by Rachel Ward
‘Walking home?’ he said, and then, as if he was noticing Jay for the first time, ‘Oh, all right?’
Jay nodded to him.
‘This is Jay, Ant,’ said Bea. ‘Jay, this is Ant. If you ignore him long enough, he normally goes away.’
‘Oi!’ said Ant.
Jay pulled a face. ‘Harsh.’
‘Firm but fair,’ said Bea, and noticed another little ripple of excitement in her stomach as Jay grinned at her.
Ant had noticed something too. ‘Ha! David Bowie eyes.’
Bea and Jay exchanged a quick glance.
‘No way,’ said Jay. ‘Did he have this too?’
‘Yeah, man. He’s famous for it. Look it up. Oh.’ Realising he was being teased, Ant looked down at the floor and kicked at a pile of wire baskets. ‘Yeah, right.’
‘Come on, Ant,’ said Bea. ‘Time to go. Are you doing the same shift tomorrow, Jay?’
‘Yup, four till ten.’
Bea’s stomach gave a little flip. ‘I’m on that one too,’ she said. ‘See you then!’
‘What’s up with you flirting with that numpty?’ said Ant, as they walked across the car park.
‘One: I wasn’t flirting. And two: he’s not a numpty. He seems okay.’
‘Bea, I don’t know if you noticed,’ Ant explained carefully, ‘but he’s got a man bun.’
‘So?’
‘A man bun. That’s all you need to know.’
‘I think it’s kind of cute.’
Ant rolled his eyes. ‘Gah! Students. It’s ’cos of people like him that people like me can’t afford to live anywhere.’
‘How do you work that out?’
‘Landlords buying up all the houses to rent them out. Pushing the prices up. The only way I’m going to get a place is if I knock someone up and we go on the council list.’
‘Charming,’ said Bea. ‘With an attitude like that, I’m surprised you haven’t got a little family already. You must have girls queuing up.’
‘Fighting them off, Bea. You know me. Still, there’s always room for one more.’ He put his arm round her shoulders.
Bea chose not to take him seriously. The only person that she knew for certain had dated Ant was her friend Dot, who was thirty years his senior, and that hadn’t ended well. ‘It’s all right, Ant. I think I’ll stick in the friend zone.’
Was that fleeting look on Ant’s face relief or disappointment? Bea couldn’t tell, and she didn’t mind either way. She’d been sworn off relationships since she’d slept with Tom, the rather hot police constable, who had turned out not to be single.
Ant took his arm away from her shoulders and they walked along towards the High Street. Bea heard the distinctive clip-clop sound of heels trotting behind them, as if someone was trying to catch them up. She turned around and saw Anna running in their direction.
‘Hey, Anna,’ Bea greeted her.
Anna acknowledged her but kept running. ‘Can’t stop. One of my girls didn’t come home last night. I need to get back, check that she turned up.’
They stood aside and let her clatter past. ‘Hope everything’s okay,’ Bea called out to her receding back. She knew that the ‘girls’ that Anna doted on were, in fact, rather fat, rather lovely pedigree cats called Bette and Joan, after the Hollywood screen sirens. They featured in the only photo Anna kept on her desk. Bea felt her stomach lurch.
She grabbed Ant’s arm. ‘Ant?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Anna’s cats, the ones in the picture on her desk, they’re grey, aren’t they? They’re Persian greys.’
2
It took a fraction of a second for the point she was making to register. Bea could actually see the moment when Ant put two and two together, because his jaw dropped a fraction and his eyes went wide.
‘Oh, shit,’ he said. ‘You don’t think?’
‘I dunno. Maybe. Oh my God, Ant, what if it is? Can you catch her up?’
‘And say what?’
‘Just tell her I want to talk to her. Say it’s urgent.’
‘No, Bea. Her cat could be sitting at home, licking its bum, for all we know. It’s not fair to frighten her. Have you got her number on your phone?’
‘Yes.’
‘Leave it for ten minutes, then. Let her get home, then give her a ring.’
‘Yeah, you’re right. Will you wait with me?’
