She had decided to avoid answering the question directly. Instead, she told him simply that the police had no leads. She held her breath, hoping it would satisfy him. It took only a few seconds for her to realise it didn't. He drew himself up, and pushed his face up to hers so they were only a millimetre or so apart. Even through the balaclava, she could feel his hot air on her face as he exhaled, and smell the surprisingly clean, sharp mint odour, mixed with the mustiness of the dark, woollen material. "That's no answering my question." Once he'd growled this, thankfully, he drew back slightly before he carried on. "Let me guess, lover boy Ormerod phoned them."
She stilled, her fear temporarily replaced by shock. No one knew about them! No one! How could this- presumed- stranger know? "How…?" She trailed off, unsure whether he would be happy to answer.
"How do I know?" He actually laughed, but it wasn't a humorous laugh, it was more of a self-satisfied, knowing laugh. One of someone who had the upper hand in a situation, which, in this circumstance, he most certainly did; he, holding all the knowledge, motives, reasons, whilst she remained clueless. Not to mention the fact that his partner could kill her at any second. "It's obvious!" He declared, throwing his arms in the air. "Everyone's stupid not to have noticed. You're practically glued to each other. I'll give you credit Jill, you did a good job in seducing him."
"What?" She shouted before she could stop herself, all fear of the consequences being pushed away as anger and indignation took over, and a strange need to justify herself to a man who, over the previous weeks, had terrified and physically hurt her. "His wife was in a coma, he needed someone to support him. We became close!"
"And you took advantage of that! You disgust me." The last was said with such hatred, she was sure he would have spat at her had his balaclava not been in the way.
Despite the dire situation she was in, and despite the potential consequences, his remarks angered her further and her mouth ran away from her. "Who are you to judge me? You, who sends threats, and blackmails, terrifies two innocent children, and abuses without a care! You know nothing about my relationship with Gordon. And as far as I'm concerned, I'm a much better person than you are. So don't you dare pass judgment."
"Let her go."
"What?" She gasped.
"What?" The man holding her echoed, speaking for the first time.
It was the last thing she'd expected him to say after her outburst. She'd thought he at least yell at her, if not hurt her again.
"I said, let her go."
The man complied. Once the arm was removed from her neck, Jill realised just how must pressure had been exerted on her windpipe.
Before she could even think of trying to escape, the man in front seized her arm and pulled her towards him. His voice suddenly became lower, harsher and a lot more frightening. "Now I'll show you what you'll get for speaking to me like that." He pushed her towards the wall of the house, and she fell into it, her shoulder whacking against the stone and sending a sharp shoot of pain from the point of contact. Before she had a chance to steady herself, he was at her again, pushing her to the ground, into the tangle of weeds and nettles. He did nothing for a few minutes, just stood there, bending over her, his eyes taunting her, daring her to rise so he could push her down again. She just lay still, stiff, terrified that if she moved, he'd hurt her. Her shoulder throbbed painfully where it had collided with the wall, and again with the ground.
He bent in closer to her, placed his hands on her arms and pushed her hard to the ground. He was so close she could see the millions of blood vessels, stark against the whites of his eyes. She could hear every breath he took, the rapid inhalations and exhalations, whilst she held her own, too scared even to breath. He didn't speak, just glared at her, then suddenly, he stood upright, and took a step back, and then another, and another. She finally released the air burning in her lungs. Maybe now, he was leaving. But the hope was fleeting. He raised his leg, pulled it back, then it shot forward, slamming with great force into her ribs. She cried out recoiled, curling herself into a foetal position, desperately trying to protect her torso from any more blows with her arms and legs.
He looked at her once more. "Remember Jill, don't say a word about this to anyone; silence is golden." He stepped over her quivering, curled up form, pressing down painfully on her arm for a moment with the sole of his shoe, before it was removed, and both men walked away, trampling the undergrowth.
Jill remained where she was, lying amidst the bed of nettles. She heard the hum of their car engine fill the air, then becoming quieter and quieter until it was once again silent. Only then did she realise she was crying. Her tears came faster and faster until she was sobbing, shaking quite violently, unable to stop herself.
Unnoticed by her, the jackdaw returned and gradually more birds appeared in the trees, their melodious notes floating around her, as if they had always been there. As if nothing had happened.
