by Chris Lofts
‘Are you OK?’ Ethan said, leaning an elbow on his bench.
‘Yeah. I’ve had better days, but I’ll survive.’ Helix sipped his beer. ‘Sorry about earlier, I just—’
‘I know.’ Ethan nodded. ‘Gonna be weird without the old man around.’
‘You got that right.’ Helix sighed. ‘Anyway, what’s the latest?’
‘Not a lot. They’ve just recovered his body,’ Ethan said, stubbing out his joint. ‘I’ll get the post mortem report as soon as it’s out. There won’t be any surprises.’
‘No?’
Ethan shook his head. ‘According to his bio-monitors, he was alive when he went out of the window. Sorry, Nate.’
Helix perched on the edge of the bench. ‘And why kill the dog, the cat and the bloody fish?’ He sipped his beer. ‘You know he used to walk them together.’ He smiled.
‘The fish?’
‘The dog and the cat, pillock.’
‘I don’t get it,’ Ethan said. ‘The only danger from that toothless mutt was that he might have licked you to death. I’d be more worried about the cat.’ He stood his beer on the bench. ‘And why choose that location? Whoever it was could have tapped him while he was out for a walk. It feels more like a statement of some sort.’
‘Anything on video or from the lift logs?’
Ethan flexed his fingers in his holo-mits and began swiping items across the screens. ‘I’ve got the lift logs here… Hey Sof’, where are we with the video feeds?’
Helix juggled his beer bottle under control as the AI’s reply came over the sound system. ‘Still processing, Ethan. Estimated time to complete three minutes 28 seconds.’
‘What’s with the husky Spanish accent?’
‘Mexican. Sexy, huh?’
‘Whatever floats your boat. The lifts?’
Ethan thumbed open his tobacco tin and took out another joint. ‘Him and his cleaner today and that’s it. He collects any deliveries from the reception or has them sent up to his office but never his pad.’ He struck his lighter and took a long draw. ‘I can go back further but there’s nowhere to hide up there. Apart from the lift, it’s the stairs.’
‘Or the roof.’
‘Covered by the video, like the stairs, so if someone went up, Sofi will flush ‘em out.’
Helix drained the last of his beer and added the empty bottle to the growing detritus of empty food cartons, bottles and overflowing ashtrays. ‘Have you got anything to eat?’
Ethan pointed to the ceiling. ‘Pizza inbound. ETA three minutes.’
Stepping from the lift into the open plan living space, Helix paused. Apart from Ethan’s ‘enhancements’ it had hardly changed from the first time he came there. He ducked around the cargo net that Ethan had installed, claiming it was easier than bear-crawling up the glass and brushed titanium staircase. He ran his hand over the granite breakfast bar that divided the kitchen from the sitting and dining area. The same place where he’d endured coffee with that arrogant prick Justin Wheeler and, later that evening, enjoyed dinner and a glass of wine with Doctor Gabrielle Stepper DBE. That was after he’d placed her under house arrest on suspicion of murder. The allegation turned out to be spurious and once exonerated, she’d chosen a simpler life, away from the limelight. She’d earned it. What was she doing now, at this precise moment? Winters were harsher than they had been years ago. The seasons were more defined again, much to the joy of the remaining climate extremists. He shivered at the thought of her living under canvas or thatch. He’d spent enough time out in the elements. But it probably wasn’t as basic as he imagined.
‘I hope we don’t become strangers.’ That was what she’d written. He should have written back, but the postal system outside the cities was almost non-existent and she’d said she needed time and space. Ormandy’s remarks about getting to know her were true, but he wasn’t going to tell her any more than he had to. They had become close but as ever the mission took priority. What was the old saying? You should never meet your heroes. More bullshit. She was everything he’d imagined and more. In amongst the surprises there was something else, what some might call a chemistry. What the hell did he know? Relationships always came second. Anything that threatened to develop into something meaningful was scuppered by the call of duty. Avoidance was easier. No guilt, no disappointment, no ties.
