First Among Equals

by Katherine Hayton

  “It’s all right,” she kept repeating like a mantra, though whether it was reassuring herself or the kittens was hard to tell.

  The last time she’d been on a proper date night had been soon after the finalisation of her divorce. For some reason that made sense at the time, Marjorie thought the perfect end to her marriage was starting a relationship with somebody else.

  Her mindset had been as misguided as her date.

  The evening had swung from oversharing to glum silence, punctuated by too many glasses of wine. As the disaster drew to a close, she’d sworn never to bother again unless the temptation was worth the penalty. So far, it hadn’t been close.

  Marjorie smoothed down the front of the only decent dress she owned and hoped that ten years wasn’t enough to have bid adieu to its style. “I should’ve gone out on lots of dates,” she told Monkey Business when he ventured near. “Then I wouldn’t give two figs how this evening went.”

  The kitten jumped onto the back of the couch, obscuring her view out the upstairs window. “Thanks, pal. Nice timing.” A moment later, the crunch of tyres on gravel had her darting downstairs, patting her hair as though a human hand could tame what genetics and humidity had wrought.

  But Braden didn’t seem to notice her greying ginger hair spun out like a rat’s nest in disarray. His gaze fixed on her eyes and her smile instead. “I hope I’m not late,” he said with a small bow. “When the sun’s still shining, it’s hard to know.”

  “The sun has set,” Marjorie said with a pretend sniff. She was half right. The glow on the horizon didn’t show a fiery ball at its centre any longer, but it also wasn’t close to being full dark.

  On arrival at the restaurant, they spent a few minutes involved in halting small talk before the waiter arrived to take their orders. With a drink as an added layer of protection between her and the man opposite, Marjorie relaxed enough to free her brain from its frozen state.

  “You said the other night you were a computer engineer. What sorts of things does that involve around here?”

  “Well,” Braden clicked his tongue and stared over her shoulder for a moment. “It should involve building complete computer systems from the ground up. Made to order and functioning to the exact needs and specifications of the client. Instead, I spend a lot of time trying to extract data off corrupt sources.”

  “How corrupt?” Marjorie dropped her voice to a whisper. “Bribing members of political parties for favours corrupt or more like a backhander under the table?”

  Braden laughed and rotated his shoulders as he settled more comfortably in his chair. “Corrupt as in ‘my son thought it was a good idea to test out if the hard drive was waterproof,’ when it’s labelled to show it's not.”

  “There’s something I’ve always wanted to know,” Marjorie said, then had to pause as the waiter arrived with some garlic bread to share.

  If Braden hadn’t ordered some first, she mightn’t have had the courage to breath foul odours over him for the rest of the evening. Since he made the first move, she cheerfully pulled the loaf apart with her fingers and transferred a generous portion to her plate.

  “Does throwing a device into a pile of rice really help to dry it out without losing all your information?”

  “It can,” Braden replied between mouthfuls. “If you’re quick enough, the rice will dry it out thoroughly, but the main problem comes with the deposits left behind by the water. I’ve got a special solution to dunk wet electronics into, which clears out those minerals and stuff, so when it dries it should be fine.”

  “Should be?”

  He shrugged and gave her a slow smile across the table that made her stomach grumble. Luckily, Marjorie could blame it on the bread.

  “Nothing is one hundred percent guaranteed. If it was, I’d be out of a job. There’s not much demand around here for people to build complex systems and a lot of the other things I used to help with can now be sorted by any random teenager.”

  “Only if you can put up with the angst that goes along with it.”

  As they settled into their meal, Marjorie felt a rush of pleasure. Sure, sitting at home with her kittens was also an enjoyable pastime, but they never stared at her with quite the same twinkle in their eye.

  For an eligible bachelor, she could do a lot worse than Braden Samuels.

  Speaking of which…

  “Are you divorced like me or did you never marry?”

  As the words tumbled out of her mouth, Marjorie could have kicked herself. For one thing, she might not be a computer engineer, but she knew how to stalk someone on Facebook. If she truly had a burning desire to know, it would only take ten minutes of free time to find out.

  But Braden didn’t seem to mind her bluntness. “I’m twice divorced,” he said with a slight hint of regret in his voice. “I swore after the first time, never again. Then I managed to marry my first wife all over again.”

  “Neat trick that,” Marjorie said with a chuckle, then her expression changed to horror. “You didn’t really marry your first wife again, did you?”

  Braden burst into laughter, creasing the lines at the corners of his eyes in a way that sent a flutter through her chest. “No, I’m not Richard Burton. I had the good sense to marry a different woman with the exact same character traits that led to me splitting up with my first wife.”

  This time, the good-natured expression came under some strain and Braden’s mouth twisted down at one corner. Marjorie caught the waiter’s eye and he came over, providing a nice distraction.

  “Would you care for some dessert?”

  “Yes, please,” she said at the same time Braden shook his head.

  Awkward.

  The waiter did his job and tried to increase the margin of the restaurant by taking Marjorie’s answer. He unfolded a large menu for her and handed one to Braden, too.

  “Gosh. There’s such a variety.”

