Terminus: Standalone

By Simon Farrant

Deep in the bowels of an abandoned industrial estate hangs a noose. Lovingly prepared. 

 

Alyson Read loves her family. Wants desperately to protect them. But an old flame might burn her reality to the ground. 

 

Gary Honeyman has a need. A need so powerful it forced his wife to an early grave. 

 

As two worlds collide, one secret hangs in the balance. One secret that could change everything. 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Farrant Fiction
• Release date: Jan 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201560478

Simon Farrant

Simon Farrant is a forty something author from Corby, England. He is a proud Yorkshireman by birth.  Writing is fairly new to him, but he has already been successful in appearing in anthologies. He writes in the thriller and horror genres.  He lives with his wife, Louise, three children & their Cat and skink. Connect with him on Facebook, @simonfarrantofficial and Twitter @asfarrant  

Book preview

Terminus

Simon Farrant

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Farrant Fiction

First Published in Great Britain in 2022 by Farrant Fiction

Copyright © 2022

The right of Simon Farrant to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All Rights Reserved

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever, without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

All characters are fictional, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

Cover by Books Covered

Edited by Amanda Horan at www.letsgetbooked.com

First Edition

Paperback Print ISBN 978-1-9161162-5-2

Printed and bound in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, Elcograf S.p.A

Farrant Fiction, Corby, UK

www.farrantfiction.com

Chapter One

The week before Christmas

The man glanced around to make sure no one was looking. Not that it was necessary. This disused industrial estate was decrepit. No works vehicles had been in the car park for at least five years. Grass poked through the edges of tarmac and flagstones around the buildings. Overgrown birch tree branches dangled, moving in time with the breeze. His red Nissan was slipped into a gap between the building and a pair of commercial rubbish containers.

He glanced at the rusty sign screwed onto the door warning of asbestos and shrugged. That will be the least of her worries.

A chunky padlock secured the door shut. The man took a key from his grey woollen coat pocket. He had put the lock there. When he’d first come to poke around the half a dozen workshop units, none of them were secure.

The sound of a train rhythmically rattling over tracks in the near distance raised his eyes up the twenty-foot-high embankment. He slipped into the building before the train came into sight, bolting the door behind him. A smile played on his lips, tugging one side of his mouth higher than the other into a sneer. He muttered, ‘Perfect. Just perfect.’

Weak winter sunlight lit the office that sat in a pod at the edge of the warehouse space. It had pleased him when the blinds functioned as well as the day when the last worker had left the building. They weren’t pretty. Dust had somehow welded itself onto the beige painted metal slats. Some of them were kinked. But they kept the office free from the prying eyes of anyone who may have wondered by. As unlikely as that was.

The man pressed the black button on the side of a small red Honda generator. It started noisily, filling the office with a sound that at first had made him fear it would treacherously deceive his concealment to the outside world. He went outside the first day that he started the generator, and was delighted that it was inaudible.

Light filled the office pod. The man’s DAB radio sprang into life. Industrial lights on yellow poles harshly lit the centre of the warehouse space.

A blue toolbox sat by the pole with lights. The man hurried to the metal chair in the exact centre of the room. He probed around in his coat pocket and smiled when he found four brackets at his fingertips.

With a smile of self-satisfaction, he opened the toolbox, and after rummaging around the items in the bottom, selected an industrial-sized drill bit. He put a dust mask over his mouth and nose, safety goggles and work gloves on.

The man took his time affixing the brackets to the chair legs. He pressed down as hard as he could onto the drill. Deep noise and vibration flooded back up his wrists and arms. Dust rose in clouds. He smirked with satisfaction that he had the foresight to bring safety equipment to bolt the chair to the floor.

‘Good. That’ll do the trick. What next?’ He chewed his lip, looking round at the odds and sods that had been left behind some time in the past. ‘That will be perfect.’

With a renewed surge in energy, he retrieved the set of blue step ladders on wheels that looked like they’d have been used to retrieve items high on racking.

He placed them five metres in front of the chair that he had bolted to the floor.

A ten-metre length of rope was by the blue toolbox, neatly coiled.

With light steps, he grabbed the rope and ascended the stairs. ‘Right, let’s see how hard this is to do.’ The man attempted to throw an end of the rope over an exposed metal beam. Missed. ‘Come on, we can do this.’

On the third attempt, the rope end clattered over the beam. The man grinned and fed the rope over the top until he could reach the other end. He made a knot and pulled it back so that it secured the rope to the beam.

With methodical care, he made a noose. He hadn’t practiced, but YouTube was a great tutor. When he had finished, he stepped back and admired his handiwork. The noose dangled twelve feet above the concrete floor.

The man sighed with happiness and made his way back over to the toolbox. He opened the lid and rummaged through the tools.

‘Excellent. This is going to be great fun. I can’t wait to get her here.’

Chapter Two

Second week of January

The Great Snow took the United Kingdom by the collar of its great coat and shook it hard, like it wanted to break its neck.

