Stuart James - Apartment 6

He seized her hand, pushing her against the wall, the light from the lift showing the passion on his face. Oliver turned, drawing his hands through her hair, moving her head back, planting kisses on her neck and chest, then guiding his leg to her crotch, pushing between her thighs.

She lifted her finger, placing it on his wet lips. ‘Not here.’

In the kitchen. Oliver pushed a heap of papers from the counter onto the floor. The crash caused Meagan to jump.

He gripped her around the waist, lifting her onto the edge of the table. They looked into each other’s eyes, driven by overwhelming passion, holding each other’s gaze. Oliver leant forward, pushing his lips on hers, both their mouths open, intense short breaths, hard kissing, biting. He moved towards her ear, breathing deeper, causing her to lose control. She was quivering, goose pimples covering her arms as he gently blew warm air onto her lobes, sucked on them.

Oliver pulled her towards him, pushing himself between her legs, gently kissing the top of her arms, caressing her shoulders, tracing his fingers to her breasts, ripping open her blouse, buttons hitting the floor as he pulled her closer.

Oliver removed his T-shirt. Meagan glimpsed his firm chest, tight stomach and broad shoulders.

He lifted her dress, at the same time removing his jeans, kicking them to the side and entering Meagan for the first time.

They sat in the kitchen, wrapped around each other, both naked and feeling immense satisfaction. The passion between them was electric, an overwhelming release for what they’d been through together.

After a few minutes, Meagan broke the silence. ‘What now?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Will I see you again? Rob’s back tomorrow. I can’t bear the thought of him returning.’

Oliver stood. The worry concerning her husband returning was too much. He couldn’t be here. ‘I have to go, Meagan. I’ll call you.’

She threw on a bathrobe and walked him to the door, peeping out to make sure the communal hall was empty.

As Oliver stepped out of the apartment and stood at the top of the stairs, he noticed the front door to apartment seven was open. ‘Meagan, I shut the door when I dragged the trunk out here earlier. I made sure of it. I pulled it hard and tested it. It was closed.’

Meagan moved to where Oliver was standing. ‘What’s going on? How can it be open?’

Oliver pictured the scene earlier. They had moved gloved-man out to the communal hall and he was certain he closed the door before manoeuvring the body downstairs. He was sure. He pushed the door open with the sleeve of his jacket. The hall was dark; the lights switched off, just how they’d left it earlier.

Oliver stepped inside apartment seven while Meagan waited in the hall. He came out a few minutes later. ‘I don’t get it, Meagan. I must have left it open. That’s all I can think.’

Oliver pulled the door to apartment seven, making sure it was closed.

A deathly silence fell over the two of them as they listened to footsteps charging up the stairs, moving at a great pace, heading towards where they were standing.

‘Quick, Meagan. Go inside, lock the door, I’ll hide in the lift. Go now.’

Oliver raced along the hall, listening to the person making their way to the second floor. The doors to the lift were open, and Oliver stepped inside, jamming them as close together as possible with his foot so he could keep hidden.

The front door to apartment six was shut, and Meagan was dipping her hand furiously into the pocket of the bathrobe, fishing for the keys. The footsteps were at the top of the stairs. Oliver watched between the lift doors.

The guy stood in front of her. She turned slightly, watching from the corner of her eye as he frantically looked up and down the corridor. He was over six foot, well built, with cropped black hair and wore a leather jacket and dark blue jeans. Oliver could see his desperation and sense his overbearing demeanour.

The man pointed along the hall. ‘You know a guy called Tony? He lives here. I think it’s this one.’ He pointed to apartment seven.

Meagan turned, facing him. ‘I don’t know. There’s a guy who lives in seven. I don’t see him much. He keeps himself to himself, you know.’

The guy stood against the door of apartment seven, rapping it with his knuckles. ‘Tony. Open up.’

Oliver listened from the lift, running the scene from earlier in his head, hoping they hadn’t left any evidence inside the apartment.

‘Who would have the key for this place?’

‘Key?’

The man turned, moving closer. ‘That’s what I asked.’

Meagan took a deep breath. ‘There are no skeleton keys. We have our own.’

He moved away from Meagan, heading to the lift.

‘Where are you going?’ she asked. Her legs were shaking, her voice cracking. Oliver was standing inside the lift, hearing the heavy footsteps moving towards him.

‘Is there a back entrance? I’m going to see if a window is open,’ snapped the visitor.

‘You’re going the wrong way. It’s back here.’ Meagan pointed to the other side of the hall as the guy stopped, turned and headed to where Meagan was pointing. Oliver let out a deep breath, edging further against the lift wall.

‘Come with me, show me how to get out there,’ the guy instructed.

Oliver listened to Meagan and the guy as they walked along the hall, pushing open the fire escape which led out to the second-floor roof. He could hear voices; the guy was shouting, Meagan was stuttering, fearful of what this guy was going to do. Oliver edged out of the lift, watching the door as Meagan held it open, stood against it. The guy continued shouting, swinging his arms like a large oaf.

Oliver kept as quiet as possible, his heart racing as the guy moved into the communal hall and charged down the other side past apartment six to the lift.

‘No!’ Meagan shouted.

He stopped suddenly, and Meagan raced towards him. As she reached where the guy stood, she looked into the empty lift.

The guy turned to Meagan, shouting at the top of his voice. ‘If I don’t get answers, I’m coming back tomorrow.’

She watched him move to the stairs and go down onto the street.

‘Mummy, I’m tired. When will we be there?’

They were heading to Tricia’s sister, who lived around seventy miles from them in a beautiful cottage on the outskirts of Exeter.

Although Tricia and Anne hadn’t kept in regular contact over the last few years, they were extremely close with one another. Life had gotten in the way, and it was hard to keep in touch. Besides, Sean would never let Anne stay for more than a night if she visited them.

Tricia knew her sister would be there for her and insist they stay for as long as they needed. She didn’t bother calling ahead, as it was difficult to explain on the phone. Although Anne had an idea of what Sean was like, she didn’t know the depth of his cruelty.

‘We need to get to the station, Meggy. It’s not far when we get to the other side. A short bus ride.’

They were walking along a deserted country lane, fields either side of them. The wind had picked up, and a faint howl screeched through the trees.

Tricia glanced at Meagan, thinking she could have waited and asked Mr Tunney for a lift, but she couldn’t trust him not to slip up and tell Sean where they were going. Besides, it wasn’t fair on him to keep a secret like this. She was on edge. Sean had no reason to drive out here, but there was always a slight chance.

‘Are you thirsty, Meggy?’ Tricia dipped into her bag, pulled out a small bottle of water and handed it to Meagan. ‘It shouldn’t be too far now. Are you okay?’