Isolated. M. A. Hunter

Isolated - M. A. Hunter


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framed his posture and the confidence with which he is delivering his lines, there has clearly been some rehearsal involved.

      ‘I wish there was more I could tell you, Miss Hunter, but I’m afraid I can’t say what I don’t know.’

      I’ve never hated the sound of my own name so much as the way he delivers it with such bitter scorn. I need to find a way to get through to him but short of shaking him by the shoulders, I’m at a loss as to how. It feels like the journey here has been a waste of time. I have no doubt that the only reason he agreed to meet with me was to see how desperate I am, and to lord it over me.

      I check my watch. ‘Our time is nearly up, so Jack and I had better be going,’ I say, loudly enough for Jack to hear.

      I’m about to stand when Turgood utters three words that chill me to the bone.

      ‘How is Freddie?’

      Our eyes meet and it’s all I can do to restrain myself.

      ‘He always did enjoy being the centre of attention,’ Turgood continues, so casually that my skin crawls. ‘Such a pity he felt the need to concoct such vicious lies about life at the home. Has he ever admitted to you that he once thanked me for looking out for him? Some of the other boys could be quite rough and ready at times but once I took Freddie under my wing, they left him alone. His life at that home would have been far worse had I not looked out for him.’

      Bile builds in the back of my throat. Even now, after the truth has come out and he’s been punished for his crimes, he has the nerve to maintain an air of injustice about what has happened.

      I won’t give him the satisfaction of my outrage. ‘Freddie is doing really well, as it goes,’ I say proudly. ‘He’s settled and is using his newfound fame to help others. I’ve never seen him looking so well, and now he has a rich life to look forward to while you’re slowly dying in here.’

      I turn to leave, but it appears he isn’t done with me yet.

      ‘Do you really want to know the truth about your sister?’

      I freeze, but do not dare look into his eyes.

      ‘Because if you’re serious about finding out how she ended up on that video, I might be able to tell you something that would help.’

      Jack is standing and watching us now and I can see the concern overshadowing his face. I slowly turn back to look at Turgood. He hasn’t shifted his position, but he looks poised to deliver the ace he’s kept up his sleeve this whole time.

      ‘If you really want to know,’ he torments, ‘then I need to hear you ask for my help.’

      I know he’s baiting me again, and that I should just leave the room and never look back, but I can see in his eyes that he has been holding back and I would never forgive myself if I turned away from the search for Anna over something as petty as this.

      ‘I see the way you look at me,’ Turgood continues, ‘with that look of disdain that all younger people seem to carry these days. You hear Freddie’s version of events and hold me accountable but you have no clue what it was like being responsible for so many broken lives, dealing with violent outbursts and emotional breakdowns. I did what I believed was in the best interests of those thrust into my care, and whether you believe me or not, I took care of Freddie and the others. They’d be dead if it wasn’t for me, so stop hoisting me up as the villain of your piece. There are far worse players out there that you’ve yet to encounter and trust me, by comparison I’m a saint.’

      ‘I want to know about my sister.’

      ‘Then ask me.’

      I grind my teeth, knowing I will regret sinking to his level, but I don’t see any way around it. ‘Very well. Please help me to understand how my sister ended up on that video.’

      His lips curl up fully this time as he claims his simple victory. ‘See, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?’

      I can’t bring my eyes to meet Jack’s but I can feel them burning a hole into my face.

      Turgood rubs his hands together and savours his moment, committing every second of my submission to memory, to play out over and over when he’s alone.

      ‘I don’t recall ever meeting your sister,’ he begins like some great orator, ‘but I met many runaways like her – children who couldn’t cope with home, or were escaping some revolting upbringing. Being society’s most vulnerable, they soon fall in with the wrong crowds and in their moments of desperation they’ll take any help offered, even if it comes at a dangerously high cost. At first they’ll be reluctant to do what is asked of them, but when the rewards appear and they realise what little is required to bring that element of security, they soon see that there is no way back. If your sister is in one of the videos your police friend over there referred to, then it’s safe to assume that she was there by choice. If you want my advice, stop looking for someone who doesn’t want to be found.’

      I can’t contain my rage and I lunge forward, slamming my hands down on the table, growling at the now cowering Turgood. ‘You have no idea who my sister is or how far I’m prepared to go to find her.’

      I feel Jack’s hands on my arms within seconds, and he yanks me away from the table as the bolts on both doors are rapidly undone.

      ‘You’ll rot in hell, you son of a bitch!’ I manage to shout as Jack drags me from the room, my eyes warm with tears.

      Chapter Four

      Then

       Bovington Garrison, Dorset

      No, that can’t be the alarm already, thought Natalie, rolling over to hit the snooze button, but grimacing as the agony of the night’s escapades tore up her leg. Although Jane had yanked out the thin branch, Natalie was certain she could feel tiny splinters still firmly embedded beneath her skin, each one waiting to push through into her bloodstream and float around her body for the rest of the day.

      ‘Time to get up, sleepyhead,’ her mum called through the closed bedroom door, but thankfully she didn’t come in.

      Gripping her thigh, Natalie manually lifted and shifted her right leg, holding her breath to fight against the urge to yell out in pain. Her mum would know what to do, how to make it better, but she’d also want to know how Natalie came to have a gaping bloody hole in her calf.

      When she’d snuck back in last night, it had taken all her willpower not to knock on her parents’ door and tell them exactly what had happened: the woods, the game, Sally… everything. But as she’d hovered by the door, willing her hand to reach up for the handle, she’d remembered the sting of Louise’s slap and the warning that they weren’t to tell anyone. They’d made a pact, and breaking a pact was a dangerous thing, Natalie knew.

      Hitting the snooze button, Natalie propped herself up on her pillows. She leaned back into them and wiped the thin sheen that had pooled on her forehead. The room wasn’t overly warm but the effort of moving her leg had taken a lot out of her. Louise had said she was being a wet blouse worrying about the leg, and as an older girl she was surely more knowledgeable about such matters, right? If she said the leg wouldn’t get infected, then there really wasn’t anything Natalie should be worried about.

      Taking a deep breath to settle the bubble of anxiety building in the pit of her stomach, she whipped back the duvet and stared down at the strapping she’d managed to pinch from the bathroom cabinet and wrap around her leg in the pitch black. It was a bulbous and bloody mess, but at least the staining hadn’t spread to her bed covers; thank heaven for small mercies. She’d have to dispose of the strapping on the way to school. There was no way it could be reused, and she doubted her mum would be able to get it clean. If anyone asked what had happened to the roll of bandage, she’d just have to plead ignorance.

      ‘I’m going downstairs now,’ her mum called through the door again, this time adding a knock to ensure that her


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