‘Sir,’ she called.
He turned back and smiled.
‘Thanks for the offer though. See you tomorrow.’ She was going to update her notes, call Dawn Brown to ask about her phone calls and then she was grabbing some chips and going home to work.
Gina pulled her hood over her head as she jogged across the car park, trying to avoid the puddles forming in the tiny potholes. The chip shop was calling. The sick feeling in her stomach was more likely to be hunger.
‘Fancy seeing you, Detective,’ Steven called as he waited beside the main road. ‘Just waiting for the bitch to pick me up.’
She felt her heart begin to race. He’d been waiting for her, she knew it. ‘Good for you.’ She pulled her car keys from her pocket and pressed the button, unlocking her car doors.
‘You can fool them but you can’t fool me, Gina. You’re like me, aren’t you? Like a bit of someone else in the bedroom. Terry told me all about your ways.’ He winked and grinned.
Her stomach lurched. Maybe she’d forget the chips. She turned and swallowed forcing away the gagging feeling that threatened to overcome her. What had Terry told Steven about that night? Obviously not the truth. She opened her car door, swallowed and turned back to face him. ‘Steven, just go home and stop being a dick.’
‘You like dick, don’t you, Gina? I know everything.’ He paused and laughed, raindrops bouncing off his nose. ‘You know it has struck me and our family that you’ve never properly grieved for Terry. Miss him, do you?’ He pointed two fingers at his eyes and then pointed them over at her. ‘Your own daughter thinks you’re a cold-hearted bitch too, that’s why she moved.’
She flinched as if that comment had literally slapped her. Sticking two fingers up at him, she got into her car and drove off without looking back. As she turned out of the car park, she passed Dawn’s car. That’s why Dawn hadn’t been answering her phone when Gina had called her, she’d been driving.
Terry told me all about your ways.Her skin began to itch as she thought back to the night when at knifepoint Terry had forced both her and the prostitute to do things as they cried into the night. Tears flooded her face as she wondered exactly what Terry had said to Steven. The rain fell harder, clouding the windscreen. As she left the town and headed along the country roads, she slammed the brakes on and jolted out of the car, throwing up in the verge, trying to purge herself of all that had happened. She retched until nothing more would come out. Soaked through, she staggered back to her car, sat in the front seat and gazed through the steamed-up window as she yelled and hit the passenger seat until she’d drained herself. One thing she was certain of was that Steven wouldn’t win this battle, he couldn’t. If he did, she would be finished.
Thirty-Two
I watch through the hole in the back fence as Aimee helps Nicole drag her cases through the hallway. Spending time with Aimee is a little trickier now that her dopey friend had arrived back from her holiday. My mind wandered back to how we’d meet.
Aimee would enter the café, coming out of the rain. We’d part after arranging a date. Of course, a date was inevitable. I’d easily be able to impress her as I already knew all about her. I’ve watched her little fitness videos on YouTube, read her blog, checked out her Facebook page and even tried some of her fitness tips. I’ve never followed her page or tried to friend her though, don’t want to look like a cyber stalker.
The rain has stopped for now. I inhale, enjoying the earthy smell that has been left behind. What I really want to smell is Aimee’s soft perfume tantalising my senses. I’d like nothing more than to run my fingers through her soft curls and feel the firmness of her body pressed against mine. My mind wanders all too often.
The two women head towards the kitchen and the shorter chubby woman grabs a pen. Through the open window I hear parts of their conversation. Fish and chips, Aimee only wants fish with no batter, always watching her figure. The good news is, one of them will be going to fetch their food and as Nicole has her coat on, it looks like she will be the one. My stomach flips with excitement.
Nicole flings the back door open and lights up a cigarette. I’d love a cigarette but now isn’t a good time and I’ve been trying to quit. I can smell Aimee’s perfume through the smoke, it’s only slight but I can detect it. Lilies, I love them. They remind me of someone else but I can’t think about her at the moment. I don’t want to think about her – there’s a time and a place. Aimee scurries around, looking for her purse.
‘You’re always losing things,’ I whisper with a smile.
‘Found it! You know, those cancer sticks will kill you. I can’t believe you started smoking again when you were away.’
Nicole laughs and taps her friend on the shoulder. ‘Oh shut up, Mum.’
Aimee passes her some cash.
‘Have you heard from him since?’
Aimee shakes her head. ‘No. But he didn’t do it, I’m sure of that.’
‘You can’t keep defending him. I heard what went on and he’s well capable of doing it. I’ve seen him when he’s in a mood.’
Aimee steps back into the kitchen, casting a shadow across the garden as she stands in the light. ‘I can’t talk about this now. Forget my fish.’
I love the rage in her face, it almost turns me on.
‘Aimee, Aimee—’ Nicole takes a final drag on her cigarette and throws it on the slabs, its gentle glow fizzling out as the damp concrete consumes all its warmth. ‘I’ll get you your fish anyway.’
It’s no use Nicole talking to Aimee, she’s already gone in and isn’t listening. My back stiffens and I want to stand up straight and to walk it off but it’s so quiet. Nicole eventually slams the door at the same time Aimee’s bedroom light goes on. Aimee stares out of her window so I press my body against the fence and hold my breath, knowing she can’t see me here. The light on the bushes behind me softens as she closes her curtains. I bend once again and stare through the hole. Nicole walks around the house and heads off towards the chip shop. Ten minutes to walk there, ten minutes in the shop and ten minutes back. That gives me thirty minutes alone with Aimee. And the stupid woman didn’t lock the back door. This was too easy. ‘It’s just you and me, Aimee.’
Just as I enter the kitchen door, the neighbour’s dog bounds over and starts jumping against the fence. Slipping through the door, I gently close it behind me. Thirty minutes and the clock is ticking.
Thirty-Three
