Catherine

by A J Hollingsworth

  Her eyes had just begun to close, heavy with tiredness and stress, when she was startled by a knock on the door of her dorm room. She sat upright in her bed, with the bed covers dropping away from her naked breasts. She paused, suspecting it was her father who had returned to check on her. She was happy to pretend to be asleep and thought he may leave her alone. She was wrong and soon a second knocked followed. She waited.

  'Daisy,' a familiar voice whispered, barely audible through her door.

  Why would he, of all people, be knocking at her door? It wasn't her father and apart from a pair of male boxer shorts, she liked to sleep in, she was fully naked. 'Just a second,' she called back as another knock at the door was heard. Jumping out of bed she slipped into a baggy t-shirt and threw her dressing gown around herself before tying it in the middle and walked towards her room door. 'Mark what are you doing here?' she quizzed in a matter of fact way.

  'I came to say hi and bring you a present,' he stated holding a bottle of chardonnay in his left hand.

  'It has been a long time since you have bought me wine and you haven't said a word to me in the last two months. What are you really doing her Mark?' she said losing her patience with him.

  Mark gave a painful smile with water clouding over his eyes. He looked at Daisy with sorrow, 'I need somebody to talk to. I know I haven't been fair with you in the past and if you want me to leave I will. I could really just use a friend at the moment.'

  She didn't want to give in, he vanished after he went off with Catherine, all communications stopped. She didn't want to but then looking at him standing there, pathetic and full of pain, she couldn't resist. She stepped back clearing the doorway and watched him dragging himself as he passed. He walked over to her desk and pulled out a corkscrew from the top drawer, placing the bottle of wine on the top of the desk before removing the cork and pouring two full glasses.

  'Nice choice of movie,' he commented as he perched himself down on the bed. She joined him without a word. Detective John McClane was just killing Tony as he takes on a small group of robbers with machine guns in 'Die Hard'. Daisy had a huge passion for classic action films, with her almost two-hundred strong DVD collection including 'The Terminator' and 'First Blood'.

  Ten minutes later and Daisy found herself shuffling closer to Mark, she was dying inside being close to him again. Partly filled with anger and partly filled with sympathy, she couldn't bring herself to say what she would have liked.

  'How are you doing?' she asked in a low tone.

  'I'm OK, you?' hr fired the question back.

  'I've had better days,' she replied looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the television screen and his hands so tightly gripping the wine glass, turning his fingertips white. Silence quickly followed. Mark would talk when he was ready, thought Daisy, unsure whether she should be trying to push him to open up.

  Another glass of wine and ten minutes remaining of the movie, Mark turned towards Daisy. 'I don't believe you would kill Catherine!'

  'Why did you tell the police I did then?' snarled Daisy back.

  'I didn't,' Mark lied.

  'They had the letters Mark. Who else would have given them to the police?' she asked. She was curious if she could land a slam across his face from where she was sat.

  'OK, OK!' Mark defending himself sensing the tone of Daisy's voice. 'I panicked. They were asking a load of questions that I didn't know the answers to. I told them about your letters to get them to stop.'

  Whack made the sound of Daisy's wide open palm across the cheek of Mark, causing small globals of saliva to be excelled from his mouth. 'You son of a bitch. You couldn't answer their questions, so that meant I was guilty instead?'

  'No,' said Mark sitting upright. 'It was the first thing that came to my mind, he continued with his arms open, pleading to her sympathetic side.

  Daisy stood up from the bed, crossing her arms in the process. She looked mad and she was, absolutely fuming at him in fact. She had spent the day being harassed by the police, tormented by her father and now playing agony aunt to her ex-boyfriend.

  It was Saturday, it was her day to watch soppy romantic films with bad acting, yet still able to make her cry. To binge on chocolate, crisps and popcorn. Then to finish the day with a couple more glasses of wine and to fall asleep with the television still on.

