Predisposed To Murder - Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Don’t be absurd, you’re…just a child,” Max Cutler blustered.

“I’m sixteen, nearly seventeen,” Pip coolly replied, “And while the cat’s away, the mice might as well play, don’t you agree?”

“Look, Pip, I’m flattered and all that but…”

“Don’t be coy, Max, it doesn’t suit you. Oh, I may not have Nina’s stunning looks or the best boobs in town but I’m a virgin who doesn’t wish to remain one for much longer and who better to break me in than a randy stud like you?”

“I’ve heard that teenage girls like to fantasize…” he stammered, unsure how to proceed with this preposterous development. April Showers had taken off in a big way and Nina was filming on location in Greece. He had promised to keep an eye on Pip and had dropped by to do just that. Now, here he was, being casually propositioned by the girl in Nina’s own spacious living room. Obviously Pip was infatuated with him and he was flattered…well, sort of flattered. She wasn’t anything to drool over, after all, just a spotty teenager, pretty in a nondescript way but nothing special. He had to hand it to her, though. She was as a cool cucumber, offering him her virginity on a plate as if it were something she did every day. A man not easily shocked, Max was appalled. “Like I said, I’m flattered. But we can only ever be good friends, Pip. You can see that, surely? What would Nina think if…?”

“Oh, spare me the big betrayal scene Max! It’s not as if you love each other…”

“Says who?”

“Says the world and your mother, for a start….”

“Leave my mother out of this.” Max began to get angry. “I’m a reasonable man, Pip, but you’re going too far. I won’t play your silly games, do you understand? Now, let’s just forget this conversation ever happened and get back to…”

“Normal…?  Yes, let’s get back to normal, as if there ever was such a thing.”

“You’re trying my patience, Pip. I came by to see if you were okay, not…”

“To seduce me…? But you rather like the idea, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes. How can you pass up the chance of a real live virgin for the taking? Yummy, eh…?”

“Now you’re being disgusting.”

“I disgust you? Imagine how I feel, then, knowing how it was you who killed poor Ray and my father having to pay for a crime he didn’t commit because you haven’t got the guts to confess.”

“You’re mad…” gasped Max but could feel the blood draining from his face.

“I’d say you’re the one who’s mad, Max. Mad Max, just like in the movie!” she laughed loudly. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. To Max Cutler’s ears it might easily have been the flapping of a bat’s wings out of hell. Pip stopped laughing and regarded him with an intensity that scared him, made him forget altogether that he was dealing with a teenage girl. “You got mad with poor Ray, right? Then you stabbed him with that carving knife? The same knife he’d been slicing ham off the bone for doorstep sandwiches, right? That wasn’t very nice, Max, not after the pair of you had just made love. But no one knows about that, do they? Especially mummy…or she might cut you off at the bone instead…”

“You’re mad,” Max could only repeat dazedly.

“I was there, Max, hiding behind the sofa.”

“You were there?” Max croaked.

“But you mustn’t worry about a thing. Your nasty little secret is safe with me. Who’d believe me anyway?  People would only say I was lying to save my father. Heaven only knows why he chose to take the rap for you. He must have thought Nina did it. Well, they say do love is blind ‘n’ all that.” She shrugged. “How stupid can you get, eh? But…what’s done is done. I can’t change things, no one can. Not unless, you want to confess?” The pretty mouth twisted into a contemptuous sneer as it threw down the challenge. Max struggled for words but found none. “I thought not. But we all of us have to move on, right?” Max nodded dumbly. “I can’t prove a thing of course. It’s my word against yours, Daddy’s too since he’s determined to stick to his story. So you’re quite safe. If I breathe a word people will only say what they always say, that children should be seen and not heard. Mind you, they also say there’s no smoke without fire…don’t they?”  She crossed the room, put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth.

Max froze. Even so, the warmth of her lips and the natural expertise of her kiss came as no unpleasant surprise.

His mind was reeling. This was nothing short of madness, and the girl was right, who would believe her? Yet how could he trust the little minx to keep her mouth shut? Suppose some people, started to believe…?  Take his mother, for example. Oh, God, no, that would be tantamount to a conviction. Even if no one believed Pip, they would wonder... That alone could destroy me. Hadn’t he seen common gossip do its worst often enough? Besides, he was quickly becoming aroused by the soft, slim figure in his arms; they had already, instinctively, closed around her.

Pip was right about something else, too, he mused wryly. What hot-blooded male could resist a virgin?  Hardly able to believe what he was doing, he scooped the girl up in his arms and carried her upstairs. Unable to meet the shining gaze turned up to his, he made love to this slip of a girl in the same bed where, night after night, Nina and he had engaged in wild, passionate lovemaking since he had moved in several months earlier.

Later, he lay wide-awake while Pip slept fitfully beside him. What have I done? The girl already knew him for a murderer, damn her, and now she had another hold over him. If Nina ever found out…He shuddered at the prospect. At the same time, the girl’s performance in bed had astonished him. Clumsy at first, she had quickly learned to take her cue from him, so much so that the end result had been an incredibly prolonged, sensuous experience. Oh, she lacked Nina’s ability to excite him, sure enough, but she gave him something else…an indescribable sense of sheer pleasure that he’d neither expected nor sought.

It had been just a physical thing, at first. The word ‘blackmail’ sprung to mind then ducked its ugly head and did not resurface. It would always be there, lurking, likely to reappear at any second. He couldn’t deny that. But does it really matter?  Why not bed the girl from time to time if that’s all it will take to keep her quiet…and have some fun into the bargain? True, Pip is no Lolita, but... By heaven, the girl has potential.

He got out of bed, pulled on a dressing gown and went downstairs. For no particular reason he crossed to the painting young Billy Pike had given him for a birthday present. Nina hated it. “That horrible thing is not going up on my wall!” she had screamed at him, but relented when he’d pointed out that she had invited him to move in so it was his wall too and there had to be give and take in every relationship. She may well have suspected he was winding her up, but hadn’t been able to fault his logic.

Max frowned. Nina’s perspective on the painting was dead right. It was a monstrosity. The bird’s trapped, terrified expression among the plant’s gaudy red, orange and white berries sent shivers down the spine. Nor did one have to look far to discover its inspiration in the boy’s troubled mind. Billy had never been the same since the fire in which young Johnny Sparrow had perished along with his mother. Did that also explain Pip’s outrageous behaviour, he wondered?

His mind wandered back to that first time Ray Bannister took him home to meet his family. He, Max, had been so jealous. The Bannister’s were a real family, nothing like the travesty he’d had to endure with his mother for years. They frequently ate together, shared jokes, poked fun at each other, teased one another mercilessly and lapped up every minute of it. Sylvie Bannister was a quiet, homely person. Her husband, Raymond, was a small, rotund figure, not unlike Annie Cutler but bursting with joviality and love, none of the malicious possessiveness that his mother had exercised over him for as long as he could remember.

Memories came flooding back, mostly of Ray but Max did his utmost to avoid those. He recalled a party at the Bannister’s that Johnny Sparrow had gatecrashed and almost stole the show with his lively chatter and how Pip had chased after him, determined to deliver him back to their parents. The phrase ‘a lamb to the slaughter’ crossed his mind. Max shivered and pulled the dressing gown more tightly around his suddenly chilled, naked body. Pip couldn’t have been more than eleven years old then, he reckoned. So young and so much pain in store for the poor kid. The more he tried to excuse Pip’s recent behaviour, the less guilty he felt…about everything…even killing Ray. It was an accident, after all. And how was I to know Nathan Sparrow would take it into his daft head to take the blame? The more fool, him.  Pip obviously didn’t see him as a cold-blooded killer either or she wouldn’t have been so keen to sleep with him. As for that, well, only time would tell where, if anywhere, it would lead.

Yawning, Max returned to the bedroom to find Pip wide-awake, smiling eagerly, arms outstretched. Without a word he climbed into the sumptuous double bed beside her, far less reservedly this time. Moreover, it crossed his mind briefly, he may well only have been going through the motions of making love but there was no holding his adrenalin; it flowed fast and furiously, any hint of affection obliterated by the sheer thrill of sexual reward.

