Spider Page 6

  Beth swallowed on a lump of emotion. She’d been right not to tell him about Yash. He was a weak man, not strong enough to hear about the ordeal Yash had put her through. She pulled her hands away from her dad’s and moved to pick up her own coffee cup so he couldn’t retake them. She couldn’t afford to break down. She had to be strong for him. Strong for both of her parents.

  Steven looked at her through red-rimmed eyes. ‘That can’t be the only reason for you to cry? Maybe it’s the shock over what happened this afternoon?’

  ‘Meeting Yas—the Jelvia? No, although I was shaken up. No, Dad, I’m scared that I’m losing you again. I’ve just lost my sister, so please go back to your AA meetings.’

  He turned from her. ‘I… yeah, maybe. I’ll find another group.’

  ‘But what’s wrong with the group you had before?’

  ‘Look, Beth, I will. Drop it now, okay?’

  Beth held up her hands. ‘All right, calm down.’

  ‘Sorry, love. I’ll sort myself out, okay?’ He smiled at her. ‘Can’t have my best girl crying now, can I? Alison said the Jelvia offered to find Lara?’

  Thank God Alison didn’t remember that Yash had taken her phone and put his number in it. ‘He didn’t offer. Mum got it wrong. He said Jelvias didn’t kidnap young girls.’

  ‘He’s lying.’

  ‘Obviously.’ She studied Steven as he bent to open the oven door and a waft of warm air filled the tiny kitchen. She cleared her throat. ‘There is one other thing.’

  ‘Oh?’ He straightened and grabbed a tea towel to take his dinner out. ‘I knew there was more. Come on, out with it.’

  ‘As you know, the police are dropping the investigation and—well, Petra gave me a couple of names of people who may help us,’ she said, watching him. He closed the oven door on his dinner again and slung the tea towel over one shoulder. ‘One was James Sullivan, and the other was Macy Shaw—’

  ‘Macy Shaw? That name rings a bell.’

  ‘She was in the news recently when she was taken hostage by a group of Jelvias. She was in a bistro when it happened. The owner, Jon Johnsten, died along with several of his staff. Macy survived.’

  ‘I remember. But how does Petra think they can help?’

  ‘James Sullivan isn’t locatable, but she believes I can find Macy Shaw.’

  ‘Right,’ Steven said, looking doubtful. ‘And how could she help?’

  ‘She’s romantically linked to a Jelvia.’

  ‘Whoa…’ Steven said, holding up his hands. ‘Women like that aren’t to be trusted. Collaborating with the enemy—’

  ‘If I talk to her and appeal to her good side—’

  ‘No! No, Bethany. She has no good side! She can’t have a good side if she’s with—with them.’ He shuddered. ‘What kind of woman could let a Jelvia get intimate? Disgusting.’

  Beth hid her face in her coffee cup as she took a generous sip. She swallowed without tasting and felt it burn her throat.

  ‘While Mum was getting her hair done today,’ she said, cradling the cup against her, ‘I talked my way into Macy Shaw’s office in London Echo. She wasn’t there, but I know where she is. Dad, I want to go and speak to her. She may or may not help us, but I think it’s worth a shot.’

  Steven was shaking his head. ‘No, no, absolutely not.’

  ‘Macy’s in Cornwall. Tomorrow I’m going to spend my time looking for a hostel or something, then on Friday, after my cleaning job, I’ll drive straight to Cornwall.’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘And who’s going to look after Mum?’ She held up a hand as he tried to speak. ‘And no, we’re not all going. I’m going alone, and I need to go while the Dog is closed. I can’t afford to take time off from cleaning, so I’ll only be gone the weekend.’

  ‘It’s too dangerous,’ Steven said. He looked very sober now.

  ‘How is it?’ Beth scoffed. ‘Dad, I’m going to find Macy, a human woman, not a Jelvia. This could be our only chance of finding Lara.’

  And my only chance so I don’t have to prostitute myself to a Jelvia, she said inside her head.

