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Post by PamA on Jun 20, 2005 17:09:52 GMT 1
Part I
“There,” said Julia stepping back to admire her handiwork,” What do you think of that?” Sarah leant her head first to the left and then to the right as if to get a better perspective of the tree. “Yeh, it looks good,” she finally said, then with an almost childish glee, added, “Let’s switch the lights on,” and began to move towards the electricity point down on the wall near the tree. Julia narrowed her eyes. “Oh no you don’t!” she cried, “I decorated it. I get to put the lights on!” They laughingly jostled each other to be first to the switch until Sarah stepped back and with an exaggerated sigh said, “Be my guest.” Julia paused and with great dignity declared, “I name this tree a Christmas tree. May all who look at it be overcome with the great taste with which it has been decorated.” Sarah clapped her hands and Julia bowed slightly in playful acknowledgment. “Well put them on then.” Sarah said impatiently and Julia flipped the switch. Nothing happened. “I knew it,” she said in exasperation, “I told Mac it was time we got some new lights. But, oh no, there’s nothing wrong with the ones we’ve got,” she deepened her voice in imitation of her husband, “ We’ve only had them for 50 years, they’ll last another 50 if you look after them properly.” Sarah and Julia laughed. “Come on,” Julia continued, “We must have a loose bulb somewhere. Let’s get checking.” Carefully, starting from the bottom, they examined each bulb until Sarah triumphantly exclaimed, “I’ve got it!” and as she tightened the bulb up the tree lights began to shine brightly. “I love Christmas,” Sarah said, a blissful expression on her face. Then, glancing round the reception area, added, “Do you think we’ve enough decorations up?” Julia looked around, summing up the effect of the tinsel and bows that Sarah had generously festooned in every conceivable place. “Yes, “she confirmed, “I think there’s more than enough. There is, you know, a fine line between enough and too much. I think you’re dangerously close to it.” With a parting laugh Julia made her way to her office. Sarah smiled to herself. She didn’t care what anyone thought, the patients would love it, be cheered by it, and that was all that mattered. Now she had more important things to see to, like sorting out the Secret Santa. It had been agreed by all the staff that one token present, to be handed out at the staff Christmas party, would be more than enough. She carefully cut out all the names she’d printed earlier, folded them in half and put them in a small cardboard box she’d brought from home. Now all she had to do was get all the staff to pull a piece of paper out of the box when they came through reception, the idea being that they would buy a present, worth no more than £10, for the person whose name they had drawn. The phone rang, dragging her back into the reality of a busy Doctor’s surgery. With a smile of total contentment, Sarah picked up the receiver, “The Mill Surgery, how can I help you?”
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In the gathering December dusk he stood in the car park. No one going to or from their cars would have noticed him. A figure, standing close to one of the trees that grew on the perimeter, so close he was practically a part of it. Grey, he thought to himself, that’s what I am. That’s what she called me just before she left. You’re so boring she said, so predictable. Why, if you were a colour, she said, you’d be grey. Yes that’s right, you’d be grey!! Then she’d gone. Packed up and left with the man from the dry cleaners. Now, he thought, it’s good to be grey. No one notices you when you’re grey. His eyes focussed on to the front of the building. Through the glass he could see that blond who worked on the reception desk. “Sarah Finch, that’s her name”, he muttered to himself. “S is for Sarah, third in my alphabet. F is for Faith and G is for George. F, G, S – that’s the order. First Faith. Oh yes, Faith I have a little surprise for you, and you’re not going to like it!”
To be continued..........................
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Post by PamA on Jun 26, 2005 21:40:52 GMT 1
Part 2
Fridays at the surgery were always busy. As George often pointed out, Mondays were busy with all those that were sick over the weekend, and Fridays were busy with those that thought they might be sick over the weekend. Whatever the truth was, the waiting area always seemed to be teeming on a Friday with those waiting to see one of the Doctors or one of the practice nurses. Then, of course, there were women in various stages of pregnancy waiting for the Antenatal clinic. Yes, Friday was a very busy day. Faith beat the morning rush by mere minutes, tearing into the surgery in a state of panic. She’d overslept and hated starting the day feeling stressed and anxious about getting to work on time. Sarah handed Faith her morning post and box of patient records. “Before you go,” she said, picking up the Secret Santa box, “you need to pull a name out. No looking!” Faith looked less than pleased at having to waste precious time on what, at this moment, seemed like trivia. However, knowing how persistent Sarah could be, she decided it would be easier to do as Sarah bade and hastily put her hand in the box drawing out a piece of paper. She groaned when she saw the name she’d chosen. “Ooh, you don’t sound very pleased,” Sarah said with a grin, “So, who is it? Who have you got?” Faith sighed. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a secret would it?” Sarah laughed and said, “Well it was worth the try!” Faith smiled and, shaking her head, said, “You’re impossible.” She headed off already feeling in better spirits than when she’d arrived. “Sarah certainly does have the knack of lightening your mood,” she thought to herself as she went into her room. She’d barely started to organise herself for the morning ahead when there was a tap on the door. “Who is it?” she called and an answering voice said, “Me, Paula.” Faith called back, “Come in.” Paula Jones was the community midwife and a great friend of Faith’s. She was a single mother with two young children, left on her own when her husband had been killed in a freak accident at his works. Paula’s mother moved in with her to look after the children, making it possible for Paula to continue with her career. “First things first,” Paula said, “Laura Mason had her baby in the early hours of the morning. So she won’t be here for antenatal today.” “She was early then.” Faith observed. “Boy or girl?” “Boy,” Paula replied, “Big one too. Weighed nearly 10 pounds!” “That must have made her eyes water!” Faith said jokingly. “Secondly,” Paula continued, “Have you had a letter from St. Phil’s about the new system for prenatal referral?” “You can have a look in the post,” Faith said, pointing to her desk where the unopened mail lay, “I’ve not had a chance to look through it yet.” “Got up late”, she added by way of explanation. Paula quickly flipped through the letters, looking for one with the St. Phil’s logo on. “Ah,” she finally said, “This must be it!” The