Sleepwalk (20 page)

‘No……… No! Slim would never…………’

‘Well now Jonquil. Unless you have any information to the contrary, I think we have our man. Thank you for your time. Interview terminated at
8.02pm
. Thank you Miss Forbes, you can go.’

‘No! Wait!......... please?’

DI Carter sat down and looked into her green eyes.

‘It……… It wasn’t Slim. She…… she came that night for the Colonel. It……. It must have been his turn.’

‘She? It was a woman? Jonquil I’m not quite sure I understand.’

Jonquil leaned toward him over the table and her voice became a whisper. ‘The angel of death…….. in her black chariot.’

‘Right. Oh great so we’re looking for bloody Bodicea.’ Carter stood up now and pushed his chair hard against the table which made her jump. He was rapidly losing his patience with this girl who was obviously on drugs or something. Her statement would never stand up in court. He turned back and looked at her frightened pale face.

‘Ok. Jonquil. This is DC Peters. Now I want you to describe your ‘Angel of Death’ to her as best you can ok? Maybe draw a little picture, eh?’ He left the room then, walked down the corridor to his office and thumped the wall hard; then he opened his desk drawer and took out a small hip flask of something a little stronger than the vending machine had to offer.

David was becoming spoilt having Felicity stay with him and was secretly not looking forward to her moving back to her cottage. It wasn’t a loneliness thing; he knew that. Of course they had been sleeping together these last few nights which made it even more difficult……
and they hadn’t had much sle
ep;
although she always woke bright and early and went to the spare room to ensure Oliver should not wake up and find them together. It wasn’t a selfishness thing either, even though he could see the washing line in the back garden full of his and Ollie’s bright clean clothes whipping back and forth in the sprightly breeze as he lifted his son from the car tonight and could smell the unmistakable aroma of steak and onions wafting toward him from the kitchen window. No; it was definitely a falling thing. David had fallen for Felicity.
He didn’t care anymore what Ellie thought, or what she said to him. He didn’t care what his mother thought either about his new ‘unfortunate’ girlfriend
which seemed to be her favourite term for her
. Well, perhaps that wasn’t strictly true. He did care about his mother. He cared about both his parents. To be fair to his mother, she had only seen her once and Felicity had been in shock at the time so hadn’t really known much about it. It was time that he introduced her properly. David helped her to dish up the dinner as Ollie tore up and down the hall on his little red trike and she told him that Ellie had phoned.

‘What did she want?’

‘I don’t know. She wouldn’t say. She said she’ll phone later. I’m sorry David; perhaps I shouldn’t have answered your phone.’

‘Of course you should babe. You’re staying here and our home is your home, I’ve told you that.’ He began to cut Ollie’s meat into tiny chunks, ‘I’ve had three
messages
from her on my
answering machine
today which I’ve ignored; and Ellie doesn’t like to be ignored. I have asked her not to bother me when I’m at work so, whatever it is she wants she can wait.’

‘I kind of got the impression she wasn’t happy that I was here in your house, answering your telephone.’

‘Well Flick, we have our own lives now. I don’t tell her who she can have in her house and I won’t have her tell me who I can have in mine. So, come on, let’s forget about her and sit down together and enjoy this wonderful meal you’ve cooked. Ollie? Come on mate. Come and see what Vic’s made for us!’

They talked briefly about the progress being made on the cottage and Felicity told him what Bob Croft had said about her being able to move back in quite soon and then she saw dismay in those deep blue eyes and quickly changed the subject. Nothing more was said about the cottage that evening and later when Ellie phoned, David went out into the hall to talk to her and Felicity sat down with Ollie and read to him. She hadn’t managed to finish
Mr Bump
before David came into the room, a look of despair in his eyes and his brow furrowed.

‘You Ok?’ asked Felicity.

‘Yes. They’re going away on holiday for two weeks next weekend. She wants to move the ……. er fortnightly arrangement from Sunday to the Saturday morning.’

‘And is that awkward for you?’

‘No. No not at all. It’s um…… It’s when they get back that the problems arise. Their flight gets in two weeks later on the S
unday
evening at six-thirty and a certain person wants to meet at seven/seven-thirty bearing gifts from abroad. I said No. I’m not having any unsettling visits before bedtime.’

Felicity turned back to the Mr Men series layed out across David’s brown and cream retro rug.

‘For what it’s worth, I think you’re right. I mean …….. arrangements could be left to the next day or something surely?’

‘N
o-the n
ext day
is school and work and
bearing in mind I don’t get home to collect a cer
tain person until gone five,
I’ve said it’ll have to wait until the following weekend, but I don’t think I’ve heard the last of it.’

‘Vic! Thomas Vic’ Oliver deposited the book she had bought him in her lap with a huge look of glee having just unearthed it from the pile of toys and books on the floor. Felicity thought David was being a little harsh on Ellie. Considering she won’t have seen her son for two weeks while she’s away and then making her wait a further week to see him; but she said nothing. It wasn’t her place to comment.

‘Ok then my little ray of sunshine, Thomas it is then; and then bed I think, don’t you Daddy?’

‘Bed………. Yes definitely. Bed’

As the Silver Audi pulled up on the drive at the
Wilson
’s residence Felicity felt the knot in her tummy tightening. David had pre-warned her about his mothers interrogative skills so when Mrs Wilson began firing questions at her she was ready for them but it didn’t make the knot go away.

‘It’s lovely to meet you dear. David’s told me all about you and what an unfortunate time you’ve been having, I’m so sorry. How is your little house coming along dear?’

