by Agatha Frost
“I think I remember her.” Julia ventured into her memories from her teenage years. “Jet black hair?”
“It wasn’t natural.” Bev let smoke trickle through her nostrils. “She was mousy, but mousy doesn’t get you noticed on TV. She wasn’t a huge celebrity, but she was known enough. People seemed to like her from what they saw on the TV, but she was nothing like that. She was a cold, cruel woman. She wouldn’t have spit on you if you were on fire unless you had something to offer her. They married six months after meeting. I think Tony was only about twenty-five then. They became the darlings of the news. Judy stopped doing the weather, and they somehow became anchors for the lunchtime news. People loved them, but Tony said it was all for show. They put on that act for nearly a full decade until they were replaced by less demanding people in 1997. They had a reputation for being trouble behind the scenes. Tony said they’d have blazing rows until the moment they went live and had to smile and pretend to be in love. When they were let go, no other channel would touch them. They were blacklisted from ever working in television again. When Cotswold Classic Radio offered Tony a show back here, he didn’t have much choice but to take it. By the end of 1997, Tony and Judy were living in a swanky flat in Cheltenham and Tony was commuting to the studio in Riverswick where they record the radio show.”
Another bus approached, but Bev didn’t move, so neither did Julia.
“How did you meet Tony?” Julia prompted.
“I was working as a cleaner at the studio,” Bev continued after finishing her second cigarette. “He didn’t look twice at me. Why would he? Even in my thirties, I wasn’t a looker. I’d been single for years, and I didn’t expect that to change. I certainly didn’t expect that to change with the Tony Bridges!”
“But it did.”
“Maybe my life would have worked out differently if I’d just left him alone.” Bev stuffed her hands into her pockets. “I was cleaning the studio before Tony’s show one day in the spring of 1998. He came in, and he was talking on the phone about needing an assistant. I was good at typing, and I had a good memory, so I volunteered myself. I thought he’d laugh at me, but he didn’t. He just said ‘okay, you’re hired’, and that was that. Judy would come in every so often, but Tony said she spent most of her time at home, spending his money on the TV shopping channels. She couldn’t get work, and she didn’t seem to want to. She was happy sponging off Tony while he worked at the station. I became his confidante, maybe even his only true friend.” Bev allowed herself a flicker of a smile. “I never expected anything to happen between us, but it did. When he told me he loved me, I knew it was real. He had a beautiful wife at home, but he wanted to be with me. People used to call me Miss Piggy because of my nose, but he never did. He was sweet.”
“Sweet?” Julia asked without realising.
“Back then, yes. He really was.” Bev paused and looked out into the road as another bus came along. This time, she stood and held out her hand. “This is my bus.”
“Mine, too.”
The empty bus pulled up, and the doors shuddered open. Bev climbed on and flashed her return ticket at the driver. Julia followed, realising she had no idea where the bus was going.
“Do you go to Peridale?” Julia asked, quiet enough so Bev couldn’t hear from her seat halfway up the bus.
“Furthest I can take you that way is the Fern Moore estate,” the driver said.
Julia considered telling Bev she had got on the wrong bus, but would she have another opportunity to speak to Tony’s ex-wife, especially when she was being so candid?
“That’s perfect,” Julia said as she pulled her purse out of her bag. “How much?”
“£4.90.”
“Wow.” Julia almost gagged as she pulled out a fresh five-pound note. “I don’t quite remember the busses being that expensive.”
The driver’s expression didn’t crack as he snatched the note from her. He pushed a button on a coin dispensing machine, and a silver ten pence piece fell out. Julia scooped it up. The doors closed behind her, and the bus set off. She fell forward, catching herself on the pole. Bev had positioned herself halfway up the bus, on a pair of seats slightly raised thanks to a step. Instead of sitting on the outside seat, she was next to the window. Julia took that as an invitation to sit down, and Bev didn’t tell her to move when she did.
