He saw them flash by in a blur of pale flesh. A moment later, the shower started. Again, he went to his phone and tapped through to the camera view. The bedroom was empty. Good, he thought. That meant they were at it in the bathroom. He opened the wardrobe door with care. A smart guy would leg it. But he wanted his tool bag.
Cole crept into the bedroom and gathered his bag. Then he slipped down into the hall. As he quietly closed the front door, he guessed Flanagan would be too occupied to notice the tool bag had disappeared from the bedroom.
Cole grinned. When he had put some distance between himself and the house, he stopped and opened the phone app to view the camera he had just installed in the bedroom. It now had a great view of naked little hottie Hannah lying on the bed. She spread her legs and pushed Flanagan’s head between them. Cole’s whistling grew louder as he watched Flanagan deliver on his promise. A few minutes later, he saw Flanagan with his hands around Hannah’s throat, humping for England and choking the bitch while her nails raked down his back. Way to go Flanagan. Get in there.
Then Cole wondered whether Flanagan had any money. Shagging on a client’s bed and using their shower would be a sackable offence. Flanagan must get off on the extra excitement. Hey Mark? Can I interest you in buying a video?
48
Alice hesitated outside the Centre for Cancer and Health on Nørre Allé. Old fears and anxieties surfaced and made her question the decision to see her mother after so many years of strained distance. It would be easy to turn around and go elsewhere, but she needed to stop hiding from problems, so she sighed and kept going.
Inside the hospital, she followed the directions from reception to her mother’s room with reluctant feet. It would have been good to have Connie by her side, encouraging her, supporting her and enabling a sudden change in relationship from subordinate child to equivalent adult.
Then she remembered something Connie had told her, that there comes a time in most lives when people must do something for themselves and rely on their own resources. Many times they realise they were capable all along and that it was only fear that held them back. Now, as Alice thought of Connie’s advice, she upped her pace and lifted her head higher.
At first, she thought she had the wrong room. The woman shrivelled in the bed had a gaunt and yellowing face beneath an oxygen mask. When the woman turned to Alice, she blinked several times and removed the mask. The motion was slow, as if it took great effort and care to avoid pulling on the tube connected to her arm. The woman blinked again, and the hint of a smile crossed her thin lips.
“Mama?”
Her mother reached out a frail hand and Alice took it. The hand was cold, the skin wrinkled and blotched. “Alice. Alice. I’m so glad you came.” Alice pulled over a chair with her free hand and leaned in closer. Her mother’s voice was low and raspy, but she looked into Alice’s eyes as if a little of her fierce determination remained.
“How are…Sorry. That’s a stupid question. Sorry.”
Her mother squeezed Alice’s hand, but the touch was light. “No, Alice. I’m sorry.” She wheezed and with her other hand, she put the mask to her face for several breaths, then spoke again. “I can’t talk for long. It hurts. But I’ve been waiting to say sorry for a while. But I should have said it sooner, before this… this cancer.”
“It’s okay mama. We don't have to…”
She shook her head a little and waved the oxygen mask. “I didn't believe you. You were such a drama queen when you were young. Always looking for attention. I was…” She rasped and took more oxygen. “…wrong. I was wrong, Alice.”
“About what?”
“You know what I mean. I knew Thorsten’s father, you see. We were close.” She looked away from Alice and stared at the ceiling. “Closer than we should have been. He helped with things. Money mostly.” She coughed once, then several times in quick succession.
“Why? What do you mean?” Alice looked into her mother’s eyes, but her mother didn't return the gaze.
“It doesn't matter anymore.” She took her hand from Alice and groped at a box of tissues. Alice went to help her, but her mother brushed her away. “He’s dead now. I think.” She wiped her mouth with a tissue and coughed again.
Alice brushed her hair back from her forehead. “What about Thorsten?”
“I don’t know. I lost contact with them soon after.” Her voice went low and she rasped more. “Things… they said things.”
“What things?”
She turned to Alice and looked into her eyes. “Just things. It’s too late for that now, but maybe it’s not too late for us?”
“And Thorsten’s friend? Jesper? What about him, mama?”
“I don't know him.”
Alice tightened her lips and dug her fingers into her thigh. “You put another family ahead of your own.”
Her mother turned her head as if she couldn't bear to see the pain in Alice’s face. “I thought I did the right thing.”
“How could you think that?”
“I have no answer.”
“Do you believe me now?”
Her mother moved her head as if to nod, but she coughed, and her body spasmed. She sucked on the mask and coughed into it. In between coughing fits, she wiped her mouth again. She covered the tissue with her hand and reached out to Alice. The tissue dropped from her weak grip, and it fell to the ground beside the bed.
Alice bent over to pick it up, but when she saw the blood stains, she left it where it was and pulled a fresh tissue from
