by Janene Wood
“Sounds like a plan,” Ryan agreed readily, kissing her again. With a supreme effort of will, he pulled back and changed the subject. “So how did the move go? Did you get everything sorted?”
Kate nodded. “Yep, and I’ve almost finished unpacking. I have a really good feeling about the new flat.”
“I'm sorry I had to bail on you again. My job has taken over my life.”
“Not to worry; I had plenty of help.”
“I promise I’ll make it up to you later tonight.” He kissed her tenderly before reluctantly pulling away. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand again, “let’s get you a drink before we start something we can’t finish.”
As they crossed the room, they were intercepted by a florid-faced man in his late sixties, wearing a cream-coloured three-piece suit, black shirt and black tie. Knowing it was Kate his uncle wanted to speak to, Ryan nodded perfunctorily and kept walking toward the bar.
“There you are, my dear! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” said Jasper Leach, flawlessly turned out as usual and smelling of whiskey and Old Spice. He took Kate’s hand and brought it ostentatiously to his lips. “I thought I’d come down and say hello to my favourite antipodean.”
“I’m so glad you did!” exclaimed Kate with an amused smile. “It’s lovely to see you, Jasper.”
“I see my nephew has been monopolizing your attention as usual. How are you, my dear? You look stunning as always.”
Kate smiled at the compliment. “You’re always so good for a girl’s ego, Jasper. I’m great, actually. I moved into my new flat today and I’m feeling very pleased with myself.”
“You’ll have to invite me over to tea some time. I’ll bring scones and clotted cream and you can make us some cucumber sandwiches. We’ll have a proper English afternoon tea.”
Kate smiled politely at the suggestion, not sure if he was serious or not; sometimes it was hard to tell. She decided to play it safe and change the subject. “Let me take you over and introduce you to Jack. I know he wants to thank you for letting us have the party here.”
“That’s not necessary, my dear. You think I’m not making wads of money off all you young people drinking to excess? But I will admit, I’m dying to meet the handsome brother I've heard so much about.”
Arm in arm, they walked over to where Jack was holding court amidst a group of semi-intoxicated young men and women. He was recounting a story that had them all in stitches, but broke off when he saw Kate and Jasper approach. He told his friends to remember where he was up to, and despite their howls of protest, deserted them without a backward glance.
“Jack, this is Ryan’s uncle, Jasper Leach. Jasper, this is my incorrigible brother Jack, the guest of honour of this little gathering.” The two men shook hands and exchanged greetings. Jasper held firmly onto Jack’s hand and inspected him overtly, from head to toe.
“It’s a shame we haven’t met before now, young man,” remarked Jasper, clearly impressed with what he saw. “You are indeed the tasty morsel my nephew described. And quite the charmer too, from what I just observed. You’ve got the ladies and the gents hanging on your every word.”
For once Jack was at a loss for words. His mouth opened and closed a few times but nothing came out. Amused by the unusual sight of Jack rendered dumb, Kate tossed up briefly whether or not to leave him hanging. Finally deciding that family loyalty was more important than a bit of fun at her brother's expense, she said, “I’m sure Jack's flattered by your interest, Jasper, but I promised his other half I'd look after him. I'm afraid he’s off the market.”
“Don’t be silly, my dear. It’s never too late to make new friends. Come with me, my boy, and let’s get to know each other a little better.”
Jasper linked his arm with Jack’s and guided him firmly toward an empty booth. Jack gave Kate a look of helpless entreaty, but she just shrugged and smiled encouragement. She had done her best.
Ryan reappeared, bringing her a glass of white wine. He chuckled to himself when he saw Jack in the clutches of his uncle. “I see Jasper’s caught another one,” he remarked with amusement. “I thought for sure Jack would be too slippery to get trapped in the old queen's net.”
“He was caught off guard. I should have warned him, I suppose, but Jack’s a big boy. I’m sure he’s been in worse situations before. And he’s nothing if not resourceful.”
“He’s certainly that,” said Ryan, glancing at his watch and then looking expectantly across the room. A movement on the stairs caught his eye. He raised his hand to catch the attention of the new arrival making his way down the stairs.
