Fry (18 page)

“Don’t worry – I…I’ll work something out.”

“Thank you.”

She walks over to the table, where Alicia has once again laid out doughnuts.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve asked Alicia to stop bringing these in – they’re ruining my diet.”

The temptress!

But she takes one regardless and swallows it in three large bites.

I pull out my mobile.

“Holly, I’ve got a problem.”

“Maybe,” Holly says, when I’ve finished explaining. “Maybe, I could go in your place?”

“But you didn’t even go to Camp Windylake!”

“They don’t have to know that,” she laughs. “It’s been such a long time, I doubt anyone will notice.”

“Do you really think it could work?”

“I don’t see why not. I do this kind of thing all time for work.”

“Well, I suppose,” I say.

But I still feel uneasy. 

Sonya sends me home for the afternoon, so I can get some sleep before I come back for the night shift. I arrive back at Robertson’s just as the afternoon shift is streaming out and hide in my car until they are all out the door. According to the roster, Alicia was scheduled to work this afternoon, and I really don’t feel like running into her.

Once I’m sure the coast is clear, I walk inside.

“Oh, there you are!” says Sonya. “I was a bit worried you’d overslept.”

“No, I’m here,” I reassure her. “Let me just go and grab my cardy.”

I head to the staff room and punch in the combination for my locker. The door swings open with a loud creak.

“What on earth?”

I rub my eyes in disbelief, because there, right in front of me, taking up my entire locker, is a huge can of petrol.

Someone’s coming!

I slam the door shut and lean against it just as Sonya walks in. I feel a bead of sweat trickle down my brow as she turns and looks at me.

“Thanks for doing this, Isabel. I really appreciate it.”

She pauses in front of the mirror to check her make-up.

“That’s fine.”

My mind is transfixed with horror. I can feel the huge can of petrol wedged against the closed locker door. If I move so much as an inch from this position, I feel certain it will tumble out and spill its guilty contents all over the staff room floor.

“Isabel?” Sonya has noticed I’m not paying the least bit of attention to her. “Are you OK?”

“Of course I am.” My voice comes out in an unnaturally high pitch.

What the hell am I going to do?

Oh god, I wish she would just leave. I’m amazed she doesn’t smell the petrol fumes.

“Hey, can I borrow some perfume?” she asks.

“Sorry, I haven’t got any.”

“Are you sure?” She eyes me with suspicion. “I thought you kept a bottle in your locker?”

“Er…yeah, I ran out.”

She looks put out. “Couldn’t you just check? I don’t want to go out smelling like old boot.”

I press my back against my locker. There’s no way I’m letting her see inside.

“Sorry, I just had a clear-out. Why don’t you use one of the testers from the cosmetics aisle?”

“I suppose I’ll have to,” she says, a little huffily. She must think I’m holding out on her, but I can’t worry about that now.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, I shove the petrol can further into the locker and lock it again quickly, before anyone else walks in.

How did Alicia know I’d be here tonight? My covering this shift was unscheduled. It wouldn’t have been on the roster.

I walk out onto the shop floor. Whatever I’m going to do about the petrol can, it’ll have to wait until Sonya’s gone. Not that she seems in any particular hurry to leave.

“Can you make sure the rosters are printed out for the morning?” she asks. “I was going to do it earlier, but the printer was getting overheated.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Oh, and another thing, don’t forget to get the baked bean aisle re-stacked. We should be getting a shipment in later tonight.”

“Don’t worry,” I say, in the calmest voice I can muster. “I’ve got it all under control. You go and enjoy your evening.”

“Yes,” she smiles, the perfume incident temporarily forgotten. “I suppose I am worrying for nothing. I know Robertson’s is in safe hands with you.”

Once I’m sure she’s gone, I go back to the staffroom and carefully reopen my locker.  A crazy little part of me is hoping that it’s all been a figment of my imagination, that there isn’t really a massive can of petrol in there after all. But as the door swings back, there is no denying its existence. It has a strong, pungent odour. The cap is loose, the seal broken. I screw it back on, tightly.