Nor did Nina’s return a week later put a damper on Pip’s affair with Max in the least. Pip made sure of it.

……………………………………

“Where are my car keys? Oh dear, this cold of mine…perhaps I shouldn’t drive,” groaned Pat Fox.

“I’ll help you look,” Pip offered, anxious to be rid of the old bat who had already overstayed her latest visit by two weeks.

“That’s kind of you dear,” said Nina’s mother, and promptly sat down while Pip searched the living room.

“Are you sure they’re not in your bag?”

“Of course I’m sure. That’s the first place I looked. Now, let me see, I took them out to…what?”

“Let me look,” said Pip and wrested the expensive leather handbag, a birthday present from Nina, from the woman’s grip.

“What do you think you’re doing young lady? Did I say you could look in my bag? How dare you!  The cheek of it! I’ll tell Nina…”

“Tell her and see if I care,” thought Pip but said nothing. She could not, however, resists throwing the silly woman a triumphant I-told-you-so smile as she retrieved the keys from the bottom of the bag.

“Oh, well, thank you dear,” murmured a somewhat abashed Pat Fox before surrendering to another fit of coughs and sneezes.

“What you need is some nice hot lemon juice,” said Pip in a no-nonsense tone that brooked no argument and disappeared into the kitchen.

Pat Fox watched her go over the rim of her handkerchief. The girl was a puzzle, and no mistake. Lately she had been tetchy, to say the least, yet she could be kind and thoughtful too. “She means well, I suppose. Teenage girls will be teenage girls, after all…” she murmured although, “It’s no good, I really cannot stand the girl,” she confided to a wine stain on the carpet. “Nina really must get that stain removed,” she told Pip who had reappeared carrying a mug of hot lemon juice.

“I’ll see to it,” Pip promised, sat down beside the woman and watched her sip at the drink.

“Oh, it’s hot!”

“It will do you good.”

“I suppose. It’s rather nice, I must say. I feel better already. Thank you dear.”

“My pleasure…”

By the time she had finished the drink, Pat Fox was feeling not only considerably invigorated but also more cheerful. “I feel so much better now. You can’t beat the old-fashioned remedies, can you?”

“You certainly can’t,” Pip agreed, saw the woman to her car, waved her off and continued to stand in the cold air for some time after the vehicle had turned the first corner. Suddenly, she burst out laughing. Nina’s arsehole of a mother had no idea of course how much vodka she had poured into the lemon drink. She dashed up the steps and grabbed a bicycle from the inner porch.

Pat Fox drove with care, as she always did. For no obvious reason she was feeling content, almost happy, in spite of the cold symptoms that had dogged her every move for days. She ached all over but was comfortable enough and driving always gave her such pleasure. The car was new, yet another present from Nina. The smile on her lips began to fade. She worried so about Nina.  It was bad enough that her daughter should have become inadvertently mixed up in a murder investigation…but, ever since, Nina had become so…different. Nina had always been stubborn or perhaps determined would be a kinder description…headstrong, certainly. Now…all this attention, constantly in the newspapers…and taking up with a gigolo like Max Cutler hadn’t helped matters. 

Pat sighed as she veered left. What Nina sees in the likes of Max Cutler, I cannot for the life of me imagine. Oh, he‘s handsome and can be very charming, but what else is there to the man? As far as she could make out, he’d never done a decent day’s work in his life. And that awful mother of his…perhaps it’s just as well that Pip is  around to keep an eye on things although…what is it about that girl?  Try as she might to feel in the least sympathetic, the child irritated her beyond all reasonable measure?  No, not irritated, that’s not the right word at all. Disturbed, perhaps? Now you’re just being silly, Patricia, she remonstrated with her conscience.  Even so, she continued to explore the possibility as she drove. Teenagers were invariable infuriating at times but…disturbing? No, that wasn’t the right word at all. So why couldn’t she let it go? Or was it the other way round, it wouldn’t let go of her?  Stop this, Patricia, you’re being absurd. But, too late, it had taken off and there was no stopping its running circles in her mind, making her feel slightly dizzy.

She shut her eyes for an instant. What am I doing?  She would have cried aloud, but all speech failed her as the wheel pressing against her palms reminded her that she was driving. For heaven’s sake, woman, get a grip. Her eyes flew open, just in time to see the side of a red van with bold white lettering on it that she couldn’t read rushing up to the windscreen. She did not remember braking. Nor did she hear the sound of shattering glass or the smash of metal on metal or the awful stink of smouldering rubber. Mercifully, she remained indifferent also to the explosion that followed soon afterwards.

No one in the crowd that quickly gathered at the accident scene paid any attention to the young woman on a bicycle watching from a short distance away. If they had, they might have wondered why she was smiling, grinning even like the Cheshire cat in the classic children’s tale. 

Nina was devastated by the loss of her mother. As far as Pip was concerned, though, the best thing to come out of Pat Fox’s death was the arrival of Carol Brady into their lives. Why Nina phoned her was mystery, even to Nina herself. “I don’t know why I called Carol, I just did,” was all she said when Pip asked, “She and Mum were friends so I thought she ought to know. But isn’t she a treasure? She’s such a comfort and such a help too…”

Even the discovery that Carol had known Max Cutler for years did nothing to undermine Pip’s affection for the woman. Apparently, the Cutlers had been neighbours once upon a time and Carol’s son, Liam, had been at university with Max. It occurred to Pip, more than once, that if Liam took after his mother he couldn’t be more different from Max. Carol was everything Pip genuinely admired in a woman. She was attractive, self-assured, could hold her own in any conversation and exuded an earthy commonsense that made you feel…safe. Yes, that was the word she wanted. She always felt safe in Carol Brady’s company.

If Nina all but went to pieces when her mother was killed in a tragic car accident, Max was all but indifferent. He was no practical help at all, but merely hovered and made sympathetic noises while generally getting in everyone’s way.

Pip, too, was glad of Carol Brady’s support. The older woman offered invaluable help and advice about the inquest, registering the death, organizing the funeral, preparing the wake …everything. She was neither intrusive nor bossy, but simply there whenever Pip needed her, whether on the spot or at the other end of a telephone.

Consequently, as far as Pip was concerned, the immediate aftermath of Pat Fox’s untimely demise went like clockwork, leaving her more than content with a job well done.

To be continued on Friday

Predisposed To Murder - Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Why, oh why, won’t he see me?” wailed Nina Fox, “Whatever they were arguing about, it couldn’t possibly have been me so why won’t he tell me?”

“Of course it was about you,” snapped her mother, “What else but a woman would two grown men quarrel over that results in one killing the other?”

“But there was nothing, ever, between Ray and me. We were just good friends, that’s all.”

“Tell that to the press.” Pat Fox sighed, “Not that anyone will believe you. You’re a scarlet woman, my dear, like it or not. Still…” She gave a cynical sigh, “it probably won’t do your career any harm.”

“How can you say that, Mum, when poor Nathan is…Oh, but this is a nightmare, a nightmare…! I can’t believe Nathan would or could kill anyone. He’s such a quiet, gentle man.”

“It’s the quiet ones you have to watch or so my mother used to say,” Pat Fox remarked despairingly. She had come to give her daughter sympathy and support, but somehow all was not going to plan. Every time she opened her mouth, the wrong words tumbled out as if she had precious little control over her own vocabulary. She tried again. “People used to say your father was a quiet, gentle man and look at him…” She swore inwardly/ “If Nathan has a violent streak perhaps it’s better to find out sooner rather than later…”

“Better for whom, Mother? Not poor Ray, that’s for sure.”

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know what you meant, mother. You never liked Nathan from the start…”

“I don’t dislike him,” her mother protested weakly.

“You could have fooled me.”

“Never mind all that now, dear. We have to face facts. Nathan has admitted to killing Ray Bannister and is facing a murder charge, manslaughter at the very least. Whatever, he will be going to prison for a very long time. Meanwhile, you have to be strong and get on with your life.”

