted. Unable to do all the building work himself he had to get the expert tradesmen in who couldn't help telling their mates what was going on in, or rather under, the Finlay’s home.

“You should see it, much better than some of the professional gyms we’ve been to,” Connor McKenzie one of the aforesaid workmen told Mike Lawler one day.

Both were keen keep fit fanatics. “Seems such a shame that it’s buried away down in their cellar.”

“I'd love to have a look.” Mike replied. “Don't see that happening though as Brian’s never forgiven me for putting jam in his school bag when we were ten.”

“You're kidding,” Con said, “school was years ago.”

“Well to you and me maybe but not to Carol and Brian,” Mike replied shaking his head sadly as he’d have loved to have seen the new place.

While the work had been going on to create the new gym, there had been much banging and thumping, much to the consternation of the neighbours Mr and Mrs Masters and their daughter Amy. Also to the chagrin of their foreign exchange student, who was staying with them while in the U.K., Josh Johansen. He had come over from Sweden to learn about the culture and the people not to have his hearing assaulted by noisy workmen. Eventually the noise did desist and peace again reigned in the little street where they all lived.

Keeping up with his workouts most days Brian began to gain some much needed muscles.

Carol, on the other hand, never seemed to be away from the local doctors who could find nothing physically wrong with her and put it all down to the shock of her mother’s death, knowing nothing of the way Clara had actually treated her daughter. Carol was always so tired and seemed to have little energy for anything, struggling just to keep house for her brother. Even when she visited the family doctor, Dr Murchison, with strange “feelings” in her feet, he did not pick up on anything, telling her she had a good strong pulse to her feet so not to worry.

This went on for a few years and still nothing could be found physically wrong, so the general consensus among the practice doctors was that she had an overworked

imagination and the word TATT was entered onto her medical record; TATT standing for ‘Tired All The Time’ - which she always was. She didn't know what to do. No one would listen to or believe her, as usual, that there was something seriously wrong and that it wasn't an overworked imagination, or someone just looking for sympathy.

Then one day while she was out at the shops without Brian, which happened very rarely as she always felt so tired, she ran into Luke, Mike, Jeremy and John, the fab four and her childhood tormentors. They all still met up occasionally, especially when a good football match was being televised at the local pub, despite two of them being married. They were given Saturdays off by their wives who truth be told, were only too glad to have some peace themselves without hubby getting under their feet.

“Well, well, if it isn't the devil child Carol Finlay.” Mike stated with a laugh, which, now that they were all a lot older, was said more with humour than malice, but Carol didn't know this and it brought back so many painful childhood memories for her of the taunting she had endured in the playground, especially from these four.

“So, got a boyfriend yet Carol?” Jeremy teased and they all laughed at the idea, as they all knew full well that Carol had never shown much interest in boys. If she did fancy someone she never let them know, knowing that Clara would have called her a Jezebel and a hussy. Jeremy on the other hand had been very interested in girls, one in particular, Julie Simms, who had fallen pregnant with his twin girls at the age of seventeen. They were so like him that there could be no denying who the ‘Daddy’ was, even without a DNA test. Not that he had ever tried to deny the fact that they were his, and he had married Julie a year later, much to her parents’ relief.

“Bet she’s got dozens of boyfriends by now!” This came from John joining in the banter.

They were all having a good natured go as they hadn't really seen Carol or Brian since school days as after the mother had died, they had shut themselves away from society, growing older in near total seclusion with only each other for company.

Tears were beginning to form in Carol’s eyes and Mike spotted them.

“Leave me alone!” She sobbed and to her surprise Mike spoke up for her.

“Yeah, come on you guys leave her alone.”

The others looked at him in wonder for having spoken up for Carol. Having the tears clouding her eyes she didn't see him wink at the others as if to say, ‘it’s only our Carol’. He shooed the other three away. They took the hint and began to walk back towards the pub, hoping to see their team win that afternoon. Mike however hung back to speak to Carol.

“Sorry about that Carol, some people just haven't grown up yet,” he said by way of an apology and he gave her a big broad smile showing a mouthful of perfect

white teeth. Carol thought he looked like a movie star… her saviour; he was her knight in shining armour.

“Mike I …I was wondering …” she stammered unused to speaking to anyone except Brian or her parents when they had been alive. “Would you like to come round to our place sometime and perhaps see Brian's new gym?” She said all in a rush totally unsure if this was a right way to speak to a man. Was she being too forward?

“I'm sure he’d like to see you again as he doesn’t get any company.” She felt herself redden under his gaze despite being in her late twenties. She didn't add that she didn't get any company either.

To her total surprise he accepted. “Ok Carol, how’s about I come round at the weekend? Then we could maybe go out somewhere after?” he suggested, just managing to keep a straight face. Could Carol still be so gullible even at this age? he wondered.

As if he’d really want to go out with her! All he really wanted to do was get a look at the wonderful new gym which he had heard so much about from his builder mates, some of who had even worked on the actual renovation.

“Oh that would be lovely Mike.” She was so happy and excited at the thought, as Mike looked so handsome, even in a tatty old pair of jeans and sweatshirt that had obviously seen better days. Her dreams were coming true after all! Mike Lawler was coming to see them! No, to see her!

“Right then, see you Carol.” With that he turned and ran to catch up with his mates.

CHAPTER THREE

The weekend couldn't come fast enough for Carol. She was going to have a visitor!

Maybe this was the start of her new life. Maybe there was hope for her yet. Maybe there was a life without Clara’s intervention. So many ‘maybes’ but how much would actually become reality?

“We're getting a visitor this weekend,” she announced proudly to Brian on returning home. “I met Mike Lawler in town and I asked him if he'd like to come round and see your new gym.”

“You did what!” Brian didn't sound very pleased as the fab four had fallen out with him when he had left their little gang many years ago, tired of their endless pranks, especially when he himself became the butt of their jokes.

“Well I thought it would be nice to have some company,” Carol explained patiently to her brother.

“Well their sort of company I can do without.” Brian stormed.

“Brian, don't be like that.” Carol was a bit angry with him now. Here she was trying to get some company for them and here he was rejecting it without even giving it a try. Like her, he wasn't all that keen on other people as he had felt let down by his then friends, the fab four.

He had been their mate, their pal and he had felt betrayed by them when they had played that practical joke involving the jam and his school bag. It had only been childhood high jinks but to him it had meant more, much more. It meant utter humiliation.

“Well Carol if you want to show Mike around the gym then you do it, only I won’t be here,” he informed her flatly.

“Okay, fine then!” Carol was finally asserting herself with her supposed brother and about time too. She had spent far too many years being regarded as a useless second best and she wanted some real company, not the imaginary kind, even if he didn't.

Brian couldn't believe what he had just heard. Was Carol finally standing up for herself even if it was just with him? In a way he was glad, as he had always felt that Clara, as he now thought of her, and not as his mother, had never given Carol the praise she deserved. He felt in a strange way proud of her. His little sis was growing up at last. He knew that Carol was not his real sister but Carol still did not know that he was not her real brother. Brian hadn't wanted to upset the status quo by telling

her. Plus he knew that if she found out, it would mean that she was the one who would inherit everything, and he would be left with nothing - as stipulated in the father’s new will, which he had stuffed into his jacket pocket to shred later. Everything was to be left to Carol, the daughter and rightful heir. .

So, when Saturday came it was only Carol who was there to greet Mike.

“I'm so sorry Mike but Brian’s had to go out,” she told him, secretly glad as she could have Mike all to herself.

“That's fine Carol, as long as I can see this fabulous new gym that everyone’s told me about.” Mike tried to dismiss her worries. Carol slowly led the way down the rather steep cellar stairs. “Down here,” she said.

“Wow!” was the only word Mike could think of to describe the gym room. It had everything. It had better equipment than several of the professional places he had been in over the years. “I’ve never seen anything like it Carol. Brian must have spent a fortune on this place.” His builder mates hadn't been exaggerating when they had said it was out of this world, and to be stuck away down in a cellar!

“Well he did get the builders in for some of the work but he did a lot of it himself.

Remember how my father was a builder, he taught him,” Carol explained shyly somewhat nervous of Mike now that she had him alone. She was maybe a grown woman in some respects but not all.

“Boy, oh boy, this is some place and hidden away down here too. No one would ever believe it if they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes!” Mike was awestruck by all the expensive equipment, some of which he had never seen before.

He picked up a dumb-bell and started to play with it gauging its weight. Putting it down again he made his way over to the exercise bike. It was state of the art too.

“How about going back upstairs and I’ll make us a coffee?” Carol suggested quietly. She wasn't all that keen on what she regarded as all these boy’s toys. “Just a minute Carol, just give me a minute to have a look.” Mike snapped sounding displeased. He didn't want to be separated from all this great stuff to go back upstairs for a cup of coffee with dowdy Carol. He didn’t realise it but with those few words and the manner in which they were said, he had just sealed his own fate.

Carol, having had enough of being ignored and treated like she was a fool all of her life finally snapped. Here was the man who, in her imaginary world, was going to save her from her drab existence, sweep her off her feet and lead her to a new life like Cinderella. However here in reality was her Prince Charming snapping at her, because she had had the audacity to ask him to come back upstairs with her to have a coffee. He would never say that he loved her, like the hero did in all those romantic novels that she had started reading since Clara’s death, she quickly realised. What had she been thinking? Her mother had been right. No one would ever love her or want her. Picking up the now discarded dumbbell she whacked Mike Lawler across the back of the head. He crumpled like a rag doll, his blood tracking its way across Brian's pristine floor, his skull cracked by the sheer force which Carol had hit him with.

Such was her hatred at that moment that it gave her the extra strength needed to kill. She stood back and admired her handwork. She felt no emotion and no regret.

Now the deed was done, she had no feelings at all, least of all guilt for having taken someone’s life.

CHAPTER FOUR

As all of this was unfolding down in Hornlea, MS nurse Simon Smith and his wife of just over six years, Fiona, were having another argument.

“You told me that you'd be on time, but you missed the whole of Katelin’s school play!” she screamed at him, her face turning slightly red with the rage she felt rising within her with each angry word.

“But Fe…" he called her by her pet name as it usually won her round, only this time it didn't seem to be working.

“Don't you ‘Fe’ me! How many times have you been late this year? I'll make it easy for you! Eleven! That’s how many! Eleven times I've waited around for you, worried sick in case you'd had an accident and then you’d turn up with that stupid lopsided grin on your face and that lame excuse, “I had to work late at the Rehab Centre!”

“Well I can't just walk out. If patients need me, they need me,” he tried to explain and defend himself.

Fiona Smith was having none of it. She had worked before her marriage but in nice, steady nine-to-five jobs and didn't see why her husband couldn't do the same and be home on time.

“I’m beginning to think you're having an affair!” She accused him.

“Don't be ridiculous Fe, you know you and Katelin are the only women in my life.” Simon shot back at her.

“Maybe we are, or maybe not.” She had her suspicions for some time now, and wasn't giving up on this line. She had convinced herself that her husband must be having an affair, with a certain nurse, Anjelica Moss to be exact, to be late so often. She had met Anjelica only the once at an MS lunch, but she looked the type who would have an affair without a second thought.

“Then there are all those trips you've been taking. Has she been going too?”

She screamed at him, the accusation clear in her voice. He always seemed to be going to one M.S. meeting or another.

“Fe there is no she.” Simon almost shouted back, but thought better of it.

“Well if there is, you mark my words if I find out there is, then I’m filing for a divorce!” She told him.

“Fiona what have I to do to convince you?” he asked quietly, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Try getting home at a reasonable time; that would be a start. Or would you have to leave your ‘little nurse’ all alone?” Fiona snarled. The accusations were flying fast and furious.

“Fiona, you knew that I was an MS nurse before you married me. Did you expect that I would have a normal nine to five job? If you did then maybe you should have taken your mother’s advice and married that bloke from the bank… what was his name, Bertie?”

“Bertram, as you well know! Maybe I should have, at least I’d have seen my husband occasionally!” Fiona Smith yelled.

The argument was going into overdrive.

“So, Simon, what are you going to do about this?” she shouted at him.

“Well if you mean give up my job then you can forget that!” Simon shouted back.

“Oh heaven forbid!” she rolled her eyes at him.

“Fe I can’t walk away. You should know better than most people that MS is such an unpredictable illness. I can’t walk away, you know that! People depend on me. They need to talk about things that worry them and how to cope with the symptoms.”

They were about to continue the arguing but a small voice was heard from the doorway.

“Mummy, daddy, please don't fight. It scares me.”

They turned to see their five year old daughter standing in her nightgown and bare feet clutching her ‘Mr Teddy’, a teddy bear almost as big as herself, which had been a fourth birthday present. They both looked at one another rather guiltily.

Katelin had obviously been woken by another of their rows and had come downstairs to intervene.

Scooping Katelin up in his arms Simon took her back upstairs to her bedroom, tucking her in and hoping she would go to sleep quickly.

“Why do you and mummy fight so often?” she asked him with all the innocence of a child.

Now how to answer that? Simon wondered. “It’s just something that grown up people do sometimes.” he tried, hoping that this would satisfy an enquiring five year old’s mind. It didn’t.

“Mummy’s not very happy is she daddy?” Katelin continued, determined to find out why her parents were always arguing. She'd also seen her mother crying one night when her daddy had been late getting home. Her mother hadn’t seen her as she’d crept back to bed.

“No I don’t suppose she is,” he admitted with a sigh.

“Why?” Ah, the curiosity of the innocent, he thought.

“Well because daddy has to work late so often,” he lied, hating himself for not being able to tell even his little daughter the truth. But Katelin was not to be put off with that. “But why do you work so late when you know it upsets Mummy?”

“Because some other people need me to be there that’s why.” Another lie. How many would he tell before admitting the truth, even to himself?

“They need you more than us?” Was there no end to Katelin’s questions?

“No, of course not lambkin, now shush, it’s time that you tried to get some sleep.”

He retreated to the doorway ready to put out the light, but she wasn’t finished.

“Daddy, please don’t leave us.” were Katelin’s last words before letting out an enormous yawn.

“Of course not, I’ll be here when you wake up in the morning. Now go to sleep.”

What had her mother been saying to the child to make her think that he would be the one who was leaving?

Katelin Smith turned over and hugged ‘Mr Teddy’, who took up half the bed.

Downstairs Fiona was waiting for him. “Well?” she asked.

“She’s asleep.”

“I don't mean Katelin, I mean us.”

“Fe I know you’re right and I should be home on time and home more often.

I'll try, I really will, I promise.” A promise which was to be broken in the not too distant future.

“Oh, I hope so Simon, because I meant what I said, nurse or no nurse I'll leave you and take Katelin with me if things don't change.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Brian had come back from his afternoon walk. He had deliberately stayed away for three full hours. Long enough he reckoned for Mike to have come and gone. He still couldn't believe that one of the four would actually want to spend time with his sister or him for that matter.

Carol was waiting for him in the hallway. The door to the cellar/gym stood slightly ajar.

“Well that’s one of the fab four who won’t be bothering us again.” she said, strangely calm.

“What do you mean?”

“He wanted to see your gym, only he was more interested in it than he was in me.”

“Carol what’s happened?” Brian knew that something had by the expression on his sister’s grinning face.

“Why not go down and see for yourself?” she said smugly, pulling the door further open.

Brian made his way down the stairs not sure what to expect. The door to the gym was slightly closed but a trickle of red oozed under it as if trying to escape whatever lay behind. Gingerly stepping over what he now recognised as blood, he made his way into the gym area. There he found Mike Lawler sprawled, unmoving on the floor. The bloodstained dumb-bell lay next to him where Carol had dropped it. He didn’t need to feel Mike’s pulse to know that he was dead. He could see that he wasn't breathing, plus he had lost copious amounts of blood from the head wound.

“Carol, what happened?” he asked her again, although he could clearly see.

“Oh, he was more interested in your ‘boy’s toys’ than in me.” She said it all so calmly and matter of factly that Brian looked at his sister. She was showing no emotion what-so-ever despite having an obviously dead body at her feet. One for which she was responsible for.

“You mean you did this?” he questioned her, strangely proud of his sister. Pride being the only emotion that he felt at that moment.

“Of course Brian dear, who else could have done it?” Her tone and manner seemed to have changed so completely from the shy, quiet girl he had known all his life and actually left a little over three hours ago, to this totally ‘in charge of the situation’ woman.

Brian stared at the body for a few minutes trying to work out what to do. “Did anyone else know that he was coming to visit?” he asked eventually.

“Not that I know of, I mean can you imagine any of the other fab four if he had told them he’d be coming to see me? They'd have laughed themselves silly.”

Brian had to admit that she was right. “Did anyone see him coming in to the house?”

Carol was playing with a locket that she had around her neck, twirling it around a finger, like you would a lock of hair. “Don’t think so. He came in the back way… so as no one would see him coming to see me.”

“Right, so as far as anyone knows, he never came here?”

“That’s right. The others were well out of hearing distance when he made the ‘arrangement’ to come.”

“Good. That’s one problem solved then, next one is what do we do with the body?” Brian seemed at a loss as usual as to what to do.

Carol on the other hand had all the answers and seemed to be more in charge of the situation than he was. “That’s easy we stick him under the patio.”

“Of course why didn't I think of that!” Brian, having discovered his new found passion for following in his father’s footsteps as a builder was always doing some repair or other around the house. The patio was the latest project. “We’ll have to be careful though, we don't want the Johansens from next door to find out.”

“Then we'll bury him at night.”

Carol was so matter of fact about the whole thing that Brian could hardly believe that this was still his ‘oh so quiet’ sister. What had happened to her?

That night as the next door neighbours, Josh and Amy Johansen, lay in bed they looked at one another.

It sounded as if a body was being dragged through next door’s hallway, which in fact it was.

“What in the world is Brian up to now?” Amy asked her husband of eight years.

“Don’t know.” Josh replied sleepily, annoyed at having been woken from a good dream. “It sounds like he’s dragging a body through the hall. Honestly I don’t know why we didn’t go back to Sweden after we were married, at least we’d have got some peace after their parents died, and yours moved to Devon to retire. No wonder they left you this place.”

“Well if I remember correctly you were the one who wanted to stay here. You said it had something to do with learning more about us.” Amy poked her husband jokingly on the arm. “ Not entirely correct, darling Amy.” He replied. “It had to do with learning more about you.” He drew his little blond haired wife into his arms and kissed her. Oh how he had come to love her a the days, the months and even the years had gone by.

Sometimes he even wondered how he had ever lived without her. He had dreaded the thought of leaving his native land if even for a short time when his headmaster

had suggested that some of the students from his school were eligible to become foreign exchange students, but now as Amy snuggled into him he thanked the man from the bottom of his heart. He couldn’t imagine a life without her now.

CHAPTER SIX

The next day Amy saw Brian just as he was going for his morning walk. This had become a regular occurrence lately, and he took his morning and afternoon constitutionals come rain or shine. Today looked like it was going to be bright and sunny.

“Good morning Brian.” She called as she opened her front door. She was going shopping and had her reusable bag with her. She was all for saving the environment and wouldn't use plastic carriers on principle.

He was at the end of the path that led to his gate but turned round. “Hello Amy.” he called back.

“Nice day. Going for your walk?” she asked, although she already knew that he was, but it was something to say. She made up on him and they started walking in the direction of the local supermarket.

“Yes, got to get out of the house for some fresh air.” He started to walk beside her.

“Carol not going with you?” Amy felt a little sorry for Brian’s sister. She didn’t seem to have much of a life and always seemed to be stuck in the house most days on her own. They didn't even have a pet to keep her company.

“She says she’s too tired again.” Brian answered with a shake of the head as if he didn’t know whether to believe his sister or not.

“When does she see the doctor again?” Amy asked as she knew Carol had been attending the doctor quite a lot recently.

“Oh, on Tuesday next week. She’s seeing some consultant. They’ve done a MRI scan to try and find out what the problem is. Maybe this doctor will get to the bottom of things.” He felt like adding ‘at last’ as Carol’s complaints seemed to have been going on for years, with no end in sight.

“Give her my best and tell her I hope things go well for her and they finally find out what’s wrong. She’s had a bad time of it hasn't she?”

“You can say that again.” He turned towards the Post Office.

“Brian, I um… “Amy was dying to know, but now that she was actually speaking to him, she wasn’t really sure just how to broach the subject, however she didn’t want him to escape before she found something out.

“Yes?” “The other night Josh and I we - um - were wondering what - er, well -what all the noise was about?”

“Noise, what noise Amy?” “Err, yes.” She was beginning to wish she had never started this, but her curiosity was getting the upper hand - again. “It must have been about ten thirty. Josh …”

She decided to blame her husband. “He…” she laughed as she tried to explain.

It now seemed a bit funny in the light of day. “He thought you were dragging a body through the hall! Woke him up and you know what he’s like when he doesn’t get his sleep.” She laughed again this time trying to cover her embarrassment of accusing her neighbour of dragging a body through his house.

Brian didn't seem in the least put out of being accused of dragging anything through his hallway in the middle of the night.

“Oh that, sorry, did I disturb you?” He apologised. “No real mystery. It was the builders’ fault. They delivered some bags of cement to the front door while I was out, and I had to move them when I got back home from my trip to the city.

You know, in case Carol would trip over them. You must have seen what her balance has been like recently. I didn’t get in till well after ten as the train was late.

It got held up with some problem on the rail track. I’d have left it till the morning if I’d thought I was going to disturb you”. He lied so convincingly.

Amy felt herself redden. She really had thought that there had been a body involved the night before, now she looked shamefaced at her neighbour. A body!

How could she have been so stupid!

Brian sensed her discomfort. “Not to worry Amy, I’ll let you know in plenty of time the next time I’m going to move a body!” He laughed at the idea but it made him realise that he was going to have to be a bit more careful. He knew now that they were going to have to keep Luke quiet too until they ‘disposed’ of him once they got him into the cellar.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Two weeks had passed and the fab four were now a not-so-fab three. None of them could figure out where Mike had gone. When he had twice failed to keep their usual Saturday rendezvous at one of the local watering holes, they had contacted the local police who had managed to persuade Mrs Giles, Mike’s landlady, to let them into his rooms. There they found the note. Brian had been busy, up all night one night writing the forgery.

“Sorry guys got the offer of some work in Holland. It was too good to miss, so I'm of tonight to catch the ferry to Zee something or other.” (Geography had never been his strong point, nor had spelling!) “See you guys soon!” It was signed simply ‘Mike.’

With those few words scrawled on the back of an envelope the mystery of the missing Mike was (supposedly) solved.

“Are you sure that this is his handwriting?” one of the policemen asked.

“Looks like it.” Jeremy said. “Always had a terrible scrawl when he had to write anything. Should have been a doctor.”

“Must be his, its written on the back of an old envelope, that was one of his favourite things that he’s done since we were kids. ‘Waste not want not,’ his mum always said,” Luke put in.

So they were all left at a loose end wondering what they could do now that one of their number had gone. It just didn’t seem the same without him.

It was Luke who was next on the Finlay’s hit list as they had now developed a penchant for murder.

Carol met Luke Sutton as he was walking his newly acquired puppy down on the shore. As they were the only people down on the beach at that time in the morning they had the whole place to themselves. No prying eyes to wonder why they were talking. Big Carol and skinny little Luke.

The walk down on the beach was something that Luke had done most mornings for months by himself so he was highly predictable.

Never having married or having a steady girlfriend he was nearly always alone.

