Thursday, 15 April 2021

Gloria- Spoiler Version (short story)

 

Gloria

“Gloria.”

The voice was distant and feminine, urgent and sudden.  There was something familiar about the phone call, but she really didn’t remember.  She dropped the handset and hung up.  This was the fourth time they’d called this week and she really didn’t know how they’d got her number.

She chuckled to herself.

It had to be just a prank.  Had to be.  She certainly wasn’t imagining the strange calls and it wasn’t as if she was headed for a breakdown.

Gloria adjusted her sweatbands, grabbed her personal cassette player and headed out from her apartment.  She was always on a run these days.  And so was he.

She reached the park, eyes peeled for the man she always saw there, the somebody she was running after.  She’d talked to him only once, met him on the main line, but now she felt like she was stalking him.  Which she was.  In a way.  She didn’t know why she liked him so much; it must’ve been something he’d said.

And there he was, just on the other side of the pond.  The perfect man.  He’d stopped to take a drink from a diet cola, and she felt her innocence slipping away just seeing him quench his thirst, staring at him in his skimpy running shorts and vest.  He was already drenched in sweat, still handsome.  She had to get him somehow.

She caught herself gawping.  It was lucky it was so early and there weren’t many people about.  Embarrassing.

She lifted her headphones and pressed play.

“Gloria.”

It was the prank caller, the same woman, the same urgency, the same passion.

Again.

She threw her headphones away, but the wire caught, and the flimsy things dangled from her waist instead.  What?  What the…?  It couldn’t be.  Was that just voices in her head, calling her name?  Or had it come from the cassette player?  She checked the tape; it looked normal enough.

Gingerly, she placed the headphones back on her head, took a breath and hit the play button.

It was just music, upbeat pop.

No strange voices.

Gloria breathed a sigh of relief and took off.

She collided with someone and found herself falling to the floor.  Her cassette player bounced to the ground and dragged her headphones from her head.  The music abruptly cut off.

She blinked, shaken and dazed from the rebound.  The person, the man who’d she run into, it had been him.  He extended a hand and smiled.

“I think you’ve got to slow down,” he said with a voice that was chocolatey and smooth.

Gloria nodded, forgetting how to speak, and took his hand.  She was already starting to blow it; it was the only chance she was going to have to make a good impression, and if she were lucky, she’d have a lover for the afternoon.

“You okay?”

She nodded again, nerves getting the better of her; she had to be careful not to show it.  She suddenly realised was still holding his hand.  She shook herself free.

“Look after yourself,” he said as he continued on his way.  She took the chance to stare at the rounded orbs filling out his exercise gear.

She sighed.  He’d been so close.  And she’d touched him.  And she’d blown it.  She thought it’d be so easy; she was an attractive woman after all.  She thought it’s be just a case of him seeing her again and… and he’d just fall in love with her.  But no.  Her mother’s words rang in her head:

“If everybody wants you, why isn’t anybody calling?”

She wasn’t wrong.

She shook herself out of her fugue and retrieved her personal cassette player; it was broken.  Just like her love life.

Maybe she just needed to marry for the money rather than hold out for her true love.

“Gloria.”

A whisper behind her, but there was no-one there.  A shiver ran up her spine and she quickly headed home.

As she approached the door to her apartment, she heard a sound from within.

Ring, ring.  Ring, ring.

It was them.

She slid the key into the lock and opened the door.

Ring, ring.  Ring, ring.

They were calling again.

She didn’t have to answer; she could just leave them hanging on the line.

Ring, ring.  Ring, ring.

And then she remembered who it could be, who was on the other end of the phone.

They had to have her number, know the alias she’d been living under.

Ring, ring.  Ring, ring.

“Gloria.  Gloria.  Gloria.  Gloria… Gloria.  Gloria.  Gloria.  Gloria…”

 

*Inspired by Gloria by Laura Branigan*

Gloria (short story)

 

Gloria

“Gloria.”

The voice was distant and feminine, urgent and sudden.  There was something familiar about the phone call, but she really didn’t remember.  She dropped the handset and hung up.  This was the fourth time they’d called this week and she really didn’t know how they’d got her number.

She chuckled to herself.

It had to be just a prank.  Had to be.  She certainly wasn’t imagining the strange calls and it wasn’t as if she was headed for a breakdown.

Gloria adjusted her sweatbands, grabbed her personal cassette player and headed out from her apartment.  She was always on a run these days.  And so was he.

She reached the park, eyes peeled for the man she always saw there, the somebody she was running after.  She’d talked to him only once, met him on the main line, but now she felt like she was stalking him.  Which she was.  In a way.  She didn’t know why she liked him so much; it must’ve been something he’d said.

And there he was, just on the other side of the pond.  The perfect man.  He’d stopped to take a drink from a diet cola, and she felt her innocence slipping away just seeing him quench his thirst, staring at him in his skimpy running shorts and vest.  He was already drenched in sweat, still handsome.  She had to get him somehow.

She caught herself gawping.  It was lucky it was so early and there weren’t many people about.  Embarrassing.

She lifted her headphones and pressed play.

“Gloria.”

It was the prank caller, the same woman, the same urgency, the same passion.

Again.

She threw her headphones away, but the wire caught, and the flimsy things dangled from her waist instead.  What?  What the…?  It couldn’t be.  Was that just voices in her head, calling her name?  Or had it come from the cassette player?  She checked the tape; it looked normal enough.

Gingerly, she placed the headphones back on her head, took a breath and hit the play button.

It was just music, upbeat pop.

No strange voices.

Gloria breathed a sigh of relief and took off.

She collided with someone and found herself falling to the floor.  Her cassette player bounced to the ground and dragged her headphones from her head.  The music abruptly cut off.

She blinked, shaken and dazed from the rebound.  The person, the man who’d she run into, it had been him.  He extended a hand and smiled.

“I think you’ve got to slow down,” he said with a voice that was chocolatey and smooth.

