To Catch a Cat (9 page)

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Authors: Marian Babson

BOOK: To Catch a Cat
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Josh was up to something. Or perhaps he'd been fired again and was working round to a good moment to break it to her. Mags lowered her eyelids and observed him through her lashes. He wasn't fooling her, but he was fooling himself if he thought she might be upset at having to leave this dump. Why couldn't he just spit it out? But he never did anything the easy way.
He was hunched over the computer keyboard, moodily stabbing at the keys. Random words flashed up on the screen and then disappeared again with varying degrees of speed. He was talking to himself on that thing. Doodling, he called it. She could follow the pattern of his thoughts as words came and went.
Outrage
…
disgrace
…
evil
…
our fair city
– No, that one was too much, even for Josh, it disappeared instantaneously.
Not safe
… he tried again …
in our own beds
…
She had it then. The Nordling murder. Josh was planning to make a big thing of it on his show. And why not? It was the biggest thing to hit this town since … since …? She shrugged mentally. She had no knowledge of the history of this town if it had one. It was just a town, like so many others they had lived in since she had linked up with Josh and joined him on his downward spiral. This one was a seaside town, that was the only difference. Otherwise, it was just as seedy, crumbling, downmarket and boring as any of the others.
Deserted house
…
abandoned
…
empty windows like hollow eyes
…
what memories of horror?
… Josh was well away now. He picked up speed as he continued with notes to himself.
Grieving widower incommunicado … get interview first … hardhitting late-night stuff
…
Get him to vow revenge?
…
Push to tears?
…
‘You'd better be careful,' Mags warned. ‘The last time you
pushed an interviewee too hard, he complained to the Broadcasting Authority and the Press Council and threatened to sue the station – and you got the push yourself.'
‘Don't worry.' Josh did not even glance at her. ‘I can handle it. This is our ticket out of here.'
Find Nordling
…
Gone to ground … Where?
…
‘You promise?'
It probably would be, but which way? Josh thought it would be upwards, towards that media heaven of his own London-based television show – or national radio, at least. Mags knew from bitter experience that he could antagonise everyone in sight and everything could go wrong again. That caravan on the far side of a sea of mud flickered mockingly on the horizon.
Sometimes she thought the only reason she didn't leave him was because she wouldn't give her mother the satisfaction of being able to say, ‘I told you so.'
Her mother! Sooner or later, she was going to have to break that news to Josh.
Later
, everything inside her cried,
much later
. Only she couldn't wait until Mummy turned up on the doorstep. That would really provoke him into one of their blistering rows – in front of Mummy or not.
‘Josh …' she cleared her throat and tried again. ‘Josh, I have to talk to you …'
‘Talk away.' His abstracted tone betrayed that he wasn't listening and, no matter what she said, he wasn't going to listen to it.
‘Josh …'
There was a thump in the hallway, as of someone who could not resist jumping the last two steps to the ground, then Robin appeared in the doorway, clutching an armload of books.
‘Auntie Mags? I'm going to the library. Maybe I'll be a long time. I have to look up a lot of stuff.'
‘Take all the time you want,' Josh muttered. ‘In fact – '
‘Josh!' Mags cut him off. Robin had shrunk back defensively, only too well able to finish for himself the sentence Josh had started.
‘That's all right, Robin.' The smile she sent him tried to make up for Josh's hostility. ‘You run along.'
‘Do you want me to bring anything back for you?' Robin offered. ‘I used to do all sorts of errands for Mum. I could do any shopping you wanted. Or bring back a book for you – '
‘Not right now, thank you.' He was trying so hard to be helpful. Her heart twisted, he shouldn't feel the need to justify his presence here. That was another thing she had to talk to Josh about.
‘Anything she wants, I can get for her,' Josh said. He turned back to his computer, dismissing both of them.
And that was another thing: he might at least offer Robin the use of the computer once in a while – the money Eva had given them for Robin's lodging had helped to update it. On the other hand, it was a good idea for Robin to learn to use the library properly – and he probably welcomed the excuse to get out of the house.
‘I'm going out myself shortly,' she told Robin. ‘Perhaps you can shop for me another day.'
He nodded and made his escape with obvious relief. Mags decided to do the same. Josh was so deeply immersed in working on his rant that he wouldn't even notice she had left.
Robin stopped running after he had rounded the corner, his heart still pounding, but not because he had been running. Josh hated him – and he hated Josh. How had a nice woman like Auntie Mags got herself mixed up with a dork like that?
One of the mysteries of grown-up life
.
That was what Mum had always said to him when he asked a question she couldn't – or wouldn't – answer. It was marginally better than
Nothing to worry your little head over
, but not much. There was nothing but worry these days.
He clutched his books tighter and turned towards the library. He had to get rid of these books before he faced Kerry and the gang and told them that he'd never had a chance to get near the cat before Mrs Nordling had … died.
He hardly noticed that he had begun running again. As though he could outrun the memory of that awful night. If it bothered him that much, how could Mr Nordling live with himself? He was the one who had done it, after all. Didn't he have even worse memories … more dreadful nightmares?
Even the cat twitched in its sleep sometimes and emitted little distressed mews. Robin was sure Leif was having nightmares, too. But the books were no good at telling him anything he could do about that. Maybe he could find a better book today, one that could really help him to help Leif.
