The young receptionist seemed to be making progress with the American family and Helen made a mental note of where she had placed her booking confirmation sheet she’d printed off the night before. Now that day one of the conference was over, the realisation that Lucas couldn’t join her set in and she sighed. It would have been so lovely to spend a night out in London together. It had been a long time since that had happened. They could have gone to the restaurant they’d gone to on their first date, a little Italian place just off Charlotte Street. She would have walked him to ‘their’ statue, the place where they’d solidified their love with their first kiss.
She would have told him that he was going to be a father.
That would have definitely provided her husband with better memories of this city, although she understood his disdain for the place. She smiled, the thought of Lucas play fighting with a miniature version of himself, filled her with a love she had never felt before.
“Sorry for the wait, ma’am.” Helen was pulled from her thoughts, greeted by a wide smile from the young lady behind the desk. “Welcome to the Hilton.”
Helen strode up the desk to check in. She handed over her booking confirmation, who immediately began hammering the keys of her computer. Helen quickly checked her phone.
She had a missed call from Mary, whom she had arranged to meet in a few hours. She’d also had a text from Lucas, a message that simply read:
'I love you. Xxx'
A grin spread across her face, she felt so giddy.
She turned her attention to the desk, to complete her check in.
“So it went well then?”
Helen held the phone between her shoulder and her cheek as she used her free hands to straighten the hair framing the other side of her face. Her make-up was already done and she had finally decided on an outfit of a fitted, black shirt, jeans and pair of heeled shoes. She sat at the large dressing table in the far corner of her hotel room. A king-size bed sat in the middle, a flat screen TV attached to the wall facing it. The bathroom was situated near the door, a cupboard for her clothes opposite.
“Yeah, I think so.” Lucas was walking from the bus stop a few streets away from Alex’s house, the carrier bag containing some alcohol and peanuts swinging casually beside him as he strolled. “We got all the cars done, so we shall see.”
“Baby, I am so proud of you!”
“Thank you. You always believe in me and it means a lot.”
“Well of course I do!” Helen replied merrily. “So what are you doing with your night off? Behaving yourself I hope?”
“The usual - Alex and I will probably hit a few strip clubs, do an awful lot of drugs and it’ll probably end up with some sort of inexplicably X-rated orgy involving animals.”
“So the usual then?” Helen giggled. She loved Lucas’s dry sense of humour although he never realised quite how funny he was.
“Alex has bought the Ultimate Fighting pay-per-view, so we are going to have a few beers and watch people beat other people up for money.”
“Is that why you’re not driving tonight?”
Helen shifted the phone to the other shoulder, running the straighteners through the other side of her hair, her eyes locked on the mirror of the dressing table she was sat at to avoid messing it up.
“Well I haven’t had a beer for a few months,” Lucas looked down at the carrier bag swinging in his left hand, the bottles clinking gently. The wind swept through, a moistness in the air hitting his face as it passed. “I fear I am being wildly optimistic by buying four bottles.”
“Whoa! Calm down!”
“I think I have a problem,” Lucas said sternly, eliciting a laugh from his wife. He turned onto Alex’s road, the drizzle turning into more solid drops of rain indicating it was set to dominate another night. He pulled the collar up on his jacket, his beloved gift from his wife.
“I wish you were here tonight,” Helen said dejectedly, turning off the straighteners and admiring her hair in the mirror.
“I know, me too,” Lucas agreed..
“Well I do have some good news for you. Just you wait until I see you tomorrow!” The excitement in Helen’s voice drew a smile from Lucas, as he reached the gate to Alex’s front garden. The garden was immaculate, despite the recent weather, and Lucas was a little envious.
“What is it?”
“You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow, won’t you?”
Helen sniggered over the phone.
“Oh god! Mary isn’t making you get a tattoo is she?”
“No!” Helen laughed again, the cute chuckle that Lucas adored. “I just have a surprise for you, Okay?
“I’m excited now.”
“Well I’m sure you can wait until tomorrow.” Helen pulled her arms through the sleeves of her jacket, ready to leave. “Right my love, I have to go otherwise I’ll be late meeting Mary.”
“Yeah, I’m at Alex’s now too. I’d better go inside, before Dianne sees some creepy guy hanging around outside. Have a lovely time and say hi to Mary for me.”
Helen grinned.
“I will. You have fun with your four beers.” Lucas rolled his eyes, as he opened the gate to Alex’s front garden. “I love you, Lucas.”
Lucas went quiet, hearing her say those words always made him stop in his tracks.
“I love you too.”
Both of them smiled and then Helen hung up the phone and headed out of her hotel room. Lucas pressed the doorbell on Alex’s front door, hearing movement from the other side to suggest he wouldn’t be waiting long.
CHAPTER FIVE
The spring night had a crisp chill hanging in the air however the threat of rain was minimal. Tommy Drayton sat in the driver’s seat of his black cab feeling indifferent about working that evening. He sat up straight, stretching out the ache in his back.
