Amy Cooper Forever

by Craig Mullins

  “Thank you.” She said standing.

  “Sit down, I can show myself out.” She grabbed her bag and made her way towards the door, she couldn’t begin to imagine what was going through Evelyn Cooper’s mind at this time. Sian herself had no kids but could not think of a worse thing than losing one. She also couldn’t think of how she would tell a thirteen year old that she would never see her sister again. It would make all of their trivial arguments–as girls do– seem like nothing and she could imagine Hayley would do anything to be able to fight with her big sister once more. Thirteen was a vulnerable age as it was without the added bonus of having to grieve for your sibling.

  EIGHTEEN

  Tuesday 31st October 2017

  It was two o’clock and Hayley knew she had to get things sorted as the girls would be home from school soon, they both attended the same one so walked to and from school together. This wasn’t as bad as it appeared as the secondary school they both attended was less than half a mile from their house. Hayley had grown up on a private estate where her mum still lived; her dad had passed a few years ago. She still missed him and she still missed Amy–her sister. She was married, and had struggled to lose her baby weight even though her girls were now twelve and fifteen, she wasn’t fat by any means, women envied her figure.

  She was getting the house ready for Halloween, the plan was that the girls would go trick or treating with their dad while she would prepare the finishing touches to the evening for neighbours and friends, about fifteen in total. The estate where they lived was a relatively new one off Tolpits lane, not far from the one her mum lived on. She saw her mum every day, either she would go to her or vice versa, but she knew her mum was lonely after the loss of Robert her husband. In fact her mum had left barely fifteen minutes ago. Most of the food was sorted so she decided to go upstairs and decide what she would wear for tonight’s party. Her husband would be wearing his trademark outfit, a bloodstained chef’s tunic, chequered trousers and a toque (his chef’s hat) all the clothes were bloodstained and he carried a bloody meat cleaver to complete the look. Sometimes he would smear blood over his face (costume make-up). The girls loved it when he would chase them round the house with his fake cleaver and tell them he was going to chop them up into little pieces.

  Amy hated it though; she had never told her husband the full details of her sister’s death. He knew that she had been murdered, but she refused to go into the full gruesome details of exactly what had happened. She wasn’t even sure she knew all the details, all she had been told, and this was years later was that Amy’s heart had been removed. She knew nothing of the meal that had been prepared or the assault prior to her death. The only reason she knew about the heart was that a few years after it happened a story was going to be published by one of the tabloids, so her mum pre-empted it by sitting her down and explaining it to her–she was sixteen at the time. It was three years after the gruesome murder. She had been only thirteen at the time of her sister’s death.

  She didn’t think any less of her husband for his insensitivity as she knew that if she told him the truth he would stop immediately, he was so tender and loving and the girls adored him. He would be home around six-thirty, just in time to have a shower and shave, take the girls trick or treating before the guests started arriving around eight. He worked at a private institution for the criminally insane, after giving up a promising career in the police force where he had appeared to be progressing well but from what he had told his wife the day to day stresses of the job had begun to get to him and he had wanted a change.

  The house was situated in a quiet cul-de-sac which sat at the end of a fairly new estate, less than ten years old, they moved here when the girls were young. It was a four bedroomed Georgian looking house of yellow brick, twin bay windows adorned the front with the entrance in the middle–though they never used this door, all comings and goings were through the side door. This was much more convenient as it was the utility room with tiled floor–much better than the cream carpet as you entered the front of the house. Over the weekend they had prepared the gardens, both front and rear with fake tombstones which he had fashioned from polystyrene sheets etched with a soldering iron and sprayed, along with ghosts and ghouls made of old sheets, and pipes. Cobwebs adorned the interior of the house, or at least the two rooms which would primarily be used for the evening.

  When they had bought the house the first thing they did was knock the dining room and kitchen into one which allowed them to have a large central island with a huge marble slab on top. On this Hayley had laid out the food for the evening, once again most of the food ideas hadn’t been hers, it was designed so that the food looked like body parts, there were sausages made to look like entrails, mozzarella sticks resembling cut off fingers and the drinks were going to be served in blood pouches like you saw hanging in an operating room when people needed blood. It was only one day a year and she was happy for her husband to indulge in what appeared to be his favourite holiday, and the girls loved all the blood and guts for some reason.

  Upstairs she looked in her wardrobe and decided that this year she would surprise her husband, she had noticed lately that he didn’t appear to be himself, he would take himself to a different room, he had become almost introverted which wasn’t like him at all. No this year she had decided she would make a big effort for Halloween, a week ago she had ordered a costume online, unsure whether she would have the courage to wear it on the night or not. It consisted of a white dress and red piping with zip up front, it barely came six inches down her thigh and there was a garter and hat to match, it was supposed to be a nurse outfit. She was hoping this would get his attention as they hadn’t been intimate for months now and she missed him. They had always had a physical relationship but this past year he had changed, and she wanted to get the old spark back. She hoped tonight would be the change they needed. She hung the outfit back up in the wardrobe after deciding that she would definitely wear it, but she didn’t want her husband seeing it until the time was right. As she closed the wardrobe she heard the familiar sound of the key in the door downstairs, the girls were home from school.