explosion, when it came, was not particularly loud, nevertheless it was loud enough to be heard throughout the building. Mac was first out of his surgery. “What the devil!” he exclaimed looking around for the source of the noise. He was soon joined by Helen, Greg, Julia and James Marshall, the locum doctor who was filling in for George whilst she was on maternity leave. “I think it came from Faith’s room.” Greg said and began to move towards it only to be held back by Mac. “It might not be safe.” Mac said. “And Faith might be in need of help,” Greg said angrily, pulling away from Mac’s grasp. “You’re right.” Mac agreed and followed the rapidly disappearing back of Greg. In reception, Sarah, after the initial shock, had taken charge and ushered all the waiting patients out into the car park. She had then alerted the emergency services, not really knowing what to tell them other than something had gone off with a bang. Julia and Helen appeared before her looking dazed and confused. “What was it?” Sarah asked, and Julia, in a voice that was little more than a whisper, replied, “We don’t know. It came from Faith’s room.” “Faith! Is she alright?” Sarah asked. Both Helen and Julia shrugged their shoulders. “Mac, Greg and James have gone to find out.” Helen replied and, almost in the same breath, exclaimed, “There they are!” Mac came into reception, his arm supporting a trembling Faith. Behind them came James and Greg, carrying between them a figure so blackened and bloodied that, at first, they couldn’t recognise it as Paula. In no time at all it seemed like the car park was full of fire engines, ambulances, police cars and bomb disposal crews. A crowd had gathered, seemingly from nowhere, all anxious to find out what was happening. The crowd suited him. He could mingle with these people, just one of the many curious souls that seemed to appear wherever a drama was unfolding. Nobody would notice him or remember him. It helped to be grey at times like this. He watched, scarcely able to stop himself from cheering when the stretcher appeared. A paramedic held a bag of fluid aloft over the prone figure being wheeled to the waiting ambulance. The crowd stretched their necks to get a better look and he was forced to peer between them. At first he couldn’t believe what he saw, then a groan escaped his lips as he realised that the figure on the stretcher was not Faith. It most definitely was not her, for Faith was following whoever it was into the back of the ambulance, and as far as he could make out she had escaped with no injury at all. He felt rage building up inside him. She’d ruined everything but she wouldn’t get away with it. He would come back. But first he had to deal with the next letter in his alphabet – G for George.
to be continued.......
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Post by PamA on Jun 28, 2005 17:39:49 GMT 1
Part 3
They all congregated at Mac and Julia’s that evening. Greg collected Faith from the hospital, and on the way they stopped off at her flat so she could pack a few necessities to take with her. It had been agreed she would stay with the Maguire’s for at least the weekend and possibly even a few days after that. Julia had prepared a light meal but none of them were particularly hungry and merely toyed with the food she placed in front of them. Strangely enough, the very thing that was on all their minds was the subject they avoided, and it was only after Julia and Helen cleared away and brought in a tray of coffee that anyone mentioned it. “I expect you’re all anxious for news of Paula,” Greg said, “I spoke to the doctor treating her when I picked up Faith. Amazingly she’s not as badly injured as we feared.” A sigh of relief seemed to ripple around the room. “In fact,” Greg continued, “the blood came from a nasty cut on her head that she probably got by being thrown back on to a metal cabinet. She’s got a few bruises and scratches as well. The black stuff all over her appeared to be soot.” “Soot!” Helen exclaimed. “Yes, soot.” Greg confirmed. “All being well, she should be home tomorrow.” “I had a chat with one of the bomb disposal chappies,” Mac said, pausing to sip his coffee. “He reckoned it wasn’t designed to cause serious injury. Just to put the wind up Paula. Give her a bit of a fright. Apart from a small explosive device the package contained ordinary, household soot.” “Not Paula,” Faith pointed out, “That package was addressed to me.” “Yes. Sorry.” Mac said, apologetically. “The police are going to want to talk to us all at some point, though what they think we can tell them heaven knows.” “Please don’t let it be Roth,” Julia sighed. “I’ll probably be her prime suspect.” She added glancing across at Greg who smiled weakly back at her. “We need to be very careful with the post,” Mac continued, “Anything the least bit suspicious, leave it alone. Sarah, you’re first to look through the mail in the morning, you need to be extra vigilant.” “Right Mac, I will be” Sarah confirmed. “What do I do though? I mean if something doesn’t seem quite right.” “Best leave it alone. Contact the police. They know the situation and will take the necessary measures.” Mac glanced round the room, “That goes for all of you.” “Have the police spoken to you yet Faith,” Julia asked, “I would have thought they’d have been at the hospital.” “Only briefly,” Faith answered, “They’ve asked me to think about anyone who might hold a grudge against me.” “Anyone come to mind?” Helen enquired, “Although I can’t imagine you’d have any enemies.” “Thanks Helen,” Faith replied. “I really can’t think of anyone that would hate me that much.” “I know it’s probably not the best thing to bring up at the moment,” Sarah said hesitantly, “but what about the Christmas party? Do you think we should go ahead with it?” “We most certainly will go ahead with it,” Julia said emphatically. “There’s no way that some mad man is going to stop us enjoying ourselves!” “Julia’s quite right,” Mac agreed. “Whoever’s responsible for this would probably like to think we’re too afraid to carry on as normal. But that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
In the shadows he waited, watching the entrance of Mac and Julia’s home. One by one he saw them leave. First the blond Doctor - Helen that was her name. He quite liked her. He would leave her alone. Then the two male Doctors – Greg and the locum whose name he didn’t know. They were of no interest to him either. Then the receptionist Sarah left, running after Greg and the other one. He waited to see if Faith would be leaving but he’d noticed the holdall she’d been carrying when she arrived. “She must be staying over,” he thought, “Too scared to be on her own. Good.” The idea of her fear excited him. He would get back to her eventually, but for now he could enjoy the knowledge that she was afraid of him, that they were probably all afraid of him. He imagined how it would be at the surgery; every piece of mail subject to scrutiny, every piece of mail engendering fear. But for now he needed to concentrate on another one. The one who wasn’t here tonight. The one who was most likely at home with her new baby. George!
to be continued.................
