All Your Fears

by Peter Hodgson

  ‘Kim here. Can I speak to Andy?’

  ‘Hang on a minute. I’ll see if I can find him.’

  She waited patiently, listened to background chatter. Eventually, a breathless Andy Sachs answered. ‘Kim, I’ve just come down from the first floor.’ He took several deep breaths. ‘I must be getting old … What’s the problem?’

  ‘I’ve twisted my ankle, Andy.’

  ‘Oh, dear. We have a busy day ahead of us. How did you twist your ankle?’

  ‘I took the dog for a walk last night. I tripped when I stepped off the kerb. It’s not badly damaged.’

  ‘We shall have to struggle along. Have you seen a doctor?’

  ‘No. I’m sure I’ll be fine in a couple of days. I apologise for the inconvenience.’

  ‘It’s nothing to brood over. You take it easy. Come in next Monday if you feel up to it. I’ll see if one of the lads can assist. I want you back here as soon as you’re fit. Let me know if it worsens.’

  ‘Thank you, Andy. You’re a good man. Maybe I’ll see you on Monday.’

  She breathed a sigh of relief. If Denise had taken the call, Kim doubted she would have been allowed to continue her job at the hotel.

  She fished for the current diary amongst the chaos on the table, flicked through the pages until she came to the relevant dates. With a steady hand, she wrote entries referring to the distress she had suffered during the last couple of days. She’d always kept her diary up to date, and included important details and the trivia associated with her everyday activities. She drew a line under the last sentence, lit a cigarette and considered what to do with herself during the next four days, confident in being well enough to return to work. If there was a residual pain she would make the effort. Denise would be fuming if she overdid the sick-leave routine.

  The idea of returning to work prompted a weary sigh. Another week doing the same mundane jobs, polishing and hoovering rooms and corridors whilst keeping a lookout for the contrary wife with her catty remarks. Denise was as unchanging as the spots on a leopard. Kim wasn’t fond of the woman and had the impression Andy felt the same way. He’d almost perfected the art of knowing how to avoid her.

  Kim sucked her cigarette to a stump and made her way to the bathroom. She took her pyjamas off, turned the shower on, adjusted the temperature and stood beneath the powerful jets of water. They cascaded down her body, calming her and washing away the sweat of a sleepless night. She stood there for five minutes, sliding the soap over her skin, working her fingers down her torso and beyond.

  There was a time when she couldn’t take a shower – a period during which she only felt safe in a hot bath. Hitchcock’s famous shower scene had stayed with her for a long time. A woman takes her last shower. The relentless stabbing is accompanied by the piercing tone of the violins. Unforgettable.

  She towelled herself, sat on the bed and dried her auburn hair whilst brushing it. Back in the bathroom, she smoothed makeup over her oval face, enough to hide the scratches and freckles she had always hated. She brushed her hair again, applied mauve lipstick and a thin layer of mascara which harmonised with the autumn-chestnut colour of her eyes. She took a step backwards, checked her appearance, gave a quick nod. ‘It should do for another day.’

  Grey fleece pants, crepe t-shirt and a hooded fleece jacket lay waiting on the bed. She dressed quickly and chose a pair of laceless plimsolls instead of the usual trainers.

  Smarty waited for her at the foot of the stairs. She made a fuss of him. ‘Not today my little man. I can’t take you anywhere for a few days. Not to worry. You’ll have to play in the garden, won’t you?’

  The sound of Lauren’s front door slamming shut enticed her to go outside. To her surprise and delight, Lauren herself was passing by the house.

  ‘I’m surprised to see you,’ Kim said.

  ‘I’m taking another day’s leave. I need to catch up on some shopping and go to the bank. Are you taking the day off?’

  Kim limped several steps towards the pavement. ‘I’ve hurt my ankle.’

  ‘Yes, I can see. What happened?’

  ‘I’ll tell you when I have more time. If I’d known you were off today I would have made different arrangements’

  ‘I only decided this morning. There’s so much to do. Where are you off to?’

  ‘Visiting a friend. I’ve ordered a taxi. It should be here in a minute. I’m not walking anywhere till this pain goes away.’

  ‘Have a nice day, and look after yourself. See you soon. Bye.’

