“Is that the nice estate agent who helped you out yesterday?”
He went through the pantomime of turning back to look through the window. “Oh, was it the same woman? I didn’t notice?”
“Were you popping back to see her?”
“Actually, it was you. I was trying to find out your address.”
“But Helena told me she’d meet me here.”
“Helena?” he appeared genuinely confused.
“No, Helena didn’t send me.”
*
It was busy inside the coffee shop so I queued up while Marcus went and found us a table. I could see him sitting in an oversized leather armchair, a monarch surveying his kingdom. He was quite happy to let me go and get the drinks, genuinely pleased that Helena hadn’t turned up and he had me to himself.
Normally, I would have been pleased to see him, but now I was worried about Helena. I’d tried ringing her and texting her – both to no avail. I wouldn’t be happy until I’d spoken directly to her.
Lost in thought, I finally arrived at the front of the queue.
“Er, a cappuccino. Grande. Two brownies and … Have you got any tea.”
“Well, we do have a range of teas.” He indicated the board , “Earl Grey, Green Tea, Orange and Lotus Flower?”
“I can safely say that he wouldn’t enjoy any of those. Have you got any Builder’s Tea?”
*
Marcus and I chatted good naturedly for a while with him initially resisting the brownie that I’d bought him. He only agreed to eat it when I told him that if he didn’t I’d have to eat it and that would make me fat.
“So,” I said. “What were you planning on doing once you’d gotten my address?”
“Honestly, I was planning on getting you a house warming present. Wasn’t expecting to bump into you quite so soon. Thought I might pop it round. You said you didn’t know anyone in the area.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” I said. “And what were you planning on buying me exactly?”
It was his turn to look embarrassed. “I don’t know. A house plant? Some flowers maybe?”
I wasn’t sure why I was teasing him so much. It really would have been a nice gesture if I hadn’t ruined everything by cross-examining him. You can be too clever.
“And once you’d turned up on my door-step unannounced what was the plan then?”
“Really, I was just trying to be friendly. Offer to buy you lunch or something? I know what it’s like when you move flats. You don’t have time to cook so you spend the first week living on take-aways.”
“That’s very kind of you. Really. I was just a bit thrown. I was expecting Helena.”
He indicated my phone, “Still no word?”
“Nothing. It’s all very odd. I thought she might text me at the very least.”
“If she can.”
“No one’s that busy. It’s not like she just disappeared off the face of the earth.
After the meeting last night we had a number of leads. The plan was that we’d follow them up today. I’m worried that she’s gone off on her own and something’s happened.”
“What about this person you met last night. Is it worth contacting them?”
“I don’t have their number.”
*
Marcus drove me to my flat in the Range Rover. I was desperate to invite him in but, at the same time, was aware of how awkward it might be. Forgetting about my dad there was also Millie and her parents. Plus there was all my personal stuff strewn about the place and I didn’t want him getting the wrong idea.
In the end he didn’t ask to come in. He didn’t even try to find a parking space. He dropped me off in the road
I waved as he drove off but I don’t think he could have seen me.
Even before I’d gotten into my flat I was angry at myself for not arranging to meet up later. He probably felt just as lonely as I did living in London – lonelier. At least I had Millie. An image came to mind of the pair of us lying in bed together, my arms wrapped around him. It was a lovely image. It showed that I was thinking beyond the first rush of a new relationship. Its vivid nature surprised me. Certainly I liked him a lot which should, at least, count for something.
The flat was still very cluttered and, looking around it seemed as if the bulk of the stuff was all mine. Millie appeared from the kitchen holding a guitar.
I went over and gave her a hug.
“Excited?” I said.
“Very! Your dad’s just popped down to the shops. He’s trying to sort the T.V. out but he needs a part.”
“Have you got a T.V. then?”
“No. It must be yours.”
This was news to me.
“What about your mum and dad,” I asked. “They still here?”
“They couldn’t get parked. Seems that there’s a sports centre nearby but they couldn’t carry all my things over. In the end, they just had to dump everything on the pavement. Your dad gave me a hand.”
“He can be useful at times.”
We stood and surveyed the room.
Millie said, “Now all I’ve got to do is sort out where to put everything.”
I felt an instant pang of guilt. “I’ve got so much stuff I don’t know where to start.”
I’d forgotten just how much I’d been keeping at my dad’s house. Almost half of the boxes were from home, sealed with my dad’s special yellow tape. The thing was: what on earth did they have inside them? I’d been in London for nearly a year now and couldn’t remember one occasion when I’d needed any of the items I’d left behind.
Apart from my books of course. Hardly a day had gone by when I hadn’t thought about a spell or a bit of information that was secreted away in one of my books.
I was looking forward to re-acquainting myself with them in the following few weeks. You’ve got to love books if you’re going to be successful at witchcraft. Some people disagree but I think that witches are just like chefs – you can only take yourself so far through experimentation – you need books to make yourself aware of what else is out there.
