Sentence The Onehundredandsixtyseventh
“All I found, when I checked her Flat, was a scrap torn from a sheet of headed paper, 'e Stables, Road, ig, 7' and I can't think what it means or what's happened to her – I feel as if my emotions have been prancing like a pony doing a capriole and I'm at my wits end,” and Venetia certainly looked it: gone was the gloss of her public persona as the Doyenne of Daytime TV, gone the vaguest shadow of
her mascara, to reveal eyes, normally incandescent and radiant now glazed red and puffy from weeping tears of anguish and despair, gone the alabaster complexion replaced by mottled and tear-stained cheeks and lips, bitten and bloodied; so while Maude held Venetia in a loving embrace, felt the intense coctile heat of a fever and allowed her to cry herself a river, Daphne began, taking things quite gingerly and using only the gentlest of questions: “who is it my dear, who have you lost?” and between the sobs which still heaved her body, Venetia croaked: “my darling cousin, Bernie, Bernice Westwater – and her dear friend and partner, Tammy Shanter!” at which both Ladies gasped in horror – they had read brief snippets about the appalling attack on Miss Westwater in the Passenger Lift at Waverley Station but had not realised that she was the partner of their own niece, Tammy Shanter, only daughter of their cousin Tabby, the littlest of the Wild Bunch that terrorised Melrose and its environs those many years ago in the endless summers of childhood; Maude clasped Venetia closer, showered endearments upon her, and Daphne asked her to explain what had happened; and Venetia related what she was able to remember and had been able to piece together: “well, I got a text from Tammy last night, no the night before last, saying she was going to visit Bernie at The Royal and would call me when she got home, but she didn't and I tried calling her before I fell asleep and again in the morning, but only got her voice-mail – so I popped into the flat yesterday and there was no sign – her coat was gone and a pair of boots, and her phone and bag, otherwise everything seemed quite normal; I rang her mother, you know Tabby don't you? oh, of course, she's your cousin, isn't she? well, Tabby had no idea where Tammy could have gone, and then she called the Hospital and called me straight back – Bernie's gone too! she was in a coma and couldn't have left on her own – that nice WPC Isa Urquhart is checking the Hospital's security systems, CCTV and whatever, it
seems the Officer who was supposed to be guarding my Bernie felt unwell and went to the bathroom, where he apparently passed out and split his head when he fell, they think his coffee had been wdrugged, so by the time he was found and someone checked on Bernie, she had disappeared – and then Tammy vanished too – they've seen pictures of her arriving at the Hospital, going to ITC and then going into a lift with a doctor or something, a man in a white coat, but there's no picture of his face, and that's the last of her – the camera in the lift was broken, is broken, I don't know when, but I gave that darling WPC Urquhart, she's so re-assuring and comforting, I'm sure she sets many a heart a flutter, she does mine anyway, I gave her that scrap, but I have a photo of it in my phone, oh – did I say – there was a heel-print on it, and Isa seemed to think it was quite significant – the print, I mean, she got quite excited about it, said it could be an important lead, I don't know what it means, part of an address I suppose but whose, or where – will the Police be able to trace it?”
“no,” said Daphne, quite firmly, “I don't suppose so, there will be firewalls in place to prevent that, but Maude and I know where it is, or was, and so will Tabby, in fact she probably knows, better than any of us, what went on there and who would be involved; after all, she ran the place for five years!”
“All I found, when I checked her Flat, was a scrap torn from a sheet of headed paper, 'e Stables, Road, ig, 7' and I can't think what it means or what's happened to her – I feel as if my emotions have been prancing like a pony doing a capriole and I'm at my wits end,” and Venetia certainly looked it: gone was the gloss of her public persona as the Doyenne of Daytime TV, gone the vaguest shadow of
her mascara, to reveal eyes, normally incandescent and radiant now glazed red and puffy from weeping tears of anguish and despair, gone the alabaster complexion replaced by mottled and tear-stained cheeks and lips, bitten and bloodied; so while Maude held Venetia in a loving embrace, felt the intense coctile heat of a fever and allowed her to cry herself a river, Daphne began, taking things quite gingerly and using only the gentlest of questions: “who is it my dear, who have you lost?” and between the sobs which still heaved her body, Venetia croaked: “my darling cousin, Bernie, Bernice Westwater – and her dear friend and partner, Tammy Shanter!” at which both Ladies gasped in horror – they had read brief snippets about the appalling attack on Miss Westwater in the Passenger Lift at Waverley Station but had not realised that she was the partner of their own niece, Tammy Shanter, only daughter of their cousin Tabby, the littlest of the Wild Bunch that terrorised Melrose and its environs those many years ago in the endless summers of childhood; Maude clasped Venetia closer, showered endearments upon her, and Daphne asked her to explain what had happened; and Venetia related what she was able to remember and had been able to piece together: “well, I got a text from Tammy last night, no the night before last, saying she was going to visit Bernie at The Royal and would call me when she got home, but she didn't and I tried calling her before I fell asleep and again in the morning, but only got her voice-mail – so I popped into the flat yesterday and there was no sign – her coat was gone and a pair of boots, and her phone and bag, otherwise everything seemed quite normal; I rang her mother, you know Tabby don't you? oh, of course, she's your cousin, isn't she? well, Tabby had no idea where Tammy could have gone, and then she called the Hospital and called me straight back – Bernie's gone too! she was in a coma and couldn't have left on her own – that nice WPC Isa Urquhart is checking the Hospital's security systems, CCTV and whatever, it
seems the Officer who was supposed to be guarding my Bernie felt unwell and went to the bathroom, where he apparently passed out and split his head when he fell, they think his coffee had been wdrugged, so by the time he was found and someone checked on Bernie, she had disappeared – and then Tammy vanished too – they've seen pictures of her arriving at the Hospital, going to ITC and then going into a lift with a doctor or something, a man in a white coat, but there's no picture of his face, and that's the last of her – the camera in the lift was broken, is broken, I don't know when, but I gave that darling WPC Urquhart, she's so re-assuring and comforting, I'm sure she sets many a heart a flutter, she does mine anyway, I gave her that scrap, but I have a photo of it in my phone, oh – did I say – there was a heel-print on it, and Isa seemed to think it was quite significant – the print, I mean, she got quite excited about it, said it could be an important lead, I don't know what it means, part of an address I suppose but whose, or where – will the Police be able to trace it?”
“no,” said Daphne, quite firmly, “I don't suppose so, there will be firewalls in place to prevent that, but Maude and I know where it is, or was, and so will Tabby, in fact she probably knows, better than any of us, what went on there and who would be involved; after all, she ran the place for five years!”
Comments
Post a Comment