Mouse

27





Granite Cold




He hadn’t expected to feel jealousy. But Vince felt something cold scrape his stomach as he walked down the stairs with an empty waste-paper bin in his hand. He stepped down into the foyer, and he saw Edith chatting away with a young man. She had been busy re-stacking the sweets in the kiosk but was obviously finding the young man’s attention infinitely more rewarding.

Vince recognised him – Leonard Kimble had been to the Empire a few times, trying to secure free cinema tickets so he could write a movie review for the Langbridge gazette in return. Caldwell didn’t give out tickets that easily, but Vince reckoned the old place could do with all the publicity it could get so he’d give Kimble one or two of his own freebies. But in the end the reviews weren’t well written, and in fact were perhaps the worst thing he’d ever read in the Gazette and that said something. Leonard Kimble, Vince heard later, had only managed to land the job because his mother was related to the paper’s editor. Everyone in Langbridge was related to everyone else, he thought, in one way or another.

‘Hello, Vince,’ said Edith. ‘This is Leonard. He’s a reporter now. How exciting!’

‘We know each other already,’ said Vince unexcitedly.

‘Lenny was in the year above me at school, isn’t that right, Lenny? He was spotty then.’

Kimble’s face said he would have preferred to have kept that to himself. ‘Hello, Vince. How are things?’ he greeted.

‘On the scrounge for tickets again?’ said Vince.

‘Not today,’ he returned. ‘I need a bit of information.’

‘He’s writing an important article for the Gazette,’ said Edith, quite enthralled.

‘Important, huh? Have more chickens gone missing?’ said Vince. ‘Wait, don’t tell me – the swimming baths in Glastonbury will be having a change of water? Mercy me, whatever next?’

‘Very droll,’ said Kimble, brushing off the swipe. ‘There’s more to the job of Gazette reporter than reporting on missing chickens. Like there’s more to being a projectionist at the Empire than changing light-bulbs and emptying bins.’ He looked down at the bin in Vince’s hand.

Edith looked from one to the other of them. ‘I thought you two were friends.’

‘Acquaintances,’ Vince informed. He didn’t like the way Leonard Kimble had been eyeing-up Edith, staring at her chest, small though that might be. ‘What do you want, Leonard? We’re very busy here.’

‘What do you know about Monica’s disappearance? I talked to Caldwell and he’s not saying much.’

‘That horrible woman?’ said Edith. ‘Why do you want to write something about her?’

‘She may not have been your cup of tea,’ he said, ‘but she’s missing. I’d like to help find her, write something for the Gazette to jog people’s memories, that kind of thing.’

‘Well she can stay missing for all I care,’ said Vince.

‘That’s not very nice, Vince? Did you have something against her?’

He said bluntly, ‘I didn’t like her. End of story.’

‘Is that so?’ he raised an eyebrow.

‘She was going to try and get rid of Vince, get him sacked,’ interjected Edith. ‘She was a nasty woman. No one is sad that she’s gone.’

‘Had it in for you, did she, Vince?’ said Kimble.

‘Monica had it in for everyone, not just me.’

‘But you’re glad she’s gone?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean, Leonard?’

He shook his head. ‘Doesn’t mean a thing. My gran tells me Monica and Caldwell had a thing going on. You hear anything like that?’

‘None of our business is it?’ said Vince. ‘He can do what he likes.’

‘Imagine if his wife found out. He wouldn’t want that to happen, would he?’

‘Leonard, who do you think you are – Dixon of Dock Green or something? Leave it to the police.’

‘But that’s what all investigative reporters do, isn’t it, Lenny? Snoop around,’ Edith enthused.

Vince gave a grunt. ‘Not for the Langbridge Gazette they don’t.’

‘Monica used to do some cleaning work for the Leach family at Devereux Towers,’ said Kimble unperturbed. ‘One of the cleaners said you had a crush on Laura Leach.’

‘What has that got to do with anything?’ said Vince, flashing a smouldering glare at Edith. He saw her shrink back to the Mars Bars she’d been stacking.

‘Just thought you might give me a few tips on how to approach her, that’s all. I hear she’s a bit strange.’ He laughed. ‘They used to say at school that she’d murdered her family and had them all walled-up somewhere. Maybe she’s done the same to Monica, who knows?’ He laughed again but no one was laughing with him and it petered-out into an embarrassed croak. ‘Just a joke,’ he said.

‘Well it’s not funny,’ Vince remarked caustically. ‘She’s a normal, nice woman, and I wish people would just leave her alone. Why do people always have to be so spiteful and vindictive?’

‘Where there’s smoke…’ said Kimble with a wink at Edith.

‘Meaning?’ said Vince.

‘She was closely involved with the death of a driving instructor years ago. That’s why she ended up in Bartholomew Place. You know what that is?’

‘Yes, I know!’ Vince snapped. ‘So she’s been ill, why must everyone assume the worst? A driving instructor’s death? That’s ludicrous! You don’t even know her – how can you say those kinds of things?’

‘I know her as much as you do, Moody,’ he returned. ‘You only know what you want to know. Anyhow, I managed to trace someone who actually worked there as a nurse. I’ll be speaking to her.’

‘I thought you were looking into Monica’s disappearance?’ said Vince. ‘Now you’re snooping into Laura’s past. What’s the connection?’

Leonard Kimble smiled. ‘One never knows what dirt one will dig up once one starts digging. You have to admit, it all sounds juicy, doesn’t it? Very Daily Mail.’ He deliberately turned his back on Vince and faced Edith. ‘Maybe we can go out for a drink together one night. Talk about old times.’ He made no attempt to hide the fact he was taking in the mound of her breasts.