‘Okay. Can we go somewhere, though?’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘It’s too chuffing freezing to hang around outside.’
Bea nodded her agreement. ‘Corner caff?’
‘Sounds good. Bea, what if it is her cat?’
‘At least she’ll know.’
‘She can have the body, if she wants it.’
Bea frowned. ‘I thought you threw it away.’
‘Not exactly. It’s in the freezer,’ he said.
Bea screwed up her face. ‘What?’
‘I put the cat in the freezer, at work. I thought about what you said and I couldn’t just bin it.’
‘In with the food?’
‘I wrapped it up in three plastic bags.’
‘Jesus, Ant. You’ll get binned if anyone finds out.’
‘Shit, do you think so? I’ll go and fetch it now, sneak in without anyone noticing. If it’s Anna’s we can give it back to her. If it’s not, we can chuck it away.’
They scurried back across the car park and round to the staff entrance. The door opened from inside just as Ant was pushing against it and he stumbled forward, more or less on top of Neville. Taken by surprise, Neville was pushed back against the wall with Ant’s face a couple of inches from his.
‘Anthony!’ he spluttered.
‘I’m sorry. So sorry.’ Ant regained his balance and put both hands on Neville’s shoulders, helping to right him.
‘You should look where you’re going.’
‘I didn’t know you were there. Sorry, mate, Neville, Mister—’
Neville brushed Ant’s hands away. ‘I thought you’d clocked off.’
‘Yes, I did. I just—’
Bea stepped forward. ‘I forgot some shopping I’d left in the cold room. Ant was just fetching it for me.’
Neville sniffed. ‘Well, you know you’re not really supposed to put personal shopping in there.’
Bea caught Ant’s eye and tipped her head towards the stores. Ant took the hint and scarpered.
‘Yes, I know. It was just that the fish finger offer was too good to miss, so I nabbed a couple of packets at lunchtime. I won’t do it again.’
‘Well, it is a very good offer. I’m prepared to overlook it this time.’
‘That’s kind of you. Oh, I think you’ve got a bit of dust on you from the wall. Here,’ Bea started brushing Neville’s jacket with her hands.
Alarmed at the physical contact, Neville tried to sidle out of the door. ‘Okay. Ah, thank you. I can deal with that.’ And he was off, out into the cold evening, and making a beeline for his car in the staff car park.
Bea waited by the doorway. She checked her watch. It was at least ten minutes since they’d seen Anna. Ant reappeared, carrying the plastic bag.
‘Come on,’ said Bea. ‘Let’s go somewhere quieter and ring.’
They walked to a corner of the car park and leaned against the metal railing of one of the trolley parks. Bea dialled Anna’s number.
‘Hey, Anna. Just wondering if your cat got home safely.’
Anna’s voice was tense and quiet. ‘No, Bea. Joan’s not here.’ Anna’s voice was tense and quiet. ‘She’s never done this before. She’s never been out all night. Bette’s beside herself.’
That explained the pitiful miaowing in the background. Bea took a deep breath. ‘I’m so sorry, Anna. The thing is . . .’ She stopped, not knowing what to say next.
‘What, Bea?’
‘Anna, I don’t want you to panic, but we—’ Bea checked with Ant, who nodded his encouragement ‘—that is, Ant and me, we found a body, a cat’s body, this afternoon. It probably isn’t your
Joan, but . . .but it could be her. I’m so sorry.’
‘You found her? Where?’
‘It could be her. It was, she was, in the cardboard recycling, at the back of the shop.’
‘The shop? What would she be doing at Costsave?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘It can’t be her. She never goes far from home.’
‘Well, then. Sorry to alarm you. Hope she turns up soon.’
Bea was about to ring off when Anna said, ‘Bea? You still there?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What colour is the . . .the cat you found?’
‘Grey.’
‘Short or long hair?’
‘I’m not an expert, Anna. I guess, longish?’
She heard a gasp at the other end of line. ‘Have you still got her?’
‘Yeah, but—’
‘I’d better come and have a look. Where are you?’
‘We’re still at the store. We could meet you halfway. We’ll start walking.’
They met in the High Street, near the newsagents.
