by steve higgs
Jack started to get up. I waved him to stop. ‘Stay there, Jack. I prefer you at my feet.' He did as instructed. ‘How are your testicles?'
‘Recovered, thank you very much.’ He replied brightly. It seemed he wasn’t holding a grudge for last night.
‘Tell me about the supposed alien spaceship.’
‘Not supposed, Amanda, love.’ Uncle Knobhead clambered to his feet. ‘Wait until you see it.’
‘I'm going to the office. I will look at it there.' I was enjoying being in charge. I had forgiven Uncle Knobhead for putting a tracker on my car, but now he had messed it up again by breaking into my flat while I slept, rather than knock on the door as a sane person would. We would have a little chat about it later which he would not enjoy. I was going to make them dance to my tune for that matter. I needed nothing from them, but Jack and therefore by proxy, Uncle Knobhead, both believed they needed me.
I was already on my way down the stairs. ‘Should we follow?’ Uncle Knobhead asked, still standing on the landing.
‘Come on, Norbert.’ Answered Jack, jovially, his seemingly irrepressible mood buoyant again. He rushed down the stairs, passing me as he went, then chivalrously opened my car door for me when I plipped it unlocked.
I almost smiled and thanked him, then remembered that I wanted to kick him in the nuts again and yanked the car door closed, almost catching his fingers in the process. I couldn’t deny that my interest was piqued though. I wanted to see what evidence they had and who the Polish driver was.
I peeled out of the carpark before Jack and Uncle Knobhead got into Jack’s car but wasn’t concerned about them. They would find their own way to the office.
Filtering into the traffic out of Maidstone, I called Patience. There was a chance she wasn’t up since she was still taking time off, but I had a task that would be more fun with her along.
The call connected, and her voice exploded onto the line. ‘Yo, skinny white girl. Whatcha doing?’
‘Good morning, Patience. I am on my way to work.’
‘Still investigating aliens?’
‘I am actually. I have two college boys I need to speak with later, I thought you might like to tag along and maybe get some lunch afterward.'
I heard her stifle a yawn. ‘What time do you need me?’
‘Not for a couple of hours.’ I heard another voice in the background. ‘Where are you?’ Then my senses caught up with me. ‘Oh, God, you’re with someone. Sorry.’
‘I’m at home, dummy.’ Sensing my embarrassment, she added, ‘Now don’t worry about interrupting Patience. I was just giving him a few minutes to catch his breath anyway. I need an hour, so collect me when you are ready.’
She disconnected.
Patience went through men with such regularity that I doubted she even bothered to learn their names half the time. The two of us had very little in common. Our attitudes toward men, life, work, career were all poles apart, but I loved her like the sister I never had.
We hadn’t seen each other for a few days. Since I left the police service, we no longer spent time with each other through work and had to find time to do things together. We were going out tomorrow night but there would be a dozen other girls out with us and no opportunity to talk. Lunch by ourselves was appealing.
I hadn’t seen Brett last night as we had planned and now, I was out Saturday night so wouldn’t see him then either. Could I take him to the girl’s night with me? I toyed with the idea for about half a second until I ran through the scenario of him meeting Patience. I doubted our relationship was strong enough for that yet. Maybe after the wedding.
Joking aside, I wanted to see him tonight. I thumbed a button on my steering wheel to activate the phone and spoke his name into the microphone. It autodialled his number.
‘Good morning, sexy.’ His deep, manly voice instantly sent sparks through me. ‘I missed you last night.’
‘I missed you too.’ I lied. I had just about managed to brush my teeth before I fell into bed. I had been asleep less than five minutes after getting home and hadn’t had time to think about him and what we could have been doing. ‘I needed to call you about Saturday.’
‘Yes.’ He murmured. ‘I wanted to talk to you about Saturday as well. About how I am going to use one hand to pin you against the wall as I kiss your neck. I’m going to make sure you cannot escape as I rip off your…’
‘I am out Saturday!’ I interrupted quickly. I could feel my body beginning to react to his whispered dirty talk.
