A Killing Air by Nigel Price

Author:Nigel Price [Price, Nigel]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2018-10-04T04:00:00+00:00

Thirty

The smoke found its way to the open window. The fire’s yellow light flickered off the walls of the small office, playing over the faces and soaked clothing of the two occupants. Harry put more files onto the fire, tending to his creation with the greatest care. If it went out he had no idea if he would be able to restart it. Slowly he felt the temperature rise. He hunched forward over the flames, Lisa doing the same. Steam started to rise from their wet jackets and trousers until they were like two giant kippers quietly smoking.

Eventually Harry was bold enough to peel off his jacket. It parted with his shirt reluctantly. He winced as the shirt’s wet cloth slapped back against his shuddering flesh. He pulled a chair close to the fire and hung his steaming jacket over it to dry. Then another chair for Lisa’s. She took some persuading but relented. The zip slid down and she emerged like a soggy butterfly from its chrysalis. A moment later her jacket steamed across the back of its chair alongside Harry’s. They both edged closer to the fire. Shivering, they slapped themselves and each other, adding files to the fire until it blazed.

“I’m starving,” Harry said.

“Well there’s nothing to eat here,” Lisa replied. “I would love a drink. I’m terribly thirsty.”

“A nice coffee,” Harry suggested.

“Chinese tea,” she replied with a sad smile. “Jasmine.”

“Hot chocolate.”

Lisa shook her head, unwilling to take part any further. A dull heaviness descended upon her, pushing her into a silent, dark place of reflection. Her eyes bored into the fire. Harry observed her. He knew where she had gone and thought it best to leave her there for a while. He’d never been the jolly hockey sticks sort. There, there. Snap out of it. All of that. Best let things take their natural course.

He suspected she was thinking about Herbert. Replaying his end in the mud and rain. Then her own flight for life. He understood all of that. It took him a few minutes to catch up and wonder where his own shock had gone. Did things like this bother him anymore? Of course they did. It was the ghosts they would raise from the grave that concerned him the most.

Snap out of it, Harry.

There. He’d fallen foul of the trend he despised. He smiled.

“What’s funny?”

He looked up to see Lisa watching him.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about something. Miles away.”

He was glad that she didn’t pursue the matter. He stood up. Stamped his feet to encourage the blood to return to them. His socks squelched.

“I suppose we should take off these clothes and dry them,” he said.

Lisa studied her own steaming limbs. “Yes,” she replied without enthusiasm. She started to speak again. Stopped. Then restarted, avoiding Harry’s eyes. “How much do we take off?”

“Well, there’s a theory that says it’s best not to take off anything as the body’s temperature can drop just enough to kill you.”

“Great theory,” she replied leadenly.

“However, seeing as

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