Kate’s good mood deflated a little when she saw who it was. “I didn’t realise Fitz was going out with you too.” Like Ryan, Fitz was a Metropolitan Police officer, but was a uniformed sergeant, rather than a plain-clothes detective. They had been friends for years, since being assigned to the same station as probationers. Kate's dislike of Fitz was mutual, but for Ryan’s sake, they put on a brave face and managed to co-exist. For short periods of time.
“Of course Fitz is coming,” replied Ryan. “It’s a lads’ night out.”
“GRUUUB!!” Fitz’s voice was piercing enough to turn the heads of everyone in the room, despite the loud music. He bounded across the floor like an over-eager puppy. “It’s time to head off, Grub. The old man’s waiting upstairs and he's getting antsy.”
Fitz was clean-shaven with blonde-tipped, light brown hair that was trimmed religiously every three weeks, rain, hail or shine. He wore tailored charcoal trousers and a dark purple shirt that shimmered in the light when he moved. Carrying his suit coat nonchalantly over one shoulder, he looked good and he knew it. Colleagues and friends often ribbed him for the amount of attention he paid his appearance, but he just laughed it off, as if the joke was on them. Fitz spent more money on clothes each month than most fashion-conscious girls Kate knew.
“Time to round Jasper up and head off, babe,” said Ryan.
“Righto then, Grub. Have fun,” said Kate halfheartedly. “Don’t forget about later,” she murmured as they kissed goodbye. Ryan gave her one last dazzling smile and turned away.
It was disappointing to have to play second fiddle to Ryan’s uncle but Kate decided to make the most of the night anyway. Spying Jules in conversation with a mutual friend, she strolled across to join them.
“Hey, Bridg!” called Kate happily, pulling a tall, russet-haired girl into a hug. “I'm so glad you could make it.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it, Kate,” said Bridget, a pale-faced girl who never went anywhere without a full face of make-up. In fact, the only time Kate had ever seen Bridget au naturel was a weekend several months ago when they all went camping together, and that was purely by accident. Bridget had woken up on the first morning of the trip to find a giant spider crawling up her arm, which – understandably – caused her to scramble out of her sleeping bag and run screaming in horror from the tent without a scrap of makeup. The rest of the party were in the middle of cooking breakfast and were just as horrified when she described her unwelcome visitor. All except Jack, who walked smugly into the tent and retrieved his rubber spider.
Really, mused Kate sympathetically, it was a wonder Bridget still gave her brother the time of day.
Bridget was an old school friend of Jules' and worked as a theatre sister at Guy's Hospital. She took her job very seriously and worked long, erratic hours, but happily, had been free to come out tonight.
“I can’t believe he’s actually leaving,” remarked Bridget. “You must be devastated, Kate.”
Kate shrugged off her concern with a brittle smile.
“I never really thought he’d go through with it,” admitted Bridget.
“Jack never changes his mind,” declared Kate, acknowledging Jules’ wry smile with one of her own. “Even when he knows he’s made a bad decision, he'll refuse to admit he’s made a mistake. Typical man. This time, though, I think he got it right.”
“Well, at least we’ve got a chance to say a proper g
oodbye. I’m going to miss him,” said Bridget fondly, taking a final puff of her cigarette and stubbing it out in an ashtray on a nearby table. “Practical jokes and all.”
Kate gave a wan smile. “Yeah, me too. He drives me insane sometimes, but I like having him around.”
Bridget peered intently over Kate’s shoulder. “Who’s the John Travolta wannabe?” she asked curiously. “Whoever he is, he's spent the last ten minutes trying to get into Jack's pants.”
Kate and Jules looked across the room to where Jack was only now being released from Jasper’s nefarious clutches. “That’s Ryan’s uncle Jasper,” replied Kate, trying hard not to smile. “He seems to have taken a fancy to my darling brother. Karma sure can be a bitch.”
The three girls looked at each other with straight faces, then erupted into gales of hysterical laughter. They had all been the butt of Jack's practical jokes at one time or another, so none of them felt the least bit sorry for him. Every time one of them tried to say something, they would break out into another fit of giggles.
