Read Online To Catch a Creeper by Ellie Campbell - Free Book Online
Authors: Ellie Campbell
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that stupid ancient video recorder where it just records the channels you’re tuned into. Haven’t you changed that yet?’
‘Not got around to it. You have to buy an extra cable box or something. Anyhow it goes onto this new-agey spiritual programme.’
‘Bo-o-o-ring.’ Rosa gives a fake yawn.
‘Yeah, then a
Have I Got News for You
repeat, then History Channel, then some hot ITV drama, all sweaty bodies and naked writhings.’
‘Where it stayed, obviously. Boys will be boys.’ Rosa rolls her eyes.
‘No. And that was what was odd. It channel-hopped a bit more, then went back to the new-agey programme. All about rebirthing, repressed memories, Primal pain, etc. Not Declan’s type of thing at all.’
Rosa’s looking strangely flustered.
‘And there it stayed – right until it finished. What?’
She’s shaking her head.
‘Oh dear,’ I continue. ‘You don’t think it means anything, do you?’
‘No…I…I…’ she starts to stutter.
‘Alec’s not been doing the same has he?’ She’s looking really worried now, as if she knows something I don’t. As if there’s been a big conspiracy of some sort and the only one who doesn’t know is me. As if she’s about to break a confidence, she’s sworn never to break. ‘There’s something you’re not letting on to me about, isn’t there, Rosa?’ I prise gently.
‘No, Cathy,’ she grabs my hand, almost crushing it.
‘Yes there is. I can tell. There’s not been a cult movement infiltrating Wilson’s has there? They’ve not been taken over by the Scientologists, have they? Is it something Alec’s heard? Just nod when I guess correctly. Not about Hugh, is it? Declan didn’t really kill him, did he?’
She looks down at her lap, as if in deep mortal shame.
‘Or…’ I silently pass up a quick prayer. Please don’t say it’s to do with Neil and the Crouch End Creeper? ‘You know something about a lambswool coat?’ I pass her a meaningful look and take a quick bite of my éclair.
‘No,’ she says finally in an odd flat voice. ‘Help me, Cathy. Help me. I think the baby’s coming.’
Chapter 6
‘She’ll be tickled pink to see you.’
‘Let’s hope so.’ Declan pulls up at a traffic light and tugs on the handbrake. ‘Poor love.’
Thursday again. One week since Rosa was taken to hospital.
It was all blaring sirens and blue lights and everyone rushing blindly around, holding up lifts, propping open doors, etc. Then a whole gaggle of guys dressed in fluorescent jackets like something out of outer space came running into the office with a stretcher, oxygen tanks, defibrillators, the lot. All very dramatic.
I may have exaggerated the problem slightly, but it wasn’t really my fault, the operator got it all wrong. I was rather bewildered at first, you see. I think my worry about Jim Pansy, Declan killing Hugh and Scientologists infiltrating Wilson’s had thrown me off because when Rosa mentioned the baby being on its way, I was initially excited, actually clapping with glee, thinking about names and considering calling Declan to nip out and buy a pressie when all of a sudden I realised why she was looking so horror-struck. Turned out it wasn’t the thought of childbirth; she’d been looking forward to that part in a macabre kind of way, but that the baby wasn’t due for ages. Much too early. And although some premature babies do survive, many of them haven’t had their lungs formed properly and it was a hugely dangerous situation.
So I shoved the éclair in my hand into my mouth, dialled 999 and when I got through to the operator, I said, ‘It’s my best friend, Rosa. She’s bleeding…’
‘Breathing?’ The operator queried.
‘No, not breathing.’ I chewed a lot and swallowed fast before adding, ‘Bleeding.’
And so then there was a crackle on the line and she said. ‘NOT BREATHING!’ in an alarmed voice and requested my address and details, before telling me to wait a second in a firm tone. Then someone
‘Not got around to it. You have to buy an extra cable box or something. Anyhow it goes onto this new-agey spiritual programme.’
‘Bo-o-o-ring.’ Rosa gives a fake yawn.
‘Yeah, then a
Have I Got News for You
repeat, then History Channel, then some hot ITV drama, all sweaty bodies and naked writhings.’
‘Where it stayed, obviously. Boys will be boys.’ Rosa rolls her eyes.
‘No. And that was what was odd. It channel-hopped a bit more, then went back to the new-agey programme. All about rebirthing, repressed memories, Primal pain, etc. Not Declan’s type of thing at all.’
Rosa’s looking strangely flustered.
‘And there it stayed – right until it finished. What?’
She’s shaking her head.
‘Oh dear,’ I continue. ‘You don’t think it means anything, do you?’
‘No…I…I…’ she starts to stutter.
‘Alec’s not been doing the same has he?’ She’s looking really worried now, as if she knows something I don’t. As if there’s been a big conspiracy of some sort and the only one who doesn’t know is me. As if she’s about to break a confidence, she’s sworn never to break. ‘There’s something you’re not letting on to me about, isn’t there, Rosa?’ I prise gently.
‘No, Cathy,’ she grabs my hand, almost crushing it.
‘Yes there is. I can tell. There’s not been a cult movement infiltrating Wilson’s has there? They’ve not been taken over by the Scientologists, have they? Is it something Alec’s heard? Just nod when I guess correctly. Not about Hugh, is it? Declan didn’t really kill him, did he?’
She looks down at her lap, as if in deep mortal shame.
‘Or…’ I silently pass up a quick prayer. Please don’t say it’s to do with Neil and the Crouch End Creeper? ‘You know something about a lambswool coat?’ I pass her a meaningful look and take a quick bite of my éclair.
‘No,’ she says finally in an odd flat voice. ‘Help me, Cathy. Help me. I think the baby’s coming.’
Chapter 6
‘She’ll be tickled pink to see you.’
‘Let’s hope so.’ Declan pulls up at a traffic light and tugs on the handbrake. ‘Poor love.’
Thursday again. One week since Rosa was taken to hospital.
It was all blaring sirens and blue lights and everyone rushing blindly around, holding up lifts, propping open doors, etc. Then a whole gaggle of guys dressed in fluorescent jackets like something out of outer space came running into the office with a stretcher, oxygen tanks, defibrillators, the lot. All very dramatic.
I may have exaggerated the problem slightly, but it wasn’t really my fault, the operator got it all wrong. I was rather bewildered at first, you see. I think my worry about Jim Pansy, Declan killing Hugh and Scientologists infiltrating Wilson’s had thrown me off because when Rosa mentioned the baby being on its way, I was initially excited, actually clapping with glee, thinking about names and considering calling Declan to nip out and buy a pressie when all of a sudden I realised why she was looking so horror-struck. Turned out it wasn’t the thought of childbirth; she’d been looking forward to that part in a macabre kind of way, but that the baby wasn’t due for ages. Much too early. And although some premature babies do survive, many of them haven’t had their lungs formed properly and it was a hugely dangerous situation.
So I shoved the éclair in my hand into my mouth, dialled 999 and when I got through to the operator, I said, ‘It’s my best friend, Rosa. She’s bleeding…’
‘Breathing?’ The operator queried.
‘No, not breathing.’ I chewed a lot and swallowed fast before adding, ‘Bleeding.’
And so then there was a crackle on the line and she said. ‘NOT BREATHING!’ in an alarmed voice and requested my address and details, before telling me to wait a second in a firm tone. Then someone
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