Inside the library, Robin scanned shelves earnestly, wondering if he could find something more informative on the adult shelves upstairs. But librarians were awfully rigid about not allowing children into the adult section. Even if they did allow him, they would be sure to pay particular attention to any books he wanted to take out. And, anyway, he couldn't take a book to the meeting of the gang. If he found one, he'd have to come back for it later.
The familiar prickling at the back of his neck told him that he was being watched again. He turned slowly and was not surprised to find Jamie Patel observing him.
Instinctively, Robin moved on to the next section of shelves, with elaborate casualness, as though he had just stopped in front of the Pets section by accident.
This brought him in front of the Hobbies section and he frowned at the books displayed as though trying to decide which one really interested him. Nothing caught his attention and he was relieved – even if something had, he couldn't carry it to the meeting. The gang already knew too much about him, he did not want to let them find out his real interests. If he had any.
A vague uneasiness swept over him as he looked at the
crowded shelves. All those books about all those subjects – and every one of vital all-consuming interest to someone.
But not to him. What was wrong with him? Why didn't he have a hobby, a real interest? He turned away impatiently and, as he had expected, found Jamie waiting for him.
‘Going to the meeting?' he asked.
Jamie nodded glumly, showing as little enthusiasm for the encounter as he felt himself. For a brief moment, he wondered why they were bothering, then common sense reasserted itself.
If they didn't join the gang, they would have no proper identity at school. They'd just be the ‘new kids', forever hanging around on the fringes of whatever was going on. Worse, if they were to back out now, after agitating to join the gang, they would become the target for its bullying and life would be even more miserable. Better to be with the gang than seem to be against them.
‘We might as well go together,' Robin said.
Jamie nodded again, a trifle less glumly. He had not chosen any books to take out, either, Robin noticed. They fell into step and left the library slowly, in no hurry to arrive at their destination.
Kerry and his crew were already assembled when they reached the old tram shed. The sudden silence that greeted them betrayed that they had been the subject of conversation.
In the abrupt silence, every eye was turned upon them and Robin was grateful for the comradely reassurance of Jamie's shoulder solid against his own. They stood there side to side and stared back at the gang.
‘Here you are.' Kerry stated the obvious. Someone behind him gave a shout of laughter as though he had said something hilariously funny. Kerry smirked.
There were four of them, ranged behind Kerry, their acknowledged ringleader. Pete, his second-in-command, stood slightly closer than the others. All of them watched the newcomers intently.
‘So,' Kerry said. ‘Got something for us, then, have you?'
‘Yes.' Jamie stepped forward, holding out the three cigarettes.
‘Right! I thought you wouldn't have any trouble with that.' Kerry's hand closed eagerly over the cigarettes. ‘So far, so good. Just don't forget the rest of what you've got to do.'
‘No.' Jamie flinched. ‘But it is not time for that yet.'
‘Just so you don't forget.' Kerry swung to face Robin. ‘And what about you? I don't see that cat.'
The sycophantic sniggers in response to this were uneven and slightly nervous. It was funny that Robin did not have the cat, but what had happened to Mrs Nordling was nothing to laugh about. That was bizarre and alien, the sort of thing you saw on the television screen, not something that happened in real life. To someone you knew.
Silently, Robin held out three cigarettes. Kerry took them with visible satisfaction.
‘I meant to get the cat yesterday.' Robin looked straight into Kerry's eyes. ‘So I didn't have to keep it around too long before the meeting. But … before I could … Mrs Nordling …'
‘Awful.' Kerry's head dipped automatically. ‘Maureen is shattered. Keeps thinking what if Old Nordling hadn't come home that night? She'd have walked in and found the body herself in the morning, that's what. And she's scared because she left the window unlatched for you and thinks maybe the burglar found it and got in that way. She wonders if she ought to tell the police – '
‘No!' Robin felt cold and dizzy. ‘No, she can't tell the police. We – ' he recovered quickly. ‘We'd all be in trouble.'
‘That's what I told her. Keep out of it. Nothing to do with us. Just bad luck, that's all.'
‘Anyway …' Robin fumbled for the rest of the cigarettes, offering distraction. ‘Since I couldn't get the cat, I thought, maybe, these would do instead.'
‘Good thinking!' Kerry snatched the cigarettes greedily. ‘That's the kind of man we need in this gang. One who can think on his feet when plans go wrong.'
He was in
. Accepted. Robin glowed with accomplishment,
not noticing the stir of jealousy somewhere amongst the others.
‘Let's party!' one of them called out. They closed in eagerly around Kerry.
‘We can't!' Kerry snapped. ‘I – I don't have any matches.'
‘I do!' Pete flourished a box of matches. ‘I brought them, just in case.' He glared at Robin. ‘How's that for good thinking?'
‘Yeah, fine.' Kerry did not seem pleased. Under the watchful eyes of the others, he grudgingly reserved one cigarette before stowing the rest away in a pocket. ‘Share this around.' He gave it to Pete before adding unconvincingly, ‘We can have a real party later. I have to get home early tonight.'
Robin noted the way Kerry stared menacingly at each of his gang as they inhaled and passed the cigarette on to the next.
‘You don't get any,' Kerry said to Jamie. ‘Not yet.'
Jamie shrugged indifferently, watching Kerry through narrowed eyes.
‘That's enough!' Kerry snatched the cigarette away as it began its second round. He looked uncertainly at Robin.
‘I don't want any.' Robin gave a worldly shrug. ‘I can get it any time.'
‘That's right.' Kerry pinched out the lighted tip and put the cigarette with the others. ‘You can, can't you?' He stepped closer and threw an arm around Robin's shoulders.
Robin looked at the calculating expression in Kerry's eyes and the hope on Jamie's face.
Too late, he realised the trap he had boasted himself into. They thought they had found themselves a steady supply of cannabis.
From him.

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