‘Not here,’ said Bea. ‘Let’s go outside the Leisure Centre.’
They walked along together, in a silent knot. Glancing sideways, Bea could see the tension in Anna’s jaw. Near the entrance to the swimming pool there was a sort of colonnade over a wide stretch of pavement, well-lit, but with hardly anyone around. They stood near the wall, away from the road.
‘Is that her?’ Anna said, looking at the plastic bag in Ant’s hand. He pressed his lips together and nodded. ‘Okay. Let’s do it.’ Her words were businesslike, but there was a slight wobble in her voice. Cold air seemed to funnel between the concrete pillars, but Bea found herself becoming hot and sticky under the arms and across her chest.
Ant fumbled with the bags. He’d tied the handles up and there were several layers. Eventually, he peeled the plastic open and held it towards Anna.
She peered in. ‘I can’t see.’
Ant crouched down and put the bundle in front of him. He folded the sides of the bags over and over until the cat was revealed. Then he shuffled back, so that he wasn’t casting a shadow onto it, and Anna stepped forward and knelt on the ground. She put a hand out and touched the animal’s head, then gently stroked the length of its spine. The little body was stiff. Bea wondered if it was from the afternoon spent in the freezer or the effects of rigor mortis. Anna felt around the neck. The fur there was dark and bloody.
‘I can’t find a collar,’ she said, her voice a dull monotone. ‘Her throat’s been cut.’ The last word came out as a sort of yelp, as she started sobbing.
Bea crouched down now and put her arm round Anna’s shoulders. ‘Is it her?’
Anna squeaked her confirmation. ‘It’s Joan. It’s my baby.’
Bea put the other arm round her and drew her close. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’
They stayed together for a minute or more, then Anna drew away and started wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.
‘Someone’s done this,’ she said, when she was able to talk again. ‘Someone killed my cat.’ She unfolded the sides of the bag and gathered the handles together.
‘Do you want us to get rid of her?’ said Bea.
Anna picked up the bag and cradled it like a baby. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No, I can do that for her, at least. One last thing.’
Bea helped her to her feet. ‘We’ll walk you home.’
It wasn’t far to Anna’s flat. She had the ground floor of a small house in a terrace which faced onto a sort of square made from some old people’s bungalows, a row of modern two-up two-downs and a couple of blocks of low-rise maisonettes.
‘Are you going to be okay?’ said Bea.
‘Yes. I’ll be fine.’ It was one of those times, thought Bea, when ‘I’ll be fine’ meant exactly the opposite, but she couldn’t think of anything to do to help – except perhaps one thing.
‘Anna,’ she said.
‘Yes?’ Anna’s look was sad, defeated.
‘We’ll get them. Whoever did this. We’ll get them for you.’
Anna tipped her head sideways and looked as if she was about to say something, but then she just turned sadly away and let herself into her front door.
‘Jeez, poor Anna,’ said Ant.
‘I know,’ said Bea. She shivered.
‘Do you want me to walk you home too? ’S not far. I don’t mind.’
The Kingsleigh Stalker was behind bars, of course, waiting for his trial date, having been released from hospital, but the town still didn’t feel like the safe place it used to be. Before all that, Bea hadn’t given a second thought to walking home on her own. These days, she had to steel her nerve to do so.
‘Actually, I think I’ll call in on Dot. Wanna come?’
Ant looked down at the pavement. ‘Nah. Don’t think so. I’d only be in the way.’
‘She misses you, you know,’ said Bea. ‘Not in that way, just to talk to. She told me.’
‘Yeah, well, another time. I got a call from Mum earlier. She’s cooking a chilli and she wants us all home for six. Sounded more like a threat than a promise.’
‘Oh, okay. Good luck with that. See you tomorrow, then. We can talk about the cat killer then. I meant what I said to Anna. We’ve got to find who did that. They can’t get away with it.’
Bea texted home to tell her own mum, Queenie, that she’d be late and walked on to Dot’s little house. It was in the older part of town, a series of Victorian terraces near the river. When Dot answered the door, Bea was surprised to see she wasn’t using a walking stick, even though it was only eight weeks since she’d broken her hip in a night-time misadventure.
