London Noir
by
Ann Girdharry
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without express written permission from the author.
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First published October 2017
All rights reserved
Copyright 2017 Ann Girdharry
For my sister Karen,
who forged good fortune against the odds
and found her own, well-deserved happiness
xx
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-one
A note from Ann Girdharry
Good Girl Bad Girl (Kal Medi #1)
Acknowledgements
Titles by Ann Girdharry
Chapter One
At Lilac Mansions
Sophie dipped her brush in water and then chose azure blue to finish the detail. Azure blue reminded her of summer days and sandy beaches. It also reminded Sophie of her mother, and, as usual, the thought brought a bitter taste to the back of her mouth. Sophie swallowed. Concentrating to stop the trembling in her fingers, with one, two, three strokes, she finished the butterfly wings. The makeup brush clattered onto the dresser. Sophie twisted towards the mirror and admired the trail of tiny, azure butterflies sweeping up over her shoulder. In the light of the bedroom lamp, the sequins of her silver dress reflected the blue of the butterflies’ open wings.
Sophie swept her clutch bag from the bed and placed inside it the syringe, then the perfume and pepper spray. The spray was a noxious mix, designed to blind the victim and, even better, make them writhe in agony. For that reason, Lady Penny insisted all the girls carried it. Lastly, Sophie picked up the flick knife and touched her finger to the razor-sharp edge. Sugar G had trained them – a strike to the eye, to the crease of the groin, or the stomach – all the soft parts of the body. Not all the girls carried a knife, and she was certain of those who did, none of them carried it to commit murder.
Chapter Two
Smack-smack. Smack-smack. The windscreen wipers struggled with the downpour, even on double speed.
Kal muttered to herself – ‘It’s supposed to be summer, not a bloody monsoon.’
She swerved to avoid a puddle the size of a small pond and an oncoming van blared its horn.
‘Get out of my way, moron,’ Kal shouted.
She thumped the steering wheel, then shook her head. Hey, calm down, this isn’t going to get you to the hospital any faster, not in one piece anyway.
For the past four months, Kal couldn’t get the machines out of her mind. Those blinking, bleeping machines were imprinted on the inside of her eyelids, and they sat alongside Marty’s bed constantly monitoring her heart rate and arterial oxygen levels. Kal visited the hospital four times a week and hadn’t let herself slack off, even if logic told her it would be reasonable. It was a question of loyalty and Kal felt such a fierce loyalty to her friend, that, missing even a single visit would’ve been like admitting she’d given up. That she’d given up on Marty. That she’d let Marty go. And that was out of the question. Another driver blared their horn and Kal jolted back to the present. Ever since the text message, her pulse had been racing. Marty was awake. She was out of the coma. Downpour or not, Kal had to get to her bedside. And get there now. At the next intersection, with the traffic lights in her favour, Kal took the corner at speed.
‘No!’
She slammed on the brake and the car skidded out of control. Please, no, don’t let me hit her. Don’t let me hit her. There was no traction, only slewing water. Time slowed and the back of the car swung in an arc. Straining, bent in two over the wheel, she tried to keep sight of the dark figure in her path. Every muscle in Kal’s body tensed. A soft thump against the bumper would spell disaster. When the side of the car slammed into the kerbside, Kal stared out at the darkness of what should have been a summer’s afternoon turned black with thunderstorm. She had to kick herself into action. Prise her own fingers from the steering wheel. Kal heard her own rapid breaths as she fumbled for the door latch.
Rain fell in a cascade. A figure hunched at the roadside, caught in Kal’s headlights. It was a young girl. Kal staggered and reached to steady herself on the car. She saw the girl was crouched on the edge of the pavement. Please let her have leapt back in time.
‘Hey – are you okay?’
The girl didn’t move.
‘Are you all right? Are you hurt?’
With no jacket and with blonde hair plastered to her head, the girl kept low, face buried in a turquoise scarf.
As Kal reached out, an instinct made her pull back her hand. ‘Did I hit you?’
The girl shook her head.
‘I’m so sorry, I couldn’t see a thing.’
The girl stayed tightly curled and Kal felt a warning in her gut. She stood perfectly still, standing in water rushing towards a drain, so deep it flowed over her shoes. Something was wrong. This wasn’t a child, the girl looked like a teenager, maybe older. So, if she wasn’t hurt, why hadn’t she looked up and started talking? Why was she still cowering? Kal softened her tone.
‘It’s all right, it really is. I lost control of the car. I didn’t hit you, did I?’
Kal zipped up her own jacket and wiped at the rain running down her face. ‘Are you okay? Can I help you?’ she said, and she held out her hand.
