The Lesley Glaister Collection Volume Two by Lesley Glaister

Author:Lesley Glaister
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
Published: 2017-07-27T00:00:00+00:00

I rang Green’s next day, which was a week to the dot from when we’d spoken, and was told she was off sick again. Sick my foot. I drove to Chestnut Avenue and sat in the car under the tree but hours went past and dark came and there was still no sign of anyone. She didn’t know what thin ice she was skating on. It got to midnight, the lights out in all the other houses in the street. Rain was coming down on the car window and it was hard to see. I got out and went to the front door. The key was under a stone by the doorstep – you’d think a criminal would have a better idea of home security.

I put the light on in the kitchen and it made the budgie jump. I took a look in his cage – the water had all spilled out of his feeder. I topped it up for him and gave him a bit of Trill. He got stuck into that water like there was no tomorrow.

I drew the curtains so that nobody would think it amiss as I went from room to room. I used the bathroom, then started my search for clues as to her whereabouts. The house was all done up in an old lady’s way, and I twigged that it was really Mrs Martin’s but she’d been relegated to the cellar. I’d like to have put it to Charlie then, man to man, how could he treat his mother like that? Where was his respect?

In the bedroom was a wooden bed, a duvet with a design of clouds, not my taste and more modern than anything else in there. You could tell which was her side from the nightie under the pillow – a baggy pink T-shirt, not the sexy type. I got in the bed and pulled the duvet over my head to get the smell of her. There were bits of dyed hair on the pillow and lower down some of the fair and curly ones.

I took my time then, going through her things. On her bedside table was a white china lamp; a couple of paperback novels (unread by the look of it); an alarm clock set for seven-fifteen; a box of tissues, soft peach. On his side were a bird book and a couple of wildlife magazines. There was anti-wrinkle cream by the mirror and a photo of Charlie on a bridge.

The wardrobe was an old dark job with carving on the door. I went through her clothes: size ten and a few twelve. I picked some out to take for her: the nightie, a warm jumper and some undies; white with lace; navy with red dots; silky beige. Two bras, 34B, one white, one black. I took all the personal items out of her undies drawer. Underneath was flowery lining paper that gave off a bit of a scent, which I thought a nice touch, and underneath that an envelope.

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