  TEN

  Beth lay in bed mulling over the conversation she’d had with her dad. As she pondered, she flicked through her phone for accommodations in Cornwall. The glare from her mobile phone stung her eyes as she searched the internet for the name of the stately home that was pictured on the postcard: Seagull Estate. It may have been a grand home once upon a time, but now it was a hotel and so far out of Beth’s budget it may as well have been a trip to the moon. She searched ‘bed and breakfasts’ near Seagull Estate and was rewarded with a list of names. She brought one up, and the prices made her gasp.

  ‘It’s just a bloody B&B,’ she muttered, jabbing at the phone.

  Even though Beth didn’t think she’d have a snowball’s chance in Hell of finding Macy Shaw, she was determined to try. She couldn’t wait for her message to be passed on to Macy—if it wasn’t already at the bottom of a wastepaper basket, that was.

  She had to go, even though Macy might have already finished her holiday and be on her way back. At least it’d give her breathing space to think her choices over. Although the alternative option was too horrendous to contemplate—no, it was impossible to consider, she corrected herself. She’d never agree to Yash’s offer. His price was too high.

  A yawn escaped her, and then she glanced at the time. It was almost midnight. She’d research more tomorrow and book herself into a hostel instead. Or sleep on the beach.

  She set her alarm and placed her phone on the side table before fluffing up her pillow and rolling over on her stomach. She fell asleep quickly, but her dreams were dark and lonely.

  Her alarm woke her, and for a moment she lay and wondered where she was. Then she pushed off her duvet and padded around her bedroom looking for her clothes. Even though the Dog and Gun was closed, her cleaning job at Clean Easy still expected her to show up, and she needed the money. Colin had texted her previously, thanking her for cleaning the pub. He also assured her she would get paid for the days the pub was closed, which was heartening.

  She planned to travel early Saturday morning and come home Sunday night; that way she’d only have to pay for one night’s stay and not miss a day’s pay for cleaning the school.

  Alison went to Caring Hands every Sunday, so Steven was only in charge of her on Saturday and Beth was confident that her dad would be more responsible with Beth not being around and lay off the booze.

  As Beth made plans for the upcoming weekend, she began to feel a stirring of excitement. She felt she was doing something positive for a change. She hadn’t reopened the conversation about finding Macy Shaw with her dad so she assumed he’d forgotten about her plans to travel to Cornwall, and she didn’t remind him.

  And on Friday night, she packed her small holdall for an early start, and left a note in the kitchen the following morning:

  Off to Cornwall. I’ll be back Sunday evening. Phone later. – Beth.

  The day was still dark when she pulled from the kerbside.

  ◆◆◆

  Beth found a hostel in the backstreets of Hayle, which she’d share with seven other women, five of whom were ‘travellers’ who seemed to only pack cans of lager in their rucksacks. It was a lively room, and Beth didn’t think she’d get much sleep Saturday night.

  Still, she didn’t plan to waste time sleeping. She parked her car and, using her phone for directions, set off on a walk to find Seagull Estate. She didn’t expect to find Macy still there, but it was a starting point. Her dad texted her as she was walking, and she responded that she’d arrived safely, then ignored the rest of his worry-filled texts.

  She pocketed her phone and followed a sign that pointed to the beach, and in no time at all, she could see the twinkling blue ocean. Just seeing the sea lifted her spirits. She headed down to the beach, and soon she was walking across the promenade and stepping onto the sand. She couldn’t resist the pull of the sea. She kicked off her shoes, r
olled up her jeans, and ran to the surf to dip her toes.

  The seaside air brought back memories of happier times. She stood watching the sea as waves rolled over her feet and then back out again. Their last holiday as a complete family had been three months before the accident, and Beth’s mind took her back to when Alison was trying to sunbathe in the ocean on an inflatable in Majorca. Steven and Graham kept tipping her off, and Alison had become annoyed.

  Beth was overwhelmed with an intense feeling of grief—homesickness for how it used to be—and had to press her fist against her mouth to stop herself from crying aloud.

  ‘Stop it, Beth,’ she said to herself. Taking a breath, she pulled herself back from the abyss of pain centred in her heart. She turned around to look up the beach. The small town was busy even though the holiday season was almost over.

