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Vince looked up. There was no one else stood around the grave but the vicar, Edith and himself. Not one relation to mourn Laura’s passing. Standing some distance away he saw Leonard Kimble. He had his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the bitter cold. And he was smiling, which Vince thought a little odd. Smiling at Edith and him. Kimble gave a quick wave and then walked away. What was he doing here? Was that business or personal, thought Vince.

Edith and Vince walked back to the Empire. It was currently closed because of the refurbishment. Builders were coming in the next day to cap off the old well with concrete and re-concrete the entire basement floor as part of the planned changes. Vince also had a couple of interviews to carry out with prospective new projectionists. HQ thought it best if fresh faces were brought in. a clean slate. Vince had argued the case that he should have a deputy manager and had managed to shoehorn Edith into the new role, making the most of her brave actions and utter commitment to the Empire on the night of the flood. HQ agreed with scarce a bat of an eyelid. He guessed they were simply glad to get things moving along and get back to normal.

That afternoon, Edith and Vince informed a young man that he was to become the new projectionist when the cinema reopened for business.

‘The future’s going to be big for the Empire,’ Vince said to him. ‘We’ve got great plans for the place – more screens, more X-rated films in an evening, more bums on seats, securing your future and mine…’

Edith smiled openly at Vince’s newfound confidence.

‘You and I, we’re going to make this place special,’ she said when the new projectionist had left.

‘We are,’ he agreed, kissing her and never failing to marvel at how cushion-soft her full lips were. ‘It belongs to us now. We’re rulers of an Empire!’

*  *  *  *

Edith left Vince making
a phone call regarding the building work going ahead the next morning. She was so happy, and decided
to wander the empty corridors
to take in all that they had achieved.
She could hardly believe the swift turn of events.
There was so much to be done, she thought. The Empire would be transformed under their joint managership. Once more it would become a place of dreams.

‘Ah, mine, all mine,’ said a voice behind her as she stood before the massive cinema screen imagining all the movies as yet to be projected upon it.

She turned. ‘Leonard,’ she said. ‘You surprised me.’

‘Lenny,’ he said. ‘Why so formal all of a sudden?’ Leonard Kimble strolled down the centre aisle towards her, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. ‘The flood did a lot of damage,’ he observed, nodding at the muddy-grey gunge on the ruined carpets in front of the stage. ‘Going to cost something to get it all fixed.’

‘It was being refurbished anyway,’ she said. ‘I saw you today, at Laura Leach’s funeral. Did you know her?’

‘I knew her better than most, I guess. The entire story was good for the Gazette, though; good for me too, if I’m honest. That level of scandal in Langbridge will not come around again in a hurry.’

‘I’m pleased for you,’ said Edith.

‘You don’t like me, do you, Edith?’

The comment wasn’t expected. ‘What on earth makes you say that?’

He shrugged. ‘The way you look at me. The way you talk to me. Little things.’

‘What is it you want, Leonard? If you need to speak to Vince he’s up in his office.’

‘Yes, good old Vince. Done well for himself out of this, hasn’t he?’

‘He deserves to do well,’ she said.

‘Why him, Edith, eh? I mean, he’s a born loser, a nobody. He looks like a baboon wearing a suit. Why would you choose someone like him over someone like me?’

‘Vince is a nice, gentle-hearted man. I don’t think you ought to be saying such things. You shouldn’t even be in here. You’re trespassing, so I think you should leave.’

‘You really think you’re someone, don’t you? I know your mum and dad; they think they’re better than anyone else with their fancy Volvo, avocado-coloured bathroom suite and lawn sprinklers.’

Edith made as if to walk past him. ‘It’s time you left now, Leonard, before you say something you shouldn’t. If you don’t leave, I’ll – ‘

‘You’ll what?’ he said, grabbing her by the arm, jamming his face close to hers.

‘I’ll tell Vince.’

‘I’m
so
scared!’ he mocked. ‘You’re all the same, you women – you girls. Tarts, every last one of you, only good for one thing.’