What in god’s name am I going to do with it? Pour it down the sink? But I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. This is a lot of petrol. I don’t know what effect it might have. It would reek the place out if nothing else, and I’d still have to get rid of the empty can, somehow.

I long to shove the thing in Alicia’s locker. But I don’t know the combination and even if I did, would I really want to put it back in the hands of a crazed pyromaniac? Instead, I grab a roll of large, reinforced gardening bags from the shop floor.

“Hey, that’s £4.99,” calls out the checkout girl as I walk past.

“Here,” I slap some coins down in front of her.

“This is too much.”

“Keep the change.”

My heart thumps noisily as I pull the can of petrol out of my locker and shove it into the bag. I could not feel more guilty if there were a body in the bag. A body, which I’m about to haul through the store.

I feel like all eyes are on me as I heave my burden out through the shop, but if anybody wonders what I’ve got in the huge sack, they keep it to themselves. I am almost out the door, when the bloody checkout girl waves for my attention again.

“I need the loo.”

“You’ll have to wait a minute.”

“But I’m bursting.”

“I’ll be right back.” 

I drag the bag outside, silently cursing myself for parking so far away from the building. I stagger to my car and dump the petrol can in the boot. Once it’s done, I slump down, exhausted. It is only then that I consider the real significance of the petrol.

What does it mean?

Is this just another of Alicia and Jody’s sick jokes or are they planning a real fire this time? The thought builds and builds in my head. What if they are? Shouldn’t I warn someone? But how can I without incriminating myself? If I go to the police, after everything that’s happened, they’ll either laugh in my face, or else lock me up.

There must be some way to stop them!

I choose the public pay phone at the shabby precinct just behind the store. Three of the phones have been vandalised beyond repair, but luckily, the fourth is working. I pull DS Penney’s business card out of my wallet and check the number. My hand trembles as I dial. I don’t use Penney’s direct line in case he recognises my voice, but even going through the switchboard is nerve wracking. The words tumble from my mouth the moment someone answers:

“I think someone might be planning to start a fire at Robertson’s tonight…”

I hang up before anyone can ask me for my name or address.

“Cigarette?” Jon, the security guard, offers a little later, when I walk outside on my break.

“Um, better not.” 

Even after washing my hands about twelve times, I’m a little nervous there may still be a trace of petrol on them.

“You giving up?”

“Sort of.” I take a sip of my coffee. “So you’re on the night shift now?” I ask, keen to change the subject. “I thought I hadn’t seen you for a while.”

“I switched to nights a few weeks ago,” he tells me. “It’s an easy gig most of the time. Not many customers to deal with, just a few drunks. Although…” he looks out at the road behind the car park.  “I think something’s up tonight.”

“What makes you say that?”

“That’s the third time I’ve seen a police patrol drive through here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and there were a couple of community support officers in here just a minute ago.”

“Maybe they were on their break.”

“Maybe, but I still think something’s up.”

The police presence makes me feel simultaneously nervous and reassured.
Just have to get through the next few hours,
I keep telling myself
. Then this awful night will be over.

“Hey, is your phone ringing?”

“So it is.”

I’d forgotten I’d set it to vibrate.

I glance at the screen. “Holly, how’s it going?”

“You’ll never believe this,” she says, in a low voice, “but I’m outside Jody’s house!”

“You are?” I nearly drop my coffee. “How did you find her?”

“She turned up for the reunion! Turns out, she’s still in contact with one of the other girls who went to the camp.”

“Oh my god! So tell me - what’s she like?”

“Quiet, really quiet. She just sat in the corner all evening, hugging a coke. I’m not really sure why she came. Everyone else seemed to be having a good time, though – they all went on to Archie’s.”

“But Jody wasn’t up for it?”

“No.”

“So, what – you followed her home?”

“That’s what I do, isn’t it? Not that she seems to be doing much. I’m just waiting for the lights to go out, then I’ll probably head home myself. I can always come back, now that I know where she lives. But listen, Isabel. There was another unexpected… development.”

“What?”

