Wood - Victim of Innocence

One More Chapter

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019

Copyright Michael Wood 2019

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Michael Wood asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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Ebook Edition December 2019 ISBN: 9780008374846

Version: 2019-10-14

Table of Contents

Caitlyn Brown was confused. She staggered forward and held out her arms to hold on to something, anything, to stop her from falling.

What the hell had happened?

She heard the front door closing. Was that someone coming in or going out?

Hello? She called. Her voice slurred, but she had been sober since New Year. Are you still there? Can you help me? I think

Steadying herself on the mantelpiece, Caitlyn turned around to face the living room door. It seemed to blur in and out of focus. Was someone about to come in? That wasnt possible. She made a point of locking and double-locking the front door as soon as she came home from work. Her mother was the only other person with a spare key, and she wouldnt turn up unannounced, not since the discussion they had about privacy over Christmas.

Caitlyn felt sick and dizzy. She needed to sit down before she fell. She needed a drink. She needed her mother.

Flopping into the armchair, Caitlyn reached over to the telephone and lifted the handset out of its cradle. She stared but couldnt focus on the buttons. They wobbled in front of her eyes.

She scrolled through the phones built-in contacts and pressed the green call button when she saw what looked like the three-letter word mum. She held the phone to her ear and listened to the echoing ring. It sounded odd, as if it was the only noise in a large empty room.

Hello? A voice Caitlyn didnt recognize answered. It sounded slow and deep.

Mum? Is that you? Caitlyn asked, concern in her slurred speech.

Yes. Caitlyn? Are you all right?

I dont know. She ran her hand through her hair. It came away wet. I think theres someone in my flat.

What? What are you talking about?

Mum? Is that really you? Caitlyns voice wobbled. It sounded slow in her head.

Oh God, Caitlyn, have you been drinking? You promised youd quit. Youve been doing so well, too.

Mum, I havent been drinking.

Then why do you sound like your dad when he comes home after United have won?

Mum, I havent had a drink in months. That was a lie, but there was no reason to tell her mother the truth. She would only worry more than she already did.

Caitlyn, Im not stupid. I know drunk when I hear it. Look, youre going through hell right now, but drinking wont help. And what will Mr Jowett say tomorrow when you turn up for work hungover? Hes been very good to you lately, Caitlyn.

Someones in my flat, Caitlyn said, her eyes still fixed on the doorway.

Yes, of course. And Tom Selleck is waiting for me in bed upstairs. Look, sleep it off and Ill see you tomorrow.

But

Goodnight.

The line went dead.

Shit, she said to herself. Ive phoned the police, she called out towards the doorway she could barely see.

There was no reply. Caitlyn remained in the armchair staring at the door, wondering if someone was going to enter. The walls seemed to be moving; the door to the hallway was getting further and further away. Eventually, she lifted herself up and used the wall to steady herself. It was closed and the Yale was locked. Maybe she hadnt heard the door closing.

What did she remember? She was sat having a drink of wine

Dont tell mum. Mustnt tell mum.

watching a repeat of Blue Planet on Sky when the doorbell rang. After that, nothing but a massive headache. She placed a hand on her forehead. It felt warm and clammy.

Caitlyn stumbled into her bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Her dizziness increased. She wanted to sleep. She began to remove her clothes; floppy fingers fumbled with her shirt buttons; tired legs kicked out of her trousers. She couldnt be bothered to change into her pyjamas; she couldnt find them anyway.

When she stood up, she caught her tired reflection in the wardrobe mirror. She looked a mess: pale, skinny, bad skin and crazy hair.

Caitlyn threw back the duvet and fell into bed. She started to relax straight away as her warm body was engulfed in the cool crisp sheets. She turned over to cocoon herself in the duvet and didnt notice the blood dripping from her head onto the pillow; didnt notice as a red stain grew like a flower across the sheets.

Table for two. Name of Darke.

Matilda held her husbands hand firmly while they waited for their table. His large fingers wrapped around hers. His were calloused, weather beaten, the hands of a manual worker, strong and rugged. She felt safe with this tall handsome man gripping her hand. She had no idea why she was suddenly so fixated on Jamess hand, but as she looked down, she wanted to memorize every single line and cut, as if she was seeing it for the last time. She also wanted to lick it, take off his jacket and shirt, kiss his firm masculine body, run her tongue

Mr Darke, your table is ready.

Thank goodness. Im starving, Matilda said, her face flushed with embarrassment.

It had been a while since they had dressed up and gone out somewhere posh to eat. Since the renovations on the house, they were living in a glorified caravan at the bottom of the garden. Meals consisted of takeaways, sandwiches, and things that could be cooked in one pan. Tonight was a chance to indulge in expensive food and drink over several courses.

They were shown to their table by the window and given the menus.

Are you all right? James asked.

Im fine. Why?

You look a bit flushed.

Matilda smiled and felt herself blushing. Im fine. Honestly. Ive been looking forward to this evening all day. I havent had lunch.

I have, James said as he perused the menu. But only a jacket potato, a bit of salad, tuna mayo, packet of crisps.

Is that all? Youll be wasting away, she mocked.

Are we having a starter?