The Chosen Ones. G Sanders D

the bathroom door, she saw him smile from his position in the hall. Her hand moved to the lock. The bastard! He’d removed the mechanism. Gina tipped her flat champagne into the basin, ran the cold tap and filled her glass. Drinking the water with one hand, she fumbled in her bag with the other and retrieved her mobile phone. It was off. Puzzled, she switched it on. Nothing. Her phone was dead. Gina opened it to find that the battery and SIM card had been removed. Stepping back into the hall, she waved the mobile phone at him.

      ‘What have you done with my battery and SIM?’

      ‘Gina,’ he said with a look of mock disappointment, ‘surely you didn’t expect me to leave you free to contact the outside world. Don’t worry. Your battery and SIM are in a safe place, together with the charger and battery from your laptop.’

      Gina felt an ominous sense of foreboding. His calm assurance was becoming as frightening as the thought of what he might do to her.

      ‘If I don’t contact my friends they’ll—’

      ‘Sadly, you don’t seem to be in regular contact with any friends.’

      ‘What? How?’

      ‘This last week I’ve had plenty of time to hack into your laptop while you’ve been at work.’

      Gina’s sense of isolation increased. She stepped back into the bathroom to think. Feeling weak, she leant against the washbasin for support. Determined to be rational, she forced herself to take stock. Normal access to the world had been taken from her. House keys, landline, mobile and computer; all were useless. If the people in the flat next door were away, she had little chance of attracting attention. Her flat was on the third floor. The external windows were at the side of the building facing thick leafy treetops. Even if she could get a window open, her cries for help were unlikely to be heard. The lock had gone from the bathroom door, leaving her exposed and defenceless. Gina’s legs began to shake and she tightened her grip on the basin.

      Staring sightlessly at her face in the bathroom mirror, Gina struggled to think clearly. Building logical thoughts was like trying to run waist-deep in a swimming pool. Her breathing was laboured and her mouth gaped with the effort. For the moment he had the upper hand. She was at his mercy. There was little choice but to play along, see what developed and look for a way to escape.

      He was right; if he’d wanted to hurt her he could have done so already. Slowly a new thought struggled to the surface: he hadn’t done so already but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t harm her, even kill her, sometime in the future. Gina’s knees buckled and she clung to the rim of the basin. Physically she felt weak, but her mental strength was returning. She splashed her face with cold water. This man wouldn’t get the better of her. She didn’t know how, but she would find a way. She straightened and refilled her glass with water from the tap, determined he wouldn’t win.

      ‘There’s mineral water in the fridge.’ The voice drew attention to his presence, watching her from the hall. Gina shuddered.

      ‘Tap water’s fine.’ She forced herself to look at him. ‘I know I can’t get out, but you said we should take it slowly. I’m tired. I need to rest. Just tell me what you want and we’ll talk about it later.’

      He looked at her carefully. Contrived or not, he appeared innocent, almost boyish.

      ‘It’s very simple. I want you. I want you to give yourself to me.’

      Gina gasped. He’d spoken so calmly, as if his wish was the most natural thing in the world. But why was she so surprised? It had to be sex; why else would a man break into a single woman’s home?

      ‘If you want sex why haven’t you done it already?’

      A brief look of shock appeared on his face and he spoke quickly.

      ‘No, you misunderstand. I don’t want sex, that is, I don’t just want sex. I don’t want to force you. I don’t want you to submit, to surrender yourself. Your willingness won’t be enough. I want the gift of your love more than I want the act itself, but your desire to give must match my desire for the giving. You must want me as much as I want you.’

      He stopped speaking as abruptly as he’d started.

      Gina looked at him aghast. The man was deranged. ‘Love you?’ She took a step back. ‘Never!’

      ‘You’re shocked, surprised, you’re thinking it won’t happen. You’re wrong, Gina. All we need is time.’

      She had to get away. She couldn’t get out of the flat, but anywhere would do as long as it was away from this madman. Doing her best to adopt a professional manner, Gina stepped into the hall and faced him directly.

      ‘I’m going to rest on my bed. Promise me that you won’t come into my room.’

      ‘We’ll talk again when you’re feeling better. Leave your door open, I’ll not wake you.’

      Gina moved past him towards her room. The moment he was behind her, the cold tension returned between her shoulder blades. Quickly, she walked into her bedroom. There was no lock on the door so she did as he’d said and left it half open. She kicked off her shoes, climbed onto the bed without undressing and pulled the duvet tightly around her shoulders. Despite the cover, her body felt like ice.

      Why me? Why? Why me?

       20

      When they’d left Dover and were on the A2 back to Canterbury, Ed asked Jenny what she’d managed to get from the dead woman’s parents.

      ‘Very little. The husband, Tony Jenkins, did most of the talking. I didn’t push Pat, the mother; she was very upset. Actually, Tony’s the stepfather.’

      ‘And the daughter …?’

      ‘Kayleigh Robson, 23, an only child. They’re not from around here; they come from Strood.’

      ‘Where’s that?’

      ‘Part of the Medway Towns – it’s across the river from Rochester.’

      ‘So, what was Kayleigh doing in Dover?’

      ‘She moved out of the family home when her mother remarried. According to the stepfather, they hadn’t seen Kayleigh for three or four years.’

      Ed waited while Jenny negotiated a roundabout.

      ‘If they’d lost touch with the daughter, what were they doing at her flat in Dover?’

      ‘They had an arrangement. Ever since Kayleigh left home, her mother has paid for a mobile contract. In return, Kayleigh promised she would always call between 5 and 6 p.m. on the 21st of every month. When she hadn’t called by 6.30 today, the mother tried to call her, but she couldn’t get through to Kayleigh’s phone. This had never happened before. She got increasingly worried and finally insisted Tony drive with her to Dover. They had a key to the flat, let themselves in and found Kayleigh dead.’

      ‘Poor woman – to find your child like that must be an unimaginable experience,’ said Ed.

      The two detectives drove in silence, each with their own thoughts, until Ed added, ‘We’ll know more when we get the post-mortem report and hear from forensics.’

       21

      Gina tried to turn over in bed but couldn’t; something was holding her right arm. She pulled. It tightened round her wrist. Now fully awake, she opened her eyes in time to see the Decorart man loop a cord around her other wrist and pull it towards the head of the bed.

      ‘What the … You bastard!’

      Anger, not fear, rose within her. Colin was standing by the bed. She kicked out, but he stood back and her struggles