Places that hadn’t seen significant snow since the Europe-wide storm that had been named the ‘Beast from the East’ of 2018 were blanketed in much more suffocating white than that year. Overly sincere newscasters stood by impressively high snow drifts, beamed into the nation’s lounges to scare the viewers into staying at home instead of venturing out into the winter wonderland beyond their front door.

Newdon’s residents took to Facebook to share their photos of offspring sledging and building snowmen.

Annie Read scrolled through the local Facebook group, Newdonshire Chats Back, as she sat in her mother’s home drinking a coffee. She shook her head and tutted at posts, making fun of the town’s murderers’ most recent crimes. Murder isn’t something to be taken lightly, is it? she said to herself. Look Mum, it looks like Newdon is going to be mainly known for the psychopathic people who live there. I’m glad I moved out to Corby.

Alyson Read ruffled Annie’s shoulder length dark hair, which she knew would annoy her daughter. When are you back to work? It’ll take your mind off such trivia.

Tomorrow actually, Mum. I’ll take the train to work. It’ll be safer than trying to drive in this bloody snow. Not that I have my car for now, anyway. Annie went into the kitchen and clicked on the kettle, trying to ignore the nerves.

She had crashed her car two weeks earlier. A fat black cat had run out into the road, and skittered away when Annie clipped the kerb and spun into a garden wall. Several bricks fell and smashed into the windscreen.

Annie hadn’t suffered any broken bones, but was shaken up with a concussion. - I’m so glad that the cat is alright. That’s what matters to me.

That’s accurate enough. You could always go on the bus…

No, thank you - at least the train doesn’t use the road. I can just walk to the train station. Annie sighed, placing a third mug back into the cupboard with a clink as it touched the mug next to it. Heard anything from Dad?

No. He always turns his phone off. He’ll be in touch when he’s good and ready.

I hope so, Mum. Annie dipped a custard cream biscuit into her tea, expertly popping it into her mouth before it broke and fell into the drink. What did you fall out about this time? You never said.

Alyson shook her head and looked out of the window. You should remember that I don’t like to air my laundry in public. Not like those people on that Newdonshire Chats Back Facebook page.

I’m not a child anymore, Mum. I have a job, shock horror, and have a car. Maybe it’s time that we talked to each other. It’s not like you have a close best friend.

Alyson took in a sharp intake of breath, as if about to launch into a tirade, but let the air back out again slowly.

Sorry Mum. That was out of order.

Don’t worry about it. You are right after all.

An awkward silence settled in the kitchen. I get the car back next Tuesday. Hopefully, they’ll deliver it if the snow hasn’t gone away by then.

Alyson placed a hand on her hip, still avoiding eye contact with Annie. Don’t ask them to bring it to your house. Demand it. You paid damned good money for that car. Too much, if you ask me.

Annie’s shoulders lowered, and sighed a long deep breath. She made them both a coffee, making sure that she heaped the teaspoon high with instant granules for Alyson.

They drank their coffee in near silence. Annie watched her mother through the steam. Alyson looked out of the window, absentmindedly chewing her lower lip.

Was it about money? Didn’t Dad order a television?

Sorry? Oh, no, we didn’t fall out about money. We never do; what’s mine is mine and what’s his is mine as well. Alyson smiled, but the joke hadn’t breached the brooding awkwardness.

Annie drank the last bit of coffee, stood and dropped the cup into a plastic washing-up bowl in the sink. I’m going home now, Mum. I need an early night, to be fresh in the morning.

Good idea. I’m proud of you. Alyson tensed as she spoke - it was rare for her to praise anyone, let alone her daughter, aloud.

I know you are. Annie placed a hand on Alyson’s upper arm. Don’t worry, Dad will be back with his tail between his legs soon. He always is.

She kissed Alyson on the cheek. See you later.

Good luck tomorrow, I love you lots.

Annie tried to smile. Her lips didn’t quite raise above a straight line. I love you too, Mum.

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Alyson’s door closed behind Annie. She gazed at it for a few moments after it had closed.

A knock followed soon after. Alyson allowed herself a little smile as she walked over to the door.

She opened it, allowing cold air to rush into her home. A man stood in front of her, dressed smartly in a suit and overcoat.

Come in. I’ve been expecting you.

Have you? I’d have thought that you’d expect that I’d be avoiding you.

You’re a man. It’s simple to know what you’ll do next.

You rang in sick again. I’m just doing what any decent employer would do.

Alyson stood to one side to allow Gary Honeyman into her home.

He looked around, nodding to himself in approval at the tidy room. Delightful house, Alyson. You know you could do better though.

She shook her head. Don’t take your coat off. You shouldn’t be here. I’m perfectly happy here. With my husband.

Mark, isn’t it? Gary peered at a photo in a silver frame sitting on an oak sideboard. Did you tell him about our kiss?

Go now, Gary. Please. Alyson stood with a hand on her hip, and motioned with her head towards the front door. I won’t be at work for the rest of the week. I need some time to myself.

