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The Twelve Murders of Christmas (Quigg 1)

Page 12

by Tim Ellis


  It was good. He could feel himself uncoiling.

  ‘Take off your jumper and shirt.’

  He could have objected, moved away, urged her to get the food out of the oven, but he didn’t. Instead, he peeled his jumper and shirt off like snake shedding skin. When he went to sit back down on the sofa she shook her head, took his hand and led him into the bedroom.

  ‘Lie face down.’

  He did. He could have asked why? Explained that he was hungry, thirsty, needed the toilet, but he didn’t. He castigated himself for being so weak.

  She sat astride him and perched on his backside. ‘I bought this especially today.’

  He craned his neck.

  ‘It’s called kukui nut oil and it’s from Hawaii.’

  She began kneading his neck, his shoulders, and his back. Among many urges, the urge to sleep was the strongest.

  ‘Turn over.’

  Oh God! He realised she did have symmetrical breasts. While he’d been lying on his front, she’d taken her top and bra off. His hands drifted upwards of their own accord, but she slapped them back down.

  ‘Not yet, I haven’t finished your full body massage.’

  His full body massage lasted another ten minutes. He reciprocated, and then they made love, which lasted three quarters of an hour. After showering together and losing the soap three times, he finally got to eat the steak, potatoes and peas she’d prepared for him, and drink the Guinness that now had no frothy head. They sat cross-legged on the bed with trays hiding the vegetables.

  ‘Are you glad you rang me?’

  ‘Am I!’

  ‘Are we a couple now?’

  ‘Are we!’

  ‘Like you Quigg, but I don’t like calling you Quigg.’

  ‘That’s all there is, sorry. Maybe in twenty year’s time when we’re old and wrinkly I’ll whisper it to you in the darkness.’

  ‘Is it that bad?’

  ‘Worse.’

  ‘What now?’

  ‘More sex?’

  ‘After that, where do we go from here?’

  ‘Where do you want to go?’

  ‘I had an orang-utan once that used to answer a question with a question.'

  ‘Us orang-utan’s do that, you know.’ He mimicked being an orang-utan of sorts, and tickled her until they looked into each other’s eyes. They kissed and made love as if there was no tomorrow.

  Later, in the darkness he said, ‘I really like you Marion the Masseuse.’

  She laughed. ‘What?’

  He told her the thoughts that had been running through his head since that night.

  ‘I really like you, Quigg.’ She cuddled closer to him, if that were possible, and they fell asleep as one.

  ***

  Saturday, 2nd January

  He felt like a pig, but he had to know. He caught the tube from Upton Park to West Brompton on the District Line again. There were a couple of stops in it, but nothing to sway him from one woman to the other.

  He hated these first meetings. At the ripe old age of thirty-six he should be sat in a chair with a retractable footrest, slippers, and a cardigan watching the X Factor or something just as meaningless. Instead, here he was, on his second date in as many nights.

  ‘Did you bring the condoms?’ was Edie Golden’s opening gambit.

  He patted his duffel coat pocket in reply.

  ‘I suppose you want to have sex with me now?’

  He was beginning to regret coming. ‘I have no expectations. I brought the condoms because you asked me to, but if sex isn’t on the menu that’s fine.’

  ‘Okay, let’s eat first.’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’

  ‘You okay with vegetarian?’

  ‘I suppose, never had it before.’

  ‘I’ve made wild mushroom and chestnut cottage pie with potatoes and carrots.’

  ‘Sounds wonderful.’

  She stared at him. ‘You’re not being funny are you?’

  ‘No, I’m being me. What’s wrong, don’t you want me here? I can go if you want?’

  ‘Sorry, I’m just nervous. This is my first date in three years, the last guy used to beat me, and I said never again.’

  ‘Well look, Edie, I’ll never hit you. If you hadn’t noticed, I’m an all-round nice guy. Whatever makes you comfortable makes me happy, so if you want to take things slow I’m fine with that.’

  ‘Okay, let’s eat, and we’ll go from there.’

  They ate and talked warming to each other as they went. Afterwards they kissed, and what started as a slow burn built into an erupting volcano.