  Mark, left in silence for over a minute, closed his arms in defeat and stood up. 'I am really sorry Daisy, but I guess this was a bad idea.' He started to put his denim jacket on and walked towards the door. 'I am sorry Daisy,' he said to her back. She had watched him walk past, but refused to turn her head. 'Catherine and I were a mistake. I realised that the minute I lost you.'

  'You didn't lose me, you chose to me Mark. That hurt. It still does. That is why I'm angry. Today, if I was in your shoes, I would have probably done the same.'

  'Thank you. It was never great with Catherine. It was always great with you. I know you remember the fun we used to have.'

  'Lightwater Valley does still make me chuckle.'

  Daisy couldn't help but let a little chuckle slip now and soon after Mark copied. The previous tension began to dissipate now and she lowered her shoulder's.

  'I didn't believe anyone could vomit that much,' she declared, still chuckling.

  'It wasn't my fault. It had been your idea to eat before we went on the roller-coaster. I was so full of sugar and fizzy pop, it was inevitable, it was inevitable it would come back up once it had been mixed around.'

  The pairs laughter had increased in velocity and volume, reminiscent of their days together as a couple. Daisy had turned to face Mark, as he stood there with the door ajar.

  'You can close the door, if you want to,' stated Daisy moving over towards Mark. He closed the door and moved closer towards her. Standing just inches apart they looked into one another's eyes and for that moment old feelings monsoon over them both.

  He raised his hand in front of her, inviting her to join her own hand with his. She took a long sigh before accepting his invitation. The pair smiled softly at each other for a second before he scooped his arm around her back and pulling her close to him, he could feel her heart against his chest. Her breathing now slowed and was drawn deep inside her.

  Her fingers, intertwined with his, tightened their grip. The two of them lent forward and allowed their lips to meet. A gentle smooch of the lips to begin and then both pulled backwards, still linked by their fingers. She looked up into his eyes and he glanced at hers. The pair both smiling moved back close to one another and the desire was too much to hide. Within minutes the pair were naked and rolling under the covers like ravenous beasts destroying their pray, the noises coming out matched the same activity.

  Chapter 22

  'Morning Beth,' Nathan said sweetly at his favourite student.

  'Hi Nath,' she replied cheekily, tilting her head to one side as she smiled at him. The infatuation from that very first lecture had grown into something much more within the last three months. Whether Nathan was prepared for that, she no longer cared and against the advice of her best friend, Samantha, she had set her sights on him.

  Nathan, still fresh in his first year of teaching, was unsure what to make of Beth's casual tone to him. He opted to smile, 'is there anything you struggling with?' he asked.

  'The latest assignment you have given us. I have a few questions, that's all,' she replied sweetly.

  'Sure. So, do you mind walking and talking at the same time? I need some caffeine.'

  'That's fine, I could always do with a cup myself.'

  The Miller Building was located on the eastern side of the main campus and it was only a short walk from the lecture hall to the main canteen. He was craving a double shot of espresso with a very meagre offering of milk in the top, maybe with a greasy bacon and egg sandwich on the side.

  'What is it you wanted to ask me?'

  'I suppose I just want your help with my subject choice.'

  'That's fine Beth. What have you picked?'
>
  'Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte.'

  Nathan agreed with her choice, not just agreed in fact, was very impressed. It did all depend on how she put forward her arguments now. The title of the assignment was, 'The changing face of love. Discuss.' He loved setting that assignment for his students, it demonstrated their character and some of the responses were definitely enlightening for him. He smiled at her acknowledging his admiration in her choice, 'what is your argument?'

  'The novel epitomises the subject title. The friendship of Heathcliffe and Catherine as children and then through into adulthood. The innocence of childhood, turning into jealousy of been socially excluded and then love when Heathcliffe returns a wealthy man and then the consumption of love and the tragic ending. Emily Bronte captured all the emotions that love can chisel into your heart and then soiled out in to a disorientated reality.'

  'I'm impressed Beth, such a mature argument from one who has probably never experienced love in its truest form.'