Gloria nodded, forgetting how to speak, and took his hand.  She was already starting to blow it; it was the only chance she was going to have to make a good impression, and if she were lucky, she’d have a lover for the afternoon.

“You okay?”

She nodded again, nerves getting the better of her; she had to be careful not to show it.  She suddenly realised was still holding his hand.  She shook herself free.

“Look after yourself,” he said as he continued on his way.  She took the chance to stare at the rounded orbs filling out his exercise gear.

She sighed.  He’d been so close.  And she’d touched him.  And she’d blown it.  She thought it’d be so easy; she was an attractive woman after all.  She thought it’s be just a case of him seeing her again and… and he’d just fall in love with her.  But no.  Her mother’s words rang in her head:

“If everybody wants you, why isn’t anybody calling?”

She wasn’t wrong.

She shook herself out of her fugue and retrieved her personal cassette player; it was broken.  Just like her love life.

Maybe she just needed to marry for the money rather than hold out for her true love.

“Gloria.”

A whisper behind her, but there was no-one there.  A shiver ran up her spine and she quickly headed home.

As she approached the door to her apartment, she heard a sound from within.

Ring, ring.  Ring, ring.

It was them.

She slid the key into the lock and opened the door.

Ring, ring.  Ring, ring.

They were calling again.

She didn’t have to answer; she could just leave them hanging on the line.

Ring, ring.  Ring, ring.

And then she remembered who it could be, who was on the other end of the phone.

They had to have her number, know the alias she’d been living under.

Ring, ring.  Ring, ring.

“Gloria.  Gloria.  Gloria.  Gloria… Gloria.  Gloria.  Gloria.  Gloria…”


*Reveal the secrets of this story...


Saturday, 10 April 2021

Earl Grey with Gingerbread Biscuits (short story)

 


EARL GREY WITH GINGERBREAD BISCUITS


“Really Ethel, I don’t know how you can live in a place like this.”  Her guest, one of her oldest and dearest friends, shook out her coat and hung it up on the little coat rack by the door.  “That’s another pair of expensive shoes ruined.”

“I’ve told you before and I’m telling you again,” she said, ushering her friend to the sofa.  They seemed to go through the same ritual every fortnight when she came in from the city.  “Shoes like that aren’t fit to walk through the woods in; you should buy a decent pair of boots.”  She clicked her heels.  “Like these.”

“Me?  Seen in those hideous things?  I think not.”

“It’s that or keep ruining your fancy shoes.  Just ‘cos it looks pretty don’t mean it’s practical.”

“One must keep up appearances dear.  Polite society would shun me.  Shun me, Ethel.”

“Mavis,” she hobbled over to the door leading into the kitchen, “it’s not like you can’t afford to keep buying new shoes.  I’ll go get the tea; the kettle just whistled before you knocked.”

“Earl Grey today?”  She heard Mavis shout from the lounge.  “I really fancy a bit of Earl Grey.”

“Yes dear.”  She popped a couple of tea bags into the pot and poured on the hot water.  She picked out her fanciest tea cosy and dressed the pot before placing it on the tray containing her most delicate china.  “How are the daughters?”  She always used her best crockery when Mavis visited.

“Don’t ask.”

“That bad dear?”  She made sure the biscuits were arranged neatly before heading back to the lounge.  She placed the tray on the table and sat on the edge of her armchair.  “I thought your eldest were doing really well?”  She lifted the teapot.

“Oh, the two eldest girls are wonderful.  They’ve been excited about the big fancy do on Saturday.”  Mavis daintily picked up a slice of lemon and dropped it in her cup.  “No sugar, love; I’m trying to cut down.”

“Has that meddling old doctor been up in your drawers again?”  She poured some tea into her own cup and dropped in a sugar cube.  The spoon clinked against the china as she stirred.

“No, no nothing like that.  Need to start looking after myself; getting old Ethel.”

“Aren’t we all,” she said, dropping in a second sugar cube.  “And what about your youngest?”

She sighed.  “Trying my patience.”  Her friend took a sip from her cup.  “She’s just so lazy.  Never does her chores properly; I really don’t know what I’m going to do with her.  And you know the worst part?  She keeps letting mice into the house!  Tells me she feels sorry for them and they need a home too.  She feeds them.  Bloody vermin.”

“Language, Mavis.”  Ethel sat back in the chair and took in the aromatic scent of her tea.  “It sounds like you need to give that girl a little chastising.  Teach her a lesson.  She’s in your house; she’s got to show some respect.”  She waved her hand over the plate of biscuits.  “Help yourself to some biscuits.”

“Well, she’s already banned from leaving the house.  And I’ve told her she is not to go to the do with her sisters.”  Mavis reached for the tray and paused.  “Really, dear?  Gingerbread men?  After I told you what happened to that baker the last time I was here?”

She giggled.  “Oh come on Mavis, you’ve got to let me have a little bit of fun now and again.”

“It’s morbid is what it is, Ethel.”  The old woman picked up one of the little men and took a bite.  “Mmm.  Fair play, you’ve outdone yourself again; you’ll have to give me the recipe.”

“See?”  She took a little tipple of her own tea.  “We’re not too old to keep enjoying ourselves.”

“You know Hyacinth’s girl?  She’s still living in that cottage.”  Mavis put the one-legged man on the saucer with her cup.  “With those men.  Helping them clean up the place apparently.”

“Well I never!  It’s not right.  A young girl shacked up with a bunch of old men!  If you ask me, she’s doing more than polishing their ornaments.  Disgusting!”

“Ethel!”

“Well, what else is she doing there?  I heard they all sleep in the same room.”

“I’m sure it’s all innocent.  They are old men after all; they probably can’t look after themselves.”

“I know what’s she looking after.  We all know what men are like.”

“Ethel!”

“It’s her poor mother I feel sorry for; it can’t be easy with the father gone.”

“I know, dear.  I’ve struggled since losing Henry.”