Now however he seemed to have acquired the dog, a golden Labrador, to be exact, to walk with him.

“So Carol, what brings you down here at this unearthly hour?” he asked somewhat

surprised to meet the usually unenergetic Carol out walking alone.

“Oh, Luke!” She seemed near to tears. “It’s Brian. He's hurt himself doing all those work-outs in that gym of his. I had to carry him up to his bed last week and now the doctor says he’ll be virtually paralysed!” she sobbed. “I really don't know what I'm going to do as I can't manage him on my own, but will he let me get help in? No. ‘No way’, he says, yet he doesn’t realise how difficult it is for me to handle him alone. It’s like my mother all over again,” she sobbed. “He’s to go for tests tomorrow up in the city and I don't know how in the world I can get him ready in time for when the ambulance calls at eight.” She seemed almost hysterical with worry.

Although Luke had teased her mercilessly when they were children even he couldn't fail to be moved by her tale of woe.

“Look Carol, maybe I could help,” he offered. “What if I come round at seven and give you a hand to get him ready?” He, like the others, hadn’t seen Brian since the mother had died, and still thought of him as the little weakling he had been as a child - not realising that Brian’s workouts had increased body mass and muscle.

“Oh Luke could you? I'd be ever so grateful.” She sounded it too, but liars can be good… at times.

“There’s only one problem,” he said looking at the puppy, “Kelly here, I can’t leave her in the house without her walk, at that time of the morning.”

“No problem, bring her along.” Carol seemed a lot more cheerful with the prospect of getting help.

“Well if you don't mind Carol. Some people like dogs others don’t.”

Carol bent down and stroked the little dog, which seemed to have taken an instant shine to her, licking her hand. “See, friends already,” she smiled at the dog, who if it could have done the same would have returned the compliment.

The following morning Luke and Kelly did exactly the same thing Mike Lawler had, they made their way to the Finlay’s back door for the exact same reasons…

Luke didn’t want any of the town’s people seeing him entering the Finlay’s house.

They were still considered a bit odd even after the parent’s deaths, as they never mixed with other people or joined in any of the local activities.

Carol met him at the door. “Morning Luke, Brian’s not woken up yet. Why don't we have a coffee first then you can go up and get him ready?” she suggested.

“Lovely. Do you mind if I bring Kelly in?”

“No, bring her in, in fact I insist.” Carol held the door open for him and Kelly.

Luke sat down at the table while Kelly decided to explore all the corners in the kitchen as Carol busied herself making the coffee. She gave him a yellow mug taking a pink one for herself, which left the blue one. Obviously Brian’s.

Luke tasted the coffee. ‘Yeuk’, he almost said out loud but somehow managed to restrain himself. He swallowed what he could of the coffee not wanting to appear impolite. He looked across the table at Carol. She looked kind of odd, all out of

focus. He felt hot. “Is it warng in heer?” He heard himself say but it sounded like someone else’s voice, from far away, and he felt like he was in a sauna.

The kitchen door opened suddenly and Brian stood there. He was not the little weakling Luke remembered from school, now he looked toned and fit and had muscles. He walked across to the table completely unaided.

“Whart’s gorling on?” Luke said, trying to stand then realised that he couldn’t.

He fell on the floor vaguely seeing Carol and Brian smirking at him before he passed out.

Brian carried the unconscious Luke down to the cellar; it was no trouble to him since he had been working out. Kelly stood at the top of the stairs unsure of herself.

Maybe her master was going down there but she wasn’t. The animal had more sense.

“Good girl.” Carol told her stroking her. At least her malice wasn't extending itself to dumb animals.

“Carol leave that mutt alone and give me a hand here.” Brian snapped impatiently.

“Don't you talk to me like that Brian or I’ll call the police,” she threatened, laughing mockingly.

She made her way down to the room Brian had made to hold their persecutors.

It was a little windowless cell type of a room, with chains and manacles cemented into the walls. They chained the unconscious Luke to the wall then left him there, a piece of tape across his mouth.

“I’ll see to him to-morrow,” Carol announced, “once I've been to that MS place to see the consultant again.”

“Do you think that’s what’s wrong with you?” Brian asked, knowing little about the condition.

“We’ll see once I've seen this Dr Hollander.” Carol told him slamming the door shut on their prisoner.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Doctor Hollander showed Carol into his consulting room. “Come in Carol, and how are you feeling today?” He seemed so calm and friendly. ‘Well it can't be too serious.’ she thought to herself. Not when he’s being so upbeat about things’.

“Oh I’m not too bad today doctor.” Days always seemed to be slightly different, some good, some bad, she just never knew what to expect.

He had a folder in front of him, her medical notes, which he was studying.

“I’ve got the results of your MRI scan here Carol and I’m sorry to have to tell you this but it is what I suspected. It is MS.” He didn’t know how she was going to react as everyone reacted differently to the news that they had multiple sclerosis. Some took it in their stride, others cried, others got angry and aggressive.

“Why me?” “What have I done to deserve this?” “What is it?” “When do I end up in a wheelchair?” “How long have I got?” were some of the standard reactions he had encountered over the years. As to the ‘why me?’ there was no answer as to why some people contracted it and other didn’t, even in the same family. ‘Just your bad luck’, might be the answer to that one. ‘What is it?’ Well he could give her a brief run down on the history of the condition and plenty to read up on. ‘How long have I got?’ That could be a tricky one. It all depended on which type you had and how aggressive it was. William Hartnell, the first ‘Dr Who’ had had it and he had still been capable of working as an actor, yet Richard Prior, the American actor, had a very aggressive form and died quite young, as did the author J.K. Rowling’s mother. It wasn't thought of as a strange and mysterious illness for nothing.

However none of the usual reactions fitted Carol. She sat there totally unmoved by what had just been said. Hollander had expected tears at the very least.

“Are you all right Carol? Is your brother here with you?” he asked, concerned by the way she seemed to have switched off from reality, and was now watching someone feed a few birds that haunted the Centre grounds.

“No, Brian’s at home with Kelly.”

“Kelly?”

“Oh she's a puppy that Brian got me for company and you know how destructive puppies can be if they're left on their own too long!” She laughed, amused at the thought of the dog chewing up the old furniture and fittings. They could always

afford new ones and about time too, as all the stuff they had was their parents and slightly old fashioned.

‘Ah’. Thought Hollander. ‘She’s in denial.’ “Carol, would it help if you had someone to talk things over with a professional?” he offered. “We have a very good psychologist at the Rehab Centre, Dr Annie Rhogash.”

“A ‘shrink!’ ” Carol was mortified at the thought.

“No Carol, not a shrink,” he hated using the word as Annie Rhogash was a colleague, a professional like him, “just someone who could help you come to terms with all the changes that the MS could bring to your life.”

“Oh well, if you think it would help seeing this woman.” she relented slightly.

“You will of course see one of our MS nurses, probably Tony Barclay as Simon Smith, our other MS nurse, is off work for a few weeks. Anyway Tony should be able to help you, answer any questions you might have.”

‘Tony’, thought Carol. ‘What a lovely name’, wonder what he’s like? More to the point wonder if he’s married?’ Despite having Luke chained up in her cellar and having ‘plans’ for Jeremy and John, Carol wasn’t about to let a little thing like the murder of Mike and the planned murders of the other two get in the way of her imaginary happiness. Deep down she already knew that none of the three that remained of the fab four would ever say that they loved her, but boy oh boy was she going to have fun making them think that that was all they had to do to escape from her and Brian.

Dr Hollander of course knew nothing of this. Like Tony, he would do what he could to help her come through some possibly difficult times ahead with the MS. He knew that she would be classified as having the relapsing/remitting version at the moment, but as time progressed who knew what type it would become, perhaps changing to secondary progressive, or maybe not, that was the trouble, no one knew for certain what MS would do given time.

CHAPTER NINE

Down in the cellar , Luke had come to and wondered where he was. He tried moving but found that he was chained to the wall. He tried to call out but no sound came but a muffled “mmph” as a gag did its work. What was going on? he wondered groggily and then it started to come back to him.

Carol and that rotten coffee! She must have drugged him! Dowdy little Carol, that witch! If he could just get his hands on her! He struggled against his constraints but it was no use he couldn’t move. What are this odd pair up to? If he ever got out of here…! It came as a shock to him that he had thought ‘if’ and not ‘when’.

He must have sat there for hours, the loneliness and helplessness cutting into him like a knife. What, he wondered, would happen if he didn't get out of here? Who, he wondered, had he told that he was coming to see Carol and Brian?

The sudden realisation that he had, in fact, told no one, hit him like a two ton truck.

No one knew where he was! He was on his own and at their mercy. They could do anything!

What were they going to do to him? He suddenly felt physically sick but knew that he couldn’t be because of the gag.

Then he heard it. The sound of whining! Kelly! His little dog! She knew and she was obviously trying to get to her master! He tried to call out to her but the only sound that came from his mouth was ‘Krry.’

Suddenly bolts were scraped back and Carol stood in the doorway grinning.

“Well, well not such a big man now are you Luke? Especially as your ‘little mates’ aren’t here to back you up and help you!”

“Crl wrt yo wnt?” he tried to ask. It sounded silly the words half obscured by the gag.

She made a show of putting a hand to her ear. “What did you say Luke? I can’t hear you?” she mocked.

“Grt ts gg ff m.”

“Oh you want the gag removed! Why didn't you say so?” She stood aside to let Brian enter the room. He came in and had just about removed the gag when a thought seemed to strike him.

“What if he tries to cry out for help?.” He looked at his sister.

“Oh I don't think he’ll do that.” Carol held up a hammer. “If he does then…”

She held it above Luke menacingly. The inference was clear. She’d silence him for good. One blow and it was ‘goodnight Vienna.’ Luke took the hint rather than being hit on the head and somehow managed to remain silent as Brian yanked off the gag none too gently.

“Carol what do you want from me?” he asked quietly now able to speak.

“What do I want Luke? What I want is for you to say that you love me.

That's what” “Are you crazy or what Carol? Brian, tell her, how can I say that I love her?

She’s got me chained up here like some kind of animal and she wants me to say I love her! Get real Carol.”

“I am getting real Luke. I've known ever since secondary school that you loved me.” In the make believe world she had invented for herself he did. Everybody did.

“Say it Luke, say it!” Her voice was rising with hysteria.

“Don't be so stupid Carol, get me out of these chains, let me go and I won't tell anyone what you’ve done,” he offered, pleading.

“Let you go! Now who's being crazy Luke?” she spat at him her mood changing abruptly.

He looked up at her and in those brief seconds Luke Sutton knew that this demented woman would never let him go. Tears ran down his cheeks at the thought of never seeing his little dog again as realisation took hold. Kelly was the only one true friend Luke felt that he had ever had as he had never married, never even come close. What would happen to her? In an attempt to save his life he did say the words ‘I love you Carol,’ but it was too late. Carol knew the truth. He didn't love her and she, by now, didn't love him either in the real or her make-believe world. She now considered him to be a hopeless weakling.

That night Brian again returned to the cellar. He had a syringe and a small bottle in his hands. He filled the syringe and finding one of Luke’s veins in his arm injected him with something. The gag was now back in place so Luke could only mouth his objections. “Mm mph,” was all the gag allowed him to say.

“Not to worry Luke, it’s just something to make you sleep.” Brian told him.

What he didn’t add was the word ‘forever’. After he had injected Luke Brian went back upstairs to Carol.

“Good thing we kept some of mother's insulin,” he said, “I'll bet it’s the only time anyone’s been thankful of diabetes.”

That same night the Johansens were again awoken from their sleep. This time it was by the howling of a dog. It sounded young like a pup in search of its mother, and the noise was coming from next door.

“What now?” Josh asked Amy a bit sleepily. “Weren’t they content with all the racket we had to suffer while the renovations were going on? Now they’ve brought

in the “dog squad.”?” He was even amazed at himself for being able to joke about things at a time like this as he still felt half asleep.

“Sounds like a young dog.”

“My, oh my, how did I miss that it’s a dog?” Josh asked her a bit sarcastically.

“I know it’s a dog, correction a pup, but whose?”

“Perhaps it’s Carol and Brian’s. Maybe they've got themselves a puppy. Sounds like something young anyway.”

“That’s real nice, good for them,” Josh muttered sarcastically, “but are we ever going to get a good night’s sleep in this place?” He asked turning over and putting the pillow over his head to try and block out the noise. It didn’t help much, but it did prevent him seeing Amy stick out her tongue at him and mouth the words ‘Mr Grumpy’.

CHAPTER TEN

Simon was home on time. Fiona couldn't believe it. She checked her look in the mirror. Tall and elegant, she knew she often out-shone her husband. She would be thirty-four in two days time and Simon was taking her out for a celebration meal.

She knew heads would turn as the other diners sneaked sly glances at the glamorous woman accompanying the rather short, non-distinct man by her side to their table.

She was taller than her husband and always wore flat shoes so as not to accentuate the fact. She looked like a film star when she wore make up, but nowadays she seldom bothered, as she had Katelin to look after and a house to run.

Simon, on the other hand, did not look like the archetypical leading man in a romantic film. Only Fiona never saw them both like that. To her Simon was her leading man and always would be. They say that love is blind and in this case it was. She would love him no matter how he looked. If only he would come home on time more often and leave the unknown nurse alone! It must be Anjelica, Fiona reasoned, as she was a well known man eater. ‘How could perfection beat a well known trollop?’ Fiona Smith wondered idly. She sighed. They could go as soon as the babysitter arrived. Simon came into their front room trying unsuccessfully to hide a bouquet of red roses behind his back.

“For one of my special girls,” he said presenting them to her. Then seeing Fiona’s perplexed expression quickly added: “The other one being my daughter.”

On the flowers was a little tag. ‘Go to Caraways - something awaits your attention,’ it read. Caraways was the most expensive jewellers in the town. What had Simon been up to to have such a guilty conscience? Fiona wondered. Shaking her head she tried to dismiss the thought. This was more like the Simon that she knew, had fallen in love with and married. He had always been so romantic. Even when Katelin had been born he had festooned the hospital room with flowers.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Just a few more minutes until Betty arrives.” Betty was their babysitter.

“I'll just check on Katie first.” Fiona went upstairs to find their daughter sleeping peacefully. She made her way back down to find Simon busy texting someone on his phone. He didn't hear her coming so jumped when she walked into the room.

“Who was that you were texting? Not the hospital, I hope, not tonight Simon.”

“Oh it’s nothing just checking on a patient.” He replied just feeling slightly guilty at not telling his wife the whole truth. He felt he was getting good at this lying business.

“Can you never leave work alone?” Fiona was a little put out. This was supposed to be their night after all.

“It only took a minute Fe. After all, we can’t go till Betty gets here.” He knew she couldn't argue with that.

She began to wonder if it really was work or maybe it wasn’t. Her suspicions were running amok again by the way he had reacted to her question.

The doorbell rang, “Sorry Mrs Smith didn't mean to hold you up,” a woman's voice said. Betty had arrived so now they could go and enjoy their meal.

They arrived at Cavalieros restaurant a little after eight. Their table was waiting for them. Everything seemed so romantic, even down to the music. It was their song that was being played by the band. ‘Lady in Red’ by Chris DeBurgh, which described Fiona to a ‘T’ in her lovely red dress bought especially for the occasion. Simon stood up and offered his wife his hand. “Dance with me?” he asked, holding out his hand. She gladly accepted.

The night went by as if in a dream. Fiona was so happy, she felt that she had her husband back, but like Cinderella, it all had to end and as they made their way back to their car from the restaurant Simon's pager sounded.

“Leave it.” Fiona said but of course he couldn't.

“It’s the hospital,” he said, “I have to go in.”

“Can’t Tony deal with it?” Fiona was angry. Couldn’t that place leave him alone for just one night?

“Well the message was for me. Doubt something has come up because Tony knew I wanted tonight off to celebrate your birthday. They wouldn't have called if it wasn't an emergency. Tony said he’d cover for me, said I was due a night or two off.”

Fiona just about exploded. It had been such a lovely evening, so romantic and now to have it all spoilt! She stormed off down the street heels clacking on the cobblestones.

“Where are you going?” Simon called after her.

“To get a taxi home!” she yelled back at him. “Go to your precious hospital, but remember I might not be here when you get back!”

A smile crept across Simon’s face. He got his mobile out of his jacket pocket and sent a text ‘See you in twenty minutes…..Anjel.’ He got in his car and drove off to meet… Anjelica Moss.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

So that was two of the fab four taken care of. Now, for the other two. Luke was buried under the greenhouse on a day that the Johansens had conveniently decided to go on a shopping trip to the city, so Brian was not overlooked as he dragged his ‘bundle’ out of the house and dumped it unceremoniously in to a freshly dug hole.

“Well they do say that blood and bone are good for growing plants!” He laughed at the irony.

When the Johansens returned loaded down with Amy's ‘must have’ purchases the dog was still howling.

“How long is that racket going to go on for?” Josh wondered aloud just as Brian emerged from the house with Kelly. He wondered if Brian had overheard him but he made no mention of the fact if he had.

“Got yourself a dog then?” Josh asked a bit unnecessarily. The pooch seemed reluctant to move from the doorway for some reason and had sat down.

“It was supposed to be for Carol. I thought it might give her some company and an interest in life now that they've finally discovered what’s wrong with her,” he replied pulling at poor Kelly’s lead to try and coax her out of the house.

She wouldn’t budge, no matter how much Brian tried to get her to move.

“Come on Nelly, walkies.” It all fell on golden haired deaf ears “Oh what is wrong with Carol?” Amy asked, always the curious one.

“MS,” Brian replied flatly, as though it were a death sentence.

Amy did her best to sound sympathetic. She didn't know much about the condition but it seemed the appropriate thing to say under the circumstances.

“Oh it’s not that bad,” Brian informed them, equally ignorant of the condition.

“The consultant said it was the relapsing/remitting kind, that's the one that they can apparently get drugs for, to help the relapses be less severe… or so some people say.” He didn't sound very convinced.

“So what's going to happen now?” Amy persisted totally ignoring her husband’s attempts to get away from Brian. He wanted to get in, get his shoes off and have a nice cuppa, not stand out here gossiping with one of the neighbours.

“What do you mean?” Brian asked.

“Well, will you be staying or moving to a more suitable place?”

“Oh you mean like a house all on the flat? We haven't really discussed it yet but I think we’ll just stay here. I mean I've done so much about the place to just leave.”

‘Great,’ thought Josh, remembering all the thumping and banging as the renovations were going on down in the cellar. ‘Hope he doesn’t do any more handyman work.’

“Oh well if there's anything we can do to help,” Amy offered.

Brian had to struggle to keep a straight face. He felt like saying ‘How about digging a nice big hole for Jeremy and John’ but instead said; “Thanks Amy but I think we’ll manage.”

“Oh well, if you’re sure. Anyway you know where we are if you need us.”

“Right, thanks for the offer. Well, I'd better get this pooch for its walk… if it’ll ever go that is. Come on Nelly.” Again a harsh pull on the lead. Nelly/Kelly eventually thought the better of all this and ventured tentatively out of the door.

“Looks like your little dog might have agoraphobia.” Josh remarked to Brian.

“She’s not usually this bad. Don't know what's wrong with her. Come on or you'll be going on a trip to the cat and dog home.” Brian threatened. That did the trick. Nelly/Kelly obviously understood ‘cat and dog home’ only too well and was off like a shot not even looking back at Brian, who was now holding her back.

“You sure she’s not part greyhound?” Josh laughed at the dog’s antics.

Brian only smiled, as he had no idea of Nelly/Kelly’s parentage.

“She must be a sister to Luke Sutton's dog.” Amy called after him as Nelly/Kelly braked hard at a lamppost.

Brian nearly panicked. “Why do you say that?” he called back to them.

“Well I met him one day while we were at the shops and he was saying how badly behaved his dog Kelly was. She was only a pup like yours though. Still at the learning stage of how to behave herself.” Amy stuck up for the little dog. “Where did you get Nelly anyway?”

Brian had to think quickly. “Got her from the ‘Kindly Care’ cat and dog home,” he lied. Well how could he tell them the truth that he had murdered Kelly’s master and been left with her as a legacy? They wouldn't have believed him anyway, things like murders didn't happen in quiet little streets, did they? So why bother.

“Well there you go.” Josh put in. “Bet Luke's got rid of her and now you’ve got her. He had nearly hit the nail on the head where poor Kelly was concerned.

“Well any more howling tonight and back she goes. I’ll get Carol a cat or a budgie.” Brian threatened “Thank the Lord.” Josh thought.

Brian took off after the little pooch who by now had decided she needed to go for a walk. Josh made his way inside turning briefly to see his wife still standing on the doorstep watching Brian and the dog disappear round the corner.

“Not coming in then?” he asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I just thought it was a bit odd that Luke got his dog from the ‘Kindly Care’ cat and dog home and suddenly Brian gets a very similar one. You could almost say it was the same dog. Even the name's similar Nelly - Kelly. What are the chances of that happening? 2000 - 1?”

“Don't know and frankly I don't care. All I do care about at this precise moment is getting a nice cuppa. Are you making it or will I?” he asked hopeful that she would.

“Oh I think you should. ” Amy replied. “After all look at all those shops you made me go in to!” she joked. It was she who had dragged her husband around all the sales and being a man, he hadn't enjoyed one single minute of it, least of all when he knew he was the one who was going to get all the bills.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Simon came home the following afternoon to an eerily quiet house. Katelin was usually home from school by this time and should be running, a little bundle of excited fun, to greet her daddy. There was no sign. He opened the door and went in. Not a sound greeted him. Normally Fiona would have the radio or TV on just for company, but today deathly silence filled the house. What was going on?

“Fe, Katie!” he called. No answer.

He made his way upstairs, in a way scared of what he was going to find.

He looked in his daughter’s bedroom first then rushed to the master bedroom.

It was the same in both. Everything that meant anything to either his wife or his daughter had gone. Coat hangers hung forlornly in the wardrobe denuded of all vestige of female clothing. His clothes hung alone and lonely looking in the now spacious wardrobe.

“NO!” He moaned as he sank to his knees. How could he have been so stupid? he wondered.

He had had a lovely wife and a beautiful little girl, but where had they gone?

Had he really thrown away 6 years of marriage for a few illicit nights of passion with Anjelica?

Coming slightly to his senses he rushed back downstairs to the kitchen. Maybe Fe had left him a message on the notepad where they always left important messages for each other, if either was out before the other got home. Sure enough there was a note.

‘You wouldn't listen would you Si? I phoned the Centre last night and there was no emergency. The night staff hadn’t seen you or Anjelica all night. Well she’s no angel, lover! You can have her, she’s your life now. It’s what you chose over us.

Don't try to find Katelin or me… because you won’t.” It was signed simply, Fe. Simon Smith felt as if his heart had been ripped from him. Had he really lost them?

Tears welled up in his eyes then streamed unashamedly down his face.

“Fiona” he moaned. “What have I done? How could I put that tart before you and Katie?”

The phone suddenly rang saving him from any further self-recrimination.

He picked it up. It was Tony Barclay his colleague from the Centre.

“Hello?” Simon tried to speak into the receiver but his voice sounded choked as he tried to speak.

“Simon? Is that you? What’s wrong?” Tony could tell by Simon’s tone that something definitely was.

“It’s Fe. She’s left me and taken Katie with her,” was all he managed, before sobs racked his now guilty body. He didn't care if it wasn't manly to cry or not, it was how he felt.