He ran his hand over the back of his neck. Ethan was downstairs. The place was deserted, yet he had the sense that he was being watched. He listened. His eyes flicked around the apartment. An empty wine bottle and two glasses stood next to the kitchen sink. He arched an eyebrow. Wine wasn’t Ethan’s thing and when he drank anything in a bottle he didn’t complicate it by decanting it into a glass first.
He turned towards the patio doors as the outside lights came on. A delivery drone buzzed from the night sky, deposited the pizzas on the patio table and vanished back into the clouds.
6
Orange sparks floated skyward through the leafless trees on wisps of wood smoke from the embers of the firepit. Gabrielle pulled the roll neck of her homespun pullover up under her ears as she watched the sparks dance and dissolve into the starry firmament. A solitary cloud, carried on a westerly breeze, cast a moonlight shadow amongst the trees, over the thatch and shingle roofs and across the surface of the lazy River Wye.
Plumes of breath seeped between her fingers as she cupped her hands across her mouth and blew onto them. Refilling her lungs, she closed her eyes and relished the earthy freshness of the clean air. An owl hooted its greeting as Gabrielle’s twin sister SJ stepped up onto the wooden decking alongside her.
Gabrielle sighed. ‘I still can’t believe how quiet it is out here,’ she said, as they sat together on the top step looking over the shadowy ruins of Tintern Abbey.
‘I’d have thought you’d have got used to it by now.’ SJ laughed, draping a heavy patchwork quilt around their shoulders. ‘You’re not missing London, are you?’
Gabrielle nipped at her bottom lip. ‘I don’t miss the place, just some of the people.’
SJ nudged her playfully with her shoulder. ‘Anyone in particular?’
‘You take so much for granted in the city. Everything on a plate, at the touch of a screen or in response to a thought.’
‘It’s not impossible to send a letter. Even from out here.’
Gabrielle nodded. ‘I know. But you lot have kept me so busy since we arrived.’
‘Ha! So, it’s our fault then,’ SJ said, pulling the quilt tighter around them and placing her hand on her six-month baby bump. ‘I’m too bloody old for this lark.’
‘Come on. Let’s go inside, it’ll be warmer,’ Gabrielle said, climbing to her feet. ‘And you’re not too old. There are plenty of babies born to women in their forties.’
SJ accepted her sister’s outstretched hand. ‘In the cities maybe,’ she said, following Gabrielle into the log-built school-cum-doctor’s surgery. ‘And amniopods, for those too posh to push, don’t count.’
Flame shadows from the candles danced across the textured walls as Gabrielle added a log to the wood burning stove. The seasoned wood hissed and crackled as SJ settled into one of the fireside chairs. Crossing the room, Gabrielle tucked Lauren’s leg back under the pile of blankets and deer skins tumbling from their bed. She leaned down, smoothed the sleeping eight-year-old’s blonde hair from her face and kissed her lightly on the forehead.
‘Feeling warmer?’ Gabrielle whispered as she took the seat in the dim light next to SJ.
SJ nodded. ‘Is it normal that the baby plays football with your bladder?’
‘Quite normal. Either that or trying to rearrange your ribs.’
Gabrielle squeezed her sister’s hand. ‘It was great to come out in the summer, but I never expected it to be this cold.’ She leaned forward, opened the door of the stove and jostled the burning log with a poker. ‘Still, we’re better off than some.’
‘What happened at dinner earlier on?’ SJ said. ‘One moment you were all smiles and then…�
��
‘It was nothing.’ Gabrielle pursed her lips. ‘Probably me being hyper-sensitive.’
‘Let me guess.’ SJ stretched her legs out and wiggled her toes. ‘Walt and Jess were whining about the school and surgery again.’
Gabrielle shrugged. ‘You and Bo and most of the others have made us feel so welcome and for the first time in ages I feel like I have a purpose in my life.’
‘We needed a school. It was a community decision agreed by the majority. End of. The other school was overcrowded, run by a mad woman and at a mile-and-a-half walk each way, too far for the little ones. And the nearest doctor is even further out. You provide the skills for both, so it’s only right you have somewhere to work and to live.’
‘You’re right.’ Gabrielle smiled. ‘It’s just…’
‘What was that?’ SJ said, glancing towards the school room door.
