by K Leitch
And even more irritating than that was the fact that Gordon never heard the alarm clock, or if he did he ignored it. Susan tutted in disgust and left the room; there was no point in getting annoyed about Gordon, and the inequality in the division of labour in the Marshall household. Anyhow Gordon hadn’t got in until long after she had gone to bed last night, obviously the church council meeting he’d been to had dragged on. ‘More like they ended up in the pub,’ thought Susan cynically as she crept along the landing and opened the door to the children’s room, popping her head around the door. The kids didn’t need to be up for another half hour or so and they both seemed to be sleeping peacefully, burrowed under their duvets against the cold. So she carried on downstairs to make herself a cup of tea.
The first thing she noticed was how much colder it felt as she reached the bottom of the stairs; she ran her hand over the radiator in the hall, it felt warm but there was definitely a cold breeze coming in from somewhere. Susan pulled her dressing gown round her even more tightly and wandered into the kitchen, where there was evidence of Gordon stumbling around late last night and making himself a sandwich, marmite by the look of it. Susan tutted to herself again and went on to auto-pilot clearing the mess as she put on the kettle for tea.
Tea in hand Susan went into the living room, grabbing her magazine from the side as she went.
Hot tea sloshed down the front of her dressing gown as she stopped in her tracks in horror and let out an involuntary scream. It took her brain a couple of minutes to compute what her eyes were seeing…the French windows were wide open, white muslin curtains were blowing into the room like ghostly giant fingers giving the whole scene a supernatural feel. Two of her heavy old pine dining chairs had been knocked over, and so had the enormous fig tree that had stood in front of the window. Earth had spilt out from the tub onto the polished wood floor. It had mixed with the light rain that was being blown in by the wind, and had turned into a muddy mush. There were muddy footprints leading back out to the garden.
All of this Susan had taken in as she had been standing terrified in the doorway. Gordon, woken by his wife’s screams came rushing downstairs; bleary eyed, his enormous stomach rolling unpleasantly over the top of his boxer shorts.
‘Oh my god… what the…oh fuck…fuck…’ was all he said, as he began checking out the room to see what had been taken….nothing by the looks of it; the enormous flat screen TV was still there as was the DVD player and both of their laptops were where they had left them the night before. Even Susan’s swish new mobile phone was in its place on the table near the sofa. Gordon looked around bewildered… and then… ‘oh my god no’… he just turned and ran up stairs, two seconds later Susan let out a wail as well and followed him up the stairs stumbling in her panic.
Gordon was on his hands and knees in the middle of the children’s bedroom, ‘No no …god no,’ he was crying, holding their three year old, Hannah, tightly in his arms. Hannah bewildered at being dragged out of bed by her sobbing father; was now crying loudly too in her confusion. Susan’s eyes went straight to Owen’s bed, Owen’s empty bed. Then she started screaming, uncontrolled animal screams that just kept coming over and over as she frantically started searching through the bedclothes, under the bed, she screamed as she ran from room to room until finally Gordon managed to grab hold of her and pull her into his arms. They stood like that for a while, until Gordon pulled away and found his mobile and called the police…Owen, his five year old son had been taken.
CHAPTER 6 - CARLA
Carla sat with her head in her hands at the kitchen table. It was unusually quiet in the Right household; James had gone to work and dropped the kids off to school on his way and Carla was trying to get rid of the mother of all hangovers.
James had suggested a drink with dinner last night; and had opened a bottle of wine and soon one bottle had turned into two. Although James had restricted himself to a couple of glasses as he had important meetings this morning. This left Carla to polish off the lot, well why not…it’s not like she had to get up for work or anything. Carla was on leave from work at the moment. Chief Inspector Drew had thought that she needed a break and had recommended that she took some time off. Carla was not fooled; ever since she had let that bitch, Vanessa Poole slip through her fingers by arresting the wrong man no less, she had felt her dazzling career in the police force slipping away from her, and if truth be told she was seriously thinking about quitting for good. After all, good police work relied a lot on hunches and gut feelings and Carla wasn’t sure she could trust hers anymore.