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Post by PamA on Jul 15, 2005 9:41:30 GMT 1
Part 4
There was a determination among the staff not to let the events of the letter bomb affect them in any way. Things carried on as normal, although there was a vigilance about the mail that had not previously been there. Sarah, in particular, scrutinised everything that came through reception to the point that Greg, jokingly, offered her the use of a magnifying glass in order to be able to examine the post in even greater detail. Faith’s room was cordoned off, while a police scene of crime officer and a member of the bomb squad painstakingly searched for the smallest piece of evidence that might lead them to the perpetrator. So far, the chances of finding out who the person behind the bomb was seemed to be remote, and, try as she might, Faith could think of no-one who disliked her enough to do something like this to her. A few days after the incident the staff were preparing for their annual Christmas party that was to be held at the Letherbar. The manager had agreed to provide a special buffet meal and was reserving a small area for use by the surgery staff only. Sarah had convinced them all that fancy dress would be fun and, so that no one would be embarrassed, had persuaded the Letherbar to make it a general fancy dress evening. Julia went early to check that everything was ready. It was important for them all that the evening should be a success – something to take their minds off the recent events. Faith had been reluctant to go but thanks to Julia’s powers of persuasion had finally relented, and was even looking forward to enjoying a fun evening with her friends and colleagues. Once Julia was satisfied that nothing had been left to chance, she went back home to change into her outfit and to make sure that a reluctant Mac changed into his. James, the locum, had volunteered to be on call for the evening, a factor that had put him very much into the good books of the other Doctors. Sarah was the first to arrive dressed as one of Santa’s elves. She came bearing a large cardboard box, covered in crepe paper and decorated extravagantly with bows in every colour of the rainbow. The box was to hold the Secret Santa presents and was placed in a prominent position in the reserved area so that the staff could keep an eye on it all the time. Sarah hadn’t been there long before Julia and Mac walked in. Julia was dressed as Maid Marian and Mac as an extremely half-hearted Robin Hood. “One quip about the tights,” he warned Sarah, “just one quip and I’m out of here.” “Ignore him Sarah,” Julia said with a smile, “He’s just an old misery guts. Aren’t you my dear?” “Not so much of the old if you don’t mind.” Mac replied. “Why couldn’t we have come as Laurel and Hardy or Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton even? Any combination that didn’t include me wearing tights!” “And which would I have been?” Julia asked dryly, “Laurel or Hardy? On second thoughts don’t answer! Oh look,” she continued, “There’s Helen and Greg. Over here.” She beckoned them over. Helen, in a dark wig, made an exotic Cleopatra and Greg, dressed as Julius Caesar, was her handsome consort. “Any remarks about asps and bosoms and I’m out of here.” Helen remarked, glowering at them all. “Looks like we’re in for a fun evening,” Julia whispered to Sarah, but Sarah, in her usual good natured way, replied, “It’ll be alright. Once Helen’s had a few drinks she’ll loosen up.” “Let’s hope so,” Julia said with a sigh. They were shortly joined by Faith who’d come as a rather scantily clad Mrs. Christmas. “Now we just need George and Ronnie and we’re all here.” Julia observed. “They said they might be late depending on how well Tabitha settles. First time they’ve left her with anyone.” “Mum’ll be fine with her,” Sarah said, “and they’ll have their mobiles if there’s any problems.” “Look who’s just walked in,” Helen said with a smirk, “Looks like Robin Hood and Maid Marian.” George laughed out loud when she saw Mac and Julia in identical outfits. Ronnie though, in an echo of Mac’s earlier observation said, “One comment about the tights and I’m out of here.” “Well, if things get boring,” George remarked, “we can always have a knobbly knees competition!” “How’s Tabitha?” Helen asked. “Wonderful,” George replied, a dreamy expression coming over her face as she thought of her baby daughter. “Actually, you lot, we can’t stay too long because of her feeds. So what say we get on with the presents!” “You’re like a big child sometimes,” Ronnie said, smiling at his wife,” We don’t have to rush off. She’s expressed about a gallon of milk this afternoon so Tabitha’s certainly not going to go hungry.” George dug him in the ribs, “Oh you,” shesaid, “It wasn’t a gallon. More like two!” It was decided, though, that they would eat before opening presents. The Letherbar had laid on a wonderful spread and they all tucked in eagerly. By the time they’d finished eating the mood of the group had become more light-hearted, and the two Robin Hoods were no longer concerned about their tights or how stupid they thought they looked. Cleopatra, after more than a few glasses of wine, was now cracking her own jokes about bosoms and asps and sat, wig askew, surveying her colleagues, telling them how wonderful they all were. “Right,” Julia said, once they’d finished eating, “time for presents and I think Ms. Christmas here should be the one to hand them out.” “Oh, I’d love to,” Faith, by now, was thoroughly relaxed and really glad that Julia had persuaded her to come. With a great deal of laughter she reached into the box of presents. “Right,” she said, “let’s see what Santa’s brought for all the good little boys and girls.” “Won’t find many of those here!” Mac quipped. George, in her usual manner, gave Mac a light pat on the hand, and said, “Speak for yourself! Come on Faith. Don’t keep us waiting any longer.” It didn’t take long to hand the parcels out, and with a “Ready, steady, go!” from Julia, they began to rip the paper of their particular gift. Julia paused for a moment to say, “Isn’t this exciting!” As she spoke, she chanced to look across at George and, with a horrible realisation, saw that the present she had bought as George’s Secret Santa was not the one that George was about to open. “George,” she cried, “Don’t open it!” But her warning came too late.
*************************** In the corner he waited; sitting quietly, talking to no one, sipping a glass of orange juice. He felt like he’d been waiting forever. Their conversation, their drinking, their eating seemed to have dragged on and on, until he’d felt that he was going to scream at them, shout out loud, “Open the presents!” But they finally had, and here he sat in the corner watching, absorbing their fear and no one noticed him – the grey man who blended in to the background wherever he went. to be continued..........
