Part 17 (1/2)

The local news came on the TV. Aninka wasn't interested. It was all too petty for words. Vandalism at a local church, money for a charity, a celebrity grinning like a mask at the camera. b.o.l.l.o.c.ks!' Aninka said aloud, and muted the sound on the TV. She picked up a magazine, leafed through it. Articles on o.r.g.a.s.ms and relations.h.i.+ps. This she did not need. Perhaps there was a film on another TV channel. She threw down the magazine and glanced at the screen. Her body froze.

There was a picture on the screen of a face she knew, an out of focus, bleached image. Serafina. Aninka grabbed the remote and padded up the sound.

If anyone has any information they think might help the police, please call one of the following numbers...'

What?

The piece was finished. Aninka stood up, stared at the TV, energised by a kind of bleak dread. She had to wait until the end of the report for the main headlines to be repeated. There it was. No surprise really. It sickened her it was no surprise. Girl found dead in car park, s.e.xually a.s.saulted. Serafina.

Aninka picked up the phone, dialled Wendy's number without thinking. It was answered almost immediately. Wendy?' Aninka said.

No, I'm sorry, Wendy's not here. Who's calling please?'

There was something about the voice that Aninka didn't like. She put down the phone without saying anything more.

In the bedroom, she dressed quickly, pulling on black trousers, black s.h.i.+rt, a leather jacket, biker boots. She wound up her hair and as she left the flat, picked up a pair of shades from on top of the microwave in the kitchen.

It was getting near rush hour and already traffic filled the streets of the city. Aninka sat fuming in a tail-back. She lit a cigarette and turned on the radio, pus.h.i.+ng b.u.t.tons until she found the local station. Inane music filled the car. Aninka looked at her watch. How long till a news report? The traffic began to move. Aninka edged towards the other side of the city.

Out on the dual carriageway, she put her foot down, flying up the outside lane. Her hands were wet upon the steering wheel. She pulled onto Victoria Heights and parked her car by a row of shops. Here, she went into the newsagents and bought a paper and some cigarettes. Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the shop window, she realised she was too conspicuous in her terrorist's garb. She took off the shades and the leather jacket. Only her height betrayed her now, she thought.

It took her five minutes to walk up the hill to the turning which led to Bronte Close. There was a phone box at the end of the road. Obeying her instincts, the wordless shout of alarm in her guts, Aninka went into the phone box and picked up the phone. She could see all the way down Bronte Close, and as she feared, it was packed with police vehicles. Red and white tape fluttered in the breeze, marking an exclusion zone. Ambulances were there, TV crews. Neighbours were crowding against the tape, ghoulishly craning forwards. Aninka's spine crawled. She feared recognition, pursuit.

As she walked briskly back to her car, she expected a police vehicle to draw up alongside her at any moment. Would you mind answering a few questions?' Her heart was hammering in her chest by the time she nervelessly operated the central locking of her car and swung into the driver's seat. Without pausing, she set off smoothly, trying to appear calm. She was a woman who'd stopped to buy cigarettes and a paper, make a phone call. That was all. Not suspicious at all. Had any of Wendy's neighbours noticed her on the occasions she'd called at Bronte Close? What about friends, relatives, who weren't connected with the magical group? Had any members spoken of knowing Aninka to anyone?

She drove round to Noah's house. His car was parked out front. Weak with relief, Aninka ran up the steps and rang the doorbell. There was no immediate response. She rang again, a long, impatient pressure on the b.u.t.ton. Eventually, the intercom sputtered and Noah said, Yeah?'

It's me,' Aninka answered. Let me in now, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d!'

She heard the locking mechanism churn and opened the door. The long, Victorian hallway was almost in darkness. Noah?' she called.

He came down the wide stairway, belting a bathrobe. What is it?'

Were you asleep?' Aninka gabbled. I've been calling you all day! You might have answered the phone.'

I've been in bed,' Noah answered. What's up?'

I don't suppose you've seen the news?'