It had been over six months since Carla had investigated the death of a young girl whose badly beaten body had been found in the thick of Glory Woods. But the memory of it, and all the mistakes she had made were still haunting Carla. At least two people might be alive today if she had acted more quickly; instead of giving the twisted and manipulative Vanessa the benefit of the doubt over and over again. God… she put her head in her hands again; what a bloody fool she had been. She really didn’t deserve the title of Detective Inspector. Maybe she should recommend her sergeant Ted to take over her role.
Her phone started trilling, it was Tracy.
‘Morning love,’ Carla winced, Tracy sounded far too bright and loud this morning. ‘I just thought I’d check in on you. You seemed a bit low the other night honey, are you ok?’
‘Oh…you know the usual stuff,’ Carla said with a sigh. ‘I’ll be ok…but thanks Trace. It’s a bit rich me moaning on though… what with all you’ve been through.’ Tracy had nearly died at the hands of a lunatic a few months earlier, another casualty of her bumbling detective work.
‘Why? Oh my god! Don’t be such a silly cow…you saved my life remember? Carla please don’t tell me you are still beating yourself up over bloody Vanessa. She will be caught eventually you know. She’s bound to slip up one day, and we were all taken in by her not just you so let it go love. Come on you have to, for all our sakes. You are becoming a bloody bore; droning on about what a useless detective you are week in week out, we just can’t take anymore. We’re actually thinking of changing the venue of the next cauldron meeting and not telling you…I’m not kidding, seriously love GET OVER IT!’
Carla chuckled, ‘Well I wouldn’t blame you if you did; I know I’m not very good company at the moment…sorry,’ and with that she burst into tears.
Tracy was horrified; ‘Oh god Carla I was only joking…come on love don’t cry. You really are in a bad way aren’t you?’
Carla tried to pull herself together; she blew her nose very loudly into the phone.
‘That’s better,’ said Tracy laughing, ‘now before you descend into another bout of self pity; I had another reason for phoning. I wondered if I could come over after work today. I need a chat, and I didn’t want to talk about it in front of Helen at the meeting. I can come straight from school; I would just have to pick Buster up and bring him if that’s ok…I could collect the kids for you as well if you like?’ Tracy worked at the local school.
‘Tracy love, of course you can come over you know that, but what is it? Not trouble with Simon I hope.’
‘Oh no nothing like that; although it does have to do with him I suppose…anyway, I don’t want to talk about it now. I’ll see you about three thirtyish; have the kettle on and lots of bickys available, preferably chocky ones. And Carla keep your chin up honey…you really have nothing to blame yourself for you know. Vanessa was just a twisted devious bitch that fooled all of us. Please don’t let her destroy your career the way she destroyed all the other people around her, let it go love. Anyway see you later; I’ve got to go, I’m bloody late again already…Juno is going to go ape!’ And with that she hung up, and the house felt quiet again.
She was right, Carla knew that. She sat and looked around her kitchen; it bore all the scars of getting two children ready for school. Breakfast bowls were still by the sink waiting to be washed up. Book bags had been emptied out on the table, and yesterday’s books were spread e
verywhere. There was a smelly old P.E kit sitting on one of the chairs. And a wizened old apple had been thrown out of a lunch box, after being taken back and forth to school too many times without being eaten.
‘This place needs a bloody good clean,’ Carla said to herself. ‘And there’s no time like the present,’ so with renewed vigour she got up and made herself a nice cup of tea. And then sat down in the living room, while she planned how she was going to tackle it.
Tracy arrived a bit later than she had said; but with Carla’s two children Rosie and Harry and Buster the dog in tow.
‘We took Buster for a walk,’ said Rosie excitedly; as she deposited shoes and school bags all over the recently tidied kitchen table. ‘I held his lead and gave him a treat when he was a good boy; which actually means when he did a poo. I don’t know why that makes him good…and guess what Mum; there were loads of caravans on the common…with pretty lacy curtains at the windows. Auntie Tracy made us come away when we saw them…why are they there… are they on holiday?’
‘Er …not exactly…’ began Carla.