“I’m sorry, Mavis.”  She patted her friend's knee.  “I didn’t mean to bring it up like that.”

“Quite alright.”  The old woman took another nibble of the gingerbread.  The other leg.  “You know Hyacinth tried to go to talk to her?  Bring her home.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes.  But you know what that little upstart said to her?  Told her to go take a long walk off a short cliff!”

“Girls these days don’t know any respect.”

“It’s terrible.  Hyacinth is so worried about her; she’s been sneaking apples down to her from the orchard.”

“And the girl was rude to her?”

Mavis nodded and pursed her lips.  “It’s all going to end in misery, mark my words.”

“Oh my.”  Ethel took another sip of tea.  The cup was almost empty.  “Did you hear about what happened to poor old Gertrude?”

“Is she back in hospital again?  She’s always so sickly; stuck in that bed in the middle of nowhere with no family close.  All alone in that forest.  Like you.  And, Ethel, her granddaughter is the only one who goes to visit her.  Poor thing.  It’s a wonder no wolves have gobbled her up.”

“Brace yourself, dear.  Something horrible happened.”  She leaned forward and filled up her cup from the pot.  “Allegedly, it’s all that grandchild’s fault.  She was murdered, Mavis.”

“No?!”

“Oh yes dear.  Murder.”

“And the granddaughter did it?”

“Well, apparently she was getting it on with one of the woodcutters.  He said he did it for her.  To save her.  Sliced Gertrude open with his axe.”  She drew a line across her belly with her finger.  “Cut her wide open and spilled her insides everywhere.”

“Ethel, please don’t be so tasteless.  You’re going to put me off my tea.”

“The things people do for love.  It’s a sick world, Mavis.”

“That poor woman.  She didn’t have it easy.”  She brought her cup up to her lips.  “Well, I suppose that’s why the girl was the only one going to visit her, if you know what I mean.”  She shook herself.  “It’s just all so gruesome.  What a horrible thing to bring up.”

“Just keeping you up to date, dear.”  Ethel leaned forward and picked up one of the gingerbread men.  “Anyway, it’s no worse than what you told me about that young man last time.”  She bit off the head.  “Breaking into that man’s house, robbing him blind.  And then when he got caught…”

“That’s a little bit different, Ethel.”

“I don’t see how.  The mess after falling from that height!”

“That young boy was desperate.  Now, I’m not saying it’s any excuse for what he did, but he got conned out of some money, and his poor mother and him were starving.  They had nothing.  It’s just unfortunate he turned to crime.”

“Still…”

“Murder is a very different thing to theft, my dear.”

“True.  True.”  She took another bite of the biscuit.  “But you can’t excuse what he did, Mavis.”  She washed it down with a little more tea.

“No.”

Ethel topped up her friend’s cup.  “Any news on George’s daughter?”

“Not much.”  She snuck a sugar cube into her cup.

“Sugar, Mavis?”

She tapped her finger on her lip with a smirk.  “She’s still living with that beast of a man.  Such a pretty girl too.”

“I’ve heard the rumours.  Heard he’s rich.”

“Very.  Lives in a big mansion, but he’s not a pleasant man from what I hear.  Bit of a temper.  Not very well-endowed in the looks department.”

“I can see why people think she’s only there for the money.”

“Well, Ethel, she told her father that it’s true love.  She said it's more important than looks.”

“Mmhmm.”  She dipped one of the gingerbread man’s legs into her tea and crunched it between her teeth.  “But that’s all very well, dear, but there has to be a limit.”

“George told me she was engaged to some fella in the village before.  Big handsome fella.”

“Money over looks eh?  I suppose she’s thinking of the future.  Looks fade.”

“You haven’t seen him, Ethel.”

“That bad?”

“Oh yes.”  Her friend sipped at the cup.  “Beast of a man.”

“Oh dear oh dear.”  She shook her head.  “Girls these days, Mavis.”

“The men are just as bad.  It wasn’t like this when we were gals.”

“No dear.”

“Anyway, Ethel.”  She finished off the tea in her cup and placed the crockery onto the table.  “I must be going.”  She stood.  “Got to go sort out the girl’s dresses and get their shoes from the shoemaker.  And get myself some new shoes.”

Ethel stood, brushing the crumbs from her apron.  “Where is this fancy do then?”

“At the castle.”  She strode over to the door and picked up her coat from the hook.  “The prince is hosting.”

“I can see why shoes are important.”

“Why?”  She slipped her arms in the sleeves.

“Well, I’m sure you heard about the prince.”

“I’m sure whatever you’ve heard, Ethel, it’s just rumour.”

“He’s got a bit of a… you know… about feet.”

“Really Ethel, you can’t believe everything you hear.”

“I’ll have you know, Mavis, that I heard this from a very good source.  He likes his ladies’ shoes, that prince.  Especially after they’ve been worn.”

Her friend’s face scrunched up in disgust as she pulled her coat over her shoulders and adjusted it.

“You never know,” said Ethel, “might get you in with the royal family if one of your girls wears the right shoes.”

“I shall bear that in mind.”  She reached for the door and opened it.

“Don’t be a stranger, Mavis.”  The two old friends exchanged air kisses.  “I do look forward to your visits.”

“As do I, dear.  As do I.”  Mavis stepped out the door and looked around.  “You know, Ethel, I don’t know how you keep this house so nice.  It must be difficult with all the animals around.”

“It’s not the animals you’ve got to worry about; it’s the kids.”

“No respect.”

“I know, I know.  Anyway, take care and enjoy your fancy do.  I’ve got to get the oven preheated for later.  Having the grandkids for dinner.”

“Take care dear.”

She waved to her friend and closed the gingerbread door.

 

The End.

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the final case of JACK GEMINI (sample)

 


1. Woman

                I was staring into deep space the night she crashed back into my life.

