Somebody to Love: Sigh With Contentment, Scream With Frustration. At Time You Will Weep. (31 page)

They must have cut themselves on the glass, she thought obliquely. Then swallowed hard. Shit! Where
is
she? ‘Sade! Sadie! Sweetie, where are you?’

‘Findus!?’

She took two careful steps forward to peer under the table. No rabbit. Cucumber crushed, green slime now underfoot, but no rabbit.

‘
Shit
! Findus?!’ Carelessly, Donna flew to the utility. He wasn’t there. The cage door was open. The cage was bare. ‘Oh, no. Please, God…’ Donna’s heart twisted inside her…
not the little animals.

‘Findus!’ Terror vying with blind-fury, she turned to yank open the back door. ‘Fin… Oh, baby.’ Blinking hard against the rain, tears stinging her eyes, Donna padded across the soggy lawn, catching Findus mid-hop to pluck the disorientated bunny up.

Poor thing, he was shivering. Donna planted a soft kiss on his startled face. ‘A damp little puff-ball, aren’t you, sweetie, hmm? Poor baby. Poor little…’ Her voice cracked. She stifled a sob, failed to stifle a tear, which slid down her cheek to plop onto velvet-soft fur — and nestled Findus close.

‘Sadie!’ she called.

Nothing but silence for answers, Donna headed fast back to the house.

‘Sadie?!’ She flew back up the hall, peering out into the night, the only movement the flickering shadows of streetlights.

No scuffle of dog’s claws on paving stones. No dog.

‘Calm down.’ Donna said it out loud, trying to keep rising panic at bay.

She turned back. Went back inside. Needed to call the police. Needed to check the lounge.

She didn’t need to turn on a light. She could see from the dim light of the hall that there
was
no recognisable lounge.

Her stomach turned over, every desecration scorching her eyes like a flashbulb. She followed the red trail of blood around the room. Registered the armchairs turned upside-down. The cushions strewn around. Photographs wiped from shelves. Ornaments broken. Books and magazines splayed open.

The walls were moving. This time she could see them.

Donna tried to breathe but her chest was too full.

She walked back to the front door, faster down the path, quickened her pace, then ran, rabbit still in arms and shoeless through the streets. Park, she willed herself on, heedless of the grit cutting spitefully into her feet. If Sadie was anywhere, that’s where she’d be.

And on foot… three feet… this was the way she would go. Donna followed the route they’d taken when Sadie had four, good strong legs, through the trees that shielded the estate from the road.

The main road.

Sadie wouldn’t sit.

Why would she, without Donna to tell her to. Damn it! Holding Findus tight to her breast, Donna tore savagely back at the branch that tore at her coat; sodden and wet and heavy with rain. Damn silly fancy-dress underneath. No shoes on her feet.

Useless,
useless
woman. She ran faster.

Down the bank and towards the road, blinded by the rain, the headlights. The sharp blue light, which flickered in time with the siren.

Donna kept running.

Alongside her now, the blue light again. The wail of the siren.

The headlights flashed and dazzled her as she searched for a gap in the traffic.

God, what about the pond? Panic clutched at her throat.
Come on, hurry up
. She willed the car on. A three-legged dog can’t swim.

The car passed, at last. The headlights, swerved.

The blue light danced in the distance, then stopped.

Was that her? Donna fancied she saw Sadie. There, across the road. A dog or a fox? Donna squinted against the rain. Too big for a cat. Three legs or four?

‘Sadie!’ She plunged forward — and an arm snaked its way around her waist, another around her ribs, yanking her back hard, as a car sliced past, mere inches from her bare feet.

Donna turned and buried her face hard in his chest, fear clawing at her insides and her heart thundering, in time with Mark’s.

‘Donna?’ He eased her chin up and searched her face, anger in his eyes; confusion.

Fear? Yes, fear. He was terrified.

‘What happened, Donna?’ Mark’s tone was terse. His face was tense. ‘Donna? Talk to me. Tell me what happened, Donna. Can you do that?’

Donna tried, but the words wouldn’t come. She felt so tired, suddenly. So very, very tired.

‘Donna!’ Mark shook her attention back to his face.

‘Findus.’ Donna held tight to the petrified rabbit and tried to focus her thoughts. ‘Sadie… She’s gone.’

She pulled in a breath. Breathed in hard. Then stiffened in his arms. ‘I can’t find her!’