“You were saying Tony used to be sweet?” Julia prompted, eager to continue her covert interview. “When did he change?”
“Judy fell pregnant in early 2000,” Bev continued, her gaze fixed on the windows as the dark countryside flashed by. “By then, Tony and I had been having our affair for two years. He didn’t say he was leaving Judy, and I didn’t ask him to. I never thought I’d be the woman he ended up with. I appreciated the affection and attention. Sad, really, don’t you think?”
Julia smiled sympathetically, not wanting to let Bev know there were other ways to get affection than from a married man.
“I think Tony really wanted to be a father,” Bev said with a soft smile. “He seemed excited when he told me. He told me he loved me, but he wanted to make his marriage work for the sake of the baby. I understood. How could I not? The baby deserved better than that. It deserved better than Judy being its mother.”
“It?”
“Poor thing didn’t make it far enough for them to find out.” Bev’s face tightened, and her beady eyes turned to slits. “Judy was a heavy drinker, and that positive pregnancy test didn’t stop her. She was a train wreck. She cared more about wallowing in the ashes of her failed television career than her marriage. That was the death knell for them. She packed her things and left, and he didn’t go looking for her. He came to me. The thing I never thought was going to happen actually happened. Their divorce was quick. I think each wanted out as much as the other, and there wasn’t much to fight over. Judy had drained the accounts with her reckless spending, and Tony was living month to month from the radio station. By the end of 2000, Tony and I were married and living together.”
The bus pulled up to another stop, and four tracksuit-clad teenagers climbed on. They each flashed their tickets and ran to the back of the bus. They were playing loud rap music from one of their phones before the doors had closed. The driver glared through the large rear-view mirror, but he didn’t say anything.
“It was good at first,” Bev continued, talking slightly louder thanks to the thudding music. “For a few years, actually. Tony’s radio show was a hit. They were always giving him bonuses and upping his salary, but wasn’t that the way back then? The recession hit, and that’s when things really changed. They stripped everyone’s salaries right back to the wire. Most of the DJs left, but Tony knew he didn’t have many options. He had a hit show on a regional station, but that didn’t mean the bigger stations would pick him up, especially with his name still tarnished with a lot of the higher-ups.”
“How did the recession change him?”
“Tony is a very materialistic man. I mean, he was a materialistic man.” A sad smile overspread Bev’s face, and Julia thought she might cry. “The debt piled up, and the worse things got with the money, the worse Tony got. He was always trying some stunt or scheme to make extra money.”
“Stunts?”
“Slipping in puddles in the supermarket for compensation.” Bev rolled her eyes. “Nonsense like that. Rarely worked. The most he’d get was a small settlement to make him go away.”
“And you were still his assistant?”
“No.” Bev shook her head. “He couldn’t afford me, and I wasn’t going to work for free. I got a part-time cleaning job for a small law firm. It was pocket money, really. It wasn’t really enough to help us out, it just meant a little extra for the food shopping every week. Two years before he left me, things started looking up for Tony. He was nominated for a national broadcasting award. He didn’t win, but he was the first runner-up, which was enough leverage to ask for a pay rise. He threatened to leave, and they knew he would take the listeners with him wherev
er he went. He had offers off the back of almost winning that award, but I don’t think he had the energy to start again.”
The bus stopped again, and another group of teens hopped on. They flashed their tickets, and then, like the others, went straight to the back of the bus. The two groups appeared to know each other and quickly merged. Julia suddenly became very aware of where the gang might be getting off the bus.
“When did Camila come onto the scene?” Julia asked.
The bus stopped once again, and this time, Bev stood.
“This is my stop,” she said, nodding for Julia to move out the way. “Thanks for listening to me witter on. Tony always did say I could chew the ear off anyone who would listen. See you around.”
Julia stood and let Bev off. She almost followed, if only not to be left on a bus with a gang of teens, but she looked out the window, and in the darkness, she was completely disorientated. She considered moving up to the front of the bus until her stop but decided to sit back down in the same seat so as not to draw attention.