‘Oh.’ He said, disappointment heavy in his voice. ‘I thought you said you were seeing me.’
‘Yes, I did. Sorry. When you called last night, all I could think about was getting you into my bed and I forgot that I have a girls’ night out in Maidstone. It’s been planned for weeks.’
‘A girls’ night out, huh? That doesn’t sound like the kind of event I can tag along to.’
‘No, sorry.’
‘Well, I can’t blame you for having a life. Amanda, I want to say something. It has been bubbling inside me for a while now and I know over the phone isn’t the right setting for it, but if I don’t get it out, I might burst.’
‘Okay.’ I replied, suddenly nervous.
‘Amanda, I think you are amazing.’ He started. This was going well. ‘I was so upset when I thought you were seeing someone else, that even when I was in Costa Rica, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.’
‘Okay.’
‘I'm not finished.' He insisted gently. I folded my top lip over my bottom one to stop myself from speaking. ‘I want you to know that I am falling for you. I can't control it. I have never had this before, never felt feelings like this before.' My heart was pounding in my chest. ‘I wanted you to know that. I doubt we are on the same page. I worried about telling you in case I scared you away, but it's done now.' He lapsed into silence.
How on earth do I reply?
‘Me too.’ I squeaked. I couldn’t explain how I felt at the moment. Lighter than air? Giddy? Something like that.
‘Amanda, I want to see you again. We both have busy lives, let’s make time for each other. I will be available when you are, even if I have to cancel a flight.’
I briefly considered driving directly to his office in Dartford, so I could shag him on his desk. Allowing my horniness to rule my life, make me late for work and all the deceptiveness that would have to go with it was not a road I would let myself go down though.
‘Tonight. How about tonight.’
‘Text me a time to pick you up and I will be there.’
‘Okay.’
‘There’s one more thing.’ He said. ‘Something I want you to consider.’
‘Yes?’ He was clearly holding back from saying it for some reason.
‘You don’t need to work. I can take care of you.’
‘What?’ I wasn’t sure I had heard him correctly. It had sounded like he suggested I quit my job and have him pay my bills.
‘You don’t have to work, Amanda. We never talk about it, but I earned more during this conversation than you earn all year. I’m not bragging. It is just how it is. If you wanted to be done with paying bills and…’
‘I’m going to stop you right there, Brett.’ I was failing to keep the irritation from my voice.
‘I’m sorry.’ He shot back instantly. ‘I have overstepped.’
Damned right you did.
‘Please forget I brought it up.’ He bid me good day, promised to be waiting and let me go.
In the quiet of the car, I thought about him. His comment about not having to work was troubling but at least he had withdrawn it rather than push the concept. I was too independent to be a kept woman. Ignoring that though, I was falling for him and it was mutual. I shook my head in a physical act to break my train of thought.
Get a grip, Amanda.
I needed to find out more about him. If this was how we felt already, I needed to have a proper conversation about life and kids and plans. If there was a deal breaker o
ut there, I wanted to find it now, not six months after the honeymoon.
My musings had taken me all the way to work where I parked my car in what I had already come to think of as its usual spot. I opened the back door with a key and closed it behind me. As the door closed, I saw Jack’s car swing into the carpark. They could come to the front door.
I silently acknowledged that I was taking my anger over their behaviour further than I needed to. I could have held the door for them. I would consider calming down if they didn’t do anything to annoy me in the next half hour.
‘Hi, James.’ I called out as I went into the office.
‘Good morning, Amanda.’ His voice came back. ‘There are clients to see you.’
I had called out to James as I came into the office but had gone into my office to hang up my coat and put down my handbag so hadn’t seen the couple huddled on one sofa. I walked over to them now.
‘Good morning.’ I offered them my hand as they both stood to meet me. ‘Amanda Harper. How may I help you?’
