Read Online The Locker by Adrian Magson - Free Book Online

the house, trying to pick up a sense of him, a feeling that at least a part of him was here with her when she needed it. But all she got was Beth and Tiggi, the perfume of one and the child-smell of the other.
    She sat on the double bed in her bedroom, then stood and went through to Beth’s room, anxious and agitated. Sight of the empty bed made her start crying again, and she finally gave in and allowed herself to erupt in sobs, throwing herself down on the duvet cover with a pink princess motif that was her daughter’s favourite; Beth didn’t even like it being taken away to wash, and would stand by the tumble dryer waiting for the cycle to end before snatching it out and rushing upstairs to place it back on her bed, beaming with pleasure as her world was put right again.
    Nancy took a deep breath. Sat up and wiped her face. What if Beth came back right now? What if those two investigators appeared at the front door with her in tow? How would it look if Beth saw her own mother, red-faced and puffy-eyed , standing there?
    She went through to the bathroom and splashed water on her eyes, patting away the droplets with a towel before forcing her breathing to settle. Control. She had to remain in control. Michael would expect nothing less of her.
    Except that Michael wasn’t here, dealing with this problem. She was.
    She caught sight of herself in the mirror. God, she looked like a disaster victim, her hair stringy and wild, her normally clear skin blotchy and red.
    She got changed out of her gym clothes, dumping them in the wash basket even though they were clean. Washing them would take away the association she wanted to avoid: the gym and the note. She put on jeans and a jumper. Back to normal. At least, in part.
    She walked back downstairs and stood in the kitchen, staring at the phone. Why didn’t Michael call? She was accustomed to his silences, to his long absences. It was something she had been forced to accept about him, the side of his life that put duty and others above himself and his family, that allowed him to deliberately distance himself. But right now, at this moment, she needed him to forget about duty and calling and be here for her and Beth—even if only at the end of a line.
    Bloody duty. She suddenly hated the very notion, and felt not a trace of guilt.
    She switched on the television in an effort to fill the living room with noise and colour, to push away the dread thoughts about where Beth might be; what she might be feeling; how she was being treated.
    DO tell your husband. Beth’s life …
    Unable to hold back, the tears began to flow.

nine
    â€œFraser? I heard about her.” Vaslik barely waited to step away from the front door before making the comment Ruth knew was coming.
    â€œNot my call,” she said neutrally, surprised that office gossip had got to him already. “The bosses must think she’s up to it.”
    He looked doubtful and she couldn’t blame him. It was a harsh judgement but they worked in an environment where a client’s life—and possibly that of a colleague—might depend on a person’s ability to react instinctively. She knew others who had been shot and never fully recovered, their previous edge lost in one stroke. It was a hard truth for any professional to stomach.
    Vaslik shrugged and walked away across the street, where he began scribbling on his clipboard, bending to check out numbers on water meter panels. Ruth did the same on her side, occasionally stopping to go to a front door and knock. There weren’t many takers, each time receiving a smile if she was lucky and an assurance that their water pressure was fine.
    â€œJust checking,” she told each one. “We’ve had a complaint about a drop in pressure. It could have been a temporary blockage.”
    â€œIf it was her up at thirty seven,” said one woman, pointing to the far end of the street, “you shouldn’t take any notice.