‘Sorry Carla,’ said Tracy following Rosie in. ‘I hope you don’t mind, I thought Buster needed a bit of a walk before I brought him here, and the kids seemed keen so…’
‘No that’s fine, I expect they loved it. Well Rosie certainly has…yes, yes alright hello Buster… what a good boy…yes you are…oh yes you are,’ said Carla trying to stop the little west highland terrier from jumping up at her with muddy paws. ‘Harry doesn’t seem to be interested in anything but that bloody computer game at the moment,’ she went on as Harry walked passed her with a grunt in response to her greeting. And, after grabbing a handful of the biscuits that Carla had put out on the table for Tracy, ran straight upstairs in his hurry to get back onto his online game. Carla pursed her lips. ‘Hmm…yes thank Simon for me when you see him.’
Simon was Tracy’s boyfriend, his company had developed the game that Harry was addicted to. It was an extension of the very successful ‘Adventures of ROBOB’ comic that he had been working on when Tracy first met him.
Tracy looked sheepish, ‘Yeh sorry about that. Although I can’t say I’m not excited at how well it’s going because I would be a liar.…anyway,’ she looked around her making sure that the kids had gone off to amuse themselves, and that no one was listening, ‘I need to talk to you.’
Carla brought over two cups of tea and the plate of biscuits one of which she gave to Buster and sat down at the big pine table. ‘Tracy I know… you said… so I’m all prepared and I’m all ears, go for it.’
Tracy took a deep breath, ‘I’m pregnant,’ she said and looked at Carla expectantly.
Carla was totally gobsmacked, whatever she had been expecting it hadn’t been that.
‘Oh Tracy darling that’s fabulous,’ she exclaimed as soon as she recovered. She jumped up and ran round the table to give her a hug. But although she smiled and hugged Carla back, Tracy still had a worried look on her face.
‘What’s up love?’ Carla asked, ‘don’t tell me you don’t want it, because I know how much you have longed to start a family…is it Simon, doesn’t he want it?’
‘I haven’t told him yet,’ said Tracy quietly. ‘I’m not sure how he is going to react. I mean let’s face it Carla we have only known each other a few months. And he has never mentioned having a family, well neither of us have. Of course I’ve always hoped you know one day, but now that it has actually happened…’ she looked at Carla her eyes brimming over. ‘I’m scared Carla…I was so ecstatically happy when I found out and then I started thinking about the ramifications. I mean what if Simon really isn’t ready, what if I lose him…I couldn’t bear it if I lost him.’
Carla took her hands, ‘Sweetheart you have to tell him, I am sure you are worrying unnecessarily. If you want my opinion I think Simon will be over the moon; it may be sooner than you both expected but it must have crossed his mind that one day you two would settle down and start a family. It is glaringly obvious that you both love the bones of each other…you must trust him Tracy, I am sure that you won’t lose him,’ she gave her hands another squeeze. ‘Oh my god Tracy this is wonderful news I am so happy for you, how far gone are you?’
Tracy was looking a little bit more positive; and she said shyly, ‘About three months…I’ve got a picture if you’d like to see.’ She dug around in her handbag, and produced a dog eared scan photo which she passed to Carla. ‘Look that’s the head and I think she said that was a hand…or maybe a foot I’m not sure.’
Carla looked at the grainy black and white picture, and oohd and arrrhd, even though she wasn’t really sure what she was looking at. But she could see her friend’s face glowing with happiness and that was enough for her. She just prayed that she was right and that Tracy’s relationship with Simon was strong enough to cope with this new development.
They spent the next hour or so drooling over baby goods catalogues; moaning about morning sickness and constant weeing; and laughing at the terrible name choices of some of the children at the school that Tracy worked at.
‘Russell Sprout, can you believe it…what were his parents thinking?’ they both fell about laughing and that was how James and Simon found them a bit later.
‘So this is how you spend your day while I’m slaving over a hot computer is it?’ said James. ‘Tea, chocky bickys and gossiping with your friends. Bloody hell you two only saw each other a couple of nights ago, what the hell else can you possibly have to talk about?’ He simultaneously detached Buster from his leg, got a beer out of the fridge, threw it for Simon to catch and kissed his wife hello.
