Catalyst (3 page)

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Authors: Ross Richdale

Tags: #ross richdale, #romantic drama, #dramatic fiction, #drama suspence

BOOK: Catalyst
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More emotions flooded Courtney's mind. She didn't
know whether to laugh or cry, to scream nobody could replace Daddy,
to run into the common room and refuse to budge, or to tell the man
he had no right to take Daddy's place. In the end she glanced back
at Selwyn and saw an unexpected expression. The man averted her
gaze and looked hurt.

"Thank you for coming to pick me up, Selwyn,"
Courtney whispered. "I hate traveling in the bus. I've a load of
stuff to pile in so I'm glad you have a big car. Drive to the
dormitory block. I'll meet you there."

****

"So this Selwyn was the trouble?" Renee asked.

"Not really. In some ways, I felt sorry for the guy.
I think Mom was leading him on. It's his kids that drove me crazy.
He had three, two stuck up girls, fourteen and twelve and their
little brother. He was okay."

"So what was wrong?"

"Mom. She changed. It was as if Selwyn's kids were
perfect and I was the visitor. The fourteen-year-old was a little
bitch. We fought all the time but Mom never saw my view. Laura,
that was her name, stole my make-up and lied through the teeth
about everything but it was me who Mom blamed. Anyhow, I survived
the vacation and for the first time looked forward to returning to
school." Courtney stared into the darkness. "I lasted only a month
though."

"I see."

"Yeah, I stuffed that one up, too"

****

"Come on, Courtney," Kathleen Anderson said. "You're
the one who always said we should stick together."

"I know," Courtney replied. "It sounds fun but what
if we're caught?"

"Well, if you're going to take that attitude you'll
end up doing nothing in your life," Brigitte Somerville retorted, "
We might as well be in a convent."

Sada, the fourth girl present in the dorm, sighed and
watched while Kathleen tried to persuade Courtney to accompany
them.

"That's the trouble," Kathleen said. "It's as bad as
any convent. If they were a bit more liberal around this place we
wouldn't have to sneak out." She gazed at her friend. "Come on,
it's Saturday night. Half the staff are off duty and we'll be back
before lights out at midnight."

"Okay," Courtney relented.

"Right," laughed Kathleen. She ran to her wardrobe
and took out her jeans and white sweater. "I've got some make-up,
too." She giggled. "Want to use some?

"Why not?" said Brigitte.

Fifteen minutes later the four girls sneaked down the
back stairs to Kathleen's Honda car. Kathleen reversed onto the
street, screeched around and accelerated towards Manchester.
Forty-five minutes later they were in a seedy looking club near the
town center. Courtney shivered. She didn't like the look of the
place one bit but had to be confident in front of her friends.

"Hi, you girls," said a formidable looking character
at the door. "Are you all eighteen?"

Courtney gave a mental sigh of relief. If they
weren't allowed in she could suggest they go to a movie.

"Yeah, sure," Kathleen replied and grinned at her
friends. None of them were and Sada, in particular, looked even
younger.

Courtney's relief was only momentary when the doorman
shrugged. "No drugs allowed," he said and opened the glass
door.

Courtney noticed only the stink of sweaty bodies and
cigarette smoke, flashing colored lights and the rock band. The
group pounded out at full decibels and the girls were bumped and
shoved as too many people tried to enjoy themselves in too small an
area.

Kathleen handed Courtney a small pink drink and
giggled. "It's only pink punch. There's nothing in it."

However, something was wrong. The drink made Courtney
lightheaded, not in a bad way but enough to make her throw her
previous doubts aside and begin to enjoy herself. She pulsed to the
beat when a young guy ambled up to her.

"Howdy," he muttered in a slurred voice. "Me name's
Gary. Want'ta dance?"

"Sure." He seemed quite a hunk.

****

Pulsing colored lights, loud music and a crush of
sweaty bodies mixed. The dancing became energetic. Time was a blur.
Courtney's eyes caught her watch. My God, it was almost midnight.
She was in the ladies' room and had vomited in the toilet. In a
mild panic, she tore out of the room right into Sada.

"Are you all right, Courtney?" the girl asked. "We've
been looking everywhere for you."

"Better now," Courtney replied.

"Have you seen Kathleen?" Sada continued. "We have to
go."

