The Girl With Nine Lives Page 5
Yeah, my best friend was a talking cat, but I realised I was incredibly happy. It was like having a part of my past come back to me, maybe even a part of myself. Something to say- that time isn’t forgotten. I was there too. And although we didn’t talk about Tamworth, Barry, or the things that were plaguing my mind, we took each day at a time. One day I would deal with that stuff, but at the moment, I was repairing my spirit.
The anniversary of my Granddad’s death had come and gone, and Ben had come with me to the church yard, which my family was finding strange. I had argued that whereas they have their dogs to go with them everywhere, so did Ben. He wasn’t too happy that I had compared him to a dog and wouldn’t speak to me until I had promised to buy him a new catnip toy.
St Wilfred’s was a place I went to simply to sit and talk to my Granddad, cousin and uncle. Sounds excessive? I suppose it was. A lot of needless deaths in our family. St Wilfred’s was a place I cleared my head and started again.
“I get most of my answers from here, Ben,” I said as I knelt by my Granddad’s graveside. “Whenever I get the most desperate, I come here.”
I didn’t have to say anything to Ben about the way I felt. I think he knew. He was a silent pale orange present in a world of grey. My Granddad was my dad in so many ways. We grew up in his house, were there every weekend, every holiday, and moved in with him when we moved from Tamworth. He was everything- an inspiration. He was a male force that I wanted to be proud of me. I needed that space filled where Barry had walked out of- not that he had ever tried to contribute anything towards it. I suppose even now I am damaged from it. Always striving for approval. Always trying to push myself and achieve the most I can to make someone proud of me. Or maybe I was trying to convince myself I was someone worth to love.
When people talk about the end, they always describe it as a relief for old people. Movies depict it was a peaceful thing that happens with a sunset and birds flying over trees. It isn’t. Cancer is an ugly, evil thing that chokes, twists and starves.
Every day is a dedication to him. Sometimes I forget he is gone. The most significant and amazing man in my life. Sometimes I felt as though I had no place to grieve for him as powerfully as his children. I was a grandchild. But he was my dad in so many ways, and I loved him so much.
Every day I prayed that he knew how much I loved him, and how sorry I was that I wasn’t there at the end.
I sat there in the pub, surrounded by friends, envisioning a future ahead, and someone who would be at home waiting for me. Hey- it was my cat, but it counted for something.
I was getting a bit tipsy by the time I started ranting about the poor service from Public Relations at the college.
My friend, Emily gasped at the mention. “Public Relations?” she said. “At the college?”
“Yes, and yes,” I said, nodding to both questions.
“I’ve had an interview for there last week!”
We both laughed and I said I pitied her. She was applying for the post of administration assistant in the department. I told her not to mention she knew me else she probably would get sacked- that’s if she got the job. I half prayed for her own sake that she wouldn’t.
I liked Emily. I hated the fact that men seemed to take advantage of her. I think she was a bit like me. She just wanted to be loved. I think when dads leave their daughters then they are left craving for some sort of love- somehow desperate to prove they are worthy of it. God knows I’ve been there.
But she was definitely a looker. The longest blonde hair I would love for her to cut into a bob, big model lips, always glossed a subtle pink or ravishing red and a natural beauty and innocence that made you just want to squeeze her.
I was glad that she was trying to get somewhere in her career. She worked at the Perfume Shop in town and every birthday present, although perfume, was always some gorgeous scent that I used until I ran out. She was one of the few in Nuneaton that constantly smelt good.
I went to the toilet whilst she got us some more drinks and I stared at my reflection as I washed my hands. My eyes are grey like Barry’s- but I liked to say it was from my Nan’s side of the family on my mother’s side. My hair was blonde like my mother’s (ok, it was dyed) and I was aiming for it to be long like my Granddad liked it. I didn’t have a boyfriend- hadn’t for a long time. I think I was just happy on my own- well, maybe I’m lying, but at the moment it was the only way I could be. I had to get myself sorted before I could be with anyone else. But sometimes guys just saw a pretty face and wouldn’t try and delve deeper. That put me off trusting a lot of them.
I returned to the table and enjoyed spending time with my friends. I didn’t want to dwell on everything that had happened in the past- because it was exactly that- the past. I was in charge of creating my future.
I came back home rather pissed that night… ok early morning.
Ben was sitting there, his face sniffing the new catnip toy I had gotten him. I cackled as soon as I got in, kicking off my shoes and crawling my way to the sofa.
“Aren’t we a pair?” I said reaching for him and pulling him to my chest. His purring tickled my cheek and I giggled. “I don’t know why you came back, or how,” I said, “but I’m glad and love you lots and lot and jelly tots.”
Ben licked my face.
“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard,” he said. “But I love you too, my silly human”
I sat numbly shoving cornflakes into my mouth the next morning, looking through photos of last night on my phone, moaning at the ones I was dancing around a pole with Emily.
