The Shadow of the Soul: The Dog-Faced Gods Book Two by Pinborough Sarah

Author:Pinborough, Sarah [Pinborough, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Horror & ghost stories
Publisher: Gollancz
Published: 2011-04-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

‘Turn that TV down, Roger.’ Cathleen Watson placed the tray on the table between her and Cass as her husband begrudgingly did as he was told. The devastation in New York faded to a gentle hum as the images screamed more quietly from the screen.

‘I don’t see why anyone would be asking questions about it now, that’s all,’ Roger Watson muttered. ‘No offence, but I’d have thought there would be more pressing matters for the police these days. What exactly are you here for?’

‘Don’t be so rude!’ Cathleen apologised for her husband as she poured.

Cass hadn’t known anyone still used a tea service any more outside of period drama, but this one even had a sugar bowl that matched. His hand felt clumsy around the thin china handle. ‘It’s all right; he has a point,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’m really investigating Flush5 – there have been some complaints about the way they operate. Nothing I can go into detail about; I’m just trying to get a sense of their background. I hope this won’t bring back too many painful memories for you.’

‘It’s nice to talk about them. We don’t do that much now.’ Mrs Watson sipped her own tea. ‘You know how time is. It doesn’t heal, but it does put things in boxes for you. It’s how we all go on, I suppose.’

Cass’s smile was genuine. He liked this woman. He understood boxes.

‘Why did Elizabeth have a C-section? Can you remember?’

‘She hadn’t thought she’d needed one. As far as she was concerned, everything was fine, but then she got a call that morning saying the doctor had been double-checking some scans and they thought her placenta might be obstructing the birth canal. She went back for a secondary scan that evening when Owen got home, and they decided to get the baby out straight away.’ A ghost of pain flashed across her eyes. ‘Not that it helped the baby, poor little mite. She barely saw him. I don’t remember if she even held him, not when he was alive.’ She stirred her tea, even though she hadn’t added sugar to it. ‘They didn’t let her see him for hours; he was cold by then. She didn’t want to see him again after that.’

Cass looked down at his own cup. Of course the baby was cold. They’d probably had to source one. Where had they brought it up from, the hospital mortuary? A nearby morgue? A time-share dead baby. He fought the image of the two women, both now dead: one crying and one smiling, both over the same child, while another was stolen away.

‘And then of course the accident happened such a short while later.’ Mrs Watson’s smile was wistful. ‘They’d gone away to recover. Life is full of cruel ironies, don’t you think?’

Cass wondered how the woman would feel if she realised just how ironic her words really were. Part of him wanted to tell them that the baby they thought they’d lost had grown to be well loved, even by a father who had doubts about whether they were the same flesh and blood.

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