the sofa, hand rubbing his forehead. His head was pounding and he struggled to see.
The knocking continued.
Getting up, he stumbled towards the door and peeked through the spyhole. All he could see was red.
He blinked his eyes tighter, then opened them wide as he moved away from the door, deciding whether to open it or not.
Someone knocked harder on the door again and, with anger rising in his gut, Ashe retrieved his baseball bat from the bedroom. He came charging back and yanked the door open with force.
‘You’ve got a death wish, mate!’
He blinked harder as his vision tunnelled.
The neighbour he’d been expecting was replaced with a young woman, around his age with flowing red hair and piercing green eyes.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said. ‘What are you after this time?’ He stood aside and let her in. He looked her up and down before closing the door after her. ‘I’m out of cash, so if you want paying like last time, I’ll have to owe you,’ he sniggered childishly. ‘You can tie me up this time, if you want.’
The dog snarled at her as she moved to the middle of the living room.
‘Quiet, Clyde. You know she’s dope.’
She eyed the dog with defiance, staring into his eyes, which provoked him further. He barked, splattering more drool on the floor. He looked ready to attack her.
She felt the knife against her leg inside her jeans pocket. She squatted down to the dog’s level. She smiled as she outstretched one arm, beckoning him towards her.
A concerned look flashed across Ashe’s face. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t do that, he’s pretty hyper right now.’
His words were sluggish, which meant the timing couldn’t be more perfect for her. ‘You saw me the other day, didn’t you.’ It was a statement rather than a question. ‘You overheard what you shouldn’t have.’ she said, turning her head to glance at him over her shoulder. ‘That’s your problem, isn’t it? Always listening behind doors, lurking in shadows…’
Ashe tried to remain poker-faced.
The dog snarled again. ‘You should go,’ Ashe said at length.
‘But I’ve not stroked Clydie-baby yet,’ she said, returning her attention to the dog. The knife seemed to burn through the fabric of her jeans, right through to her skin. ‘Come on, Clydie-baby… I’ve brought you a treat.’
Stokebrook Secure Hospital NHS Trust, Buckinghamshire 2011
Amelia stared down at the identification tag fastened loosely around her wrist. She looked around the room that had been her prison for the past three years and longed for the pain and the charade to end.
Stokebrook Secure Hospital is a high security psychiatric hospital in the Buckinghamshire countryside. It houses two hundred patients who have been detained under the Mental Health Act 1983 for mental illness, severe mental impairment or psychopathic personality disorders.
Amelia Williams fell into the latter category and was housed in the Dangerous and Severe Personality Disorder Unit (DSPD). This is the second hospital of its nature in England alongside Rampton Secure Hospital in Nottinghamshire.
Three years ago, Amelia had attempted to murder a man who she claimed had tried to rape her. She’d been found unfit to plead in a trial and had been placed at Stokebrook for her own safety and that of the general public.
It’d been little consolation to Amelia that she’d escaped trial and a prison sentence. She’d pulled off the perfect act, making doctors and psychiatrists believe she had a personality disorder and was therefore not aware or responsible for her actions.
In reality Amelia had always known exactly what she was doing. She just didn’t care that she enjoyed her thirst for violence.
But being in Stokebrook hadn’t been plain sailing like she’d envisaged. Locked up with others like her in nature (or worse) and having to maintain her act was starting to take its toll.
Amelia was tired.
And restless.
Every time she closed her eyes she could still see the images of the past. A bloody staircase. A broken body at the bottom, close to death.
She’d heard the screams many times in her head, night after night, relentless. Sometimes she thought back and wondered whether she’d done the right thing in keeping quiet about what had happened. Then she’d think about her long-term plans, once she was out of here. She’d been right then and was right now. Hers and God’s revenge would be sweet.
She’d used her time wisely.
And now she wanted out.
She looked at the woman opposite her. Volunteer Melanie Steward, who had been talking away while Amelia had pretended to listen, was now smiling at her.
Stokebrook had a patient befriending scheme that had worked to Amelia’s advantage. Volunteers under the scheme were allowed to visit patients who otherwise had no contact with the outside world. Trained and given a thorough Criminal Record Bureau check, they were then closely matched with a patient.
Rules were strict and volunteers were warned about the potential to be taken in by the manipulative nature of some patients.
Melanie Steward had already fallen at that first hurdle two years ago, although she didn’t know it yet.
‘Am I boring you?’ Mel said.
Amelia looked away. ‘Did you bring it?’
Mel’s hands twitched nervously. ‘Is that all you wanted? I thought you liked my company?’
Amelia tried to sound convincing. ‘I do but I hoped you’d help me.’
‘And I said I would, whatever you want, no matter if it’s against the rules.’ Mel’s hand swept across the bed and clasped Amelia’s. ‘I never thought that meeting you would make me feel this way… I’m breaking all the rules, Amelia. You helped me realise what I’ve always wanted.’
Amelia looked away. Mel blushed, believing Amelia’s gesture was out of modesty at knowing the love Mel held towards her.
The reality was much darker.
Amelia was repulsed by her.
After the first few visits from Mel, Amelia knew the woman was a homosexual. A fact that had at first seemed to be a setback had presented itself as another opportunity.
No stranger to being intimate with women, Amelia had played Mel like a pro.
A few well-planned questions and the chance to move physically closer to Mel had told Amelia all she needed. Melanie Steward was trapped in a loveless marriage with a man
