Choked Off by Andrea Frazer

Author:Andrea Frazer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 2010-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

12

Saturday, 12th September – morning

Falconer’s sleep had been disturbed in the past by nightmares of his time in the army, usually about the uncouth behaviour and the foul language of the squaddies. Tonight his disturbed slumber had an entirely novel cause. Every time he floated off into oblivion, he saw Serena’s face and, as his dream-self gazed at it, he became aware that she was in some sort of danger. Danger from what, he never remembered, but on several occasions that night, he had awoken with a gasp, his whole body convulsing with fear, his pyjamas soaked with sweat.

Except for one occasion, when he was about five years old and his mother had been gravely ill, he had never felt such strong emotion for another human being, and he found it confusing and belittling. He could not believe he could feel so deeply and so much for someone after just one meeting, and even opened wide his mouth and gazed into the bathroom mirror at one point to check his throat, and work out whether he really was coming down with something.

The next morning found him tired and emotional (in the most sober way possible) and, after his shower, he opened his wardrobe door and realised he had not the remotest idea what to wear. Usually an outfit had already assembled itself while he slept, but his night had been so disturbed, that there was nothing waiting for him, sartorially, in the forefront of his mind.

He knew that, come what may, he would make some excuse to call at Blackbird Cottage sometime that day, and rashly decided to wear his favourite garments, in the hope that he would impress Serena with his good taste, and shore up his own self-confidence. A short while later he left for Stoney Cross, breakfast no part of this morning’s schedule; his stomach was too full of butterflies for him to contemplate adding food to the mix.

It was fortunate for him that there was little traffic, for his inattentive driving could have been the cause of numerous accidents. As it was, he had a near-miss with a black cat as he drove down Stoney Cross’s High Street towards his intended place of rendezvous. He winced as he swerved to avoid it, and cursed it for shaking him up like that. He was nervous enough without a black cat showing off just how ‘lucky’ it really was.

The Boxster and the Skoda arrived virtually simultaneously, and the two detectives got out of their respective vehicles in a near-choreographed move, both stopping dead at the sight of the other, and staring in mirrored disbelief.

Carmichael stood there, immaculate in a dark grey suit, white shirt and lemon tie, his thatch of hair gelled into a respectable cap, the victim of a very recent shearing.

Falconer just stood there.

He was attired in black linen trousers (which had already creased on his drive over), a turquoise silk shirt (condition as yet unknown) which was frontally obscured by a canary yellow Shantung silk waistcoat, and decorated at the neck with a blood-red tie.

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