I was stood at my window, whiskey in hand, and watching the stars.  My reflection, a faded, translucent replica of my scruffy unkempt face stared back at me, a slightly better-looking parallel Jack Gemini.  The white pinpoints of distant suns freckled his face and head and I charted a course through his thoughts; they weren’t saying very much.  I sighed.  It was going to be one of those nights.  I could feel it.

The station was quiet, too quiet, especially considering the storm that would drop into my office that night.

                I was up late, head pounding, either from the alcohol or the time, and my case files lay strewn across my desk behind me.  I could almost see the papers in the reflection, plastered across the void, a constellation of crimes and misdemeanours to match the stars in my head.

I told myself, way back when, that I’d never leave Earth, never end up on one of these death traps floating in space.  But here I was.  Earth had changed too much for me since the accident, my accident.  That had well and truly fucked things up.  Not that things had been going well before, but I’d thought things would improve.  It was all bullshit.  Chasing philanderers and missing cats was all I was good for now.  That, and hearing from weirdos wanting me to look into their alien sightings.

                I took another swig of my drink and turned away from the window.

                Aliens.

                As if.

                I slammed the glass on my desk.

                That was it for tonight; I was done.

                I needed to get some sleep.  Or I could head to Sam’s bar.

                I grabbed my coat and hat from the rack, but my exit was disrupted.  Someone was hammering at my office door.  I turned to face the interruption.  There was a curvy silhouette visible through the glass, curves I would recognise anywhere even though it’d been years since I last laid eyes on them.

                Her.

                I returned my coat to the hook and moved back to the window.

                “Come in,” I shouted.  “This better not take long.”

                The hinges whined as the door opened and her heels squeaked across the wooden floor, a black dress hugging her shape and a white shawl draping her shoulders.  The devil approached my desk.  It was her alright.  Her ruby lips flashed me a smile, friendly, deceptive.

                “Hello, Jack,” she said.

                “It’s been a long time.  Not long enough, if you ask me.”  I sat in my chair and swung my feet onto the desk.  “It’s late.”  I reclined and crossed my fingers on my stomach.  “For humans anyway.”  I nodded to the chair across from me, the cigarette tucked between my lips, and nodded with my head.  “Sit.”

                “I need your help,” she said as she sat in the chair opposite.  “You’re the only one who can.”  Her eyes did the cute puppy dog act; I wasn’t falling for it.

                “Really?  There’s a first time for everything,” I said.  I lit a cigarette and puffed the smoke toward her.  “You must be really desperate to come to this side of Space Station Delta.  You not exactly the type to get dirty.”

                “Earthside is too pretentious for this kind of thing… and you’ve always managed to get me out of tricky situations before.  Back when we were married.”

                “Bullshit; I was the one who got you into trouble most of the time.”

                “You and I remember things very differently,” she said with a smirk.  She lit her own cigarette, her lipstick staining the filter, and puffed.  “At the end of the day, you always had my back; you were always there for me.”

                “We’re not married anymore,” I told her, “and you wanted nothing to do with me after the accident.”

                “You were gone for five years, Jack.”  She crossed her legs and sat back.  She shrugged, flicking ash on the floor.  “What the hell was I supposed to do?  Everyone thought you were dead.  I thought you were dead; I moved on.”

                “I came back.”

                “I moved on.”

                “I still came back, Jill.  You didn’t wait for me.”

                “Five years was too long to wait; I still had my own life to live.  What was I supposed to do?”

                “You should’ve had faith,” I said.  “You should have had faith that I would come back.  And I did.  I came back.”  I glanced over to the bathroom to my right.  “Did you know I still have it?  My wedding ring?”

“No.”

“I keep it safe.”  I faced the woman.  “Locked away.”  It was in the cabinet above the sink.

“Goddammit, Jack.”

“You were the only thing I thought about, during the accident, the whole time.”

                “You weren’t thinking,” she replied.  “You were trapped; they told me it was like a coma.”

                “So?”

                “You didn’t even know any time had passed,” she raised her eyebrows at me, “and as far as you were concerned you were in and out.  The rest of us…” she sighed, “we had to go the long way around.”  The woman stubbed out her cigarette on the veneer of my desk.  “Pour me a drink, Jack.”

                I leaned forward and followed suit; my cigarette joined the many chars and stains on the edge of the wood.  I stared at her eyes as I picked up the bottle.  She watched me.  I wanted to know if she loved me, if she still loved me after all these years.  I certainly did.  Love her, that is.  Even after she left me.  I felt a little guilty thinking about the woman opposite; I wasn’t exactly single.  There was Sam.  He helped maintain my drinking habit with that little bar of his.  I filled my empty glass and pushed it across the table.  It was probably for the best that I didn’t mention my other lover to Jill.

                She lifted the drink and stared at the contents.  “You always buy the good stuff.”  She swirled it around and looked at me.  “So,” she said, “you’ll help me?”

                I retrieved a second glass, a clean one, from my drawer and filled it to the brim.  I was going to need a big one.  I shrugged at her expectant expression.  “I’ll listen.”

                “That’s not an answer.”  Her cheeks reddened.  Anger.  It’d been a long time since I’d seen that face.  “Tell me you’ll help.”

                “I told you,” I said.  I tried to sound mellow and measured, hoping to calm the storm.  “I’ll listen.  Then I’ll decide whether to help.  Or not.”  But I couldn’t help myself.  “It’s not like I owe you anything.”

                “Excuse me?!  Who gave you the money to get you back on your feet?”

                “And, I’m grateful for that,” I said.  “I bet my own life insurance policy was a nice windfall for you.  It was the least you could do.”

                “Get bent, Jack.”

                “You better start talking; I was heading to bed when you arrived.”

                “You’re not fooling anyone.  Bed?” she said.  “Or is it a bar?  Or a cheap tart?”

                “Why can’t it be all three?”

                “You’re despicable.”

                “That’s why you married me, Jill.”  I chugged some whiskey and it burned my throat with its sour tang.  “You like a bad boy.”

