Travel by Night: A gripping thriller noir by Morton-Thomas Sophie

Author:Morton-Thomas, Sophie [Morton-Thomas, Sophie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: darkstroke / Crooked Cat
Published: 2021-01-14T23:00:00+00:00

Gillian is in the early stages of labour. It’s no false alarm this time, she says.

Jonno is hovering in the kitchen, messing about with newspapers, so I tell him. He doesn’t look even slightly concerned. Just looks at me and says, “I’ve thought about your deal thingy. It’s a yes. Just gimme a minute.”

My mouth is opening, closing again. My eyes are on my friend, labouring on her hands and knees. Her clothes are stuck to her back with sweat. She has been wearing that same top every day for as long as she’s been here, pulling more and more taut at the sides with each passing day. Her joggers have been tucked under her bump for the duration of her stay here. Now it’s time for her to pay her way. And for me to pay mine.

I realise Jonno is waiting for an answer.

I say nothing, but he is beginning to look more aggressive in his face, frown lines becoming more pronounced, the sneer in his mouth more prominent.

It makes my stomach heave for a moment, the thought of what am going to have to put myself through. “What, now?”

“Yes, now.”

I remember the details of the deal I had tried to make with him. “Erm, the deal was that you organise and pay for the piano tuning before I do anything for you.” The relief is mopping at my spine, where sweat is beginning to form. I have bought myself some time. I have bought Gillian the assistance she needs at this hour.

He grins. “Done it, brownie.”

Gillian is beginning to moan as she moves backwards and forwards on her knees. An animal caught in a snare, the sounds are spine-chillingly unignorable.

I cast a look back to Jonno. He is getting his phone out of his back pocket. I fantasise about grabbing it, running, yanking that front window up and open. But Gillian is almost howling, her eyes on the threadbare carpet, as if she is the only person left in the room. I wonder how women go through this alone.

Jonno is showing me the screen of his phone. There is a text there. I try to focus my eyes on the writing, there is a receipt of some kind, sent by Brent Yorkshire Pianos. An appointment for the tuning of a piano. This Tuesday.

Gillian has stopped her noises, is sitting back on her heels and sighing. She smiles across at me.

“It stopped?” I try.

She gives a little laugh. “They are contractions. They come and go every four minutes now. I’ve been counting.”

I look back at my captor, putting his phone away again.

“Happy now?” he asks.

I’m not sure if he means that Gillian has stopped being in pain for the time being, or that I can see there is a piano appointment booked.

“I will believe it when I see it.” There was too much confidence in that voice, and he doesn’t like it. He grabs at my throat this time; my weight is hoisted upon the wall.

“Woah!” calls Gillian, perhaps only just aware of Jonno being in the same room.

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