  Edie ripped his clothes off, and when he mentioned the condoms she ignored him. They had sex on the floor, the coffee table, in the shower, and after a break for coffee and biscuits, in the hallway leading to the bedroom.

  Edie had a waterbed and he felt queasy.

  ‘If you keep moving I’ll be sick,’ he said.

  ‘You’ll get used to it.’

  ‘Maybe you should get me a bucket just in case.’

  ‘You won’t hurt me will you, Quigg?’

  On the outside Edie Golden was as hard as granite, but inside – where it really mattered – she was a crumpled flower. The question took him by surprise. How could he possible compare Marion and Edie, they were complete opposites? How could he choose between them? Even now, if he made a choice, one of them would be hurt. No, he couldn’t choose. His choice was to keep seeing both of them, and he knew that life was going to get very complicated.

  ‘No, I won’t hurt you, Edie Golden.’

  She held onto him as if she was slipping over a precipice, and they slept.

  ***

  Monday, 4th January

  ‘You’re an idiot, Sir.’

  ‘That’s hardly the way to greet your new boss, Sergeant Begone.’

  ‘You’re seeing both of them, aren’t you?’

  ‘How...?’

  ‘A woman knows.’

  ‘Well, as I’ve said to you on a number of occasions, my private life is not up for discussion.’

  ‘Until you want my advice.’

  ‘Which hopefully won’t be for some time.’

  She shook her head. ‘Where do you want me to sit?’

  He hadn’t given it much thought.

  ‘Quigg?’ the Chief bawled down the corridor.

  He walked to the Chief’s office.

  ‘Morning Chief, welcome back.’

  ‘We’re going to start the New Year as we mean to go on, Quigg. There’s been a murder, and I want you and your new partner to investigate.’ He passed Quigg a piece of paper.

  ‘Charing Cross Hospital?’

  ‘Body parts have been found in the cellar.’

  ‘It’s a hospital.’

  ‘Exactly, body parts get incinerated or stored in formaldehyde, they don’t find their way into a locked room in a cellar.’

  ‘Quigg and Begone are onto it, Chief.’

  ‘That doesn’t really have a ring to it, Quigg.’

  ‘Oh well.’

  ####

  About the Author

  Tim Ellis was born in the bowels of Hammersmith Hospital, London, on a dark and stormy night, grew up in Cheadle, Cheshire, and now lives in Essex with his wife and five Shitzus. In-between, he joined the Royal Army Medical Corps at eighteen and completed twenty-two years service, leaving in 1993 having achieved the rank of Warrant Officer Class 1 (Regimental Sergeant Major). Since then he has worked in secondary education as a senior financial manager, in higher education as an associate lecturer/tutor at Lincoln and Anglia Ruskin Universities, and as a consultant for the National College of School Leadership. His final job, before retiring to write fiction full time in 2009, was as Head and teacher of Behavioural Sciences (Psychology/Sociology) in a secondary school. He has a PhD and an MBA in Educational Management, and an MA in Education.

  Discover other titles by Tim Ellis at http://timellis.weebly.com/

  Warrior

  (Genghis Khan)


  Path of Destiny

  Scourge of the Steppe

  The Knowledge of Time

  Second Civilisation

  Orc Quest

  Prophecy

  Adult Crime:

  Solomon’s Key

  Body 13

  The Graves at Angel Brook

  A Life for a Life

  Jacob’s Ladder

  The Wages of Sin

  The Flesh is Weak

  The Shadow of Death

  The Twelve Murders of Christmas

  His Wrath is Come

  The Graves Beneath Eternity Wharf

  Collected Short Stories/Poetry

  Untended Treasures

  Where do you want to go today?

  Winter of my Heart (Poetry)

  Also due out in 2012/13:

  As You Sow, So Shall You Reap (The Killing Sands Anthology)

  The Breath of Life (Parish & Richards 6)

  The Timekeeper's Apprentice

  Orc Quest (Book II): The Last Human

  Also, come and say hello on my FB Fanpage:

  http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Tim-Ellis/160147187372482

 

 

 


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