otherwise.’
‘Oh, I see. So this is all about me trying to save you some embarrassment? I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how to tell you, did I? Come on, Kate . . .’ He was trying to talk her round now, he’d realised she really was leaving him. ‘I panicked, I was bloody mortified . . . Surely you can see that . . .’
Kate shook her head slowly. ‘I saw a girl who had been battered and tortured, and all you saw was how to save your own arse. I’m working on this case with Annie, we are going to find this nutter, and if that means you get a tug in the process then tough shit.’
Pat was weary now, he had no fight left in him. He saw the determination in her, felt the anger that he knew was justified in part, but he still felt was way over the top. She should have seen all this from his point of view, should have understood his dilemma. She should have been watching his back.
‘Fair enough. You go. And, for the record, Kate, you ain’t a real Filth any more, remember?’
With that he walked into the house and Kate got into her car. As she drove away she resisted the urge to look back. She knew he wouldn’t be looking.
Lucy was already inside the flat when she heard the music and she smiled to herself. Janie loved Oasis, she listened to them constantly. The music told her that she wasn’t entertaining a punter.
She walked through to the kitchen and put the kettle on, calling out for Janie as she went. She assumed Janie was in the shower, getting rid of her make-up and turning herself back into a regular person.
Lucy made the tea and noticed the answering machine was flashing. She pressed the Play button and listened to a litany of punters asking for a call back. That wasn’t unusual. What was unusual, however, was that these messages were all from the night before. They had started at eleven-fifteen, and each one asked why they had not been given access to the premises.
Lucy was nervous now. The Oasis music had somehow become the Spice Girls. She strained her ears in an effort to listen, was terrified that someone was in the flat, someone dangerous. She could hear her own heart beating inside her chest. She called out her friend’s name once again.
She removed a knife from a drawer as quietly as she could and, holding it tightly against her chest, she walked out of the kitchen and towards the front room. She was sweating with fear. She knew something was wrong, knew that it didn’t feel right. There was a really awful smell coming from somewhere and she couldn’t place it, but she knew it wasn’t good.
Pushing the do had been everything to her, and sNck bhe had or open she looked inside the room. It was perfect, not a thing out of place. She turned towards the bedroom and, breathing as quietly as she could, she stepped towards the door. It was shut tight.
The sound of the radio was loud in the hallway, and Lucy tried to convince herself that she was overreacting. But she still couldn’t bring herself to open the door. She wondered if Janie had copped herself an all-nighter, they were rare these days, but not unheard of. Lots of men wanted to wake up with a girl beside them, it was only the price that stopped them getting their heart’s desire.
Lucy saw her reflection in the hallway mirror; she looked ridiculous standing there with a knife in her hand and her face like a terrified child’s. She wiped a hand over her face, her sensible head was telling her not to be stupid. Finally she plucked up the courage and pushed the bedroom door open, calling out gaily, ‘You in there, Janie? You all right, mate?’
Kate was unpacking her bags. As she hung up her clothes and placed her shoes in the bottom of the old-fashioned wardrobe she tried not to think about the day’s events. The room wasn’t bad, she had just forgotten how small the house was in comparison to Patrick’s.
This had been her home for a long time, and she had always resisted the urge to sell it. To get
‘Oh, I see. So this is all about me trying to save you some embarrassment? I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how to tell you, did I? Come on, Kate . . .’ He was trying to talk her round now, he’d realised she really was leaving him. ‘I panicked, I was bloody mortified . . . Surely you can see that . . .’
Kate shook her head slowly. ‘I saw a girl who had been battered and tortured, and all you saw was how to save your own arse. I’m working on this case with Annie, we are going to find this nutter, and if that means you get a tug in the process then tough shit.’
Pat was weary now, he had no fight left in him. He saw the determination in her, felt the anger that he knew was justified in part, but he still felt was way over the top. She should have seen all this from his point of view, should have understood his dilemma. She should have been watching his back.
‘Fair enough. You go. And, for the record, Kate, you ain’t a real Filth any more, remember?’
With that he walked into the house and Kate got into her car. As she drove away she resisted the urge to look back. She knew he wouldn’t be looking.
Lucy was already inside the flat when she heard the music and she smiled to herself. Janie loved Oasis, she listened to them constantly. The music told her that she wasn’t entertaining a punter.
She walked through to the kitchen and put the kettle on, calling out for Janie as she went. She assumed Janie was in the shower, getting rid of her make-up and turning herself back into a regular person.
Lucy made the tea and noticed the answering machine was flashing. She pressed the Play button and listened to a litany of punters asking for a call back. That wasn’t unusual. What was unusual, however, was that these messages were all from the night before. They had started at eleven-fifteen, and each one asked why they had not been given access to the premises.
Lucy was nervous now. The Oasis music had somehow become the Spice Girls. She strained her ears in an effort to listen, was terrified that someone was in the flat, someone dangerous. She could hear her own heart beating inside her chest. She called out her friend’s name once again.
She removed a knife from a drawer as quietly as she could and, holding it tightly against her chest, she walked out of the kitchen and towards the front room. She was sweating with fear. She knew something was wrong, knew that it didn’t feel right. There was a really awful smell coming from somewhere and she couldn’t place it, but she knew it wasn’t good.
Pushing the do had been everything to her, and sNck bhe had or open she looked inside the room. It was perfect, not a thing out of place. She turned towards the bedroom and, breathing as quietly as she could, she stepped towards the door. It was shut tight.
The sound of the radio was loud in the hallway, and Lucy tried to convince herself that she was overreacting. But she still couldn’t bring herself to open the door. She wondered if Janie had copped herself an all-nighter, they were rare these days, but not unheard of. Lots of men wanted to wake up with a girl beside them, it was only the price that stopped them getting their heart’s desire.
Lucy saw her reflection in the hallway mirror; she looked ridiculous standing there with a knife in her hand and her face like a terrified child’s. She wiped a hand over her face, her sensible head was telling her not to be stupid. Finally she plucked up the courage and pushed the bedroom door open, calling out gaily, ‘You in there, Janie? You all right, mate?’
Kate was unpacking her bags. As she hung up her clothes and placed her shoes in the bottom of the old-fashioned wardrobe she tried not to think about the day’s events. The room wasn’t bad, she had just forgotten how small the house was in comparison to Patrick’s.
This had been her home for a long time, and she had always resisted the urge to sell it. To get
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