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Post by PamA on Jul 21, 2005 9:53:45 GMT 1
Part 5
A silence fell upon the party and all eyes turned towards George. The explosion that Julia had anticipated hadn’t happened; instead an angry looking George glared at the assembled staff members and said, in a dangerously low voice, “So who exactly was my Secret Santa, because I don’t think much of their choice of gift!” “I was,” Julia replied, “but whatever you have there is not what I bought.” Ronnie, a concerned expression on his face, leant over and took the present away from George. “I think we should talk to the police about this”, he said and raised the box that held the gift so they could all see what was inside. It was a baby doll, dressed in pink, with the word “Tabitha” written on a piece of paper and pinned to the bodice of the doll’s dress. Round the doll’s neck was a piece of string, fashioned into a noose, and red paint ran in a rivulet from the doll’s mouth giving the impression of a trickle of blood. “That is sick.” A now sober Helen stated what they were all thinking. “That’s a really horrible thing to do.” “I don’t understand how any one could have swapped the presents over.” Greg said, “We haven’t been away from that box all evening.” “Think about it,” Mac replied. “What about when we were helping ourselves to food. Did anyone keep an eye on it then?” They looked at each other and murmurs of “no” came from each one in turn. “But Mac, even if the opportunity was there, who ever did it would have had to have rummaged around to find the right present to swap with,” Julia observed. “That would have taken time.” “Actually,” Sarah said, looking rather sheepish, “George’s present was on top. I’d been checking through to make sure they were all there. I remember George’s because you and Mac used the same wrapping paper and, for a moment, I thought she’d got two presents!” “So,” Mac pointed out, “you made it easy for whoever did this. All he had to do was pick up one and replace it with another.” “It’s not fair to blame Sarah,” Greg came to her defence, putting his arm round her shoulders and giving her a quick squeeze. Sarah smiled gratefully back at him. “Sorry Sarah,” Mac said apologetically, “ I wasn’t blaming you, just simply pointing out how easy it was for someone to do the swap.” “I think we should all calm down a bit,” Julia said, looking round at the assembled company,” It’s not helping anyone.” “Julia’s right,” Greg agreed, “We’ve had the letter bomb and now this and the last thing we need is to start arguing amongst ourselves.” “Well,” Faith said. “At least now I know I’m not his only target. Sorry George. I didn’t mean........” “I know you didn’t,” George replied. She looked again at the doll that lay in the box resting on Ronnie’s lap. A wave of anxiety for her tiny daughter washed over her. “Sarah, will you ring your mum please? I know I’m being silly and I’m sure Tabby’s fine but I just need to know.” Ronnie took hold of George’s hand. “She’ll be fine, love. Believe me. This sort never really does anything,” he said reassuringly, “they get their kicks out of frightening people, making us watch our backs all the time. I’ve come across enough of them in court to know.” “Tabitha is sleeping like a baby, Mum says,” Sarah said with a smile, putting her mobile back in her bag. “Nothing to worry about.” She added. “All the same, if you don’t all mind” George replied, “I think I’d like to get home.” “Of course we don’t mind!” Julia assured her. “I think we all understand. You run along.” “What about this?” Ronnie held up the box with the doll in. “We can’t just ignore it.” “Leave it with us.” Mac said, taking the box away from Ronnie as he spoke, “We’ll see to it.” George picked up the capacious handbag that she took with her wherever she went. “I’m sorry to be the party pooper,” she looked at them apologetically, “but I just need to see my babe. See she’s alright.” “I don’t think that you’re the party pooper. I think the party pooper is the sicko who’s done this!” Sarah said emphatically. They all nodded their heads in agreement. Then, one by one they stood to say their goodbyes to George and Ronnie. After the two had gone everyone sat back down, but the high spirits of earlier in the evening had been totally quashed by the incident with the doll, and they sat in an uneasy silence unsure whether to follow George’s lead and go home, or make some effort to regain the party mood. It was Greg who finally broke the silence. “I’ll phone the station. Ronnie’s right. We need to let them know about this.” He punched some numbers into his mobile and they all sat listening as he spoke to someone on the other end of the phone. “Sergeant Grayson? This is Greg Robinson from the Mill practice. You asked us to let you know if anything else happened. Well there’s been another incident.”
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He sat, watching their every move. He’d seen George and Ronnie rush out of the Letherbar and knew why. So, they were worried for their child! Afraid he would hurt it! They’d acted just as he wanted them to. He’d seen the fear in her face as she’d hurried by and a tremor of excitement had rippled through his body. None of them had noticed him earlier in the evening as he’d swiftly exchanged one gift for another. The blond one had made it so easy for him! He’d worried about how he might have to search for the right one, but she’d put George’s present right on top! Just now he’d seen Greg make a phone call and he guessed that the police might be here any minute. Time, he decided, to slip away and he smiled to himself as he knew that no one would remember him sitting there. No one had noticed him come and no one would notice him go. Anyway, he had new plans to make; plans for the blond one; plans for Sarah.
to be continued................
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Post by PamA on Jul 27, 2005 17:36:40 GMT 1
Part 6
“So how was George?” Helen asked. “Mac tells me you dropped over to see her at the weekend.” “Good. All things considered.” Julia replied. “Mind you, I think the whole business unsettled her more than she’s letting on.” She took a sip of her coffee before continuing. “Did I tell you the police found her real present dumped round the back of the Letherbar? I did think of taking it round to her but, well, it seemed a bit tactless if you know what I mean and, anyway, they’ve kept it in the hopes of finding some fingerprints. ” “It’s horrible to think that he was there watching us,” Sarah said. She helped herself to another biscuit. “I still can’t believe I made it so easy for him.” “You can’t keep blaming yourself,” Helen said reassuringly. “None of us noticed him do the exchange so, in a way, we’re all to blame.” “We keep saying `him’,” Greg pointed out, “but it could just as easily be a woman.” “True,” Julia said in agreement, “though I can’t imagine a woman making a bomb!” “Not to say they can’t.” Greg insisted. “You know, I had a really silly thought this morning.” Helen and Julia looked at each other and smiled. “Well do tell us,” Julia said, “don’t keep us in suspense.” “Well, first it was Faith and then George. The thought crossed my mind that he or she might be going through us alphabetically.” He saw the looks that passed between the three women and added, “I did say it was silly.” “According to you that makes me next,” Helen said dryly, “Thank you very much!” “Um, excuse me.” Greg replied, but I think you’ll find that `gr’ comes between `ge’ and `he’.” “Well,” Sarah said with a smile, “ I’m laughing if that’s the case. I’m last in the alphabet I think you’ll find!” The phone rang in reception and Sarah stood up, saying, “Well back to work. No rest for the wicked.” It seemed that in no time a visibly shaken Sarah returned to the staff room. “What’s wrong?” Julia asked, her voice full of concern. “It was