It was snowing today, so we were stuck in the house- not that we minded. I had the heating on full blast after just topping up my gas card and there was a lovely selection of Disney films for us to watch that afternoon. I had the Lion King out, thinking it may appeal to him, seeing how he hated Beauty and the Beast so much.
Mum had texted me saying my sister Kayleigh had gone into labour. I was anxious and constantly checking up via text to my brother in law. I tried to distract myself by going through my photographs; I then remembered the recording in Sabrina’s office.
“Hey Ben,” I shouted to the kitchen, knowing he currently had his face stuck into a bowl of Whiskers Finest, “do you want to listen to this conversation with Sabrina?” He didn’t answer. “It’ll have the sounds of her shrieking when you peed on her!”
Within a second, he came in, licking his chops.
“I may be curious to hear this,” he said, jumping onto the table next to my cornflakes.
I clicked onto the recording as he started to lap up the rest of my cereal’s milk.
Sure enough, our conversation played out. I cringed at some parts and giggled at others.
“We’ll have to wait for a bit when I leave the office, because I was in the library for a while,” I said.
“What was all that about?”
“Oh just some teaching assistant who wants a press release for a competition.”
I bristled at that. My badge said Sessional Lecturer!
“Right. Have you sorted out the accounts?”
“All done.”
“Good. This divorce is going to cost me. I’m not letting him have the farmhouse in Stratford.”
“Why would he want that?”
“Apparently his new bitch loves horses. I’d rather pull down my inheritance brick by brick, tree by tree than have her house her stupid ponies in there.”
An awkward silence.
“Have you booked those flights?”
“Yes, confirmed, first class.”
“Good. What about the money transfer?”
“It’ll be in your account next Monday. It’s under safety procedures and various trainee sessions.”
A tittering of too high pitched laughter made Ben flinch. “Fabulous. What about the exchange? Has your fiancé sorted out that as well? I’m investing a lot of money in him, Sabrina.
“I understand that, Principal, but Rino is subtle and had been in
the business for years. He has a lot of contacts overseas.”
“Good. I will say, Sabrina, I didn’t expect you to be marrying a drug dealer like him.”
“I didn’t expect you to be a money swindler either, Principal.”
A pause went past and then they cackled, sharing in some sort of hilarious joke.
“How much money have we projected to spend on the new building?”
“It was going to be half a million, but the surveyor says he can draw up the quote for twice that.”
“Wonderful. Forty percent towards your new house in Marbella, and sixty towards mine in Malibu.”
“The draft won’t be ready till the summer however,” Sabrina’s voice drawled.
“What a shame. Anyway, I have a meeting with the Council about more funding, will you have my driver come pick me up for the airport next week?”
“Already done, Principal.”
“And when are the new filing cabinets coming?”
“Same day as interviews.”
“Perfect.”
The sound of a door opening and shutting followed, along with a phone call with the Payroll Department, and then silence.
A knock on the door. “Hello, Sabrina, can we-”
“Oh my God!”
A chorus of shrieks, meows hisses came, mixed with swearing, something smashing and a door slamming.
I couldn’t listen to anymore.
“Oh my God...” I breathed.
“I know- can you believe what she called me?!”
“Sabrina and the Principal are running a scam!”
Chapter Five
It was difficult thinking about the next few moments. What was I supposed to do? Should I call the police? Should I confront them? The next day, I decided to do the right thing.
I went to the police station and told them everything.
“That is a very serious allegation to make, miss,” one of the constables said. I shifted uncomfortably under his dark brown gaze. “Hey- is that your cat outside?”
I was asked to come into another room by a larger and older man. He had a wide face, open, welcoming, but tired also. His hair was grey but he had a thick head of it. I wondered how long he had been in the business, but dare not even ask. I didn’t want to get into one of those conversations about the horrors he had seen.
I played the recording to him in a small clinical room. I didn’t like the man who escorted me. He was tall, and yes, actually quite handsome, but there was something in his steel chipped gaze reeking of suspicion. I didn’t trust people who were suspicious of me. I could tell he wanted to sit in on our conversation, but was relieved when the door shut in front of him.
The older policeman, named Jake O’Hara, listened gravely to it, all of it, even to the very last meow.
To my surprise it had even finished before Ben had started talking to me. I hadn’t even thought of that.
“This is very serious,” he said. “A serious allegation.”
“Well, I wouldn’t come here unless I thought it was so,” I said, putting my phone back in my pocket.
“There’s not much we can do without evidence,” he said then, dashing my hopes.
“I thought that was evidence?” a scowl covered my face.
“It’s not hard evidence,” he laughed at me. “That could be a recording of anything- a television program. There’s nothing specific in it. You could have even made it up.”
“But I didn’t!” I exclaimed, affronted.
He laughed at me again- I didn’t like that. “Look, I can go down there with an enquiry, but other than that, there’s not much I can do.”
I stared at him, shocked, appalled and embarrassed. “So I’ve come here for no reason?”
“No, of course not,” he chided me as if I was stupid. “It’s always good to come to the police if you fear something illegal is going on.”
“But it is going on!”
