“No doubt. But why fostering? Didn’t they ever want to adopt?”
“You’d have to ask them. But Maureen’s got a massive heart and believes she was born into this world to give to others, and in her mind fostering focuses on many rather than a few.”
“What about Ozzie?”
“They are so similar, but Ozzie always jokes that he was born to please Maureen. So what Maureen wants, she gets, no questions asked. She can be quite persuasive when she wants to be, you know.”
Albie smiled and picked up a photograph of a skinny dark-haired girl sitting astride a bike and handed it to Olivia.
“Definitely you, the only person I know with almond shaped malteser coloured eyes. I’d recognise you anywhere.”
Olivia looked down at the picture.
“I loved that bike.” She smiled.
“You came off it enough times. I lost count of the times I was either patching you up or the bike.”
Olivia dropped the frame on her chair, rushed towards the man in the doorway and flung her arms around him.
“Alright, that’s enough. You’ll squeeze me till I burst, and you don’t want to be around when that happens.” He gave her a quick squeeze in return, then untangled himself from her grip and encouraged Mitchell into the room.
“Come on, Mitch. Maureen’s made you some chocolate cookies. If you want one we need to sit on the sofa by the window.” Ozzie grabbed his hand and guided him towards the window seat. By the time he’d settled, Maureen had entered the room with her first tray of goodies. She looked down at Albie’s choice of photo.
“Aye, that’s her. Always been a beauty, our Olivia. A little on the thin side, but a beauty all the same.”
Olivia’s cheeks reddened, but Maureen continued regardless. “Now I know you’ve visited for a particular reason, but if it’s alright with you, Sergeant could it wait until we’ve eaten? Only it’d be a shame to spoil anyone’s appetite, especially when someone has only recently started eating again.”
Albie nodded and accepted a thick slice of lemon cake before taking a swig of hot dark brewed tea from a flowery mug which at second glance he realised matched the rest of the chintz in the room. From the time he’d been told to deliver the news of Emily’s death to her son, Albie had been dreading this moment, and any opportunity to delay the news was welcome. Albie studied Mitchell as he nibbled a chocolate cookie, he seemed content to just sit and listen to Ozzie talk. He had more colour in his cheeks than at the hospital, although his skin still had a translucent sheen. His veins were prominent. It was like looking at a map of a river and its tributories.
Albie waited until Mitchell had wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and brushed the crumbs from his lap before he turned to Maureen.
“Mrs McNally?”
She drank the last of her tea and placed the cup and saucer on the tray with a shaky hand before nodding in Albie’s direction and turning her focus to Mitchell.
“Mitchell, love. The policeman here has come to give you some news. Now I want you to listen carefully to what he tells you. Okay?”
The boy looked from Maureen to Ozzie. The long-haired man with round gold rimmed spectacles gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and smiled down on him.
Albie cleared his throat, made his voice as soft and small as he could, and leant forward in his chair.
“It’s…well…The news is about your mum, Mitchell.” Albie slowed and observed the boy’s reaction at the mention of his mother. He sat dead still apart from one hand, which he balled into a fist, and the hypnotic pulse popping at the side of his neck.
“I’m sad to have to tell you she’s dead. Your mum is dead.”
Mitchell’s eyes shifted towards Ozzie as he gave his arm another squeeze and silence loomed. Olivia raised her hand as Albie opened his mouth to fill the silence. Instead, a low rumble reached his ears which intensified into the high-pitched sound of a wounded animal. Whether it was relief or sorrow escaping from his damaged body, it was hard to know, but not a tear fell from his eyes.
26
Taking one last glance at herself in the full-length mirror, Josie made a conscious effort to ignore the imperfections she saw staring back at her and smiled as she made her way to the door. She was going to enjoy herself this evening, switch off, and have some fun.
“Wow! Look at you,” Guy said with an admiring gaze as he appeared in the doorway.
“Well. Come on then.” She grabbed him by the arm and looked up at him expectantly. “So, where are you taking me?”
