A stoolby a small corner table was my destination.
“Back in a jiff, love.”
With awell-worn oven glove she took a plate and filled it with variousthings from the oven and the saucepans came back and set it downnext to me. Then she went and got a knife and fork and somered-coloured drink. I set-to with gusto as she pottered aroundstirring the saucepans and generally doing kitchen things. If sheand Mrs Miggins weren’t related then I was a monkey’suncle.
I knewwhat she wanted – my story. But she was polite enough to wait andfeed me first.
With myplate empty and stomach full I nursed the strawberry drink in myhands and opened my mouth to begin.
“It’s a man,” Mrs Morris quickly said, interruptingme.
“Wha–?” I began, totally thrown.
“Young girls always come alone to Southend because of aman.”
“No.”
But shenodded with absolute certainty, “Every single time.”
Admittedly there was a man - the one that warned me offlooking for Katherine. But apart from that, no. Just,no.
“And they always end up the same way.” Her face fell at thememory and her small hand patted my arm in a motherlyway.
“Really?”
“They walk along the pier and are never seenagain.”
I didn’tknow what to say about that. Was there a police investigation intoit? Did they jump off, or somehow catch a ship at theend?
Shelooked into my face like a constipated chicken and gripped my armas if trying to force her will into me, “Please go home and forgethim.”
I had a slight loop-hole in that it wasn’t ahim she wanted me toforget. But was there a link between the place Katherine was lastseen and the pier? With the only clue I had gone it sounded likethe pier was a place worth investigating.
“Thank you for a lovely meal. I’d best get on now.”
“Please don’t go to the pier.”
“Be assured I shall merely look at it from adistance.”
Slightlymollified by my answer she let my arm go and took my plate as Iturned to leave.
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Seven
TheThames looked like dark, rippling grey silk under the rain-heavyclouds. The pier stretched before me and merged into the far shoremaking it look like a thin, black bridge. Gas lights at far enoughintervals to have shadows between them lit the boardwalk. A coldwind had sprung up and mournfully whistled between the woodenboards.
A moreinconducive place to visit I had yet to imagine.
The fewsightseers brave enough to visit it today were on their way back,probably deciding that their warm homes were a far pleasanter placeto visit.
I metthe wrinkled face of the uniformed bewhiskered gent manning theticket booth and felt warm air flowing under the glass from him. Inoticed he had a small stove upon which he was warming a smallteapot.
“Just the one, Miss?”
“Yes.”
“Nasty day.”
“Certainly looks it.”
Moneyand tickets were exchanged and I caught a sad look from him as Iwalked away raising my umbrella. He and Mrs Morris seemed to be ofone mind concerning young, single girls and Southendpier.
I hadn’tlied to Mrs Morris: I was going to look at the pier at a distance -the distance of less than six feet.
The cold wind found its way under my dress and I set off at abrisk pace, my walking boots providing a percussion to my chantingthought – ‘I will find her, I will find her.’
Out overthe dark water the wind had free rein and my dress blew about mylegs. I held my umbrella tight mitigating the worst of its forceagainst my head and torso.
Thebuildings at the end couldn’t come soon enough.
Glancingback I saw I was the only person on the pier.
As Iwalked the clouds above grew so black it seemed like I was inside amonstrous creature’s mouth, the Thames below, its wettongue.
“I will findher. I will findher.”
Irealised I was now verbally chanting as if trying to ward off somedark evil.
How farhad I come? I looked back and saw the gas lights stretch into thedistance behind me. Was I near to the buildings at the pier’s end?I turned back and cried out in surprise, finding myself face toface with the stranger on the train.
Hegrabbed my arm and I kicked him in the shin. With a cry he droppedto the floor but didn’t let my arm go. Another kick found its waybetween his legs and this time he did let go.
I turnedand began running back to the shore, my boots loud on the woodenboards, my heart racing.
Realising my umbrella was still open I closed it as best Icould, if necessary ready to use it to fend him off and to savemyself.
Slowly Ibecame aware of the sound of boots running behind me, and adissonant vibration through my own feet. He was comingcloser.
Theshore was far too far away. I’d never make it to it before he gotto me. Anger grew in me at what he’d done – threatened me, grabbedme, and now he was chasing me!
Purpleflame flared in me and I stopped and turned with snarl, holding theumbrella up with both hands.
His eyeswidened with surprise as he ran into me, bowling us both over. In aflurry of arms and legs my head hit the wooden boards andeverything went black.
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Eight
Astrange smell tickled my nostrils and I sneezed, which set off astab of pain on the right side of my head. I grit my teeth, hissingagainst the pain and slowly opened my eyes. It seemed that SirPercival’s tonic was still working as I saw a mess of ghostlypurple images in the blackness around me. Slowly my blurreddouble-vision resolved into something more useful and I saw a roundtable in front of me with a sphere and a dome next to each other inthe middle. At the same time I realised my arms were tightly boundagainst my body and that I was tied to a chair. Although not a verynice thing to have
