Read Online Dying to Write by Judith Cutler - Free Book Online

them to listen. A woman like Kate doesn’t go walkabout, Sophie – does she?’
    â€˜Is that what Chris – the policeman – is saying?’
    â€˜You know he buggered off hours ago. Nothing to do till they get the PM report on Nyree, he says. And it’s twenty-four hours before they consider someone missing. That’s a long time, Sophie.’
    I made the tea.
    â€˜Is anything missing from her room?’
    â€˜How should I know?’
    â€˜Just wondered. And – Christ, Matt, has anyone fed Sidney?’
    â€˜Sidney? Oh, the rodent. Never thought. Come on, bring your tea and we’ll go and see.’
    â€˜You’re not keen on rats,’ I observed as we went upstairs.
    â€˜It’s their tails. Don’t mind their front ends, and I quite like their starry little feet, but it’s their tails. Come on, we’ll go through my room.’
    The tutors’ rooms were impressive, now I had time to look round. There was a study-bedroom, larger than an average bed-sit and comfortably furnished. Then there was a private bathroom, luxurious with mahogany and brass, with a dense carpet and a proliferation of towels.
    Then Kate’s bathroom, a mirror image of Matt’s, and into Kate’s room.
    Sidney’s cage was empty.
    Matt groaned. ‘Why didn’t I think of that before? The bloody animal’s got out and she’s looking for it!’
    That seemed to be the logical explanation; I wanted to accept it. But I couldn’t stop asking myself: ‘Why didn’t she leave a note – ask us to keep an eye open for him? And surely she’d have been back by now?’
    â€˜She may have lost track of the time.’
    â€˜She must have left before the Nyree business. It’s – what? – three twenty now. That’s a long time to be hunting a rat with no help.’
    â€˜So you think she might have gone looking and been taken ill?’
    â€˜I wish I knew what to think, Matt. My brain’s still fuzzy; I thought running would help but –’
    In my mind’s eye I suddenly saw Naukez, heard the invisible presence in the woods.
    â€˜I think we should talk to Chris Groom again,’ I said.

Chapter Five
    Although I knew it would be impossible, I tried to make myself write for what little remained of the afternoon. I sat in my room and stared and doodled and achieved not even a kind memory of George. Eventually I gave up and went in search of strong coffee. The kitchen was full, of course: I made myself scarce as soon as I could. But I didn’t want to go back to the silence and the unyielding pen and pad. I went out on the terrace again, to find Shazia with a watering can and a grim expression, staring at Toad’s back.
    â€˜And when I want your advice I’ll ask for it,’ she muttered.
    After a moment she started moving regularly across the paving stones. I decided not to make a joke about weedkiller. Instead, without preamble, I launched into my worries about Kate.
    Shazia agreed with me: Kate was simply not the sort of woman to go off for such a long time without telling anyone. As soon as Chris returned – he’d left a message with her saying he’d be back by seven – I should talk to him, she said. With or without her and Matt in support. I was to decide.
    I retired to a bench in the watery sun to think. Somehow. I still felt hazy, as if I were missing on one of my cylinders. It would be terribly easy to drowse off, even now.
    But something was executing a tap-dance on my left foot. I made my eyes focus downwards. Sidney!
    I looked around hopefully: maybe Kate was somewhere in view. She was not.
    Sidney continued to tap.
    His fur was sodden, and lay in dark feathers across his flanks. He must have been burrowing through the wilder parts of the estate – there were bits of grass and a couple of dandelion petals garnishing his head.
    Now it came to it, I wasn’t sure how I felt