only she’d been wearing proper shoes. It was the wrong side of ten-thirty before she finally made it back to Jericho, rattled and exhausted and still fretting about her lost things and what the hell she was going to do. Geoffrey Hawkins now knew everything about her. The ‘Helen Brown’ front was totally blown apart. He knew what she did, why she’d approached him; and it wouldn’t take much to find out that his wife had hired her to do it. A nightmare situation.
The warm, soft light from the windows of her flat looked so inviting as she hurried the last steps to her door that she could have wept with relief. She pressed the doorbell, ready for Hayley’s surprised reaction at her appearing without a key, and full of apologies for being back so late.
No reply. Kate waited a few moments and was about to ring the bell a second time when she realised that the door wasn’t only unlocked, it was lying open half an inch. Strange, she thought.
She went inside. The TV was on, with the volume up too high: some American cop movie, a screeching car chase and gunfire, playing to an empty living room. The remote control was resting on the armchair. Kate picked it up and muted the noise from the television.
‘Hayley?’ she called out. Not too loudly, in case she woke Charlie. Which, she thought with a little spike of irritation, the blaring movie might easily have done anyway. It wasn’t like Hayley to be thoughtless like that.
Kate walked into the kitchen, expecting to find her friend making tea or a snack. ‘Hayley?’
No Hayley. She was probably in the bathroom, Kate thought, and discreetly returned to the living room where she flopped in the armchair in front of the muted TV and spent a moment or two reflecting unhappily on her predicament. How was she going to get her stuff back? First thing, she’d have to report her bank card stolen. Was there a twenty-four-hour service you could call to do that?
Two minutes went by, then three, then five. No sign of Hayley, no flushing toilet, no sound of any activity. Distracted from thinking about her troubles, Kate got up and walked back out into the short passage that connected the tiny flat’s rooms. The bathroom door was last on the left, where the passage angled back slightly out of sight. It wasn’t the best-fitting door in the world, and when the light was on you could see it shining through the gap between the bottom edge and the worn linoleum floor. Charlie was forever leaving it on, and so Kate was very used to seeing the telltale strip of light glowing at the top of the passage.
But there was no light coming from under the door now. Kate turned the handle. The door opened to darkness.
‘Hayley?’
Kate frowned, irritation turning to apprehension. Where was she? How could she leave Charlie alone like this?
Thinking of Charlie gave her the impulse to check on him. She walked back down the passage, stepping softly as she neared his bedroom door. She gently grasped the handle, quietly turned it, eased the door open a few inches and put her head round the edge. The room was softly bathed in the soothing blue glow of his little nightlight, and in the shadows Kate could see that his Spiderman duvet was rumpled and pulled back. She stepped silently inside the room to straighten it up.
And that was when she realised that the bed was empty. She backed away from it, startled and now suddenly more anxious. Was he hiding in the wardrobe again? One of his games was to sneak in there when she thought he was fast asleep, then wait quietly until she came to check on him and come bursting out at just the right moment, yelling ‘Fooled you!’. Worked every time. He was a master at frightening the wits out of her. Of course, he did it less and less these days, ever since his eyesight had begun to deteriorate.
But the wardrobe didn’t burst open. Kate ran over to it and grasped the wooden knobs of the doors and swung them out wide. There was nothing inside but clothes on
The warm, soft light from the windows of her flat looked so inviting as she hurried the last steps to her door that she could have wept with relief. She pressed the doorbell, ready for Hayley’s surprised reaction at her appearing without a key, and full of apologies for being back so late.
No reply. Kate waited a few moments and was about to ring the bell a second time when she realised that the door wasn’t only unlocked, it was lying open half an inch. Strange, she thought.
She went inside. The TV was on, with the volume up too high: some American cop movie, a screeching car chase and gunfire, playing to an empty living room. The remote control was resting on the armchair. Kate picked it up and muted the noise from the television.
‘Hayley?’ she called out. Not too loudly, in case she woke Charlie. Which, she thought with a little spike of irritation, the blaring movie might easily have done anyway. It wasn’t like Hayley to be thoughtless like that.
Kate walked into the kitchen, expecting to find her friend making tea or a snack. ‘Hayley?’
No Hayley. She was probably in the bathroom, Kate thought, and discreetly returned to the living room where she flopped in the armchair in front of the muted TV and spent a moment or two reflecting unhappily on her predicament. How was she going to get her stuff back? First thing, she’d have to report her bank card stolen. Was there a twenty-four-hour service you could call to do that?
Two minutes went by, then three, then five. No sign of Hayley, no flushing toilet, no sound of any activity. Distracted from thinking about her troubles, Kate got up and walked back out into the short passage that connected the tiny flat’s rooms. The bathroom door was last on the left, where the passage angled back slightly out of sight. It wasn’t the best-fitting door in the world, and when the light was on you could see it shining through the gap between the bottom edge and the worn linoleum floor. Charlie was forever leaving it on, and so Kate was very used to seeing the telltale strip of light glowing at the top of the passage.
But there was no light coming from under the door now. Kate turned the handle. The door opened to darkness.
‘Hayley?’
Kate frowned, irritation turning to apprehension. Where was she? How could she leave Charlie alone like this?
Thinking of Charlie gave her the impulse to check on him. She walked back down the passage, stepping softly as she neared his bedroom door. She gently grasped the handle, quietly turned it, eased the door open a few inches and put her head round the edge. The room was softly bathed in the soothing blue glow of his little nightlight, and in the shadows Kate could see that his Spiderman duvet was rumpled and pulled back. She stepped silently inside the room to straighten it up.
And that was when she realised that the bed was empty. She backed away from it, startled and now suddenly more anxious. Was he hiding in the wardrobe again? One of his games was to sneak in there when she thought he was fast asleep, then wait quietly until she came to check on him and come bursting out at just the right moment, yelling ‘Fooled you!’. Worked every time. He was a master at frightening the wits out of her. Of course, he did it less and less these days, ever since his eyesight had begun to deteriorate.
But the wardrobe didn’t burst open. Kate ran over to it and grasped the wooden knobs of the doors and swung them out wide. There was nothing inside but clothes on
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