“And what about me, where do I fit in?” a small voice mumbled from the doorway. Neither woman had heard or noticed young Pip enter the room.

“Pip…!” Nina flew to the child and hugged her. Pip submitted passively, glaring at Pat Fox over Nina’s shoulder. “You’ll stay with me of course,” she declared impulsively and almost had second thoughts on the spot until her mother intervened.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Nina. You can’t possibly take on a child.”

“I’m not a child, I’m nearly fifteen,” Pip said quietly.

“She’s not your responsibility, Nina. Let Social Services decide what to do with her, they’ll know best.”

“What to do with her?” Nina raged at her mother, “You talk as if she’s a piece of unwanted furniture to be disposed of one way or another. Well, she isn’t, she’s a child. More to the point, she’s Nathan’s child. He’d want me to look after her.”

“Oh, and what about your career...? He’d like to see that go down the pan, too, would he?  Besides, doesn’t he have a say in this burst of maternal responsibility?”

“He refuses to see me.”

“Quite. At least he has the sense to draw a line under your relationship and so should you. See sense, darling, and cut your losses,” she began to plead, “I feel sorry for the child too, of course I do, but you can’t do this Nina, you simply can’t.”

“I don’t want to go into care,” said Pip in the same quiet, almost toneless voice that she had adopted since her father’s arrest.

“Nor will you,” Nina promised and hugged her tightly, “I’ll see to that.”

“Over my dead body,” fumed her mother, instantly regretting her choice of words yet again and promptly left the room, flustered and angry.

“We’ll be best friends, you and me, right?” Nina put to the girl.

“Okay,” said Pip.

“Best friends,” Nina repeated, continuing to hold the slim form close and trying hard to put the lack of response down to shock. The poor kid must be terrified, she told herself although not entirely convinced. Relations between her and Pip had, until now, been fair to reasonable, nothing more or less. But what choice do I have? She owed it to Nathan, surely, to look after his daughter? The poor child had already lost her mother and brother and now her father. But she mustn’t cry in front of Pip, she mustn’t. “I’ll be right back,” she promised and fled the room.

Pip wandered to the window and looked out, seeing nothing of the pretty garden. Her father was innocent, so why had he told the police he killed Ray?  It didn’t make any sense unless…He can’t have thought Nina had anything do with it, surely?  Is that why he’s lying, to protect her?  It was up to her, Pip, to speak up…well, wasn’t it? But how could she confess to killing Ray. Prison would be worse, much worse, than going into care or being stuck with Nina. It should be Nina going to prison for murder. That has been the plan. “I hate her, I hate her,” the girl muttered between clenched teeth. If only Nina hadn’t been delayed or Max Cutler hadn’t been at the flat. If only…Max and Ray hadn’t argued. If only…she, Pip, hadn’t tried to take advantage of the situation, only to watch it fall apart before her very eyes.

Pip sighed. Of one thing at least she was certain. She must say nothing. But she would get her revenge. Oh, yes, she would make them suffer. Max, Nina, that horrible Pat Fox…I’ll show them. And what of her father, what there?

“Poor daddy…” she continued to voice her thoughts aloud albeit in a fearful murmur. They   won’t put him in prison forever…will they? Her blood ran hot and cold. She almost fainted. Only the sound of a door opening and closing forced her to stay on her feet and turn around. She even managed a smile. “Best mates,” she agreed loudly, almost choking on the words as Nina came towards her, arms outstretched.

Pat Fox’s prediction proved true in so far as the glare of publicity surrounding Ray Bannister’s murder, inquest and funeral then, months later, Nathan Sparrow’s trial and subsequent conviction for manslaughter did Nina’s career no harm at all. April Showers, already scheduled for the axe, took on a new lease of life and its popularity, along with that of its star, leapt in the ratings. Thanks to a new panel of scriptwriters and a talented supporting cast, Nina’s delighted manager was soon able to negotiate a substantial rise in salary. Nina herself bathed in mixed reviews, more concerned with her personal life than her acting ability, and was soon able to afford a luxury apartment in Chelsea. She and Pip moved in, once more under the spotlight of certain tabloids, and Pip took over the day-to-day running of the place as well as remaining at her old school.

Nina was more than happy to let the Nathan’s daughter do much as she pleased and wasn’t ungrateful. She laughingly called Pip her domestic affairs manager and paid her a generous allowance. They enjoyed, or so Nina thought, a warm almost sisterly relationship although, somehow, she never felt completely at ease around the girl. How can I, she’d reason with her conscience at least twice a day? Nathan Sparrow’s seven-year jail sentence hung over them like a heavy cloud; there were times she imagined she only had to reach up, poke a finger, burst it and drown in the ensuing flood.

While Nathan’s persistent refusal to see her continued to cause her pain, Nina settled for making the best of things. All of these considered, she was happy enough, if only for keeping busy and being constantly spotted in the street and pestered for her autograph. This had happened before of course, but only on occasions, never to this extent.  Oh, but how she loved  and hated the attention!

Pip had gone to the cinema with a school friend on the evening Max Cutler first turned up, unannounced and unexpected, at the Chelsea apartment. Nina had never particularly liked the man nor had she set eyes on him since Ray Bannister’s funeral but she was feeling low with a bad cold, awfully bored, and greeted him at the door with a dazzling smile. “Why, Max. How nice! Do come in. Well, well, this is a surprise. I haven’t seen you since…” her voice faltered as it always did whenever anything to do with her ‘situation’ was mentioned.  By thinking of it as such, it helped displace the reality. By avoiding mention of it at all, she was able to put it aside and concentrate on the moment. “What can I offer you to drink?”

Max seemed to sense her feelings and she was grateful to him for that. Apart from a few initial, cursory references to their last meeting, the conversation remained general, chatty, and almost pleasant all evening. Nina found herself more relaxed than she had for some time. Nor, for once, was this entirely down to numerous gin and tonics.

“You look fantastic.”

“Thank you. But you’re a terrible liar, Max darling. I have a rotten cold and I look an absolute mess.”

“You could have fooled me.”

“You certainly know how to cheer a girl up anyway,” she laughed - and started involuntarily. It had been a while since she had laughed spontaneously. In that instant, she warmed to Max Cutler. “So tell me Max, what have you been doing with yourself?”

“While you’ve been making headlines and topping ratings?” he grinned, “Not a lot.”  He hesitated. “To be honest I’ve been something of a recluse since…it all happened. Ray and I were good friends, we go back a long way. I suppose the police grilled you too?” She nodded, sipped her drink and refused to look at him. Max saw he was treading on dangerously thin ice. Reluctant to undermine Nina’s welcome, whose warmth had both flattered and surprised him, he settled for a cheeky grin and forced a chuckle. “But you can’t keep a bad penny down for long. I decided it’s high time I surfaced and got on with my life.”

“Starting with me?” Nina made no attempt to conceal her cynicism.

“Why not…? A man has to start somewhere, why not with a beautiful woman?”

“Are you making a pass at me?” she giggled.

“Do you want me to?” he countered mischievously.

Not really, Nina thought, but avoided saying so. Instead, she contemplated this handsome, charming creep and decided that, yes, he would do, for now at least.

 Throwing herself into work and boring parties was all very well but all work and no play was such a frightfully dull way to live. Besides, Nina smiled inwardly, a girl couldn’t keep going to parties on her own or the damn tabloids would soon get bored too, if they weren’t already. She frowned, fancying she’d noticed a subtle lack of interest in her affairs lately as far as the papers were concerned. The glossies could always be relied on to dredge up a load of eye-catching drivel of course, punctuated by photographs she tirelessly posed for according to the rules of the fame game. Her face lit up. Suddenly, she wanted more than this constant round of bullshit. She loved Nathan Sparrow in spite of what he had done to her, to Pip, to Ray, to all of them. Only, Nathan wasn’t here and Max Cutler was…so…what the heck?

“Did you come here just to chat or to seduce me?” she asked directly and was tickled pink to glimpse the hint of a blush among the designer stubble.

“Do you want me to seduce you?”

He was no less direct than her and Nina was surprised how much she genuinely wanted, suddenly, to sleep with the man.