Although he sat behind the wheel, Tommy was a cage fighter, shown by the hulking physique that he possessed. He twisted his body to the left, hearing the crack of his bones and he immediately felt better.
The cab rank he was parked near already had a number of cabs queuing up for business and London seemed awfully quiet for a Saturday night. He checked the clock, realising it was only half past eight and saw the reason why.
He sighed.
This was going to be a long night, but he was under strict orders to pick up his passenger by Russell Square station. His boss could be a real arsehole sometimes.
It had crossed his mind many times how easy it would be to just knock him out but Tommy knew the way the world worked. He understood the need for leadership and for a hierarchy.
Besides, would he want to be running things?
Having to deal with all the complaining, whining people who felt this world owed them more?
No. He told himself that it was just an evening and so he sat back and waited. It may be a few hours, but he only had to do this gig every few months.
He thought about the next fight he had planned and the preceding training he had to undertake. He swept a concrete-like hand through his short, black hair, sweeping it to one side. He glanced around the street, the underground station just a few feet away. Across the road adjacent were a few shops, a supermarket and a coffee chain and that was it. The road directly behind him tailed off towards Euston but to the right was the large Russell Square Park, gated off and dwindling in its population as the night began to seep in.
Tommy leaned back in his chair and waited for his job to begin.
“You ever heard of an umbrella, Fletch?”
Fletcher had left his car at Regent’s Park, the emotional devastation he’d suffered that afternoon had necessitated a long walk in the rain. So by the time he had arrived at Holborn High Road Police station, he was soaked through, much to the dismay of Grace, the receptionist.
“Yeah. I just felt like walking is all.”
Grace raised her eyebrow and Fletcher didn’t know if it was due to confusion or disbelief.
“Well I think there are some t
owels in the cupboard near the locker room. Help yourself.”
She gave him a warm smile which he returned in kind before making his way down the corridor. He walked past a few administration offices and one of the supply cupboards, before needing to remove his ID card to swipe himself through the security door. He passed through easily and continued towards the locker room. Sure enough, in the cupboard were fresh towels and he pulled one out and began dabbing his thinning, white hair.
“Been raining, Fletch?”
Fletcher pulled the towel away from his face, to see Officer Starling standing opposite him, already in his uniform. He smiled warmly at the old detective, raising his mug of what looked like black coffee and took a sip.
“Just a tad.”
“What a fucking surprise,” Starling rolled his eyes, taking another sip. “What are you doing here anyway? It’s Saturday night. Haven’t you got a rave to get to?”
Fletcher laughed. He liked Officer Starling. He reminded him of himself at that age, his warm and friendly personality matching his top notch police skills. The boy would have a stellar career in the Met, Fletcher was sure of it.
“I’m a little too old for raves nowadays,” Fletcher smiled back, running the towel over his hair one more time before opening the locker room door and dropping it in the towel bin just inside.
“Maybe so, but you’re retired Fletch. You shouldn’t be volunteering here during the weeks, let alone on a Saturday night.” Starling seemed genuinely upset that Fletcher didn’t seem to have a life outside of the police. It was something that upset Fletcher himself, but he hid that well behind the drinking.
“Well I love working here. The archives have needed to be organised since before you were even a twinkle in your father’s eye,” Fletcher went on, trying to change the subject. “Besides, I enjoy it.”
“You enjoy it?” Starling didn’t sound convinced as he took the final swig from his mug.
“Well what am I supposed to enjoy?”
Starling looked at him, a smirk filled his face.
“Your retirement.”
Fletcher chuckled. Starling checked his watch.
“What time does your shift start?” Fletcher asked as he eased himself out of his wet coat, his administration badge hanging around his neck and swinging with his tie.
“Ten,” Starling sighed and patted Fletcher strongly on the arm. “I’d better get going anyway, told the missus I’d give her a call before I started. Have a good one Fletch.”
“You too, son.”
They politely smiled and nodded, then Starling stalked off down the corridor, hammering his phone screen with his thumb. Fletcher felt better, happy to see that the job he’d dedicated his life to was having the same fulfilling effect on the next generation.
He went through the nearby double doors and made his way across the busy office to his file-covered desk in the corner.
Lucas and Alex sat forward on the sofa, intently watching the TV, as one of the competitors was knocked to the ground. Lucas took a sip of beer, his third of the night and reached forward for a handful of peanuts. Alex angrily gestured towards the screen.
“You see that? Crap defence! I told you he was weak on that side.”
Dianne had walked into the room behind them, a dressing gown over her large baby bump and damp hair. She had just enjoyed a long, relaxing bath.
“Oh calm down, dear. It’s just a game.”
“It’s not a game, Dianne. It’s a fight.” He looked at Lucas, shaking his head.
“Well whatever, you are not involved, so there is no need for you to get your pants in a bunch.”
“Well it’s a good job I’m not wearing any pants today, isn’t it?”
Lucas almost spat his beer out and Alex looked at him smugly. Dianne slapped him round the back of the head with a rolled up newspaper. She giggled and strode off to the kitchen. Alex rubbed the back of his head, looking at Lucas who was checking his phone. It was almost half past ten and he hadn’t heard from Helen.