  Lauren swept her hair off her face and walked off. Kim fixed her gaze on the swing of her firm, round bottom.

  ***

  Radiating away from the heart-beating centre of Eaton Cross, its character changed from an area rich in history and curiosities to a banal symmetry of depressing, grey streets. Kim was bemused by the unnecessary route the taxi driver had taken and confused as to where he was heading. At the end of the journey, he twisted his body around and held out his broad, leathery hand.

  ‘Are you sure this is the right road?’ Kim asked.

  He raised his eyebrows, cocked his head to one side. ‘This is where you asked me to take you. Four pounds and fifty pence.’

  She rummaged inside her bag, gave him the fare and a look of contempt.

  House Number Two was only a few yards away. Kim checked the street name to make sure she was at the correct location. Her gaze captured the filthy curtains that matched the dreariness of the building. She pressed the button for the first-floor occupant. A click was followed by a sound like an off-kilter radio. ‘Who is it?’ a voice asked.

  ‘Kim. Is that you, Emma?’

  The lock was activated, allowing her access. She walked along the drab hallway, its walls showing recent signs of repair. Coming down the creaky stairs was a young woman wearing a long, black leather coat and low-heeled studded boots. Black liquid liner ran from the corners of her eyes. Purple highlights emphasised her spiky, black hair. Her stubby nose was home to two red studs. Kim moved to one side. The woman passed without speaking or looking at her and slammed the door on her way out.

  The stale stink coming from the ground-floor tenants’ living quarters hit Kim’s nostrils. A trio of sound, coming from their room, filled the oppressive atmosphere: hollow music from a CD player, the tuneless singing of a man, and the hacking cough of a woman.

  Kim climbed the stairs and walked along a sticky, brown carpet fused with the floorboards beneath it. The handle on the door to the flat was attached by a loose screw. She pressed the handle and it swung open on its own. She was greeted by a pungent, sweet smell she was once familiar with. The flat was as drab as the hallway. A radio sat on a mounted shelf, blasting out Will Young’s, ‘Leave Right Now.’ An empty bookcase looked out of place and concealed a spreading damp patch on the wall.

  Emma switched the radio off and resumed her curled-up position on the manky, patched-up sofa. She was the same age as Kim but looked ten years older. Her protruding brown eyes and thin lips gave her an unceasing look of aggression.

  Kim stepped over a scattering of Batman jigsaw pieces, moved a toy robot and sat down.

  ‘Good to see you again,’ Emma said.

  ‘And you. I thought it was time I came to see you. Do you know when we last had a drink together?’

  Emma twisted her mouth and said, ‘No, I can’t remember.’ She laughed, raised her hand to her mouth and blew a kiss at Kim.

  ‘Nearly six months, Em.’

  ‘Six months? You’re looking good girl. I haven’t been anywhere lately. I’m stuck in here most of the time. Do you want a drink?’

  ‘Why not? I’ll have a glass of wine if you have some.’

  She raised her skinny frame off the sofa and walked barefoot to the kitchen. Kim followed.

  ‘Look at my new wipe board,’ she said, pointing. ‘Comes in handy. I wouldn’t be without one. I can’t remember stuff for the life of me so I write it all down.’

  Kim read the reminders: cheese slices, pizza,
tea, plastic container, shoes for Samuel. Emma hummed a tune and poured Echo Falls into two cracked cups.

  ‘Sam at school, Em?’

  She gave her a sidelong glance and returned to the living room. ‘He is, but I’m not happy.’ Kim asked her what the problem was. ‘The Mulligans down the road. Have you heard of them?’

  ‘I don’t know anybody round here apart from you.’

  ‘That kid of theirs – Jessica Mulligan – plays with Sam at school. She keeps coming round here wanting to see him. She’s a bonny girl, but filthy and full of nits. The whole family are filthy. Sam’s caught nits twice off her.’

  ‘Nits are a thing of the past.’

  ‘They aren’t, and the stuff you buy at the chemists …’ She let out a long-suffering sigh. ‘You pay five quid for the crap stuff and it doesn’t work, see. If you want to kill the little fuckers it costs ten quid. Sam’s hair is dead short now. Job sorted. Yeah?’