‘Well there’s still a lot of work to do yet but, Yes…… every time I see it there’s some kind of improvement. We’re hoping to get some painting done this weekend.’

‘Good. Well David there is an awful lot of paint in the utility left over from our last bout of decorating. You’re quite welcome to it Felicity dear if it will be of any use to you.’

‘Oh Thanks Mum. I’ll go and check it out.’ He smiled at Felicity, ‘Back in five.’

No please don’t leave me with her
………

‘Now then Felicity would you like a cup of tea dear?’

‘Thank you. Tea would be nice. Can I help?’

‘No but you come along to the kitchen with me and tell me all about yourself.’

Oh
…….
w
onderful
.

‘David’s Father has had to pop out to his office but he should be along shortly. We’ve both been looking forward to meeting you.’

‘Vic! Vic! Come ‘ere Vic’.
Saved by the bell
. Ollie took her hand and led her through a wide hall to the biggest lounge Felicity had ever seen.

‘This my horse!’

‘Wow Ollie. Lucky you. Can you ride him?’ In the nearest corner of the lounge was the most beautifully maintained antique wooden rocking horse Felicity had ever seen. He was black with a thick white flaxen mane and tail and wore a real leather
dark cherry
saddle and bridle.

‘Vic help……’

She lifted him into the saddle and kept one hand close to his back as if to catch him if he fell. But Oliver was obviously an experienced rider. Once he was in the saddle there was no stopping him and he rocked the wooden creature back and forth furiously.

‘You get on well the two of you.’ David’s mother was behind her carrying a tray with tea in china cups and a plate of biscuits.

‘Yes; yes we do. I like children.’

‘I was talking about David.’

‘Oh! Sorry. Well, yes. We get on well too.’

‘Such an unfortunate business though; with your little house. Do you really have no idea who could have done it?’

‘Mrs Wilson; I honestly have no idea. I have never had any problems with anyone….. I mean, my life was so uncomplicated before……..’

‘Before you met David? Is David a complication to you then?’

‘No! No; not at all. You misunderstand what………’

‘I’ve found loads of paint Flick. Lots of nice neutral shades. You sure it’s ok Mum?’

‘Of course David. We should have thrown it out long ago. You’re more than welcome Felicity, really. Now come and sit down and have some tea.’

Felicity wanted to finish her sentence, wanted his mother to know how bewildered by all this she actually was, but instead she smiled and said thank you. She had never been the sort of person to try and impress people. People should take you at face value and if they didn’t like your face then what could you do? Did Mrs Wilson not like her face then? Felicity couldn’t be sure; but she wasn’t going to change her face for anyone. She was who she was. C’est la vie.

Abi had been doing some research. It was nothing to do with her college course. It was nothing to do with her job. It was to do with Ellie and her sleep disorder. She had been to the
library
and had spent several hours studying
. She hadn’t learnt very much about Ellie’s condition, other than what she already knew, but she had read some whacky stories. They were mostly from
America
. There was an incident where a young girl approaching puberty had left her home in the middle of the night wearing just her panties and walked to a nearby power station where she’d gained entry by climbing over an eight foot high spiked gate and then continued her adventure by climbing to the top of a forty-two foot ladder where she had promptly fallen asleep on a small platform. Another tale was of a boy in Canada who went rock climbing in the middle of the night in his pyjamas and was tracked down and found the following morning still fast asleep on a small precipice of rock measuring less than two feet deep; but the precipice was on a sheer rock face over seventy feet from the ground. The stories were bizarre. One in particular caught Abi’s attention. It was about a man who went to trial for murdering his mother and had escaped prosecution because at the time the murder was committed he was asleep and therefore could not be held responsible.

When she got home Abi poured herself a coffee and tried to think about all the times she had found Ellie missing at night. She went over and over little details in her mind; the blood stained clothes, the keys being moved, the night she had followed her through town and how she had easily brought that man to his knees without a second thought, finding the car with its engine running……. and she pictured Ellie as she had seen her in her trance-like state looking straight through her like she wasn’t even there. She visualised her jumping off the bandstand and imagined her just letting herself fall from the bedroom window in
Rose Lane
. Then she thought about the little things Ellie had told her about her dreams; about lights flashing by her, about waking up in the car by the river
and about there being a fire
………….. Abi sat down to re-read the article about David’s new girlfriend again but her attention was drawn to another headline….

Hit & Run Driver strikes again
.
Colonel Arthur Jack Harding of no fixed abode was driven over the edge on Saturday night, literally. His body was discovered early on Sunday morning by a local woman walking her dog on the river bank behind Sainsbury’s supermarket. Police believe the person responsible lost control of their vehicle on the bend and was going too fast to stop in time. Colonel Harding is the second such victim in the last five weeks after War Veteran Daniel (Gus) Glover was killed by a
speeding car in Western Drive w
hilst on his way home from a night out at his local club
………… Abi flicked through the next few pages and read the article about the fire in Knapp once more. Both incidents occurred on Saturday 15
th
June. Last weekend. The night the car was damaged. The night Ellie had slept on the sofa. The night Ellie had dreamed about waking up in the car by the river…………………

‘Sir?’

‘Don’t you knock DC Peters?’ Carter slammed his top drawer shut and prayed that he had screwed the lid of his hip flask on tight enough before this rude interruption.

‘Sorry Sir, but I think you should take a look at this.’

DC Peters laid down some pieces of A4 paper in front of him. There were a series of little sketches drawn in pencil
and they weren’t half bad
……..

‘Bodicea! Now we’re getting somewhere.
Bodicea
…….
she lives
. Is the girl still in room two?’