“If I had my way, to heaven and back.” He winked at her, and a boyish grin spread across his face as Josie gave him a playful punch in the arm. “But if you won’t let me take you there, how about The Prince of Wales?”
It had been a while since she’d been to the Heath. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out for a drink.
“Sounds perfect.”
His smile mimicked her own as he spread his fingers, placed his palm in the small of her back, and guided her towards the lifts.
Josie wiped her sweaty hands with a tissue. The drive had begun in silence. Her mouth was dry, and she found it uncomfortable to swallow. Guy leant across and switched on the radio. The unique vocals of Stevie Nicks filled the car.
“You loved her voice. Remember?”
Josie nodded and smiled. “I remember you took the piss when I tried to sing and dance to Fleetwood Mac.”
“That was only to your face. I used to watch you.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Without you knowing.” Guy kept his face forward and changed gear.
Josie twisted towards him in her seat. Still he didn’t look her way. “You used to watch me?”
“You fascinated me. It was like you had me under some kind of spell.” Finally, he glanced her way.
She giggled and shrugged her shoulders.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit creepy. I mean, what was I? A school boy crush or something?”
“Perhaps…One thing’s for sure, if we’re discussing the past we’re in for one hell of an evening.” With a chuckle, he pulled into a parking spot.
“Inside or outside? Do you have a preference?”
Josie took Guy’s outstretched hand as she stepped down from the Land Rover. She scanned a few tables at the far side of the pub garden.
“Outside. Where we can continue to explore your sick teenage habits.”
Guy sauntered towards the door and held it open to the sounds of conversation and laughter. The bar was already two deep, and it was still early. Josie nodded towards the gardens.
“Why don’t I grab a table and leave you to fight your way through the crowds? A vodka and tonic, ice and slice for me please.”
“Your wish is my command.” He bowed his head before walking through the door.
“Cheeky sod.” She giggled.
If her memories were to be believed, she had always laughed and joked with Guy. He’d had a way of encouraging a smile and making her at ease when he was around. Probably because they had been young and carefree. But in contrast, Max, his brother who was only a couple of years older, had always been so serious. To a gullible girl like Josie, it seemed like Max had taken their relationship seriously. It was only in hindsight that she realised he had been desperate to get into her knickers. Fifteen had been too young for what turned out to be an interrupted fumble in an old shed at the end of Max’s parents’ garden.
Josie’d tried to believe Guy was unaware of the act he’d interrupted; however, after that evening, he’d become more distant with her. No more jokes, no more shared laughter, no more special grins for her alone. It was only two weeks later that Max had dumped her and moved on to Tracey Shell. It was rumoured that she’d give him his every desire which Max realised he’d have to wait a long time for if he stuck with Josie.
The early evening breeze caressed Josie’s shoulders and birds cheeped in the full green branches of an overhanging tree. Josie waited, facing the pub,
and as the door opened, she glimpsed Guy edging his way back through the crowds with a drink in each hand and packets of crisps held tightly between his teeth. He dropped the crisps on the table, and as she looked up into his animated face, she couldn’t help but smile. She bent forward as he leant in as if to hand her the glass of vodka, but instead he took the opportunity to graze her cheek with a kiss.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered. “Just how I remember you.” Then he sat opposite her and smiled as she felt a blush dust the cheek his lips had just brushed.
They talked for a while about the lives they’d lived since last seeing each other. By the time the moon lit up the sky in the late evening darkness, Josie felt relaxed from the heat of the alcohol and the warmth of the company. Guy had a way of firing up her senses until she felt drunk on his light-heartedness. The further she lowered her guard, the more she flirted. She fluttered her eyelashes and caressed his arm as she agreed with a comment he made. Her tongue had a will of its own as it traced the shape of her lips. She leaned forward when she spoke, aware that her cleavage was in clear view.
“Another?” Guy half stood as he slipped his fingers into the rim of three empty glasses and expertly picked them up together.