The girl glanced towards Kal’s face, her gaze not making it to Kal’s eyes.
‘Did I give you a fright?’ Kal said.
The girl nodded.
‘I’m really sorry.’
The girl sniffed. ‘I didn’t look where I was going.’ Her voice sounded frail.
Kal thought back – she’d seen a figure dashing ou
t at the last minute. The girl must have been running. ‘No, I’m the one to blame. In weather like this I should’ve been extra careful.’
The girl sniffed and rubbed the scarf across her nose.
‘Are you hurt?’
The girl shook her head.
Kal’s knees were sagging with relief and she leant back on the car. Whatever was wrong here, it wasn’t because the girl was injured, and from her lack of eye contact and her posture, Kal wondered if this girl might be someone with a disability, though that didn’t exactly fit the picture.
‘If you’re in a rush to get somewhere maybe you’ll let me give you a lift? My name’s Kal.’
The girl unbent a little, keeping her arms wrapped across her chest. No, Kal didn’t think this was someone with a disability, but this young girl had other problems in her life, that was certain. Kal could see it in the girl’s bowed back and in her expression.
‘Look we’re getting soaked, please let me offer you a ride.’
Was the girl in shock? Was she on drugs? The way the girl eyed Kal said it all. It also said she’d refuse any offer of help. Strange thing was, it made Kal even more determined to find a way to reach out. This girl was in trouble. There was no doubt about that.
‘What do you say? Shall we get out of the rain?’
Kal started moving back one slow step at a time and she realised she’d left the driver’s door wide open. Shit, the girl hadn’t been the only one terrified. Kal reached behind to open the passenger door and gave the girl a smile of encouragement. This was the moment of truth, when the girl would either trust Kal, which seemed highly unlikely, or do a runner.
Kal waited. She knew she couldn’t force someone to accept her help, even when their pain was so visible. What haunted this girl? What events ran deep to leave her with scars? Not physical scars, emotional ones – old scars of fear that must’ve been churned up by this narrow miss with the wrong end of a car, but then why had the girl been running? Kal didn’t like the desperation she could see in the girl’s face. She waited, listening to the rain splattering on the roof.
They both saw the lights of the other car at the same time. It cruised towards the intersection and the girl jumped up as if someone had given her an electric shock. She darted behind Kal and dived into the back seat. Slamming the door, Kal shelved her astonishment. Maybe she’d have a chance to do some good here after all.
The soaking upholstery squelched as Kal sat down.
‘So where are you headed?’ Kal asked, making no comment about the how the girl had ducked down out of sight. Kal turned on the ignition, and, as the oncoming car cruised across the junction, she clocked its details.
The girl sat up slowly. She had a pale complexion and delicate, elfin looks. Kal couldn’t see any bruising or marks, and she didn’t appear homeless because she wore expensive clothing. Kal decided not to push for the girl’s name.
In the rear-view mirror, attractive, almond-shaped eyes met Kal’s gaze.
‘Something tells me you’re in a rush to get somewhere too,’ the girl said.
‘How’d you work that out?’
‘From the look on your face, and anyway people don’t dash around in weather like this unless they have to.’
That was a surprise. So, she was petrified and running and yet she had a grasp on reading other people.
‘You’re right,’ Kal said, ‘I was in a hurry to get to the hospital.’
‘What for?’
‘To see my best friend.’
‘A ‘she’ or a ‘he’?’
‘A ‘she’ and her name’s Marty.’
‘I guess she’s ill then?’
‘There was a terrible accident and Marty has been in a coma state for months. Her brother just contacted me to say she’s conscious. I know there’s no excuse for it but that’s why I was rushing when I shouldn’t have been.’
Keeping the girl talking would be the best way to build a bridge and Kal hoped it would give her a chance of finding out more.
‘Marty’s family are there so it’s not even certain I’d get any time with her, I know that, but I was so excited and so grateful when I got the message.’
Kal pulled away from the kerb. ‘I’ve been desperate. Helpless in a way I’ve never known before. I kept wishing it was me on that bed and not her and it’s been driving me crazy.’ Kal clamped her mouth shut. She wouldn’t normally spill all of that out to a stranger, or to anyone for that matter.
‘Yeah, I think I understand. When you love someone, everything gets twisted out of line.’
Those almond eyes met Kal’s again and Kal felt her assessment of the girl shifting. By using her intuition, this girl had found a way through Kal’s armour as if it were the easiest thing in the world. And that was far from true – Kal could count the people she trusted with her feelings on less than one hand.