The pair had been holding hands and projected the familiarity that one sees with long-married couples. He looked to be about fifty years old and was balding and had a surprisingly round pot-belly protruding from his ill-fitting suit. Next to him, his wife bore no makeup and had styled her hair in a manner that I assumed was easy to keep. It was short with a square-cut fringe. She wore slacks and a coat and running shoes on her feet and looked barely feminine.
He spoke for both of them, ‘Maurice Brown and this is my wife Shelagh.’
James had left his desk and joined us by the sofas. ‘Maurice and Shelagh have a zombie cat.' He explained. I glanced at him, but he was carefully avoiding betraying any emotion or opinion in his neutral expression.
‘Did you bring it with you?’ I asked, looking around the floor for a carrier.
‘Oh, goodness no.’ Maurice replied shocked. ‘No, we can’t.’
I said, ‘Oh.’ And waited for him to expand. He wasn’t going to though and his wife was yet to speak so I asked, ‘Why is that?’
‘Because it's dead.' Mrs. Brown revealed in a dread tone.
‘Um.’ I said. It was all I could come up with as a reply.
‘It died two weeks ago.' James explained, once again providing some background facts they had already given. Tempest always said he didn't get many drop-ins. Usually, people emailed or called, but we only moved to this office three days ago so perhaps our position on the High Street would attract more clients that would see the sign outside and decide to pop inside.
Maurice picked up the narrative once more. ‘Mogsy, that's the cat's name, died two weeks ago yesterday, but a week after he died, he started reappearing in our garden again.'
‘Are you sure it’s the same cat?’ I asked the obvious question.
‘Absolutely.' Snapped Mrs. Brown. ‘Same collar, same eyes but it looks dead now and it hisses at me whenever I try to get near it.'
Listening to Mrs. Brown was creeping me out though her zombie cat sounded like most other cats to me. ‘Do you have a picture?' I asked her.
She rummaged in her handbag. Behind her, the office front door opened again as Jack, Uncle Knobhead and Bob came in. ‘James could you escort these gentlemen to my office please?’
As he dealt with them, Mrs. Brown continued to rummage. ‘Oh, here you are.' She said as she took a small white envelope from her bag. It contained two photographs. The first was of her with a large black cat in her arms. She looked to be a decade younger, but the haircut and dress sense was the same. The cat looked young and healthy with a lustrous coat of jet-black fur.
The second photograph was of a manky, flea-bitten cat sitting at the foot of a garden fence. Its lips were drawn back in a classic cat's hiss and it looked ready to take someone's face off. I got what she was saying about it looking dead. It looked dirty as if it had just been dug up. It had a mangled ear and one eye looked to be milky from cataracts. It looked old.
The stand out feature for me though was that it wasn't even the same colour as Mogsy. It was a mottled grey tabby cat.
I held the two pictures next to one another and showed them to the couple. Trying to keep any bewildered amusement from my voice I questioned again whether they were sure it was the same cat.
‘Of course, it's the same cat.' Snapped Mrs. Brown, irritation spiking. ‘Why do people keep asking if it is the same cat?'
I had to point out the obvious. ‘Because they don’t look even slightly similar. One is black, and one is a tabby.’
‘Maurice we are leaving.’ She announced as she snatched the photographs back from my unresisting hands.
Maurice just looked lost, but he moved soon enough when she shoved him toward the door. ‘Oh, err, thank you for your time.' He managed weakly as he was propelled backward.
I could hear his wife berating him for bothering to thank me as the door swung shut. I wondered how often we would have to deal with crazy people walking in off the street. When they emailed, we could respond to politely advise that we would not be taking the case. It was less easy when they were stood in front of you and you had to listen to their story to determine that their case was a waste of time.
Tempest was clear that he didn’t want the firm to investigate ridiculous cases. There were enough ones with merit around, that we didn’t need to charge people money for the ridiculous ones.
James was making coffee for my guests. ‘Do you want one?’ He asked, holding up a cup.
‘Yes please.’ I helped him carry the cups back to my office.