Josie unzipped her purse. “Let me get these.”
Guy placed a hand over hers as she struggled with the zip. “Put your money away…Oh, your hands are freezing.” He put down the glasses and rubbed her hands between his own. “We can go inside if you want.” He gestured towards the pub, picked up the glasses again, and made a move towards the doors.
Josie gave both arms a brisk rub and draped a cardigan from the back of her chair over her shoulders.
“I’m not ready to go inside yet. It’s packed in there. We’ll be shouting at each other to be heard.”
Josie focused on his retreating body, happy to admire his attributes without being seen. It was the first time she’d enjoyed male company this much in years, and she wasn’t ready to burst their intimate bubble yet.
A chill ran down her spine as the voices from the pub were silenced by the slam of the door. She tensed, slipped her arms into her cardigan, and hugged herself to eradicate the icy tingle of intuition that caressed her body and tightened in her gut. She listened, senses heightened by the sudden silence, but all she could hear was a pulsating thud in her ears which increased to a ridiculous rate. Eyes widened, she glanced around the few people still in the garden huddled in intimate groups paying her no attention. A late autumn chill frolicked with her hair as she sipped her drink and tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that she was not alone. The crack of a twig, the smell of a familiar aftershave, a sudden scuttle in the undergrowth, and a deep heavy breath. Imagined or otherwise, they were enough to tickle the hairs on the back of her neck to standing and overwhelm her with a pure and unsullied fear.
Grasping her bag in one hand and her glass in the other, Josie ran towards the doors past the groups of huddled people and a couple engrossed in each other. She was oblivious to the vodka and tonic splashing over the side of her glass and soaking her dress as she ran or the dark-haired man who stepped from the shadows, walked calmly towards the gate, and followed her into the crowded bar.
“Good call,” Guy said as she leaned back against the bar next to him. He studied her pale face and placed a hand on her shaking arm.
Josie placed a hand on his arm and nodded. “I’m good. Just cold. That’s all.” She looked up, returned his smile, and her whole body relaxed, melting under his gaze. He threw his arm around her shoulder and guided her to a vacated corner table, as they chatted and laughed, the tension and fear dissipated, replaced by a warmth and desire to live fully in the present moment.
Josie leant against the inside door waiting for the lift and resigned herself to ending the evening alone, much to her annoyance. She’d been surprised at the attraction she’d felt for Guy. Kissing had led to touching as they said their goodnights in the Land Rover. Josie encouraged his familiarity and as she waved at Guy from the balcony, she couldn’t hide the beginnings of a grin. There was much to be said for roaming hands and fingers skimming skin that hadn’t been touched intimately for a while. Guy waved in return, and she watched as he leaned against the side door and lit a cigarette. She sighed. He was as good as his word. I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re safely inside, he’d said when she’d told him he could go and that she was quite capable of getting home from here.
Josie fiddled in her bag until she untangled the keys from the small zip pocket inside. She stepped towards the door, raised the key, then changed her mind and turned towards the balcony. Guy threw the butt on the floor and scuffed it with the sole of his shoe. An extended shadow raced across the wall at the back of the car park and lunged in Guy’s direction. Josie screamed his name, too late. Guy reached out to open the driver’s door as a bulky figure rammed into his back. Frozen to the spot, Josie grasped the edge of the balcony. She squeezed her eyes tight as Guy slid down the side of the door, out of sight, and the dark figure kicked out again and again. She sifted through the contents of her bag in desperation before her fingers grazed her phone.
“He’s being attacked…it’s happening…come now.”
Josie was still on the line when a buried thought wriggled to the surface and drew her attention to the curtained windows opposite.
She ran up and down the balcony screaming.
“Fire, fire. Help the flat’s on fire.” She watched the windows in the square light up like a firework display. Front doors opened, and as her neighbours rushed onto the balcony, the figure below made one last lunge at Guy’s slumped body before disappearing into a maze of darkness towards the bowels of Fennick Estate.
