left me weary, thanks very much.’
The lights flickered and died.
I lit two of the dining table candles from the dying fire, giving him one and keeping the other for myself. ‘Did Lucy leave you plenty of blankets? What kind of landlady am I? I should have checked!’
‘She left enough for an army. I suspect the towels she found were yours, by the way – they rather stood out against the utility tiling. And she’d found a kettle and tea bags from somewhere, even some little pots of milk.’
‘She’s got her head screwed on, that kid. Right: do you want a morning call or was your alarm clock amongst the things you rescued ?’
Chapter Nine
I didn’t exactly spring out of bed – my joints didn’t go in for springing these days – but I got up more quickly than usual to check the power, which was mercifully back on, and the weather. It was no longer raining, even if it looked as if it might start again any moment. Though there were plenty of huge puddles, the roads no longer ran with floodwater. Good. It wouldn’t suit me to be marooned. I was showered and dressed and just thinking about breakfast when Nick tapped on my door, shaved and wearing what I took to be his work clothes. He looked more on the point of leaving than demanding a full English.
‘I was just wondering about the things in your boiler room,’ he said.
‘I doubt if they’ll be dry enough to wear yet. In any case, you’re surely not going into the office – you’ll be needing to make insurance claims and generally sorting out your life.’
‘Where better than the office? And I can buy some new clothes in Taunton.’
‘Where you can also get some breakfast, no doubt. Don’t be a fool, Nick – with a stomach like yours, you ought to eat before you do anything. I’m not much of a breakfast woman myself, but there’s what the supermarket insists is freshly-squeezed orange juice, fresh fruit and organic bread with that marg that’s supposed to reduce your cholesterol. Tea or coffee? Oh, and I eat in the kitchen, if that’s all right by you.’
He nodded, looking more daunted than grateful, and followed me, sitting down like an obedient child.
‘What you also ought to be doing,’ I said, slicing bread and slotting it into the toaster, ‘is finding out whether Bulcombe really did alter the course of the stream – it might be an insurance scam, and I’d hate to see him getting away with it.’
‘You mean I might not be the target?’ He sounded doubtful.
I turned sharply. ‘What other threats did you have apart from the dead cats? Come on, Nick: what are you hiding?’
‘A couple of headless rats. And I’m not sure the damage to the caravan was accidental.’ He mumbled as if was all his fault.
‘Damage? You didn’t say anything about damage.’ I plonked the toast rack on the table as if checkmating him.
‘It could always have been a log, I suppose – there was a lot of debris floating around. The current was pretty strong.’
I reached across to tap his skull. ‘Hello? It there anyone at home in there? Something stove in your caravan and you think it’s an accident? On top of all those other things? For God’s sake, Nick you used to be a cop. For how many years? Thirty? When we crossed swords, you were a bright young man, destined to go far. You wouldn’t make it to parking warden on today’s showing!’
He disappeared, like that cat in
Alice
. Not physically, of course. Just like he had in the superstore. Something switched off inside. I stared, almost as freaked out as he obviously was. I knew you shouldn’t wake sleepwalkers, should stop people in epileptic fits swallowing their tongues. But what about men holding a piece of toast in one hand, a cup in the other, staring at something horrible I couldn’t see?
At last he put down the cup, and swallowed. ‘I suppose you’re right.’
Though I couldn’t see what bit of my diatribe he was agreeing with, I nodded. ‘So are you going to get in touch
The lights flickered and died.
I lit two of the dining table candles from the dying fire, giving him one and keeping the other for myself. ‘Did Lucy leave you plenty of blankets? What kind of landlady am I? I should have checked!’
‘She left enough for an army. I suspect the towels she found were yours, by the way – they rather stood out against the utility tiling. And she’d found a kettle and tea bags from somewhere, even some little pots of milk.’
‘She’s got her head screwed on, that kid. Right: do you want a morning call or was your alarm clock amongst the things you rescued ?’
Chapter Nine
I didn’t exactly spring out of bed – my joints didn’t go in for springing these days – but I got up more quickly than usual to check the power, which was mercifully back on, and the weather. It was no longer raining, even if it looked as if it might start again any moment. Though there were plenty of huge puddles, the roads no longer ran with floodwater. Good. It wouldn’t suit me to be marooned. I was showered and dressed and just thinking about breakfast when Nick tapped on my door, shaved and wearing what I took to be his work clothes. He looked more on the point of leaving than demanding a full English.
‘I was just wondering about the things in your boiler room,’ he said.
‘I doubt if they’ll be dry enough to wear yet. In any case, you’re surely not going into the office – you’ll be needing to make insurance claims and generally sorting out your life.’
‘Where better than the office? And I can buy some new clothes in Taunton.’
‘Where you can also get some breakfast, no doubt. Don’t be a fool, Nick – with a stomach like yours, you ought to eat before you do anything. I’m not much of a breakfast woman myself, but there’s what the supermarket insists is freshly-squeezed orange juice, fresh fruit and organic bread with that marg that’s supposed to reduce your cholesterol. Tea or coffee? Oh, and I eat in the kitchen, if that’s all right by you.’
He nodded, looking more daunted than grateful, and followed me, sitting down like an obedient child.
‘What you also ought to be doing,’ I said, slicing bread and slotting it into the toaster, ‘is finding out whether Bulcombe really did alter the course of the stream – it might be an insurance scam, and I’d hate to see him getting away with it.’
‘You mean I might not be the target?’ He sounded doubtful.
I turned sharply. ‘What other threats did you have apart from the dead cats? Come on, Nick: what are you hiding?’
‘A couple of headless rats. And I’m not sure the damage to the caravan was accidental.’ He mumbled as if was all his fault.
‘Damage? You didn’t say anything about damage.’ I plonked the toast rack on the table as if checkmating him.
‘It could always have been a log, I suppose – there was a lot of debris floating around. The current was pretty strong.’
I reached across to tap his skull. ‘Hello? It there anyone at home in there? Something stove in your caravan and you think it’s an accident? On top of all those other things? For God’s sake, Nick you used to be a cop. For how many years? Thirty? When we crossed swords, you were a bright young man, destined to go far. You wouldn’t make it to parking warden on today’s showing!’
He disappeared, like that cat in
Alice
. Not physically, of course. Just like he had in the superstore. Something switched off inside. I stared, almost as freaked out as he obviously was. I knew you shouldn’t wake sleepwalkers, should stop people in epileptic fits swallowing their tongues. But what about men holding a piece of toast in one hand, a cup in the other, staring at something horrible I couldn’t see?
At last he put down the cup, and swallowed. ‘I suppose you’re right.’
Though I couldn’t see what bit of my diatribe he was agreeing with, I nodded. ‘So are you going to get in touch
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