Free Fatal Act by Leigh Russell Page A

won’t be back for a while.’
    ‘What’s going on? Where are you taking him?’
    ‘Oh, do shut up, Cheryl. Do what you’re told – that’s never been a problem before, has it? Just bugger off, there’s a good girl.’ He turned to Geraldine, his composure restored. ‘I don’t want to leave her running riot in my house while I’m away.’
    ‘Nice to see you trust your sister,’ Geraldine said.

Chapter 12
    B ETHANY STUDIED HER FACE critically in the bathroom mirror. Not only was the surface of the mirror pitted and cloudy, but the light bulb above it had gone that morning so her face was only dimly lit from behind. It wasn’t good enough, not today. She took her free standing mirror through to the living room and resumed her self-scrutiny in the daylight. Her older sister, who was only twenty-eight, already had a few grey hairs. The thought gave Bethany goose bumps. So far she’d had no problems, not on that score at least.
    ‘I’m so going to dye my hair if I ever go grey,’ she had told her sister. ‘The very first grey hair I spot, that’ll be it.’
    ‘It’s different for you. You have to take care of your appearance. You can’t afford to look past it, not yet anyway.’
    W hat her sister had said was true. Bethany wasn’t naïve enough to believe that talent alone had got her this far. It had been a long struggle to get herself noticed as an actress, but at last she was through to the final audition for a role that would change her life – if she was cast.
    ‘Next time I see you,’ she whispered to her reflection, ‘I’ll be a star. A household name.’
    Fluttering her eyelashes, she gave an alluring pout. She had always had faith in herself and it had worked so far – at least in her professional life. She had chosen her outfit with care: smart tight fitting black jeans and a short tailored jacket that showed off her trim figure. At her throat she wore a neat glass pendant suspended on a leather thong that Piers had given her. It had to be lucky, wearing a gift from a prominent casting director to an audition. With a final touch of eye make-up, she grabbed her coat and left.
    A s the gate swung closed behind her, she noticed a figure in a grey hood and sunglasses standing perfectly still on the opposite pavement. She wondered fleetingly why anyone would be wearing sunglasses on an overcast winter’s day, as she worked out that she would arrive at least an hour early. All the same, she hurried along the street to the station and trotted down the stairs to the platform. It was as well to allow plenty of time for the journey. The trains could be unreliable. It was possible to work around planned engineering work, but there might be a points failure or an unexplained hold up, sometimes a person on the track. Bethany had once gone out with a train driver. Even after three months paid leave and counselling, he had never fully recovered from seeing a woman throw herself in front of his train. Bethany had agreed it was selfish to commit suicide in front of a stranger. Privately she thought that, in the unlikely event of her ever deciding to kill herself, she would definitely want an audience.
    T here were quite a few people waiting on the platform. Faces stared gloomily at the track, as if everyone was contemplating hurling themselves in front of the next train. Glancing round, Bethany was surprised to recognise the grey-hooded figure she had spotted on the pavement opposite her flat. Closer to the figure now, she could see the stranger was a woman. Beneath her hood she had blonde hair. Although she stood with hunched shoulders, the woman was still taller than many of her fellow travellers. As a drama graduate Bethany had been trained to be observant. She was almost positive it was the same person, in a grey hoodie and sunglasses. It was difficult to be sure behind the dark lenses, but again she had the impression the stranger was watching her. She cast the thought aside. It was just the audition