“Still no word?”
“No, none yet.” Lucas tried to disguise his worry. “She’s probably yapping away with Mary. You know what they’re like.”
“Yeah, definitely.” Alex looked at the TV, the closing credits of the pay-per-view flowing across the screen in a waterfall of words. “Cards?”
“Cards.” Lucas agreed, nodding and pushing himself up off the couch. Alex wandered to the dining table with him, grabbing a deck of cards from the side shelf on the way through. The two friends sat in two of the four chairs around the oak dining table at the back of Alex’s living room and the host shuffled the deck.
“Thank you for a wonderful night!”
Helen hugged Mary Reid at the doorway to her house, the entrance lit up by a small, glass lamp hanging from the side of the wall, illuminating the neatly arranged flowers hanging in the basket just below.
“Oh it’s been my pleasure. It’s been so good to see you. And I cannot wait for the baby to come!”
Mary shook her hands excitedly, baring her teeth with a big smile. She was slightly rounder than Helen but the same height. She had long, brown hair that bunched out from her head in awesome curls, and had a small dimple in her cheek.
“I know,” Helen rubbed a loving hand gently over her stomach. “I can’t wait to tell Lucas. To see his face.”
She let her words drift and her mind followed close behind. She thought about the look on her husband’s face when the realisation of parenthood hit him. The inevitable tears, the soft soul he kept hidden under the rough, manly exterior.
All she wanted to do was climb into bed next to him and hug him till she slept.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to call you a cab?” Mary snapped Helen back into the conversation.
“Oh, god no. I’ll be fine. It’s just twenty minutes down that way anyway, isn’t it?”
'Yeah, if you walk up that road there and then take a left you head down towards Russell Square. Once you’re through the other side of the park, it’s like five minutes to the Hilton.”
“Simples!” Helen said in a Russian voice, mimicking the meerkat from the TV adverts. Mary laughed.
“Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” Mary leant against the wall of her hallway, as Helen finished buttoning up her coat.
“I quite fancy the walk. Besides, I’ll just pester Lucas.” She beamed at her friend.
“He’s so lucky,” Mary said with obvious sarcasm.
“He knows. I remind him all the time.”
The two friends giggled and embraced once again, Mary wrapping her arms around her friend and making sure not to squeeze her too hard.
“Let me know when you get back, okay?”
“Will do. Bye!”
Helen trotted down the few thick, concrete steps and out through the small, metal gate. She turned back and waved to her friend standing in the doorway and then headed off in the direction of Russell Square. The air was cold and Helen pulled her collar up but she was grateful it wasn’t raining. Her steps echoed, the heel of her shoes clomping against damp, uneven pavement. There was no traffic leaving the roads empty: however she could hear a bus a few streets away. She pulled her phone out of her pocket.
The time was just after eleven p.m.
She flicked through her contacts and selected Lucas and then lifted the phone up to the side of her small, beautiful face.
Nothing happened.
She frowned, pulling the phone from her ear and then tutting with disappointment. The screen was black, with an image of an empty battery flashing in the centre.
“Useless!” Helen cursed, keeping the phone in her hand as she continued walking. Eventually she came to the gates of the park. The trees lining the pathways hanging over the pavement covering it in complete darkness. If she continued on the road, she could walk around the park but it would add another ten minutes to her journey. Suddenly, an angry gust of wind flew by, sweeping up leaves and chilling Helen to the bone. A few drops of rain beg
an to spit from the sky. She nervously looked at her phone, still no signal.
It would only take five minutes.
Five minutes and she would be out by Russell Square station.
Then she would head straight to the hotel.
With his head resting against the driver’s door window, Tommy had dozed off. Still in the exact spot that he’d been parked in for the last few hours, he was snoring softly, his neck arched at a horrible angle that would undoubtedly stiffen the next day.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated on the dashboard and the text message tone chimed out loudly.
Tommy awoke with a snarl, taking a few moments to familiarise himself with the surroundings, remind himself where he was and why. He looked at the clock buried within the dashboard, under the fare counter.
11:15pm.
He blinked the remaining sleep from his vision and gently slapped the side of his face, encouraging himself to wake up. He stretched the top of his back and snatched up the phone. He pressed the button, the screen illuminating his face and the car around it.
“Five minutes. Look alive.”
The message was clear and concise and Tommy turned the key in the ignition. His headlights came on as the engine roared into life. He pulled his seat belt across, indicated and then pulled out onto the main road.
It had only been two weeks, but Starling was thrilled to be working with Officer Henry Boulder. The man was hilarious. Starling had to breathe through the laughs before turning to his colleague.
“Do it again!” he demanded through broken chuckles.
“Okay, last time.” Boulder’s voice was deeper than you would expect, his small frame and messy hair hardly making him an imposing figure. Especially in comparison to Starling, who had more than a few admirers from the women within his team.
One by One: A brutal, gritty revenge thriller that you won't be able to put down. Page 7