“Simon what’s happened? Has there been an accident?” It was the first thought that crossed Tony’s mind.

“Yeah, in a way, if you count me as the accident! Tony what have I done!” he cried in self pity.

“Simon calm down. Tell me what’s happened.” Tony was now getting concerned by the tone of his friend’s voice. Had there really been an accident?

Were Fiona and Katie alright?

“They've gone! Oh my girls.” Simon’s voice was going up to hysteria as the realisation of losing both of them really started to sink in.

“Simon, I’m coming over. I'll only be half an hour,” Tony instructed, “Stay there.” In a way he was just relieved to know that they were still alive. It was clear that his friend needed him to talk to. He would have to try and talk some sort of sense into him, but first of all he would have to get him to calm down. In this state there was no saying what he might do.

Tony put the phone down and was off at a run just as Sandra, one of the secretaries, was coming round a corner with a bundle of paperwork in her arms.

They collided and papers went everywhere like oversized pieces of confetti.

“Tony!” She was startled and a bit angry that he had destroyed a day’s work.

She had spent all morning trying to sort all these papers into alphabetical order and now he had in two seconds flat ruined it all.

“Sorry Sandra can’t stop. If anyone wants me, I’m out on calls.” With that he raced for his car and drove off at tyre squealing speed.

“Well!” Not knowing the circumstances, Sandra was incensed.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

So now it was to be Jeremy’s turn for Carol and Brian’s undivided attention, but Mike and Luke’s absence from work began to bother their workmates. Mike could never hold down a job for a few months at a time but what of Luke?

“Seems strange that Mike would go all the way to Zeebrugge to get work.

There’s surely something that he could have done on this side of the water,” one of them said shaking his head in disbelief that Mike would go so far away to get a job, leaving his pals behind without even a word of goodbye.

“Yup, you’d think so. After all, he didn't have to be an electrician; he could have gotten something else,” another added.

“Yeah, he was always the lucky one where work was concerned. Don’t mean that he would have worked in an office or nothin’, but there must have been something at the Job Centre that he could have found.” This from another of his drinking buddies. “Could have set up for himself. There are always lots of little old ladies who need a reasonable priced electrician even in today's recession!”

“Yeah and not so little old ones either!” Another added with a smirk. They all erupted in loud guffaws as Mike Lawler had always had the good looks that had almost found him in trouble with several husbands over the years.

“Say, has anyone seen our Luke lately?” someone asked.

There was much head shaking and no one spoke for a few minutes as they all tried to remember the last time they had seen Luke Sutton.

No one could.

Carol was busy making a desperate phone call to plumber Jeremy Timpson.

“Oh Jeremy thank goodness I managed to get you!” she sounded despondent.

“Brian's away and the pipes in the cellar have burst! All his nice new gym stuff is down there and it’s going to get ruined. I don’t know what to do because I can’t move it on my own!” she wailed.

“It’s ok Carol, don’t panic, I'll be there in about a quarter of an hour. I’m up at Millhousehouse Farm so I won’t be long.” He too had forgotten all about school and how the fab four used to tease poor Carol and call her names. Now to him, she was just another customer in need of assistance. It was nearly dinner time and he usually went home for a bite to eat but by the sound of it Carol was in dire need of help.

He decided he had better call the ‘other half’ and let her know he'd be late. He tried his home number but no one answered, then he remembered it was Julie’s day for her anti-natal clinic. This was to be their fifth child together.

Carol met him at the door wringing her hands in agitation. A puppy danced around her feet.

“Oh thank goodness! Brian had to pick this week to go away didn’t he?” she cried.

“Right, so where exactly are these burst pipes Carol?” Jeremy was all business, and hungry too. He wanted his dinner.

“Oh, down there in the cellar.” She held the door open for him. “Brian made part of it into a gym, but didn't get any of the old pipes replaced, silly man.” She showed Jeremy to the top of the stairs but didn’t make any attempt to venture down herself. “You definitely can’t miss the mess!” She managed a little laugh clearly relieved that a plumber was here to sort out the problem.

Carefully Jeremy made his way down and saw the wetness coming under what he presumed to be the gym door. It didn’t look too bad to someone with his experience of burst pipes. He pushed the door open slightly and wondered where the water was coming from. It certainly didn't sound as if there was a burst pipe.

None of the tell-tale dripping noises. He ventured further into the room and saw that it was indeed a gym, a very state of the art one at that too. What he didn’t see, or hear, was Brian sneaking up behind him.

This time it was Brian’s turn to hit someone over the head. Only he didn’t kill his victim, merely rendered him unconscious. Jeremy went down like a stone. Like his ‘sister’ Brian felt no emotion at what he had just done. He too had no feelings for other people, no empathy, and no sympathy. To him Jeremy was just like a sack of cement that had to be dragged into the little storage room to be chained to the wall until he woke up. Then it would be time for the excitement and enjoyment that both he and Carol shared watching Jeremy suffer as he was tricked into thinking that he was going to get out of the little cell alive.

Brian returned to his gym and picking up the mop proceeded to dry the floor.

Placing the upturned bucket which had held the water, out of the way, he marvelled at how easy it had been to fool a trained plumber that there had been a burst pipe.

Jeremy had expected water so he had seen water. What he didn't know of course, was that Brian had only minutes before spilled the pail of water under the door to look like water was seeping from the gym area.

“Now we’d better get that little dog to the cat and dog home.” Brian said as he joined his sister upstairs again.

In a way Carol did feel a little sad at losing Kelly, but as she was barking nearly all night and scratching at the doors as she tried to find her real master, Carol knew it was for the best. For the first time Carol actually felt something akin to compassion albeit for a little dog.

Julie Timpson returned home expecting to find her husband waiting for his lunch.

He wasn't there. She then went to her next door neighbour, Maria, to pick up her pre-school brood and make lunch. Only the twins were of school age and would be fed there. She made some food for herself and the little ones. The time ticked by. Still no sign of Jeremy. At ten to five with still no sign or word from her husband, which in its self seemed a bit strange, she rang Grant Osborne at Millhouse Farm.

“Oh hello, Mr Osborne, could I speak to my husband please?” she asked.

“Well if he was here you could.” Grant Osborne didn’t sound happy. “Don’t like people who walk out in the middle of a job,” he informed her gruffly.

“What do you mean? Wasn’t he with you all day?” She was sure he’d said he’d be up at Milhouse most of the day.

“Nope, left about dinner time, never came back.”

“What?” Julie was by now getting seriously worried, which wasn’t good for her as she was nearing her time, and the doctors had already warned her to avoid as much stress as possible.

“Thought he had come home to you, it being near your time an’ all.” The old farmer knew that she was expecting… again.

Julie was confused. He had told her that he would be working up at the farm all day, but would be home for lunch just to keep an eye on her. What had happened to her husband? Had he been in an accident? She decided to ring the police. They informed her that no accidents had been reported on the stretch of road her husband would have travelled.

“I’m sorry madam but he has to be missing for twenty four hours before we can do anything,” the duty sergeant informed her.

“But I’m expecting our fifth child; he wouldn’t just go off like this, sergeant.”

She tried to explain, but it was no use. She had to wait the twenty four hours before he was classified as a missing person.

Jeremy Timpson came to with a sore head. Where was he? He tried to move but found that he couldn’t, there were chains around his wrists and around his middle.

‘What on earth…?’ he wondered groggily, then he remembered Carol and the burst pipes. He looked up towards the illumination and the light hurt his eyes. It was only a low-wattage bulb, but to him with his sore head it seemed extremely bright.

He had his eyes closed when he heard the door open. Carol and Brian stood there in the doorway. He tried to speak but something prevented him doing so. For the first time he realised that he was gagged.

Brian came into the room first. He knelt down beside Jeremy. “Don't try calling out Jeremy, no one will hear you,” he said as he removed the gag.

“What…” Jeremy's voice sounded strange even to his own ears after the gag was removed, as his mouth was dry.

“Not such a big man now are we Jeremy? Need your little friends to back you

up? Well guess what? Two of them are already here.” Carol informed him with a wicked smile.

‘Oh good,’ thought Jeremy, ‘it’s some kind of practical joke.’ The fab four were always doing things like this… only to other people and they never caused them physical pain. He was waiting on them popping their heads round the door yelling ‘Gotya’. Only they didn’t. So, who had whacked him he wondered, and why?

Just wait till he got his hands on the culprit! He’d give them a sore head! He was blissfully unaware of the danger he was actually in.

“Well are you going to admit it?” Carol asked looking down at him.

“Admit what?” Jeremy asked looking up at her. What did she want him to say?

What did he have to admit to? What had he done? He couldn't think of anything offhand.

“Oh stop it Jeremy, you know what I mean.”

“Carol I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. Now come on guys get me out of this, you’ve had your fun.” He really still thought that some of the other ‘four’ - who were now down to two since Mike's departure to find work abroad - were having a laugh at his expense.

“See.” She said to Brian. ”I told you none of them would actually admit it.”

Jeremy was getting exasperated. “Carol what are you on about?”

“Jeremy Timpson!” she said in mock exasperation, “Admit it. You’ve been in love with me ever since secondary school.” In her warped make believe little world he had been, and still was. Having to keep it secret from the other three lest they kid him on and have a good laugh, but love her he did. She was so sure.

“Carol don't be silly. I’m married! I’ve got four kids with another on the way.

How could I be in love with you?” Could she really be so stupid? he wondered.

Apparently so.

“Oh I knew you’d deny it, but don’t worry, we won't tell Julie until you’ve seen the lawyer,” she continued with her charade.

“Seen the lawyer? What lawyer? What are you on about now Carol?”

“For the divorce of course, and she can keep all those snivelling little brats.

I don't want them; they’re not yours and mine. After we’re married we can have our own little ones. Won’t that be nice Jeremy?” She smiled. It was not a smile that he liked - it had an evil tinge to it.

“Carol you're crazy! Do you seriously think that I’d leave Julie for you?”

“Oh Jeremy! You can still be as hurtful as you were in primary school. Why can’t you say that you love me.”

“Because I don’t, that's why.” Jeremy shouted at her. How could she think such a thing after all of this time? He’d never led her on in any way. Never made advances, never chatted her up. In fact he had had very little to do with her in secondary school. He didn’t even like her all that much. The others had been right when they had christened her ‘crazy Carol’ amongst other things. Now he could

could see that it was true. If the truth be told, it scared him a little.

“You can be so silly at times Jeremy, just like Luke was”` He picked up on this. “What do you mean ‘like Luke was?’ ” What had happened to little Luke? Had they done this to him as well?

“We gave him his chance too but he wouldn’t take it either, denied everything, so we just had to ‘dispose’ of him, didn’t we Brian?” She looked across at her brother who stood beside the door, the only way out of this place...

Jeremy looked up at Brian. He was hoping for some sort of help but one look told him that he was as crazy as his sister; he would get no help there. “What do you mean ‘dispose of ‘?” Jeremy asked; although he already had a very uneasy feeling about what he answer was going to be.

Carol gave him a big wide smile before actually answering. “You know Jeremy, the way you put a dog out of its misery.” She laughed a chilling laugh.

“No Carol you can’t!” Jeremy cried.

“Oh but I can Jeremy,” she assured him, “what is it that they say… ‘practice makes perfect’”.

“But what about my wife, and my children!” he wailed, tears starting to run down his face at the thought of never seeing Julie and the children again. Never knowing whither his next child was going to be the much longed-for son, to carry on the Timpson name, as his other four were all girls and he was beginning to feel a bit outnumbered by the female sex. It had been Julie’s choice not to know whither she was going to have a boy or girl until it was born.

Like Luke, Brian paid Jeremy a visit that night. He crammed poor Jeremy’s mouth full of peanuts, holding his hands over his nose and mouth. “Come on Jeremy… eat the nice peanuts… chew,” he told him, knowing full well that Jeremy had had a peanut allergy since childhood. One peanut could kill him but he had no choice but to chew and swallow as his lungs were bursting for air. It was either chew or suffocate. It would be his last breath one way or the other. He chewed.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Tony arrived at Simon's house just shortly after five. Despite driving as fast as he could, without breaking the speed limit, he just couldn’t make it any quicker.

The traffic had been horrendous thanks to multiple road works and numerous traffic lights which all seemed to turn to red the moment they knew he was coming.

It was the one time that he wished he had had a flashing blue light to stick on the car’s rooftop, then he could have run the red lights without fear of prosecution.

He also had to contend with the start of the tea time traffic. More delays.

“Get out of the way!” he almost yelled out of the car’s window at several slow driving motorists. Then he got stuck behind a tractor. “Of all the times…” he almost swore.

Eventually he got there and was surprised to see the house all in darkness. There should have been a light on somewhere. Was Simon at home? He made his way to the front door and rang the bell. It took some time but eventually Simon did answer.

“Tony I’m glad to see you.” His voice sounded flat and devoid of any emotion.

It was just like how his spirit felt. Flat and empty.

“Simon what’s happened?” Tony made his way past his friend and colleague into the dim hall. No lights were on at all, Simon preferring the gloom, which suited his mood at that moment.

Tony switched on the hall light trying to brighten things, and so as not to trip over any of Katelin’s toys, which were usually strewn about the place, despite Fiona’s valiant efforts to keep the place clear. Not a toy was in sight which was unusual in itself. What was going on here?

“Oh Tony I’ve lost them… they’ve gone!”

“Gone? Gone where?” It didn’t make sense.

“Fe, she’s left me and taken Katelin with her.” Simon explained all in a rush.

Tony was just relieved to know that they were still alive. He hadn’t known what to expect by Simon’s tone of voice on the phone and had imagined the worst.

“So what brought all this on?” he asked his friend, as he had no idea that Simon and Fiona were having marital problems or that Anjelica Moss was involved.

Like most people Simon hadn’t wanted to admit that things had become as bad as they had.

“It’s all my stupid fault, Tony. I was going out with Anjelica Moss behind Fe’s back, only she found out. She had warned me but I thought I was being so clever, I thought she’d never know and I could have them both. I’m not like you Tony and I guess I was a bit flattered that someone like Anjelica would have anything to do with me.” He knew it sounded lame but he still tried to justify his selfish behaviour.

“What do you mean ‘you’re not like me’?” Tony asked. Well, what exactly did he mean by a remark like that? Despite being divorced from Serena for three, no, nearly four years now, Tony didn’t play the field and had never cheated on her once when they had been married. Their divorce had been by mutual consent as each had put their careers first. Some people wondered why they had even married in the first place but it had seemed the right thing to do at the time. They had grown up together, gone to Uni together and just sort of fallen into marriage as it was what their parents had expected of them. After several years they realised that they were not really compatible and had just drifted apart.

“Well I’ve noticed the way all the nurses look at you; they seem to think that now you’re divorced that they're in with a chance,” Simon explained, “they virtually worship you.” he added.

“Well they’d better think again Simon. If I meet someone that I like, I'll let her know first, believe me.”

“Yes, but it must be nice to have all these females throwing themselves at you and to look like you do.”

Tony was tall, dark haired and had what many people considered handsome film star looks. People had often told him that he could have gone in for acting as he certainly had the appearance for being the leading man. Simon on the other hand was a good foot shorter, with mousy brown hair which had started to go grey at the temples. Being someone that lots of females would find attractive was something he knew nothing about. That was why he had been so flattered when Fiona O’Leary had started to show an interest in him seven years ago and then married him. She was what would be called a ‘stunner’, a real ‘looker’. Then Anjelica began to show him some affection while he was having monetary problems with Fe, as she had maxed out her credit card several times. It had caused numerous arguments. So it was flattering to be wanted by two females at the same time albeit for exactly the same reasons - what he could buy them - but Simon hadn’t yet cottoned on to the fact that Anjelica was using him for her own selfish reasons, whereas Fiona really did love him first and foremost and the things she bought were mainly for the house or for their daughter.

“You’d think it would be OK to look like this,” Tony told him, “but sometimes it can have its drawbacks. Anyway, you’ve no idea where Fiona could have gone?”

“Not a clue. As you maybe know her parents are dead and she’s never talked about any other family so I haven’t a clue.”

“Girlfriends then…. work colleagues?”

“She’s never talked about anyone.”

Tony thought it a bit strange that she had never mentioned anyone at all.

“Since her parents were killed in that car accident three years ago she’s just dedicated herself to the house and raising Katelin.”

“Not someone from her past even?” Tony was running out of ideas fast.

Simon thought hard. Had Fe mentioned anyone?

“Well the only person I can think of is a guy she used to go out with before me.

Her mother had wanted her to marry him instead of me.”

“So what was his name?”

“Bertram Connachy, he worked in one of the banks.” Simon seemed a bit brighter now that he had thought of someone, anyone.

“OK, so do you have a phone number or address for him?” Tony felt like he was playing private detective.

Simon made for the drawer which held the little blue phone book which contained Fiona’s old phone numbers. He hadn’t seen her use it since her parents died. She had never really recovered from the shock and had let many old friends drift away.

“Here it is!” Simon announced triumphantly holding the little book aloft. “Now, Conway, ah here we are Connachy, Bertram.” He read the phone number aloud to Tony who had managed to find a pen and paper.

“Good so do you want to ring him tonight?”

“You bet. I’ve got to find her and Katie.” He made for the phone and dialled the number. After a few minutes he put the phone down, a look of despondency on his face.

“He said he hasn’t seen her in years, since our wedding in fact. Seemed genuinely concerned that she was missing though” “Do you believe him?” Tony asked, not sure whether he believed the bank manager or not.

“Why? Don’t you?”

“Well she could be there for all we know. He’s hardly likely to admit it if she’s standing right next to him is he?”

“No, I suppose not, so what do we do now?” Simon reminded Tony at that moment of a little lost child, needing someone to help and point him in the right direction.

“Let’s see, tomorrows Saturday. So, suppose I go and check this Connachy out.

Just sit outside his house for a few hours, see if I can see Fiona or Katelin going in or out?” Tony suggested. “After all he doesn’t know me so hopefully I could keep the place under surveillance for a while before anyone would get suspicious?”

Tony was beginning to enjoy playing private eye despite Simon's predicament.

“Great. Maybe I could wear a disguise and take over after a while?”

“No, Simon I think it might be better if I handled this alone… for now.”

Simon seemed a little deflated but knew in his heart of hearts that it was for the best. Tony could easily wear a disguise if need be, but Simon? He was too small and too easily recognisable.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

First thing Saturday morning saw Julie Timpson up and feeding the children.

She was still enormously worried about her husband as he hadn't come home last night nor was he answering his mobile. She hadn’t had much sleep and it was beginning to tell. Dark circles were under her eyes.

“Where’s daddy?” Ann one the twins asked.

Julie almost snapped ‘I wish I knew’ but instead managed to answered calmly.

“Oh he’ll be home soon pet.” After all it was hardly the girl’s fault. She felt like adding ‘I hope.’

The doorbell rang and Julie dropped the cup shed been drying, which shattered on the kitchen floor. She ran to the door expecting it to be Jeremy never stopping to think ‘it's his house why would he ring the bell?’ She found herself face to face with a policeman and woman.

“Mrs Timpson?” The policeman asked.

“Oh Lord! What is it what’s happened?” She felt faint because she just knew something bad had happened, and by the look on their faces it was nothing good.

“May we come in Mrs Timpson?” The policewoman asked.

“What? Oh yes, come in, come in.” She stood back from the door but still held onto it to steady herself.

The police came in. “Is there anywhere we can go and sit down?” the woman asked, noting Julie’s condition and then, spotting three of the children, asked; “Is there a neighbour who could look after the children Mrs Timpson?”

“What? Oh, Maria from next door. Dear Lord what’s happened? Tell me please!” Her voice had risen in panic despite trying to remain calm in front of her children.

They went into the rather untidy front room which had assorted toys strewn everywhere.

“We found your husband's car this morning Mrs Timpson out by Breezy Point,” the policeman informed her. It was a high headland piece of land which was notorious for people who wanted to commit suicide as the tides were strong and unpredictable. “Your husband’s car was abandoned, but we also found a letter.

This is just a copy as we need the original for fingerprints. He explained handing her a small sheet of paper which held the legend ‘J. Timpson Your Handy Plumber.

No job too small.’

She reached forward and took the copy letter from his outstretched hand. Shaking she read: ‘Dearest Julie, forgive me if you can. The business hasn’t been doing very well in this recession and it’s going downhill fast. I’ve been hiding the fact from you but I can’t go on any more. This is the best way for everybody.’ It was signed ‘Your dearest Jeremy.’

Julie screamed once before she hit the floor.

They took her to the hospital but despite the excellent care she lost her fifth child, the much longed-for son. She knew it was completely out of character for her husband to be so depressed over the business that he’d contemplate suicide, but no one wanted to listen to her. Even the fingerprint people were of little or no help saying that any prints were smudged and indistinct. They could have been anybody’s.

Everyone who visited Julie avoided the subject as much as possible, feeling so sorry for the poor soul who had lost her husband and then her child. They thought that it was the shock which had sent her into denial, which was the general consensus amongst the town’s people. That her husband had taken his own life and left her to bring up four little girls on her own. So if Jeremy had gone over the cliff he would never be found.

“Good thing I’d started that extension,” Brian said to Carol, “it’ll save the neighbours getting curious if I was to start digging another big hole. And that I remembered to wear gloves while writing Jeremy's suicide note” They both laughed. Three down, only one to go.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Tony kept an eye on Bertram Connachy’s bungalow any spare minute he could get, but there was just no sign of Fiona or Katelin. It looked like wherever they had gone it wasn’t there. So how was he going to tell an already distraught Simon? He knew his colleague would be devastated even though he had finished his little affair with Anjelica that with same day Fiona had left.

Simon hadn’t had the courage to tell her face to face, so had sent her a text.

He knew it was the coward’s way out but he just couldn’t face her to tell her. He really thought that she had liked him and was still blissfully unaware that she had only been using him. How he was going to face her when he went back to work was going to be an ordeal for him, but he wanted his wife and daughter back more than he wanted Anjelica. But how could he find them? That was the big question.

Tony had no idea. He couldn't spend any more time watching the Connachy place as it was now Monday morning again and he still had his job to do. With Simon signed off with depression for a week it meant double the work for Tony. Still Simon should be back the following week, although how much help he’d be with his mind on the whereabouts of his wife and daughter only time would tell. Plus the Centre had another MS case to deal with. A certain Carol Finlay. Doctor Hollander had diagnosed her with relapsing/remitting MS. Whatever type of the disease Carol had it wasn’t stopping her from planning her next murder. Only she wasn’t looking at it as taking someone’s life, it was simply ridding the town of the four men that she thought had led her on since secondary school but always refused to admit openly that they really loved her.

Mike hadn’t been given the chance to ‘come clean’ and admit his feelings for her, but Luke and Jeremy had, and although they eventually did say the words, ‘I love you Carol’, she by now wouldn’t have believed him if he had. His resting place was already decided as Brian was determined to build a wheelchair ramp for his sister so where better?

As it was a beautiful sunny day when Tony first really met Carol, they decided to sit out in the garden to discuss her MS and to have a look at the booklets Tony had brought with him for her to read up on her condition. While he sat next to her he had the feeling that she was flirting with him. She was sitting just a little too close for his liking and several times playfully hit him on the arm, plus she was very giggly

which he wouldn’t have expected from someone her age, having just been given the MS diagnosis. He struggled manfully onwards with the explanations about what was happening to her and why she was having even more strange symptoms. While he was there the doorbell rang but she made no attempt to answer it.