As he set the two he was carrying down, he said, ‘I have some information pertaining to the case when you are ready.’ I also had more that I needed him to research, not least of which was the cryptic message I got from the hoody last night. James didn’t wait around to see what Jack had to show me though.
Bob had placed his camera on my desk and was holding an HDMI cable. ‘Alright if I plug it in?’ He asked while miming plugging it in.
‘Sure.’
I was curious enough to let Jack show me his footage if that was what I was about to see.
‘This is the raw footage from Milosz Kyncl. He took it on his iPhone yesterday late afternoon, thankfully before it got dark.’
On the screen was a grass bank, which the person holding the phone was scaling. There was a voice rabbitting away in what I guessed was Polish. The grass bank was only a few feet high and dropped away on the other side, where a wide band of low-level meadow led to a woodland. Right in the middle of the shot was an alien spaceship.
What else could it be? The unseen Polish driver's voice was jabbering faster now, excitement and nerves showing. The phone was not being held steady as he moved about but when he stopped moving the… spaceship, might as well call it that, was very clear.
It was shiny like chrome, about six or seven feet tall at a guess and maybe ten feet long. There was a thick mist around it like you get with dry ice and lights beneath the vessel were illuminating the mist in an eerie way.
Then a figure emerged from behind the vessel, and the driver threw himself back down the bank to escape. The camera tumbled with him as he rolled over and over then came upright as he found his feet and stood. He was babbling in Polish still as he climbed into the cab of his truck, the screen suddenly showed the ceiling of the truck cabin’s interior – he had put it down facing up. We heard the engine roar to life then a hand covered the screen and the footage cut off as he stabbed the button to end the video recording.
I had been leaning toward the screen, engrossed in what I was seeing. Standing up straight, I caught Jack’s expression – he looked triumphant.
‘We have over three million hits on the website since I uploaded some short clips of the footage last night. Bob and I worked on the editing all night ready for when the press asks for it. The phone is going to ring any second.’ He claimed, taking out his phone and placing it on my desk.
All four of us looked at it. Nothing happened.
‘Any m
inute.’ Jack corrected himself.
Still nothing.
‘Dammit.’ He swore.
I had to admit that the footage was compelling. The world would want to speak with Milosz Kyncl and I wondered if Jack had considered that he might not be the star of this. Telling myself that it was not a spaceship I was seeing told me what though? If it wasn’t a spaceship, it was a…
I couldn’t answer that yet, but I was going to.
‘So, what are you going to do with this?’ I asked Jack.
He flared his eyebrows as he grinned. ‘Propel myself to international stardom, babe. The next episode of the show will air tonight to millions of live-streaming viewers. You can still be a part of it, you know.’
Uncle Knobhead spoke up, ‘Go on, Amanda. It’ll be really cool for us to both be on the show.’
Jack gave him a sideways glance. Jack had no intention of putting my scruffy, dopey Uncle on his show. He was just using him in the belief that it would influence me.
‘I don’t think so.’ I replied.
‘That clearly wasn’t a no.’ Jack replied chirpily.
‘It most certainly wasn’t.’ Added Uncle Knobhead.
‘No.’ This time I made the answer clear.
Jack heard my answer, glanced at me, grinned again and said, ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’
Bob was unplugging his camera and they were packing up to leave.
‘Where are you going?’ I asked suspiciously.
‘To prepare, babe. If the press doesn’t call today, they will after tonight’s show.’ His confidence was infectious.
I stepped out of the way to let them pass.
My Uncle stopped as he drew level with me at the door to my office. ‘I’m going to go with Jack. Is that okay?’
God, yes.
What I thought and what I said were not the same thing. ‘Of course, Uncle. I hope he lets you have a spot on his show.’
As Jack walked away, I thought of a question I wanted to ask him. something that had been troubling me from the start. ‘Jack.’ He turned to see what I wanted, his ever-hopeful expression probably expecting me to say I had changed my mind and would love to be on his show. ‘How is it that you came to be at Brompton Farm on Monday? How did you know about any of it?’