It seemed ages since she’d had sex. There had been countless opportunities, most of them rejected with polite contempt. Some men she had brought home; with others she had gone, not exactly unwillingly, to their appalling houses or apartments they actually had the gall to believe could impress anyone. Invariably she had been drunk or they had. But she and alcohol were old friends. She had always been able to take more than most and stay on her feet. Whatever, nothing much had happened. Her alter ego had seen to that. What the press chose to make of these occasions was something else of course. Frequently, over black coffees and toast at breakfast, she’d been in fits of near hysterical laughter for reading about this escapade or that with the latest in an interminable line of desirable men. Desirable, was that what she meant? She corrected herself. They had been available, that was all, and she had used them just as they had tried to use her, if not more so. Naturally, she had been subtle if not, exactly, discreet. Wasn’t she, after all, practically a grieving widow? Certainly, she was a dumped fiancée in shock. But she couldn’t be expected to keep up appearances forever, could she?

“You can hardly seduce me while you’re sitting over there and I’m sitting here like a bloody lemon,” she giggled again, “so why don’t we go into the bedroom and you can show me what I’ve been missing?”

Max roared with laughter and Nina joined in. Of one accord they rose, went to each other and embraced, still rocking with laughter even as they kissed.

That was how Pip found them when she returned to what Nina liked to call “home”. Neither heard her enter or noticed her standing in the doorway, a slight, vulnerable figure with the strangest expression on her face. 

Having refused to take time off school to attend Ray Bannister’s funeral, this was the first time Pip had seen Max Cutler since she’d watched him stab his lover in the chest then flee in panic. She had often wondered whether or not he believed he’d killed Ray and what sense, if any, he made of her father’s confession.  Now, here he was, as cool as you please, one foot in Nina’s bed if she, Pip, was any judge of a situation. She coughed politely and was amused to see them spring apart like a pair of school kids caught out sharing a needle behind the bicycle sheds.

“Pip, I didn’t see you there…” cried Nina but quickly regained her composure. “Look who’s dropped in to say hello. You remember Max, of course?”

“Of course,” said Pip with a thin smile, “But I’m off to bed. Have fun you two…” she called and ran upstairs.

Not until she heard the girl’s bedroom door click shut did Nina turn her attention, a trifle self-consciously, back to Max. “We have someone’s blessing at any rate,” she joked but neither laughed.  The spectre of Nathan Sparrow loomed between them and neither quite knew how to be rid of it. “Pip has the right idea,” Nina murmured cryptically, “I’m for bed too. You, darling, can do as you damn well please.”

Max helped himself to another large scotch and sat down in the same armchair Nina had vacated only minutes before. He could still feel her warmth, smell her perfume and taste her kiss on his tongue. She would be a fine catch. He grinned, well aware that he was no minnow himself. Good looks, oodles of charm and his late father’s fortune - even if his mother manipulated the purse strings for now, damn her - saw to it that he enjoyed a lively lifestyle. Well, most of the time. His smug expression clouded over.

He hadn’t meant to kill Ray. Ray was a good bloke, the best, one of the few true friends he’d ever had. If only I hadn’t panicked and ran but called for an ambulance, maybe Ray would still be alive. As for Nathan Sparrow’s confession, it defied belief. Either the man was a crank or…he believed someone else had killed Ray. If so, it had to be Nina. The same idea must have occurred to Nina herself so why hadn’t she spoken up? By all accounts, Sparrow wouldn’t even see her. It was weird, no doubt about that. But it had got him off the hook so why should he concern himself? Hadn’t he wasted enough sleepless nights already, waking up the next morning feeling so bloody awful he’d invariably turn over and spend a similarly sleepless day running through that fatal evening at Ray’s flat in his mind time and time and time again? But he was over all that now...wasn’t he? Sparrow was behind bars. It was time for Max Cutler to do what he did best, grab himself a life. Much as he hated to admit it, he needed someone, anyone, to help him get back on his feet.  Discovering cocaine helped…or had it? Whatever, he needed that too. But not right now. Right now, he was about to rediscover that ancient art to which the likes of Max Cutler were born. Nina bloody Fox, too, if I’m not mistaken.

Nina lay stark naked, on the bed and watched him undress. He shed his clothes like a chameleon slyly changing its colour until he stood before her, a pale god, feasting on her undisguised contempt. “You could use a good tan,” she commented dryly.

He climbed on the bed beside her. “Anyone can get a tan,” he replied with a boyish grin that, despite a faint repulsion for the man, Nina found engaging. “Never trust a ship that sails under false colours.”

“And should I trust you?” she murmured, half teasingly, as his arms closed around her straining body and his mouth descended on hers.

Max said nothing.

To be continued on Monday

Predisposed To Murder - Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“You stupid girl…! What are you trying to do, poison me? You know I take sugar in my tea.”

“Sorry,” muttered Pip Sparrow as she handed the older woman a sugar bowl and abruptly left the table.

“I know you’re fond of the girl, Nina dear, but I really can’t think why. Frankly, she gives me the creeps.” Pip heard Nina’s mother say as she closed the door. She disliked Pat Fox with an intensity that sometimes frightened her. The woman had only been staying a few days and there was already an appalling atmosphere. Nina had managed to take some time off from shooting April Showers so she, Pip, was stuck with the pair of them since school was closed for half term. Nor was it a coincidence, she was certain, that her father had suddenly announced on the very first evening of Pat’s stay that he had important business in Prague and would be leaving first thing in the morning.

Having tried calling several friends and getting no response, Pip decided to visit Sammy. She had become fond of Nina’s cat and, besides, she might even catch Ray or his friend Max Cutler. But what was she thinking? She wasn’t bothered about seeing Ray, she only longed, passionately, for just a glimpse of Max. They had only met once, in passing, when she had accompanied Nina to the flat some weeks earlier. She had been so struck by his good looks, charm, and easy manner she had even dreamed about him on several occasions. This alarmed her. She had never dreamed about a boy in her life before. Even Zack Danvers, the school captain who was invariably the favourite topic of gossip and chat among all the girls, had never dared trespass into her dreams.

Neither Zack nor Max could hold a candle to her father, of course, but that was only to be expected. Her father was perfect and featured in her dreams all the time.

Only once since the fire had she dreamed about her mother or brother and that had been a nightmare. She had awoken, screaming, in her father’s bed. In spite of cuddling up to him, his soothing voice washing over her like a friendly shower, the horror had taken a long time to drain away and let her sleep. Even now, the memory of that horror - she could recall nothing of the nightmare itself - made her want to run and hide. Only, there was no hiding place. It was a sobering thought, and not one upon which she had any inclination to dwell.

It didn’t take long, on a double-decker bus, to reach the flat in Brixton. She knew where Nina kept the front door key so obtaining a copy had posed no problem. Should Nina ever discover she’d visited the flat alone, she would simply say she’d come on impulse to see Sammy and found a window open. Nina would not believe her of course but would almost certainly let the matter drop rather than risk her father finding out that she had no more intention of having the cat put down than selling the flat. A sly smile crossed the girl’s face. She’d have told her father so herself had it not been to her own advantage to keep quiet. Besides, it had to be useful to have a hold of sorts over someone…didn’t it?

Sammy, accustomed to the girl’s visits, neither mewed nor came to investigate but merely opened one eye, saw who it was, chose to ignore her completely and continued snoozing on the kitchen windowsill. Forgetting the old cat was her excuse for being here, Pip raided the fridge for a carton of cranberry juice and a tub of chocolate ice cream. She was tucking in when she noticed the mobile phone on the table and recognized it instantly. It belonged to Nina, who was always misplacing it and had been complaining about not being able to find it for days. Pip picked it up and idly keyed in to see who Nina had been calling recently when sounds above made her start. She could hear people moving about; people, not just one person. Her heart leapt. That meant Ray was at home, possibly Max too since they were mates. Hastily draining her glass and finishing off the last scoop of ice cream, she made her way to the communal hall and upstairs. She heard raised voices, both male. Then everything went very quiet.