St. Phil’s on the phone. It’s me Dad, he’s had a heart attack. I’ve got to get there. Me Mum’s with him but she needs me there.” “Are you sure it was the hospital?” Julia asked. She saw the blank look on Sarah’s face. “I’m just thinking that with the other things that have happened, it might be a good idea to check.” The others nodded in agreement. “I think she’s right to make sure,” Helen told an anxious Sarah after Julia left the room. “We don’t know what lengths this person might go to.” She put her arms round Sarah’s shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Even if it’s true,” she continued, “heart attacks aren’t always bad. Look at Mac. He made a complete recovery and he’s not a rarity.” Julia returned and gave Sarah a nod. “He’s there,” she said, “he’s still in A & E at the moment so you need to report there. I’ll give you a lift. You’re in no fit state to drive.” Julia delivered Sarah to the main door of St.Phil’s. She offered to stay but Sarah insisted that Julia should return to work and, as she pointed out, she wouldn’t be alone. Her Mum was there. “Well, alright,” Julia said reluctantly, “but let me know if you need anything.” Sarah assured her she would and gave a little wave as Julia drove away. As instructed, she reported to the A & E reception desk. “My Dad, Barry Finch, he was brought in earlier,” she told the receptionist. “I was told to come here.” The receptionist looked at her computer screen. “Let me see,” she said, “Ah, yes. Would you take a seat over there,” she pointed to a row of chairs near a corridor that led to the examination cubicles. “Someone will come and speak to you in a minute.” Sarah had barely sat down when a male nurse came over to her. “Miss Finch?” he asked and, when she nodded, said, “Would you like to come with me.” He guided her down the corridor to a small room at the end and held the door open, indicating for her to go inside. “Sit down.” he said. He closed the door and sat down in a chair opposite. “I’m very sorry,” he said, “There’s no easy way to say this.” “No!” Sarah exclaimed, her hands flying up to her mouth. “I’m sorry,” the nurse continued, “he had another attack and we couldn’t revive him. Your father died just before you got here.” Sarah felt as if her world had come crashing down around her ears. She’d always been a Daddy’s girl. Oh, she loved her Mum but her Dad, well, she worshipped him, loved him to pieces. The thought of life without him was too painful to even consider. “My Mum?” she began, but the nurse guessed what she was about to say and said, “She was with him. Why don’t I go and get her?” Sarah nodded. “Will you be alright for a few minutes?” The nurse asked and Sarah nodded again. She couldn’t speak, her throat felt tight with restrained tears. She sat waiting for what seemed an eternity, tears flowing freely, until finally she could wait no more. What if for some reason she’d been forgotten or they couldn’t find her Mum or the nurse had been distracted? She decided to leave the sanctuary of the relative’s room and seek her Mum out herself. She took a deep breath, wiped her eyes and stepped into the corridor straight into the arms of a female Doctor. “Can you help me?” She asked. “I’m looking for me Mum. Me Dad’s just died. He’s here somewhere.” The Doctor stared at her. “Nobody’s died here today, to my knowledge.” She said. “What’s your father’s name?” “Barry. Barry Finch.” Sarah answered. “I have just discharged your father.” The Doctor told her. “Discharged?” Sarah said in bewilderment. “But he had a heart attack!” “He had indigestion,” the Doctor laughed. “He’s not the first person to mistake it for a heart attack.” “But that nurse,” Sarah looked puzzled, “he said me Dad had died.” “Which nurse?” The Doctor asked. “A male nurse. Dark haired.” Sarah by now no longer knew what to believe. “I don’t think there’s any male nurses on this shift.” The Doctor was by now growing increasingly concerned. “I think, maybe, that we need to look into this; but, I assure you, your Dad is alive and very, very well. ****************************
He walked out of the hospital doors and went to the nearest litterbin. Into it he dropped a carrier bag containing a nurses uniform, a dark wig and a pair of brown contact lenses. He couldn’t believe his luck. The plan he’d formed in his head had been a complex one and he hadn’t been sure that he could carry it out successfully. Then he’d seen her Dad arrive at St. Phil’s and everything fell into place. The shock on her face when he’d told her that her Dad was dead! He’d carry that image with him always. Her face, he thought with a laugh, was a picture! Somebody up there, he decided, must really like him. Everything was so easy, so very easy. What next? Oh yes. It was back to Faith again and this time he’d make sure that it would be her to get a surprise. He’d make very sure.
to be continued.........................
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Post by PamA on Aug 1, 2005 11:51:28 GMT 1
Part 7
“I knew I should have stayed with her,” Julia said. “I can’t believe the audacity of the guy! I mean, anyone might have spotted him as a fake. And how on earth did he know that Sarah’s Dad was there?” “You can’t go blaming yourself Julia. You said that she didn’t want you there and, don’t forget, she was expecting to meet her mother.” Mac slowed to a halt as they approached the entrance to the hospital. “I can’t see her anywhere. Can you?” he asked, but just as he was about to suggest that Julia go in and look for her, Sarah appeared and made her way to the car. “It’s really kind of you to come and pick me up,” she said as she opened the rear door of the car. “Mum and Dad were going to come but I think they need a bit of time to get their heads round what happened.” “No trouble,” Julia said, half turning round to face Sarah and giving her a reassuring smile. “What did the police say?” “Well, they want me to go to the station and do a photo fit. Other than that they asked for a description and wanted to know if I’d ever seen him before.” “And had you?” Mac asked. “I don’t think so,” Sarah replied then added slowly and thoughtfully, “but his voice did seem a bit familiar. Like I’d heard it somewhere before but I can’t for the life of me place where.” “It might come to you. If you sleep on it you might find you remember in the morning. That often happens to me when I can’t remember something.” Julia gave a long sigh. “It would be brilliant if you did,” Julia continued, “If you remembered that is. Till he’s caught I’m afraid we’re all going to be looking over our shoulders.” “So much for Greg’s alphabet theory,” Sarah said. “Maybe he’s dyslexic,” Mac said with a laugh, only to be given a stern look by his wife. “That’s not funny Mac,” she said, “it’s no laughing matter. We don’t know who will be his next victim. It could even be you.” “Yes, you’re right Julia. Sorry,” he said apologetically. “Now, where to Sarah? The surgery? The Police Station? Home?” “I’d really like to go home, if it’s no bother. I mean, I know I should really get back to work, but I’d like to see me Dad,” Sarah’s voice held a note of concern that Julia was quick to pick up on. “We didn’t expect you to come back to work today,” she said reassuringly. “It’s quite understandable that you want to see your Father. In your position that’s what I’d want.” “I’ll be in tomorrow,” Sarah declared emphatically, “I’m not letting some psycho control my life.” “See how you feel,” Julia said, but inwardly was hoping that Sarah would, indeed, be back at her place behind the reception desk as soon as possible. No Sarah meant extra work for Julia and she was already snowed under with paper work that needed attention. “Here we are,” Mac said, pulling up outside Sarah’s house. “Like Julia said, see how you feel tomorrow. No need to rush back.” Julia shot him a warning look, “Sarah’s already said she’ll be in Mac. Personally