“Oh Brian will get it,” she informed Tony, seemingly reluctant to leave his side yet she didn't seem all that interested in what he was trying to tell her.

So Brian the brother was in. Tony wished that he would join them outside on the garden seat and hopefully keep Carol in check.

Whoever it was they were not shown outside but eventually Brian did appear.

He was a strange one alright. Even his very presence made Tony uneasy. He couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong with Brian, but something definitely was. Between flirtatious Carol and now the odd-ball brother, Tony wondered just what kind of a household this was.

Half an hour later and Tony had finished his preliminary explanations about what MS was. He packed his bag and stood up offering Brian his hand.

“Nice to meet you Brian, at last,” He said.

Brian didn’t return the gesture.

Carol on the other hand, grabbed hold of Tony’s hand and shook it profusely.

“Thank you, thank you Tony. Now don’t you be a stranger. Any time you’re down this way pop in and see us,” she enthused.

“Well thanks for the offer Carol, but my work keeps me pretty busy. However Dr. Hollander did mention that he would like to try you on the disease modifying drug Avonex. Next time I come I’ll bring some of the information about it and some of the other drugs that can be used.”

Carol nearly said ‘stuff the drugs, just you come’, but instead managed. “Okay, we’ll look forward to your next visit then.”

It was not the sort of reply that Tony would have expected. It sounded as if she was actually going to be looking forward to injecting herself with one of the drugs. There was no mention of drug misuse in her medical notes and her bare arms looked clean enough. No tell tale drug ‘lines.’

After Tony left Carol turned to Brian. “Well?” Was all she said.

“It was a piece of cake,” he replied, “he’s down in the cellar and should be waking up right about now with a sore head.” He had successfully trapped John Reynolds, a thirty year old divorced electrician, down in their custom-built little cell, to await his sister’s undivided attention.

Brian already knew that John could never say that he loved Carol, but it had been fun watching the other two squirm helplessly as they pled for their lives.

He wondered if John would do the same.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Katelin Smith was normally a happy child, but since her mother had brought her to the city she was morose and withdrawn. ‘Where was her daddy?’ She had asked her mother but hadn’t really received the reply she had been looking for. Plus she was missing all her little school pals. Her mother didn’t seem all that happy either and sometimes snapped at her for no real reason.

Katelin tried to be good but she was only six and got into all the scrapes a typical six year old could get into.

She didn’t like this building either, where her mother had brought her to stay, for ‘just a little while’.

It was an old tenement-style house and only really had one bedroom which she and her mother had to share. The kitchen was dingy and smelt dank, which was hardly surprising as it was damp, with the wallpaper peeling off the walls. The living room was dark and scary, with monsters hiding in every shaded crevice and corner.

The other children that she had met, so far, weren’t like her old school friends.

They were rougher in both their talk and in the games they played. No, she didn’t like them at all.

“When can we go home mummy?” she asked one day.

Her mother wanted to snap ‘this is your home now’ but instead said; “I hope we can go home someday soon poppet.” Fiona Smith hadn’t really wanted to bring her daughter to this place, but it was all she could afford with the day-to-day living expenses. Oh how she missed Simon! He had always taken care of all the bills and he had had a good wage. His ‘girls’ had never gone without anything, until Anjelica came along. Maybe Fiona had been a bit rash in her decision to move out but no way was she going to share her husband with another woman, least of all that tart!

She was hoping to teach him a lesson, and hopefully bring him to his senses but she would have to stay away a bit longer she reckoned. Now that she was in this place she sincerely hoped that she hadn’t left the door wide open for Anjelica.

Fiona felt sick at the thought. She had never really been good at making decisions, and hoped that she hadn’t made an almighty blunder here with this one.

She was a bit lost in thought and hadn’t noticed Katelin sneaking out of the front door. She had spotted a puppy in the garden and wanted to pet it. As she neared the pup it took fright and darted across the busy main road which ran in

front of the property, miraculously escaping injury. Katelin ran after it. She wasn’t to be so lucky. A screech of tyres and the lorry struck her. A woman screamed and a crowd gathered.

Wondering what all the fuss was about, Fiona looked out of the window. She was a little surprised that Katelin wasn’t by her side then she noticed the open front door. Realisation struck her as to what must have happened.

“NO!” She screamed running out to join the throng.

“Let me through! Let me through, it might be my daughter!” She elbowed her way through the crowd which now parted like the Red Sea for her and, to her abject horror she saw that it was indeed Katelin.

“GET AN AMBULANCE!” Fiona yelled at the crowd as she knelt down and cradled Katie in her arms. She was unconscious but still breathing.

A tall man in tattered jeans bent down beside her. “One’s on its way,” he said, trying to sooth Fiona who by now was weeping openly.

It seemed to her to take an eternity but one did eventually arrive, but not before little Katelin had started to bleed from the mouth.

“Oh dear God no!” Fiona was nearly hysterical. Was her daughter going to die?

They gently loaded the unconscious Katelin onto a stretcher and took her into the ambulance.

Fiona followed completely forgetful that she hadn’t locked her front door.

Nothing else existed in the universe for her at this present moment except her daughter.

Back in Hornlea John Reynolds awoke to the nightmare his friends had endured before their death.

Like the others he too was chained to the wall with an extremely sore head where Brian had hit him. He didn't know if it was day or night. ‘What was happening?’

‘Where was he?’ ‘Who had done this?’ were three of the questions that ran through his mind as he sat there chained and gagged.

Eventually the sound of bolts being removed drew his attention towards the door.

Brian stood in the doorway an evil smirk on his lips.

Brian! Of course! He was the last person John remembered seeing before turning his back to examine the wiring then the lights had gone out quite literally for him as something had struck him.

‘Brrn,’ was all he could get out for the gag, then he spotted Carol. So she was in on this too!

They came into the small room and Brian stooped to remove the gag but not before warning John to keep quiet if he knew what was good for him.

“Well, John,” Carol began, “are you going to admit it or be just like you friends?” she asked.

“Admit what?” John asked her sounding slightly bemused. Maybe it had been the

blow on the head that was making him almost have a fit of the giggles or a reaction to the severity of the situation. Cope with humour, his mother had always said.

“Oh you know,” she said. She seemed to be playing a game with him, one which she was enjoying only he wasn’t, despite trying to conceal his amusement at the circumstances.

“You’ll have to help me out here Carol, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His reply angered her. “You know very well what I mean John Reynolds!”

She spat the words at him but he wasn’t going to be intimidated, despite his present situation which if he had looked at it a bit more seriously could have appeared to him as it actually was. Quite frightening.

“Now Carol, how can I admit anything if you won’t give me a clue?”

“Well how’s about secondary school?” she relented a little, giving him his clue to jog his memory.

“Secondary school, that was a long time ago Carol.”

“John Reynolds!” she said his name in an exasperated tone. The others hadn’t been as difficult as this.

“Yes Carol?” he answered almost smiling at her confusion.

“You know what I mean!” She was getting more worked up by the minute.

“I’m afraid not. Do you know, Brian?” He turned to look at Brian and wished he hadn’t. Brian was grinning, enjoying the banter between his sister and John, but his grin had a certain evilness about it.

“Secondary school, how you wouldn’t admit that you loved me, that’s what I mean!” she finally explained to him in detail.

“Carol, don’t be silly, I was never in love with you, you stupid woman!”

“Don’t you call me silly or stupid!” she took a step towards him and would have hit him, like she had Mike, if she’d had anything to hand whack him with.

“Well you must be stupid if you thought or think that I’d want anything to do with you.” He clearly didn't realise the danger he was in and by antagonising her like this he was only making it worse for himself. Digging an even bigger hole for himself, though only metaphorically at the moment.

“Oh I knew it, didn’t I Brian” They're all the same. Led me on and even now won’t admit it. I’ve held a candle for you all these years John and this is how you treat me!” Her voice had risen again.

“Well you were silly Carol. I never led you on and if you think that, then it’s all in your head. I couldn’t love a great lump like you.”

Carol felt like her mother was there with her telling her the exact same things.

It was déjà vu. She turned and made her way to the stairs rather haltingly.

Her balance was getting worse again. It looked like she was heading for another relapse, but before mounting the stairs she called over her shoulder: “Take care of him Brian will you?”

Brian’s grin widened. This was the part he enjoyed.

“What did she mean, ‘Take care of me?’ ” John asked, more worried now than he had been.

“Oh you'll find out John, but don't worry too much, you’ll meet all your little friends again.” He replied while securing a piece of duct tape across John’s mouth.

Now for the first time John really started to panic. What had happened to his friends?

Was the same fate now about to happen to him?

That night he found out. Brian decided he would like to try strangulation this time.

It was fun, trying out new ways of killing people, to a psycho like him.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Simon received the call a little after six.

“Can I speak to Mr Simon Smith?” the woman caller asked.

“Yes, speaking,” he replied, wondering who this was as he had an unlisted number known only to a few people, close friends and work colleagues. He didn't recognise this voice.

“My name is Sister Joanna Burke from the Highton hospital,” she said identifying herself and a hospital in the city. “Do you have a daughter called Katelin?” the Sister continued.

“Katie, dear Lord what's happened?” In one way he was relieved that he knew where Katie was but in another racked with guilt. Why was a city hospital calling him about Katie…and what about Fiona?

“I'm afraid your daughter was involved in an accident earlier today.” Sister Burke informed him.

“How is she?” His voice shook as he asked, as he expected the worst.

“We need O negative blood because of her injuries. Your wife has informed us that you are the same blood type as your daughter.”

Fe was there with Katie! “Yes, yes that's right. You want me to come to Highton?” He knew it sounded silly, of course they’d want him to donate his blood but his mind was in complete confusion and he couldn't think clearly. He had found them, but what state were they in? “My wife how is she?” he managed, “is she alright?” It was all he could say before emotion took over.

“She's with your daughter. Pretty upset, as you’d imagine. She managed to give us this number to call.”

“What? Oh yes.” Simon was trying to do two things at once, hold the phone and get into his jacket. Now where were the car keys? “I’ll be there as fast as I can.” He promised the Sister. He was out the door and heading for his car at a run before he thought he’d better let Tony know. Luckily he had the number on speed dial. It went to voice mail.

“Tony, I've found them! Well sort of. Katie’s been involved in an accident.

“I have to go to Highton to give blood as she’s O neg like me. Can’t really talk as I'll be driving…” He dropped the car keys, luckily they didn’t go down a drain.

Finding them again, he inserted them in the door. “Speak to you when I get there

and know what the situation is.” He couldn’t wait as he was so desperate to see his wife and daughter again.

The same night Anjelica Moss was in the cafeteria with one of her friends.

“Dumped me by text… would you believe it! Going to go back to that scraggy wife of his! After all the nights I gave him and never asked for a thing but his company,” she moaned to her best friend.

Her friend laughed. “Yes ‘Angel,’ she used Anjelica’s nickname, “not a thing, right.” It was said like she didn’t believe a word, which she didn’t as she already knew otherwise, with her friend’s near constant boasting about all the things Simon had given her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anjelica asked, pretending to sound a little hurt that her friend wasn’t giving her more sympathy at being dumped. As far as Anjelica was concerned, she was the injured party here.

“Well what about all those little ‘extras’ that he bought you? Like your new Hi-Fi system, the new shoes you just ‘ had to have’, the new MP3 player, the…” her friend was going to go on and on.

“OK, OK. But didn't I deserve them?” Anjelica was still looking for sympathy.

“No, you didn’t really Anjelica,” a deep sexy male voice said from behind her.

Tony Barclay stood there looking down at the two nurses who were on a break and having coffee.

“Oh Tony, it’s you!” Anjelica tried to cover her error by making eyes at the Centre’s ‘Dishy Doc’ as he was nicknamed amongst the female staff.

“Anjelica, his daughter’s in hospital,” he informed her. “Pretty serious too from what I heard,” Tony added as he thought that Anjelica should feel some guilt after what had happened to his colleague and his family. “So don’t let me hear you say another word against Simon… or Fiona for that matter.”

Anjelica was flustered. By his tone of voice she could tell he was angry.

“Oh I didn't mean… I didn't know…” She trailed off unsure of what to say to redeem herself in Tony’s gorgeous brown eyes.

“If I were you Anjelica I’d pack my bags and take that job up in Aberdeen that you’ve been going on about for weeks, and get as far away from Simon and his family as possible. The last thing he needs is to come back here and meet you again.” With that Tony strode off leaving Angelica with her mouth open.

At last she found her voice. “Well!” She said in a aggravated tone.

Even her friend however was not for showing sympathy. “Oh come on Angel, it would be for the best all round and you know it, especially if his daughter’s been injured.”

Angelica hated to admit it but her friend was right. That’s what she got for having an affair with a married man with a child.

Later that night, Simon took Fiona back to the place she had been staying while in the city. To him it looked like a dump. Was this what his wife and daughter had come to? Was this what he had driven them to? He felt ashamed.

They climbed up the stairs and found the door ajar. Simon went in first followed closely by Fiona who gasped at the state of the place. It had been stripped almost bare. Any possessions she had brought with her were gone as were Katelin’s things, including Mr Teddy.

“Oh Simon! We’ve been robbed,” was all she managed to say through her tears.

Simon put his arms around her. It was meant to comfort her but it was very comforting to him to have his wife back where he felt she belonged. How he had missed her. The smell of her perfume, her long silky hair, her softness.

“All my lovely clothes and Katie’s things!” she managed through sobs.

“Fe, it doesn’t matter. Clothes can be replaced but you and Katie can’t.

It’s more important that I’ve found you, and before you say another word I’ve finished with Anjelica… for good. It’s a pity it had to take you leaving me to bring me to my senses but believe me it has. I never ever want to lose you again.

Can you forgive me for being such a fool Fe?” he pleaded.

Fiona looked at her husband. He certainly looked and sounded remorseful.

It would take time though for the trust to be rebuilt, but looking into those blue eyes she suddenly forgot all the anguish he had put her through. “I think it’s time you took me back to the hospital and then back home,” she said simply.

Simon couldn’t have agreed more.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The hospital doctor drew Fiona and Simon aside for a quiet word.

“We just want to keep her in overnight for observation,” he told them, “she was a very lucky little girl.”

“The blood though, I thought I was going to be needed to give blood.” Simon was clearly mystified.

The doctor gave a kind of laugh. “She lost a tooth,” he explained, “it must have happened when she hit the road. Hardly a case for a blood transfusion though.” He gave an amused laugh.

“So there’s nothing to worry about?” Simon asked clearly puzzled as to why he had been sent for.

“Well apart from a trip to the dentist she should be okay.”

“So why did I get a call from a Sister Burke saying that you might need O Neg blood?”

“I have absolutely no idea Mr Smith, because we don’t have a Sister Burke on staff,” the young doctor informed him.

Simon looked across at Fiona.

“I’m so sorry Si, I got one of the other patients to ring you, pretend she was a sister. It was the only way I could think of to get you to come to us…”

She seemed close to tears. “I made a terrible mistake leaving you.”

He drew her into his arms. “Fe, Fe it’s all right. I've found you and Katie again and that’s all that matters.”

“So what have you learnt from all of this?” Simon asked his daughter after she got home from the hospital.

Katelin gave him the same lopsided grin that he always gave her mother. She was clearly her father’s daughter. “I have to look both ways before I cross the road, and I don’t run on to it I walk when it’s all clear,” she informed him, proud that she had remembered what she had been told.

“And what else?” he prompted.

“And I don't chase after puppies on to the road.” She seemed a little forlorn about this last statement.

“Good girl.” Simon informed her. “Now I have a little, well not so little, surprise for you.”

“A surprise! What is it? Tell me, tell me daddy!” She was clearly excited now and wanted to know what her surprise was.

“Well why don't you come outside and see.”

Katelin didn't need to be told twice. She ran out of the door into their rather spacious walled garden and, as she did so, a golden Labrador bounded up the garden to meet them. Katelin was beside herself with joy and unspeakable words.

“Daddy, daddy a doggie, a doggie, whose is it?” She at last found her voice as the dog gave her big sloppy doggie kisses.

“Well Katie sweetheart, her name’s Kelly and she’s looking for a good home.

Do you think we could give her one?” He was only kidding as he and Fiona had already decided that Kelly was coming to stay.

Katelin looked at her mother. “Can we keep her mummy, can we, can we!”

She was all excited about having a dog of her own.

Her mother looked down at her daughter’s excited face. “Well, I’ll have to think about that.”

Katelin looked crestfallen that things would have to be thought about.

Fiona took two seconds then said, “I think we could just about squeeze her in, couldn’t we Simon?”

“You have to ask?” Simon laughed. Even if he had said ‘no’ he would clearly have been outvoted, as Fiona had fallen for Kelly too. The woman from the cat and dog home had informed him it was time Kelly/Nelly had someone who would love her, and keep her, as one owner had simply disappeared after giving her to the Finlays who quite simply didn’t want to be bothered with her. It was clear that the little dog needed some real love.

PART TWO

CAROL AND TONY CHAPTER TWENTY

“I see Brian's doing more building work,” Josh said to his wife in exasperation as he looked out of the net curtained kitchen window. His vantage point afforded him an excellent view of his neighbours back garden. It was eight o'clock in the morning and they had just finished breakfast.

Amy had to stand on tiptoe to see what her husband was looking at. Brian was busy mixing cement.

“He’s keen,” she remarked, dumping the breakfast dishes into the sink.

Josh continued to watch Brian in a somewhat disgruntled silence. “Looks like he’s building Carol a wheelchair ramp then she can get out to the garden on her own,” Amy went on, intrigued by Brian’s efforts .

“Maybe that Westwork place will give her a new one,” Josh stated, as he knew that Carol had had to use her mother’s old one up until now to get around, or when she was out at the shops.

Brian always had to go with her as ther mother’s chair wasn’t one of the self propelling ones and needed ‘driver’ or someone to push it.

“Westmark’.” Amy corrected her husband.

“OK, ‘Mark,’ Josh stood corrected on the name of the wheelchair supplier.

“Or maybe ‘Dishy Doc’ will get her one from that Rehab place that I've heard some people talking about. That is if he really is a doctor.”

“Well if he isn’t a doctor of some sort then what else could he be, and I wish you would give things their proper name,” Amy informed him, because, not being from the UK he still made little errors which she tried to correct for him. Not that this really mattered, but she thought he might as well know the correct way of saying things.

“Why, what did I say?” Josh asked Amy oblivious of at his error.

“Well it’s a Rehabilitation Centre. A neurological one,” she informed him.

She had been looking things up on the Internet again, and like her husband, had wanted to learn as much as she could about Multiple Sclerosis, since their neighbour had been diagnosed with it. She didn't want to be ignorant like most people were about the condition, just in case Carol ever did ask for help. She doubted it, but wanted to be prepared just in case. “If you just say ‘Rehab’, then everyone immediately thinks of drink or drugs, and with her balance problems just recently and the way

she sometimes staggers she doesn’t need people thinking she’s alcoholic or a drug user. She’s going to have enough to deal with without that.”

“My, my, we are well informed this morning and it isn’t even eight-thirty yet.”

“Well someone in this house has to be,” she threw back at him, good humouredly sticking her tongue out at him as she did so.

“So what do you think our ‘Dishy Doc’ is?” Josh went back to his original line of thought.

“Oh I’m not sure. He could be a physio or an occupational therapist,” was all Amy could come up with, “whatever he is, she’s certainly taken a fancy to him.” she stated, all knowledgeable.

“Now how, ‘Mystic Amy’, do you know that, and don’t say ‘woman’s intuition,’ Josh laughed at her. He had heard much about this but still failed to understand it.

She took it in good part. “Well, remember that last sunny day we had? She was sitting out in the garden with him. He was obviously trying to explain something serious to her and she was acting like a love-struck teenager with a crush on her favourite teacher.”

“Bit old to be having schoolgirl crushes. She must be what… thirty?” he guessed.

“No, I think she'll be older than that, more like thirty-five, but what sort of a life has the poor girl had? She’s always been at home with her parents, and now she’s been struck with this MS and won’t go out on her own. If Brian doesn’t take her she just stays in all day. Can’t be any fun that”.

“Are you starting to feel sorry for her?” Josh raised an eyebrow.

“Well Brian seems to scare off any men who might have shown an interest in her, so how’s she ever going to meet anyone and have a life of her own? I saw John Reynolds going in there one day and he’s eligible now that he’s divorced. Come to think of it I haven’t seen him around the town for a week or two.” Amy was thinking about this and was puzzled by John’s absence, as she would often see him about town, especially on a Saturday, when he met up with his pals and went for a pre-match drink at one of the local pubs which had Sky TV. “I haven’t seen Luke Timpson either, come to think of it.” Their absence was a puzzle to her.

It wasn’t like them not to be around somewhere. “Wonder where they’ve gone?

Seems a bit strange that I haven’t seen either of them for quite a while.” She really was puzzled by their absence.

“Quite the little detective aren’t we? You sound as if you think something’s happened to them. I seem to remember them being about the same age as Carol and Brian, but you would know more about that than I would wouldn’t you? Weren’t they at primary school at the same time that you were?”

“You’re right. They were two classes below me. I seem to remember John and Luke being in a little group along with Mike Reynolds and Jeremy Simpson called the ‘Fab Four.’” Amy thought back to her school days smiling as she did so, as her

school time had been a happy time, unlike Carol’s.

“Why were they called the ‘Fab Four’? Did they sing or something?” her husband asked, because although coming from Sweden he had heard of the real Fab Four and since moving to the UK had even acquired some of their music “Well, it was all a bit odd really. From what I remember they weren’t really ‘fab’ as in fabulous. They were more of a menace and a nuisance.”

“Then why were they called the ‘Fab Four’?” Josh was still unclear as to their nickname.

Amy erupted into laughter. “Would you believe it was because there were the four of them!”

“Unbelievable, I’d never have guessed that one!” Josh tried to sound truly puzzled but failed.

A clang drew their attention back to the garden. Brian had dropped a spade.

“Wonder what they’re going to do with the upstairs bit of their house, I mean she’s never going to manage up all those stairs to her bedroom, as her balance seems to have gotten a lot worse over the past few months.”

“Maybe they’ll get a stairlift put in,” Josh suggested. “who knows, maybe Brian will make her one, if he ever gets the time, with all the other things he seems to be doing.”

They both laughed at the idea because they knew Brian could handle the building side of things but with all the intricacies a stairlift would involve it would be totally beyond him.

“Well he said they wouldn’t be moving. So what will they do? They’ll need to do something, unless they move her bedroom downstairs into the room you use as the dining room,” he suggested to his wife.

“Could be, as I can’t see Carol needing a dining room now.”

“Did she ever need one in the past? Come to think of it do we?”

“Not really. Even her mother wasn’t the sort who went in for giving dinner parties.

She was well thought of, but dinner parties? They just weren't the type to entertain guests. Maybe they’ll decide to make that extension he’s been building into a bedroom on the ground floor for her, you just don't know. Funny thing that, they’ve always kept themselves to themselves; you never knew what was going on in that house, until the parents died and he decided he wanted the gym built. Done wonders for his physique.”

Josh made a face at his wife as if to say you shouldn't be noticing other men’s physique when you’ve got me. She ignored him. “How the father ever got any work as a builder I don't know, he was a bit like his wife and didn’t do any social networking.”

“Social what?” Josh asked a bit puzzled by the English phrase.