Gabrielle followed her gaze. ‘I didn’t hear anything. It was probably the—’
SJ held her hand up. ‘There it is again,’ she whispered, sliding to the edge of her seat.
‘I expect the back door’s come unlatched,’ Gabrielle said, resting her hand on her sister’s arm. ‘Sit tight. I’ll see to it.’
The candle-lamp cast a weak pool of light across the floor and up the school room door. Lauren stirred as the door creaked open. Cool air licked around Gabrielle’s ankles as she stepped inside. Too weak to light the entire room, the flame of the lamp lurched threatening to go out. She listened. The room was as silent. She leaned in with the lamp at arm’s length, sweeping a wide arc of dim light around the classroom. The candle was almost snuffed out as she snatched her arm back. ‘Justin!’ she gasped as the light fell across Wheeler’s dishevelled form.
Before Gabrielle’s ex-husband could speak, SJ charged through the door, poker raised over her head. ‘What the hell…?’ she said breathlessly.
Wheeler pulled his hands from under the layers of grimy rags draped over his shoulders. He held them up in a feeble gesture of surrender. ‘Whoa! Easy, SJ.’
‘What are you doing in here?’ Gabrielle said. ‘There’s nothing to steal.’
‘Is that what you think I am, Gabrielle? A thief.’ He shook his head.
‘Well, what are you doing snooping around? If you’ve nothing to hide why didn’t you come through the village?’
Wheeler arched an eyebrow. ‘Can I sit down?’
‘No.’ Gabrielle set the lamp down on her desk. ‘You’re not staying.’
SJ lowered the poker and perched on the edge of the desk beside her sister. ‘What are you doing out after dark on your own?’
Wheeler leaned back against the door. ‘Who said I’m on my own?’
‘We made it clear, we don’t want you and your cohorts anywhere near the village, Justin. You have nothing we want or need.’
‘I’m not here to barter chickens and chestnuts,’ he said, his hands open before him.
‘Well at least you got that message through your thick skull,’ SJ said. ‘Stick around long enough, Justin and you’ll see that folks around these parts don’t take kindly to threats. They have their own ways of dealing with them.’
‘Scary.’ Wheeler feigned fear by dancing his fingers over his lips. ‘I’m here to talk.’ From within the layers of material he pulled out a bottle of red wine and stood it on one of the desks. ‘There’s plenty more where that came from. Glasses?’
‘We’re not interested,’ Gabrielle said. The label on the bottle was familiar. She hated to admit it, but it was the one thing she missed. Winding down with a nice bottle of wine at the end of a busy day. What the hell was she doing? She shook her head. ‘Look. Say whatever it is you want to say and clear off.’
‘I thought we could talk, you know—’
‘No. I don’t know. And there’s nothing to talk about, Justin. I’m here, you’re not and that suits me fine.’
‘It doesn’t have to be like this,’ he said, gesturing around the school room. ‘I have many of the creature comforts we used to enjoy in London.’
SJ snorted. ‘We know all about the kind of creatures you associated with in London.’
‘You could still play teacher and doctor. It’s only a short ride.’
‘All of this might be a game to you, Justin,’ Gabrielle said. ‘This is my life now and I have no plans to change it.’
Wheeler sighed. ‘I know things can’t be quite the same as they were, Gabrielle, but—’
‘What? Forgive and forget.’ She threw her hands up. ‘I think you’ve been picking the wrong kind of mushrooms.’
Lauren called out. ‘Gabrielle.’
SJ rushed to the door and peered through. ‘It’s OK, sweety. Go back to sleep.’
Gabrielle tongued her lip, fighting the fury rising inside her. She stabbed her finger towards the door where SJ waited. ‘That child is motherless because of you,’ she hissed. ‘My best friend is dead, because of you and God knows how many other lives have been ruined because of you. No, Justin. I don’t want to talk. I don’t ever want to see you again, I hate you and no amount of wine or anything else is going to change that. Do you understand?’
‘Wow. That really was a no.’ Wheeler pushed away from the door and rearranged his rags. ‘Let me know if—’
‘I won’t be changing my mind. I should have said all that a long time ago. Now get out.’
