Read Online Absent Light by Eve Isherwood - Free Book Online

attacked his car with the hose as if it were a dog that had rolled in fresh cow-shit. Every time she thought he’d finished, he pushed the button for an extra wash. There was a lot of fumbling underneath, the hose poised just so to get the full effect. It looked highly suspicious, forcing her to seriously consider what he was eradicating. She switched off the radio, and found herself watching with a professional eye. Water was the enemy of forensics. Critical trace evidence could easily be washed away. Fibres might remain – if you were lucky. Then she pinched herself, jolting back to the present. You’re not in the business any more, she told herself, you walked away, left it all behind.
    Twenty-five minutes later, he waved her in and drove off. Probably a wannabe BMW driver, she concluded with a smile, as she got out and fed the meter.
    Jen lived in Bristol Road, in an annexe of her parent’s Regency townhouse. She represented the new breed of stay-at-home older children who ate into their parents’ pensions. While Helen fled from her home environment at the first opportunity, Jen chose a rent-free roof over her head the size of a football pitch, her washing done, meals when she wanted them, and all the freedom because Jen’s parents were fond of travelling. At the present time, they were whooping it up in Cuba.
    Helen parked on the gravelled drive. Loud music was belting out from Jen’s side of the house. Helen walked in and was greeted by George, the family’s bearded collie-cross. As she squatted down to pat him, he stuck both muddy paws on her chest and licked her face. Not much of a guard-dog, she thought fondly, stroking his hairy head.
    â€œTell George to bugger off,” Jen called from a small galleried area that had been converted into a kitchen. The rest of the annexe was open-plan, which meant that guests could as easily sit on the large double bed as on the sofa. The idea was that certain spaces had their own distinct functions but Jen was so pathologically untidy, everything seemed to meld into one big mess. The bathroom was the only sane bit, tucked at the other end of the gallery with proper doors that locked.
    Helen gave George an affectionate shove, crossed the obstacle course that covered several hundred square feet of floor, and went up the two steps to the kitchen.
    â€œWhat do you reckon to this?” Jen said, holding out a soup ladle. Pink-faced, she was wearing denims and an old sweater that failed to conceal her voluptuous build. Her long blonde hair was unceremoniously pinned up on top of her head.
    Helen sniffed it. “What is it?”
    â€œChicken Gloop.”
    â€œSounds dodgy.”
    â€œOh ye of little faith. Go on, give it a try.”
    Helen tasted it. “Funnily enough, it’s quite nice. What else are we cooking?”
    â€œIndustrial-sized quantities of Beef in Beer, George’s favourite,” Jen regarded him affectionately as he trotted into the kitchen and slumped down near her feet. “What is it with dogs? They always park themselves in the most inconvenient places.” She gave him a gentle nudge with her foot.
    Helen knelt down and stroked his soft, fluffy coat. George gave a contented grunt and closed his eyes.
    â€œNo, you don’t,” Jen said, clapping her hands, “Come on, up Georgie boy, you’ll have to go in the parent-pad.” George twitched his hairy eyebrows, got up with great reluctance and threw Helen a reproachful look.
    â€œWhat do you want me to do?” Helen said as Jen carted George away.
    â€œSaved you a special job.” Jen had a wicked light in her eyes.
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œMake a start on the onions.”
    â€œWow,” Jen said, goggle-eyed.
    Helen flinched at Jen’s too obvious enthusiasm.
    They were taking a well-earned break. Helen was beginning to wonder whether she’d ever recover. God knows how many onions she’d peeled, but the