As he drove with Milly in the back, his wife unconscious next to him, he turned the heat up and switched on the radio.
Chris Rea sang, ‘The Road To Hell’. Ben had a feeling that it was the place they’d just left.
34
Six Months Later
‘You look beautiful. The both of you.’ Ben’s wife sat in front of the bedroom mirror, wearing a black dress and applying a final touch of foundation. She looked breathtaking. Milly wore a suit, again black, with a skirt that her father thought was a little on the short side. He wore a tuxedo, his hair styled forward and his face cleanly shaven.
‘Okay, we’re going to be late. Are you both ready?’ Ben asked.
‘Yes. Good to go. It’s a fuss over nothing though. You and Milly should be the ones getting the honour. I didn’t do much.’ Laura reached her arms forward, clasping them around her husband’s neck.
‘On three.’ Ben lifted his wife and carried her down the stairs.
As soon as the surgeons had seen Laura’s leg and how badly it was shattered from the bullet, they knew there was little hope in saving it. A severe infection and destroyed nerves that caused constant pain left them with no choice but to amputate half of her leg.
She refused a false one, saying it would be too hard to get used to. She had crutches, but they blistered her hands. Laura rarely went out since the accident. She’d gone into a deep depression, refusing to see people or have visitors. She’d put on weight and was overcome with anxiety most days. She rarely left her bedroom.
Ben had begged her to get help and talk to a professional. He’d wanted to get her on a course of antidepressants and was certain Laura was suffering from PTSD.
Laura had waved it off, stating she just needed time to recover from that horrible night.
Ben was there for her, nursing her back to health. It was a struggle, especially for Laura. She didn’t want to learn to stand, to walk, to move. It was all too much for her, but Ben and Milly were there every step of the way.
The story of what happened that night had been major headlines across Europe. The police filled in the details. Edward, Mary and Abigail had been found lying in a ditch. The three of them had been shot dead. Nigel was found near the barn. Next to him, police found the head and body of Andrew Wilson.
Gareth’s body had been recovered in the forest – though there was no mention of the wig and the nightdress.
Jack, Lydia and Stephen had heard the sirens and raced towards the noise from the field where they were hiding.
Police found the stranded coach with the slashed tyres. Then they had searched the cottage and found Henry Mitchell’s tenants in a closet, both of them murdered with deep knife cuts across their necks.
They found no sign of Henry, the birthday banner, the newspaper clippings pinned to the bedroom wall upstairs; or Evelyn’s body. He’d parked his car at the back of the cottage and made off. Police found fresh tyre tracks confirming this.
They’d searched the house in Bourne Woods and found it empty. Despite a colossal hunt and a massive search, Henry Mitchell was still on the run with Evelyn.
Today, Ben, Laura and Milly were to receive medals for bravery. They stood together, lined up in a grand room of Buckingham Palace. Although Ben had thought that most people would have acted the same way and helped the passengers, he accepted the medal. As he watched his wife and daughter being honoured, he’d never felt more proud. Laura and Milly were incredibly brave.
When they got home, they spoke about what they’d experienced, about the palace and how they needed to put the past behind them.
They rarely spoke of Henry, Evelyn or what happened that dreadful night. It was a nightmare they’d rather forget.
It was late when Laura said she was tired. It had been a long day, and her body was exhausted.
Ben reached down, placing his hands under her waist. They’d have to get a stairlift. He worried about taking her up and down the stairs, thinking they could so easily fall. He struggled to the living room door, his arms shaking and weak as he lifted Laura slowly up the stairs, one step at a time.
Ben gently placed his wife onto the bed. ‘I love you so much. You were amazing today. You know that, Laura. You’re my hero.’
‘I love you, Ben. You’re a wonderful man. Don’t ever forget that.’ She smiled.
‘You’re not so bad yourself.’ They laughed together, and Ben felt optimistic for the future.
He was proud it had been them who had arrived when the passengers were on the coach.
35
Evelyn’s Birthday
Henry Mitchell opened the front door of the squat where they were hiding. ‘Evelyn, I’m home. Don’t get up, sweetheart. I have something for you.’ He noticed the final demand letters, lying on the floor. They’d have to move soon.
He made his way to the kitchen and flicked on the light. He stood alone, taking in the peaceful surroundings. ‘Wow, it’s good to be here. Right, so, let me think, I have the cake, I’ll boil the kettle, light the candles and then bring everything up on a tray.’ He laid it all on the kitchen table, then he climbed the steps to the top of the house. Henry opened the door while balancing the tray. As he walked into the bedroom, he smiled.
‘Look at you, Evelyn. You beautiful lady. Happy birthday. Sixty-two today, sixty-two today. It’s so exciting – another year. You still look the same. So, I have your coffee and a cake I picked up in town. It’s your favourite – sponge with a strawberry topping. Oh, and I made sure they gave me longer candles this time. We can’t have them burning too quickly now, can we? That just won’t do.
‘You know what happens soon? It’s almost that time, Evelyn. I have to go to work again. People need to pay. You know it’s how it has to be, Evelyn. But let’s enjoy your special day first. I’ll sit on the bed beside you, my love.’ Henry held his hands out and placed them gently on Evelyn’s body. Then he took a fresh white nightdress from the drawer, slowly draping it over her decayed body and adjusted the wig on top of her head. ‘Happy birthday, my darling Evelyn.’
He stood up. ‘I’m going out, but I’ll be back later. I’m so excited. Remember, this is all for you.’
Henry undressed, then placed a nightdress over his head and pulled it down over his body. He placed the wig on his own head, took a quick look in the mirror and then left the squat where they’d been hiding.
It was only a matter of time before the police caught up with him. He and Evelyn could never return to the house in Bourne Woods. It was getting hard moving around and Evelyn was most certainly tired of the upheaval.
He drove the twenty-five miles to Bourne Woods. Although he’d thought about doing it somewhere else, in the end, it had to be this place.
Henry stood on the side of the road, keeping hidden. He glanced at his watch; it was late. He worried that maybe it was too late.
Ben heard the pounding against his car first. He swung the steering wheel and brought the car to a halt. Although he’d expected to see the figure and was driven by his determination, it was still shocking as it played out. He looked in the rear-view mirror and stared at the figure standing in the shadows. Ben felt sick as he saw the long black hair and the white nightdress. It brought back the horrific memories of that night. Then he stamped on the accelerator and reversed. As the body lay on the road, he pulled forward, rolling the vehicle over it. He reversed over it a second and third time, just to make sure.