Courtney bit her lip and gazed around the crowded
room. Darkness intercepted by flashing blue and red lights made the
dancing bodies mere silhouettes against a haze of smoke and gloom.
It was difficult to recognize anything.

"We lost you both," Sada explained. "It's so late we
decided to get the Honda. Brigitte has it out the front. I said I'd
come in and find you. Hurry! You've been missing for ages."

Courtney followed her friend around the room. It took
elbowing and squeezing but they found their friend giggling and
gyrating in the middle of the floor. She seemed oblivious to
everything.

"We're going," Sada ordered as she grabbed her
friend's arm and propelled her towards the door.

"Hi guys," Kathleen yelled. "One more dance?"

"No," Sada hissed. "We're going. Brigitte has the
Honda out front."

"Spoil sports," Kathleen muttered but allowed herself
to be guided out the exit.

Brigitte saw them approach, jumped out of the
driver's seat and folded it down, so Sada and Courtney could crawl
through into the back.

"I'll drive," Kathleen ordered. As soon as Brigitte
was seated in the front passenger seat, she accelerated down the
city streets towards I-93.

"Don't worry," she said cheerfully. "I'll get us back
to school."

"It's after curfew," Courtney wailed.

Kathleen turned her head. "I know but what else could
we do?" she retorted. "It's not my fault you got yourself lost. We
couldn't just leave you."

"Me?" Courtney said. "I wasn't lost. You were."

"Well, whatever."

"It'll be okay," Sada said. Her calm voice soothed
Courtney's emotions. "We can go up the back stairs."

"We'll be home before lock out," Kathleen said as she
turned onto the interstate. She grinned and accelerated above the
speed limit. Within seconds blue and red lights flashed in the rear
view mirror and a siren sounded. Kathleen's eyes turned wide in
panic and she sped up.

"Stop!" screamed Courtney. She grabbed the girl's
shoulders. "For God's sake Kathleen, stop."

The police car kept pace in an adjacent lane. "Will
the driver of the Honda please pull to the curb," a loudspeaker
crackled through the night air.

"We'll lose him here," screamed Kathleen as they
flashed under the large sign indicating an exit.

Whether it was the speed, the alcohol, or Kathleen's
inexperience, nobody ever found out but the Honda did not complete
the turn. Courtney's mind blurred with vague memories of a screech
of brakes and flashing lights before she blacked out.

****

A flashlight shone in her eyes and screaming reached
her ears. It sounded like Kathleen. Courtney struggled to move but
throbbing pain cut through her mind and she found it difficult to
breathe.

"Hello, there young lady," said a kind voice. "Just
lie still. We'll get you out soon. The seat belt saved you." The
highway patrol officer turned. "We need help here. There's a lot of
blood."

Courtney lost consciousness again.

When she woke she found herself on a stretcher with a
paramedic holding a satchel of clear liquid above her head. The
Honda looked wrecked with the far side squashed in against a
concrete wall. Skid marks gouged deep ruts across a grass strip and
steam rose from the engine.

One other stretcher was beside her. It was Kathleen.
Their eyes met and the other girl burst into sobs and reached out.
Courtney found a cold limp hand to squeeze and wondered where the
other two were.

****

"Sada and Brigitte were killed that day," Courtney
whispered. "A concrete support beam crushed their side of the car
and they never had a chance. Kathleen was hardly hurt but I was cut
up a bit."

"I'm sorry." Renee's eyes were filled with
compassion. "Have you kept in touch with Kathleen?"

"Yeah," Courtney replied and gave a little grimace.
"I wish I hadn't."

"So what happened next?"

"I was suspended for a week. Mom had a blazing row
with the principal, withdrew me from the school and I went to the
state school at home. It didn't work out though. Laura was a
freshman at the same school and caused trouble. Mom and I couldn't
get on, so one day I walked out." Courtney stared through the
darkness at her companion. "I thought that would solve my problems
but I was wrong. My God, was I wrong."

 

****

 

 

Chapter 3

Lem stopped, wiped a hand across his perspiring brow
and searched around. The flashlight beam showed an almost vertical
section of loose rock above him. He grunted. It would be impossible
to go higher. Far below, one tiny flashlight showed where the other
two were while overhead the blue glowworms sparkled across the
ceiling. A faint movement of cooler air tumbled from the tunnel
above and stirred particles of dust in the limestone. Lem coughed
and made one last inspection across the face before he decided to
return to the others.