‘It’s one of life’s wonders mate,’ said Simon opening his beer, ‘they never seem to run out of conversation. I’ve witnessed it myself time and time again. They can go on for hours…days even. Usually about one subject; but sometimes, and this is really weird, they can all be talking at once about several different subjects… and they all seem to understand each other. Definitely another species. Some sort of undiscovered primate probably.’
He took a swig of his beer, and sat down next to Tracy giving her a squeeze. ‘You ok now babe, you seemed a bit out of sorts this morning?’
‘Er I’m fine,’ said Tracy carefully not catching Carla’s eye, ‘just needed a word with Carla that’s all.’
Simon looked at her for a moment and then smiled, ‘Well whatever it is I’m sure you’ll tell me when you’re ready.’
He turned to Carla. ‘I see Gypos have moved on to the common Carla; your lot were all over them earlier today as I drove past.’
‘Oh yes I meant to tell you Carla,’ interrupted Tracy. ‘There’s about six caravans, it looks like they’ve dug through the barriers the council put up and driven up and over the woodland path, I didn’t see any of them though, just a couple of mangy looking dogs wandering around.’
Carla laughed, ‘Poor Ted he hates having to deal with them. I think he feels quite sympathetic towards them really and that’s the problem…. I’m surprised he hasn’t called me actually, to have a moan.’ Ted was Carla’s sergeant; a grumpy fifty something looking forward to his retirement. But Carla knew that his gruff exterior was hiding a good heart, and she was very fond of him. He had been a rock in the weeks after Vanessa’s disappearance. And since she had been off work he had called her most days…actually Carla was surprised he hadn’t called today, still there was time yet.
Tracy and Simon ended up staying for supper. James and Simon had taken to each other straight away. Simon enjoyed football so James took him along with him when he played five-a-side and he soon became a member of the team. A team which also included Greg, Maggie’s ex-husband.
Maggie was one of the witches. Carla along with Tracy, Maggie and Helen collectively made up the Witches of Glory Woods: a title given to them a few years earlier by Maggie’s then husband Greg. At the time there were actually only three of them; Carla, Maggie and Helen. And so Greg had likened them to the three witches in Shakespeare’s Macbeth, what wit
h all their gossiping and plotting. But then Tracy had come along and that had made four witches, which didn’t make any sense. But the name had stuck and they still had their weekly ‘cauldron meetings’. Which all of their respective partners recognised as sacrosanct, and in truth the girls would have struggled without their weekly off loading sessions.
Anyway James and Simon were now friends with Greg, Maggie’s ex, which was causing a few problems. Carla had always loved the handsome and witty Greg and was almost as shocked as Maggie when he had been caught sleeping with his secretary. Not only was he sleeping with her but he had fathered a child with her. Carla had witnessed Maggie’s complete breakdown during her inevitable separation and divorce. Maggie had loved Greg beyond reason and had been seriously broken when he had betrayed her. So that now anything to do with Greg was a touchy subject for Maggie, despite the fact that she had met someone new and seemed to be making progress there. Carla knew that there would always only be one man in Maggie’s heart, so she was always very careful not to mention him when talking about James’s antics.
Simon and Tracy didn’t stay too late; they both had work in the morning and everyone could see that Carla was flagging by about nine o clock.
‘I’m sorry I’m not much fun tonight,’ she said as they were leaving, ‘I’ve been struggling with a headache all day today.’
‘No probs Carla sweetheart,’ said Simon, ‘we both need our beauty sleep. Although,’ he said giving Tracy a smile, ‘some more than others, eh Tracy. I can barely keep her awake at the moment, I’m beginning to think she may be losing interest.’
‘I can’t help it if I work harder than you…’ began Tracy teasingly, but whatever else she had to say was lost as they wandered off down the drive.
Carla and James gathered plates and cups together to wash up in the morning, and after unsuccessfully trying to watch a bit of telly, they gave in and went to bed.