He laughed at me again, and I decided there and then that I didn’t like this man. “Like I say, I can go down there and make enquiries. But I wouldn’t go shouting this about. You could lose your job over this.”
Something in me then, told me that this wasn’t what a policeman should be saying to a young woman. Maybe I came across as vulnerable, but I wasn’t. I played on it anyways.
“You really think so?” I said in my best fragile voice. “I don’t want that to happen. I love my job.”
“Best to stay quiet about it then, lass, ok?”
“Ok,” I said, looking down at my phone. “Maybe I should just delete the recording? Forget it ever happened?”
His fat hands covered mine, peppered with broken veins and dry skin. “Best to do that, love,” he soothed, his pink tongue fat and treacherous in his too wet mouth. “Delete it and forget it happened.”
I pressed delete then, sending the recording into oblivion.
“Good lass. You know it makes sense.”
Furious that he would use one of my favourite quotes by one of my most loved actors, I put my best sad smile face on and nodded.
“Maybe you’re right.”
I left the room with the inspector giving me his card, the paper small in his chubby fingers. He walked off then, dealing with something he probably deemed more important.
The man who escorted me, wearing his dark grey suit and thin black tie stared at me as I signed out. He walked over to me, dark stubble marking an arrogant chin.
“Can I have a word?” he asked.
I raised my eyebrow at him and then looked out the door. Ben was jumping in and out of the snow. I’m not sure if he had seen it this deep before, but he was making an absolute fool of himself, much to the children’s delight.
“About?” I had already decided I didn’t like policemen from this department and I definitely wasn’t going to like him, if that inspector was someone he was working for.
He looked annoyed then, as if I was being awkward. “Here’s my card,” he said, getting one out from inside his jacket. I glanced at it.
Detective Arthur Calloway
0773980202
I raised my eyebrows at the name.
“Thanks,” I said, not meaning it.
“Calloway, there’s a call for you on Line Three-,” said the receptionist suddenly, the drunk still singing in the background.
“Can he hold for a second?” Arthur demanded, his dark green eyes narrowing in annoyance.
“It’s Detective Avery from Stratford,” pressed the receptionist sheepishly.
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Wait here for a second?”
I watched him walk away to take the call and didn’t waste any time. I walked out of the doors and into the snow, calling Ben as I went.
I know the detective may have been smug, expecting to see my name on the register as I signed in and out.
But all he would see would be a big X.
My priority when I got home was to get Ben warm. He let me carry him the rest of the way home, even though he had enjoyed the snow.
“What are you going to do now?” he asked me.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’m uploading the recording straight back onto my phone, that’s for sure!”
That police officer must have thought I was really stupid. As if I would delete something like that. I had saved that file to my Google docs, a USB and a cd. But what else could you do if the police wouldn’t actually help you?
Emily called me later on that day to say she had gotten an email saying that she had a second interview and would I like to meet her afterwards. I said yes, thinking I could do with the distraction.
How far do you go to do what’s right? I felt completely alone in this- besides from Ben, of course. But he thought a bit of catnip could set anything right. I did try having a sniff of it when he offered, but it didn’t do anything for me.
One good thing that happened that night- my sister had a baby. My mother called me at two o’clock in the morning letting me know the good news. I wouldn’t be able t
o see her until visiting hours the next day however and for a moment, I forgot the worries of college.
The baby was 10lbs3 and delivered by C-section. I was so excited, I couldn’t wait. I even woke up Ben to tell him, but I don’t think he was that fussed.
The next morning I was called by work to let me know that my student wouldn’t be in. I didn’t mind too much. I decided that Sabrina could wait whilst I saw my sister in hospital.
I turned up with my mother in the thick of snow to see this huge baby, which they had named Rowan. I burst into tears when I saw him. It was as if everything bad that had happened over the year could be officially forgiven and forgotten about. This was the new beginning. When I held him for the first time I was terrified. He was so heavy and after a while, I was keen to pass the responsibility over to my mother.
Rowan was truly beautiful and my sister had done so well. She was exhausted and so was Ryan, her husband.
I went home, happy and bubbling with news to tell Ben. I then realised that I hadn’t even told Emily that I wouldn’t be able to meet her after her interview. I checked my phone and saw that there were no messages or missed calls.
I texted her apologising and explaining what had happened, and said that I hoped her interview had gone well.
Later on that night when I logged into my Facebook account, something disturbing had been posted by Emily’s sister.
11:32pm: No one can get in contact with Emily. Can someone please let us know where she is?
I logged in again in the middle of the night when I went to the toilet.
It was from Emily’s housemate this time.
04:03am We’re really worried- if anyone is with Emily, can they let us know she’s ok?xxx
I fell back to sleep, nightmares plaguing me of Sabrina’s laughing face.
The next day as I logged into my emails, Ben shovelled his face into another bowl of whiskers. I had read more disturbing pleas of information from my friends on Facebook about Emily, and that she hadn’t been seen all day since she had set off for her 2nd interview.