It was a real temptation to start unpacking the books straightaway but the problem was that I had nowhere to put them. I’d had a rickety set of metal shelves in my last place but I’d purposefully left them there. Now I’d need to get a replacement.
But I couldn’t even think about new shelves when my clothes were strewn all over the living room.
“How did it go last night?” I asked.
Millie shook her head. “We were meant to meet up to get something to eat but everyone was delayed because of the explosion. In the end we went straight to the cocktail bar. Bad idea. We were all wrecked by nine o’clock.”
“Explosion?”
“Yeah, haven’t you seen the news? Someone blew up a Range Rover on Tufnell Park Road. Traffic was at a standstill nearly all night.”
It all came back to me then.
“Enough about me,” she said. “What happened with Helena?”
I pulled a face. “Quite complicated. She’s not the easiest person to work with.”
“Tell me about it. But everything’s fine? I mean: you haven’t been sacked or anything?”
I checked that we were alone in the flat and still lowered my voice. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but last night she took me to meet this werewolf friend of hers.”
“Are you serious?”
“And, not only that but I’m pretty sure they used to be an item.”
Millie’s mouth dropped open. “Helena had a thing with a werewolf!”
“She was a bit cagey but I think so, yes.”
“And what was he like?” Millie flared her nostrils. “I mean: was he nice.”
I had to laugh. “Yes, he was very nice. Just a bit… bonkers.”
I’d started picking up bin-bags full of clothes when my phone rang.
“Bronte?”
“Silas?”
“The very same,” he sounded angry. “Is Helena with you?”
I dropped the bags and moved towards my bedroom. “No. I haven’t seen her all morning.”
“I have some information for her,” his voice sounded even deeper on the phone. “But she’s not answering her phone.”
I decided to be honest with him.
“We’d arranged to meet up this morning,” I continued. “But she didn’t show up.”
“Okay. I’ll look into it.”
“By the way, how did you get…”But by that point he’d already hung up.
Millie was standing in the doorway when I looked up.
“Was that him?” she wanted to know. “The werewolf guy?”
I let out a long sigh. I was frightened.
Chapter 12
I’d calmed down by the time my dad came back and helped Millie to rustle up some lunch. Spaghetti bolognaise with extra parmesan.
I’d talked to Millie about ringing the office and letting them know about my concerns but she’d dissuaded me. I had no reason to think that Helena was in any real danger. In fact, I had no idea where she was. She could be at home nursing a hang-over for all I knew. Millie seemed to think that she would re-appear at some point. In the meantime, all we could do was wait.
In an attempt to take my mind off it, I spent the rest of the afternoon hanging curtains. I’d had them made specially and, although I knew that it was going to be a difficult job, I desperately wanted them up before dark. I worked with the radio on. The main news story was about the explosion yesterday and how it was being linked to the fact that the terrorist threat level had been raised to Severe. The people killed in the blast had been two architects and their apprentice. It was tempting to go along with the bomb theory as, that way, I’d be able to distance myself from the incident. Put it all down to some terrible coincidence.
But that didn’t tally with the events as I remembered them. Just before the explosion I recalled something flying low over our heads and I was starting to think that the two things were related. We had been targeted.
How had I managed to get myself embroiled in all this? Forty eight hours earlier I had been working in the library. And now this!
The conversation with Silas had unnerved me. He didn’t strike me as the sort to panic easily. Now all I needed was to talk to Helena. Wanted everything to be resolved between us so that we could just get on with solving the case. The more I thought about it, the more obviously Silas was implicated. Despite his apparent transparency last night, there was still an awful lot he wasn’t telling us. Was it possible that he’d been involved in Brodsky’s murder? After what I’d seen him do to those two men on the common, anything was possible.
I decided to stop trying to ring Helena after lunch. I had to assume that she was alright and, if she was going to get back in contact I didn’t want her looking at her phone and seeing twenty missed calls all from me. I had to trust that she knew what she was doing and that, at some point, she’d make the effort to contact me.
I looked at the curtains I’d just spent the last hour and a half hanging up and felt like tearing them down again. I just couldn’t get them to hang straight.
Why didn’t she ring?
There was a knock at the door and Millie appeared.
I indicated the curtains. “What do you think?”
She looked at them without seeing them.
“Just had a call from work,” her voice was flat. Not like Millie at all.
“Is it Helena?”
“Helena’s in hospital. She’s been stabbed.”
“Is she alright?” I said, instantly aware of how stupid that sounded.
“They don’t know yet. That was Kinsella on the phone. They’re operating on her as we speak.”
We stood there in silence. I could hear traffic noises from the far end of the street.
“Kinsella’s at the scene, you know, kicking arses and taking names. I think he said Trafalgar Square but I could be making that bit up. He wanted a sympathetic female face down at the hospital and thought of me. Must have seen us together once and pegged us as the best of friends. Not that any of that matters now.”