‘Let me go, you’re starting to hurt me! What’s gotten into you?’

‘What would your precious Vince say if he knew the truth about you?’

She frowned deeply. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Let me go!’

‘I know who you are.’

She yanked her arm free. ‘You’re crazy, Leonard!’ she said, storming away up the aisle. ‘I’m going to get Vince.’

‘Your mum and dad – they aren’t your real parents, Edith.’

Edith stopped in her tracks and turned round. ‘What are you babbling on about? Of course they’re my real parents. Are you ill or something?’

‘Ever wondered how your mother managed to conceive, given that she’d had a hysterectomy a few years before you were born?’

‘That’s not true! I’m going to get the police.’

‘But it is true, Edith. I’ve seen hospital records and spoken to the woman who knew your real mother. You were adopted, Edith. They’re not your real parents. Mad Laura Leach was your real mother.’

Edith was speechless, the words she wanted to say drying up on her tongue. A swarm of strange, disturbing thoughts stung her mind. ‘Why are you creating all these absurd lies, Leonard? What do you hope to gain from it?’

He came towards her. ‘They’re not lies, Edith. You were the result of an affair between Laura and a married driving instructor. He killed himself because of it; she was put into
Bartholomew Place
because of it. Want to know what your real name was going to be? Alex – Alexandra, that’s what Laura called you, but that was never the name they were going to christen you. You were taken from her at birth and given like so much unwanted and troublesome baggage to a nice, discreet couple who couldn’t have children. You’ve been living a lie all this time. Just think if word got out you were actually loony Laura’s bastard child, your mother the suicidal Witch of Devereux Towers. Why, Vince wouldn’t want you, would he? Not now he’s a manager and on the up. You’d become the laughing-stock of the town, someone people would point out when you walked down the street. There’s that bastard, Edith – or is it Alex? They love that sort of thing around here. And think about it; proper legal channels weren’t followed when you were adopted, either. All done on the quiet. On the sly. Your dad was a crafty old geezer. Pulled the right strings to make it happen, keep it hush-hush. Your mum and dad might even go to court for it. At the very least they’d have to leave Langbridge. You all would. So you see, everyone’s been living a lie. You’re a nobody, Edith; the result of a sordid affair with so-called parents that were willing to take a child to satisfy their own shortcomings and help cover the whole thing up. Technically, you don’t belong anywhere.’

She sat on one of the cinema seats. She often wondered why there was no resemblance to her mother and father. Why they avoided talking about her birth, or why they couldn’t provide a birth certificate – destroyed, they said, or lost; or why they talked so cruelly about Laura Leach when she came back to
Devereux
Towers
. And of course it made sense why her Aunty Liz always referred to her as the Miracle Baby. Her mother had been barren, she said; she couldn’t have children and God had smiled upon them…

‘You have proof of all this?’ she said quietly.

‘Oh yes, lots of it. It’s all true.’

‘Does anyone else know about this?’

‘Not yet. And they needn’t,’ he said, reaching out and putting a hand on her thigh.

‘What is it you’re after, Leonard?’

‘Isn’t it obvious? I want you. I always have.’ His hand squeezed her leg, then travelled down to the hem of her skirt.’

‘You want me?’

‘For starters, yes. We can talk how your parents can help financially a little later. Don’t come over all innocent, Edith; you know what it is I want from you.’ His fingers ran up inside her skirt, traced a line along the inside of her thigh.

‘I’ve never done that kind of thing before, Leonard…’ she said, her eyes filling.

‘A virgin? Don’t worry, I’ll teach you everything there is to know. I’ve even bought us a pack of condoms from the machine in the toilet.’

She placed her hand on his, stopping him. ‘Not here.’

He licked his lower lip. ‘Where, then?’

She rose from the seat. ‘Follow me,’ she said sullenly. They went through a set of doors behind the stage.

‘Where are you taking me? Why not do it here, behind the screen? No one will see us.’