Donna tried to pull away. She had to go. She couldn’t stand here in the street, in bare feet, doing nothing. ‘There’s… blood. On the floor. On the…’ she faltered. ‘Blood. Everywhere.’

Couldn’t stand here. Couldn’t stand. ‘I have to find her. I have to find her, Mark. Please let me…’ Donna choked, the ground seemed to be shifting beneath her, a scream building inside her. She wouldn’t. She didn’t want to cry like a baby. She just wanted to find…

‘Come on.’ Gently Mark eased Findus from her to his waiting partner, then scooped her easily into his arms

Donna didn’t fight. She had no fight. It felt good to have him so close. Safe. To be held so close to his heart.

****

Mark’s partner was being really kind. Donna couldn’t drink the tea he’d made for her though. Her teeth kept chinking against the rim of the cup.

‘But what about Karl?’ she asked, again.

‘It’s all right, Donna,’ his partner eased the cup from her hands. ‘Like I said, Mark’s called his carer. Karl’s being looked after.’

‘But he has to go.’ Donna tried to stop shaking. Willed herself to stop, but her body wouldn’t comply. ‘Karl needs him.’

‘I think he’d rather be here, just now. Don’t worry about Mark, hey? He’s not about to do anything that might upset his son.’

‘No.’ Donna nodded. Of course he wouldn’t. ‘He’s a good man,’ she said, distractedly.

‘Better one than I am.’ His partner sat down beside her and tried to encourage Donna to take a sip of tea.

‘But what about Starbuck?’ Donna spluttered before the cup reached her lips. ‘He’s poorly. The lady police officer said…’

‘He’s fine. The vet came in to see him, and he’s doing — ‘

He stopped as Mark came back into the lounge.

‘All finished?’ he asked him.

‘Pretty much. Thanks, Phil. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate —’

‘Forget it.’ Phil stood up. ‘It’s what mates are for. I’d better get off though. I’ll sort the paperwork, and get Donna a crime reference number.’

Mark nodded. ‘Cheers, Phil.’

‘No problem.’ Phil placed a reassuring hand on Mark’s shoulder as he walked to the door. ‘Try and get some sleep, hey? You look about done in.’

‘I will,’ Mark promised.

Raking his hand through his hair as Phil left, he walked over to Donna. ‘Okay?’ he asked, crouching down in front of her.

Donna nodded. ‘Fine,’ she said, her foot playing out a nervous tap-dance on the floor.

Mark smiled. ‘Obviously.’ He pulled the blanket draped about her shoulders tighter.

‘Well, I’m not, entirely,’ Donna conceded, poking her hand from under the blanket to drag across her nose. ‘But I will be. I can cope.’ She sniffed and hoisted her shoulders up.

‘I don’t doubt it.’ Mark smiled again, no trace of sarcasm there.

He really was a good man. And she’d compared him to Jeremy. Donna shuddered and studied the ceiling, just long enough to get the stubborn tears in check. She was quite sure Mark would offer her a shoulder to blubber all over. He wasn’t a man to be afraid of emotion. But how painful would that be – for her?

‘You didn’t find her, then?’ Donna looked at him. His hair was wet. She stilled an urge to reach out and smooth it. His clothes were wet. Even his beautiful eyelashes were wet. He hadn’t said he was going out to look when he’d taken Findus back to his cage, but he obviously had.

He hadn’t found her though. She could tell by the disappointment in his eyes. Every emotion he had, it occurred to her then, showed in Mark’s eyes. Perhaps she should have been more observant, instead of paying heed to the incessant doubt trundling round in her head.

Mark reached for her hand. ‘She’ll turn up, Donna. Phil’s going to keep an eye out on the way back. The officers who were called to your friend’s party are going to keep an eye out, too. And tomorrow, Sadie will have her very own missing persons report. Try not to worry. Well find her, somehow.’

Yes, but it was the
how
bit that was worrying Donna. In what condition would they find her? And what about Matt? Sadie might just be a dog, but it would break his heart, thinking harm might have come to his little three-legged friend.

Donna closed her eyes and bit back the tears, hard.

‘Come on.’ Mark got to his feet. ‘It’s okay to go upstairs now. I’ll run you a hot bath. It might help.’

Donna nodded. She couldn’t imagine anything nicer, apart from perhaps to curl up with Mark beside her, so why did her legs suddenly feel like two lumps of lead?

‘Come on, Madonna. You’ll catch your death and have to cancel your next tour.’ Mark smiled, squeezing her hand, gently coaxing her to her feet. ‘I’ll come up with you.’

