Sleepwalker by M A Hunter

Author:M A Hunter [Hunter, M A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books
Published: 2024-07-12T00:00:00+00:00

23

FOUR DAYS BEFORE THE MURDER

Jake closes his eyes to try and silence the heavy drumming between his ears, focusing instead on his breathing, and trying to work out where he is and why he feels so rough. The pain behind his eyes is like nothing he’s ever experienced. It’s as if someone is driving an electric drill into the back of his skull. He shoots a hand up to his crown to check that isn’t the case.

His last memory is of heading to the army base to meet his old Commanding Officer to try and ask to return to the service. With Lucy taking Sienna to a friend’s birthday party, he was at a loose end, and when he’d left the house, he’d known what to say. But then he’d arrived on the base, and it had brought back so many bad memories of his last time abroad that he’d bottled it. Deep down, he knew he was only going to ask to pacify Lucy, even though the thought of being posted abroad fills him with dread.

Lucy was fuming when she showed up late last night, saying she’d had to spend her evening trying to calm Geraldine down after what he’d said to her when he’d collected Sienna.

‘They were doing you a favour, Jake, and that’s how you showed your gratitude? You know Ray and Geraldine tried all sorts to conceive, and it was not appropriate for you to throw that in her face last night.’

He tried explaining that he was only reacting to what Geraldine had said about him being a bad father, but Lucy wasn’t listening. And the worst part is he knows she was right, and he shouldn’t have taken out his frustration at the job rejection on Geraldine.

‘You’ve no idea how much they’ve done for Sienna and me. I can’t believe you would behave that way.’

Lucy went to her office with a large glass of wine, and he went to bed alone. She must have come up at gone midnight and was out running when he woke this morning.

‘I’m taking Sienna to her friend’s house, and I need you to pick her up at 5 p.m. promptly,’ she told him matter-of-factly before heading out.

And with nothing better to do with his Sunday, he phoned his former Commanding Officer and asked for an informal chat. When he arrived, she’d immediately produced a bottle of her favourite brandy and he’d accepted a glass if only to summon the courage to ask her about his options. But she’d wanted to talk about his time in Basra, and one glass of brandy had quickly turned to two as he’d tried to avoid remembering what happened in the desert.

Now, lying on his back, he opens his eyes, having to squint because of the strong light hanging from the ceiling. He can see a thick sheet of glass about a foot to his left. It’s a table of some kind. Scattered over the glass he can see squashed aluminium cans, and suddenly it’s so obvious why his head feels as though it will explode.

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