For a while she sat on the top stair considering a variety of excuses for knocking on the door. Having finally settled on one she got up and knocked. No one replied but, to her surprise, the door swung slightly ajar. Knowing how security conscious Ray was about Nina’s flat, it seemed odd, to say the least, that he could be so careless about his own.

Intrigued, but only slightly concerned, Pip entered.

The first thing that entered Pip’s head was that Nina’s flat was by far the nicer of the two regarding décor and furnishings. But this one had a sense and smell of masculinity that she found to her liking. She thought she heard noises and tiptoed close to a door on her right. It did not occur to her to call out or, if it did, she dismissed the idea out of hand.  The sure knowledge that she had no right to be there gave her a delicious thrill. Adrenalin coursed her veins and stroked her skin with a sensuality she was loath to surrender.

This door, too, was ajar. Pip peeped inside. Her eyes widened and the adrenalin pumped even faster as, a little frightened but fascinated nonetheless, she observed the sexual antics of two men on the bed. The man on his back, she recognized at once as Ray Bannister. Of the other, his body lifted at an angle, she only had a rear view but commonsense told her it had to be Max Cutler.

She hadn’t realized either man was gay. Nor had she quite grasped that two men could enjoy sex together. Until now, gay sex had meant nothing more or less than juicy playground gossip about a teacher at the school and whether his partner was male or female since no one seemed to know for sure. Whether or not there was any truth in it, the rumour continued to spread and had recently homes in on another male teacher. But this…this was no idle gossip or rumour; this was the real thing.

So, Ray and Max are lovers. Who’d have guessed? Putting aside her own feelings for Max Cutler, Pip continued to watch as the two men huffed and puffed and grunted their way to a climax like two pigs rutting. The image amused her, and she would carry it in her head for years.

Both men cried out almost simultaneously. Cutler collapsed in a heap on his back beside his lover. Both men were sweating profusely. The same male odour of which Pip had caught but a whiff earlier now swamped her nostrils, filled her mouth, made her pulse race. Fairly intoxicated with it, she felt light headed and stumbled slightly against the door, causing it to creak. The sound, barely audible, rampaged through her head like stampede of frightened animals.

“What was that? I thought I heard something…” Cutler sat up and listened, suspicion and alarm written all over the handsome face.

Pip retreated as fast as tiptoeing would allow.

“Why do you always have to spoil things?” Ray Bannister muttered crossly, “Do you have to be so on edge all the time. Anyone would think we were doing something wrong. Are you ashamed of me or what?”

“Don’t start, Ray, I’m not in the mood.”

“But you are, aren’t you, ashamed of us I mean?”

“Of course not...” But even to Pip, the words range hollow.

“So why can’t we tell people about us instead of sneaking around like a couple of crooks in the night?”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon,” Max pointed out.

“You know damn well what I mean so don’t get clever, it doesn’t suit you.”

“No?” Max laughed.

“No,” said Bannister earnestly, “you’re better than that. Why can’t you take life seriously sometimes, me too while you’re about it?”

“I do take you seriously, of course I do, or I wouldn’t be here now would I?” Cutler leaned across and kissed the other man on the mouth but wriggled free when Ray flung his arms around his neck and responded fiercely. “Now who’s spoiling things?” he remarked dryly, leapt out of bed and proceeded, hastily, to get dressed.

Pip wondered what she should do next.  It would be better for everyone, she knew perfectly well, if she were to dismiss what she had seen from her mind, never refer to it again and return immediately to the flat below. She even got as far as the landing and was in the act of closing the door behind her… but couldn’t quite bring herself to shut it.

How could she turn her back on such a cool situation? Hadn’t she seen two men having sex? Wasn’t she now a party to their secret? Didn’t she have a responsibility to…what?  It made no sense to simply walk away and pretend the incident had never happened. This was life in the raw. She hadn’t felt so exhilarated since…the fire.

Briefly, her excitement ebbed. It was as if she had been bathing in brilliant sunshine and a passing cloud had cruelly obliterated her. “Not me, silly, the sun,” she told the shiny door handle before turning it again and re-entering the flat. This time she was about to call out, “Ray?”  But before she could so much as open her mouth, the noise of a toilet being flushed in the bathroom brought with it a mad rush of second thoughts.

She panicked and hid behind a sofa.

Max Cutler emerged from the bathroom just as Ray came out of the bedroom. Both entered the living room without saying a word. Ray flung himself into an armchair while Max sprawled across the sofa. Pip could hear his heavy breathing. It excited her to imagine his hairy chest heaving under a shirt that he might or might not be wearing, she couldn’t see. On balance, it suited her to imagine him naked, just as she had seen him minutes earlier. He had draped one arm across the back of the sofa and she could smell his sweat, almost taste it on her tongue.

At fourteen, Pip often fantasized about sex with a man. But the shadowy figure in her imagination had always closely resembled her father. Now, she considered the prospect of Max Cutler dominating her, riding her just as he had Ray Bannister. Suddenly, she hated Ray. She had never liked him much when they were next-door neighbours but the lively Bannister family were marginally more interesting than the dull Pikes who lived on the other side. She had never been able to see, for the life of her, why her brother Johnny chose Billy Pike for his best friend; the two boys were as different as chalk and cheese.

“Fancy a sandwich?” Ray asked, if only to break the uncomfortable silence. It was always the same after they made love. Max would fret and sulk and it would be left to him to pick up the pieces.

“Not particularly,” Max declared airily, “but if you’re making some, a ham doorstep will do me fine.”

“It shouldn’t be like this Max,” Ray protested.

“Like what?”

“Like you regret what we just did, like you’re ashamed of me.”

“Of course I’m not ashamed of you. Why do you keep saying that? How many times do I have to tell you I…”

“Love me?”

“I suppose…”

“Go on then, say it. Tell me you love me.”

“I shouldn’t have to say it,” retorted Max angrily, “You know damn well how I feel about you.”

“That’s just it, I don’t.”

“For crying out loud, Ray, we’ve just had fantastic sex. What more proof do you need that I have feelings for you?”

“I want us to go public.”

“Oh, change the record, Ray. You know I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Okay, won’t. You know I’m attracted to women. I’ve never made any secret of it. You also know I’m going places. I’ve never made any secret of that either. I know how to give a woman a good time. In return, she can damn well give yours truly due consideration too. Isn’t that fair?  Take Nina, she can pull strings. More importantly, she knows guys who can pull even better strings. She gets her kicks and I get an opportunity to go somewhere, be somebody.”

“So why not just sleep with the guys yourself and be done with it?” hissed Ray scathingly.

“Because, my dear Raymond, you’re the only man for me. I don’t want another man in my life. Women…well, women don’t really count, they’re just a means to an end. But you…you’re special.”

“Does that mean you love me?”

“It means I could murder a ham sandwich.” Max roared with laughter.

Behind the sofa, Pip could feel his whole body shaking. She wanted to laugh too and thrust a fist in her mouth. It wouldn’t do to be caught now. She heard the sound of a door slamming. Given its direction, she could only assume Ray had gone into the kitchen. Max stayed put and, after a short while, began to snore.

It seemed ages before Ray returned. “Wake up, sleepyhead. I’ve made us two ham doorsteps each and a pot of tea.”

“Did you say tea? Who wants bloody tea?” Max took his time replying and yawned after practically each syllable. “I need something stronger than tea and I know just the thing…”

“No Max, you promised. Look, have a doorstep instead…”

“Stuff your f***ing doorsteps and stuff you, you f***ing nerd.”

“You don’t mean that?”

“I just said it, didn’t I?”

“You certainly know how to make a guy feel wanted.”

“Right now, all I want is some coke and if you’ve got any sense you’ll join me.”

“No Max, please. That stuff is dangerous.”

“So is crossing the road.” Max clambered to his feet, “Now, I need the bathroom.”

“You don’t care about anything or anyone, do you, just yourself?”

“Give me strength! Don’t be such a drama queen. Talking of which, you can put that knife down too. You’re not in the kitchen now so you can drop the Delia Smith act.”