She followed him into the kitchen. He looked sleepy, sensual, dragged from a bed of l.u.s.t, no doubt. No.' He took a carton of fresh orange juice from the fridge, swigged from it. Should I have?'

I'm in trouble, Noah. That guy I met, Peverel Othman. He's Anakim. People are dead, hurt. Something terrible's happened...' She felt tears come, despised herself for it. Give me a drink, will you.'

Noah said nothing, but got her a gla.s.s of wine. Have you called home?'

No! Noah, what am I going to do? I'm implicated. I was with him. b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l!' She blinked back tears, wiping her face, drinking wine, scrabbling in her bag for a cigarette.

You'd better tell me about it.' It was typical of Noah to be like this, deadpan, unconcerned. It was one of the things she liked most about him. He never got hysterical, or over-reacted. She followed him into his living room, one of his living rooms.

There, he dragged the story out of her with cold, probing questions. When she'd finished, he put a full bottle of wine down on the coffee table in front of her, and went to the phone.

What are you doing?' Aninka asked, refilling her gla.s.s. She felt better now, drained. She'd pa.s.sed the story on. It didn't feel like hers any more.

What do you think?'

She stood up. You can't! Please don't.'

Ninka, we have to. f.u.c.k Othman, we need to get you out of this mess.' He pushed his hair back behind his free ear, changed his stance. Someone had answered. Hi, it's Noah. Can I speak to Enniel?'

Aninka made a sound and sat down again. She didn't want to hear this conversation, but couldn't force herself to leave the room. Noah spoke quietly, relating the bare facts in a flat tone. Uh huh, I'll tell her. Right. Bye.' He put down the phone.

Well?' Aninka asked.

He shrugged. They'll see to it. Don't worry. You have to go home, talk to Enniel.'

Aninka groaned. Oh great!'

What did you expect?' Noah strolled over to her, sat down in a chair opposite, laced his hands loosely between his knees.

It wasn't my fault,' Aninka said. Stop staring at me like that. Don't judge me, OK?'

I wasn't,' Noah answered. I was just thinking this was all I needed. I was having such a good time.'

Sorry to interrupt.'

Couldn't be helped. I don't mind, really. Do you want to stay here for a couple of days?'

I'd like to. When have I got to see Enniel?'

When you're ready. There's no rush.'

Aninka sighed miserably. I can't believe this is happening!'

Noah stood up, reached out to stroke her hair. Never mind. Perhaps you'd better keep the TV on, see what's happened. Do you mind if I go back upstairs?'

She shook her head. No, I'll be fine.'

Left alone, she sat staring at the TV for a while before she dared turn it on. Halfway through the second Australian soap opera, Noah came back downstairs. He was dressed, his hair wet. He helped himself to one of Aninka's two remaining cigarettes from the packet she'd left on the coffee table. Shyly, two young Goth types followed him into the room, one male, one female. He told them to go to the kitchen and they slunk out.

Noah sat and held Aninka's hand as they watched the local news report. At one point, Aninka said, Turn it off,' but Noah wouldn't. Everyone was dead. Everyone. The house on Bronte Close would go down in history as a place of carnage. The connection had already been made with Serafina. Some piece of evidence must have been with her body when she'd been found earlier that day. Thankfully, the method of killing wasn't revealed. They were just bodies. Bodies removed from a house. Aninka turned away from the footage of covered stretchers being carried into the ambulances. It was impossible to believe that Wendy, Enid and the others were extinguished from life. She found herself wondering what their faces had looked like when they'd been found. It was terrible.

You need more than wine,' Noah said, and offered her pills. Taking these, she slept on the sofa, waking up in the middle of the night, to find Noah and his friends watching a video, a pirate copy of a recently released block-buster. Her mouth felt sour, her head thick. Noah told the girl to make Aninka a sandwich, and the boy went with her to the kitchen. This is my cousin,' Noah told them, as if it mattered. Hadn't they wondered who this strange female was as she'd slept?

He's got to be stopped,' Aninka said. I want to stop him.'

Noah raised an eyebrow. Is that your responsibility? You've reported in. What else can you do?'