When they finally regained control, Bridget remarked casually, “So that’s the famous Jasper Leach. I overheard someone at the bar talking about him, and he wasn't very complimentary. He said a friend of his brother borrowed money from Leach a few years ago, and when he had trouble paying it back on time, one of Leach’s bully boys broke his arm.”
“That's terrible!” gasped Jules.
Kate was more skeptical. “Jasper? No way! He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“That's not all!” exclaimed Bridget. “Apparently, Jasper discovered one of his bar staff was an undercover cop, and two days later, the guy disappeared.”
“Are you saying Jasper killed someone?” said Kate incredulously.
“That’s what this guy said,” said Bridget, although she didn’t sound so sure of herself this time.
“That's ridiculous!” scoffed Kate. “When was this supposed to have happened?” She had no doubt it was untrue; Jasper was a sweet, if eccentric, old man. Besides, Ryan would know if he was dangerous.
Bridget shrugged offhandedly. “A while back, I think, in the late sixties or early seventies. Apparently, the only witness lost his nerve just before the trial started, so there wasn't enough evidence to convict him. The cops got the last word though. They beat the shit out of him and left him for dead. Small justice, if you ask me.”
“I wouldn’t believe every rumour you hear, Bridg, especially in a pub full of drunks wanting to big-note themselves,” warned Kate testily. “Jasper’s definitely odd and I've heard he's a tough businessman, but I'm sure he wouldn't hurt anyone.” Her tone made it clear that further discussion would not be welcome.
Bridget appeared not to have noticed Kate’s growing irritation. “I don’t know, Kate; this guy wasn't drunk and he seemed to know what he was talking about.”
“How can you say that?” demanded Kate heatedly. “Do you even know who he was?”
Jules could see where the conversation was heading, even if Bridget couldn't, and hastily changed the subject. “So Kate, Bridget was telling me she ran into Carolyne this morning. Apparently, Sophie was admitted to hospital a few days ago. She has leukemia.”
Kate’s irritation with Bridget vanished instantly. “Seriously? We only saw them a couple of months ago!”
“It was April, Kate,” Jules reminded her. “Seven months ago.”
Carolyne Morecambe was also a friend of Jules’ from school. After falling pregnant in her second year of university, Carolyne's parents disowned her, forcing her to defer her course, find her own flat, and fend for herself. Fortunately, Carolyne had access to a trust fund her grandmother set up for her before she died, so money wasn't a problem, however it didn't make up for the loss of her family. Sophie was now six years old and had never met her grandparents.
Despite being a single parent with a baby, Carolyne managed to finish her Art History degree and graduate with honours. And in an ironic twist, her personal troubles and triumphs actually inspired her to greater heights of artistic achievement, doing wonders for her reputation and career. The last few years were spent painting up a storm.
Kate met Carolyne and Jules when she joined the Elysium sports club and signed up for a course of aerobics classes. The three girls chatted after class one day, met up for drinks the next night and were firm friends from then on. Twelve months later, Carolyne bought a cottage in Scotland and relocated to the country. When Kate and Jules spent Easter with them earlier in the year, everything was fine; there had been no hint of illness.
“Carolyne never told you Sophie was sick?” asked Kate, surprised.
“I think she might have tried to,” Jules admitted with a guilty sigh. “She left a couple of messages on my answer-phone recently, but I've been so busy, I never called her back. I thought she was just ringing to talk about Christmas.” Jules had invited Carolyne, Sophie and Kate to spend Christmas with her grandparents at their vineyard in Naples.
“Poor thing; she must be going through hell.” Kate took a deep breath and tried to ignore the sick, churning feeling in her stomach, which had started the instant she heard the word “leukemia”. Her closest childhood friend had developed cancer, and even now, years after Heather's death, the memory of her illness still haunted her. The thought of poor little Sophie going through that...well, it just didn't bear thinking about. “What type of leukemia is it?” she asked breathlessly. “Is it treatable?”
“Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia,” replied Bridget knowledgeably.
