Time to Die

Chapter Fifty-Two

In the mirror, daubed in ghostly fingerprints, were the scrawled words ‘LOOK UP’. Je

A frown burrowed its way into her forehead, and she stared up at the ceiling spotlights for answers. What does it mean, look up? she thought, her heart picking up a beat.

The extractor fan kicked in, fading the words as it sucked the steam from the room. She squeezed her damp feet back inside her boots, her flesh pinching against the taut black leather. The answer came to her like a bolt of lightning. The loft! He’s in the loft! The realisation invoked a fluttery, breathless feeling upon her. All thoughts of Christian’s visit were forgotten as she dragged the vanity chair to the landing, her mind flooded with thoughts of Will. Her nightmare showed him in a dark space, warm and heady … just like her loft. The moans she heard in her sleep – had they been real? Had he been calling for help? Had Will been lying in agony as she slept in her soft warm bed below? And if so, who put him there? Had the Raven been above her head all along? Had he crept into the loft while she was asleep? Surely she would have known. The thoughts lingered as she pulled down the extendable silver ladder, allowing it to clank against the soft woollen carpet below. A wave of sickness descended on her as fear ran riot with her imagination. She steeled herself as she gripped the cold aluminium, trying not to think the worst. How on earth could Will have ended up in her home? Cobwebs lingered along the edges of the dark space. It was the one room she could not bear to clean. But cobwebs and spiders were the least of her worries as she entered the attic. She inhaled through her nostrils, praying she would not be greeted by the scent of death.

Adjusting her eyes to the dark, her hands grasped blindly for the nylon string to activate the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. She swallowed back the dryness in her throat as dread flooded her system. Stale heat cloaked a musky smell, which hung heavily in the air. She whispered a quick, silent plea for help before calling Will’s name. Her right hand grasped in the dark air as her left clung onto the cold metal steps. The long nylon string teased her palm and she grasped it quickly, tugging hard until it lit the loft with a sharp click. Her eyes darted around the shadows and settled in the corner, focusing on a body.

The figure of a man lay on its side, bathed by the shadows of the dim light.

‘Will? Is that you?’ Je

Je

‘Will!’ she cried, her voice piercing through the stifling air. With shaking fingers she tentatively reached out to touch his cheekbone, whimpering ‘Please be OK, please be OK.’ She could not bear the thought of touching his cold dead body. Relief flooded through her as she felt life in his clammy skin. Tears sprang to her eyes at the sight of Will reduced to such a pitiful state. Cradling his head, she called his name, lightly tapping his cheek. But it made little difference as he lay lifeless and gaunt under the light of the single bulb.

She shook her head, trying to ward off the drunke

‘Sick bastard,’ Je

‘Je

‘I need a phone … call for help,’ she said, concentrating hard on her words. ‘Will’s in the loft. He’s hurt. I need … ambulance.’

‘What! Are you OK?’

‘I … I don’t know,’ she gasped, hanging onto the banisters for support. ‘I don’t feel so good. I’ll explain later. Please, call them.’

Christian’s blond quiff bounced as he nodded ferociously. ‘Of course. You go inside, I’ve got my phone in the car, I’ll call them straight away.’

Satisfied, Je

She gritted her teeth in determination as she mounted the stepladder and hoisted herself into the loft. ‘It’s OK, Will … help is on its way,’ she said breathlessly as her heart pounded like a jackhammer.

Someone shuffled in the kitchen downstairs. It must be Christian waiting for the ambulance, Je

‘Will, if you can hear me, just hang in there. Help is coming. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.’ Je