“You don’t love me at all, do you? Everything’s just a game to you.”

“Stop fussing and get out of my way. What the…? You’ve nicked my arm, damn you. Come on, Ray, give me the knife before you do some real damage.”

“We’re living in the twenty-first century Max. No one cares who’s sleeping with whom any more. If we tell people, you’ll see I’m right.”

“How many more times do I have to tell you?” Max yelled, “I don’t want people knowing. For a start it’s none of their damn business.”

“And it might get back to mummy…” Ray shouted back and even Pip, who couldn’t see a thing, could tell he was close to tears. “We can’t have that, can we?” he sobbed after a pregnant pause, “Mummy wouldn’t like it would she? Mummy would cut off your allowance. That’s who you’re afraid of, not ‘people’ just mummy. Call yourself a man? You’re pathetic, Max, pathetic!”

“If she didn’t cut off my allowance, she’d cut off my balls for sure,” Max tried to make light of the situation but his voice was strained and sounded curiously guttural to Pip’s keen ear.

“Balls, what balls? You haven’t got any. You’re just a fucking mummy’s boy!” Ray scoffed.

A long pause followed during which the silence became unbearable for Pip and she almost showed herself in an attempt to shatter its suffocating tension. Suddenly, it was as if it had been slashed into pieces by the knife in Ray Bannister’s hand. She listened to the two men fighting for several minutes. It was almost as exhilarating as watching them in bed together. Then one of them gave a long, heartfelt cry before rushing from the room. She heard the flat door slam, heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs, the front door crashing shut then, and only then, someone groaning as if in pain.

The groaning continued.

Curiosity finally getting the better of her nerves, Pip risked peering over the sofa. Ray Bannister was lying on the floor in a pool of blood, eyes closed, a knife stuck in his belly. “Ray?”  She broke cover and rushed to kneel beside the prostrate form that slowly forced open both eyes before attempting to speak.

“Help me,” he whispered, and then closed his eyes again as blood started to trickle from his nose. .

Pip remembered Nina’s mobile phone nestling in her pocket and took it out and started to key 999 with a shaking hand. .Suddenly, she stopped and stared at the phone as if seeing it for the first time.

“Help me, please…” Ray Bannister moaned softly. Pip watched him for several minutes. He neither spoke again nor opened his eyes while continuing to bleed profusely.

The glimmer of an appalling idea brushed Pip’s subconscious, shot forward, skimmed her conscious mind a while and came to rest, a tiny ball of thought in a large, dark, otherwise empty pocket.

She went to the landline phone and called Nina’s work number. A woman answered then put her on hold. It seemed ages before she heard Nina’s voice.

“Pip…?  This had better be good. You know how I hate being called at the studio.”

“I’m at your old flat. I know I shouldn’t, sorry. But never mind that now. I think Sammy’s sick. He’s not moving.  Maybe he’s dead, I don’t know. Can you come right away? Good. How long will it take you…?” She replaced the receiver and its click sounded unnaturally loud. Next, she called her father on Nina’s mobile, careful to hold the phone away from her mouth. “Yes, it’s me, Nina. I’m at my old flat. Can you meet me here as soon as you can?  Something’s happened. I need you to come right away. No, it can’t wait. Yes, it is important, very important, a matter of life and death. Good. How long will it take you…?”

It was as she thought. It would take Nina a good half an hour to arrive and her father at least forty-five minutes. She returned to Ray, knelt beside him, grasped the handle of the carving knife with both hands…and pulled.

If Ray Bannister’s screams sounded deafening to his own ears, all Pip heard was a horrible gurgling sound. His eyes flew open and he recognized the figure leaning over him. “Pip…? Help me, Pip,” he pleaded. Then he saw the knife in her hand, now poised in mid-air, now plunging towards him. “No-oooooooooo!” He screamed each time the blade descended, driven remorselessly into his body only to be pulled out again. In unspeakable agony, he counted three such thrusts before finally closing his eyes and surrendering to the sheer bliss of painlessness.

Pip wiped the handle of the knife clean with a handkerchief, rose unsteadily to her feet and calmly took stock. The blood on her clothes didn’t matter, she decided. There was so much blood that it was only to be expected. But the sticky red stuff on her hands and arms made her feel sick so she helped herself to a glass of vodka from the drinks cabinet. It tasted foul. She pulled a face and spluttered. Even so, the liquid heat did the trick. She soon felt much better. Making her way only a little unsteadily into the kitchen, she went to the sink and washed her hands, and then kept the tap running while letting cold water run over her bare, blood stained  arms. Finally, she returned to the same sofa she had been crouched behind less than ten minutes earlier and sat down. She called her father again twice on Nina’s phone. Calling Nina on the land line was somewhat distasteful since she had to step over the body. “Needs must as the devil drives”, she reminded herself.

“I’m sorry,” a brisk, efficient voice informed her, “Miss Fox has been called away. Can I take a message?” Pip replaced the receiver.

She called the police minutes before she judged Nina would arrive. She would tell them how she had been in the kitchen when she heard Nina and Ray arguing. By the time she had run into the living room Nina was kneeling over him, the carving knife in her hand. Who would disbelieve her? Not her father, certainly. And he would be here soon. He’d see to it that she was all right. Didn’t he always? Besides, it was high time things were as they should be and she had him all to herself again.

The doorbell rang. It was not until she was opening the door that it crossed her mind how unusual it was for Nina to forget her key.

“Pip, what on earth has happened? You’re covered in blood…” Without waiting for an answer, Nathan Sparrow pushed past her and ran into the living room. “Oh, my God…!” He checked for a pulse and found none. Then he saw the knife lying on the floor beside the dead man and, without thinking, picked it up. Pip stood beside him, whimpering. Then they heard a car draw up outside the house. Pip, confused and frightened now, began to cry. It dawned on her only vaguely that she had forgotten to shut the communal front door.

“What’s been going on here then?” asked the young policeman who stood in the doorway.

“Has anyone called for an ambulance?” his female colleague wanted to know.

Pip broke free from father’s protective hands gripping both shoulders, ran into the kitchen and was violently sick.

The body on the floor moved slightly and Ray Bannister’s bloodied mouth uttered a gurgling sound. Nathan Sparrow leaned closer and put an ear to the dying man’s lips.  Barely sixty seconds later he stood up and confronted the police officers grim faced and shaking. His tone, though, remained steady. “I didn’t mean to kill him. But I suppose you’ll have to arrest me…” It was not a question.

To be continued on Friday

Predisposed To Murder - Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“I may be marrying your father, Pip, but that doesn’t mean I’d ever try to take him away from you. You do believe me, don’t you?”

“You couldn’t anyway,” said young Pip with that infuriating smile that always made Nina Fox want to scream; it wasn’t quite a smirk, but might as well have been.

What do I have to do to make you like me? Nina wanted to scream at the girl, but restrained herself. After a year, she still couldn’t work out what made Nathan’s daughter tick. It was not as if the fourteen-year-old was openly hostile towards her. On the face of it, she was all smiles and anxious to please. No one would suspect, even to look at her now, that she harboured any ill feeling towards her father’s new fiancée. So why, Nina asked herself for the umpteenth time, did she always feel so uncomfortable whenever she found herself alone with Pip? In her father’s presence she was a different person altogether. In Nina’s company she was…but the actress had no words to describe how the girl gave her goose pimples and invariably made her wish she was some place else. “I have to collect a few things from the flat later. Perhaps you’d like to come with me?”

She expected Pip to politely refuse, as she usually did, and was somewhat put out when the girl asked, “Will Sammy be there?”

Nina felt her cheeks burning as she nodded, “I expect so.”

“You haven’t had him put down yet then.” It was not a question.

Nina bristled. “Sammy is my cat and my responsibility, no one else’s.” The girl merely shrugged. “I can’t help it if your father is allergic to animal fur can I?  Okay, I promised to have Sammy put down because he’s old and I couldn’t bear to give him away and I will. But in my own good time, alright?”

“Today…? Will you take him to the vet today?”

“I might.” Nina conceded, inwardly seething.