If only, Donna thought. To be held by him, to lie in his arms and stay like that forever.

Mark followed her up, making sure she didn’t trip over her blanket, waited for her to go into the bedroom, then set about running her bath.

He wouldn’t come in, of course, after the awful episode in there. And she’d need her privacy, he must suppose. Donna wished he had come in, though. She didn’t want her privacy, not in a room strangers had been through. She just wanted her jim-jams.

Donna surveyed the mess. The strewn about bedclothes. The askew wardrobe doors. Tee shirts lolling like tongues from open drawers.

Even her lingerie. What use would that be now? She couldn’t wear it. Any of it. She trailed towards the drawer, then stopped.

Oh, dear Lord. She sank to her knees. Plucked the little four-by-four photographs from the floor. One of the Perspex frames was cracked. The birth certificate was torn. She smoothed it out. Swallowed, and smoothed it some more.

Swallowed again, and looked heavenwards.

Donna wasn’t sure how long she knelt there. Hadn’t realised how badly she was shaking, until Mark pulled her back into his arms. ‘Matt’s brother?’ he asked quietly.

Donna stiffened.

‘Talk to me, Donna. Please? Don’t shut me out.’

Donna couldn’t talk to him. Couldn’t speak at all. The walls were too close. Much too close.

Mark tightened his arms around her, pressed his face close to hers and held her. Kept holding her, while the sobs wracked her body. Until the walls came crashing in.

****

Mark wasn’t relying on instinct. He knew with certainty what kind of lowlife had been crawling around Donna’s home. What he didn’t have, was proof.

He nodded his thanks to the doctor, showed him out, and headed quietly back upstairs.

Would there even be any proof, he wondered, as he went back to Donna’s bedroom. Fingerprints would be useless if his instinct was right. There were shoeprints in the blood, but too smudged to be of any real use. And DNA evidence from the actual blood depended on forensics. That could take days.

Mark wasn’t even sure the bastard who’d broken in
was
bleeding. Donna definitely was, cuts to her feet from the glass. And Sadie? She might well have been bleeding too, given the bloody paw prints he’d found. Prints which couldn’t possibly have been put there after Donna had come home to find the dog gone.

She was sleeping now, small mercy. He crept over to the bed and made sure the duvet was tucked up tight around her. That the pillow was there, by her side — a poor substitute for her dog, he knew, but something she could hold onto, until he could find Sadie. And find her he would.

Thank Christ, Rachel had mentioned the call-out to the fancy dress party, which Mark had guessed must have been the one Donna was going to, given the gay friends. He might never have been in the vicinity otherwise. And Donna would have been here on her own.

At least now she might get some rest. She’d been shaking so much he hadn’t known how to hold her. What to say. How to make the bloody nightmare go away.

Leaving the door slightly ajar, he made his way back along the landing to Matt’s room, and checked again. The PC was there, PlayStation wired up and intact. DVD shelf still stacked.

Ergo, nothing of real value missing in Mark’s practised eye.

The sound system downstairs had been taken, but it just wasn’t enough to ring true. Why leave the DVD player? Why not take the TV?

Were they disturbed?

Possibly, but not likely. The bloodstains, apart from Donna’s, had been dry for some time, which meant the bastards had been long gone by the time Donna got home. Might be that they were disturbed by someone else, but Mark didn’t think so. What he was thinking, was that it looked very much like someone had been looking for something specific. That the gratuitous damage, in fact, wasn’t.

Mark went back down to the kitchen, to check the list again as to which items Donna thought were missing. A pocket watch and some original Beatles stuff, she’d said, amongst a few other things. Items she’d apparently put up for sale on eBay, if Mark’s recollection of what he’d heard at a previous call out was right.

Mark ran his hand through his hair. In which case, his maths was probably right and he damn well intended to do something about it. Tomorrow though. Tonight he was staying put. To make sure Donna was safe. To be here when Matt came home. Likewise, if either of them needed to talk.

He sighed, reading again the letter he’d come across. Why the
hell
couldn’t she have talked to him about this?

Yes, right. When? While he was busy keeping secrets from her? Hurling accusations? Or somewhere in between? There hadn’t been much of an in between. And now, thanks to his pathetic behaviour on finding that Simon character in her bedroom… He’d blown it completely, no doubt in Mark’s mind. Donna had had feelings for him before that unforgivable display of aggression, he was sure.