‘Old times?’ scoffed Vince. ‘Like life in the nursery?’

Edith glanced at him. She turned to Kimble and said that would be nice and she’d think about it. Kimble left the Empire, whistling confidently to himself.

‘I really don’t like him,’ said Vince.

‘He’s harmless,’ Edith said. ‘He said he always fancied me at school. Said I looked pretty now, just before you came down the stairs. He didn’t know I was working here.’

‘You’re not falling for that, are you?’

‘’I never really liked him myself. He’s always been a bit strange and creepy. He got expelled from school for a while for groping the girls. After that I avoided him. All the girls did.’

‘You’re not going to go out with him then, are you?’

‘I wasn’t going to, and certainly not if you don’t want me to, Vince,’ she said, her large eyes blinking.

Vince said, ‘He’s all talk. He’s no more an investigative journalist than I am manager of the Empire. He’s full of hot air and wind, is all. I’d avoid people like that.’

She reached out and touched his hand. ‘But you will be manager one day, Vince.’

‘I’m a nobody,’ he said, snatching his hand away and putting it in his pocket. ‘I’ll never be anything.’

‘You’ve never been a nobody to me, Vince. You’ll always be a somebody to me.’

Her words stirred strange emotions within him, and he swore he could still feel her hand on his, as if she’d left some kind of exquisite scorch mark there.





There was a heavy pounding at the door, which shattered the silence and made Laura start. Her heart crashed wildly as the noise continued. She closed the door to her father’s study and went into the grand entrance hall. The thump-thump-thump didn’t abate and echoed the sounds of her thumping heart.

‘Who is it?’ she asked.

The knocking stopped for a second or two at the sound of her voice. Then it cranked back up again, more furious than ever. Laura unbolted the heavy oak door and swung it open.

‘Where is he, you bitch?’ Katherine screamed. She looked positively manic, her hair plastered down by the rain, her clothes already soaked through. Her mascara had run, and coupled with her bright-red lipstick it gave the impression of a half-drowned clown. But her eyes were livid, wide, blazing orbs of sheer hatred. ‘What have you done to him?’ she cried.

Laura closed the door on her but Katherine stuck her foot in the gap, stopping her. ‘Get away from me!’ said Laura. ‘Leave me alone!’

‘Not until you tell me where he is!’

‘I don’t know and I don’t care,’ Laura said.

‘I know it was you who damaged my car, who broke into my house and slashed everything up. You’re stalking me, aren’t you? Trying to scare me off. And you left me this!’ She held up the blood-smeared jacket. ‘What have you done to Felix?’

‘Felix?’ she echoed. ‘I know that’s his real name,’ said Laura. ‘Just as I knew you weren’t his sister either. I knew that much when you first came to see me. You must both think me entirely stupid.’ Laura’s expression had hardened. ‘And you must think me totally helpless, too.’ Her tone was granite-cold.

‘You don’t scare me, you crazy bitch! I know you’ve done something terrible to Felix and you won’t frighten me away till I find out what you’ve done.’

‘He said he loved me,’ said Laura flatly. ‘He made me think he was telling the truth, and all along he used that to get money from me. I loved him, and I believe I would have done anything for him. How could you have been so cruel?’

‘Look at you, Laura,’ Katherine sneered, ‘do you really suppose a man like Felix could ever love a woman like you? He told me how he was glad he never had to sleep with you to get the money. He said he’d rather sleep with a pig!’

Laura screamed loudly and launched her full weight at Katherine, grabbing her by her slender throat, forcing her back so that she fell awkwardly onto the puddled gravel. Katherine’s eyes bulged; her tongue was forced slug-like from between her red lips as she struggled to breathe. She beat at Laura with her fists but could not dislodge her. Laura’s face was twisted with rage, her teeth bared as she squeezed her fingers around Katherine’s throat with all the strength she could muster.

But then she released her. She stood up, her chest heaving. Her hair wet and matted, her eyes fierce. Katherine gasped for breath, holding her throat and raising herself onto her elbow. ‘You’re f*cking crazy!’ she said, the effort painful.

‘If I ever see you again,’ said Laura breathlessly, ‘I will kill you.’ She went to the door, was about to close it.

Katherine struggled to her feet. ‘What’s behind the blue door, you bitch?’

At this Laura grabbed one of her father’s walking-sticks from a stand by the door, a stout oak affair topped with a silver handle in the shape of a bull. She cried out shrilly and ran to Katherine, raising the stick high and swinging it down across Katherine’s face. Blood gushed from a long cut on her cheek. She raised it again, this time savagely hitting Katherine’s shoulder. The woman ran back to her car crying out in agony, Laura close behind her, swinging the walking-stick wildly, managing to land a couple of blows onto Katherine’s back as she swung open the car door. She flung herself inside and locked the door on Laura’s manic screaming. The walking-stick’s silver handle crashed against the side window, smashing it and showering Katherine’s bloodied face with glass. The car tyres threw up gravel as Katherine sought to get away as quickly as she could, the stick coming down on the car’s roof, denting it. Laura took one last swing at the speeding vehicle but missed. Laura cried out at the top of her voice till she could cry no more, watching Katherine’s car bouncing down the track in the distance. She threw the walking-stick away.

Sobbing, Laura turned and went inside. She thought she heard her father’s breathing again, close at her shoulder. Heard him say that sometimes it was alright to kill someone, especially if they sought to hurt you.

Yes, she thought, tears stinging her eyes, sometimes it is the only way…



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