  Beth tapped Nathan across the arm, 'I am more mature than you give me credit and believe me I have known my fair share of heartache.'

  'As pretty as you are Beth, I have no doubt of that.

  Chapter 23

  Fulford Road Police Station was an hub of activity as Rachel and Logan marched through the front entrance. Ian Hart was busy taking over from the on-duty night custody sergeant, but still had time to give Rachel a nod as she went by, she acknowledged with a smile in his direction. She had a soft spot for Ian, he would always be helpful to her and point her in the right direction. She referred to him as her work-father.

  They continued to make there way to the forensic offices at the back of the police station. Barely just past eight in the morning and with her oversleeping and missing the time to consume her morning dose of caffeine, she compulsively let out a large loud yawn.

  'Tired are we this morning?' asked Logan, not at all genuinely, preferring a much more sarcastic tone.

  'Missed my morning coffee, that's all!' she said seconds before remembering that there was a coffee vending machine outside the forensics laboratories. 'I'll grab a cheap cup before we have a chat with the digital equipment team.'

  She couldn't take her mind off Nathan as her and Logan walked down the endless maze of corridors at the police station. He had been up earlier than her this morning and had gone for an early morning run. To some extent she blamed him for her being up late this morning, he had returned fifteen minutes before she needed to leave. She was still in bed. Her hair was crunched up in an hair band, her face had a splatter of foundation and her outfit was the first respectable trouser suit she could grab out of her cluttered wardrobe.

  The pair reached the forensics laboratories to be met by Andrew Greaves, the extremely tall digital whiz kid. Rachel was wearing a pair of one inch heels, another wardrobe mishap but she could not find any other shoes to match her outfit, yet she was still left to tilt her head to look up at Andrew.

  'Morning Andrew,' Logan said as the pair entered through the door to the digital examination suite.

  'Hello, you two. The mobile phone,' he said pausing briefly. 'Nokia...no Samsung handset?'

  'Yes Andrew. That's right.'

  Andrew turned and walked away, leaving the two of them standing there waiting. The digital team were located in a separate office to the side of the main forensics department in a small laboratory. The desks had been laid out in a u-shape formation with a counter attached to the wall running behind them. The desks were full of various electrical wiring and a combination of laptops, desktop computer towers, tablets and mobile phones. The majority of them individual stored in evidence bags, scribbled on with case reference numbers.

  The counter at the back of the room was full of devices that had already been through various checks and investigations carried out on them. Andrew lifted up several mobile phones before reaching Catherine's. He lifted it up off the counter and handed it over to Rachel. She pushed her hand inside the plastic reinforced evidence bag and grabbed hold of the report that Andrew had compiled for her.

  She began reading through the overview page, raising her eyebrows as she went along, Logan scratching at the bit to find out more as he attempted to lean over her shoulder for a closer look, receiving a stern elbow in his chest before backing away to his original position.

  'Sorry Andrew, just to clarify, these messages are on that device?' she asked with concern.

  'Yes. They have been deleted very recently, but they have definitely been on that device.'

  'When were they deleted?'

  The exact details escaped him, he strolled across towards her and held her hand out, open wide asking Rachel for the report. She passed it over to him and he began flicking through the first couple of pages before he found it.

  'Here we are, it would have been Sunday.'

  'That was the day after Catherine's death.'

  'That would suggest somebody didn't want you to see the messages. The messages are transcribed on the next page.

  'I believe we need to have a long discussion with our friend Mr Mark Jacobs!' stated Rachel.

  Chapter 24

  Rachel was becoming hungry, she had skipped breakfast that morning, eager to find out what was on Catherine's phone. She knew Mark was covering something up, now she had to find out why he had lied about the affair, or at least his suspicions. She wanted to rush over and ask him straight away but her desire for food was greater and Logan had pushed for lunch first. She had contacted the University earlier in the morning and had been sent an email across containing Mark's schedule for the day. He was currently in a lecture on the political face of literature. She knew Nathan would be most likely teaching the lecture and therefore she could wait until it was over before marching in. She had already asked Nathan to keep an eye on Mark and let her know if he had been a no-show. She hadn't heard anything. He was attending the lecture.