I admire her determination not to let this character get the better of her!” “I was just saying...” Mac began but was quickly interrupted by Julia saying, “Well don’t.” “I’ll shut up then, shall I?” Mac said adopting a somewhat sarcastic tone of voice. “Probably best if you do my darling.” Julia said in agreement. “No arguing, you two,” Sarah admonished them, a small smile momentarily lighting up her face. “I’ll be in tomorrow. Promise.” She got out of the car and with a brief “goodbye” and a little wave, quickly made her way to her house. “Right,” Mac said, “best get back to the surgery now.” He made to pull away from the kerb but, before he could, Julia laid her hand upon his arm. “You know Mac,” she said, “I’m getting really worried about these happenings. We don’t know who will be next or what he’s capable of.” Mac pursed his lips and sighed. “I know what you mean Julia,” he said in agreement, “but what can we do? When we don’t know who or how he’ll strike next it makes it very difficult to take any precautions. Other than shut ourselves away, see no patients, not leave our homes, what can we do? And, if we did all that, what sort of Doctors would we be?” “Actually Mac,” Julia continued, “I'm worried about home visits. Helen and Faith would be particularly vulnerable if he followed them when they do these. Even worse that could be a means of enticing them somewhere.” “I see what you mean.” Mac looked thoughtful, “But what can we do about it. Home visits are part of the job description and we can’t go out in two’s, we don’t have the resources.” “I know. But we’re going to have to think of something. Come on, let’s get back to the surgery.”
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He was in a charity shop in Letherbridge High Street - a great place for picking up a variety of clothes to use as disguises. The business at the hospital had boosted his confidence, and he now had everything he needed to succeed in the plan he had developed for Faith. He knew that the women volunteers in the charity shop wouldn’t remember him. He’d made no attempt at small talk. Done nothing that would draw attention to himself. Simply chosen a few items of clothing, paid for them and left. Sometimes, like now, he really appreciated being a grey man, the person no one noticed.
to be continued............................
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Post by PamA on Aug 7, 2005 20:09:54 GMT 1
Part 8
“First I’d better introduce myself. My name is Detective Constable Lizzie Knight. I’m working with Sergeant Grayson on this case.” She paused for a moment and looked around the room at the assembled staff. “Secondly I’d like to thank you all for coming in early so that we could discuss a few safety issues. Before we do that, however,” she said, as she opened up her briefcase and took out some papers, “I’d like you to take a good look at the e-fits Sarah and myself prepared last night.” She passed the papers to Julia who handed them around. For a few minutes they sat in silence studying the face of the mystery man who was making their lives so stressful. “We know he was wearing a wig and coloured contacts, as they were found in a rubbish bin outside the hospital.” Lizzie Knight continued, “Now I want you all to take a few things on board. Just because he wore a dark wig, it doesn’t necessarily mean that he hasn’t naturally got dark hair. You can try to imagine him with different hair colour; hair length etc. if that helps. Look closely at the face shape, the spacing of the eyes, length of the nose – those things can’t be altered so you may recognise him just by something as simple as that. Sarah puts his age at about 45 to 50. He’s very slim and about 5ft 9ins tall. No particular accent but Sarah did think she recognised his voice.” Sarah nodded in agreement. “You know,” Julia said, her face screwed up in concentration, “there is something vaguely familiar about his face. But I can’t think what.” “He seemed to know his way around the hospital. We suspect he either worked there, was a patient there or visited regularly for whatever reason. Could you know him from there?” Lizzie asked. “I’m sorry,” Julia sighed, “I just can’t think. I just know there’s something very familiar about him.” “What about the rest of you?” Lizzie asked, “Anyone else think they might know him?” They shook their heads and mutters of “No” and “Sorry” came from various parts of the room. “Right,” Lizzie said, “Let’s move on. Julia spoke to me last night about her concerns for the safety of the staff. As she pointed out you will all be extremely vulnerable when making house calls. The way this chappy is working you are all going to have to be particularly vigilant when doing your rounds.” “What do you suggest?” Helen asked, “I mean we have to go out to patients. We can’t be vetting everyone who asks for a home visit.” The others nodded in agreement. “Julia and I have formulated a strategy which should go some way to protecting you. I’m afraid it will mean extra work for Sarah and Julia but I can’t see any other way of making sure that you’re not walking into a trap.” Lizzie turned to face Julia, “Perhaps you’d like to explain.” “Certainly,” Julia stood up, smiling at Lizzie as she did. “It wasn’t easy to think of ways to protect us all from this maniac and, to be honest, we haven’t come up with a fool proof method. Really and truly it’s just a means of keeping tabs on where everyone is.” “Let’s hear it Julia,” Greg said, “I’m sure whatever you’ve thought of will be better than doing nothing!” “Hear, hear!” Helen said, a bored expression on her face. “Get on with it Julia. We do have a surgery to run and patients to see.” Julia glared at Helen, “We all have work to do Helen and I’m sorry if you’re finding this a waste of your time, but if it helps to prevent any further incidence then I think it’s worthwhile.” Helen looked suitably chastened and murmured “Sorry” under her breath. “What we propose,” Julia continued, “is that all house calls will be checked by either Sarah or myself doing a call-back. I know that won’t stop our friend from posing as someone else, but at least we will be able to confirm the phone number and address are genuine. Then, we suggest that you ring the surgery when you arrive at the patient’s home, and phone in again when you leave. Sarah and I will monitor the calls, making a record of the times you arrive and leave next to the patient’s details. If there is more than, shall we say, 25 minutes between the calls we will ring you to make sure all is o.k, no reply and we’ll alert the police.” “That sounds good, in principle,” Faith said, “but today I’ve got two visits to make where you can’t get a mobile signal.” “Where would that be?” Lizzie asked, opening up a notebook to write the details down. “Batt’s farm and Meadowview, the old people’s home.” Faith told her. “I can use a landline at the home but there’s no phone at the farm.” “In that case,” Lizzie said, “I think it would be a good idea for you to have a police escort to the farm. As I recall it’s very remote. The perfect place for our friend to set a trap.” Faith nodded in agreement. “I’d appreciate someone coming with me when I go there” she said, “Sometimes I have to leave the car at the bottom of the lane as the gate’s padlocked, and it’s a bit of a long walk and very isolated. I don’t like it at the best of times.” “Well, I think that’s all for now.” Lizzie said, gathering her things together, “We’ll see how things go and, if need be, review how this idea works in practice. In the meantime,” she added, pausing as she walked toward the door, “keep studying the e-fit and keep thinking hard about who could be behind this. Oh, and Faith, call me when you’re off to the farm and I’ll send someone to meet you.” “Come on,” said Julia, once Lizzie had left, “we have work to do and sitting here most certainly won’t get it done!”