                “Bullshit,” she snorted a laugh.  It was cute.  “All you did was peddle stolen goods and involve yourself in illegal betting rings.  A dirty cop.  It was never anything big.  You were charming, but harmless.”

                “Oh, I’m still charming,” I said with a smirk.  “And that stuff may be true, but I’ve changed.  You stomped all over my heart and broke me.  Everything was different after I came back, back from the accident.  You changed.”

                “Get over yourself, Jack.”

                I sighed and returned to my reclined position in the chair.  I’d forgotten how arguments felt with her.  I swung my boots onto the desk and sipped at my whiskey.  “You asked for my help.”

                “You are a pet dick, are you not?” she said.  “Isn’t that what you do?  Help people?”

                “For a price, yes.  And I haven’t decided if I’ll take your case yet.”

                “Understand, and I mean it, this case has nothing to do with me and you or what we had before.”

                “Stop wasting my time.  Out with it.”

                Jill took a deep breath and huffed.  She stared at the ceiling.  “It’s Howard.”

                “Your new husband?”

                “Jack, Howard and I’ve been married six years,” she said, a particularly stinging barb to my self-esteem.  “That’s longer than we were together.”

                I gulped down some whiskey.  “Only because you had me declared legally dead.”

                Jill glared at me.

                “Fine,” I said, “I’ll drop it.”  I emptied my glass and placed it on the table.  “Carry on.”

                “Howard’s missing.”

                “How long before you declare him dead?”  I couldn’t help myself.  “Scientist, wasn’t he?”  The look on her face told me to stop but I continued anyway.  “Did you lose him to a time vortex too?”

                “Jack.”  She took a deep breath and sighed.  “Look, you either take my case or don’t.  I told you this isn’t about us.”

                “Everything is.  To me.”

                “You sentimental fool.”

                I shrugged.

                Jill pursed her lips and leaned forward.  “Then help me.  For everything we had.”  Her painted nails encircled her glass.

                I waved my hand, gesturing for her to continue.

                “Where do I start?” she said.

                “The beginning is usually the best place.”  I retrieved my notepad from my pocket and took out a pen.  It was old fashioned but there was something about the scrape of a nib across paper, albeit fake paper, that helped me think.  “How long has he been missing?”

                “Two days.”

                “Have you been to the police?”

                “This morning; they filed a report,” said Jill.  “Told me he’s probably off fucking some floozy.”

                “And is he?”

                “No.  No, he wasn’t… isn’t like that.”

                “Why did you wait so long to go to the cops?”  I asked.  “You waited until this morning to report him missing.”

                The woman huffed.  “Yes, I did wait,” she said.  “I was beginning to get worried.”

                “You still waited two days.”

                “There… there was good reason… and don’t even think this means anything between you and me… but we’ve been… Howard and I… we’ve been arguing a lot lately.  Sometimes we go days without speaking to each other.”

                “Trouble in paradise?”  She glared at me.  “So, you argued before he went missing?”

                Jill nodded as she lit up another cigarette.  She blew smoke out from the edge of her ruby lips.

                “What did you argue about?”

                “It doesn’t matter; the point is he’s missing, and I want you to find him.”

                I stood and walked to the front of my desk, keeping my eyes firmly focused on her.  “If you really want me to find him, then I need to know everything.  All the dirty little secrets, all the faults and flaws, the minutiae.”  I leaned back on the desk, resting my buttocks against the wood.  “Anything could be a clue to finding him.”

                “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?  Picking apart my relationship with Howard.”

                “Do you want me to find him or not?”

                She sighed, and a plume of smoke collided with her bosom.  “Howard works a lot.  Too much.  I barely see him during the day.”  She stared at me.  “There were times where I only saw him when he woke me getting into bed at God’s knows what time in the morning.”  Jill pulled a tissue from her cleavage and dabbed her eyes; she carefully avoided smudging her eyeliner.  “It’s not like I didn’t try; I tried every day.  He’s hardworking and focussed.  Committed.  It’s one of the reasons I married him.”

                And his paycheque, I thought to myself.

                “I’d take him lunch, but he was always too busy to stop.  I’d try and meet him after work, but he was always finishing up with something important.  I’d make him breakfast, but he’d always rush out the door with barely a bite.”

                “It sounds like your marriage was on the rocks.”

                “A rough patch.”  She stopped dabbing at her tears and looked at me.  “People argue, Jack.  It doesn’t mean their marriage is breaking down, whether you,” she jabbed her finger at me, “want it to or not.”

                “It doesn’t matter if I do or don’t,” I told her.  “I’m just trying to get a full understanding of your situation.  You never know what will crack the case.”  I picked up the bottle of whiskey and topped up her glass.  “I’m guessing you had an argument about him working too much and you never getting to spend any time with him?  Yes?”

                “Yes.”  She sipped at the newly filled drink.

                I scribbled in my notebook and paused; I wasn’t writing anything important, just making it look like I was.  The pause was for effect.  I looked into her eyes.  “Maybe the police were right about him running away with another woman.  Or was it a man?”

                “He wasn’t like that,” she said, “I already told you; he’s faithful.”

                I retrieved my own glass from behind me and topped up the empty glass.  I took a hefty swig.  “You don’t work?”

She shook her head.

“It must have been hard being alone all the time in that big empty house.”

                “I know what you’re suggesting, and I really don’t appreciate the accusation.”

                I took a sip of the amber liquid in my hand.  “You didn’t cheat on your husband?”

                “No, no, I didn’t.”

                “Not even once?”

                “No.”

                “You can’t blame me for being suspicious.”

                “Oh?”

                “You cheated on me.”

                “That was different,” she smirked.  “Howard and I… it’s the real deal.”

                I didn’t believe it, but her words still stung; the words stung deep in my guts.  I stood and walked away from her, not wanting her to see my face.  She still loved me.  I knew it.  I’d never stopped loving her even when I was with Sam.  And yes, I’d cheated on her in the past, but it was in my nature.  She’d done the same.  It was in her nature too.  We were a perfect match.  And she was going to use that to her advantage, use my feelings for her own benefit.  I reached the window and stared into the void beyond.  I was going to help her.