“Well he never mixed with his fellow builders, so never really got any of the big contracts that were going, had to settle for all the small stuff, but he seemed to do alright out of it.”

“Well at least he made the money, if Brian was able to afford all that gym stuff that we saw going into their place was anything to go by, and as far as I know neither of them has ever had to pay a visit to the Job Centre or look for work.”

“You said it husband of mine, now talking about making money, isn’t it about time you went to work and see what you can make for me…. to spend that is. After all the sales are just about to start.”

“Oh you’re good at spending Amy - sometimes I think too good!” He said in a jokey manner lifting his briefcase and heading for the door. He didn’t mind really, as he still loved her and was sure he always would.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

It was a quarter to nine the following week. Brian, had been up since seven-thirty, was busy filling in the hole that had been made to accommodate John’s body, under the guise of excavation work for the wheelchair ramp. His neighbours were thinking how dedicated and conscientious he was. They could have no idea that this was where John Reynolds last resting place was, Brian having dragged his body out there during the night. The neighbours slept during the night, Brian buried bodies.

“He’s really keen to get that ramp finished rather quickly , isn’t he? That’s brotherly love for you all right,” Josh said to Amy as he watched Brian smoothing over part of the cement with a look of love on his face, “he’s taking a real pride in his work.” They thought it was the building work he was taking pride in, but in reality he was feeling very pleased with himself for having brought the last of the ‘fab four’ to his own brand of justice.

“You can say that again,” Amy answered, “he’s really been doing the whole place up for her lately. Lowered the potting tables in the greenhouse so that she can reach the plants and care for them herself, at least I think that’s what he was doing.

He was out there working till all hours one night. Then he did the patio making it easier for a wheelchair to get around on, and I still don't know what they’re going to put in the extension, but he’s certainly been very busy whatever he’s up to.”

She had no idea of Brian’s real reason for all the work or she, like the rest of the town, would have been horrified. He was killing and burying people. He had to keep disposing of the bodies somewhere. He had to keep digging holes.

“I thought he would have had enough of all that building stuff with the gym.

At least it’s been a bit quieter this time. Those last men who did the building work for him didn’t care about all the noise that we had to put up with.” Josh complained to his wife. Although if it had been several years since it had been done it still rankled with him. If it hadn’t been for his love for little Amy Masters he would have gone home to Sweden when his exchange student time had been up, even if just to get some peace and quiet, as his parent’s farm was secluded and virtually noise free. Only the twittering of birds broke the silence. “I wonder what Carols up to today?” he continued, “I saw her yesterday just sitting at the front window, staring out, that’s no life for anyone.” He shook his head sadly, yet he knew she had been a bit of an odd character all her life never mixing with the other school children and never associating much with adults either as she became older.

Unbeknown to Josh, Carol was already back in her favourite place by the front window. She was sitting in her mother’s old wheelchair again, watching the people go by outside on the main street.

She liked to see and be seen. It somehow empowered her to hear their comments as they went by. Made her feel better than this hopeless cripple that she felt, in her mind, that she had become. She liked to hear their sympathetic remarks, felt she deserved them after what her mother had put her through.

“Poor luv, stuck in the house on a nice day like this”, or, “She's got MS you know, terrible that.” The passers- by would say shaking their heads in sympathy .

She watched as the children ran past on their way to school. So young, so full of energy and hope, their whole lives ahead of them. Shouting, laughing, joking, running. All the normal attributes of youth, that she had now lost.

She felt now that she would never get married or have children of her own.

Who would want to marry a cripple? That was her ill-informed reasoning. Only there was no real reason why she couldn’t get married if she found the right man.

He would understand. The wheelchair and the MS simply wouldn’t come into it if he was the right man for her, only the fact that she, like her ‘brother’ was an out and out psychopath would.

There was no reason why she couldn’t have children either, indeed if she had read some of the literature that her MS nurse, Tony Barclay, had left for her she would have found out that being pregnant could actually have been beneficial to her condition, but she had tossed all the booklets into a drawer and left them there unread. She wasn’t interested in the MS or what it was doing to her, but she had become increasingly interested in Tony.

She had had her imaginary schoolgirl crushes on Luke, Mike, Jeremy and John and had tried, unsuccessfully, to get them to admit that they had been in love with her. She had convinced herself that they had been, in the make believe little world, which she had invented to escape her mother’s tyranny. However this with Tony was different. He was different.

In her mind he was definitely her ‘Mr Right’. She knew however that she had to get him too to admit that he loved her because a little part of her didn’t want him to suffer the same fate as the others had. He had to say the words ‘I love you Carol’ and mean them. She didn’t want him to end up dead and buried like the other four.

He was too special to her, even although she knew very little about the real Tony.

She had fallen in love with a name. Tony Barclay. It sounded so sweet to her ears.

The hall clock stuck ten awakening her from her daydreaming. Well, it wouldn’t be long now, she sighed contentedly, until she saw her beloved Tony. It was strange really as she had only ever met him a few times at the Rehab Centre and twice here at home, but she felt instinctively that he was the one for her. She felt he would really mean it when he said those magical little words that she longed to hear…

‘I love you Carol.’ Such little words but they would mean the world to her.

They would prove her mother wrong. Someone would love her and hopefully marry her. Providing of course that he wasn't already married, but a wife could easily be ‘taken care of’. Her own happiness was what was paramount. She had noticed the wedding ring on his finger, but unless it was the one that she had put there Carol wasn’t interested in its implications. Had she known Tony better she would have known that there was, at this present time, no Mrs Barclay to worry about.

She looked in the hall mirror to check her appearance. Had to look her best for Tony, as she did so she said out loud; ‘You see Dr Murchison, it wasn’t depression after all.’

She had known it hadn’t been all along, but had had to endure countless doctors’ misdiagnosis for years.

She returned to the window. She knew that Tony had said he was only coming to visit this morning to explain about some of the drugs which would perhaps help her MS. There was of course no guarantee, but it was a chance that most sufferers were willing to take. However Carol didn’t really care about that, it was all just a ruse to get Tony to visit. Then she had plans for him. First there was the coffee. A slight panic took hold of her. What if he refused the coffee? No, that was silly, he wouldn't refuse, he was too well mannered to do that, and everyone liked coffee. Didn’t they?

He would drink it although he wouldn't know it at the time but all it was doing was saving him from having a bump on the head, because if he didn’t drink it she, or Brian, would have to resort to violence to render him unconscious, before he too would be taken down to the little cell, and she didn't want to harm him did she?

Not Tony. He was too special to her.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Tony arrived in the little seaside town of Hornlea at 11.45. He drove his blue BMW over to the golf course car park as there were never enough parking spaces in the town proper at this time of day, due to shoppers parking their cars and delivery vans. It was always such a busy place.

That just left him enough time to walk back to Carol and Brian’s for his twelve o’clock appointment.

He suddenly had an idea. Why didn't Brian turn that piece of wasteland next to their house into a car park? He’d make a fortune and Tony vaguely remembered Carol telling him at one of their previous meetings that they owned it along with the house. Though why he needed to know that he had no idea.. They could own half of Hornlea for all he’d care He thought about the two people he was going to meet and decided that they really were an odd pair. She was a bit flirtatious while Brian seemed so quiet, too quiet, as if he was going to say something terrible if he opened his mouth and give away some deep, dark family secrets. They didn't even look like brother and sister.

Carol had been a ‘big girl’ even before the steroid treatment began, and had short, dark straight hair. She never seemed to try and make the best of herself like most other females did, despite thinking that the fab four had been in love with her.

There was never any make up on her sallow skin, even a little smear of lipstick would have helped, nor did she wear any ornamentation. No rings, bracelets or earrings.

The only thing she did wear was a locket which her grandmother had given her.

It was the only piece of jewellery that her mother had allowed her to have. Brian on the other hand was shorter than his sister with a shock of curly ginger hair and piercing blue eyes, and since his acquisition of the home gym he had developed some serious looking muscles. There was just something odd about the pair of them.

Tony shook his head telling himself not to be silly. What was he worried about?

He met all sorts of people in this job. MS was not respectful of class or personality type, or how people looked. It was his own fault, really, he would become an MS nurse he chided himself.

Why hadn’t he chosen some other career if it was bothering him so much?

Come to think of it why was it bothering him? He had never felt like this before.

It was like a premonition that something unsavoury and untoward was going to happen. Only what? He had done this hundreds of times before and nothing had

happened, so why should he think it was going to happen now?

Trying to put such thoughts out of his mind, he walked on, arriving at Carol and Brian’s home just before twelve. She was sitting at the window. Watching for him? he wondered.

He rang the bell and a few moments later she opened the door.

“Tony!” She exclaimed, greeting him like an excited schoolgirl meeting her favourite pop star, and for one awful moment he thought she was going to throw her arms around him, which could have been a bit embarrassing as her neighbours, a tall blond man and a rather petite blond woman, chose that precise moment to leave their house. For some reason both smiled at him as if they knew him.

He returned their smile with a nod of acknowledgement. Had Carol been talking to them about her MS and about him? If so what exactly had she been saying?

Carol totally ignored her neighbours. “Come in, come in!” She stood back from the door to let him enter. She was clearly very happy to see him and he wondered briefly if he should perhaps have her transferred to Simon, as she was clearly becoming far too attached to him even with the few brief meetings that they had had.

“Brian's just coming, he's out in the garden.” She closed the door and brushed past him, a little too closely for his liking, despite the hall being quite broad. She led the way to the kitchen which was situated at the back of the house. Reaching it she switched on the kettle. “A cup of coffee first.” It was not a question, it was a statement.

Tony was about to decline but saw that she had everything ready. Smiling sweetly she produced a packet of biscuits.

“Oh, here comes Brian now,” she explained unnecessarily as the kitchen door was banged open and Brian Finlay entered, bringing half the garden with him on his boots.

“Brian!” Carol almost screamed at him, “Boots!”

Without a word Brian retreated and Tony heard the thump, thump of wellington boots as they were discarded by the back door.

The kettle boiled and Carol made the coffee. She handed Tony the yellow mug, took the pink one herself and left the blue one for Brian. She offered the men a biscuit which Tony declined but Brian grabbed two, as if he didn't get them very often and was making the most of things.

Tony took a sip of the coffee. He almost spat it out. It tasted vile. What in the world brand were they using? Even cheap coffee tasted better than this. He looked across at Carol and Brian. They were actually drinking theirs. Maybe it was just his imagination. He swallowed a few more mouthfuls, anxious to be out of this strange household as quickly as possible. Something just didn’t feel right to him but he couldn't say just what it was.

As he was about to start explaining about the MS drugs and the various injection sites that could be used, he suddenly felt dizzy. He didn't feel well at all, he felt warm

and strangely uncomfortable.

He felt panic rising within him and he knew that he just had to get out of there…fast. It suddenly dawned on him. The coffee! They must have put something in it! He tried to stand but his legs wouldn’t hold him and he fell to the floor.

Looking up he saw Carol and Brian grinning down at him. They knew what was happening and they weren't about to help him. They were enjoying watching his confusion and panic.

“Carol…wha…” was all he managed to get out before the darkness took him for its own.

“Okay Tony, down to the cellar we go.”

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

The first that anyone knew that something had happened to Tony was when his two o’clock appointment Marie Lane called the MS nurses’ helpline to enquire where he was. He had not kept their two o’clock home visit appointment and it was now five thirty, she said angrily. Where was he, she wanted to know.

Unfortunately the message was only picked up by the answering machine as it was made out of hours and was not actually heard until the following morning, when Simon usually checked the tape.

He was quite surprised when he heard that the ever efficient Tony had missed an appointment. He was really ‘married to the job’, so to speak, and Simon knew that something quite serious must have happened for him to have let a patient down.

Tony was the one who was doing home visits this week, and as appointments and cancellations were usually sent via Sandra, one of the Rehab’s secretaries, Simon decided to check with Sandra first to see if he had kept the appointment eventually.

“Sorry Simon, I haven’t seen Tony at all this morning, come to think of it,” she said, with a pensive note to her voice.

“You mean he hasn’t been in all morning?” Simon had been busy holding one of his own clinics and hadn’t really had time to notice that Tony wasn't going about the Centre as usual. They didn’t live in each other’s pockets but they should have crossed paths at least once. Even if just going from one room to another, or along one of the corridors. He should have at least noticed him sometime during the morning.

“Now you mention it, it doesn’t look like he has been,” she sounded a little mystified, “I usually see him when I come in around nine.” She looked out of the window. “His car's not in its usual parking space either.”

“Seems a bit odd don't you think? First he missed Marie Lane’s appointment and now he hasn’t turned up for work this morning. Who were his appointments with yesterday before Marie’s?”

Sandra sat down at her computer and after tapping a few keys, brought up the diary page for the previous day.

“Ah here it is, ten o’clock , Mr Bryson, Carol and Marie Lane which he doesn't seem to have kept. Hold on.” She said. “I’ll give Marie a ring just in case he didn't make it until after five thirty.” They both knew that would be a bit unusual but if

Tony had had a flat tyre or engine trouble it could have happened. He would rather have turned up late for an appointment than to have left a patient completely in the lurch.

After a few minutes conversation she replaced the receiver. “No, he didn’t turn up at all. Doesn’t seem like him, does it, and it doesn’t explain where he is this morning.”

“Wonder if he went to see Mr Bryson and Carol Finlay?” Simon asked.

“I'll give them a ring and we’ll see.” Sandra tapped a few more keys and brought up Hughie Bryson’s phone number and Carol Finlay’s. She rang both then looked up at Simon.

“You're never going to believe this, he went to Mr Bryson’s at ten and then Carol Findlay at twelve. Now here’s the crazy part, Carol says he left early to, quote, ‘go to a birthday party.’ Did he mention anything about a birthday party to you?”

She asked Simon.

Well of all the….” Simon was annoyed at Tony leaving him to all the work while he had gone to a party, “No! He most certainly did not.” He sounded a bit angry as you couldn't just take time off as you pleased from the NHS. For although he had taken a couple of weeks off to sort out his marital problems that would really count as part of his holidays, and a ‘party’ that they knew nothing about just didn’t count as a good enough reason for time off, even if he had asked permission, which he didn’t appear to have done.

Sandra, who like a number of the female staff at the Centre had an unrequited love for Tony, was still determined to stick up for him. He hadn't earned the title of ‘Dishy Doc’ for nothing.

“Does that sound like him? Deserting a patient to go to a party?” she asked although she already knew the answer. A great big unequivocal NO. “Well no,” Simon had to admit, “look, why not try his mobile you’re bound to get him on that, he’s never without the thing.”

Sandra tried the mobile number and after a few seconds gave Simon a puzzled frown.

“What?” He asked, looking at her puzzled expression.

“It was switched off and all I got was ‘unable to connect to this number, please try again later.’”

“What's he playing at?” Simon asked, perplexed.

“Oh come on, does that sound like something Tony would do?” Sandra was still determined to give the absent Tony the benefit of the doubt.

“No, I don’t suppose it does,” Simon relented a little. “even if he was hungover from some raucous night’s partying he would have let us know… and to switch off his mobile, well, something just doesn’t add up here, does it?”

Now he was beginning to get a bit concerned too although he didn’t show it to Sandra.

Down in Hornlea Carol was berating Brian about Tony’s mobile phone.

“I thought I told you to get rid of that thing!” she screamed at him, “if Tony does say that he loves me I’ll buy him a new one, no I’ll buy him three… if he doesn’t then he’s not going to need one where he’s going… and what’s that on your wrist?” She had spotted Tony’s watch. “It’s not as if you need to steal other peoples’ belongings. We can afford to buy our own, or so you told me when mother died,” she pointed out.

“I,uh, … well it looked nice,” Brian said in his defence at having stolen Tony’s watch.

“Great, ‘it looked nice’ - that's a fine excuse. I’m sure the police would love that.”

“It’s just… well… the others that we ‘disposed’ of, I put them in their ‘resting places’ complete with their watches, mobiles, even wallets…” he looked again at the watch. “It just seemed too nice to dispose of.”

“Well, put it up in the big chest in the attic and if Tony doesn’t says he loves me, you can have it, but if he says that he does, then you’ll give it back” Part of her already knew that Tony could never really say that he loved her but the other part which still lived in her imaginary world, really wished with all her heart that he would .

Back in the Rehab Centre, Sandra and Simon sat staring at the phone as if it was suddenly going to come to life and ring by its own volition and tell them exactly where Tony was.

“So, what do we do now?” Sandra asked.

“Well, let’s give him an hour or two and see if he turns up. After all he is a grown man and I don’t think he’d be too pleased if we created a big fuss and then he turned up with a perfectly logical explanation.” Then to no one in particular he added; “Come on Tony, what are you up to?”

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

At that precise moment Tony wasn’t really capable of ‘getting up to’ anything.

He had not long come round from the previous day’s drugged coffee and was taking stock of his surroundings.

He seemed to be in some sort of a small cell and was sitting on an old settee cushion on the bare concrete floor. There was no other furniture. There were no windows. The only illumination came from a single low-wattage bulb suspended high on the ceiling. A stout wooden door barred the only exit.

His wrists were manacled and he was secured to the cold brick wall by a chain around his waist. Another piece of chain was linked through the handcuffs and then passed through a wall mounted loop slightly above him. Clearly he was going nowhere. He couldn’t even cry out as a piece of tape was secured across his mouth.

His back and arms were stiff and sore but he could do nothing to alleviate the situation so had to resign himself to the fact that he would just have to wait and see what happened next. It was a long wait. His watch had been removed for some reason so he had no idea what time of day it was, if indeed it was still daytime as he had been unconscious, so night could have come and perhaps gone for all he knew.

He had seen things like this on TV in those increasingly popular psychological dramas but never in a million years did he ever think it would happen to him.

He was an MS nurse for goodness sake!

So, as he sat there for what seemed like hours, he began to ask himself questions like ‘why’? Why was this happening to him and what on earth had he ever done to anyone that it could merit this?

It couldn’t be for drugs, because unlike doctors he didn’t carry any. Ransom then? Surely not. Plus the Rehab Centre knew where he had gone and his BMW was still in the Golf Course car park proving, surely, that he had never left Hornlea.

Or so he thought. Unbeknown to him, Brian had spent most of the previous night in a draughty railway station over 200 miles away, waiting for the 8.15 am. back to Hornlea, after setting fire to Tony’s car on a near-desolate back country road to avoid detection by passing motorists.

The who was the only easy part - Carol and that odd brother of hers, Brian.

They had drugged his coffee that was why it had tasted so foul. Suddenly he heard several bolts being drawn back and the door to the little prison cell swung open.

Brian entered the confined space carrying a mug and a flask. He set them down without a word then left.

Tony stared at them. Was this one of Carol and Brian’s cruel little games?

Set food or drink before him, but totally out of reach? He wondered what was in the flask, hoping that it was something to drink…. as long as it wasn’t more drugged coffee!

The door was then pushed further open and Carol entered. She sat down on the floor beside him and gently eased the tape from his mouth. Despite her show of tenderness it still hurt.

‘Must be needing a shave,’ he thought. That meant he must have been here all night.

Carol then busied herself screwing the top off the flask and pouring some steaming liquid into the mug. She held it up for him to drink. It smelt like chicken soup.

Despite feeling hungry as well as thirsty, he turned his head away, acutely aware of what had happened the last time she had offered him anything. How innocent the coffee had seemed apart from the taste.

Sensing his trepidation Carol shook her head sadly. “Tony, Tony you have to eat. Look…” she took a sip from the mug, “there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

He felt like saying ‘Says you,’ but instead said; “Carol why? Why are you doing this to me?” There was a slight note of pleading in his voice which he couldn’t quite disguise, no matter how much he didn’t want her to see just how concerned he was becoming for his safety.

“Oh Tony darling, don’t you know?” She smiled sweetly at him.

Shocked he looked at her. “What did you just say?” he asked, knowing, but somehow hoping, that he had heard wrong.

“Darling, sweetheart, I don’t mind, whatever you prefer,” she answered shyly, a little smile dancing at the corners of her mouth.

“Oh Tony,why don’t we stop all these silly little games and then you can admit how you really feel about me?”

“Admit what?” he asked puzzled.

“That you love me of course.” It was said as a statement of fact. In her warped world it rang true to her ears.

Thunderstruck he just stared at her. Did she really think that he loved her?

Here he was, chained up in what he took to be the cellar of her house and she was actually asking him to say that he loved her!

Unbelievable, especially as he had never given her the slightest reason to think that he was even remotely interested in her. He was always so careful around women patients in case any of them got the wrong idea. Sometimes it seemed like an uphill struggle as quite a number of them seemed to fancy him and some weren’t past letting him know albeit in a round-about way. Others had even tried the more direct

approach, which he had had to handle very carefully.

She took his silence to mean denial and became angry, Her mood and demeanour changing rapidly. “You're just going to be like all the rest aren’t you!” she spat at him. “ ‘All the rest’? Who are ‘all the rest’?” he asked with a puzzled frown.

“Were, Tony, were. Past tense, now. They were Luke, Mike, Jeremy and John.

Or the fab four as we all used to call them. Only they weren’t fabulous, far from it.

No way, in fact they turned out to be the exact opposite. They were silly little men really and I don’t know what I ever saw in any of them.” she shook her head at the memory, “do you know, two of them even cried at the end, trying to save their own miserable, useless lives.”

He didn’t like the sound of this but had to ask, “What do you mean ‘at the end’, what happened to them?”

“Oh they're still here,” she said matter of factly. Again that little smile. “Luke is under the greenhouse, Mike is under the patio, Jeremy’s place is under the extension and John is under the new wheelchair ramp at the back of the house.”

Tony felt a cold chill run through him. “What!” Was all he managed to say in horror. Was she telling the truth? It sounded so incredulous. She was being so calm about it all as though she were asking him what he took in his tea, milk or sugar, not discussing the murder and disposal of four living, breathing human beings.

He almost asked her if she were joking but one look at her face said that she wasn't.

In fact it screamed it.

“Now you….” she caressed his face with her fingertips. Her mood changing once again. “I thought you were going to be different. So nice, so caring.” She had leant forward as she whispered the words in his ear and he could feel her hot breath on his skin.

He tried to pull away from her, which only aggravated her again. The speed of her mood swings was even frightening.

“Typical! Why do you all keep doing this to me?” Tears sounded in her voice.

“Doing what?” he asked, totally confused by her abrupt changes in mood. It was getting hard to keep up with her.

“Pretending that you love me and then denying it, that’s what.”

“Now Carol, when did I ever say that I loved you? Did I ever give you that impression? If I did then I’m truly sorry, I never meant to. Its more than my job’s worth to get involved with a female patient.” He tried to explain to her but she was having none of it; blocking out what she didn’t want to hear.

“Oh you’ll be sorry all right! You can join Jeremy under the extension. Brian hasn’t finished the floor yet, so it shouldn’t be a big problem for him to dig another hole, plus it’s mostly out of sight of the nosey neighbours.” She informed him.

Tony felt ill. Was he really going to end up buried under this mad woman’s house extension?

“Carol…please…” he began.

“No Tony, you had your chance, now take the consequences.” In her mind she felt as though another person had betrayed her. Her mother’s laughter echoed in her ears.

She picked up the mug and threw the soup against the wall before departing, slamming the door behind her.

Tony watched as the liquid made its way slowly to the floor.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Half-past two saw Simon driving into Hornlea’s main car park which at that time of day was half empty. The morning shoppers, delivery vans and school run mums having departed to pastures new.