  ‘I’m not so sure.’

  ‘You wouldn’t know. You have no kids. Kids cost money.’

  How ironic Emma should mention the filthy Mulligan family, and yet her living accommodation was far from clean and tidy. Even if Emma had no kids, Kim doubted she would be living in accommodation as clean and tidy as Lauren’s home. The two of them were worlds apart, yet likeable in different ways.

  ‘Have you seen much of Doug?’ Kim asked.

  Emma’s mouth stretched wide. Her eyebrows sank. ‘He comes and goes as he pleases.’ She threw her head back, laughed and said, ‘He brings the goodies back with him. I keep telling him he needs to be careful. He’s pushing his luck. The situation is tricky.’

  Kim took a gulp of the fruity wine, and asked, ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They’re watching him and his so-called mates, too. Don’t say a word to anyone. Keep it quiet. You’ve been there yourself. You mentioned it once when we were in Potters Wheel … We haven’t been there for months. I’m desperate for a night out but Doug wouldn’t want to look after Sam. I’d have to ask Alexis. She lives down the street.’

  ‘Slow down, Em. Who is watching Doug?’

  ‘The police, right? They’re onto him for certain. I don’t think they’ll be able to pin him down though. Go on, finish your wine.’

  Kim finished the drink. Emma refilled her cup. ‘Nice wine, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Oh, my God, there they go again. Can you hear them?’

  Kim heard nothing until a moan broke the silence. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Same time every afternoon. I don’t know how they do it. It’s them two in the flat below.’ Kim made a wry smile. ‘Yes, they’re at it again,’ Emma went on. ‘She’s a grumpy old hag, and he looks like Quasimodo – the old cunt. What they see in each other is beyond me.’

  ‘Two of a kind, eh?’

  ‘Yeah. Are you going to come and see me again soon?’

  ‘You really are desperate for a night on the town.’

  ‘I am. You never know, we might bump into Doug. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was with another woman – a slag.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m going to stay in Eaton Cross. I might have to consider where I’m going to live.’

  ‘There’s worse places. So, what’s been bothering you?’

  Kim sat in silence for a while, then recounted the car incident on Parson Lane.

  Emma shrugged her shoulders, and managed, ‘It’s nowt to worry over. Dickheads with nowt better to do.’

  Kim grimaced. ‘I was scared shitless, Em. As the car came closer and closer I ran away and fell. Didn’t you notice me limping when I came in?’

  ‘Can’t say I did. Anyway, you’re alive and okay. The world is full of pissheads. Somebody was looking for a bit of fun. They don’t care what they do. If I were you I’d forget it and carry on with what I was doing.’

  They chatted aimlessly for half an hour. Kim stood and said she had to go.

  ‘What’s the rush?’

  ‘I have some shopping to do.’

  ‘Before you go …’ Emma gave her a cigarette case. ‘Have one of those. It will make you feel better.’ Kim counted five tightly-rolled joints. ‘Tempted?’ Emma said.

  ‘Nothing is more tempting than temptation itself … No thanks. I don’t want to smoke that shit again.’

  Emma indulged herself, drew heavily on the joint, and sang, ‘When will I see you again?’

  ‘Soon, I hope. Be good, if you can.’

  ***

  The walk to the open market wasn’t as painful as she thought it would be. She smiled inwardly. Maybe the effect of the wine had eased the pain.

  The market was busy for the time of year. Folk from miles around went there to shop and browse. Many gastronomes were seduced by the cured pastrami, treacle-cured bacon, local cheese and coombe honey. During the holidays, children gathered in front of Thackeray’s Olde Sweets stall. Kim mingled with the visitors and residents standing beside the varied stalls with their striped canopies. The self-assured voices of butchers and fishmongers pierced the unbroken chatter of customers, many of them searching for a good bargain.

  She weaved her way to the pet stall without anybody standing on her foot. A Springer Spaniel made a fuss of her. Its playful advances were interrupted by a boisterous Jack Russell. She waited her turn, bought a dozen dental chews and a bag of knuckle bones. The toys and goodies on display prompted her to add a collar and lead to her purchase. She edged her way through the group of pet lovers and walked over to the sweets stall. Smelling the air reminded her of a shop mum used to take her. Fond memories. A bag of coconut whirls was all she wanted. One for now, the rest for later. She checked the time and decided to go home. On passing the café, a poster on the window of a door seized her attention.