They embraced in the doorway.
‘Wow, Dot, you’re looking great! No sticks!’
‘I don’t need them round the house any more. Still use one when I’m out and about.’
‘That’s brilliant.’
‘Yes, I’m coming along nicely. Got a meeting with occupational health soon to talk about going back to work. Come on in and tell me all about it. First day back today – how was it? Wanna cup of tea or a drink drink?’
They settled in Dot’s cosy living room with a couple of glasses of white wine. The coal-effect gas fire was on, the curtains were drawn and Bea sank happily back into Dot’s comfy sofa and told her all about George and Jay and the grim discovery in the cardboard.
‘It’s all happening, babe,’ said Dot. ‘Weird thing about that cat, though. I bet it was foxes. There are loads of them round here. There are some living under the garden shed a couple of doors down. The neighbours feed them as well.’
‘Do they? I’d love to see that.’
‘They’re not fluffy pets, Bea. They used to get into my dad’s chickens when we were little. They’d kill every last one. Horrible it was.’
‘It’s just their nature, though, Dot. I love foxes, I do.’
‘Hmm. They could easily do that to a cat, though.’
‘It wasn’t foxes, Dot. The damage was done with a knife. Throat cut. Belly shredded.’
Dot hunched her shoulders and shivered. ‘Ugh. Poor Anna. She must be devastated.’
‘Yeah. She was. Doubt we’ll see her at work tomorrow. How about you, Dot? When do you think you’ll be back?’
‘Well, I could try straight away if it was only for a few hours. My leg gets sore sitting still or standing for very long, but I reckon I could do two hours on the till. If they needed me to be back full-time, that’s a different story. Mind you, do you want me back now you’ve got, whatshisname, Jay?’
‘’Course I want you back.’ She took a sip of wine. ‘Just not in the evenings.’
‘Ha! I knew it. You prefer a student hipster to me.’
‘I didn’t say that. Okay, he’s interesting, but I don’t really know anything about him yet. He might be a massive knob for all I know.’
‘Or have one?’
About to take a slurp of wine, Bea lowered her glass and started laughing. ‘You see this is what I miss,�
� she said. ‘There’s no one like you, Dot. Never will be.’
‘’Course not,’ Dot said, with a smile of satisfaction. ‘And the new boss? What’s she like?’
‘Well, she’s interesting in a different way. Bit scary, if you ask me. Do you know anyone who works in Swindon? Would be nice to find out the goss on her.’
‘Anna’s the one for that, isn’t she? She knows everyone. Oh, I’m itching to come back now. I miss everyone so much.’
‘Especially Bob?’ Bea winked at Dot. It was well known that Bob-on-Meat had the hots for Dot, but so far she had kept him at arm’s length, apart from the odd lapse now and again.
‘I don’t get the chance to miss him, babe, he’s round here every other day. He’s been fixing my taps and changing my light bulbs, bless him.’
‘Ooh er,’ said Bea, with a wink. ‘That’s a new name for it.’
Dot only just managed to keep hold of her mouthful of wine. She swallowed rapidly. ‘You’re terrible, you are. Worse than me.’
‘You love it,’ said Bea. They raised their glasses and chinked them together.
Queenie was in the lounge watching the TV news when Bea got home. From the cups on the coffee table and the book next to the chair, it looked like she’d been there all day. Bea sighed. Before Christmas, it seemed as if her mum was starting to get over the agoraphobia that had held her back for years. Now it felt like nothing had changed.
She roused herself with Bea there, though, and made dinner for them both, and they ate it on their laps as usual. Bea told her the story of her day, pretty much as she’d told Dot.
‘That cat,’ said Queenie, sometime afterwards, when they’d cleared away the dishes and were watching the soaps. ‘You did a good thing there.’
‘Mm,’ said Bea.
‘You’ve reunited it with its owner. Job done.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s a horrible story, but it’s over now. You’ve done your bit.’
‘Yeah. It’s odd, though. I mean, why would it turn up at Costsave, nearly half a mile from home? And why would anyone kill a cat in the first place?’