So, Simon wondered, where exactly had Tony been for the past day and a half?

Why hadn’t he contacted them if something was seriously wrong? Then there was the mystery of the switched off phone. Why would he do something like that?

It just didn’t make sense.

As he drove around the car park, Simon could see no sign of Tony’s dark blue BMW and was about to widen his search to other parts of the town when he spotted a set of golf clubs in the back of someone’s 4x4.

“Of course!” he almost shouted out loud as the revelation struck him, “the golf course!” for although he didn’t play golf himself, Tony had laughingly informed Simon and Sandra that the next time he came to Hornlea he was going to bring a set of clubs, ‘the golf course is the only place you can get a parking space!’ he had joked.

Simon drove over to the town’s golf course but there were no cars in the car park. He was just turning his car to leave when he spotted someone who appeared to be a groundsman about to trim some border grass. The man looked the typical outdoors type with a healthy weather beaten face and windswept greying hair. Simon parked the car and went over to the man for a quick word.

“You didn’t notice a blue BMW parked here yesterday by any chance?”

“Well as a matter of fact I did. It sat here all afternoon and not a soul near it.

It was still here about half eleven last night when I finished up in the Clubhouse, but was gone by twelve this morning when I came in to work. Just thought some visitor had parked here while they went round the town or something. You looking for the driver?” he enquired, intrigued.

“As a matter of fact I am,” he didn't add that the ‘driver’ had failed to turn up for work today and hadn’t been seen or heard from since yesterday morning when he had left to do home visits.

“Sorry can’t help you on that one,” the man sounded genuinely apologetic that he couldn’t be of more help.

Simon thanked him anyway and made his way back to his own car. Stranger and stranger, he thought. So Tony must have left Hornlea after his appointment with

Carol Finlay, which had been between around twelve yesterday and twelve today if the man was to be believed, but to go where? Surely he couldn’t have been at a party, one that no one seemed to know anything about, all yesterday afternoon and half the night, when he knew he had work in the morning and without saying a word to a soul?

It was completely out of character. Sitting in his own car Simon decided to do a little back-tracking. Sandra had said that Mr Bryson had been seen as had Carol Finlay, but Tony hadn’t made it to Marie Lane’s for her two o'clock appointment, so Carol was the last person to see Tony, and what of this party? Had he said anything more to her which could help him be located? Like where this mysterious party had been held? He decided to pay the Finlay’s a visit.

The rain was just starting to come on as he rang the Finlay’s doorbell. He had to wait a few moments before Carol answered the front door. She looked flustered and despite knowing him from the Rehab Centre she didn’t ask him in. “What is it?” she asked rather curtly, as though he had disturbed her in the middle of something rather important.

“Sorry to bother you Carol, but have you thought of anything else that Tony might have said that could help us find him? How did he appear when he left you yesterday? Did he seem worried about anything? Or say where exactly he was going after he left you?”

“He was fine when he left here, like I told that woman from the Centre who phoned earlier, he said he was going to a birthday party and didn’t want to be late.

That’s all I know, I’m not his keeper!” It took all the willpower that she had not to laugh out loud at her own joke as that's exactly what she was - his keeper, and his jailer. He was her prisoner, languishing in her cellar.

Simon was a bit downcast as he had felt sure Carol could shed some light on things. “Well thanks anyway Carol, if you do think of anything, will you let us know?”

“Oh all right then,” she said, rather grudgingly Simon thought, as if it was going to be a major inconvenience to her to lift the phone. “I really can't see how I can help you. It was my brother Brian who showed him out and then he remarked on what a short visit we had had.”

“When exactly did he leave? Can you remember? You see Carol that’s what we can’t understand. That’s so unlike him to leave someone early. He had you down for an hour’s visit.”

“I don't know about that, but that’s what he did. Left about, oh, let’s see, the one o’clock news hadn’t come on, I like to see it, and there was about half of the previous programme that we managed to see, so I’d say twelve thirty-five? Anyway I’ll let you know if I think of anything else,” she relented slightly.

Simon had no choice but to leave as she was already closing the door.

Down in the cellar Tony had heard most of what had been said and was now screaming his head off… inside his own mind. ‘Simon I'm down here, in the cellar!

Help me Simon. Help me! No don't go! Help!’ But not a sound passed his lips, as Brian had secured another piece of tape across his mouth. He couldn’t believe that deliverance from this nightmare had been so close, but now like Simon it had gone, leaving him to a very uncertain future, if indeed he had one.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

As he turned away from the door, Simon just couldn’t understand it, this whole escapade was getting stranger and stranger by the minute. Why had Carol been so off hand and where in the world was Tony’s car? More to the point, where was he?

He just seemed to have vanished, but people don’t just disappear, do they?

Not without a good reason. There had to be a simple solution to all of this but what was it? One didn’t readily spring to mind. If it had happened after Tony’s divorce he might have suffered from depression, but no, he and Serena had parted on amicable terms, so even that wouldn’t have done it, and he wasn't prone to bouts of depression anyway.

Just as Simon started down the garden path a little blond woman came struggling through next door’s front gate. She was weighed down with parcels from the sales.

Most were escaping from her grasp.

“Here, let me help you,” Simon offered gathering up the wayward packages.

“Oh thanks, Josh, that’s my husband, always says I buy too much at the sales, but I like a bargain, what woman doesn’t? she gave a little conspiratorial laugh.

“That’s why he doesn’t like coming with me”.

“True,” Simon admitted, wondered what Fiona would have bought this time, as she too couldn't resist a ‘Special Offer’ or ‘Half Price’ sale despite not having to skimp on things. He carried the parcels to the front door just as it was opened by a tall blond man.

“My saviour and knight in shining armour,” the woman said, indicating Simon with a nod in his direction.

Simon handed the packages to the man who gave him a look as if to say, ‘Oh no not again!’ There was an instantaneous bonding between the two men as they both knew what it was like to have a wife who liked to shop and loved the sales.

Simon turned to go but on impulse turned back. “I don't suppose either of you noticed a man leaving the Finlay’s yesterday at around, say twelve thirty or so?

Maybe a little later,” He didn't hold out much hope of a positive answer but felt he had to try anyway.

“Sorry, can't say that I did.” It was Josh who replied.

“What did he look like, this man you’re looking for?” Amy asked, her curiosity aroused. She liked to know all things, and right now it was ‘why is this man who

has just left the Finlay’s asking about someone and more to the point who is he?

Simon thought for a moment on how best to describe Tony. “Oh about six foot, dark hair, about forty,” was the best he could come up with, “probably wearing a dark brown jacket.” That was what he had last seen Tony wearing. “‘Dishy Doc!’ I bet it is!” Amy exclaimed excitedly.

Despite the severity of the situation Simon had to laugh. “Well you got that right. He often gets mistaken for a doctor when he does home visits, but he’s actually an MS specialist nurse, like me, and as for the dishy part, I’ve overheard quite a few women refer to him like that. Oh I’m Simon Smith, by the way, his name’s Tony Barclay.”

“Josh and Amy Johansen,” Amy introduced her husband and herself.

“Pleased to meet you. Anyway, as I was saying, we’re trying to find out where Tony went after he visited the Finlay’s yesterday. You see he hasn’t turned up for work this morning and that’s just not like him. Plus, we can’t contact him on his mobile phone, which is very strange,” he informed the Johansens. “He saw Carol at twelve, only she says he left about twelve thirty. That meant that he only gave her half of her allotted time and he didn’t keep his next appointment at two, which just isn't like him at all,” he explained to them.

“So, Carol was probably the last person to see him?” Amy asked.

“Looks like it,” Simon had to admit.

Josh and Amy exchanged knowing looks as if to say ‘see, I told you something odd was going on next door’.

“What?” Simon asked puzzled by their unspoken words.

“Well…” Amy began, “We were just saying yesterday that quite a few men seem to have ‘disappeared’ recently and the last time we saw them they had had something to do with the Finlay’s. Now it looks like your doctor, sorry MS nurse, friend is another one. We can’t prove anything but it all does seem a bit odd with what’s been going on in there,” she looked towards next door.

“Now, now,” Josh spoke for the first time, “you can’t go accusing people when we haven’t any proof,” he reproached her.

“Well what about all that noise, remember? Even you thought Brian was dragging a body through the hall.” She accused her husband but on seeing the concern grow on Simon’s face at the mention of ‘a body’ she tried to reassure him. “Oh that was quite a few weeks ago. Look, why don’t you come in for a minute and then we can discuss what we think might be happening in the Finlay’s. ”Amy led the way followed

by Simon, Josh bringing up the rear.

They all made their way in to the front room and sat down. Josh took one of the big comfortable looking recliners Amy took the other one. Simon was left with the sofa which was obviously for guests. Their home was nicely decorated, warm and inviting. It had a ‘lived in’ look about it. Pale green seemed to be the predominant colour of the décor and at the window sat an assortment of healthy

looking plants. A few scented candles were dotted about the place interspersed with some expensive looking ornaments.

Simon was the one who began, “You were saying that quite a few men have disappeared recently.”

It was Josh who took up the narrative now. “Well we can’t be sure…”

Amy cut him off, “Oh come on. First Mike Lawler didn't turn up for work…”

“They said he went to Holland to find work.” It was his turn to cut into her story.

Undaunted Amy went on, “Then little Luke, oh that’s Luke Sutton,” she explained for Simon’s benefit. “Next Jeremy Timpson…”

“Amy, they say he committed suicide and went off Breezy Point. It’s high cliffs and notorious for that sort of thing. Treacherous currents too, so I doubt a body will ever surface.” Again the explanation for Simon who didn’t even know that there was a Breezy Point “Well, can you see anyone committing suicide and leaving behind a wife, four children and a fifth on the way?” she asked Simon, “Especially since he and Julie have been married since they were hardly out of school. Childhood sweethearts,” she added for Simon’s benefit. He had to admit it did sound a bit unlikely.

“Then who did I say I haven’t seen for a while? John Reynolds!” she ended triumphantly.

Josh was quiet for a few minutes then dropped the bombshell, “You know, rearrange the names and what have you got?”

Simon and Amy just looked at him.

“Luke, Mike Jeremy and John - the fab four!”

“You're right!” Amy exclaimed. “Why didn’t I see it before! Oh, let me explain,” she turned her attention towards Simon again, “when we were in school…”

“Which wasn’t yesterday,” Josh interjected with a wry smile.

“As I was saying,” totally ignoring him she continued, “ when we were in school, actually both primary and secondary, there were these four boys. Always in trouble or mischief of one kind or another. As there were the four of them they decided on the nickname the ‘fab four’ only they weren't fabulous, far from it. Come to think of it didn’t they use to torment poor Carol?”

“Well I saw her crying in the playground sometimes,” Josh admitted, but being the exchange student he hadn’t wanted to intervene.

“You won’t remember this as it was before you came over from Sweden, but Brian was a member of the gang too, but there seemed to be some sort of falling out, something to do with jam and a school bag,” she was annoyed she couldn’t remember more of the incident, “well, let’s suppose that he never really forgave them?” she suggested.

“Oh come on if what you’re saying is true then he’s held a grudge for nearly thirty years.” Josh looked a his wife in disbelief.

“Well why not? You see the Finlay’s were always considered an odd family at the best of times and I do know for a fact that Carol doesn’t see things the way we do.”

“How do you know?” Josh asked.

“Once when we were about, oh, ten or twelve, I really felt sorry for her and decided to try and make friends. We got talking, as girls do, about boys and do you know what she told me?”

“What?” both men said in unison as neither could figure out the female mind.

Then or otherwise.

“She actually thought that the fab four were in love with her and that was why they each teased her so much, so that the other three wouldn’t suspect. She said she didn’t know which one to pick for her husband! Poor girl had had such a time of it with that mother of hers that she’d invented a whole world for herself, where everything was nice and everyone liked her. She could make it how she wanted it all to be. Reality had been replaced by make believe.”

“OK, so what's that got to do with Tony?” Simon asked, because fascinating as it all was how did it help in finding him? He hadn't been at school with Carol or Brian.

“Don't you see? Didn't I tell you she was like a lovestruck schoolgirl when she was sitting out in the garden with him that afternoon,” she asked her husband.

“You mean you think he’s still in the Finlay’s house?” Simon asked her, trying to guess where she was going with all of this.

“Got to be and we can’t just leave him!” Amy was indignant about that.

“But we can’t just go round, knock on the door and say ‘excuse me Carol, but are you keeping your MS nurse a prisoner?’ ” Josh told her, because much as he would do anything within reason for his wife, that was something he felt he couldn’t do.

“Oh, can’t we?” Amy had that superior look on her face like the cat that had got the cream.

‘Oh no,’ Thought Josh, ‘she’s thought of something.’

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Tony was hungry. He couldn’t remember when he had last eaten and he wished now that he had accepted Carol’s offer of the food. He still had no idea what time it was or how long it was since she had thrown the soup against the wall. Most had by now reached the floor and had created a sticky mess. Whoever came in next would have to watch that they didn’t slip… and he couldn’t help maliciously wishing that it would be Brian. That grin of his was to say the least very, very annoying.

Tony wanted to wipe the smirk off his face, but how could he? He couldn't even stand upright because of the chains.

The door opened and Brian stood there for a few seconds as if judging something. He was carrying a tray with an unopened can of coke and some sandwiches on a plate. He didn’t enter. It was as if he were having a look for the sticky mess trying to guess where it was exactly before entering, then he nimbly sidestepped it. “Can’t go slipping up now, can I?” he remarked with a grin. “Hungry now?” he mocked, yet he knew Tony must be. He set the tray on the floor and retreated again with that evil grin still plastered to his face. He was beginning to remind Tony of ‘The Joker’ from ‘Batman’. Brian was clearly enjoying all of this.

He seemed for the first time since Tony had met him, to be in his element.

Carol again entered the cramped space and sat down beside Tony. She had also missed the soup and after sitting, she pulled the tape none too gently this time from his mouth. “Ready to eat something this time?” she asked, “or maybe you’d like a drink first?” She opened the can and held it up for him to drink. At least an unopened can of coke couldn’t be drugged, could it? He wondered. He took a sip anyway then drank it eagerly. He hadn’t realised just how thirsty he was. Carol then offered him a sandwich.

He was hesitant to take a bite and she gave an exasperated sigh and bit off a piece herself, chewed, swallowed. “Now eat!” She commanded him.

He ate in silence as she watched every bite he took until the plate was cleared.

Then he thought he’d try to reason with her, maybe make her see some sense as he knew very little of her past life and of her imaginary make believe world.

“You won’t get away with this Carol,” he began, “people will come looking for me and they know that I was coming to see you. How are you going to explain things when they find me? You can’t imprison someone in your cellar and hope to get away with it.”

She was having none of it. “Rubbish! I can do what I like. Anyway your little friend Simon was here earlier and I sent him away, remember? I can keep you here for as long as I like!” she finished with a note of triumph in her voice.

“But Carol … sweetheart…” he had decided now that a different approach might be called for. So tried to cajole her. Let her hear what she wanted to. He had to figure out a way of getting out of this and getting out of these chains. If he had to lie to her and flatter her then so be it. “What kind of a life can we have together if you keep me chained up down here?” He hung his head desperately trying to make her feel sorry for him. “Don't you want to go out with me, meet my friends, be a part of my life like I want to be a part of yours?” he hoped his lies sounded convincing. “I want to introduce you to my friends as my girlfriend. The woman I’ve fallen in love with and will hopefully marry, if she’ll have me?” Was that last bit too over the top? He wondered. Would she believe him? She seemed to be living in a world of her own separated from reality. She couldn’t be entirely sane if she had helped murder four people, concealed their bodies in various parts of the house and continued to live there as though nothing was amiss.

“Oh Tony…” It was what she had wanted to hear all her life. That someone loved her.

Unfortunately there came a slow hand clapping from the doorway. It was Brian.

“Oh very good,” he mocked, “Carol, he’s only trying to fool you, like the others did. They didn’t love you, remember? Remember how John mocked you and laughed at you? Well this one is the same. He’s only fooling with your mind to get out of here.” Tony thought that he saw tears in her eyes.

“You’re right. I should have listened to you and mother. No one will ever love me,” she almost sobbed but quickly regained her composure and as she did so her mood became harsh again. “Well, Tony I was willing to give you another chance but Brian’s right. You couldn’t love me. It’s just as mother said. No one ever will. Well …” she got up off the floor, “I think it’s time I left Brian to deal with you.”

Tony tried desperately to get her to listen to him. “Carol you’ve got to believe me, I do love you.” It was a last ditch attempt that failed.

She totally ignored his plea and staggered out of the door. The stress and upset of being rejected once more taking its toll and making her MS affect her balance again.

When she was well out of earshot Brian came back in to the cell to retrieve the tray and empty can. He also had a roll of duct tape in his hands, tore off a piece and stuck it across Tony’s mouth again.

“Well, it won’t be long now Mr MS specialist nurse till you just become another statistic. One of those people who for no apparent reason go missing never to be found. I always knew you wouldn’t say you loved Carol, who could when they don't know her? But she likes to play her little games and in her world they make sense.

If it keeps her happy… D'you know she’s always thought that no one loves her, but I do. If things had been different I'd have married her.”

“But she's your sister!” Tony shouted at him, but the piece of tape prevented him from making any intelligible sound.

“Anyway enough with the explaining, I’ve got messages to do.”

With that he turned, slammed the door shut, shot the bolts home and left Tony alone, wondering just how long he had to live.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

Eventually feeling totally exhausted by his ordeal Tony slept but with the sleep came the nightmare. Brian was chasing him with an axe which was dripping blood, Carol stood by and laughed clearly enjoying the spectacle. Four skeletons stood behind her rattling their severed bones like some macabre and gruesome string-less puppets.

Tony tried to run but found that he couldn’t as his legs wouldn’t work. Try as he might he couldn’t escape his fate…

He awoke in a cold sweat to the sound of knocking and it took him a few dazed seconds to realise that it was coming from upstairs. Had Simon come back? Had he realised that something was amiss? Was he here to rescue him? Thoughts charged through his mind but were almost instantaneously dashed as he heard that the caller was a woman.

As he listened he heard the sound of the front door being closed and then the sound of two pairs of feet as Carol and her ‘visitor’ made their way through the hall towards the back of the house and the kitchen.

He was so desperate to cry out for help that a tear of frustration ran down his face. Help was so near… was there to be no end to this living nightmare but ultimate death at Brian’s hands?

A few more minutes passed and then he heard the bolts on the door being oh so quietly drawn back. His heart hammered in his chest. He wondered, had Brian come back already to finish him off? Was this to be the end of his life, chained up in a dingy cellar and buried under some renovation never to be found? He thought about all the things he should have done, should have said, all the places he had wanted to see. People he had wanted to meet. Was it all to end like this in what he considered to be a totally wasted life?

Slowly, agonisingly slowly, the door opened and… Simon stood there! He had, for some reason, come back! Tony could hardly believe it. Deliverance was at hand!

He was safe! He would be free and given another chance at life. Something a lot of people don’t get.

Simon’s eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. A dishevelled looking Tony, sitting on an old settee cushion on the floor, manacled and chained to the wall. A piece of tape was stuck across his mouth and he was badly in need of a shave.

Simon threw back the door and was about to enter the little prison when he noticed a look of panic in Tony’s eyes. Although unable to speak he was obviously trying

to convey something to Simon.

Without thinking Simon took a step into the little room and promptly landed on his rear. Realising what had happened he even managed to crack a joke about the situation. “Well that's one pair of trousers that will have to go to the dry cleaners!” he said, getting up and noticing the soup stain.

It was all too obvious now what Tony had been trying to convey to him: ‘Watch the puddle!’ However the panic didn’t leave Tony's eyes and Simon wondered, ‘what now?’ until he heard the small movement behind him.

“Well, well two for the price of one. How very generous of you Mr Smith to put in another appearance. This will save me a lot of bother hunting you down” Brian said, “the only trouble is that it’s going to get pretty crowded under the extension, isn’t it?”

Tony knew what he meant but Simon didn’t. However what all three men did know full well was that, in a fight, Simon was going to be no match for the muscle bound Brian. However, instead of trying to fight Simon let out a mighty yell: “Run Amy, get the police!”

It took everyone off guard for a few seconds and then Brian recovered and hit Simon with a right hook, sending him sprawling backwards again. It gave Brian just enough time to slam the door shut trapping the two MS nurses.

Upstairs both Amy and Carol heard Simon’s frantic call for help and being nearer the kitchen door Amy bolted. She made it outside and spotting two workmen who were repairing a burst water main she yelled at them ‘get the police!’

The door was slammed behind her just as Josh came round the side of the building. “What's wrong? What's happened?” he asked a breathless Amy. Instead of answering him she launched an attack. “What happened!

What happened to you? You were supposed to be watching for Brian! Delaying him if need be. Now he’s in there with Simon and hopefully Tony… if he's still alive!” she added for dramatic effect and to make her husband feel all the more guilty for allowing Brian back into the house.

“Well I was watching for him but he came back early and surprised me, he was in before I could stop him - and what was I supposed to do then? I couldn’t just walk in after him could I?” he tried to defend his actions, or lack of them.

The two workmen had joined them by now. “What's wrong lady?” the elder one of them asked.

“They’ve got Simon in there and ‘Dishy Doc’, if he's still alive.”

“Dishy Doc? Who’s this ‘Dishy Doc’ then, and what’s this about him still being alive?” the workman asked.

“Oh he’s not really a doctor,” Amy started to explain, “he’s an MS nurse like his friend Simon.”

“A what?” this from the younger workman, clearly puzzled.

“Multiple Sclerosis,” Josh helped out.

“You know, like Auntie Jean has,” his workmate explained. “but what did you mean ‘still alive’?” he persisted.

“Its the Finlay’s,” said Amy, “we’re convinced they’ve been doing people in and the brother must have been burying them under all that building work that he’s been doing.”

“Well, you are,” Josh still wasn't going to commit himself to anything. He didn’t want the Finlay’s to take him to court for slander and defamation of character if they were proved wrong. He always erred on the side of caution anyway.

“Oh twaddle,” Amy gave him a sour look. “while we’re all stood gossiping out here goodness knows what's going on in there! Did you phone for the police?” she asked the workmen.

“Well not yet, thought we’d better see what all the commotion was about,” the elder one admitted.

“Oh give me your phone Josh, I'll phone them and if we’re wrong then I’ll take the blame,” she stated adamantly. ‘Men!’ she thought in exasperation.

Obediently Josh handed over the phone. He knew better than to try to argue when his wife got a bee in her bonnet about something.

She had just dialled the number and was trying to explain to the police call handler what the problem was when there was a crash from the side of the house. They all ran round to find Brian ensnared by the garden fence. He had obviously been trying to clamber over it and make his escape but it had given way under his weight.

“Stop him!” Amy yelled as Brian tried to untangle himself from the pieces of fencing.

Down in the cellar, Tony and Simon heard the commotion.

“What now?” Simon asked.

“Don't know,” Tony replied. “tell me, how did you know I was down here?” he quizzed Simon.

“Next door neighbours. They’ve been suspicious about the Finlays for quite some time now and if you hadn’t been such a ‘Dishy Doc’ they wouldn’t have been keeping such a close eye on you,” Simon grinned at his colleague.

“A what?!”

“Oh come on Tony, surely you’ve heard some of the nurses and other females refer to you as the ‘Dishy Doc’?”

