FLICK, IPSWICH
Flick held a stylus between her fingers and a digital clipboard on her lap, and stared blankly at the wall ahead. She had gone as far as filling in her name before she stopped.
She glanced at the other women inside the private clinic’s waiting room. Some, like her, were alone, others were accompanied by friends, partners or parents. Nobody made eye contact with one another. But all were there for one purpose – to end their pregnancies. Flick guaranteed nobody had the same reason as her for terminating a child.
It was the first time she had been alone since viewing Bruno’s murder. An image of his bloody face and name carved into his forehead lingered in her memory. She’d also been struck by his apparent lack of fear; there were no tears, no recriminations and no last words, only an acceptance of his fate and even laughter before his killer snuffed him out.
For the best part of the month that followed, Flick used this second Minder’s murder as an excuse to shy away from confronting the problem growing inside her. Until this morning. When she awoke in the B&B, she knew that at ten weeks pregnant, she was more than halfway to the recently reduced legal abortion limit of eighteen weeks. Borrowing Grace’s car, she found herself at a clinic in nearbyIpswich, ready to eliminate the complication she was carrying.
Earlier in the week and in a moment of vulnerability, she’d visited Aldeburgh’s library to read a pregnancy guidebook. She learned that the cluster of cells inside her had morphed to the size of a strawberry. There were paddles where its limbs would eventually develop and even though it couldn’t hear anything, she’d found herself frequently talking to it. It was then that Flick realised she was developing an affection towards it. She had to get rid of it before she no longer had the choice.
She pointed the stylus in the direction of the box asking for a brief medical history summary. She was unsure whether to fabricate it in case it was ever traced back to her, or to be truthful. The Minder she’d met at the spa was the first person in so long she had been able to be honest with. She hadn’t realised how much she had missed it.
But in the end, it didn’t matter. Because try as she might, she could not bring herself to write another word. Her hands trembled as she deleted the file before handing the clipboard back to the receptionist.
She left the building – still as two people, not one.
Chapter 71
FLICK, ALDEBURGH, SUFFOLK
Rap music blasted from each of the speakers placed throughout Elijah’s home. Although not to her more pop-orientated taste, Flick didn’t mind as his favoured genre helped him to concentrate as he worked. And while he was upstairs putting the finishing touches to the marble sculpture for his forthcoming exhibition, Flick filled her time rearranging his kitchen cupboards and throwing away anything approaching its use-by date.
Quite why, she didn’t know, as the twice-weekly cleaning service Elijah employed had only visited yesterday. But earlier, she had also cleaned out his fridge and washed all his cushion covers. She stopped suddenly. ‘Am I nesting?’ she said aloud and, for the first time, she didn’t automatically consider pregnancy a negative thing. She dismissed the question: it was far too early for that instinct to have surfaced.
Carrying a child had stirred up many an emotion in her, including thinking about the family she’d cast aside in London and how excited they’d be for her if they knew. She wondered what they thought as they scrolled through her Facebook photographs which suggested she was living a carefree life backpacking around the world. Her only regret was not saying goodbye.
Flick’s dilemma over Elijah and the baby weighed heavy on her mind. She wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy from him for long. Even so soon, her stomach was beginning to harden and in a few weeks, it would start to protrude. He had a right to know that he was to become a father, but what else should he know about the woman expecting his baby?
The music stopped and moments later, Elijah descended the staircase. ‘I’m driving over to Snape to pick up some canvases,’ he said and gave her a peck on the cheek.
‘What, now?’ she asked, her face paling at the prospect of being left alone. The murder of Karczewski and two Minders left her constantly on edge.
‘I’ll be a couple of hours at the most.’
‘I can come with you if you like?’
Elijah’s eyebrows knitted. ‘I know I keep asking this, but are you sure you’re okay?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘It’s as if you’ve been struggling to relax lately. I see you when we’re curled up on the sofa together and you’re twitching your legs or biting the insides of your cheeks. Most people return from spa breaks refreshed but you’ve been like a cat on hot bricks for weeks.’
His canny observations caught her off-guard. ‘No, I’m fine,’ Flick replied.
‘Has this got something to do with the exhibition tomorrow? You said large crowds make you uncomfortable. I won’t be offended if you’ve changed your mind and don’t want to come.’
‘No, I do want to, it’s your big night. Just as long as you don’t expect me to appear in front of the cameras, I’ll be all right.’
‘Okay. We’ll only have to stay a couple of hours in Birmingham and then we can head back to the hotel and make a weekend of it.’
‘And before that, you won’t let me see what else you’ve been working on up at your studio in the old church?’
‘Nope, but I can’t wait for your reaction.’
Elijah winked and closed the door behind him. His car had yet to exit the drive when Flick manually locked all the doors to the house, closed the windows and turned on the outside perimeter alarm. Only then could she try and relax. She lay across the sofa, her knees raised close to her chest, staring out towards the sea.This would be a good place to raise you, she told her baby.If we spent the rest of our lives here, I wouldn’t complain.
A woman Flick didn’t recognise caught her attention outside. She was hovering a little too long on the sandy path separating Elijah’s house from the pebbled beach. And she was giving the house more than just a casual glance. She wore a blue T-shirt, mirrored sunglasses and jeans, and her dark hair was tied back in a ponytail. She was holding her phone up towards the property, as if recording it. Flick sat upright. ‘House, privacy glass,’ she ordered and the windows switched from opaque to mirrored.