“I'm afraid I don’t know much about ALL,” admitted Kate, “but chemotherapy is very effective on a lot of childhood cancers these days.” She tried to keep her voice upbeat, but it was a struggle not to become depressed by the weight of such devastating news.
“About 90% of ALL patients respond positively to chemotherapy,” Jules confirmed knowledgeably.
“Her odds are good, then,” said Kate hopefully. The sick feeling in her stomach subsided slightly at this news.
“Unfortunately, Sophie doesn’t seem to be one of the 90%,” said Bridget. “She's had one round of chemo already, with no real effect.”
The nausea returned in full force. Kate tried to breathe normally but she was all too aware of the reality of the disease. To lose a friend was one thing, but to lose your child? It was unthinkable.
Bridget’s face was grim as she shared the bleak prognosis. “The doctors say if she doesn't respond to this current round, her only option is a bone marrow transplant. Unfortunately, Carolyne isn’t a match and neither is the deadbeat dad. Caro isn't quite so desperate yet that she's gone begging to her family, but it's bound to be her next step.”
“Unless one of us happens to be a match,” suggested Jules optimistically.
“We were just talking about getting tested,” said Bridget. “Can we count you in, Kate?”
“Of course,” agreed Kate automatically. Jules caught her eye and raised one eyebrow speculatively. Nodding minutely, Kate glanced at Bridget but she hadn't noticed their exchange.
“Is Monday okay?” enquired Bridget. “Jules is meeting me after my shift ends at three.”
“Monday's no good for me; I’ve got appointments all day,” frowned Kate. “But you two go ahead and I’ll make time later in the week. The sooner we get the ball rolling the better, right?”
Kate was mentally rearranging her schedule when she remembered something wholly unconnected to the subject under discussion. “Brain like a sieve,” she muttered, quickly draining the last of her wine and handing the empty glass to Jules with a grateful smile. “I’m just ducking upstairs. I'll be back in a sec.”
The main upstairs bar was similarly noisy, smoke-filled and crowded. Kate feared she was too late, but then she spied Ryan, Jasper and Fitz, and a fourth man she didn’t know, heading toward the exit.
Ryan turned at the sound of her voice, his face lighting up when he spied her hurrying toward him. “What’s up, babe? Can’t even go ten minutes without missing me?” he te
ased.
Kate gave him an affectionate smile. “Well, that's true, but not why I'm here,” she replied. “I forgot to give you a key. You might need it later on tonight...you know, in case I'm luxuriating, naked, in a bath full of bubbles and don't hear the doorbell.” Unzipping her clutch purse, she handed him a spare key and whispered in his ear, “Think about that while you out drinking with your buds.”
Mission accomplished, Kate began to turn away but was transfixed by the expression of the fourth man in the group, a compact man with long, silver-grey hair tied back in a ponytail. His features were dominated by a thick, jagged scar that bisected one cheek, from below his left eye to the edge of his jaw.
The stranger stared at Kate with frightening intensity, as if he knew everything there was to know about her, including what she looked like naked. His strange, golden-brown eyes gave him a predatory affect that chilled her to the bone. It was a face she wouldn’t forget in a hurry.
Averting her eyes, Kate quickly walked away, disturbed by the brief encounter. The man's mocking laughter followed her all the way down the stairwell, leaving her feeling inexplicably unsettled.
Death in the Park
The smoky-eyed girl with the long, dark hair laughed at the man’s joke, even though she'd heard a version of it before. She smiled at him sweetly with adoring but calculating eyes. He was well on his way to being drunk, and she could tell he’d be a mean one. They usually were, which was generally the root of the entire problem. Not that she was worried; she could handle him easily enough. But it was probably time to get going, before he had any more to drink. She wanted him to have some of his wits about him.
The crowded bar was noisy and she had to raise her voice to make herself heard. “What do you say? Want to go back to my place for a nightcap?” Lame, but it usually worked like a charm. A suggestive squeeze with her hand on his thigh sealed the deal. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He grabbed her arse as she preceded him through the throng of happy revelers and she looked back at him with a satisfied smile. “Cheeky!” she teased, taking him by the hand.