                “Jill,” I said, still facing the stars, “what exactly was your husband working on?  It must have been pretty important to take him away from someone as smart and as beautiful as you.”

                “Work.  The same thing that never stopped you.”

                “What was Howard working on?”

                “I don’t know; it was something to do with a new power source,” she said.  “Sustainable and pollution-free.”

                “Sounds too good to be true.”

                “He was close,” she said, “very close to a major breakthrough.”  I heard the crackle of her cigarette as she took another long drag.  “And then, he went missing.”

                I turned and faced my ex-wife.  “You think his work had something to do with his disappearance.”

                She nodded.

                “And you told the cops about your suspicions?”

                She nodded again.  “They weren’t interested.”

                I sighed.  “And tell me, did your husband have any enemies?”

                “What sort of question is that?”

                “A legitimate one,” I said.  “You told me he doesn’t sleep around so someone else must be behind it.  Jealous co-workers?  Rivals?  Anyone sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong?”

                “I… I… don’t know.”

                I approached her, skirting my desk and I stood over her as she sat.  “Think.  I need you to think; it’s important.  Was there anything unusual happening at your husband’s work?  Anyone acting strange?  It might only be something small, but it could be the key to finding out what happened to Howard.”

                Jill took a long hard drag of her cigarette, burning it to the stub.  She threw the used-up filter in the meagre remains of the whiskey and blew the smoke up at me.  She looked at me.  “Jack,” she said, “you need to understand something.”  She reached around me and placed the glass on the desk.  “Howard works in a very competitive industry; there are always rivals.  Everyone is trying to solve the energy crisis.”

                “Any names come to mind?”

                “Some.  Howard works for Solaris University in Sector Three.  Paid tenure.”

                I bet.

                “He had free rein; the University trusted him.  Especially considering the big companies that always liked to sponsor his research.  There was a pretty big one bankrolling his current project; I just don’t remember who.”

                “Give me some examples.”

                “Electrodyne,” she counted with her fingers, “Calesthetica, Elongate, Tribeca Systems… they’re the main ones it could be.”

                “Do you mean Tribeca Corp?”

                “No, Tribeca Systems.”

                “I’m sure they were called Tribeca Corp,” I said.  “Even before I got stuck in that time vortex.”

                “No, they’ve always been Tribeca Systems.”

                “My mistake.”  Another name stuck out.  “And Elongate?”

                “You might remember them as Elongax back in the day.”

                “I remember,” I told her, “they used to supply the police force with their uniforms and vehicles; they’ve never been particularly interested in new tech.  I’m pretty certain nothing has changed.”

                “Do you think one of those companies is behind my husband’s disappearance?”

                “No, but it’s a start.”  I jotted down the four company names in my notepad; I circled Tribeca.  I was sure they were the ones in charge of power generation on Space Station Delta.  “It might be nothing.”

                Jill grinned at me.  “You’re going to take my case.”

                “It’ll cost you.”

                “You’re going to exploit a woman in a vulnerable state, worried for her missing husband?  Well, Jack, you’ve really hit a new low.”

                I shrugged.  “I’ve got bills to pay.  And you want me to prioritise your case over my others, yes?”

                Jill rolled her eyes, the same way she always used to whenever she didn’t get her own way.  Her breasts rose and fells as she emitted a deep sigh.  “I want you to find Howard.”  She clutched her purse and it clicked open beneath her fingers.  “I’m transferring you your initial fee now.”  She retrieved her SmartBoy and tapped along the screen.  “You’ll be rewarded handsomely when you find him.  More, if he’s still alive.”  She returned the device back in her purse.  “Done.”  The woman stood, her body close to mine.  I could smell the sweet fruity aroma of her favourite perfume, the one I always bought her for her birthday.  Had she worn it on purpose?  To manipulate me?  Or did she still love me?  A small part of me prayed for the latter.  Her bosom pressed against me for a moment and I yearned for her.  I wanted her.  I missed her.  Her ruby lips pursed.  “I trust you will do your best,” she breathed.

                I nodded and swallowed hard.

                “Good.”  She stepped away from me and smiled.  “I’ll be in touch.”

                “When?”  I replied a little too quick, too eager; I hadn’t meant to sound desperate.

                “Soon,” she said.  “Keep this under wraps; it could be dangerous.”

I nodded.

The woman sauntered to the door, her hips and bum swayed as her stilettos clicked a path to the exit.  She paused.  “It was good to see you again, Jack.  In spite of the circumstances”

                She left, and I was alone in my office once more.

                I needed a goddamned drink.


 

2. Bar

                I headed out and into the streets of Sector Six.  I pulled my coat closer around me.  That was the problem with living Star Side they always skimped on the atmospheric controls.  Sectors One to Four always got the best treatment, being Earthside; that was where all the rich people lived, and they paid for good living.  Not like the other Sectors.  We were the scum of Space Station Delta.  Well, second only to the scum of Sector Seven.  Low priority.  The best choice for power conservation; we were in an energy crisis after all and it wasn’t as if we needed as much power as Earthside, not with all their energy sucking luxuries.  I sighed to myself.  I wished we had the luxuries of Earthside.  It was too chilly here.

                The streets were quiet and so were the bars that lined the pavement, even for this time of night.  Maybe it was a weekday; being a self-employed alcoholic I’d always lose track of my days.  I checked my watch.  Wednesday.  You’d think this would be the busiest night.

                I made my way down the steps leading to Hell, my favourite haunt and owned by my current lover, Sam.  I glanced at the paving bricks beneath my feet with each tread.  Every slab bore an inscription, and I personally found them a little on the nose, but I always made a point of reading at least one every time I came here.  There were things like ‘hired a friend but he had no experience,’ and ‘gave a homeless man money and he bought drugs.’  Who’d ever come up with the idea when the bar was founded must’ve found it pretty funny at the time, but it really wasn’t.  ‘Giving my dog treats to make her happy; she got fat and died.’   Yes, that one was certainly a barrel of laughs.