‘Marty’s accident wasn’t your fault,’ the girl said.
Actually, it was, thought Kal.
‘We always blame ourselves for stuff we’ve no control over, that’s what I think,’ the girl said. ‘So you should let yourself off the hook.’
Kal concentrated on the road. The girl was spot on with her comments and that was spooky, especially for someone so young. You only got that type of insight in special circumstances, like if you were brainwashed from an early age by an expert in psychology, as Kal had been by her father. Or, if you learned to analyse other people because you felt it was the only way of keeping yourself alive. Yes, life or death, that’s what her intuition was screaming – this girl had been in a life or death situation and it had left her scarred. Kal glanced in the rear-view mirror.
‘Where can I take you? You didn’t say yet.’
‘We’re going in the right direction, so I didn’t need to. Actually, I’m heading for Montgomery Road. D’you know it?’
Kal hid her reaction. Everyone around here knew Montgomery. It was the red-light district of this part of London, full of drug addicts and underage prostitutes and definitely not the place for a vulnerable young woman. This was going from bad to worse.
‘Yes, I think so. Do you have friends there? Family?’
If she asked too many questions, the girl would clam up. Montgomery was only a couple of streets away, so Kal deliberately took a wrong turn, driving down a one-way system that would gain her a few more minutes.
‘If you must know, I’ve a friend there.’
‘Someone you can trust?’
‘Since when is a friend someone you can’t trust?’
Kal decided to take a risk. ‘I suppose you know it’s a red-light area and I don’t feel too comfortable dropping you there, what with the freaky weather, and it’s going to be night soon. Why not stay at my place instead? No questions asked, I promise, and you can head off in the morning.’
‘You said you’d drop me where I wanted. What, you think I’m some kind of stupid kid who doesn’t know how to look after myself? Of course I know it’s where the prostitutes hang out.’
‘I’m trying to help, listen, if you’re in trouble-’
‘No and I don’t need your help. Let me out here.’ The girl yanked at the door handle.
Kal pulled over and twisted around. ‘Please don’t run off. I respect your choices and your life is your business. I only want to make sure you’re safe.’
Kal clicked off the central locking and though the girl kept both hands on the handle, she didn’t pull at it again.
‘I know you do and I like you but don’t behave like an ass-hole.’
‘I like you too and I mean it and, believe me, that’s not something I say often. If you won’t take up my offer of a bed then at least let me take you to the door. Please?’
The girl sniffed. ‘Okay. Number thirty-three. And don’t turn down that stupid one-way system again.’
Kal had run out of time and options. They arrived in Montgomery Road far too soon. Three-storey terraced houses ran the length of the street, some of them looked in good repair and others
were neglected. The red brick walls and Georgian bay windows were so uniform that the eye was caught by the long row of front doors, each of them painted a different colour. The door to number thirty-three was bright red.
‘Look, I don’t want to be out-of-line but maybe I can help? If you’re in some sort of danger…’
‘I’m really not. I’ll be totally okay.’
Kal pulled on the hand brake. ‘Be safe and, I tell you what, why don’t I give you my number in case?’
‘I’ll be fine. Go to your friend, she’ll be glad to see you…’
‘I’m not so sure about that.’
‘…oh, and I didn’t tell you, my name’s Sophie.’
Kal smiled. ‘I’m sorry again about earlier, Sophie, and if you ever-’
Sophie didn’t stop to hear the rest. She was already out of the car and running towards the red door. Kal watched Sophie standing in the rain, watched her ring the bell, and then watched her disappear inside.
Chapter Three
I suppose the realisation I was different stole up on me slowly.
There were signs from early on, if I’m honest. Like my first year in primary school when Mirabella wet her knickers in front of the whole class – the girls were mortified and the boys laughed and I was excited.
So, yeah, I knew I was different. To survive, I learned to act like my friends and I’m so good, pretty much everyone in my life would say I’m normal and I like that because it means I’m clever.
One thing I’ve learned is that when you’ve wanted something for a long time, your mind makes tracks in the sand showing exactly how it’s going to turn out. You anticipate your own excitement, your own arousal, and what the other person will say and do. Those tracks start out delicate and then solidify with each replaying of the fantasy, until they get to be as firm as a rail track. The fantasy can keep me occupied for months only, at some point, I have to have the real deal – the flash of horror in their eyes, the desperate urge to plea for mercy, bowels voiding and dribbling down a leg. It’s the helplessness that grabs me – when they realise there’s absolutely nothing they can do. It’s the best drug in the world.
London Noir: A gripping crime suspense thriller (Kal Medi Book 2) Page 1