“In that case, I’ll come with you for moral support. I know Daddy would want me to. So when do we leave?”

“In about ten minutes,” said Nina lightly, calling upon all her reserves of patience not to storm out of the room as she left at a steady pace, quietly closed the door behind her and resisted an impulse to scream. Once inside the bedroom she now shared with Nathan, she leaned against the door and muttered a string of oaths. How had Pip found out about the cat, she wondered?  Nathan had been adamant about her getting rid of it while she, Nina, had been equally determined to keep her beloved Sammy. A friend, Ray Bannister, who lived in the upstairs flat, had promised to feed and generally keep an eye on the cat. She took every opportunity to visit whenever she had a spare moment, especially if Nathan happened to be out of town on business. Pip, a very self-contained child, had always chosen to do her own thing on such occasions, preferring to watch TV or a video, play computer games or get on with some homework, a task at which she was particularly diligent.

“She has her father’s brains,” Nathan would joke, “Nothing less than Oxford for my girl.”

Nina, for one, couldn’t wait. Oh, she felt sorry for the child, of course she did. but…“Oh well, what’s the use?” she muttered aloud and crossed to a dressing table where she  told the troubled looking face in a handsome oval mirror, “I’ll just have to make the best of a bad job, as usual.”  She let her gaze wander critically around the room. The décor was not to her taste although there was no denying its antique furnishings were impressive if a trifle incongruous in a small semi-detached house on a nondescript street. But Pip had helped her father choose everything in the house and neither was receptive to any changes she, Nina, felt inclined to propose.

Glad that she had moved in with Nathan, she nevertheless had no intention of staying in this house longer than proved necessary. Once they were married, she had long since decided, they would move. She hated this house, not least because she was prevented from making it hers. It belonged to Nathan and Pip. Their presence was everywhere. Sometimes she felt almost suffocated by their closeness. It bothered her a lot because she loved Nathan Sparrow very much, and this overwhelming antipathy towards the house seemed like a betrayal.  She blamed Pip, without quite knowing why. It was, after all, only natural that father and daughter should be so close, especially given all that had happened. Even so, Pip must learn to take second place in her father’s affections. Nina sighed. While in no doubt that she could win Nathan round to her point of view, she was equally sure that Pip’s co-operation would require some very careful stage managing.

They arrived at the Brixton flat about lunchtime. It was Pip’s first visit. She knew her father was keen for Nina to sell the flat and was hurt that she hadn’t already done so. He saw it as a lack of commitment on her part and she, Pip, had to agree. Nina wants a bolthole, a safeguard in case her relationship with Daddy doesn’t work out as planned.  Pip frowned and kept reassuring herself that it wouldn’t. No way, not if I can help it.

Nina drove them in her own car, not least because Pip was always commenting on the unnecessary expense of her taking taxis everywhere. Pip looked out of the window, saying nothing and observing little of the shabby, cluttered, urban landscape through which they passed. For the first time in ages, the girl’s thoughts returned to the fire. They waited at traffic lights for a woman to cross the road. She was holding a young boy by the hand. Pip watched them reach the pavement. The boy pushed a battered front gate. A few minutes later, the pair entered a semi-detached house whose cracked windowsills and red brick walls exuded poverty. As a dull, badly scratched front door closed behind them, it seemed to smoulder in front of her eyes and burst into flames. Nor did the illusion vanish once Nina drove off.  She was back at the old house; now in the street, watching the fire take hold, now back inside… striking a match and staring, vaguely surprised, at the subsequent flame.

She’d had to do it of course. Her mother and brother were destroying her father with their incessant demands for attention, Johnny especially. Sometimes she adored her brother. Mostly, she hated him. Why? She often asked herself that. The answer, in the end, was always the same. No matter what excuses she found or allowances she tried to make, she could not forgive him for being her mother’s natural child while she…She had to live with the fact that she was adopted. Her father and Johnny were flesh and blood. Her mother…But she didn’t care to think too much about her mother.

She had been on a school trip to the Natural History Museum that fateful day and arrived home bursting to tell her mother and Johnny all about it. Her father was away on business so she would save her extra special memories of the museum for his return. Even so, there had been lots she couldn’t wait to tell, especially about seeing the dinosaurs. She was already chattering away as she entered the living room with her mother and brother only to stop in mid-sentence as something struck her as strange. Something was wrong. For an instant, she couldn’t put her finger on it. Then she saw it, a huge cream coloured leather armchair where her father’s old rocking chair should have been. She turned on her mother, eyes blazing. “Where’s Daddy’s rocking chair?”

“It was practically falling to bits, darling,” her mother had responded with a nervous laugh. “So Johnny and I went out and bought him a new chair. Do you like it?”

“I hate it! Daddy will too. He loved that rocking chair.”

“He’ll love this one even better,” her mother had insisted with a certainty that inflamed young Pip’s anger all the more.

“No he won’t, he’ll hate it. It’s ugly and…horrible!” She went to the chair and lashed out at it with her foot.

“Stop that, Pip. Now you’re being silly!” Jane Sparrow had snapped, and then tried another tack. “Try it darling. It’s so comfortable. Daddy will love it, you’ll see.”

“He won’t,” the child yelled, “He won’t!” and started to cry.

“You’re only jealous because I bought it for him and you didn’t,” said Johnny.

“It’s a present from all of us,” his mother hastily corrected him.

“Where’s the old chair?” Pip wanted to know.

“The delivery men took it away. It was only any good for firewood. I’m just thankful they didn’t charge for getting rid of the wretched thing. It was an eyesore, Pip. Even you can see that, surely?”

“It was a lovely chair. Besides, it belonged to Grandpa and Daddy would never, ever, have wanted to get rid of it. I hate you, I hate you!” she screamed at her mother.

“Now your being silly…” Jane Sparrow protested.

“My Daddy will love the chair,” said Johnny, “He will, he will, he will!”

“What would you know about it?” Pip sneered, “You’re just a silly little boy no one really wants. Mummy and Daddy chose me. You just happened along and no one had any say in it at all, worse luck,” she added malevolently.

“Pip!” her mother exclaimed in horror.

“At least they’re my real parents, not yours,” shouted the boy, “...and my daddy will be glad to see that back of that old rocking chair, he’s always saying so.”

“Children, stop it. Pip, tell Johnny you’re sorry for what you said. You say sorry, too, Johnny.”

“I won’t!” both children cried simultaneously.

“Then you can go to your rooms, the pair of you, and don’t come downstairs until you’re ready to apologize to me and to each other for you appalling behaviour.”

“I’m sorry mummy,” Johnny whined, throwing both arms around his mother’s waist in floods of tears.

Jane Sparrow automatically hugged her blond, blue-eyed son. This was the last straw for Pip who stomped out of the room in high dudgeon, successful fighting off tears of anger, hurt and frustration only until she reached the sanctuary of her bedroom. Nor did she go downstairs for the rest of that evening but nursed a growing rage until she could bear it no longer.

It was late. Her mother would be in bed by now, Johnny too. She had refused to reply to her mother’s tap on the door nor rushed to unlock it as she saw the handle move slowly forward. A piled carpet had drowned the sound of her mother’s footsteps but she imagined them stopping outside Johnny’s room, entering, her mother planting a goodnight kiss on the sleeping child’s cheek. She would never know that Jane Sparrow, still upset after the incident earlier, had been desperate to make her peace with both children, any more than Jane herself would ever know that Johnny had feigned sleep or that Billy Pike, the boy next door, was hiding under his best friend’s bed.

A thirst had come upon young Pip and she tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen with no other intention than getting a drink of water. She turned on the tap, took a cup from a cupboard over the sink and drank.  It was then that she spotted a packet of ten cigarettes and matches on a shelf. “That didn’t last long,” she retorted with reference to her mother’s recently avowed intention to give up smoking. She drained the glass, dropped it in a bowl of soapy water and would have returned to her room. It was then a weird compulsion she neither quite understood nor could resist came over her. She had to stretch to reach the two items on the shelf but finally succeeded.