She watched Bev walk past the bus with her head down. She turned a corner and vanished from view as the bus set off again. It took Julia a minute to realise they were in Riverswick, but by then it was too late. Julia clasped her hands in her lap and looked straight ahead as the noise from behind grew louder. Swearwords, music, and laughter rattled her eardrums. She sensed that some of the kids had sat in the seats directly behind her. They were looking at her, that she was sure of, but she forced her neck to stay firmly stuck in the forward position.
The familiar concrete tower blocks of the Fern Moore estate came into view, and, as Julia had guessed, the gang jumped up and ran to the bottom of the bus before it came to a halt on the edge of the dimly lit courtyard. The teens burst out when the doors opened.
“C’mon, love,” the driver called down the bus, staring at Julia in the rear-view mirror. “Are you getting off, or what?”
“I’ll get off at the next stop,” Julia said as she scrambled for her purse. “I’ll pay for an extra ticket.”
“End of the line.” The driver pressed something on his control panel, and the main lights turned off, leaving only the floor lights and his cab light. “I haven’t got all night. My wife’s already got the bubble and squeak on the hob.”
Julia wasn’t sure her legs had ever moved so reluctantly before. She clung to each pole as she worked her way to the door, unsure if she’d be able to stand without their help. When she reached the open doors, she glanced back at the driver, but he simply nodded for her to leave.
Fern Moore, while technically sharing a postcode with Peridale, was a million miles away from the village. The two tall, U-shaped towers had been built in the early 1980s as cheap and dense council housing. In all those years, it had never shaken its reputation as being a hotspot for trouble. Peridale residents gave the estate a wide birth, and, for the most part, the Fern Moore inhabitants stayed away from the village. Julia had ventured into the estate on a handful of occasions, but it had yet to disprove its reputation.
The doors snapped shut behind her, and the bus drove off, leaving her alone at the bus stop. The streetlamp ahead flickered as more sleet fell. Julia looked over her shoulder, and even though she couldn’t see much through the graffiti-covered plastic windows of the shelter, it sounded like the gang hadn’t hung around.
Julia considered her options. Her first instinct was to call for a taxi, but after a quick rummage through her purse, she realised she didn’t have enough to get her all the way home thanks to the extortionate bus fare. Her second instinct was to call Barker to ask him to have the money ready on the other side, but that would mean admitting to Barker that she was alone in the dark at the estate. Another option came to her in the shape of a yellow Mini Cooper and knowing that the driver of that Mini would keep a secret if Julia asked her to.
She pulled out her phone to call Jessie, but a preview of a text message from Johnny Watson was on her lock screen:
Spoke to my mum and I found out where…
Unable to resist the lure of information, Julia opened the text message, deciding she would call Jessie after finding out where Johnny’s cousin, Oliver, lived. She was, after all, already at the estate.
Spoke to my mum and I found out where Oliver lives. Flat 88. Took ages for her to find out. He’s always moving around. Remember ur promise, Julia! I want 2 know everything you find out from him. Good luck, detective!!!1! xx
Julia locked her phone. Without the bright screen to distract her from the flickering light, she realised the light had been blocked; she was sitting in the shadow of a gang of hooded and masked teenagers.
“Oi, Snow White,” said one of the teenagers, his voice muffled by a skull balaclava. “Gimme your phone.”
Chapter Eight
Clutching her mobile phone in her fist, Julia stared at the disguised teenager. His deep voice felt somewhat forced, and he had acne on the exposed section of his forehead. Sixteen? Seventeen at a push? Julia knew that should make him less scary, and it might have done if he were alone, but, having the backup of the other nine she quickly counted, his age meant nothing. Besides, a Fern Moore sixteen wasn’t the same as a Peridale sixteen.
“Are you deaf?” the teen cried. “Phone!”