  Kerry Halpin had gone missing two months earlier on Saturday, January 28. She was twenty-three years old. Kim was spooked by her shoulder-length, tousled black hair, oval face and blue eyes. A sensation of unease whisked inside her. Her delicate fingers tightened around the plastic shopping bag. She turned away from the window, walked a few paces and paused.

  Hideous images flashed inside her head like stills from a horror film.

  Chapter Five

  ‘You’re going to be late for your meal,’ Andy Sachs said. A smile thickened the wrinkles on each side of his mouth.

  Kim wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and slowly exhaled. ‘I’ve nearly finished, Andy. I need to go over this carpet again with the hoover. It shouldn’t take long.’

  Andy inspected the room and nodded his approval. Kim allowed a smile to cross her lips and said, ‘I haven’t seen you all week, not since Monday morning. I haven’t seen your wife, either. I don’t want to see her, if you understand.’

  ‘Perfectly, my dear. I’ve been out of town. Business matters to attend to. Important ones too. It’s been a trying week and I’m glad to be back at the hotel. I can’t stand travelling here and there.’

  ‘At least you’ve come back safe and well.’

  He gave her a brown envelope. ‘Your wages, Kim … There’s a bonus for you to spend – a treat for Easter. Tempus fugit.’ Kim gave a puzzled look. ‘Time flies. We’re already in the middle of April,’ he explained.

  ‘Oh, right. Thank you so much.’

  Kim ran the noisy machine over the plush carpet and completed the task. Andy remained in the room. ‘I’ll put it away for you. You cut along whilst the weather’s fine. You know how unpredictable it can be … By the way, how’s your ankle?’

  ‘Much better, thanks. See you soon.’

  ***

  Markham’s café was winding down for the day. Closing time on Saturdays was five o’ clock. Thanks to Andy’s kindness, Kim had enough time to order and devour a long-awaited meal. She studied the menu. Her taste buds tingled with anticipation.

  ‘Have you been busy, Kim?’

  Kim turned around. Paula was standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

  ‘Yes, the Easter period has attracted a lot of guests.’

  ‘No rest
for the wicked, as they say … Gillian, take her order.’

  The waitress stood by Kim’s table, notepad and pencil at the ready. Kim considered and twisted her mouth to one side. ‘I’ll have sweet potato, roasted peppers with the herbs and mozzarella cheese.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘A mug of tea and a piece of your delicious Black Forest gateau, please.’

  ‘I’m sorry to tell you all the Black Forest has gone. We have the white chocolate cheesecake, and I believe it’s very tasty. Would you care to try some?’

  ‘Yes, I will. Thank you.’

  She jotted down the order and hurried into the kitchen.

  It took a while for Kim to realise her phone was ringing. She fumbled inside her jeans pocket, inwardly cursing in her effort to retrieve it. A look of worry stole across her face. She read a ‘missed call’ message alert. Veronica, her sister, had tried to contact her.

  Veronica was living on the outskirts of Grenthorpe the last time she had spoken to her. Where was she now? Kim’s head filled with questions, and she could only guess at the reasons for the unwanted call.

  The meal arrived sooner than expected. Her appetite had all but gone. She struggled with the main course. The cheesecake slipped down easily enough. She paid at the counter, took her drink outside, sat at one of the round, mosaic tables and lit a cigarette.

  The two sisters hadn’t spoken to each other for several years. Their childhood days had been a period of unappeasable hostility. Kim rarely thought of their upbringing. When she did, images of bruised cheeks, torn clothing and used needles surfaced. If only their relationship hadn’t been as troublesome. All Kim ever wanted from her was some degree of compassion and love.

  She took a long drag of the cigarette. The burning smoke calmed her for a few seconds and was followed by momentary dizziness. She breathed deeply, taking in the warm fresh air … and the inevitable happened. She pressed the receiver button, listened to men talking and laughing in the background. ‘Who’s calling?’