My thoughts were racing. Why hadn’t I anticipated this? Could Silas, or one of his minions, have been involved? “Are you sure it’s a stabbing?”
“They’re not sure of anything yet. All I know is that two people were stabbed: Helena and some bloke, no idea who he was. Could be her boyfriend. Kinsella said something about the Tube.”
Millie walked back into the living room, started pulling at a laundry basket full of clothes.
“She was on the Tube when it happened?” I said.
“No, I think they were at a Tube station. Charing Cross? It might have something to do with this guy she was with, might not. He could even be the one who attacked her. No point jumping to conclusions.”
“So we don’t have a name for this guy, yet?”
“No. Could be anyone for all we know.”
“So what’s happening now?”
Millie was kicking off her slippers and pulling on a skirt. “I’m getting a cab over to the hospital. University College. I’m to make sure that no one speaks to her before Kinsella arrives, not even the police. And that’s it.”
She was moving around the room, searching under things. “You haven’t seen my handbag have you?”
I helped her look for it
I wasn’t surprised that Kinsella hadn’t contacted me. I wasn’t even an official member of his team so he wouldn’t have access to my personal number. Helena hadn’t even told him that we were going to the Common so chances were that he had no idea of my involvement. It had all been on Helena’s say-so and with her out of the picture it might just as well have never happened. Why had she gone into this on her own? Was she trying to claim all the glory for herself?
I pulled myself up short. What was I thinking? Helena was in a hospital bed and here I was questioning her motives. What if Helena had decided not to take me with her that morning because she knew how dangerous it might prove? I might be the one lying in a hospital bed right now. I had to see her.
I went and got my good coat from the bedroom and started pulling on my trainers.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m coming with you.”
*
The cab dropped us at the back of the hospital so we had a fair way to walk to get round to the entrance. The hospital looked like a new-build, certainly no more than a few years old, in fact, judging by the proliferation of cranes around the back some sections looked to still be under construction. The reception area wouldn’t have looked out of place in one of the city’s office blocks, lots of frosted glass and down-lighting. It didn’t even smell like a hospital. It smelled of fresh coffee
I found out which ward Helena was on. The receptionist didn’t react when I gave her the name so it looked likely that the police hadn’t gotten involved yet. That would change. I followed the signs to the ward. There were a lot of pregnant women milling around so I assumed that they had their own maternity unit. I exchanged looks with Millie. Not good if things started getting out of hand.
The signs took me all the way to the lifts over in the north eastern corner. Two sets of orderlies were already waiting. One set had a bed, the other a patient in a wheelchair.
“Stairs?” I said.
Millie rolled her eyes but followed anyway.
Helena’s ward was situated on the third floor.
I negotiated the stairs without too much difficulty quietly pleased that I’d worn my trainers. Millie, wearing heels, was panting by the time we reached the second floor. I had to keep stopping for her.
When we arrived at the ward our way was barred by a formidable security door. We had to press a buzzer to alert the staff inside. I gave Helena’s name and expected them to quiz us about our relationship to the patient but, instead, they simply buzzed us through without a word. Secure but not that secure.
As we entered we were confronted by two large white-boards. I had expected to see He
lena’s name written up somewhere but I was out of luck: the boards were covered by initials and cryptic notes. To the left of this was a cluttered nurse’s station and currently the nurse in attendance was busy with various stickers stuck to the end of her fingers.
“With you in a moment.”
We were in the middle of a long corridor which gave access on the southern side to six sub-wards each with four beds each. The northern side consisted of smaller, private rooms all with their own soft wood doors.
Eventually, the nurse was finished and waved us over.
“Helena Lawson,” I said. “She was admitted this afternoon.”
There was a flash of recognition on the woman’s face. “Okay,” she said, coming out to talk to us. “She’s just come up from surgery. Are you family?”
I thought about lying and then shook my head, “Friends. From work.”
“Then I’m sorry. She’s not going to be having any visitors until after the week-end.”
“Is she conscious?” Millie asked. “I mean, how serious is it?”
“She’s lost a lot of blood which was our first concern,” she stepped past me getting ready to show us out. “Multiple stab wounds to the abdomen and head trauma which we’re monitoring.”
“We need to speak to her.”
“Like I said, she’s just come out of theatre so she won’t be conscious for a good couple of hours yet. If you’ve got cards I can take them but we’re not allowed to accept gifts or flowers …”
Millie moved towards her, her hands moving deftly, as though she were winding wool.
“It’s alright,” she looked at the woman’s name tag. “Liv is it? I think I can explain. You remember my name, of course.”
The woman looked flustered, “Oh sorry, er …”
She was mentally searching for Millie’s name and coming up blank. “I didn’t recognise you for a second.”
“Perfectly understandable. But who are we?”
“You’re the two foreign exchange doctors. From Israel.”
“That’s right,” she held her hands up as though framing the moment. “But you can call us Millie and Bronte.”
Urban Witch Page 11
