Free Thorn In My Side by Sheila Quigley

every
single word he came across, and frequently spewed them right back
out to anyone who cared to listen and just as frequently to those
who didn’t.
    They were
nearly at Newcastle when Mike’s phone rang. 'Yes, this is Mike,' he
said, then went quiet as his frown got deeper. 'OK,' he replied a
few minutes later, 'I’ll stay on till Berwick… Right, got it.' He
snapped his phone shut and, still frowning, tapped his fingers on
the table.
    Getting Mike’s
attention by doing a little tapping of his own, Smiler raised his
eyebrows in a question.
    'OK, here’s
what we do. Instead of getting off at Newcastle, we’re going on to
Berwick on Tweed… It seems that a young woman’s been found dead in
the flat she shared with her boyfriend, in the middle of town.'
    Smiler
shivered, and said quickly, 'She’s got black hair, Mike. I know she
has… Bet you anything you want to bet. That her hair’s black.'
    'Stop it right
now, Smiler. See, this is what I mean, you go off half- cocked and
there’s what, a one in three or four chances that she’s got black
hair? Now if you said she has pink hair with tartan patches and
silver trim on the ends, and it turns out she has, then I might
start to believe.'
    Smiler shrugged
as Mike went on. 'I have an Aunt May, she lives on Holy Island and
takes lodgers in. I often pop up for the odd weekend. It’s where I
grew up, with Aunt May. Sometime today we’ll get you settled.
That’s if she’s not full up with tourists. Until then you’ll have
to hang around outside the hospital, or wait in the car,
whatever.'
    'I can look
after myself, you know,' Smiler mumbled, staring at the magnificent
coastline as the train headed further north. 'Whatever you might
think.'
    Mike sighed.
'Smiler, it might not have sounded like it, but I really am happy
to see you.'
    This seemed to
please Smiler. Although he brought his head to the front and kept
it down, Mike could see the glimmer of a smile.
    'Are you
really?' Smiler asked quietly.
    And the truth
was, Mike really was glad to see him. Smiler had grown on him like
a second skin , though, he thought, how the hell I’m going to explain him, God only knows.
    He nodded, and
relaxing, Smiler tore the wrapper off his chocolate bar and settled
back in his seat.
    'Oh, one more
question,' Mike said, 'How did you know which train I would be
on?'
    'Rita.'
    'Rita!' Mike
laughed.
    'Apparently she
trawled the whole of London looking for me. She found me at five
o'clock this morning.'
    'Ha, well, it’s
true what they say then, isn’t it… One good turn deserves
another.'
    'Oh yeah,
you’re definitely her hero.'
    'Well, there
you go. Us heroes can’t be picky,' Mike replied, and laughed as he
picked his newspaper up. As he turned to the page he had been
reading, Smiler put his hand on the paper. 'One other thing,
Mike.'
    Mike frowned.
He could tell by Smiler’s tone of voice that he was not going to
like what was coming next. 'Go on.'
    'For the last
few days there’s been what I can only call a countdown number in my
head.'
    'A countdown
number?'
    'Yes… It
started a few days ago, this huge burning number, number five. Then
yesterday number four… And today it changed and jumped to number
three.' He sighed. 'I think it’s a countdown. I think it means you
have three days left.'
    'Three days
left for what?' Mike couldn’t help it – he shivered inside.
Listening to Smiler was like listening to an age-old prophet of
doom.
    'To save a lot
of people. Rita thinks the same.'
    'What…
Rita?'
    Smiler nodded
solemnly. 'Yeah, Rita. She sees things as well.'
    Mike shook his
head. 'God help us all.'

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
    Jill Patterson
stood with her hands on her hips, her lips pursed and her brow
furrowed. She was staring down at the body on her mortuary slab.
She was puzzled, to say the least. Never before had she ever seen
anything like this. Something was nagging at her though, right in
the corner, scrunched up where she couldn’t get hold of it, like
someone’s