He shrugged and pushed the door open. ‘Suit yourself.’ Snow danced on the breeze as he stepped onto the wide veranda.
Gabrielle hurried over, ready to make sure the wooden catch was in place. Nobody had locks. There was no need. Well, there hadn’t been. She snatched up the bottle of wine by the neck and shoved through the door. Wheeler was already half way up the slope.
SJ stayed Gabrielle’s arm before she could launch the bottle after him. ‘Let’s not do anything rash, Sis,’ she said, raising her eyebrows. ‘Have you got a bottle opener?’
Gabrielle shrugged, rubbed her shoulders and pulled the door shut. ‘I’m sure we can find a way.’
Gabrielle found a bottle opener hiding at the back of one of the cutlery baskets. SJ rinsed a pair of jam jars with water from an earthenware jug. They tiptoed back to the fireside and settled into the chairs.
SJ poured the wine. ‘You’re not going to lecture me on the dangers of drinking while pregnant, are you?’ she said, offering a glass to Gabrielle.
They clinked glasses. ‘Cheers.’
‘Not as long as you just stick to one glass.’ The flavours and warmth of the alcohol filled Gabrielle with a deep warm glow that she would have enjoyed more if she hadn’t known where the wine had come from. ‘My God. I’m glad you stopped me. It would have been a complete travesty to have broken that over Justin’s head,’ she said.
SJ nodded and took a roasted chestnut from a carved wood bowl.
Gabrielle stared into her glass. ‘I thought after the trial and divorce I would be free of him.’
‘You are,’ SJ said, splitting the skin of the nut with her teeth.
Gabrielle tossed the fire poker back into the corner a little more firmly than she’d intended. ‘Didn’t stop him finding me here though, did it?’
‘And you sent him packing. Again.’ SJ picked a slither of chestnut skin from her lip. ‘We can always move on. Find somewhere new if he keeps coming back.’
‘Oh no, I couldn’t do that. Not after everything you and Bo have done for Lauren and me. It wouldn’t be fair. You’re settled here.’ She picked a chestnut from the bowl and weighed it in her hand. ‘You didn’t have these sorts of problems until I turned up.’
‘I think Walt’s constant whining has begun to get inside your head. He didn’t actually say that, Sis.’
‘He didn’t have to.’
‘Look. Don’t waste your time thinking about Walt, Justin or his cronies. We used to have problems with wild boar munching their way through the crops.’ SJ patted Gabrielle’s knee. ‘We found a tasty solution for that problem.’
Gabrielle grimaced. ‘J
ustin sausages? I don’t think so.’
‘Jesus, Gabrielle, we’re not bloody cannibals. There are other ways of letting people know they’re not welcome.’
Gabrielle pressed her hands together. The flames danced behind the ornate grill of the burner. ‘Justin was meant to be in halo-confinement, in a numbered tube, not wandering around the countryside.’
‘Friends in low places.’ SJ laughed, tossing the nut skins into the fire. ‘Give it a few months and I expect he’ll worm his way back into London.’
‘Not with those things in his carotid arteries. They explode if he gets within five miles of any cardinal city. He asked me if I could get them out.’
‘There’s your solution. If he shows up again, you could offer to give it a shot. Oops, sorry Justin, my bad, they’ve exploded and blown your head off.’
‘Helix would love—’ A shiver ran down Gabrielle’s back as his name left her lips. She pulled the neck of her pullover over her chin.
‘Helix would love to see Justin’s head blown off or would love something else?’
Gabrielle smiled. ‘It’s getting late. Bo will be wondering where you are.’
‘He knows where I am. Are you OK?’
Gabrielle squeezed SJ’s hand. ‘Christ, I wish he was here, SJ.’
‘He could have written. Like I said, it’s not impossible to send or receive letters.’
‘I expect he had a lot going on after the case. Maybe I should have said more in my letter.’
‘It works both ways. No law against sending another letter. Tell him how you feel.’
7
Helix tossed his empty pizza box into the recycling bin he’d dragged in from the underground garage. ‘You need to get yourself a cleaner,’ he said.
‘I’m working on it,’ Ethan said, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth.
‘Right. Come on. I’ve been here for at least 45 minutes. What have we got?’