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He arrived in plenty of time. He’d estimated Faith would get there late morning as she had done on the occasions he’d followed her here, and now all he had to do was sit and wait. His disguise helped him to blend in. He’d chosen it with great care. No one would remember him, of that he was sure, and even if they did the chances of anyone recognising him were nil. One thing he was very sure of was that any description given would be totally misleading. He smiled to himself. Soon she would be here. Soon she would meet him – face to face.
to be continued.........................
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Post by PamA on Aug 15, 2005 22:54:22 GMT 1
Part 9
Faith was a little alarmed when she saw the uniformed policewoman. She’d expected a man, preferably a large man, with muscles that would intimidate an all-in wrestler. Instead she found herself with a policewoman who was, to say the least, a little on the petite side. Her fear that the farm gates would be padlocked was justified, and she and her escort were forced to squeeze through the narrow gap at the side of the gates. There was only one moment of panic for the two of them. A violent rustling in the hedgerow proved to be nothing more than a pheasant that suddenly came hurtling out in front of them. If Faith had been concerned about the size of the policewoman that had been sent to guard her, this incident lifted her confidence in the ability of the young woman to protect her against unexpected attacks. No sooner had they heard the noise in the hedgerow than the policewoman was in front of Faith, A.S.P.* at the ready. The call to the farm went without further occurrence and Faith and her police escort, whom she now knew to be Emma Wilson, laughed as they returned to their cars. “That pheasant nearly gave me a heart attack!” Faith said with a smile. Emma smiled back. “It didn’t do too much for me either! If you like I can go with you to your next appointment.” “Well, I wouldn’t mind,” Faith answered with some relief. “The parking at Meadowview is a bit out of the way of the main building. I would feel safer with you there.” “Right, then let’s get going!” The old people’s home was less than 3 miles from the farm, so the little convoy of Faith and Emma arrived there in no time. The car park lay to the right of the building, set back and shielded by a row of conifers that made it impossible for anyone to observe the car park from the main building. Faith parked as close to the Home as she could. “I’ll wait here for you,” Emma reassured her. “Will you be long?” “I don’t think so,” Faith replied hesitantly, “It’s always difficult to say with the elderly. I could end up seeing more patients than I’m booked to see. I know it sounds a bit silly, but would you mind walking to the door with me and waiting there?” “Only to happy to oblige.” Emma replied. The two followed the path round from the car park to the entrance of the Home. They both looked around, watching out for anything the slightest bit suspicious. A man, tidying up the gardens, looked up as they went by but immediately went back to what he was doing. A window cleaner was busy wiping the glass on the big bay windows nearest the entrance. He paused as they approached and muttered “morning” as they drew level with him. Emma positioned herself at the entrance. “Don’t worry,” she reassured Faith, “I’ll wait till you come out.” The first thing Faith did on arrival was to phone the practice. Sarah couldn’t hide her relief that Faith still had her police escort. “That’s brilliant,” she said, “at least we won’t have to worry about you!” There were, in fact, only three elderly people requiring Faith’s services but she had barely started attending to the dressings on her first patient’s legs, when Emma appeared at the door. “I’m really sorry Faith,” she said apologetically, “but I’ve been called back to the station. I’m going to have to go immediately.” Faith’s heart sank, but she knew that Emma had been more than kind to come here with her. “That’s alright,” she said reassuringly, “I’ll be fine.” Faith’s third patient was Charlie Harris. Charlie was a great favourite of hers, the type of patient that made her job seem worthwhile. Even though he was in a great deal of pain, he was always cheerful and always courteous. She was surprised when she entered his room to see he was not alone. “Ah Nurse Walker,” Charlie said as he caught sight of her, “come and meet our new vicar.” The man with him turned and smiled at Faith and extending his hand towards her said, “David Nichols pleased to meet you.” Faith shook his hand. She wondered whether she should offer to leave and come back another time but, before she could speak, Charlie added, “The vicar was just leaving, weren’t you?” David Nichols looked a little taken back but agreed that he was about to go. He shook Charlie by the hand then turned to Faith saying, “I expect we will meet again. I like to pop in here once or twice a week.” Faith smiled and nodded in agreement. “I dare say we will,” she said. She didn’t take long seeing to Charlie, and as soon as she’d finished she went to the Matron’s office to give her a short report on the three residents she’d seen. She phoned in to the Practice to let them know she was about to leave, then made her way apprehensively to her car. She looked around as she walked. The window cleaner had gone and the grounds man could no longer be seen. Her mind worked rapidly. The mystery man who was making their lives a misery could be either one of them. He could, even now, be hiding, waiting to jump out on her, be in the car park standing by her car or even have done something to her car. Faith’s heart was, by now, beating so rapidly she felt it would burst from her chest, and when she was suddenly aware of the sound of footsteps behind her she felt almost paralysed with fear. “Are you alright Faith?” She turned to see the Reverend Nichols, a look of concern on his face. “Not really,” she replied. “Can I be of help?” he asked. After a moment of hesitation Faith said, “Would you walk me to my car please?” She decided not to elaborate on why she was so nervous but simply added “I feel a bit jumpy with all those trees hiding goodness knows what.” She laughed nervously. He fell into step beside her. It wasn’t until they reached her car that a thought suddenly sprang into her mind. “How did you know my name was Faith?” she asked him, her face screwed up with puzzlement. “Charlie introduced us.” he replied but she immediately retaliated with, “He called me Nurse Walker. He never said Faith.” she looked at him, as if seeing him for the first time. “I know you!” she exclaimed, “I know you. You’re no vicar. You’re......” Before she could say anything more, he sprang forward and put his hand over her mouth. Faith’s eyes widened with fear as she realised she had walked straight into a trap. She twisted away from him, but as she did she lost her balance and fell hitting her head on the side of the car. Then everything went black. For a moment he stood like a statue not knowing what to do. This was not going to plan and, worse, she’d recognised him. She’d ruined everything. There was only one thing he could do. He reached into the pocket of her coat and found what he was looking for - her car keys. He opened the rear passenger door and bundled her on to the back seat. Then he drove away.
