‘Typical!’ Sharon said. ‘Mugs, the lot of them.’

Sadie watched them leave, feeling nothing but relief. Then she looked back towards the two families still huddled round the grave. But now Wayne Gissing was gone. She gazed all around but couldn’t see him anywhere. She wondered whether she should go and talk to Stan and Marcie. There would never be a good time to express her condolences but this, she suspected, would certainly be the worst. ‘Let’s go and get that tea,’ she said.

‘Yeah, let’s do that.’ Sharon raised her voice a little so the departing cops could hear. ‘I’ve got a bad taste in my mouth.’

They retraced their steps to the willow tree where Sharon, instead of turning right along the main thoroughfare towards the exit, took a left instead.

‘Oh,’ Sadie said. ‘Isn’t it the other way?’

‘No, love. It’s up the other end. Paladin Street. Didn’t I say?’

Sadie was less then happy to find herself walking in the opposite direction to Oaklands and away from the safety of the busy streets. Most of the other mourners, including the cops, had already passed through the wrought-iron gates and disappeared from view. She kept glancing over her shoulder but the path behind them remained empty. ‘Should we wait for Kelly?’

Sharon shook her head. ‘Best meet her there, hon. She won’t be long, though. Her mum will probably give her a lift, save her walking.’

By the time they were in sight of the other set of gates, Sadie could no longer see Eddie’s grave. The view was obscured by a line of yew trees. The path at this end of the cemetery was deserted; the morning commuters had come and gone and everything was quiet. It occurred to her that there must be other cafés much closer to the main entrance, like the one she’d visited last time she was in Kellston.

‘We could have gone to Connolly’s,’ Sadie said.

‘It’s always busy there, hon. Can’t hear yourself speak. No, it’s better where we’re going.’

‘And how far is it exactly?’

‘Just round the corner. We’re almost there. It won’t take us more than two minutes now.’

Sadie felt a flutter of anxiety in her chest. Why had she agreed to this? Surrounded by other people, she’d felt that nothing really bad could happen but away from the grave, away from the other mourners, she was aware of how vulnerable she was. Ahead of them, to their right, an empty red Capri was parked up on the side of the thoroughfare. Further on she could see the road through the smaller set of gates. The odd car went by but there wasn’t much traffic. Still, it was a road at least, a public place where there would be witnesses if the Gissings had more in mind than a friendly chat.

Sadie upped the pace, eager to escape from the graveyard.

‘Hey!’ Sharon protested. ‘Hold yer horses. I can’t be jogging in these heels.’

It was just as Sadie drew adjacent to the Capri that it happened. The back door was suddenly flung open and a man leapt out. She stifled a scream, the breath catching in her throat. It only took a split second for her to recognise Wayne Gissing. After the black eye and the split lip, the next thing she noticed was the glint of metal from the knife he was holding.

35

It was fortunate that Wayne’s timing was off and he stumbled as his feet made contact with the concrete path. Sadie took the opportunity to try and make a run for it, but Sharon grabbed hold of her coat and held on tight. The two of them struggled with each other, teeth bared, arms flailing wildly, before Sadie finally managed to break free. With her route out of the cemetery blocked, she sprinted across the grass and between the graves. Where was she going? She had no idea. Instinct had taken over and she was simply running for her life.

Her heart was racing, the adrenalin coursing through her veins, as she sidestepped the tombstones and scanned the horizon. There must be someone, somewhere… Jesus, where was everyone? Panic and fear swept through her body. It didn’t occur to her to scream or shout; she needed every ounce of energy to keep on going. Her bag slipped from her shoulder and fell to the ground. She left it there, abandoned by a black marble headstone.

And now she was aware of the footsteps behind her, of the thick boots squelching down into the earth. She tried to pick up speed but the ground was soft and wet and slippery. Faster, she had to go faster, but already her lungs were pumping, her breath coming in short shallow gasps.

Sadie had barely covered thirty yards when he caught up with her. She heard his heavy panting, his muttered curses, just before she felt his hand clamp down on her shoulder. The pressure spun her around and she went tumbling on to the grass. Instantly he was on to her, yanking her up and wrapping his arm around her throat.

‘Bitch!’ he spat into her neck.

Sadie lashed out, trying to free herself from his grasp. She wasn’t going to die in this damn graveyard. Not today. Not like this. She wouldn’t, she couldn’t. She dug her fingernails into the soft flesh of his arm and heard him yelp. Seconds later she felt a sharp stinging pain along the back of her hand.

‘Do that again,’ he hissed into her ear, ‘and I’ll slice your bloody throat open.’

It was only then that Sadie realised she’d been cut. She stopped struggling, went limp and stared down at her hand. The knife had traced a diagonal line from the knuckle of her forefinger to the bone of her wrist. It was bleeding profusely, long scarlet ribbons running down between her fingers and dripping on to the ground.

‘Please,’ she begged as she felt the cold steel of the blade press against her throat.

‘What’s the matter, hon? I thought you liked knives. Isn’t that how you wasted Eddie?’

‘It wasn’t me. I swear it wasn’t.’ She was trying to speak without moving, terrified that the blade might slip. Her chest was heaving, her heart thumping furiously. ‘I didn’t do it.’

‘You, Stone, one of Terry’s goons. It don’t make no difference, babe. The end result is the same. Eddie’s six foot under and someone has to pay.’

‘It wasn’t me,’ she repeated, her voice a hoarse whisper.

‘We’ll see. Now are you going to behave, Sadie, or am I going to have to get nasty?’

Sadie let out a groan. Wayne Gissing wasn’t a big man but he was a solid one and, as she’d already discovered, he was quick on his feet. She didn’t have a chance in hell of getting away of him. ‘I will. I swear I will.’

‘You’d better, babe, ’cause if you try another stunt like that, you and me are going to fall out big time.’

‘I’ll do whatever you want.’

‘Sure you will.’ He released his hold on her and stood back. ‘Start walking,’ he ordered, brandishing the knife. ‘Over to the car. Try and make a run for it again and it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.’

Sadie gave a nod. ‘I won’t. I promise.’

Wayne Gissing flicked shut the knife and put it in his pocket. ‘Go on then. We ain’t got all day. And remember, I’ll be right behind you. No second chances, babe. This is it.’

Sadie set off obediently across the grass, retracing her earlier steps. There was no doubt in her mind that he meant what he said; she had seen the cruelty in his eyes, the desire to hurt her. As she walked she raised her hand to her mouth and sucked on the wound. The cut was starting to throb, a hard angry pain that helped focus her mind. This was just the beginning, she realised. Unless she did something fast, there was far worse to come.

When they reached the marble headstone where her handbag was still lying, she glanced over her shoulder. ‘Can I pick it up?’

Wayne smirked. ‘So long as you ain’t got a brick in it.’

‘No,’ she said, still trying to catch her breath. ‘No bricks.’ Sadie slowly bent and retrieved her bag. The blood from her hand ran down the soft black leather. Damn it! The handbag had been expensive, Italian, and now it was probably ruined. She frowned at the irrelevance of the thought, aware of how unimportant it was in the present scheme of things.