  “I didn’t expect you’d want to stay so late,” Braden said, a smidgeon of his good humour returning. “After all, it’s gone nine o’clock.”

  Marjorie stared across the table, waiting for the joke, then checked her watch. “Oh, my goodness. I had no idea! The evening’s gone so quickly.” She folded the menu back up and placed it on the table. “I can’t have something sweet now or I’ll never get to sleep.”

  “Unless you want me to keep you awake all night and drop you back to work in the morning.”

  Peals of laughter burst out of her as Marjorie considered how long it had been since she’d seen the sunrise. Okay, scratch that. She saw it all the time. But it must be decades since she’d stayed up all night to see it rather than the spectacle taking place after she woke up and got to work.

  “It’s tempting,” she admitted with a smile, “but at my age, my body won’t thank me if I don’t get as many hours sleep as I can.”

  They split the bill and soon Marjorie was staring at the blank windows of the café and her house as Braden’s vehicle came to a stop. A shadow moved in the top left corner—her bedroom. A kitten up to no-good. She kept her eyes peeled for a minute, but the shadow had moved on to other business.

  “Thanks for a lovely evening,” Marjorie said, opening the car door with a hint of regret. “I’d enjoy it if we did this again sometime.”

  Braden nodded, then his eyes jerked to the house behind her. Marjorie turned again, this time her heartbeat speeding to twice its usual pace. “What is it,” she whispered. “Did you see something?”

  “Do you always leave the gate to the back of your property open?” he asked.

  Chapter Seven

  Marjorie jumped out of the car, running across the gravel carpark as Braden called to her to stop.

  Hardly. If someone had broken into her house, she would catch the thief and give them a right telling off. How dare someone use her one night of absence to scare her kittens and pilfer through her drawers?

  “Marjorie, wait.”

  She reached the back door and gave it a push. It swung open. If
her kittens jumped over the safety gate at the top of the stairs—and goodness knows, some of them made a sport of it—they might now be out in the wilderness. Lost and frightened.

  Or, even worse, killing the beautiful native birds of the area who didn’t have the sense to be scared of something they hadn’t evolved alongside.

  “Is someone here?” Marjorie called out in a voice stronger than she felt. “I’m calling the police.”

  She closed the back door firmly, hearing the latch snick into place. With her mobile phone in hand, she scrolled through the list of numbers. Should she call the police emergency line? Or the non-emergency? After hovering in indecision, Marjorie clicked the number for Regina Ashford.

  “The call is connecting now so if you’re in here, I suggest you either get out or come downstairs with your hands up!”

  A window shattered and Marjorie ran upstairs, getting herself more tangled on the kitten safety gate than they ever did. A thump followed by scattering gravel told her someone had just jumped onto the driveway below.

  “This better be important,” Regina said, answering the call. “Because it’s the first chance I’ve had to get a decent night’s sleep in a week!”

  “Regina, it’s Marjorie. Someone broke into my house while I was out at dinner and they’ve just smashed a window to get away.”

  Regina’s voice launched into an authoritative tone. “Get out of the house and to a place of safety. Just because you think the intruder’s left the premises doesn’t mean they have and burglars can be violent when they’re cornered. Is there somewhere nearby you can run to?”

  “A neighbour,” Marjorie answered, switching the phone to her other hand as she opened the door of the first upstairs room. Broken glass caught the moonlight and reflected it in scattered rays across the floor. “Oh, and Braden’s downstairs.”

  “Then get downstairs.” There was a pause, then Regina shouted down the line. “Now. I mean it! I can hear you’re not moving.”

  “Okay,” Marjorie said, crossing to the window and scanning the grounds for signs of movement. “I’m going.”

  But only when she’d assured herself the scene was clear and all her kittens were accounted for, did Marjorie hurry downstairs, slipping on a stair in her haste and bumping down three before catching the handrail.

  A figure came at her out of the darkness and she let out a breathy scream.

  “It’s me,” Braden said, waving his hands as he hulked over her. “I’m trying to find the light switch.”

  “Get outside,” Marjorie said, enjoying the small sense of control that order gave her. “I’m on the phone with the police.”

  “Are your kittens okay?”

  “They’re alive and seem unhurt. As for psychological damage, I don’t know.” Marjorie spun around and put the hand on the door she’d just slammed shut. Icy fingers clutched a bunch of her stomach, twisting it until she gasped in pain.

  Someone had been in her place. Touched her belongings.

  The invasion left her feeling naked, exposed.

  “If they’ve survived okay so far, they’ll live for another few minutes,” Braden said, putting an arm around Marjorie’s shoulder and steering her back towards the car. He tipped his nose into the air, staring down the road into the valley. “I can’t hear sirens.”

  Marjorie put the call on loudspeaker. “Regina, is someone coming?”

  “I’m coming and I’ve patched through a call to the central station.” The officer gave a faint laugh. “It’ll be like buses. Nothing for ages, then two come along at once. Are you safe?”

  “I’m in a car so if there’s someone out there, we can run them over.”

  “Try not to do that, okay? And if you need to, please ensure it’s actually the person who broke in and not some random tourist out for a midnight stroll.”

  “Midnight,” Braden scoffed, poking Marjorie’s upper arm. “I see your early-night disease is catching.”