Matches in one hand, cigarettes in the other, she had stared at them until she could no longer see them, only a monstrous green dragon exhaling billows of smoke and tongues of flame. In terror, she tried to flee the dragon but it followed her into the living room. Suddenly the new armchair that had resulted in such painful exchanges earlier burst into flame. As if hypnotized, she watched the flames rise and spread. At first, she could not hear or feel a thing. It was much like watching a video. Only, there was no pause or stop button available. The fire began noisily fast-forwarding of its own volition. Heat, smoke and a terrible roaring sound brought her back to reality with a sickening lurch of the stomach. She ran to the kitchen door, slammed it shut behind her and laid her whole weight against it. But it was a powerful dragon. Hadn’t she seen it with her own eyes?  She had run into the garden, along the side of the house and into the street. It struck her that she should…what?  Who, in Spencer Street, could tackle a dragon that size and win? Not Mummy or Johnny, that’s for sure.

A huge sense of relief had come over her and she’d felt quite light-headed. Thank goodness Daddy was not in the house. As for her mother and brother, what did she care about them?

She had stood and watched the house burn, scarcely aware of a new cacophony of raised voices, sirens all around her and well-meaning hands gently leading her away from the scene. All she could properly grasp was that the dragon continued to wreak its destruction, a roaring in her ears offset only by a rising exultation that her father was safe and that she was now all he had to look after him.

A sudden jerk on her seat belt returned Pip to the present. Dismissing the dragon as sheer fairy tale, she hid a smile behind the back of her hand and pretended to stifle a sneeze.

“Don’t you dare go down with a cold,” Nina wailed, “The last thing I need at the moment is a bloody cold!”

Both climbed out of the car. Pip was still on the passenger side when a door opened and a tall young man with a mop of auburn curls ran down the steps of a tall building and embraced Nina warmly. They hugged each other, laughing, like old friends. Pip watched in wide-eyed disbelief. There was an unmistakeable air of intimacy about the couple that made her hackles soar. How dare Nina betray her father like this? Worse, these two were carrying on like a pair of reunited lovers, in full view of twitching curtains, with neither a trace of self-consciousness or shame?

Pop had barely recovered from the shock of this revelation when she suffered another of an altogether different kind.  She had emerged from the car now, and could see more clearly. “Ray!” she shouted excitedly, “Ray Bannister!”

“Why, now, if it isn’t little Pip!”  The young man became aware of her presence for the first time, and it was Nina’s turn to watch in astonishment as Pip Sparrow ran to the pavement and flung herself at him.

“I never dreamed Nina’s upstairs neighbour was you!” the girl cried, both arms around Ray Bannister’s neck. She turned accusingly at Nina. “You never told me you knew Ray.”

“You never asked,” Nina retorted with a surge of irrational anger and struggling to regain her composure. She had seen the look in Pip’s eyes before she recognized Ray. Heaven only knew what the girl would report back to Nathan. Report back, though, she certainly would as Pip always did whenever  she and Nathan spent any time together.

Once inside, Nina learned that Ray and Pip had been next-door neighbours at the time of the fire. “You should have told me,” the child kept saying with petulant, almost vicious looks.

“I didn’t know,” was all Nina could say. It was true. On reflection, she realized that she had only ever mentioned Ray’s first name to either Nathan or Pip. There had been no reason for her to do otherwise. Now she fervently wished she had left the spoilt little brat at home.

“My parents still live there,” Ray was telling Pip, “but I bought this place after I left university. An aunt died and left me a packet,” he explained with a grin. “It was a massive stroke of luck, I can tell you, especially as I was broke at the time…” he went on.

Nina left them to it and went in search of Sammy. The cat must have heard or sensed her presence because it appeared on a windowsill as soon as she entered the kitchen, leapt a little unsteadily on to the table and waited to be scooped up in her arms where it lay, purring incessantly. For his age, Nina reminded herself, Sammy was a remarkably active cat still. No way would she entertain the idea of having him put down. Besides, she was convinced that Nathan’s allergy was only an excuse. The way he saw it, she only kept the flat on for Sammy’s sake. It followed therefore, he reasoned, that if she got rid of the damn cat, she would also get rid of the flat. “Well, you can think again Nathan Sparrow,” she murmured, and laid a fond cheek against the moggie’s sleek, well-groomed flank. Later, she must thank Ray again for taking such good care of Sammy.  She looked on the cat as, among other things, a lucky mascot. On the same day a friend had given her the tiny kitten, she had won the part of April Divine in April Showers, her first major TV break. She sighed. The current series had been getting mixed reviews lately. Having slipped disastrously in the ratings, its future was not, to say the least, looking as rosy as everyone had first predicted.

Putting the cat down on its favourite chair, Nina proceeded to look out three mugs, pour some milk Ray had thoughtfully left in the fridge into a small jug and grab a somewhat battered biscuit tin from a wall cupboard before making a pot of tea and carrying it through to the other room on a tray. She loved freshly made tea while Nathan actually preferred tea bags.

“I don’t want tea,” declared Pip scornfully, “You know I prefer juice.”

“There isn’t any so it’s tea or go without,” Nina returned coolly, choosing to ignore Ray’s amused glance.

“Then I’ll have a glass of water instead,” said Pip.

“By all means, help yourself. The kitchen is through there,” Nina pointed the way she had come.

“I will,” returned the girl with a stubborn thrust of the jaw, and left the room.

“I had no idea!” Nina exclaimed, almost apologetically, to her old friend.

“You never talk about Nathan or Pip to me,” he said quietly and she wondered if it was an accusation.

“I come here to get away from all that,” she said without thinking.

“But you’re marrying the guy…” Ray Bannister reminded her.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Nina added, blushing, “I simply meant I have such happy memories of this place and Nathan doesn’t feature in any of them. It’s always been a bolthole for me, away from press, fans, everything and everyone who sees me as fair game.”

“And Nathan Sparrow doesn’t?”

“We love each other.”

“So why do you hang on to the flat if not for insurance?”

“You know why. I can’t throw poor Sammy out on the street. Besides…” She grinned. “…it’s an excuse to see you too.”

“You don’t need an excuse for that and well you know it.” He got up from his chair, crossed to hers, gave her a hug and was planting a kiss on her forehead just as Pip re-entered the room.

“Don’t mind me,” the child said peevishly before resuming her seat then proceeded to deal Sammy, who had leapt on to the chair arm, a hefty push that sent him flying. The cat landed on the floor adroitly enough, albeit mewing furiously.

“How could you?” demanded Nina as she scooped up the distressed animal in her arms.

“I might ask you the same question,” the girl replied cheerfully, treating Nina and Ray Bannister alike to a look that, in spite of a surface child-like blandness, still managed to convey a knowing, almost sinister air. Not for the first time, Nina had to remind herself that Pip was still only a child or she would have taken great pleasure in slapping her. Instead, she chose yet again to grit her teeth and say nothing.

Seeking beyond the girl’s dimpled cheek that would have made most girls look pretty, but didn’t quite manage it in Pip’s case, Nina found what she feared most. In eyes so resembling Nathan Sparrow’s that it seemed barely credible to her that Pip was adopted, she glimpsed and thought she understood the same threat that had hung between them since their very first meeting. True, it was a threat so far left unspoken, but one that both woman and child alike had increasingly if surreptitiously acknowledged to themselves and to each other.

Nina felt her blood run cold.  She had long since given up hoping that she and Pip could ever be bosom friends, but neither had she thought of the child as her enemy. Now it struck her forcibly that she had gravely misjudged young Pip. The girl was dangerous.

Almost at once, Nina pushed the thought aside. What could she possibly have to fear from the girl?  Pip could and probably would continue her efforts to drive a wedge between herself and Nathan.  It’s only to be expected, she and Nathan being so close? But she’s only a child, after all. As for being dangerous...Jealous, yes, but dangerous...? Oh, but I dare say I’m being more than a teeny bit melodramatic.

As if to confirm that last suspicion, Pip flung her a disarming smile. Nina gave an audible sigh of relief. It even crossed her mind that she might yet establish a bond of sorts with Nathan’s strange daughter.

To be continued on Monday