The Reaper (Eastward Prison)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

HANNAH

She strode into the ward like normal, expecting to see Jack, in the bed, where he always had been. She was expecting their usual exchange. Him asking and pushing for details of the past, them getting physical, following that intimate high despite how things were unravelling around them. He expected him to be sitting on his bed, waiting for her.

But he wasn’t there.

Instead, PC Paul Roper and his supervisor, Morris, were there, hovering, waiting. They looked heavier, more menacing. Something about it all raised the hairs on her neck. Her heart beat started hammering. Something felt off. Enemy, her body screamed. She had to resist the urge to run, to fight.

“Hannah Wells,” Roper said. Morris nodded only in a greeting to her.

“Jack’s not here?” Morris asked her, nodding towards the bed, unmade, empty.

“I… just got here myself,” she said, ambiguously, she took a seat on the chair next to the bed. She had to appear cool, calm, casual. She had to pretend everything was normal. She wouldn’t give him up just yet, She wouldn’t reveal their secret. For they had that at least, they shared such a complicated and tangled web of lies and secrets. And yet some simple truths, too.

“He’s probably at a physio appointment, I think he’s doing really well physically, healing up…” She began to babble.

“Oh really?” Roper said, and for a moment she thought he’d seen through her. “Well that’s good for him, we were actually hoping to find you.”

“Oh?” she asked.

“Yes, we just wanted to ask you a few more questions-”

“Of course, fire away. Why do you need more, have you found something out?” she asked, face deadpan, innocent, helpful, perky.

Morris paused now, her gaze flitting over Hannah as if she was searching for something. Hannah was determined to give nothing away.

“No more. Hannah, we want to know a bit more about where you met Jack. And when. We need to check CCTV to confirm some key… facts,” Morris finished.

“Yes, you see, we just need to trace his movements for a month or so before the accident,” Roper added.

“I see,” she said, aiming for politely curious. “Well, I’d be happy to help, I mean, as much as I can…”

“So where did you first meet Jack?”

“In a bar.”

“Which bar?”

“Do you know, I can’t actually remember? Ha…” She stalled for time, she could do perky and innocent but they were asking her a direct question. She didn’t think they would do that. She didn’t have anything to say. CCTV? They’d see that Jack and herself weren’t anywhere together. She felt herself panicking. “It was in Shrewsbury, definitely…”

“When?”

“A few months ago-”

“What date, exactly?”

“Oh, well… it was August time, it was a warm day…”

“It was the 21st of August, we met in Raphi.” Jack’s voice cut through the room. All eyes turned to him. She felt relief bubble up inside her. He was saving her.

He strode up to his bed, holding a wet towel and leaned his back against it, looking like the furthest thing from a sick prisoner patient as it was possible to look. He looked fully recovered and dangerous. And so good looking it hurt.

Morris and Roper glanced at each other, shifted, straightened up, and cleared their throats.

“Jack, good evening,” Roper mumbled.

“Raphi Bar in Shrewsbury? You are remembering?” Morris asked, eyebrows drawn together.

“Only some snippets, bits and pieces, you know, mainly everyday things, like driving down the motorway, making a cup of coffee, evenings with Hannah, that sort of thing,” he said. He threw her a glance, a loving glance of familiarity.

He was good. Oh, he was good. She was shocked and appalled by how good a liar he was.

“You know, nights on the sofa watching a movie, conversations we had… moments we had…”

Roper cleared his throat again, barely hiding the sneer, clearly not interested in romantic moments. Moments that had never actually happened.

She looked to Roper, who looked to her, testing her. She arranged her face into the most nonchalant neutral face she could muster. Yes, these moments had happened, she told herself.

“Raphi, the night of the 21st August then, we’ll check the CCTV.”

“Great.” Jack shrugged, and leaned against the bed, tossing the towel casually onto the footboard, too.

“So, you remember much else, then?” Roper asked, matching Jack’s casual tones.

“Not really.” Jack shrugged. He paused, then added, off-handedly. “Those finger prints you took show anything?”

“Not really,” Roper replied, the same off-handed tone. They both stared at each other, long and hard. Like they were sizing each other up. Morris’ gaze flicked between them, over at her, back to Jack.

Then a nurse came into the room.

“Your medicine, Jack-”

“Here.” Roper, who was nearest the door, took the little paper cup of pills from the nurse. “We’re just asking some questions for our formal investigation, if you don’t mind, we’ll continue,” Roper added, turning his back on the confused nurse. He turned back, passing the cup of pills over to Jack.