I could hear music, a dreary and longing tune, coming from inside as I reached the door.

Maybe I should add ‘helping Jill’ to the list behind me.

I entered the bar.  Bathed in a vulgar crimson light, familiar and gaudy Halloween decorations greeted me; it was like this all year round.  Themed.  I hated it.

                “You’re not playing it again, Sam?” I said to the bartender of the almost empty room.  There were three or four regulars, me being one of them, propping up the bar.

                “I love this song,” said Sam.  “It reminds me of you.”  He winked at me.

                “What?”  I took up my usual stool.  “Sad and depressing?”

                “It’s romantic, Jack.”  He leaned over the bar and planted a kiss on my cheek.  “I don’t care if you like it or not; I do.” He placed glass in front of me and filled it with whiskey.  “It’s about a man who cares more about his work than his lover.”

                “Who sings it?  The lover?” I took a sip of the smooth liquid; it was better than the store-bought stuff in my office.  “Or the man?”

                “The man,” said Sam.  He placed his elbows on the bar and looked at me.  His long black hair was still in its neat waves despite me knowing he’d been working all day.  “He longs for something he’s missed out on.”

                “Yep,” I said, “sounds sad and depressing.”

                “Could be worse.”

                “How?”

                “He might not have a lover, someone who loves him.”

                I sighed.  “Are you trying to tell me something, Sam?”

                He stood upright and grinned.  “You work too hard, Jack.”

                “Don’t I know it.”  I retrieved my cigarettes from my coat and pulled out a white stick.  Sam offered me a light and I took it gladly.

                “You also smoke and drink too much.”

                I raised an eyebrow in reply and took another swig of the whiskey.

                “Actually,” said Sam, “you’re drinking is keeping me in business.”

“It’s just an excuse to see you.”  I smiled at the man.  “Why else would I come here?”

“You should come over more often and stop working so late.”

                “Talking of work, you’ll never guess who just showed up in my office tonight.”

                “Mrs Lafferty lost her cat again?”

                “No,” I said.  “Jill.”

                Sam sighed.  “Really, Jack?  You know I don’t like it when you talk about her.”

                “Jealous?”  I flashed him a grin; he didn’t buy it.

                “I just think it’s time you moved on; you’ve been pining for her for years.  What did she want, anyway?”

                “She offered me a new case.”

                “And you took it?”

                I nodded.  “Why wouldn’t I?  It’s good money.”

                “Bullshit,” he said.  He waggled his finger at me.  “You’re letting your old life get in the way of your new one.  You should’ve told her to bugger off.”

                “Jill and me, we’ve got a lot of history.”

                “That’s exactly how it should stay.  History.”

He walked away and I watched his thin frame from behind as he served one of the other patrons.  He was another one I was letting get away.  Like Jill.

Maybe Sam was right; I was allowing my ex-wife to prevent me moving on.  Except that wasn’t quite true.  Not after she showed up tonight.  It brought back memories.  Old feelings.  I imbibed some more alcohol and took a long hard drag of my cigarette.  Something from my past, something that used to be central to my life had collided headfirst with my work in the present.

And her new husband was missing.

New husband.

Married for six years.

I’d only been seeing Sam for one, maybe two years.  On and off.

I emptied the glass and lifted it for a refill.  Sam was still chatting with someone else in the bar and I was happy to wait; he might still be pissed at me for bringing up Jill.  I’d soon bring him round.  I sucked on the cigarette in my mouth and looked around the bar.  There were familiar faces in here tonight.  Sam was serving the old woman who came inside to keep warm and drink herself to oblivion.  Just down the bar from me, another woman.  A high-flying executive type.  A wannabe, at least.  There was no way she was on good money to live down here in Sector Six.  I sighed.  I suppose there was that completely impractical saying about dressing for the job you want.  It wasn’t going to work, I thought to myself as I admired her upmarket suit, there was no way someone Earthside would hire you when they find out you were from Sector Six.  Nice clothes though; they looked expensive.

Sam topped up my glass with a sly smile; he couldn’t stay mad at me for long.  Me and him, it was all just fun.  I returned the smile.  Fun.  I’d have to take him out somewhere nice.

I looked down at the filled container in my hand.  More whiskey.  Just what I needed.

The bartender moved to the third patron, a man from my life before the accident.  This night was becoming haunted; my past was coming back to slap me in the face.

I stubbed out my cigarette in an ashtray on the bar and stood.  I walked over to my old friend and partner, a face from when I was a cop.

“Hello Robert, it’s been a while.”  I took up a stool next to him.

“Yes,” he said, “yes, it’s been too long.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you since before the accident.”

“No.”  He sipped his own drink.  It looked like vodka; it wasn’t the type of drink I would choose.  The last time I’d drunk vodka I’d blacked out and ended up naked in a back alley in Sector Seven.  That was a good night.

I eyed Sam who took the hint to leave us be.  Work related.  Sam understood and was used to it.  I really needed to take him out sometime, make up for things.  “I was going to come down the station tomorrow.”

“It’s probably best you don’t,” said Robert.  “That’s partly the reason I’m here.”

“I didn’t think you were here for a catch-up,” I said.  “How’s the wife by the way?”

“Still dead.”

“Shit, sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s been nearly a decade, Jack.  I don’t expect you remember everything.”

I took a large gulp of my whiskey.  “Still with the police?”

Robert nodded.  “Head of Sector Three division.”

“Good for you!”  I patted his back.  “I remember you wanting that back on Earth.  When we worked together.”

“I would never have gotten this far if we were still partners, Jack.”

“Never a truer word spoken,” I said as I raised my glass and Robert clinked his against mine.  “I was a goddamned awful cop.”

“Nah, you were good enough,” he said.  “Just a little jaded and misguided.”