  ‘Oh,’ she said in surprise as she spotted Seagull Estate set slightly away from the promenade. ‘And there we are. Wow, Macy must be earning a fair dollar at London Echo!’

  Holding her shoes, she trudged back up the beach and sat on the edge of the promenade to put them back on, then headed towards Seagull Estate. The hotel was out of her league. The marble-floored lobby was pristine, as were the staff—not a tie or hair out of place. Beth walked up to the woman behind the reception desk.

  ‘Hi, I’m here to see Macy Shaw. Can you tell her I’m waiting in the bar for her? I’m Courtney.’

  Her bold move had the woman scrolling through her computer. She looked back up with a smile. ‘I’ll call her for you.’

  ‘Really? Oh, I mean, great. Thank you.’ Beth turned quickly before the receptionist saw the shock in her face and headed towards an open doorway and the bar. At the bar, Beth made a pretence of looking through the cocktail menu. There was no way she could afford a drink here. The sound of heels made her turn, but it was the receptionist.

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss, er, Courtney, Miss Shaw isn’t answering the phone. May I take a message for her?’

  ‘Yes.’ She took the notebook and pen the receptionist offered her and scribbled her number. ‘Thank you.’

  She waited until the woman had crossed the floor back to her desk, then she left the bar and Seagull Estate. Not all was lost. At least she knew Macy was still staying here. She headed back to her car and, once inside, used her phone to locate the local library. She’d come back to the hotel later and try again, but first she wanted more information on Macy.

  She’d already searched the internet last night and the search engine had brought up an incident involving a woman named Courtney Day in Richmond, and according to the article, Courtney had been mugged and rescued by a Jelvia. Beth had clicked on a separate link, which took her to an article about the investigator reporter, Macy Shaw, who was researching Jelvian activity. It didn’t link the women together but the two women were obviously friends, and it couldn’t be a coincidence that the man from London Echo had mistaken Beth for Courtney.

  Beth was pleased with her researching capabilities, but she felt she needed more information. A picture of Courtney, for one. Her phone brought up a library that was 1.3 miles away. The archives in the library were normally rich in information, and Beth was certain she’d be able to narrow down her search for Shaw.

  After paying for a few hours of Internet time at the library’s desk, Beth settled down in front of a bulky computer to continue cyberstalking Macy. Macy’s Facebook account was set to private but on Instagram Beth found a fuzzy image of a blond-haired woman called Courtney.

  There was, maybe, a passing resemblance. Beth probed more and although Courtney’s address wasn’t available, it was narrowed down to a small estate called Upton Towans in Hayle.

  ‘And that’s why Macy’s in Cornwall! She’s visiting a friend,’ Beth murmured to herself while resisting punching the air in jubilation.

  There was even a picture of Courtney’s house, and Beth felt sure the old Victorian building would be easy to find.

  Beth’s stomach rumbled and, glancing at her phone, she was surprised to see it was almost four in the afternoon. She’d brought a quick sandwich from home, but had eaten it ages ago. Her phone also showed she had several texts from Steven, and all were begging her not to approach Macy. His thought was that Macy would tell her Jelvian lover about Beth, putting her in danger.

  Beth didn’t know how to reassure him; she could hardly tell him she was already in danger with a different Jelvia. In the end, she lied and told him she wouldn’t contact Macy, but then his worrying shifted to the drive home and how he didn’t think her car was up to the journey.

  ‘A bit late worrying about that, since I’ve done half the journey already,’ she quipped to herself as she pocketed her phone.

  She headed back to the hostel, relieved that she had the room to herself for a moment. She freshened up and, ignoring her rumbling stomach, climbed back into her car and set out towards Upton Towans. She had thought about going back to Seagull Estate again, but it was only four in the afternoon, and she figured most people would only come back to their hotel later, to get ready for an evening out, no matter how deluxe the hotel was.

  She’d placed Upton Towans in her mobile’s satnav. It was less than five miles and only ten minutes away by car. She was soon there and drove around looking for the old Victorian house pictured from the newspaper. Trouble was, there were quite a few of them, and after thirty minutes’ searching Beth was beginning to think she’d never find it. Then there it was.

