EPISODE SEVENTY-TWO
Curiosity rather than sympathy drew Vanessa to
her sister’s bedroom door when she heard snuffling, sobbing sounds. Vanessa tapped gently on the Franz Ferdinand
poster covering the door, and entered.
She found Nicky sprawled across the bed, cuddling Polzeath, a well-worn
teddy bear, named after a Cornish seaside resort; and memento of a family
holiday, from a time when they were still a proper family.
‘What’s up?’ Vanessa asked. Nicky
carried on crying. Vanessa sighed and
eased herself onto the edge of the bed, stroking her sister’s hair. ‘Tell me.’
Nicky lifted her head out of Polzeath’s damp. Threadbare fur. ‘Where’s Mummy?’ she cried pathetically.
‘Gone out. Shopping. Then she’s going
straight to the church hall to rehearse her play. She won’t be back until quite late. You can tell me what’s wrong, if you like.’
Nicky sniffed and wiped a hand over her smeared face. ‘It’s Jason.’
A cold feeling of guilt shot through Vanessa.
‘What about him?’
‘We’ve become...lovers. Only...’
‘Go on.’
Tears filled Nicky’s eyes again. Her
voice trembled as she struggled to control herself. ‘He was the first man in my life. The very first. It should have been special. But afterwards he couldn’t wait to get me out
of his flat. He was only after one
thing. And now he’s had it, he doesn’t
want to know.’
‘Has he said he doesn’t want to see you again?’
‘Well, not in so many words. No. But
I’ve been trying to contact him since yesterday and...’
Alarm bells rung in Vanessa’s head.
‘Saturday! Is that when you slept
with him?’
‘Well I did sleep with him yesterday.
But that wasn’t the first time.’
Vanessa’s voice became strident. ‘What
time was this?’
‘Eleven
o’clock.
Why? What difference does it
make?’
‘Nothing. I just wondered.’
Vanessa chewed her bottom lip nervously and thought about Jason. No wonder he’d wanted her out of his flat by nine o’clock. He’d been
seeing Nicky afterwards. Was this
something he’d planned in advance? Had
he known Vanessa would agree to go back to his flat on Friday night? He seemed so cocksure of himself. So arrogant.
And what about his strange behaviour?
As if she could read her sister’s thoughts, Nicky said, ‘He was a bit weird.’
Vanessa frowned. She could almost guess
what was coming. ‘In what way?’
‘Well, as a lover he seemed very – er, how can I put it? – he seemed very
skilful. Very thoughtful, about taking
precautions. It’s just that afterwards,
he brought out one of those little tape recorders – you know, one of those
dictating machines. And he wanted me to
say something about our loving.’
Vanessa’s voice was barely a whisper when she spoke. ‘[What sort of thing did he want you to say?’
‘Just that we’d made love on such and such a date. Like he wanted to keep a record of it.’
‘Maybe he wanted proof.’
‘What for?’
‘I wish I knew.’
Nicky stared at her sister, frowning. ‘What a peculiar thing to say.’
‘How d’you mean?’
‘You said you wish you knew like you were personally involved.’
Vanessa gave Nicky’s hand a gentle squeeze and avoided her eyes. ‘Well, you are my sister. And even though I’m younger than you, for
some strange reason, I’ve always thought of you as “my little sister”, as
though I’m the older one. I suppose that’s because...well, I’m not sure why,
really.’
Vanessa stopped herself saying it was because Nicky was so silly and babyish.
*
Late Monday morning, his mind racing from the sweet excitement of deception,
Ted arrived home breathless after hurrying across the common burdened by rolls
of wallpaper Marjorie had ordered.
‘I’m in the kitchen,’ Marjorie called out when she heard him come in. He went into the kitchen and found her
sitting at the table, idly flicking through a Mothercare catalogue and sipping
cream sherry.
‘You shouldn’t be drinking in your condition,’ he said.
Marjorie gave him a sidelong glance.
‘What would you know about it?’
‘I do know that...’ Ted began, but she interrupted him.
‘A bit of what you fancy can’t do any harm.
Everything in moderation.’
Ted regarded the sherry bottle disapprovingly.
‘Hmm!’ he mumbled pointedly, which irritated Marjorie. She gave him the news he’d benn
anticipating.’
‘They want you in this afternoon.’
‘Who?’
‘Who! Who d’you think? While you were
out...they called from work.’
Ted acted out disappointment. ‘Oh no!’
‘Man said he was from Connex Trains,’ continued Marjorie. ‘Only I thought they were called something
else now.’
‘Old habits and that. It’s a blooming
nuisance having to work on my day off.’
‘It’s never bothered you before.’
‘No, but I thought I could make a start on the nursery.’
Marjorie snapped the catalogue shut and thumped it down on the table. ‘That’s good quality wallpaper, that is. I know what you’re papering’s like. I don’t want one of your botched jobs. So I’m getting the proper man in.’
Ted glanced at his watch. ‘Well, I’m
going to need a lot of overtime then, to pay for it. Did they say what time they wanted me in?’
‘As soon as you can make it. Staff
shortages, they said. There’s a lot of
stomach bugs and flu going around.
Change in the weather, I expect.
So you’d better go back to the spare room for a while. I don’t want to catch anything in my
condition.’
Ted started edging towards the door.
‘I’ll be off then. I’ll chuck my
uniform in my bag and change at work.’
‘Chap who telephoned,’ said Marjorie, ‘had a very posh voice.’
Ted looked at her blankly. ‘Must be new.’
His hear racing, Ted dashed upstairs and bundled his uniform into his sports
bag, called out goodbye to Marjorie and hurried out of the house. Donald’s Volvo was parked, with the engine
idling, just round the corner on Mount
Ephraim. Ted threw his
bag onto the back seat and settled into the passenger seat.
‘Well,’ smiled Donald, ‘presumably she fell for it.’
‘Hook, line and sinker. Only she thought
you sounded posh.’
Donald laughed. ‘Right. Twelfth
Night here we come. We’ve loads of
time to spare. But parking’s going to be
the problem.’
‘What did you tell Bamber?’ asked Ted.
‘I told him I needed to buy someone’s stock in Portobello Road, which is why we’ve got to drive to London.’
‘Why can’t we park at Tonbridge and catch the train?’ suggested Ted.
‘You don’t know Bamber. He’s probably
noted the mileage on the clock of the Volvo, and will check it tomorrow.’
Donald laughed confidently, thinking he was one step ahead of his partner. But Bamber was at that moment lurking on the
common, watching the Volvo as it pulled away from the kerb. All along he’d been suspicious about Donald’s
trip to London, so he’d closed the antique shop, and walked up
towards where Ted lived, and now he’d been proved right.
IN EPISODE SEVENTY-THREE
During the first day at his London job, Pran suspects he is going to have problems, and
Craig has a visit from the police.