Page 75 of The Tapes
It’s gloomy, though not quite dark and, as my eyes adjust, I realise I’m attached to some sort of railing. It seems like the sort used to pen in livestock, though it’s hard to know.
‘I didn’t expect this…’
A woman’s voice whispers through the dark. I twist against the railing, blinking away the stars as I realise a shadow is sitting on a chair a couple of metres away.
‘I knew something was up when you said you’d been thinking about your mum…’
‘Nic…?’
There’s no reply, not at first. The shadow shuffles a fraction, their feet tapping on the hard floor.
‘Where am I?’ I ask.
‘Don’t worry about that,’ she replies. ‘Who else did you tell about the tape?’
‘Nic…?’
This time, she moves, pushing up and out of a chair and stepping towards me, then crouching at my side.
Nicola is grey in the dim light, her hair tied into the tightest of ponytails, stretching her skin.
‘You told that idiot at your work,’ she hisses.
I sense her more than I see her. It must’ve been Nicola who hit me over the head at the storage units. I wonder where my car is, where the jewellery box has gone, whether she found the tape in my bag. I can’t process what’s going on. I tasered Nicola’s father back at the storage unit and now…
‘Did you kill him?’ I ask.
‘Well we didn’t find the tape at his, that’s for sure.’
Nicola stands and shifts away from me, returning to the chair. We’ve always had an odd friendship that only really existed because of our daughters. Our parents sort of knew each other but we weren’t mates at school. After her dad helped get me off those police charges, we shared a bond that was difficult to quantify.
More than acquaintances, not quite friends.
‘Does “we” mean you and your dad?’ I ask.
There’s a long, long pause, broken only by the gentletink-tink-tinkof me wriggling against the metal bars. I can’t get comfortable.
‘I got a flat tyre one evening when I was on my way home,’ Nicola says. ‘This was before Mum and Dad downsized, before this was my place. I stopped by because I thought Dad could help with the wheel. I didn’t know Mum was at the theatre with her sister. No one was home but there was a light in the shed. I cameback here – and that was the first time I knew the name Pamela Mallory…’
The gasp that comes from me is involuntary. I spent the morning with Vivian, talking about Pamela. Nicola speaks so casually now, as if that young woman wasn’t somebody’s daughter.
‘What did you do?’ I ask.
‘What do you mean?’
‘What did you do to Pamela?’
I can hear Nicola breathing and then: ‘Nothing.’
‘What about your dad?’
I jump as a floorboard creaks. Deep in the corner, a second shadow moves as I realise it wasn’t Nicola’s breathing I could hear.
‘That taser really packs a punch,’ Kieron says, and there’s a surprising croak that undermines his usual assuredness. ‘I neveraskedyou to get involved,’ he adds. I’m momentarily confused but then I realise the second part of the sentence wasn’t for me.
‘You’d have been caught without me,’ Nicola replies.
‘Don’t be silly.’ Kieron’s response to his daughter is snapped and sharp.
