Holding On To You (11 page)

'That's alright', River says. He takes the roll of one hundred dollar bills out of his pocket again, counts out six and passes them to the assistant, who seems a little shocked by the young man's wealth. He takes the money, looks at the boy, licks his fingers and counts it in the same jerky way he does everything else.

'I'm a bit of a businessman myself', River confesses, by way of an explanation. 'I've got a parcel of land up north and I breed horses. Some for steer, some for racing. All of it pretty lucrative.'

'I can see', the assistant says, holding up the money.

He wraps up the wig, with more care than he's given a client's purchase for years, and hands the parcel over to River.

'You make sure she enjoys that now', he says to him.

'I will', River says. 'This is going to change her life, I promise you that.'

With a smile, he's on his way back outside, and the old assistant is sat back down again, the TV up on the stand behind him for company.

Before River returns to the motel, he gets a haircut and a cut-throat razor shave, that makes him look even younger and more handsome than he does already, and he buys new boots, new shirts and new jeans. It isn't much of a new look, more of a smartening up of the old one, but the patterns are different enough at least to the clothes he was wearing during the raid to throw somebody off a scent if they ever get one. It's enough of an effort River figures to cover his back and make absolutely sure. Their main focus is Maddy, so as long as she looks nothing like the woman he took hostage from the bank, nobody's likely to give them a second look.

When River finally gets back to his current home, he's absolutely starving, a hunger which not even rolled up cigarettes will cut through.

Arms loaded down with bags, including Maddy's handbag and the bag of stolen money from the bank, he enters the motel room once more, immediately relieved to see that Maddy hasn't managed to escape.

'I'm hungry', she says when she sees him, relieved he's finally come back home.

It's only when she speaks, does River realise that she's somehow managed to undo the pillow case gag. What he doesn't know however, is whether she's already screamed.

Chapter 9

Buck Tavern, alive and well, suns himself on a pool side lounger, while he slurps lazily from a tall glass filled with whiskey and soda, and eats peanuts from a ceramic dish balanced carefully on his oversized, pinkish belly.

Next to him, his plastic surgery enhanced wife, a mud brown from head to toe, and wrinkled in parts the surgeon couldn't quite reach, pretends to read a mildly engaging romance novel, while instead, she keeps her eyes on the athletic pool boy, built like a Greek god, who endlessly sweeps non-existent leaves out of the pool.

Another member of staff calmly approaches them from the house, this one fully dressed and much less attractive than the boy hovering around the pool, who has been employed purely as eye candy for Alicia Tavern. He stands in front of Buck, and blocks out the sun, while he waits for him to notice.

'Well', Buck says without looking up, in an accent tinged with a southern drawl, and difficult to place specifically.

'They are all dead', the man says in a matter of fact way as though he were informing Buck of the weather.

'Who's dead', Alicia Tavern says, never once taking her eyes off the curves of the pool boys chest and arms, and his tight little butt.

Now Buck sits up. 'Alex is dead? Dead, dead?' he says and takes off his sunglasses as though in doing so he'll somehow be able to gauge the veracity of the information.

'Alex, Jack, Carlos', the only one that isn't, is River Woods. It seems like the boy you sent, somehow made it out of their alive. Perhaps aided by the hostage he took with him.'

'What the fuck, how did that happen?' Buck says.

'Apparently it's all over the news. I have the channel feed if you would like to see it? There is mobile phone footage of River taking his hostage, stealing a car and making good his escape, and then real footage of Carlos and Peters being shot dead by the police. It's pretty categorical.'

'You're having me on', Buck says, his voice now sharp with worry.

'I wish I was sir.'

'Fucking idiots. Those fucking idiots.'

'That's not all sir. I've got the police on the line. They want to speak to you.'

'The police have phoned here? How the fuck did they get this number?'

'That's something you'll have to ask them yourself', the morose, matter of fact butler says.

'Why the fuck do they want to speak to me anyway? I'm on holiday for christ sake.' Buck says, defending his involvement in advance.

'They want to make sure you're not the one with the hostage, I presume. That, and I expect they might want to ask you about whether you know the person who is.'

'River hasn't called has he?' Buck says, worried he might have done.

'No, he hasn't', the butler is happy to inform him.

'Fucking hell', Buck says, and swings his legs around, ready to get up. 'And they're on the phone now? Right now?'

'That's right', the fully clothed staff member says.

'What an absolute fuck up', Buck says, and gets up, a little wobblier now, after six whiskey and sodas, than he was when he first sat down. 'Manuel, swim a few lengths, there's a good lad. Keep Mrs Tavern entertained', he shouts to the pool boy, and goes inside with the longer serving of the two present members of his household staff.

With his hand covering the receiver, Buck says to the butler, 'If
he
calls, tell him not to come here, though I doubt he'd be stupid enough to try', before readying himself to lie to the police, as professionally as he is capable.

River locks the door calmly behind him, clicks off the TV, puts the bags on the bed,  and sits down at the edge of it opposite Maddy. It's a while before either of them speak, during which time he tries to work out whether she's been calling for help or not. She looks like she's been crying, that's for sure, but whether she's been screaming, he can't be certain. He checks the handcuffs, which have definitely not been tampered with, and then goes to the window to check the parking lot. It's as empty as it was when he drove in to it a few moments ago, save that mangy mutt, pissing on everything and skipping about like strays have a tendency to do. River returns to the edge of the bed.

'After we get fixed up, we'll go and eat. I got you some clothes and the brand new look I promised, how about that?' he says, holding up the wig.

'I like the way I already look', Maddy says defensively. 'There's nothing wrong with it.'