“N-no,” Julia said, regretting the stutter. “No.”
“So, you’re not deaf?”
“No,” she repeated firmer. “And no, I’m not giving you my phone.”
A moment of dead silence followed before the gang erupted into a fit of laughter. They tossed their heads, slapping each other on the backs while Julia calculated her odds of pushing through and outrunning them all the way back to Peridale.
“Wrong answer,” another of the boys said. “Don’t make him ask twice.”
Julia’s fingers tightened around the phone. She attempted to swallow her fear, but the lump in her throat felt like one of Mowgli’s fur balls.
“My husband is on the way,” Julia lied. “He’s a police officer.”
“I’m shaking in my trainers.” The skull teen reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black object. A click of his finger made a shiny blade appear, and even though there was no light, the knife still glittered in the darkness. “Now, are you going to give me your phone?”
Julia handed it over without a second thought. The phone lost all value as she stared at the silver blade. She doubted they would use it for the sake of a budget model smartphone, but she wasn’t about to push them anymore to find out.
“And your bag,” he prodded the knife at Julia’s small handbag. “Now!”
Julia’s fingers trembled as she pulled her bag off her shoulder. Her purse had little in the way of money in it, and her cards would be useless the second she was able to cancel them. The leader snatched the bag off her, and he tossed it to one of the lads at the end of the line, who ripped it open and dug through it.
“It’s full of crap!” he cried, emptying the contents onto the floor.
He kicked through the items, but there was nothing of value, unless a gang of teenage boys needed a packet of tissues, a tube of cherry lip balm, half a packet of chewing gum, a small bottle of hand cream, an even smaller bottle of hand sanitiser, a handful of screwed up receipts, and Julia’s notepad for scribbling recipe ideas and sleuthing notes.
“Check the purse.” He pointed the knife at the end of the line. “She must have something. She’s clearly from Peridale.”
“£5.65 in change,” the teen said as he tossed the coins onto the ground at Julia’s feet, making her jump. “She has plastic. Three of them.”
“PIN numbers.” He pointed the knife at Julia. “And don’t you dare think about lying to me.”
“1979 for the blue one,” Julia said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. “3423 for the black one. 2456 for the other one. That’s my credit card. I think that’s expired.”
“I didn’t ask for your life story!” he cried, shaking the knife at her. “Did someone write those dow
n?”
“Got it,” another of the boys said as he tapped on his phone. “Wait, what was the second one?”
Julia scrambled around in her brain for the made-up number she had just given them.
“3423,” she repeated.
Her pause seemed to go unnoticed, but she had a feeling they weren’t over with her yet. The knife-wielding teen was practically licking his lips at the pearl engagement ring and gold wedding band on her left hand. She tried to hide them under her other hand, but she knew it was too late.
“Thanks for being so cooperative,” the teen said with a smirk in his voice. “We’ll just take your jewellery, and then we’ll be on our way.”
Julia clutched her hand and shook her head. The thought of giving up her mother’s engagement ring and the wedding ring she had only worn for a month hurt more than the thought of being stabbed for them.
“Please,” Julia said. “Please, leave me alone.”
Tears clouded her vision. She knew she must have looked pathetic, but she didn’t care. They had stripped her of her dignity, and she knew they were going to strip her of her rings too, and she couldn’t do anything to stop them. When she felt gloved fingers tugging the rings off her hand, she didn’t put up a fight. A hand ripped open her coat and snatched off the locket Jessie had given her exactly a year ago to celebrate their first anniversary of being in each other’s lives. With their loot in hand, they vanished as quickly as they had arrived, scurrying off into the night, no doubt to try the cards in the nearest cash machine.
She didn’t have time to mourn, she had to get away from the bus shelter as quickly as possible before they came back when they discovered she had been fast on her feet lying about all three of her PIN numbers. She scooped up the contents of her bag as well as much of the leftover change she could find.