Hannah narrowed her eyes. That was not how this worked. Jack took the cup, glancing down to look. She did, too. There were a few pills they gave him every night, pain medicine, something to help thin his blood, bring down his swelling. But she thought for a second. No, he’d stopped taking the strong painkillers the other day, he was just on paracetamol now. There were two large, navy blue pills that weren't normally in there. What was that? Where had they come from? Jack didn’t even blink, he tipped them into his mouth. She opened her mouth to say something.

Jack’s eyes flashed to her and there was something there that made her pause. A warning flash. A heavy look. She heard. She obeyed.

Jack reached for a glass of water, glugged the pills down in one gulp. Roper was watching closely.

“Well, maybe we have finished our questions after all then,” Roper said. Morris drew her eyebrows together.

“Be seeing you, Jack. Hannah.” Roper nodded at her before turning and leaving the room, Morris followed, a light puzzled crease on her brow.

Jack got into bed, kicking the wet towel to the floor.

“Jack I-”

“Hannah, listen, this is important-”

“I’m sorry-”

“Shhh, it’s okay, there isn’t much time. The medicine, it’s going to knock me out cold for a bit…”

She looked at him, his pupils were dilated already, his face pale and slack. Now she really didn’t understand. Why had he just taken the tablets from Roper?

“Why did you take those drugs? Roper shouldn’t have-”

“I know, I had to, it was a test, I couldn’t speak out because then he would know… Anyway, listen, tomorrow, it’s all going to blow up.”

“What?”

“Tomorrow, don’t come…” he said, but his eyes were closing. Now was the time to drop the games. Now was the time for action.

“Why did you take the pills? You could have said-”

“Hannah, sometimes saying nothing is better than telling the truth, isn’t it?” He said, fighting sleep and looking right at her.

Oh he knew, he remembered it all. Was he telling her not to bother coming? Because he knew she wasn’t really his girlfriend, because he knew she’d lied? Because he didn’t care about her? She felt those tears coming again.

“Tomorrow, this is very important, tomorrow-” he repeated, but he was sinking back in the bed, eyes closing now.

“What about tomorrow? Of course I’m coming tomorrow, what’s going on? Jack, I’m sorry-”

“Hannah, I don’t want you to come... it’ll be dangerous, shit’s going to hit the fan tomorrow, they want me out of it so I won’t fight it… tomorrow.” And then he was out cold.

“Fight what? Who wants you out of it? Jack?” She tried to shake him a little bit. “What do you mean?” She hissed with frustration.

What was it Roper had slipped him? That wasn’t legal, was it, a police officer drugging a prisoner? None of that should have happened. She squeezed her eyes shut. Then opened them, and took one last look at Jack, now out cold in the bed.

It was over.

In whatever form of make believe, it was all over.

He knew. He knew they weren’t really together. He had just made up all that stuff about meeting at Raphi. To save her. To protect her. To buy her some time. He knew. And he’d gone along with it. Why?

Roper had drugged him and now he was telling her not to come. Was it because he didn’t want her anymore? No, he said something about it all going down tomorrow. He didn’t want her there, because she’d get in the way? Because she’d get hurt? She didn’t know, there hadn’t been enough time!

She would end up in prison for the lies she had told. Oh God, her face burned red hot. She stood and welled up, silently, pressing her palm into her forehead as hot, silent tears freely fell. Big fat droplets that streamed off her face and left wet spots on the concrete floor. She would drive home, and she would get on with a normal evening. The police would be looking up CCTV, she had time to figure out her next move.

She realised she was thinking like a criminal now herself. What was the next move, the next lie? How would she be able to wriggle her way out of this tight spot? Her quiet little life of commuting to work in this sleepy little corner of North West England was over. Did she need to get some cash out, grab her passport, go on the run? Where would she go? Did she need to say a final farewell to her family? It felt absurd. She was in too deep now, way over her head.

But then another thought came to her. Yes she was in deep water. But do you know what? She was a strong swimmer.

She wasn’t going anywhere.

She would come straight back tomorrow and face whatever the next challenge was going to be, at Jack’s side. The tears stopped. A sense of calm, warm, soothing and peaceful, took over her. She could do this. She would do this. Whatever this was, wherever the next steps took her. She would do it with Jack. She found herself smiling. Now she had decided on the course of action, things felt clearer. She would follow Jack to the end.

She moved towards the door, opened it, and stepped straight outside into the corridor, closing the door behind her.