“Julio’s ex showed up!”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“His ex-wife, Kate! I couldn’t think where I knew her from at first, I mean, I’ve never actually met her before. But I’ve seen photos, so she looked kind of familiar.”

“Oh god! How did she even find out about the reunion? I was so careful not to say anything.”

“Someone else must have told her. She seemed quite friendly with a couple of the other play leaders. One of them must have invited her. But when Jody walked in, she looked like she’d seen a ghost She’d obviously noticed that she looks just like Alicia. I had to go up and warn her, to make sure she wasn’t going to give the game away.”

“So what did you say?”

“I told her I was a private detective you’d hired. I figured that was close enough to the truth to keep her happy. I warned her to stay away from Jody and said that you’d fill her in on the rest of the details.”

I exhale. “So she didn’t even realise who you are?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Poor Kate. Maybe I should have clued her in about Alicia and Jody before, but I’m not sure she would have believed me, if she hadn’t seen Jody for herself.

As I say goodnight to Holly, another thought occurs to me. If Jody is at home, then that means she’s not here. If only I could check on Alicia’s whereabouts too, but it’s a bit late to be calling the Beach House. I could drop Deacon a text though, couldn’t I? See if he’s awake. He might be. He is a bit of
a night owl.

My fingers move quickly over the touch-pad.

- Are you still up?

The phone beeps instantly with his reply:

- Now I am:)

- Sorry, did I wake you?

- Not really. I was reading. It’s nice to hear from you.

- I was just wondering if Alicia’s still up?

- She’s just gone to bed. Did you want to speak to her?

- No, it’s OK. It can wait till tomorrow.

So Jody and Alicia are both safely at home, I think with satisfaction, and there are only a couple more hours left on the night shift. Maybe there isn’t going to be any trouble tonight, after all.

As an extra precaution, I turn back to Jon, who is still at his post by the door and show him the pictures of Alicia and Jody that I’ve saved to my phone.

“Are they twins or something?” he asks, flicking from one to the next.

“Just sisters, I think,” I say, glancing at my watch. “Look, just ring me immediately if either one of them turns up at the store tonight, OK?”

He raises an eyebrow a little at the request, but doesn’t ask any awkward questions.

* * *

Once I go back inside, things start to get busy. People wander in on their way home from nightclubs, looking for frozen pizzas, sandwiches, drinks and snacks. A handful of shift workers come and do their weekly shop, eager to avoid the crowds. Time passes quickly as I pace through the store, multitasking between the checkouts, shelving staff and the warehouse, where the fresh consignment of baked beans has finally arrived. Then, just as the queues are starting to die down again, one of the new boys waves to get my attention.

“Isabel, call for you in the office.”

“Oh, thanks.”

I walk in and close the door behind me. It’s got to be Sonya, calling to check up on me. I sit down at the computer and pick up the receiver. Might as well get those rosters printed while I take her call.

“Isabel Anderson,” I say, in a tone intended to inspire confidence.

“Hello, Isabel.”

Not Sonya.

“Hello. Who is this?” I glance at the display, but it just reads ‘out of area.’

“I think you know who this is.” Her voice is hoarse and emotionless.

My breath comes fast and ragged.

“Jody?”

“We don’t have much time,” she says, briskly. “If you want to help your friend, you must do as I say.”

“Who…what are you talking about?

“You know very well. That woman you sent to spy on me.”

“You’ve got Holly?” My body jerks to life. “Let me speak to her!”

“There’s no time for that. I was hoping it wasn’t going to come to this, but you’ve given me no choice.”

I feel my panic rising. “What have you done with her?”

With my right hand, I pull out my mobile and force my shaking fingers to bring up Holly’s number.

It rings.

“Hello,” I almost gasp with relief as I hear her voice, but to my dismay, it’s just a prerecorded message.

Oh, why doesn’t she pick up?

Jody is still speaking. “You need to listen very carefully, Isabel. I’m about to give you a set of instructions. If you want to help your friend, you must follow everything to the letter.”

Oh god, please let this be a bad dream.

I listen in dismay as she rattles off her instructions, but struggle to take it all in as my anxiety for Holly mounts. Where is she? What have they done with her?