The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1249 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

My mobile rang again: “Hello?”

“Cathy? It’s Jim; they’ve found Tom’s car.”

“Where is it?”

“At Heathrow.”

“Heathrow?”I gasped.

“Yeah, as in airport, West London, any more clues needed?”

“I know where it is; what’s it doing there?”

“Accumulating parking fines at a guess.”

“Okay, smart arse, why is it there?”

“I could say because someone parked it there, but I won’t. People often dump cars in long-stay car parks.”

“Dumped–where’s Tom?”

“I don’t know, but at least he isn’t lying in the back of it with a bullet somewhere important.”

“Oh my God, you’ve got to find him.”

“I’m doing my best.”

“Oh God, I was worried before; now I’m frantic.”

“Look, I’m liaising with the police, they’ve got forensics looking at the car to see if we can learn any more from it. The good news is there isn’t any obvious sign of violence.”

“Meaning?”

“It wasn’t used to transport bodies–leaking blood or other fluids.”

“You’re a great comfort, I don’t think.”

“Cathy, you’re a scientist, I deal with lowlifes, I’m sorry but these things happen even if they do upset your hygienically clean little world.”

“What are the chances you’ll find them alive?”

“I don’t know, evens maybe. The good thing is they don’t appear to be dead yet, so keep on in there.”

“I’m coming back to Portsmouth.”

“When?”

“As soon as I’ve packed.”

“Wouldn’t you be better waiting until tomorrow?”

“No, I won’t sleep anyway.”

“Yeah, but the others might, if you don’t tell them.”

“Okay, I’ll wait until the morning.”

“That’s better, any more news and I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks, Jim, please do–good or bad.”

“Okay.”

I got the kids off to bed and a little later Jenny took me to one side. “C’mon spill it, you’ve been like a cat on hot bricks since that phone call, what’s happened?”

“Okay, we’re going back to Portsmouth in the morning. They’ve found Daddy’s Freelander.”

“Oh good, where?”

“Heathrow airport.”

“Oh, has he fled the country with her?”

“I doubt it, immigration would almost certainly have picked them up.”

“I thought they weren’t being chased, actively at any rate?”

“I don’t know about that, but I suspect if they’d try to leave the country the police would like to ask them why.”

“She could be going to negotiate with her husband’s kidnappers.”

“I doubt it, besides he’s dead.”

“Oh, when did they say that?”

“They didn’t, I just know it.”

“Oh, could you be wrong?”

“Usually not, but I hope so.”

“Oh, so she could be going out to a trap then?”

“Jim isn’t sure she’s fled the country, people often dump cars at such places because it muddies the water, makes the trail harder to follow.”

“I thought all these places had CCTV?”

“They may well do, but it could take hours to find anything from that.”

“So we go back tomorrow?”

“I am, and I’ll have to take the wain with me, I suspect the others will probably want to come too. If they don’t and you wish to stay here, feel free.”

“Nah, I’ll come back with you tomorrow, you’ll need me to drive one of the cars.”

“True, where’s Stella?”

“Gone to bed, she was chatting with Gareth on her mobile, quite racy at times too.”

“Poor Stella, she deserves some happiness.”

“Absolutely,” agreed Jenny.

I went up to bed half an hour later and Stella was reading. I told her we were going home tomorrow and about the car.

“Oh I’ve read about cars being dumped like that–the flies give it away.”

“Give what away?”

“The dead body in the boot.”

“There is no body in the boot.”

“Not this time.”

“What d’you mean, this time?”

“The bad guys didn’t do it this time.”

“Stella, I’m worried sick already–I don’t need nightmares about Daddy being found in the boot of the car.”

“I was just saying–”

“–Yeah, well so am I.” I got into bed and lay back; “I’m going to try and sleep, I’d like to get off as soon as we can tomorrow.”

“You want me to stop reading?”

“Not particularly, but I’d like everyone up earlyish so we can wash the bedding and tidy up before we go back. It’s supposed to be a better day tomorrow.”

“So will I have time to dash into town and get something I saw in Park Street.”

“Is it important?”

“I’d like to get it.”

“Once we get the beds stripped, then I suppose there’s nothing to stop you as long as you don’t take all day.”

“I’ll be quick like a bunny.”

I slapped my head and shook it–sometimes I wondered about her–like, most of the time.

I slept very badly, I kept having dreams about bodies in car boots while Stella snored away beside me. I almost laughed when I heard her–she had the nerve to accuse me of the same thing. Oh well, the Camerons do a good line in hypocrisy, all branches of the family.

At seven, I was awake and up, showered and started waking up the others. Stella of course was the last one up and I almost had to threaten her to get her out of the bed so I could strip and launder the bedding.

While the first lot was washing, I fed tiny wee, Stella grumbled all the time until she went off to Park Street taking Livvie and Julie with her. Trish and I folded the sheets as they came off the line or tumble drier, while Jenny looked after the other children with Danny’s help.

While the laundry had been happening, I also supervised packing and the pile of cases and bags out in the drive grew and grew. One day when I have time I shall write a paper on why your luggage seems bigger on the return trip than it did on the outward one. I know we usually buy the odd thing but really this seemed twice as much. However, it all went in the cars and by lunch time we were all packed and the laundry was all tidied away in the airing cupboard, which is kept on a minimal heat to prevent freezing. In fact the whole house is kept on a minimal heat throughout the winter. Sometimes I think I ought to sell it or let it to at least make it cover its own expenses, but that opens other cans of worms–and it was my home for nearly twenty years.

We had a burger for lunch on the way home courtesy of Stella who refused to say what she’d bought. Apparently the children were sworn to secrecy as well, so having better things to worry about, I ignored it.

The journey back was reasonably straightforward save for the volume of traffic and ubiquitous road works which slowed us down at times. Then we passed an accident and my blood ran cold as we drove past it. I hate passing accidents, even if they’re on the opposite carriageways and never look at them, although someone in front of us obviously did and bashed the car in front of them. That added another ten minutes to the journey time but we still managed to miss the rush hour and just caught the beginnings of the school run, which annoys me–then I thought about it and I was being hypocritical, after all I take my kids to school–but there is little alternative, no buses and it’s too far to walk.