Gary looked at the other dozen photographs on the sideboard, picking them up one by one and taking his time looking at them. He noticed a black Wi-Fi video camera nestled at the end of the wooden top. It was placed beside a trio of books held together by thick bookends, painted with a woodland flower scene.

Will he be watching us talking?

Alyson shook her head. I doubt it. He’s working. He trusts me, so why would he be watching?

Gary smirked and fastened his coat up to the neck. He turned the camera to face the wall.

Go now, before I report you to Human Resources. You might be my boss, but you can’t harass me.

You think that this is harassment? That sounds like a challenge to me. Anyway, how’s that sexy daughter of yours? Gary’s smirk maddened Alyson. Her face flushed bright red. She grasped the sleeve of his coat and shoved him towards the door.

You’re in denial, Alyson. I can tell that you are still majorly attracted to me. Why don’t we just go to your bedroom and get it out of our systems?

Alyson slapped Gary. A red mark, including fingers, blossomed on his cheek.

She stood still in shock; her eyes wide open.

Call me when you’ve changed your mind. Gary winked at Alyson and blew a kiss. He opened the door, then closed it behind himself gently.

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Alyson’s phone rang. She quaffed the remaining quarter glass of white wine before picking the iPhone up from beside her on the sofa.

Shit, she cursed under her breath. Forcing herself to smile, she answered the call.

Hi Mark. Are you coming back soon?

I haven’t decided yet. Is everything alright there? I wondered if someone had burgled us and turned the camera around.

No, it must have turned round when I was dusting. There hasn’t been a break in.

I see.

I really am sorry. It meant nothing; it was just a kiss.

Mark sighed, Maybe I am looking too much into it as usual. We have been together a long time after all.

I know. I don’t want to throw twenty-four years away either. Come back home soon. I love you.

-

I love you too,

Mark ended the call.

Alyson sighed and picked up her wineglass. She cursed under her breath, realising that it was empty. Another bottle awaited her in the fridge, so she traipsed through to the kitchen and refilled her glass.

Sod it, she murmured to herself and took the bottle back into her lounge along with the full glass.

Chapter Three

Annie awoke at seven, as she always did. She’d never needed an alarm since her teenage years. Her body always knew when to wake up. Butterflies tingled in her stomach. Today is the day. Back to work. I don’t know why I feel nervous.

With the ease that only an adult in their early twenties could have, Annie slinked out of bed and hit the shower.

The hot water sluiced her nerves away, and she realised it was excitement that she had felt. With pride, she dressed in her uniform.

Breakfast was a bowl of muesli, with sliced fruit, and a mug of strong coffee.

Annie rinsed the bowl and placed it in the dishwasher. I love this. Having my own place. Leaving home was the right thing to do. I don’t know why, but I always feel like I’m a kid when I visit, not an independent adult.

She glanced out of the first-floor window that looked over the garden that she shared with the other flat. The property was originally a Victorian terraced house that had been converted into an upstairs and downstairs flat. Snow covered the small lawn. Only in the corners of the garden were there tiny patches of clear ground where the fences sheltered.

Best wrap up warm, she said to no one in particular. Annie lived alone for now. She was saving for a Ragdoll kitten. A cat or dog had always been a desire, but her parents always said no. More so her mum; too messy. Her landlady was more than happy to agree to Annie’s request to be allowed a feline companion. She was a cat lady. When Annie had first looked around the flat they joked that at least a pet gave unconditional love and were far less complicated than a human relationship.

Annie left home and trudged through the snow towards Corby train station.

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As Annie approached the security door to her work, the butterflies resumed a hard flap in her belly. She placed a hand on her abdomen.

Jade Kershaw, Annie’s boss, saw her approach the door and opened it for her. Annie inhaled the office odour of carpet tiles and air-freshener with relish.

Welcome back, Annie. We’ve missed you.

Annie smiled. Thank you, ma’am. I’m happy to be back. I have to admit that I’m nervous.

Jade put a maternal hand on Annie’s arm and looked her in the eye. Come on, Annie, you know that you’re one of my best controllers. I never hear a bad word about you from the police officers.

Annie applied to be a police emergency call handler a year earlier, not expecting to even have an acknowledgement of her application. To her amazement, she passed all the stages of recruitment with ease and started working at Newdonshire Police Force Headquarters a couple of months later.

The boost to her self-confidence had been tremendous, and Annie felt she was now a ‘proper adult.’ Not long after passing her twenty-first birthday, she decided it was time to find her own place to live.

Living at home meant listening to her parents arguing. To be more accurate, Alyson shouting at Mark, who soaked up all the anger like a sponge. Her dad would rarely shout back. Instead, he’d just say one or two words, and return to looking at his phone or leave the house to let the tension defuse.

Thanks boss. I’m looking forward to getting stuck into work.

Jade nodded, and with a smile towards Annie, walked over to her own desk. Other call handlers waved and smiled at her, although no-one could call out to her as the phone lines were bedlam.

Annie sat at her station, amazed to see that