  The tease raised a tiny smile but couldn’t stop the worry from pulsing through her bloodstream. Every shadow in the dark yard appeared menacing. Each flash of movement from a creature stalking the night left Marjorie flinching.

  “Why would someone even bother to break into my house?” she called out in a ragged voice, needing to say or do something before her brain exploded from tension. “There’s nothing in there worth stealing. Even the television is so old it won’t upgrade the smart apps any longer.”

  “Maybe it’s a kitten thief?”

  “In Hanmer? They could go along the street and pick out a dozen strays if they want.” Marjorie pounded on her thigh, wanting to rip the door open and run into the darkness in pursuit of the intruder she couldn’t see. “Why are people so awful?”

  “Not all of us and not all the time,” Braden said as he leaned over, trying to fit an arm around her shoulder and failing in the confines of the car.

  Flashing red and blue lights crested the hill and Regina jumped out of the car as soon as it came to a stop. A faint siren heralded another officer on the way.

  Marjorie flung the car door open and hugged her old school friend. “They broke a window to get out,” she said, pointing to the shattered glass mixed in with stones. “But I don’t know which direction they ran afterwards.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll just do a quick patrol of the perimeter, then when my colleague gets here, we’ll go through the house and check every room. Just because a window broke doesn’t mean they left.”

  “I heard them jump down.”

  Regina gave her arm a squeeze, then turned on her flashlight, the beam bright enough to cast light in the darkest corners. “Get back in the car so I know where you are,” she ordered before heading off to search.

  Soon after, PC Chandler arrived and joined Regina. Although their exploration took hours in Marjorie’s mind, when she checked her watch, it had only just gone ten o’clock.

  They were given the all-clear and Marjorie hurried inside, turning on every light and doing a headcount of the kittens, picking each one up to check they were okay before she could relax.

  “We’ll have someone come through tomorrow to take fingerprints,” Regina said as they regrouped around a café table. “In the meantime, try not to touch any surface where a burglar might have touched.”

  “Is anything stolen?” PC Chandler asked. “We didn’t see any obvious gaps, but you’d have a better idea.”

  Marjorie sprang to her feet as she thought of the jewellery box hidden away, deep under a pile of clothes in her wardrobe. But it was untouched. She returned to the table, saying, “I don’t think anything’s gone. Hopefully, I disturbed them before they could get to work.”

  “Have a more thorough check in the morning and let us know.” Regina placed her hand over Marjorie’s. “You’ll be thinking more clearly then.”

  “I’m thinking clearly now.”

  Thinking of all the horrible things a justice system could do to whoever had broken in and scared me.

  A tentative knock on the door had Marjorie springing to her feet like a jack in the box. When she responded, the invectives she had ready to hurl at someone who thought a knock at this hour was appropriate fell away. “Esme! What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, I’m so glad you’re alright.” Esme pulled her into a hug and squeezed so tightly Marjorie could barely breathe. “I saw all the lights outside and thought something terrible must have happened. After what happened to Angelica and the killer not being caught…”

  Her friend trailed off and gave another hug before disentangling herself and wiping away a few tears of relief.

  “I’m fine but someone broke into my house. When I arrived home, they smashed a window upstairs and jumped down to get away.”

  Esme clutched at the neck of her blouse. “Did the police catch them?”

  “Not yet.” Marjorie folded her arms and stared at the floor. Her mind was wiped clean from exhaustion and the shaky aftermath of an adrenaline rush. “It doesn’t appear they took anyth
ing, so there’s that.”

  “Who cares? I remember being burgled years ago and it’s not what goes missing that matters but the sense of invasion. Can I do anything?”

  Marjorie shook her head, smiling at the indignation written across her friend’s face. “I’ll be fine. Once the police leave and I get a good night’s sleep, I’m sure everything will feel better.”

  “Call me.” Esme put a hand on Marjorie’s shoulder. “Any time, day or night. Call me if you need something or just want to talk. There should be some benefits to living so close by.”

  “I will.”

  As Marjorie waved her friend goodbye, her spirits were lighter. She eased the police out of her café and urged Braden to return home.

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind sitting downstairs with a baseball bat, keeping you safe.”

  “And knocking me out when I forget you’re there and clomp downstairs in the morning? Thanks for the offer but no thanks.”

  It was a relief to have her house empty but for her and the kittens. Monkey Business sensed her distress and insisted on jumping onto the bed, curling up near her pillow.

  Any other day, Marjorie would have promptly returned him to his designated bed but tonight she was grateful for the sound of his little engine purring next to her. It helped cover up the creaks and groans as the old house fussed and fidgeted before settling down for the night.

  It only took an instant to go from thinking she’d never fall asleep to waking with the sun creeping over the coverlet. As Marjorie sat straight up in bed in shock, she checked the time. Nearly seven. The latest she’d slept in ages.

  “I hope nobody’s expecting any miracles,” she said to Monkey Business while putting the first of the pikelets onto the griddle. A batch of cheese muffins was already rising in the oven, but the counter display would still look bare compared to normal. “If it wouldn’t take so long to get down there and back, I’d just buy something from the supermarket.”