to be continued.....................................
*A.S.P. is the police term for the extendable baton that is now used instead of a truncheon.
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Post by PamA on Aug 20, 2005 11:59:12 GMT 1
Part 10
“I don’t care what you say, Sarah, It’s over an hour since Faith called in and I think we should notify the police.” Julia’s face was stern as she spoke these words. “Lizzie and I specifically said that if we heard nothing from those on house calls for more than 25 minutes after calling in, we should phone her.” “But she’s got a policewoman with her Julia. I’m sure she’s o.k.” Sarah replied stressing the last few words. “Then where is she?” Julia asked. “She knows full well that we have the 25 minute rule in place so she should have phoned to let us know if she went on somewhere else. I’ve tried her mobile and she’s not answering. No, I’m sorry Sarah I’m calling Lizzie.” Even as she spoke she was picking up the phone and dialling Letherbridge Police Station. Sarah carried on with her work but kept one ear tuned to Julia’s conversation. She was aware, after a while, that a note of concern became apparent in Julia’s voice and this soon turned to something akin to panic. She stopped what she was doing and looked at Julia. The expression on Julia’s face told her that something was seriously wrong. Julia replaced the receiver and turned to face her. “Apparently the police woman with Faith was called back to the station soon after they arrived at the Home.” She paused, chewed on her bottom lip, took a deep breath, before continuing, “The police are going there now. It’s always possible, I suppose, that she could still be there.” “Maybe her car’s broken down,” Sarah suggested, “She did say she couldn’t get a mobile signal there.” Julia looked at her. “She could have used the landline in the home, Sarah, if that was the case.” “I know,” Sarah replied, “I’m sorry Julia, sorry that I was so insistent she was alright.” “I should have listened to my instinct. I knew there was something wrong. If only she’d let us know that she’d lost her escort,” Julia sighed, “I suppose I’d better let the others know what’s happened.” It was late in the afternoon before they heard anything from the police. Lizzie Knight appeared at the reception desk and suggested that they should all gather in the staff room as soon as surgery was finished. There were few patients left to see and they were soon seated in the staff room anxiously waiting to hear what Lizzie had to say. “It’s not good news I’m afraid,” she told them immediately, “We’ve visited Meadowview and there is no sign of Faith or her car there. One of the patients thought he saw the car leaving and is sure it was being driven by a man.” “Can we rely on that?” Mac asked, “I mean they are elderly and do get confused.” “The patient in question is perfectly lucid,” Lizzie replied, “We’re sure we can trust what he has to say. What’s more he was pretty sure he recognised the driver.” “Well, that’s brilliant. Some good news at last.” Julia beamed with pleasure as she spoke and the others also smiled and nodded at this piece of news. “I’m afraid not.” The expression on Lizzie’s face was serious. “He identified the man as a Reverend David Nichols, the new vicar at St. Thomas’s. However, they’ve never heard of him there and, just to be on the safe side, we checked with all the other churches in the area. Not one of them has heard of him. I think we can safely assume that the vicar is our mystery man and Faith walked straight into his trap.”
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Faith opened her eyes. At first all she was aware of was that her head throbbed and she that felt slightly sick and dizzy. It took a few moments before her memory sprang into action and the scene in the car park replayed itself in her mind. She looked around and realised that she’d been moved. She was in a room, a room with little furniture and the only light coming from a small window set high in the wall opposite to where she lay. To her left, but out of her reach, was a solid wooden door. Her hands and feet were bound with some type of cord and she frantically tried to free herself but to no avail. It was only when she tried to stand that she realised she was tethered to a thick pipe that ran down from the ceiling to the floor. Panic set in and she began to shout “Help!” as loudly as she could, aiming her cries towards the window in the vain hope that someone would hear her and come to her rescue. The door opened. “So you’re awake,” he said, “You can shout as much as you like. No one will hear you.” “Why are you doing this?” Faith asked, her voice hoarse from shouting. He looked at her and shook his head. “Come on Faith,” he said, “you know why I’m doing this. Don’t play the innocent with me.” He moved towards her and went to touch her head but she pulled away from him, turning her head to the side as far away from his hand as she could. “Don’t be silly,” he admonished her, “I just want to check the damage you did when you hit your head.” Faith stubbornly kept her head turned away. “Alright,” he said, “I won’t touch you. As I recall my touch made your skin crawl. Wasn’t that how you, so nicely, put it?” He stepped back as if to get a better view of her. “You don’t look good,” he commented, “Are you feeling sick or light-headed?” When she made no effort to reply, he said, sarcastically, “I take it that’s a `yes’ then.” He walked toward the door, pausing as he opened it to say, “You’d best keep yourself awake. It can be dangerous to sleep if you have concussion.” “Where are you going?” Faith couldn’t hide the note of panic in her voice. She knew he was right. She’d nursed long enough to recognise that she could be in a potentially serious situation and, much as she hated being in his presence, at least if he were there she could hope that he would do something to help her if the worse should happen. “First I have to move your car as far away from here as possible. I imagine the police may already be looking for it, don’t you?” He made to leave the room but turned back as if he’d suddenly remembered something. “Oh yes,” he said, “and I have to go and fetch you one of your little friends to keep you company. That may take me some time but I think you’ll agree the wait will be worth it. I’m sure you’d enjoy seeing George again, wouldn’t you? You’d have such a lot to talk about.”
to be continued.............................
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