or extreme – violent – has happened there, it leaves a residue which some people pick up. Not everyone of course. But some can pick up on it. Or at least some have the latent ability to pick up on it, depending on how they are feeling and their emotional state at the time. Everyone has some spooky story to tell or knows someone who has “seen” something.’
Felix nodded, thinking the idea through. ‘So you’re saying that you think what you heard and saw could be that? A memory of what happened?’
I squeaked out a disapproving snicker. ‘I’m not saying anything of the sort, indeed. That was one of the paranormal society’s explanations.’
‘I’m sure our readers wouldn’t mind a little bit of paranormal hypothesis.’
He grinned.
That was a turn-up for the books, so to speak. I always assumed with non-fiction you had to write just that. But I wanted to please him too. ‘I’ll certainly mention the prison and the gaol and try to evoke what it was like for the women in there.’
‘Very glad to hear it,’ Felix sniffed.
I breathed in and smelt the reassuring whiff of home-cooked sausages, something garlicky, beer and the smoke from the nearby fireplace. ‘I hope the food comes soon. I’m starvin’.’
This time he gave me an open-mouthed smile, treating me to a good view of white teeth, set into that super-strong jaw.
‘So,’ he said and yawned, sinking back into his armchair. ‘Is this a good time to ask you about how the writing’s going?’
‘Oh yes,’ I said and brought the folder out of my bag. ‘I’ve some notes and questions here.’
When we’d finished up, Felix paid the bill. I promised to send him a rough chapter by the end of the week. It wouldn’t be a problem; I’d already started that section. And I wanted him to come back to me with feedback. Actually I just wanted more contact.
Outside on the pavement we stood a metre apart. I wondered for a brief second if he was going to snog me. He had a wild look in his eyes. But then again, maybe it was the flush of whisky. Whatever, he didn’t make a move.
He did, however, offer to walk me back to my car, but I declined.
We kissed, a sort of business-like peck on the cheek, and went our separate ways.
Halfway down the street I had a quick squizz to see if he was watching me, but he wasn’t. His determined figure strode swiftly up the hill and turned right out of view.
I was full of our meeting as I wandered down to the car park. Thinking about the look in Felix’s eyes, the glimmer of triumph, his magnetic, almost bestial, leer that I had caught under the streetlights. On one hand, it felt as though he was reeling me in, sending little signals of seduction. Yet on the other hand, he was staying professional, pushing me away. Mind you, that thing with the pipe had dampened my ardour somewhat. Shame really as he was a pretty decent catch. An unusual man. Complex.
I would have thought on it more but as I approached the NCP an unwelcome dread began to prick at me.
It was dark now and, as I climbed the concrete stairway, one of the fluorescent lights spluttered, sending shadows crawling across the floor, setting my nerves on edge. Disorientated by the flashing light, a small black moth kamikazed off the fitting and straight into my face.
I brushed it off.
God, I hated car parks. They were meant to be safe, but at night, when you were on your own, they felt far from reassuring. And there was a cold similarity to the cells, which brought back that godawful incident.
I hurried up the steps and turned the corner too quickly, finding myself face to face with a bundle of rags. I steadied up. This present landing was darker than the rest. The light had been smashed. I went to tear up the next set of steps, but the pile of rubbish moved. Out of the depths of rags and litter a face emerged. It was dirty and soiled. The eyes glared – narrow, rigid, angry.
‘You woke me,’ he spluttered, cross and indignant.
Through the gloom I could perceive the ragged, baggy jowls of an elderly tramp, camouflaged with lengths of grey curly beard. My nose was overwhelmed by the stench of alcohol, unwashed linen, urine and other bodily emissions.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘You gave me a fright.’
The face atop the heap fixed me with a