  Fulford Road Police Station canteen was sufficient, perfectly edible food, no thrills and very traditional, but all the same, still edible. Standing in the cue looking at the menu, the steak and ale pie with chips and a choice of mushy or garden peas appeared the best choice for her. She smiled at the server and asked for a larger portion of mushy peas and an extra dollop of gravy. She was always overly polite with the servers at the canteen and Maureen who was on duty obliged Rachel's request. Logan opted for the spaghetti bolognese and would proceed to slap his lips together as he slurped each strand through his lips. It irritated her, but then majority of Logan's actions did.

  Lunch purchased, Rachel led the way to a unoccupied table against the row of windows overlooking the rear yard of the police station. It was not a picturesque view at all. No sweeping countryside or deep running valleys or golden beaches. She longed to be laid on a sun lounger somewhere exotic with Nathan at the side of her, but for now she had the view of a six-foot tall red brick wall, lined on top with a roll of barbed wire and a collection of three workshops for valeting and servicing the police vehicles that were scattered in front in the car-park. The grey clouds above that promised heavy showers latter added to dissatisfaction of looking through the window, but the only other option was to sit in the middle of the canteen with the artificial lighting that was too bright and her chair been nudged as her colleagues pushed around.

  She was not in the best of moods. The anniversary weekend, that should have been romantic and memorable was interrupted by the murder of Catherine. She felt guilty thinking about herself and would have never chosen any other option even if provided with one, but the thought still went through her of if only Catherine had been murdered after the weekend. She chuckled to herself inside, real life rarely went to plan or schedule. She would just have to accept the inconvenience and move on, maybe if she could put this case to rest soon she could schedule a weekend away with Nathan soon.

  'Is Nathan at work today Rach?' asked Tanya as she walked past Rachel on her way to her usual order of a plain cheese sandwich and a small green salad on the s
ide.

  'Yes, back to normality. If you can call it that! Once you've ordered come and sit with us, we can have a catch up.'

  'It's OK Rach, don't want to intrude.'

  'Don't be daft, Logan doesn't mind, do you?' she asked him with a glare.

  'Doesn't look like I have a choice really.' Rachel coughed disapprovingly. 'Of course not PC Scott. Please join us.'

  Tanya knew Logan was been sarcastic but enjoyed tormenting him anyway, 'GREAT! I'll just be a couple of minutes.'

  Tanya walked away and Logan immediately glared at Rachel. 'You can look at me like that all day,' she replied to him. 'Tanya is a friend and sometimes better company than you are!'

  'If you insist, I suppose I have no choice, do I?'

  'Get over yourself Logan,' she said firmly. 'You are right though, you don't have a choice,' she added chuckling slightly.

  He remained quiet, he wasn't in the mood for an argument, both had been working all weekend and now they were pushing into probably a full week of work. Overtime wasn't something you could opt out of when working a murder case. Every detective accepted it from their first day of their first case, but accepting it wasn't the same as being happy about it. Tanya returned with her lunch and caught Logan on the shoulder as she took the seat next to him. There was a spare seat next to Rachel but he knew she would have sat next to him just to annoy him. He now had thirty minutes of girly gossip to listen to without an easy escape route.

  'Your weekend was a wash out then Rach?'

  'Not the anniversary weekend we had planned Tan. I'm thinking of treating Nathan though with a weekend away, probably couple of weeks though.'

  'Cotswolds Rach. Ben took me two years ago. Little log cabin in the middle of the forest. Log burning stove, wooden veranda and hot-tub sat right on it. It was fantastic, laid back in the bubbles with a glass of champagne in one hand and listening to the birds tweeting around us, we even saw a squirrel scurry up one of the trees.'