“Really?” Tony was genuinely surprised but a little pleased, as he had never thought of himself as particularly handsome, or that the female population would label him ‘Dishy’.

“What’s it like to be so popular with all the ladies?” Simon asked.

“Oh it’s great.” Tony made a wry face. “Look where it gets you. Chained up in someone's cellar and facing an uncertain death at the hands of a couple of psychos, and likely to be buried under a house extension.” He added sarcastically.

Suddenly there was a scream, followed by the sound of someone falling down the

stairs. Outside, the little group heard it too. “Carol!� Brian yelled desperately, trying to break free from the two workmen who held him. He was struggling so fiercely that the men were having trouble holding him and with almost superhuman strength, he broke free and ran towards the house.

The others followed in his wake.

He reached it first and almost fell down the cellar stairs, taking three at a time.

At the bottom lay Carol. A large kitchen knife blade protruding from her back.

It was clear that it had gone straight through her heart by the way she had fallen.

Brian cradled her in his arms, sobbing openly.

The little group stood at the top of the stairs mesmerised by the scene before them; only being brought out of their reverie by the sound of police sirens.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

At the subsequent trial, Brian was sentenced to life imprisonment for the murder of Mike Lawler, Jeremy Timpson, Luke Sutton and John Reynolds. He was also charged with the unlawful imprisonment of MS specialist nurses Anthony James Barclay and Simon Michael Smith.

With Tony’s help, the four mens’ remains were located exactly where Carol had indicated and were given decent burials. Their families, where appropriate, were notified, with Julie Timpson at last being believed that her husband had in fact not commit suicide but was murdered.

Giving his testimony, Brian did at last come clean and admit that Carol was in fact not his real sister, much to the gasps from all that knew them, for although it had long been suspected, no proof had ever been forthcoming until now.

He also stated that he thought that Carol had been trying to reach Tony when she fell. Her balance finally betraying her.

“She knew deep down that you didn’t really love her,” He told Tony, “She had to punish those who rejected her and was probably on her way to kill you, as she knew that I couldn’t, having run into the workmen outside,” he explained. It was a chilling thought that she had been willing to kill just as Brian had.

It took quite a few months before Tony felt confident enough to return to doing home visits on his own again, a nurse having to accompany him until he did so, but Simon soldiered on covering for him and most people understood after what he had been through.

He also developed a distinct aversion to coffee. Even the good brands.

At one point he did ask Simon if he thought he should leave nursing and go for another career, but neither man had any idea what that might be, so he did return to full work at the Rehabilitation Centre.

Sandra, amongst others, was very glad to see him back.

“We’ve got our ‘Dishy Doc’ back!” she told one of the other nurses, a giant smile on her face; she felt that there was hope for her yet.

PART THREE:

BRIAN AND CARLY

CHAPTER THIRTY Carol Finlay had been dead now for 3 years. Her ‘brother’ Brian had languished in Calverton maximum security prison for the criminally insane since his life sentence, for the murder of her four childhood tormentors and the unlawful imprisonment of her MS nurse, Anthony James Barclay and his colleague and fellow MS nurse, Simon Michael Smith.

Tony and Simon had returned to their work at the Rehab Centre and the Johansens had moved back to Sweden to be with his now ailing mother of 72.

It may have seemed odd to some people that both the brother and sister could be classified as psychopaths, but when they came to realise that they both had had different biological parents it didn’t seem quite so strange, when it was disclosed at the trial that no one knew for certain who Brian’s real parents had been.

He had been a foundling being placed in an orphanage from around the age of three weeks old until the Finlay’s had finally adopted him back in the 1950s.

The person he had been left with had been unable to keep him, as Mrs Carr had been a widow for some 30 odd years and was 82 when she had found the little screaming bundle wrapped in a blue blanket dumped on her doorstep.

The Finlay’s little house in Hornlea had now been bulldozed and the empty space turned into a much needed car park just as Tony had envisaged.

Despite reaching the grand old age of 42 Tony was still considered the ‘Dishy Doc’ of the past, a twinkling of silver through his dark hair only further adding to his allure.

It was a phrase the tabloids had loved: ‘Dishy Doc’ imprisoned by crazed patient, they screamed from their front pages or Crazy patient falls for her ‘Dishy Doc’ - chains him up in cellar.’ Tony just wanted to be left alone to return to his normal work. He had hated all the publicity.

Eventually the media frenzy did die down as they found other stories to occupy their attention and he was left to minister to his legitimate MS patients. Some devious reporters had even tried to feign having MS themselves just to gain an ‘exclusive’.

They didn’t succeed however as they had no legitimate backing or referrals from reputable doctors and knew little about the condition themselves, so were easily caught out by an MS specialist nurse.

So it was that the author J. Carlton Howard, ‘Carly’ for short, despite being of the male gender, entered onto the stage from far right - or Canada to be exact - this having been only a temporary home for him, his original home being New Zealand.

Once he had reached Canada he had decided to join and do an expose on a religious cult called ‘The Enlightened One.’ The cult’s headquarters were located half way up a rocky mountain. Many people had ‘disappeared’ from this cult over the past ten years or so and had been presumed murdered although there had never been any factual evidence. Eventually, being found out for what he really was - an investigative author who wrote about real as well as fictional crime - Carly was ‘politely’ asked to leave. In reality he was very forceably thrown out of the cult’s compound by two burly ‘guards’, complete with his few belongings. He was too high a profile person to just ‘disappear’ from the cult without a good reason.

Making his way to Toronto he found that the city life was no longer for him and he decided to head for the homeland of his grandfathers, which happened to be Scotland.

So it was, that he found himself on a plane jetting over the Atlantic and reading an article in a periodical which had obviously been left behind by a previous passenger.

The article was entitled ‘Why do some female patients fall in love with their doctors?’

In the article the author also cited the case of one Carol Finlay who had fallen (quite literally) for her MS nurse, Tony Barclay, along with four others whom she had known since her school days and who were known collectively as the ‘fab four’, which thankfully in this case did not refer to the Beatles pop group. They were the ones it was said that she had murdered and disposed of with the help of her brother Brian. Barclay had escaped with the help of his colleague and the neighbours and was still alive.

Intrigued, Carly decided to try and find out more and in particular what had become of her brother. Arriving in the UK he made his base in the little coastal town of Hornlea to be close to where his subjects had lived and to get a feel for the place.

He had decided to write about Carol and Brian and tell their story not the sensationalised versions contained in what he considered to be the gutter press of the day. He was particularly interested in this Tony Barclay. What had he done to make such a sweet looking young girl, as the newspaper photos at that time had portrayed her to be, do such awful things? He did not believe that anyone so demure and innocent looking in the press photo, (which happened to be several years out of date), could be responsible for the deaths of four grown men and to continue to live in the same house as their remains. The psychiatrists, according to Carly had got it wrong. He had been out of circulation for so long researching the ‘Cult’ that in a way, he too had lost touch with reality, being slightly and unknowingly brainwashed in the process of his research. Carol had not been a schizophrenic psychopath, he concluded, they had misjudged her. How could this be the monster that everyone had made her out to be to be? To him it was a travesty of justice that she had been portrayed in such an unfavourable manner.

As he could no longer interview her, he would have to make do with the brother.

He was going to right this wrong. He saw Tony Barclay as the dragon in the piece and he was going to be her knight in shining armour, even although the ‘dragon’ had devoured its innocent damsel

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

It was a cold, wet, blustery day in March when Carly went to see Brian in Calverton prison.

He had only really been granted visiting rights because of the fact that he had at one time been a well-read and respected author of crime fact and fiction. Even the guards had read some of his books and liked them. He explained to the governor that he was now about to commence writing a on certain notorious murders over the past 10 years or so and he was granted visiting rights to interview Brian, for research purposes.

He was shown into a small, windowless room which contained a table and two chairs which were bolted firmly to the floor. Brian was shown in, flanked by two guards. They stood back but remained in the room.

Carly got a shock.

Gone was the Brian in the press coverage photos to be replaced by a grey haired, stooped, aged looking man who belied his 40-odd years. He looked like a broken old man, which in fact he was, having never recovered from Carol’s death. He had also lost weight.

He sat down stiffly opposite Carly, wariness creeping into his dulled eyes.

“What do you want?” he asked, suspicion in his voice.

“I want to talk about your sister,” Carly began.

“Knew it!” Brian retorted, “What is it this time? How I fell in love with her?

Was she really not my sister? Was I just a ‘dirty young man’ who wanted his sister because no ordinary woman would look at him? Take your pick mister; I’ve heard it all before.” He started to stand as if to say ‘interview over’.

“No, no, you’ve misunderstood. I want you to tell me about her. How the media of the day could have portrayed her in such an unfavourable light when she looked such a lovely, innocent woman.” Carly had obviously fallen under her spell which had been cast from an old photo. About the only one where she looked kind of happy, but accusatory.

The two guards exchanged glances without a word. They had heard it all before.

The innocent murderer.

Brian’s eyes brightened a little before misting over as he thought of his ‘sister’ and what might have been if only she hadn’t died so young.

“Oh if you'd only known her, she was beautiful.” In Brian’s eyes she always

had been and always would be.

“The newspapers made her out to be some sort of a monster - killing those four men…. and that Tony Barclay! Liar of the century! The things that he said at the trial! The lies he concocted!” Brian was still clearly outraged even after three years, his face going red with rage.

“But didn’t they find him chained up in your cellar?” Carly asked, as this was what he had read.

“Oh yes, that they did,” Brian admitted quite readily, “but what they didn’t print was the fact that I’d put him there to teach him a lesson. Told him about the other four and where they were buried too to scare him. He wouldn’t leave Carol alone.

If I wasn’t there to protect her he would ‘try it on’ with her. Always standing a bit too close, if you know what I mean, or trying to ‘touch her up’"`.

“But how do you explain the deaths of the four men?” Carly asked.

“Same thing. Wouldn’t leave her alone. After her since secondary school, that’s when it all started. You saw her picture, a beautiful girl she was and didn’t they just know it. Really, if truth be told, no woman was safe from them… I had to do something.” He spread his hands pleadingly.

Brian sounded so plausible, so convincing. Even the guards were beginning to have their doubts about his guilt. He certainly seemed to have had a good reason for wanting the ‘fab four’ dead. If that was indeed what they had been doing, making every female in Hornlea’s life a total misery.

“So you admit that you killed them?”

“Of course I killed them, Carol had nothing to do with it.” Brian stated indignantly.

Carol would never take the blame in his eyes. He would protect her reputation till eternity if need be.

“But why didn’t you mention this at your trial?”

“Because who would have believed me? I was up against ‘Dishy Doc’ remember,” Brian explained with a little laugh, “there I was, short and stocky with all that unruly red hair and there he was every woman’s dreamboat. Who would you have believed?”

“Well when you put it like that,” Carly said, having seen press photos of the dashing and handsome Tony Barclay with his film star looks.

“Plus there I was totally unemployable by anyone in Hornlea, and there he was a MS professional nurse doing such good in society,” Brian said with a lot of bitterness in his voice which he made no attempt to conceal.

“But didn’t you say to Barclay at the trial that she had been trying to reach him to kill him with the knife when she fell? If I’m not mistaken you said something about ‘if she couldn't have him then no one would.’” Carly persisted.

“Still wanted to scare him real good, that’s why I said it,” Brian laughed again when he remembered the look on Tony’s face when he had told him, “She'd been carving up chicken for our dinner and must have tried to reach him and that other guy, Simon I think they said his name was, when she fell. Must have still had the knife

in her hand. She was going to let them go.”

Carly thought for a moment. “With a large knife in her hand?” It didn’t make sense.

“Well she didn’t have the key to the padlocks on the chains, must have thought she could have twisted the locks open with the knife or something. Carol wasn’t very technically minded” he lied. Actually she had been just as good if not better than he had been.

“So, Tony Barclay was the one who initiated all of this? In a way it was his own fault that he ended up in your cellar?”

“Course it was!” Brian said indignantly, “Thought he was God’s gift that one.”

“Just what I thought,” Carly nodded in understanding..

Brian looked at him in disbelief. He couldn't believe that someone was going to take his side especially after all of this time. Then he grew suspicious. What did this man with the strange accent want from him? “What are you after, really after mister?” he asked Carly.

“The truth, only the truth.” Carly answered, remembering some of the Enlightened One’s brainwashed teachings.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

Neither Dr Hollander nor Tony Barclay had any idea what Carly was really up to when they saw the tall, thin man at the Rehab Centre that Monday morning.

He wasn’t there to see either of them on a medical matter, he just wanted to have a look around Tony’s workplace and see how he treated the other staff, particularly the female ones. He was checking things out. However he did see Dr Hollander passing by in the reception area. Carly casually stopped a nurse to ask exactly when visiting times were, so as to appear to be there with a legitimate reason.

He then went for a little snoop around eventually ending up at the second hand book table and was surprised to see some of his books for sale at only 50p.

‘My, my’, he thought, how the mighty have fallen’. His books used to sell for £5 to £7 in paperback form alone. Hardbacks were a good deal more.

As he stood there casually looking at the titles on display Tony Barclay came out of his office chatting with Dr Hollander.

“So I’ll see you this Saturday then Jason?” he said as he turned to go.

“Bright and early,” Jason Hollander confirmed, “I’ll be there.” Whatever it was, it sounded as if both men were looking forward to the meeting.

Tony then turned rather too quickly and collided with nurse Jan Peters. She was carrying a boxful of plastic cups to fill up the water dispenser, which in the collision she promptly dropped. She let out a startled, “Oh!”, as they went everywhere.

“My fault,” Tony said smiling at her and bending to help her retrieve her load, “I’ll wash, you dry,” he joked, which they didn’t need to do as the cups were still in their plastic covering.

Standing by and watching all of this, it didn’t read as a simple accident to Carly. To him Barclay had orchestrated the whole thing to chat up the now flustered nurse.

She was another of the Centre’s female staff who held a candle for Tony, yet she knew that she could stand no chance with him, as she was a married woman and hubby was of the jealous type, even at the best of times. Still there was nothing wrong with fancying someone as long as that was as far as it went, she reckoned.

Later that same day Carly paid another visit to Calverton.

He related to Brian what he had seen at the Centre that morning. They were seated in the visitor’s room this time.

“Didn’t I tell you that was what he was like? Anything in a skirt will do that one.”

Brian almost spat the words as his hatred of Tony knew no bounds. He would always blame Tony for Carol’s death. If she just hadn’t been trying to reach him when she fell…. “So what can we do, if anything?” he asked. He wanted revenge more than anything.

“Well, now that I’ve got you interested in ‘writing’ Brian, give your imagination free reign.” Carly meant it to sound as though he were helping him to write a story as one of the guards was on the prowl, to make sure that no one was planning an escape with their visitor, or planning worse.

“Well, I told you what I was going to do and look where it got me for trying to protect my sister.”

“Yes I know, but this time we’re doing ‘research’ for a book.”

Brian looked at Carly. ‘Research for a book’? What was he on about? Did he really have a plan? “So what do you suggest? That I write him to death?”

“Well how about we start off by ruining our ‘villain’s’ illustrious career by getting him to admit his misdemeanour's to his colleagues? He seems to be pretty well in with that associate of his in the ‘story’ so far. That Dutch guy.” (By that Carly meant Dr Hollander who was no more Dutch than Carly himself was). “Then we’ll get him to see the error of his ways and ‘commit suicide’ out of remorse, with a little help from us of course. Fascinating what can be done in writing, Brian, once you get started. You can do almost anything.” This was all being said for the guard’s benefit.

This appealed to Brian enormously. Tony Barclay and his specialist nurse bit got right up his nose. He would always hate Tony for being the one who survived.

The others had been so easily taken care of, but not Barclay. “But how are we going to do all of this in ‘the story?’” Brian asked him, cottoning on to Carly’s way of deluding the guards.

“Ah have faith Brian, have faith,” was Carly’s answer, “Now to business. Being in here you must have got to know a lot of ‘interesting’ people, people who no doubt could help us, with our research.” He said the latter half a little louder as one of the guards strolled past again.

“Help us how?”

“Well, let's say our heroes wanted to get their hands on a special ‘piece of equipment’ how would they go about it? I’m sure someone in here could help.

With the details for the plot that is.” Adding again for the guard’s benefit. Would that man never stop walking about and listening in to other people’s conversations?

“They say it’s very therapeutic, writing that is, keeps your mind occupied.”

Brian looked at Carly. Was this some sort of a trick? He seemed genuine enough.

But could he be trusted? Brian decided ‘why not.’ To get revenge for Carol’s death would be just wonderful! He hoped that somehow he would be able to help this tall thin man with the ‘writing’ and somehow get some real ‘hands on’ experience.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

Tony was tired. It had been a long day at the Centre. All he wanted to do was get home have a shower and get to bed. Some days didn’t seem so bad but others were arduous.

As he drove away from his parking space he failed to notice the rather beaten up green Volvo which pulled out behind him. Nor did he notice when the self same Volvo followed him at a discreet distance all the way to his home, parking just out of sight.

“One down, one still to go,” Carly said to himself as he watched Tony climb the couple of steps to his house. It was situated by itself at the end of a tree lined street.

The following night it was Dr Hollander’s turn. Carly tailed him to a neat little bungalow and watched as a little girl of about seven ran to meet him. She was excited and pleased to see him and even more so when he produced a small pink bike from the back of his car.

“You remembered!” She exclaimed excitedly.

Hollander gave her a big cuddle, “Of course, how could I forget my best girl’s birthday!”

They were joined by a slim auburn haired woman of about forty and a tall dark haired boy of about twelve. Obviously doctor Hollander’s family.

“It’s a shame that you and your family will have to suffer because of Barclay,” Carly muttered under his breath, “Still at least you’ll get to go home,” he said as he watched the Hollanders retreat into the house, “Unlike good old Barclay.” he added.

Four weeks after suggesting his plan to Brian, Carly entered the smoky atmosphere of a back-street city pub. ‘I thought smoking had been banned’, he said to himself as he made his way to the bar. ‘Something about it being bad for your health’.

“What’ll it be then?” The barman asked opening his mouth just wide enough to reveal two missing front teeth. By the looks of this place they were probably still around here somewhere having been knocked out in a brawl at one time. It just looked that kind of place, where without a fight of some sort breaking out at least once a week ,there would be no entertainment, Carly ordered and took his drink over to a ‘quiet’ spot, if you could call anywhere in this place quiet, as loud music blared from a rather battered old CD player. Carly could see why it fitted in to a place like this, it was scarred and beat up was like most

of the ‘clientèle’, who wore their scars proudly like rites of passage. Carly sat for almost of an hour nursing the same drink and was about to call it a day when a large burly man sat down beside him.

“Easter,” was all he said. Just that one word.

“At last! I thought you weren’t coming!” The man looked at him or rather looked through him.

“Oh sorry,” Carly apologised to the man, “it’s on the 26th this year I think.”

Carly said, deliberately giving the wrong date.

“It’s cancelled,” the man continued.

“Yes, I heard someone ran over the Easter bunny,”Carly completed the pre-arranged code words.

“OK, give me a couple of minutes then follow me through that door,” the man heaved his bulk upright and walked through a mauve coloured door.

Giving him the couple of minutes the man had asked for, Carly followed him through the doorway and found himself grabbed by several rough hands and slammed hard against the wall. It winded him.

“Search him.” A gruff voice said and Carly, powerless to resist, felt what seemed like several pairs of hands search his pockets. His wallet was handed over to someone who stood in the shadows.

“Nice,” ‘Gruff voice’ said, admiring the leather wallet with the initials J.C.H. embossed on it, “If it hadn’t had the wrong initials embossed on it I might just have kept it,” he chuckled.

“He’s clean,” said one of the searchers “OK, who sent you?” Gruff voice asked.

“Big Steve from Calverton said you could help. I need a gun,” Carly explained naming one of Calverton’s ‘lifers.’

“Steve? That could be anybody. Surname?”

“Sweetpea.”

Gruff voice laughed, “OK, you can let him go. Sweetpea wouldn’t tell just anyone his real surname if he wasn't on the level. So Mr ….. ” he looked in the wallet, “ …..Howard. You looking to get ‘tooled up’?”

“If by that do you mean get a gun, then yes.”

“I hope you mean ‘buy,’ we don't give them away for free.”

“No, no, of course not. I can pay.” Carly wished that ‘Gruff voice’ would show himself, but he remained in the shadows. Carly’s wallet was flipped fully open to reveal quite a wad of cash.

“That I can see Mr Howard. Did no one ever tell you not to go into dangerous places with large amounts of cash?”

Carly blushed. He hadn't thought. The one thought uppermost in his mind was to get a gun and then take care of Barclay.

“So, can you help me?” He asked growing slightly bolder.

“Oh, I think something can be arranged.” Gruff voice answered.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

Carly spent the next few weeks having a scout around the neighbourhood until he found what he was looking for. A dilapidated old farmhouse well away from any main road or occupied houses.

“Perfect,” he said aloud, although there was no one to hear him but the birds.

He had a look around the farm and then went for a short walk across the fields.

There was no one in sight. “Couldn't be better,” he shouted to the sky, scaring a flock of birds into flight.

Tony still hadn’t cottoned on to the fact that he was being followed and that his every move was under surveillance. The first he knew that he was in danger was when the tall thin man with a foreign sounding accent that he’d noticed once or twice at the Centre came knocking at his door.

At first Tony thought he was going to try to sell him something. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

For an answer, Carly palmed the small gun that Gruff voice had given him in exchange for an agreed amount of money in remuneration. “Inside,” was all he said.

For a moment Tony just could not comprehend what was happening. Had this man just pulled a gun on him?

“I said get inside,” Carly motioned with the gun.

Tony backed up into the hall, too stunned to do anything else but obey.

“Good. Now I want you to listen very carefully. Do exactly as I say. Understand?”

Tony nodded. He’d better play along with this man he decided, whatever he wanted.

After all, he held the gun and Tony didn’t particularly want to find out if he knew how to use it.

“OK, now I want you to go outside and get behind the wheel of the green Volvo that’s parked out there. Keys are in the ignition. Then we’re going to take a little drive to the country. Got that?”

Thoughts were running amok in Tony’s mind. Things like, ‘Is he after money?

I haven’t all that much in the house,’ ‘What if I tried to get that gun away from him?’

‘Could I move fast enough?’ ‘What in the world is all this about?’

“I said ‘GOT THAT?’!” Carly repeated angrily.

“Yes,” Tony was even surprised at just how nervous his voice sounded. Well it wasn't every day that someone pulled a gun on him. Slowly and carefully he made his way around Carly and walked out of his front door.

Surely, he hoped, one of his neighbours would see what was going on. They could phone for the police, even get the Volvo registration number, do something, but the street seemed unnaturally quiet. Where was everyone? He wondered but most were having their tea or watching TV behind closed curtains.

Reluctantly, but seeing no other option, he got into the car, Carly getting in to the back seat right behind him.

“Now start the engine and make a right at the bottom of your street.”

Tony turned the ignition key and the car started first go and he slowly moved it forward. He briefly thought of jamming on the brakes and catching Carly unawares but it was as if his thoughts had been read.

“Don’t try anything stupid, I’ve got a very nervous trigger finger,” he was informed.

Tony did as he was told. He had no idea what this man wanted but he decided not to take any unnecessary chances. He didn’t want to end up being shot or wounded.

They drove in silence, apart from Carly giving directions, for over an hour, leaving the comforting lights of the town behind them and made quite a few turnings on the narrow country roads. The car’s headlights the only illumination.

