Free Dark Spaces by Helen Black Page B

right,’ he said. ‘Some suicide victims die with a note in their hand.’
    It happened often actually. The dead clutched their last words to their heart, as if to emphasize their importance.
    ‘Okay then,’ she said.
    Jack wondered if he should warn her about the smell. At the moment of passing, a body released more than its spirit. He decided against it, what with her being a nurse.
    Gently, he took hold of the duvet and peeled it backwards, revealing the tombstone pallor of Lydia’s skin. Her shoulders so white they were almost blue.
    ‘She was a very beautiful girl,’ said the nurse.
    Jack could see that must have been true. Even now, with her life force drained, she drew his eyes in. Like an exquisite statue. As he uncovered the rest of her upper torso, they discovered her naked breasts, partially hidden by crossed arms.
    The nurse gasped. ‘She looks like an angel.’
    Jack nodded. The girl did look angelic, but there was no note in either hand.
    ‘Let’s just check down by her sides, then we’ll leave her be,’ he said.
    He rolled back the duvet to the top of Lydia’s pubis and stopped in his tracks. The room seemed to tilt and he had to clutch the fabric so as not to drop it. Neither he nor the nurse breathed. Open-mouthed, they looked at one another in horror.
    Suddenly there came a sound at the door. A good-looking man in his mid-forties breezed in. ‘Sorry I wasn’t here to meet you, officer.’ He extended a hand towards Jack. ‘I’m sure Georgia here has taken good care of you.’
    ‘Could you stay where you are, sir,’ said Jack.
    The man pursed his brow. Clearly more used to giving the orders around here. ‘Is there problem?’ he asked Jack.
    Jack looked back at Lydia, where there was a very big problem indeed.
     
    When Lilly collected Alice from nursery and headed home, David was already there. Her face must have told a thousand words.
    ‘Rough day?’
    Lilly let a stream of air reverberate across her lips. ‘You could say that.’
    ‘Want to talk about it?’ David asked.
    Lilly wrinkled her nose so David ushered her through to the kitchen, switched on the kettle and dropped a four-finger KitKat into her lap.
    ‘I’ll make supper,’ he told her and buried his head in the fridge, raking through the vegetable tray at the bottom.
    ‘No salad, please,’ Lilly begged.
    ‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’
    Lilly sipped a cup of Earl Grey and watched him chop mushrooms, peppers and cabbage.
    ‘Got any soy sauce?’ he asked.
    Lilly leaned her chair back on two legs, as she was forever telling Sam not to do, and reached into the cupboard for the bottle.
    ‘Have you spoken to Cara today?’
    David poured a generous glug of sauce over the sizzling vegetables. A cloud of salty steam hit the air.
    ‘I sent her a text this morning.’
    ‘Saying what?’ Lilly asked.
    ‘Saying I’d like to see Flora.’
    Deftly, he tossed the pan, the ingredients dancing in the air, before falling back into the heat.
    ‘And what did she say?’ Lilly asked.
    ‘She said I should get my stuff by tomorrow or she’s taking it to the tip.’
    Lilly hid a smile. Cara was used to getting her own way. ‘So what are you going to do?’
    David threw a handful of noodles into the mixture and Lilly’s stomach growled. She really fancied stodge. A nice chicken pie. With mash.
    ‘Find a flat.’ He gave a sneaky grin. ‘Find a good solicitor.’
    Lilly rolled her eyes. ‘This is serious, David.’
    ‘I know, I know. I’ll go over there first thing and collect my stuff, then I’ll find somewhere to stay.’
    ‘And tonight?’
    David turned back to his cooking. ‘I wondered if I could crash here again.’
    Lilly rolled her eyes again. His bashful routine was a bit ridiculous considering he was already here. She was about to tell him so when the doorbell rang.
    ‘I’ll go.’ David almost ran out of the kitchen, presumably glad to avoid further discussion. When he returned, Jack was in tow.
    ‘I explained that