27
Drawn to the flashing display, Albie picked up his mobile. Noting the caller, he shook his head and sent the call to voicemail, then had a change of heart. He moved out of earshot of the few people left in the cafeteria and scrolled through his missed calls. Noting that Eva had been trying to contact him since the previous day, he scrolled down his contact list and hit call. He cursed himself for not responding earlier. Apart from his mother and Morgan, she was probably the only person in the world who cared if he lived or died.
“Finally, Eddie. So you are alive,” said the irate voice at the other end of the phone.
Smiling to himself, he ran his fingers through his hair and wandered into the corridor towards the fire exit. “Eva. Don’t be so silly. Of course I’m alive, little miss melodramatic.”
“Don’t be such a dickhead, Eddie. I’ve been worried. Plus I’ve had to calm down your demented girlfriend.”
Eddie held back a laugh. He’d known Eva since the age of five. When she’d found out his name was Albie Edwards, she insisted on calling him Eddie and it had stuck ever since. She’d shown her loyalty when she pushed a boy flying who was picking on him in the playground. He’d been in awe of her ever since, and as a result knew when it was best to stay quiet.
“Find it amusing, do you? Well you wouldn’t if you had to answer the door to her every five minutes. I think she suspects I’ve locked you up in the basement against your will.”
Albie pushed on the door and took a deep breath of polluted air as he stood on the metal steps and looked out on the overspilling industrial bins.
“Sorry about that, Eva. Didn’t give it a thought that she’d bother you.”
“No, Eddie. You just didn’t think as always. Anyway, you owe Mack an apology. Lucy’s kept him awake all day yesterday with her ranting and phone calls. Nightshift wasn’t great. He’s collapsed now”
“I’ll speak to him soon, I promise. I’ll make it up to him.”
“A bottle of red might help, not a cheap bottle though. Nothing from the corner shop. What did you do to her anyway?”
Albie watched a rodent shuffling around one of the bins and let out a sigh as a white and ginger flecked cat pounced from the top of the bin onto whatever was rummaging below.
“Look,” he said, scratchi
ng his forehead. “We’ll talk about this later, Eva. I’m busy now.” He turned and made his way back towards the door.
“When later?” she asked as his finger hovered over ‘End call’ button.”
“I’ll try to come round later. I’ll text you, alright?” He listened to silence for a few seconds.
“You’d better, Ed. I mean it. We need to talk.”
“I will,” he said and then added ‘promise’ for good measure before ending the call.
Albie felt for the packet of cigarettes he kept in his pocket. He'd given up a few years earlier—except for the victory smoke he indulged in when he’d solved a case. Instead of lighting up he strode back to the table gulped the rest of his lukewarm coffee, then made his way to the incident room. He shook his head at the thought of Eva’s attitude, and a grin spread across his face. He hoped she’d be calmer when they met up. She reminded him of a terrier when she got her teeth into his personal life. It was clear she wasn’t in a hurry to forget this Lucy thing yet. Not until she was certain he’d made the right decision.
The update was brief. Albie had little to report about his day visit to see Mitchell. He made it clear that he felt the trip had been a complete waste of his time. He’d gone on to reported Mitchell’s response to his mother’s death as bottled emotion and shock. In truth, the blank stare from the boy when he heard the news had disturbed Albie but not as much as the gurgle that escaped his lips before he’d dry heaved and run from the room. At that point, the reality of the attack on Mitchell and his unconditional love for his abusive and drug addled mother had struck a chord. At the time, Albie felt sorry for the boy because his anguish was suffocated by his silence. Now he fought to smother the jealousy he felt that a young boy could feel an unconditional love he’d never experienced himself.
They’d finally left with Maureen’s promise to make contact if Mitchell communicated anything that could contribute to the ongoing case. Albie wasn’t sure how he’d be able to do so without his tongue, although he trusted Maureen and Ozzie to give him all the support and encouragement he’d need.
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