“I think ‘dirty’ is the word you’re looking for.”  I pulled out my cigarettes and offered my former partner one.

“I quit.”

“Really?”  I lit up my own.  “You used to smoke more than me.”

“I had to,” said Robert.  “Promotions are much easier to reach when you’re not hacking up phlegm when climbing the ladder.”

“Fair enough.”  I took a long drag and blew the smoke away from him and toward the bar where it collided with a horned devil mask.  Fitting.  “So, what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

He looked me dead square in the eyes.  “You know why.”

I drew in a deep breath.  “She swung by my office this evening.”

“I gathered she would.”  He took another swig of his vodka.  “She always runs to you when she’s out of options.  You’re going to help her, aren’t you?”

I nodded.  “It’s a paid gig.”

“You’d do it for free.  For her.”

“I need the money.”

“Bullshit,” said Robert.  He turned to face me.  “I know things between us weren’t great even before the accident.  After we fell out, after the argument, I swore I would never help you again, but I want to help you now.  Make amends.  And I’m telling you, officially and unofficially, you’re better off out of this mess.”

“Are you after her yourself?” I said somewhat in jest.  “She’s a paid client; I’m not going to turn down the kind of money she was offering for me to find her husband, and it’s not as if your lot were any help to her.  She told me the cops told her he was off fucking someone else.”  I paused.  “Wait, what argument?  The last time I saw you, you were just about to be transferred to Sector Three.”

“I saw you just after my transfer was made official,” said Robert.  “You accused me of deserting you.  You were drunk at the time.”

“I must’ve been very drunk; I don’t remember that at all.”

“You were absolutely hammered,” he said.  “You came banging on my apartment door demanding to speak to me, barged in and started berating me.  You said some pretty awful things.  Some of them were true.”

“I don’t remember.  Maybe the time vortex messed with my brain.  But if it happened, then I’m very sorry.”

“It was a long time ago,” said Robert.  “It’s forgotten.”  He took my cigarette from my hand and took a long drag.  He let out a big sigh with the smoke.  “I told you I was making amends.”  He handed the cigarette back.  “I’m here to help.”

“You could help by answering a few questions.”

“Jack, it would be a good idea not to ask those questions.”

I emptied my glass and waved to Sam for a refill.  “I can’t let this go, Robert.  Not when Jill’s involved.”

Our drinks were topped up before my former partner began talking again; it was obvious he was nervous about anyone overhearing.  His tone changed and his voice lowered.

“You know what Howard was working on, right?” he whispered.

I nodded.  “A new power source.”

“More or less,” said Robert.  “The company bank rolling his research is leaning in on this hard; you don’t want to get noticed by them.”

“Do you mean Tribeca Systems?  Are they ones funding him?”

Robert sighed.  “I can’t tell you that.”

“And why aren’t the police getting involved?  Was that your decision?”

“No.  Message from above,” said Robert.  He pointed up.  “I told you; they are leaning hard.  We were told to keep everyone away from the case.  Including Jill.  They don’t want this getting out; the power crisis is too important.”

“So now you’ve got the fancy job, you don’t want to jeopardise it?”

“I’m jeopardising my job just talking to you.”

“And Jill?  Why is she being kept out of this?”

“It’s for the best.  She might blab.”

“Instead of trying to find her missing husband your lot drove her to me with tales of extramarital activities.”

“That’s why I’m here tonight,” he said.  “I honestly didn’t think she would go to you.  Unintended consequences.”  He took a drink of vodka.  “It’s a good thing I had her tailed, isn’t it?  And before you say anything, it was for her protection.  Professor Lowe’s disappearance is big news.”

“Did you tell anyone you came to me?”

“No, and I’m keeping it under wraps that Jill came here.  The official report will say she stayed at home after speaking with the police.  I want as little complications around this as possible.”

“Because of your career?”  I stubbed out my cigarette and offered Robert a fresh one.  He took it without hesitation or rejection.  I lit it for him and followed suit with my own.  “If your career’s so important, why are you getting involved?”

“History.”  He puffed the cigarette.

“We’ve got a lot of that.”

The other man nodded.  “Too much.”  He blew out a plume of smoke.  “I’m saying this again; you don’t want to be involved in whatever’s going on here.”

“It’s too late, Robert; I was involved as soon as she was.”

“You’re too much of a sucker for that dame.”

I sighed and took a large swig of my whiskey.  “Don’t I know it.”

My former partner downed his drink.  “I need to get going; it’s late.”

I nodded to him as he stood.

“Take care of yourself, Jack.”

I nodded again.

“I mean it,” he said.

I turned to him, and I don’t know what instincts made me do it, but something felt wrong; I jumped to my feet and tackled him to the floor.

And then everything to my left exploded.

The windows of the bar burst inwards, glass and wood shattered and shook; debris and dust became missiles, firing into the room.  I felt shrapnel splatter across my back.  Something pierced my coat and my skin.  Pain.  I fell on top of Robert.  We hit the floor together and he grunted as I knocked the air from his lungs.  Smoke filled my nose, burning, acrid.  My ears rang and Sam’s sappy love song played, distant and mumbled.

I didn’t want to lose him either.

I clambered to my feet, disconnecting myself from Robert’s body.  He said something but I couldn’t hear him.  Dizzy.  Eyes and breath on fire.  I staggered and fell against the bar and my fingers shifted rubble and dust.  My side hurt.  I tried to focus but I only saw blurred lights; smoke and dust danced through the air.  My torso was wet.  Something trickled along my skin.  The pain made it harder to move; deep and cutting, it spread through me.  I stumbled and tried to steady myself to no avail.

I went down.

I fell.

I felt myself knock into a stool and recoil to the floor.

The music grew clearer as I lay there, the wound in my side bleeding out and the smoky stench growing strong.  I heard the lyrics.

Love is lost but not forgotten…

I opened my eyes.

Sam’s beautiful face looked down at me and everything faded away.


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