“Where are we going?” Tony eventually asked.

“See that building up ahead? Just drive to it,” Carly instructed him.

Reaching the dilapidated farm Tony was told to turn off the engine and get out of the car. He did so and was waved inside the farmhouse by the gun, which was still held in the man’s left hand.

The building was a near ruin but miraculously the roof was still intact. He was told to go through to the back of the building. This seemed to be in slightly better repair and had been swept up to make it kind of habitable. A chair leaned against the nearest wall and at the far wall was a table with a video camera on it. However it was what was actually on the other walls that shocked Tony the most.

Photos of Carol Finlay. Hundreds of them were plastered to just about every available space in various hues. Only they weren't of the Carol that he had come to know. These were from a much younger stage in her life well before the MS and steroid treatment had increased her weight somewhat. She looked almost mesmerically beautiful; although on further entering the room and seeing the photos closer-up, Tony saw that they weren’t different photos. It was the same picture photocopied over and over again. Kind of like Andy Warhol’s picture of Marilyn Monroe.

“Sit down on the floor, on your knees,” Carly instructed him, “put this on,” he threw a black hood at Tony.

“Now what?” Tony thought sitting down as instructed. It was only then, before he placed the hood over his head that he noticed the heavy chain curled up under the table. ‘Oh no not again!’ he thought, reminded of what had happened to him in the Finlay’s cellar. That was the moment he decided to try and get the gun away from Carly. He lunged at him from his half-sitting position, receiving a sharp blow on the side of the head and he knew exactly what he expression ‘seeing stars’ really meant,

“Don’t try that again,” Carly warned him pulling the hood over Tony’s head, Tony being too dazed to stop him.

Plunged into darkness he could only sit and nurse his now sore head, as he felt the chain being placed around his left ankle.

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

Saturday the 24th was promising to be a beautiful day. It was the Rehab Centre’s charity football match against the main hospital. They held it every year to help raise much needed funds for the facilities. Although Carly didn't know it, even his 50p books went to help the general coffers. It all helped buy what the NHS wouldn’t or couldn’t afford.

“Has anyone seen Tony this morning?” Jason Hollander asked his colleagues who were gathered in the main gymnasium waiting to go outside and start the game.

He was met by silence. No one had. “I saw him on Tuesday,” someone eventually said. No one could come up with any later date than the Tuesday. Someone tried his mobile. No answer. Had it all happened again? Had someone else got to Tony?

Where was he this time?

Someone in the gathered crowd of watchers voiced what several of them already thought, “Oh don’t tell me he’s gone and got himself into bother again!” There were a few titters of laughter at this, but someone else added; “But that Finlay guy is still in prison, isn’t he?” “Well let’s hope so,” this from another of the crowd.

On overhearing all of this Dr Jason beat a retreat to his office. He located the number of the Calverton governor’s office. The two men had come to know one another through the Finlay trial.

“Stuart? Jason Hollander here. We seem to have ‘misplaced’ Tony again, and I was just wondering if Brian had perhaps come up for parole, although to be honest I didn’t really see that being the case, or perhaps, what do you call it, ‘went on a runner.’?” Jason wasn’t really au fiat with the criminal jargon, not even from watching crime on TV. He just wasn’t interested in crime, his thing was medicine and had been since the age of 10.

“Well hello stranger, nice to hear from you again,” Stuart Hargreaves greeted Jason Hollander. “No we’ve still got Good ‘ol Brian, so he hasn’t done a runner,” Stuart Hargreaves gave a little laugh at Jason’s slight mistake, “seems to be quite a busy little bee at the moment, he’s writing a story so I'm told.”

“Good for him. Hope it keeps him out of trouble.” Jason said with a slight tone of disgust.

“Don’t we all,” Stuart Hargreaves replied with a sigh.

Right at that moment Tony would actually have swapped places with Brian if he could have. He was stuck in this dilapidated old farm building with hundreds of photos

of Carol plastered to the walls. Only it was a somewhat younger Carol than he had known, staring at him, accusing him of something that he hadn’t done, by causing her death. He hadn't chased after her, it was entirely the other way around. Even the jury at the trial had understood that. Why wouldn’t this man with the strange accent believe him? What was he really for and what was he after?

Briefly Tony wondered who exactly Carol had been looking at with such an accusing look on her young face when the photo had been taken. It was starting to drive him nuts, which was actually the main idea. Drive him insane enough that he would ultimately admit to anything.

He had, on several occasions since he had been brought here, tried to explain to this stranger what had really happened, that he wasn't the one who had chased after Carol making her life, in the short time that he had known her, a proper misery.

He hadn’t done anything wrong and he certainly wasn’t going to lie in front of a camera He had been told to admit his ‘guilt’ on camera a copy of the tape was then be sent to all of his colleagues. At least he had been given that small piece of information as to why he was here, but no information as to when he would be allowed to go free. Or would he be?

Carly himself however was now nearing exasperation. He had thought it would have been so easy to get this Barclay character to admit to his misdemeanours but he would admit to nothing. He had left him here in this dilapidated old building night after night since Tuesday with only the mice and rats for company. He hadn’t even given him much food or drink, but nothing seemed to be working.

“Why won’t you admit it Barclay?” he asked for what seemed to be the hundredth time, “I saw you with my own eyes the way you tried to chat up that nurse. Was she to be your latest conquest?”

“What are you talking about? What nurse?”

“The pretty little redhead who was carrying all those plastic cups that you just happened to bump into. Don’t tell me there are so many conquests in your life that you forget who’s who. I doubted Brian a little at first, but now I know he was telling the truth.”

So there it was at last, Tony thought. Brian was somehow involved in all of this - but to what end?

“But Brian was judged to be a psychopath, like Carol, and sent to Calverton maximum security prison,” he informed his captor as if he somehow wouldn’t know.

“That was only because no one would believe him.”

“And you do?” Tony couldn't believe that anyone would believe Brian after what he had done; murdering the fab four and leaving several children fatherless.

“What about the four men that he and Carol murdered?” Tony questioned.

“Oh he explained that too.”

“I’ll just bet he did,” Tony retorted rather sarcastically, “so, now that we’ve established that Brian is somehow behind all of this….”

“Oh Brian isn’t the only mastermind here Barclay. Brian wants revenge for the death of his sister, but I want two million pounds for your return… alive, but very much discredited. Otherwise….” he left the sentence unfinished but the inference was clear.

Two million! thought Tony. Who could raise that much money to save his life?

He didn’t know of anyone with that kind of money to spare, even to save a life.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

So the charity football match went ahead without Tony with quite a few of the watchers wondering exactly where he was, the others were too caught up in the game.

He was a good player and although the Rehab Centre team won by 7 goals to 4, the victory just didn’t seem the same without Tony. It seemed hollow somehow.

The players eventually made their way home and now it was Jason Holander’s turn to be targeted by Carly. As he made his way through the nearly deserted car park he noted that a green beat up Volvo was still there. ‘Now who on earth does that belong to?’ Jason wondered idly as he started his car’s engine, or rather attempted to start it.

It coughed, it spluttered but would not catch.

“Looks like you could do with a hand,” a voice said, just out of view as the speaker stood at the rear window of the car.

“Yes I most certainly could. I’d be grateful if you could help.”

“OK, let’s have a look under the bonnet.”

Jason popped open the car’s hood and a figure half disappeared inside the engine.

“Ah there's your problem. Want to come and have a look?” the man said.

Seeing no harm in taking a quick look, Jason got out of his car and went round the front. Everything looked OK to him but then he was no mechanic.

“What seems to be the trouble?” he asked the stranger, who towered over him standing a good foot taller than Jason’s 5 foot 6, as he took a look into the car’s engine.

“This,” was the reply he got as he felt something cold, round and metallic pressed against the back of his neck.

His first thought was ‘I’m going to be robbed!’ But no, instead of asking for his money the stranger said with his slightly odd sounding accent; “See the green Volvo over there, get in and start the engine. No tricks mind, I’m the one in charge today Doctor Hollander.”

‘So he knows my name’, thought Jason, ‘but who is he and what does he want?’

However he decided that it was best not to argue and made his way over to the Volvo.

Why, he wondered did this car park have no security? And where was everyone?

He hadn’t fully realised that he was the last to leave after the match.

They drove south out of the town and then Jason had to follow his abductors rather complicated instructions. It seemed as if they were going round in circles at times.

Was he by some chance trying to confuse him as to where they were going? Well, that wouldn't work thought Jason, as he knew all of these country roads like the back of his hand. He had often driven round them with Sammy, his now wife, in his courting days.

“OK, take the next left and then stop. Get into the passenger seat and put this on,” a black hood landed on the passenger seat, “Don’t get out of the car.

Put these on too,” a pair of handcuffs landed beside the hood. Jason had no alternative but to agree as the round metal thing, which he assumed was a gun barrel was back against his neck as the man spoke. He scrambled over into the passenger seat, clicked on the handcuffs and pulled the hood over his head. He then heard the man get out of the car and get in to the driver’s seat. Once there he started the car and seemed to drive around for ages before coming to a halt.

‘What now?’ Jason wondered. This was bordering on the ridiculous. Would he be murdered out here in the country, or just robbed and left to find his own way back to civilization? He had known where he was before having to put the hood on but where was he now? He heard his abductor get out of the car again and heard feet as they went round the front. He decided not to remove the hood in case it was the wrong thing to do.“OK you can take the hood off now,” he was finally instructed.

Still handcuffed, Jason did as he was told and tried very hard not to show that he knew exactly where he was. It was the old McKillop place where he and Sammy had once bought fresh farm eggs. It was now in a bad state of disrepair and it saddened Jason to see the once well kept place in such a mess.

“Inside,” he was ordered.

Rather reluctantly he made his way into the now neglected building. It was a shame he thought, that this once handsome farmhouse had been left to the elements after old man McKillop died.

He was told to go through to the rear of the building and got the surprise of his life when he saw Tony seated on the floor, a chain around his left ankle, and the starting of a beard as if he hadn’t had a shave since last Tuesday. He was even more amazed however by the rooms ‘décor’ - hundreds of photos of a youngish Carol Finlay stuck to the walls.

Tony was even more taken aback by seeing his colleague than Jason Hollander was by the unusual artwork. “Jason!” he exclaimed, relieved to see a friendly face yet concerned when he noted the handcuffs. Was two million not enough for this madman? Was Jason to be held to ransom too?

“You sit over there.” The gun waved Jason towards the chair in the corner.

“Now, shall we begin our little party gentlemen? How about practising on your colleague Barclay?”

“Practice what?” Tony asked confused as to what he was to do.

“By telling him how you'll seduce any female you come across, only this time it all ended in someone’s death.”

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

It was hard to say who was the more shocked by the last statement, Jason or Tony.

“What!” They both said in unison.

J. Carlton Howard just laughed. “Surprised doctor?” he asked, “didn't you realise that our friend here is a modern day Lothario? He’ll chat up anyone female. Makes a play for them too whither they want to play or not… like poor Carol here…” he waved to the pictures around the room, “This…” he pointed towards Tony, “is who really caused her death Doctor Hollander. She wouldn’t ‘play the game’ and I’m sure I don't have to go into details for you, but that's why her brother had to kill those other four idiots and put your precious Tony down there in the cellar. It was just to teach him a lesson about leaving her alone. With the other four it had been going on for years, since school Brian told me” “You’re mad!” Jason couldn't think of anything better to say on the spur of the moment.

Carly shook his head. “I think not doctor. I’ve spoken to Brian at length and I believe him, especially with what I saw at your precious Rehab Centre.”

“Oh, and what was that?” Jason asked a little angrily. He knew Tony and had worked with him for years, there had never been any trouble or any mention of impropriety on his part. He was a true professional and dedicated to his work.

“Well now Anthony, why don't you tell the good doctor? It’ll be good practice for when you make your confessions - for the camera.”

“What are you talking about?” Tony asked as he really didn’t have a clue what this madman was on about now.

“Oh come on Barclay the little redhead that we were talking about?”

Jason looked at Tony. Redhead? What was this crazy man on about now?

He tried to convey his unspoken thoughts to Tony. ‘Play along with him,’ he was trying to say, ‘I know where we are and we’ll get out of this somehow,’ were his unspoken words which he hoped Tony would somehow understand.

Instead Tony was still indignant that what had happened had been nothing more than a mere accident. He had simply turned too quickly without looking.

“I’ve already told you, it was just an accident - nothing more!” Then seeing that Jason didn't know what had happened, explained. “Remember that day I collided with Ann Peters and she dropped the plastic cups? Well, this idiot here thinks I orchestrated the whole thing just to chat her up.”

“And you seriously expect me to say that I was the one who was responsible for Carol Finlay's death? Who in their right mind would believe you, mister what-everyour-name-is?”

“My name doesn’t matter in the course of things. What matters is ‘the truth’ and I’m sure you’ve heard the saying that ‘the truth will set you free’?” Well maybe not you, but Brian. Once the courts realise that there has been a serious miscarriage of justice I'm sure they’ll let Brian go, and he should be in line for some serious compensation too.”

“So what happens now?” Jason asked.

“That, my friend, depends on how good an actor your colleague is. If he can convince people that he was responsible for Carol’s death then I might just let him go. If he doesn’t…” he left the sentence unfinished but the meaning was clear, he would be killed, “Oh and by the way Dr Hollander, I require two million pounds for his safe return… that is, if he is a good enough actor.”

“You really can't expect me to come up with that kind of money, where would I get two million!”

“Oh, I’m sure you could come up with it somehow doctor, after all what are you doing with all the donations you get from grateful patients, all the little old ladies who leave the Centre a legacy and what about all the second hand books you sell… some of them are mine by the way.” He gave an odd kind of ironic laugh, “Imagine, I'll be part paying for Barclays release! Now Dr Hollander I think it’s time we made for home. Sorry to leave you to the mice and rats again Barclay, but from what Brian's told me that's where you belong - with the rats of this world.

We’ll make your video when I get the good doctor home to his wife and loving family.”

Tony looked at his colleague and friend. Would he really be able to walk out of here? Walk out on him? Leave him here to the mercy of this unhinged individual?

It didn’t bear thinking about.

It was as if his mind had been read. Carly addressed himself mainly to Hollander, “Now don’t you go trying anything doctor, I know all the tricks that people in your position might try. I’ve probably even invented some of them myself. You see, I’m an author of crime fact and fiction. If either of you had bothered to read any of my books you'd probably have recognised me from the dust-jacket photo.”

He gave a slight theatrical bow, “J. Carlton Howard at your service gentlemen.”

It was in that brief second that Jason Hollander saw his one chance and took it. He hit Carly hard on the wrist with a kind of double-handed karate chop, even though his wrists were still handcuffed, just catching him slightly off guard so that he dropped the gun. It landed on the floor beside Tony. He didn't waste any time in picking it up. It was the first time he had ever handled a gun and to be honest, he didn’t know how to use it.

Carly sensed his hesitation. “Well Barclay are you going to be able to use that thing or are you just going to nurse it?” He started to take a step forward, Tony levelled the gun at him.

“Try taking another step and you'll find out Mr Howard,” he tried his best to sound to sound threatening.

“Oh really you expect me to believe that?” Carly mocked him, continuing his walk forward.

“I’m warning you!” Tony verbally tried to stop him, but it was no use.

Reaching out, Carly snatched the gun from Tony’s hands. “Next time you get the hold a gun Barclay, try taking the safety catch off!” he laughed.

Safety catch? What safety catch? Where? Tony had absolutely no idea about guns.

“Thanks for picking it up for me though,” Carly added with a mocking laugh at how silly Tony had been. He could have been free. Well how was he to know?

His job was helping people not trying to kill them.

“Now doctor I think it really is time you did go home to that lovely wife and family of yours, don’t you? They’ll be wondering what's become of you”

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

Dr Hollander had to do the return journey in the exact opposite order. First he had to place the black hood over his head and sit in the passenger seat while Carly drove.

It did seem to be shorter than the first journey though and when he was allowed to remove the hood he saw why. He was on the outskirts of the town. Carly must have taken the direct route which was much quicker. There he was left to make his own way home, still handcuffed.

He tried unsuccessfully to flag down several motorists, who when they saw the handcuffs sped on by. They probably thought that he was at the wrong end of a stag party ‘do’ or an escaped prisoner and were leaving him to it. Would no one help? Is this what civilized society had come to - man mind thyself and ignore all others? Or was it just that people were afraid to help in case it was some sort of a trap - for them?

At long last one motorist did stop, an elderly man with bushy white sideburns and equally white hair. Even although he appeared to be well over retirement age he still looked as though he could take care of himself. “You in trouble mate?” he asked, “Need a lift some place?”

“Oh thank you, thank you,” was about all Jason could get out until he was seated in the car and they were making for the town centre.

“Some of your friends having a little fun before you finally become a married man?” the man joked. He obviously thought it was a Stag party prank, handcuffing poor Jason and leaving him in the near middle of nowhere instead of tying him to a lamppost dressed in ludicrous clothing.

“No, no, you don’t understand. My name is Doctor Jason Hollander from the Rehab Centre and one of my MS nurses has been kidnapped and is being held by a madman out at the old MacKillop farm.’ He explained all in a rush. “We have to rescue him before that deranged man kills him!”

“Well now, you don’t say.” The old fellow sounded intrigued. To him it sounded like it could be a bit of an adventure, perhaps he would be asked to help rescue this unfortunate nurse who he secretly hoped was a blonde, he liked blondes…anyway it might at least be something to relieve the boredom of retirement.

“What do you suggest we do?” the old gent asked Jason.

“We’d better get to the police, he has a gun and I think he knows how to use it.”

“You think?”

“Well I wasn’t going to wait around to find out.”

“OK. I’ll take you to the police station. Mind if I tag along? Haven’t had anything this exciting happen to me in donkey’s years,” the old guy actually sounded happy.

Jason had no real choice but to agree. Time was of the essence.

Once they were at the police station Dr Hollander was seen by Detective Chief Inspector Lawrimar.

“So you say that Carly Howard has abducted one of your MS nurses?” he asked sceptically looking down at the notes he had made, “named Tony Barclay? I thought all of the nurses were female at your Rehab Centre?”

“Well look at this Carly. Would you have thought that was a male name?” Jason was getting the impression that Lawrimar didn't exactly believe him. Why was that?

“Isn't that the Tony Barclay who was held captive by the Finlay’s a few years ago?”

Lawrimar asked.

“Yes, yes , that’s right Inspector.” He was becoming impatient with the long, and in his opinion in this case, slow arm of the law.

“Chief Inspector,” Lawrimar had not long been promoted and he liked the sound of the added accolade. It made him feel superior to the minions.

“Yes, OK, Chief Inspector. Now what can we do about rescuing Tony? For all we know he might be dead by now.” Jason shuddered at the thought because Tony was a friend as well as a good MS nurse, and all the patients liked him. Actually when he thought about it he probably could have raised the two million quite easily from the patients alone.

“You say Carly wants him to admit that he's a modern day Lothario and that he caused the death of Carol Finlay. He also wants two million for his release? Doesn't really sound like a thing J. Carlton Howard would do, but if he has a gun as you say we’d better get the firearms boys involved.”

“At last!” Jason let out a sigh of relief quietly saying to himself; “Hang in there Tony,” However he still wondered why the Chief Inspector found it so hard to believe that this was happening.

Back at the farmhouse Carly was busy setting up the video camera to tape Tony’s ‘confession.’

He then handed him a piece of paper. “Commit it to memory Barclay, this time you will make the tape.”

Tony looked at what was written on the piece of paper, it read: ‘As you will probably know, my name is Tony Barclay and I work as an MS specialist nurse at the Rehab Centre. Three years ago I was responsible for the death of one of my patients Carol Finlay. You might recall the case as it was in all of the newspapers and on the TV. I have now decided that I can no longer live with myself for committing perjury at the subsequent trial into her death. I also said at the trial that

it was Carol and her brother Brian who were to blame for me being chained up in their cellar. I would now like to set the record straight that, yes, Brian did chain me up in that little cellar room but it was only that he wanted to teach me a lesson for ‘coming on’ far too strongly to his sister. I couldn't help myself, I had to seduce her like I’ve seduce countless other women, married or unmarried for my own selfish needs. I didn’t care about them just as long as I got them into bed. After I succeeded I casually discarded them like old clothing. They were of no further use to me. Most of them were unhappy or vulnerable like Carol, but not all were. I wish I could turn back the clock but of course I can’t, so the only thing I can perhaps do to make amends for what I’ve done is to take my own life so as not to hurt, belittle and betray any more women.’

Tony stared at the piece of paper for several seconds before speaking.

“You can’t seriously think that I'm going to say that rubbish, or that anyone is going to believe it. They would automatically know that it had been done under duress.”

“Oh but you will Barclay, you will I promise you.” Carly seemed so sure of himself. Why?

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

They had to wait for what seemed like an eternity for the firearms team to arrive from the city, but in the intervening time Jason did discover why it was that Lawrimar had found it so difficult to believe that Carly had threatened Tony with death. A younger officer entered the room with a book in his hand. It was called ‘The Abduction of Nurse Carruthers’ and the author was none other than J. Carlton Howard. So that was it.

Lawrimar thought this was all research for a book! Except that Jason knew that Tony’s life really was at stake.

“I said read it Barclay!” Carly shouted at Tony.

“No! I will not read something that is so blatantly untrue!” he shouted back defiantly.

Carly pointed the gun meaningfully at Tony’s left knee, “Last chance, read it!”

“No! You can’t make…”

There was a near-deafening explosion as the gun went off and Tony felt a searing pain in his left leg. He couldn’t believe it! This madman had actually shot him!

Blood started to seep through his trouser leg. The pain was excruciating.

“Well I warned you!”

Just then there was a crash as the front door was knocked off its somewhat rotten hinges and several armed policemen rushed into the room.

“Armed police! Put the gun down and put your hands on top of your head!

Do it NOW!” Slowly, reluctantly Carly obeyed, and was then handcuffed by one of the policemen and led away.

Jason Hollander rushed to Tony’s side and seeing the blood, applied a tourniquet made from from his own tie. It was his treasured graduation tie, given to him when he had passed his final medical exam many years ago. It staunched the flow of blood somewhat until an ambulance arrived and took the injured Tony to hospital.

Brian was beside himself with rage. He couldn't believe how close Carly had come to fulfilling his dream for him. Why had that stupid man only shot Barclay in the leg?

He could recover from that. Carol’s death would still have to be avenged, but not, it seemed, by Carly. He was now in prison himself on charges of abduction and the

unlawful possession of a firearm. So he wouldn't be of any help - but Brian was a determined one.

Carol’s death would be avenged. Tony Barclay would be made to pay - somehow.

Because to Brian, Carol hadn’t fallen down the stairs accidentally. If it hadn’t been for Barclay’s intrusion into their lives, it would only have been a matter of taking care of the ‘fab four’ and that would have been that. He couldn’t see that his sister had had no one to blame but herself for her own death. It had been her own fault.

Her paranoid schizophrenia had caused her dream world to become her real world.

She really had thought that Tony had loved her…he just wouldn't admit it openly.

He had his job to think of.

It was all Tony Barclay’s own fault for being the ‘Dishy Doc’ of the piece, according to Brian. By being quite so dashing and handsome he had quite literally caused her to ‘fall’ for him, although the feelings had never been reciprocated.

But that, as they say, is another story.

©2010 M. WILSON ARMOUR

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