  The house looked just like the picture in the newspaper, little picket fence and all.

  Beth parked her car, feeling nervous. Before her anxiety got the better of her, she climbed out of her car and approached the house. The door was unmarked, unlike her scuffed and dented door at home, nor were there any propped-up cars on bricks or old mattresses or fridges dumped outside. It was a nice area. Posh, even.

  Beth knocked on the door, then, after a moment, rang the bell. She heard a chime from the interior and waited some more, but no one came.

  ‘Shit!’ Beth stared at the door. She hadn’t envisioned no one being home!

  She sat in her car, anxiously biting her fingernails, before finding a scrap of paper and writing a note saying she needed to speak to Macy urgently. She added her mobile number beneath the message.

  Back outside the house, she shoved the note through the letterbox.

  That was all she could do for now. She glanced at the clock. It was almost six o’clock, and her stomach was eating itself. She decided if she could get no answer from either the note through her door or the note at the hotel, she’d buy nice writing paper and an envelope and write a proper letter to Macy. But first, she’d try Seagull Estate again. Macy might be back.

  She bought herself a takeout pizza and took it back to the hostel to eat and charge up her phone. The room, thankfully, was still empty. She sat on her bed and ate her Margherita pizza. Licking her fingers clean, she dropped the empty pizza box over the side of her bed and slipped down under the covers. Despite appearances, it was a comfortable bed. Beth rolled onto her side and reached for her phone. Only thirty per cent. She’d drained the battery today. She’d get it to fifty per cent, and then she’d head to Seagull Estate. If Macy still wasn’t there, she’d go back to Courtney’s house.

  She woke with a jerk.

  Shit!

  It was almost ten o’clock. She stumbled to the bathroom and freshened up as quickly as she could. Then, after grabbing her now fully charged phone, she was out of the door and back in her car. She’d been driving for a few minutes when she realised she didn’t recognise the road as being the one she was on before, and it took her a moment to realise she’d missed a turn.

  She rubbed her eyes. She still felt half asleep, and she’d started out in a panic and without a plan. She buzzed down her window to let in the fresh air and carried on down the road until she could pull over. She pulled in to a side road, and grabbing her phone, brought up GPS and entered Upton Towans again. According to her phone, she’d drive
n two miles in the wrong direction.

  Cursing her own stupidity, she pulled out and re-joined the line of traffic until she was forced to stop for a traffic light at a crossroads. It was a dual road, and a green Fiat pulled up alongside her. The middle-aged man in the car revved his engine as Beth tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, still cursing herself for wasting time. The lights changed, and the Fiat was the first to pull away—then it happened all so fast.

  As Beth pushed her car into first gear to move off, a black-coloured car coming from her right jumped a red light, forcing Beth to slam on the brake. The black car slowed in the middle of the crossroads, then the passenger door was flung open and a woman toppled out, forcing the green Fiat to stop. Had Beth moved off alongside the Fiat she’d have hit the woman.

  A lorry jack-knifed to avoid hitting a BMW which had stopped to avoid the crash. The door of the black car was pulled closed, and then it moved off at speed, tyres screeching as the carnage unfolded around the rolling woman in the road. A motorcycle, trying to avoid the crash, skidded and slid across the road, throwing its rider. More cars screeched to a stop.

  And all the while, Beth stared in horror as the woman rolled over and over in the road.

  As the woman came to a halt, a scream from a pedestrian penetrated through Beth’s open window. Then other noises, shouts and screams, from people outside flooded through, but Beth couldn’t break her gaze from the still form of the woman in the road.

  The lorry driver was the first into action, jumping from his cab and running to the woman. Then other people began to step from their vehicles. Someone was on their phone, hopefully calling emergency services. Another was filming the activity.

  Then she heard pounding footsteps, and jumped in her seat as two Jelvias ran past her car towards the commotion. They were bloody and had obviously been in a brawl. She watched, stunned, as one Jelvia seemed to crumple beside the motionless figure of the woman, while the other Jelvia pulled open the door of the green Fiat, hauled out the driver, jumped in, and drove off.