Edith stopped. ‘You don’t have to be like this, Leonard. Why can’t you just keep quiet about it all? Why be so nasty?’ Her eyes were glistening with tears.

‘Because absolute power corrupts absolutely,’ he said. ‘And I like the idea of being able to get exactly what I want.’ He pointed. ‘Hurry up and get us to where we’re headed.’

They wound their way through dingy corridors, down a flight of steps. Edith eventually paused at a door. ‘Please, Leonard. Reconsider…’ she said.

‘Through there?’ he asked. ‘What’s through there?’

‘The basement,’ she explained.

His eyes lit up. ‘Where they found the bodies?’

She nodded. ‘It’s quiet; no one comes down here at all. We won’t be disturbed.’

He rather liked the idea. The thought of having sex in the very place they’d fished out the two stiffs caused him to get all heated up and he suddenly grabbed Edith by the throat. His hand groped roughly at her breast. He tried to kiss her but she averted her head. There was the sound of ripping cloth as he tore her blouse, revealing her lacy, white bra. Kimble’s eyes widened in animal anticipation. ‘Fuck it,’ he said. ‘I want to do it right here, against the door!’ He let his hand fall to the hem of her skirt, hoisted it and placed his fingers firmly between her legs, moaning as he felt the soft, resisting mound beneath.

‘Leave her alone!’

Vince couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He’d been on his way to the basement to check out something following the phone call with the builders, needed to get back to them with more information. His surprise morphed into anger when he saw what Kimble was doing, the pale band of flesh beneath the torn material of Edith’s blouse, and her terrified face.

‘Fuck off, Moody!’ Kimble snarled, continuing to hold Edith by the throat. ‘Can’t you see that we’re busy?’

Vince rushed forward. ‘I said let her go!’ He grabbed hold of Kimble and tore him away from Edith. Kimble released her, lashed out with his fists and sent Vince reeling backwards with a couple of well-placed blows.

‘And I said fuck off, you moron!’ said Kimble.

Shaking his dazed head, Vince cried out in rage and launched himself at Kimble again, who tried to fend off a rain of blows, covered his head with his arms. But he wasn’t so easily beaten and he threw his entire weight at Vince, bowling him over to the floor. He kicked him in the ribs and Vince wailed in pain.

‘Stop it! You’ll kill him!’ cried Edith.

‘Shut up, bitch! I told you he was a fucking loser. You’ll get what’s coming to you in a bit.’ He bent over Vince who was doubled-up in agony. ‘Hear that, Moody, you little weed. I’m going to fuck your precious little bitch and I’m going to let you watch. And guess what? She’ll let me do it, too, without a tiny fucking squeak of protest, because I know what I know.’ He sent another boot into Vince’s side, then another, his teeth gritted, his face a devilish mask.

The next instant, Kimble’s head lurched sideways, his skull split open at the back, his blood fanning out to splash the walls and the door. He sank immediately to the ground beside Vince, not a single word or breath coming from him and he lay there, a lifeless mound of clothes. Blood oozed into a large puddle on the floor.

Vince looked up. Edith was holding the new fire-axe she’d removed from the hooks on the wall. As soon as he realised what had happened he scrambled painfully to his feet, clutching his bruised ribs. ‘Christ, Edith – what have you done?’

‘He was hurting you,’ she gasped. She dropped the axe to the floor. It clattered noisily. ‘I was afraid he was going to kill you.’

‘Oh shit!’ Vince said, looking down at the still form of Leonard Kimble, the back of his skull missing, a bloody pulp sitting inside the rest of it. ‘Do you suppose he’s dead?’ It was a silly question. ‘We have to call the police,’ he said, and looked up at her. ‘Are you alright? Was he trying to rape you?’

‘I had to do it, Vince, I had to! I didn’t have a choice. He was raping me and he was hurting you. I had to make him stop, like I had to make all of them stop. They were hurting us, can’t you see?’

Vince’s eyes narrowed. ‘Edith, you’re not making any sense.’