The slip on the far side was steeper and unstable. He
turned and was about to retrace his steps when his flashlight beam
caught something orange. It appeared to be clothing. Lem frowned
and made his way forward. When the area lit up his casual interest
focused.

Lying with one arm and his head out of the rubble was
their guide. His head tilted back at a grotesque angle and open
eyes bulged from a ghostly face.

"Sam." Lem gasped and scrambled through the loose
soil.

He reached the body in seconds. Sam was dead and by
the look of the pallid, gray skin, had been since they'd slipped.
Lem sighed, pulled the jacket from the debris and laid it across
Sam's face.

"Sorry, Sam," he whispered. "You did not deserve
this."

He squeezed the stiff arm and made his way back.

****

"It's bad news, I'm afraid," Lem said to the others.
"Our guide never made it."

Courtney sucked on a bottom lip before turning and
reaching in the backpack. She took out three fruit bars and handed
them around. "So what're our chances, now?"

"Probably no different. Sam's death explains the
longer wait, that's all. We'll be found, I guarantee it."

"Did you find a way out?"

"I'm afraid not. There's a sheer cliff and loose
stuff everywhere. If we try to reach the upper cave we could bring
the lot down on top of us."

"So what will that rescue team do when they arrive?"
Courtney's voice sharpened.

"They'll have equipment," Renee cut in. "There may be
a different way in. I'm sure there'll be experts who know what
they're doing."

"Like Sam?" Courtney asked.

Lem glanced at Renee and raised an eyebrow.

"Courtney was telling me a little about herself,"
Renee said. "I'm keen to hear what happened, if you don't mind
listening."

"Not at all," Lem replied. It was obvious she wanted
to get the girl's mind off their situation. "And what about
yourself?"

"Yeah," the teenager said. "You've told us nothing.
Why are you here?"

"I slipped down this whopping great hole," Renee
said.

"I know that," Courtney retorted. "You know what I
mean."

"Sure. I'll just bore you both, I'm afraid."

"Try us," Lem replied.

"Well, I'm a junior lawyer, glorified secretary,
chief bottle washer and pen pusher, really." She gave a little
laugh. "Well, key pusher in front of a computer monitor, it
is."

"And I'm sure very talented," Lem said.

"Maybe, if I'm ever given a chance to try."

"So the old bastards rule the roost where you work,
too," Courtney added.

"Not really. The old bastard, as you call it, is a
woman in her thirties who succeeds in making everyone around her
feel inferior but damned if I'm going to grovel."

"Good for you, Renee," Lem said. "Somehow, I can't
imagine anyone getting the better of you."

"No." She sighed. "But it isn't easy, you know."

****

It was ten to five when Annette Usborne placed the
twenty-page document on Renee's desk and fixed her steely eyes on
her. "The layout of this will for Mrs. Stein is incorrect. You know
we indent paragraphs."

Renee swore under her breath and glowered at the
junior partner. "It is the legal standard layout of wills," she
explained. "Modern procedures do not indent paragraphs but
double-space them instead."

"That may very well be but in our firm…" Annette
continued.

"Then get Lois or one of the secretaries to do it,"
retorted Renee. "I'm busy at the moment." This was a small matter
but the constant pinpricking over the last six months was getting
to her.

"She's gone home," hissed the other woman. "I agreed
to take the will for Mrs. Stein to sign this evening. She is one of
our most valued clients, you know."

Normally, Renee would have grimaced, taken the
document and redone it. This time she stopped and turned to the
immaculately dressed woman standing by her desk. "Then do it
yourself, Annette."

"Why of all the..." Usborne began.

"I am not a secretary or typist," Renee replied in a
controlled voice. "I am a qualified lawyer. If you are so concerned
about changing modern layout, I feel sorry for you."

Annette Usborne's face turned white with anger and
her jutting chin shook when William Usborne Senior walked into the
open office. Annette's father was in his mid-sixties, prim and of
the old school. He was, though, scrupulously fair and in Renee's
eyes, far more genuine than either his daughter or son, William
Junior. Unfortunately, the rumors were that the elder William would
retire at the end of the year.

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