  “Hi mum” Mercedes shouted up the stairs, she was the oldest at fifteen and although she had many of her father’s features she also had many of her dead Aunt’s too. Her hair and eyes were the spitting image of Amy’s and the crooked front teeth. Her name came from one of her dad’s favourite films ‘License to Drive’ where the love interest was called Mercedes.

  “Hi mum” This time it was Charlotte, three years younger than her sister and she was without doubt her mother’s daughter, in looks, mannerisms and temperament. Hayley and Charlotte both had very slow burning fuses, but god help you if you were in the vicinity when they went off, even more so if you were the cause of the ignition. Her husband and Mercedes on the other hand were as placid as they came, nothing seemed to shake Mercedes. She was like her aunt in so many ways, loved life and believed in living it to its fullest. Hayley missed her sister so much.

  Hayley went downstairs to greet the girls; their bags had been dumped at the foot of the staircase. A ritual they went through every day, she would tell them to take their bags to their room and not to just leave them anywhere. “Have you got any homework?” She asked.

  “Not tonight mum, our teachers said they would leave it today ‘cos it’s Halloween.” Mercedes said.

  “Me neither.” Charlotte piped up straight after her sister.

  “In that case you can give me a hand getting everything ready for tonight if you want.” She looked out of the window at the descending night sky, it had been overcast most of the day but the rain had held off so far. The temperature had also dropped in the last hour or so and she was so glad that it was her husband that would escort the girls round trick or treating tonight. She watches as her beautiful daughters ascend the stairs with their bags, and for the briefest of moments she is transported back to that day when she had returned from school to be confronted by her parents and t
old the awful news of her sister Amy.

  NINETEEN

  Friday 9th July 1993

  It was getting on for three o’clock when DI Sian Price exited ‘Cariad’, the home of the Cooper family, she walked to the car where she could see the figure of PC Philip Thorne sat behind the wheel of the unmarked police car. She composed herself as best she could, she hated days like this and now she had a three plus hour journey back to home–she could really do with a drink. She placed her bag in the boot before settling herself in the passenger seat.

  “How were Mr & Mrs Cooper?” Philip asked.

  “I think it’s going to take time for them to come to terms with it, Mr Cooper looked ill, he took himself off to bed shortly after the ID. It’s their daughter Hayley I feel really sorry for, at the moment she is at school oblivious that there is anything wrong with her sister, and yet in less than an hour she will find out that she will never see or hear her again, that she was murdered while away with friends. How as a thirteen year old do you ever get over something like that?”

  “Youngsters can be resilient, it will take a long time but I’m sure she will get through it.” He said as he drove the car out of the residence and back onto the road. Sian saw a visible improvement in his demeanour as soon as they left the property, the further away they got the calmer and happier he became, she wondered what that was about but put it down to inexperience and a certain amount of empathy towards the family. She found it quite endearing that a young man harboured such feelings, most of her male colleagues were all too quick to show off their bravado.

  Within fifteen minutes they were back on the dreaded M25 and headed home, they’d barely got up to the speed limit when the traffic in front all had their hazard lights on and were rapidly slowing. Philip did the same and let the car coast to a crawl and then to a dead stop. They had just passed junction eighteen so no prospect of getting off the motorway. The sun was hot and the air was humid, not ideal driving conditions. Sian took her jacket off and turned around to place it on the back seat, she couldn’t help notice Philip’s eyes take in the view down her white blouse as she did.

  While they were stationery many of the drivers up ahead were out of their cars and chatting, Sian got on the police radio and tried to ascertain what the issue was. Within a couple of minutes she had her response, a tanker carrying diesel had overturned just before junction nineteen. The emergency services were on the scene and were at present trying to organise removal of traffic to the previous exit. She was told that the road would not be open anytime soon and that when they were eventually off the motorway it might be a good idea to stay in Watford overnight and travel back first thing in the morning. By the time Sian was off the radio Philip was standing outside the car looking up ahead, she got out and walked round the car to join him. “We could be here for a while.” She said.

  “I heard you on the radio, what seems to be the problem?” He asked, she relayed verbatim what she had been told, omitting the possibility of staying over.

  “Depending on when we get off this godforsaken motorway my boss suggested we stay over and head back in the morning, if that is going to cause any problems I’m happy to keep going ‘til we get home. But the brass are picking up the tab so it would seem a shame to pass up their hospitality. Believe me it doesn’t happen very often.”

  “That’s fine by me; I’ve got no plans and no one waiting.” The way he said the last three words made her feel sorry for him. They stood and chatted for at least an hour going over their lives up until that point, favourite films etc. Then traffic started to come towards them on the hard shoulder, Sian realised the police had obviously decided the best option was taking the trapped traffic off at the previous junction.

  “It looks like we could be getting off fairly soon.” She looked at her watch, a little before five. “So hotel or head back? Your choice.” She said, her back still leant against the car and the sun still beating down on her face.

