Where There's Smoke

“It’s Kate.” There was nothing she wanted to say. “Call me when you get in,” she finished, and was about to hang up when there was a high-pitched squeal as the answerphone was interrupted at the other end.

“Sorry about that,” Lucy said, breathlessly, “We were half-way through tea, so we thought we’d see who it was before we answered.”

“I’ll talk to you later, if you like.”

“No, it’s okay. I want to hear how you went on.”

Now she had called her, Kate felt a reluctance to talk. “I’m having it. The abortion.”

She heard Lucy breathe out, relieved. “It’s for the best, Kate, it really is. How soon can you have it?”

“I don’t know yet. Soon, though.”

“You’ve done the right thing. I know it wasn’t an easy choice, but—”

“Look, Lucy, I–I don’t want to talk about it just now.” The urge to put down the phone was almost overpowering. “I’m sorry, I’ll give you a ring tomorrow.”

“Are you okay? Do you want to come over?”

“No. Thanks, I’ll be fine, I just... I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She hung up. The effort of communication left her shaken, and when she went into the lounge she realised she’d left her sandwich in the hall. She went back out. As she reached it the phone rang. Kate stared at it. It rang again. She waited until the last second before the answerphone cut in, then picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

There was a silence at the other end. She swallowed. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

Still no answer. “For God’s sake, say something!”

“I’m sorry,” was almost whispered. She leaned her forehead on the wall at the sound of his voice. “Kate? A-are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“I phoned before. You w-weren’t in.”

Kate wiped her eyes. “Where are you?” she asked.

He didn’t answer.

“I’ve seen the police,” she told him. She could hear him breathing. “They told me what you did.”

Silence.

“Why? Why did you do it?” she burst out.

“I–I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” The cry was wrung from her. She wanted to hammer the receiver against the wall. “Sorry? I don’t even know what to call you!”

“Kate... p-please. I didn’t m-mean this to happen.”

“You didn’t mean it to happen? What the hell did you think was going to happen?”

“I–I’m sorry, I—”

“Stop fucking saying you’re sorry!”

She stopped. She felt breathless, as though she had run upstairs. In a calmer voice, she asked, “Why did you do it?”

The silence went on for so long she thought he wasn’t going to answer.

“I saw your advert.” His voice sounded wet, as though he was talking through tears. “I was in his waiting room, and there was this m-magazine and it was in it. And then, when I went in to see Dr T-Turner, he had to go out for a few minutes, and I saw his jacket on the back of his chair, so... so I t-took his wallet.”

Kate sank down onto the floor, her back against the wall. “Why, though? I don’t understand.”

She heard him sniff. “I kn-knew you wouldn’t want me But if... if you thought I was somebody else... I didn’t know it was g-going to go on for so long. I thought... I thought you’d n-never know, and that you’d have m-my baby, and look after it, and love it, and — and it’d be like me having a second chance!”

Oh, God. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

“And then I met you, and you told me it would t-take months... and I was glad. You looked so...”

Kate squeezed her eyes shut. Don’t. Please, don’t.

“I just wanted you to like me! I didn’t kn-know it’d go on like it did. I... I kept wanting to tell you, but I couldn’t. I knew you w-wouldn’t want to see me any more... I couldn’t—”

“Is that why you killed Alex Turner?”

It seemed strange, saying the name to him, meaning someone else. He didn’t answer straight away.

“He got the fax.” He spoke softly. “He phoned me and said it was important, and I’d g-got to go round straight after work.”

“After work? The printer’s, you mean, or is this some other career you’ve invented?” She felt ashamed as soon as she’d said it.

He faltered. “The p-printer’s. Kate, I—”

“Just go on.”

She heard him draw a shaky breath. “He was there by himself. When I went in, he just showed me the f-fax and then said, ‘Who’s Kate?’ I–I just couldn’t think. He said he’d thought it’d b-been me who’d taken his wallet, but he hadn’t been certain. B-but when he saw what you’d put about my g-grandmother’s St Christopher, he knew then, because I’d told him all about her and what she’d said about it. And he said, ‘Tim, don’t you think you’d b-better tell me what you’ve done? So I told him, and all the time I k-kept thinking about you being pregnant, and that it was our baby, and — and I felt so happy.”

There was a pause. She could hear him breathing, reliving it. His voice when he continued was low, close to breaking.

“And then when I’d finished, he said, ‘You’ve c-caused quite a mess, haven’t you?’ And then he said it’d got to be sorted out, and he was going to have to t-tell you. I said I’d tell you myself, but he said he c-couldn’t let me, it had gone too far for that. He w-wouldn’t l-listen.”

His stammer had grown worse, like a machine shaking itself apart.