'No, I guess there aint if you're happy to look like you're going to a funeral', River says, trying to be funny.

'At least I don't look like a cartoon cowboy', Maddy says.

'Well look at you biting back, that's more like it', Terry says, mock offended. 'Whether you like your black dresses and Lego man haircut or not, it doesn't matter. You've got to change if you want to eat, and you do want to eat don't you?'

'Yes', Maddy says.

'Good', River agrees. 'Because I am fucking starving. And you already know I don't like to eat alone.'

River undoes the handcuffs, and releases Maddy from the radiator. She stands up, cautiously, and rubs her wrists where the metal has been biting in. River puts his hands on her shoulders in a familiar way.

'I reckon you ought to wash up, and then you can come out here and choose how you want to dress, how does that sound?' River says, taking in the bathroom and the clothes on the bed in a sweeping gesture with his arm, as though he's working at a high class hotel, and is busy displaying the penthouse suite to a top model or musician.

'Ok', Maddy says, weakened by hunger, and too tired and upset, to be another other than compliant.

'Towels, soap, and everything else you could possibly dream of are already in there for you Princess, no expenses spared', River says, his hands on Maddy's shoulders guiding her towards the badly lit, box room.

Maddy enters the tiny, dirty bathroom, while River waits on the threshold, smiling at her. She almost doesn't notice the rancid stains all over the walls, the dead cockroaches, and the cracked porcelain suite, astonished to be offered the opportunity to be alone, and unhandcuffed, even if only for a few minutes.

'I'll be waiting out here for you', River says and pulls the door shut.

Once on the inside, Maddy quickly locks the door.

'Oh and don't take forever will you?' he calls through the shut door. 'I'm as hungry as a stray dog in a motel parking lot.'

There is no window, which makes escape, even if Maddy had the confidence to do so, a complete impossibility. She didn't scream, and she doesn't really know why not. She managed to get the gag down pretty easily, and could have yelled at the top of her voice until someone heard her, and either broke down the door to get in, or opened it up with a spare from reception, but she didn't do it. She just couldn't.

Maddy checks the lock again, and looks at herself in the mirror. Does she look like she's going to a funeral? What does he mean by a Lego man haircut? Maddy has cut her hair like this for years, because it's easy to manage, and the hairdresser tells her it suits her face. Her eyes are bloodshot in the corners, and her skin looks sallow and grey under her eyes. All she can see is a skeleton looking back, and not the tired face of a beautiful girl, who has driven herself into a life of structured misery.

'Yours would too if you had to go through what I've gone through', Maddy screams at her mirror self, before unleashing several wild thumps into the softened plaster of the wall, achieving little else, but bruising to the delicate edges of her hands. Eventually she gives up, and collapses on the floor in a huddle, crying to herself.

'Are you alright in there Maddy?' River says, from the room next door, before tapping softly on the bathroom door. 'Are you trying to break out through a solid wall?'

'Stop calling me Maddy', Maddy screams from her huddled spot on the dirty lino, so close to a dead cockroach, that if she knew it, she'd probably be able to summon the strength needed to get through that wall.

'Alright', River says. 'Jeez. Are you alright in there Madeleine?' he says, genuinely worried about her.

'No', Maddy says. 'I'm not fucking alright. I've got a Lego man haircut and I look like a corpse. I look like I'm dead, and everyone hates me.'

'Nobody hates you Maddy', River says.

'Everyone hates me', she barks back. 'I've just spent the last hour watching it. People I work with are glad I've been taken. My own family won't say anything to the police to try and get me back. I've just watched it all.'

'Ok look', River says, 'Your family sound no better than mine, forget about them, because it aint worth the heartache. With everyone else, I don't know, maybe you just rub people up the wrong way. Hate is a strong word. I don't hate you.'

'No? You took me hostage, you tell me my name sounds like I've been widowed, and you tell me I dress like I'm going to a funeral. I'm sick of being bullied and made fun of.'

'Oh Maddy, Madeleine, I mean', River says, quickly correcting himself. 'You know what I really think? I think you're a beautiful girl and you just need to relax a little bit more and enjoy your life while you can. You need to let your hair down, for want of a better expression, and be a bit more flexible. You can wear what you like, that's your choice, I just think that what your doing is hiding yourself away because you're scared of showing off what you've got. If you make your decisions based on positivity that's a fantastic thing and it really shines through, but if you make them based on negativity or fear, that's the wrong way to go about it. Besides which, if it isn't working, there's no reason not to see what it's like if you change it. We've got to adapt as human beings to survive, and adapting and trying new things is where life gets fun and interesting. You still with me Madeleine?'

'Yes', Maddy says, sniffling a little.

'Now come on', River says. 'Get yourself showered, and we can go out and have some dinner. My shout.'

Maddy unzips her dress and lets it fall to the floor. She's always been conscious of her body, and has never believed she's got anything worth showing off at all. She takes off her bra, and rolls down her panties, for the first time in her adult life not bothering to fold them neatly into a pile, and steps into the stained yellow, enamel bath tub. The curtain is mouldy at the bottom from several years of overuse, and should have been changed a decade ago, but Maddy either fails to notice it, or doesn't care anyway.

The water that falls across her shoulders feels like a gift from heaven itself. It's warm, but not too hot, and comes at her in large monsoon size droplets, that she watches slide off her skin and erupt majestically on the cracked enamel by her feet. It's so perfect that Maddy could be underneath a natural waterfall in the Amazon rainforest, heated by subterranean volcanic activity, and still not be as happy. In this moment, she is more thankful for something so simple, than she can ever remember being at any point in the rest of her mostly miserable life.