  “Hotel.” Philip said without a moment’s hesitation. He watched her with her sunglasses on, he couldn’t tell where she was looking or even if she had her eyes open against the blinding sun, nevertheless he couldn’t help but stare at her breasts, the outline of her bra clearly visible through the sun soaked blouse. He also couldn’t help the whispers of arousal of her nipples at the mention of the hotel. It was nearly another thirty minutes before the car up ahead started to move and they got back into their car ready to turn around and head back the way they had come.

  They rode in silence to the hotel, and at six-fifteen they arrived at the Hilton hotel on the A41, it would give them easy access to the M25 in the morning. The hotel though a famous brand looked like it had seen better days, the paintwork was beginning to peel in areas, a few bulbs under the portico were missing but it would do for the one night. Sian had called ahead to make sure they had two rooms, which once she’d identified who she was were happy to hold the rooms until they could arrive. Philip pulled the car into the parking space closest to the main entrance. They retrieved the equipment from the boot of the car as they didn’t want anything stolen and carried it into reception.

  In the main reception area were three counters, behind each was a clock set to s different world time zone and stood behind the middle counter was a pretty petite redheaded girl, no more than eighteen and with the palest complexion Sian had ever seen. “Hi, I booked two rooms under the name of Price.”

  “Thank you, I’ll just get your details up.” She smiled at Sian with a look that said ‘I know what you’re here for’ the sly look she gave Philip confirmed it. Sian smiled inwardly at what was going through this young girl’s head. Sian noticed that Philip showed no interest in the girl and yet she was stunning, her hazel eyes and perfect figure would have got a cursory glance from even the meekest of men. Yet whenever she looked at Philip he averted his eyes as if he’d been staring at her. “Yes, we have you in two adjoining rooms, don’t worry the connecting doors can be locked from both sides. Here are your keys, I just need a card imprint for any charges to the room.”

  Sian handed over her card, she’d been told to fill out an expenses form when she got back. “You can put the room charges on the card as well if that’s OK?”

  “That’s not a problem, in which case there is no need to check out in the morning, just drop your keys into that box over there before ten.” She indicated a wooden letter box on the wall with a slot in the top to ‘post’ the key through. “Your rooms are on the second floor, the lift and stairs are just to the left of the reception and I hope you both enjoy your stay.” She went back to arranging whatever paperwork she was fiddling with when they arrived as Sian and Philip made their way over to the lift.

  The elevator was designed to carry no more than four passengers, so with the two of them in there it felt slightly cramped, for the first time Sian smelled his odour, mixed with his aftershave was a masculine smell, not unpleasant almost musky. She was conscious of the sweat running down her spine and the air-conditioning in the lift was making it feel icy cold as it travelled below the waistband of her skirt and into her knickers. The closeness of Philip was making her uneasy, not in a weird way but sexually, it had been a while since she’d been intimate with anyone and she hadn’t realised until this moment how much she had missed it. But she knew that Philip was a PC and a lot younger than her, and it would be a bad idea for anything to happen between them. Not that she believed Philip had any of those sorts of feelings towards her anyway.

  “It’s six thirty now, do you want to meet up in the restaurant at seven for something to eat?” She asked as she handed him his key. They were standing outside her room.

  “OK, I’ll see you down there; it will give me time to have a quick shower.”

  Sian went into her room where she headed straight to the bathroom; a spotlessly clean marble clad room awaited her. She turned on the shower and made sure it was cool water flowing. She realised she’d left her jacket in the car, but that would be fine out there, it was too hot t
o wear it anyway. Leaving her clothes neatly folded she stepped into the small cubicle, the complimentary products would have to suffice for the one night. As she stepped out of the shower goose bumps appeared all over her body, but she felt clean and refreshed. As she picked through her pile of clothes she decided to give her knickers a rinse under the tap and hang them up to dry. It would mean going commando for the evening but at least she would have a relatively clean pair to put on in the morning for the trip back. She tried her blouse on without the bra but decided that would be a step too far. So she left her knickers hanging in the bathroom, her hair still wet and she headed down to the restaurant at five minutes to seven.

  The restaurant was relatively empty, with maybe half a dozen tables occupied, four of which were lone diners, three male and one female all in the tell-tale travelling salesman suits. She spotted Philip over by the bar, and couldn’t help but notice his wet hair a mass of dark curls. He had already set himself up with a pint, as she walked over he got off his stool and asked her what she wanted to drink.

  “Did you put the drink on your room?” She asked, and he gave her a puzzled look.

  “No, it’s ok I’ll get these.” He said.

  “OK, just this one then the rest go on my room so the force can pick up the tab. I’d love a glass of Chardonnay if they have it please.” On hearing voices the bartender came over to service them.

  “Could I get a large glass of Chardonnay please?” He asked the short squat man behind the bar, at the same time he handed over a five pound note.

  “Shall we get a table while it’s still quiet?” Sian asked.

  “Sure.” They carried their glasses over to a table and sat down, within a couple of minutes a young lad in black trousers, and white shirt came over with a couple of menus.