Another Lifetime

He ground the cigarette under
the heel of his boot and leant back against the stone wall. It was almost 5pm;
if this was the right place then he should spot her soon.

In the end she not been hard to find her, but it had taken him two months to
figure it out, he had just called her old house, told the woman who answered
that he was from National Health, needing a forwarding address and just like
that she had given it to him. It was her work address apparently, but that was
good enough. Two months was a long time…

*

He had made it to the house before the police, but not soon enough. Kat had
been curled on the floor of the kitchen, arms protecting her head, body
absorbing the blows that Nick rained down on her, fists and feet, cursing with
each dull thud. She had put up a fight, that was evident, but she lay unmoving
and fear had rushed through him, fear and anger. He had not thought, he had
reacted, shouting, realising that he had left the crowbar in the van and
reaching for the first thing that came to hand, a chair that he shattered
across the other mans face. It had been enough, enough to knock Nick senseless
and that was what the police had found when they had stormed the cottage. One
man unconscious, another cradling a battered woman, both covered by her blood.

There had been many questions, one copper after another had asked this, then
that but remarkably only Nick had gone away. Attempted murder. Peter’s
activities, Nick’s families’ activities, none had come to light. Silence had
protected and instead Peter had been hailed as some sort of hero by the local
force. An odd turn of events, and one that made him feel decidedly
uncomfortable about. There would be no returning to business as usual, every
Plod in the place knew just who he was. It was walking the straight and narrow
for as long as he remained in Midsomer Mallow.

Kat had been in hospital for weeks, fractured bones and internal injuries and
he had visited every day. They had talked a lot. Of who they were and how they had
come to those places. That last day had been the same as any other day before,
he had arrived at the hospital, flowers picked from roadside gardens tucked
under his arm but this time her room had been empty. The head nurse taking him
to one side, telling him that she had left, discharged herself, no there had
been no address details, but she had left him a note, he was Peter Drinkwater
wasn’t he?

A fresh start, she had realised that she did not want to end up dead, begin
anew somewhere else. Thank you for doing what you did. All the best Peter, I
hope that you find peace. Love Kat

And that was that….

Of course he had needed to leave the village, funds running short, too many
people knowing who he was. Time to move on and no reason to stay now. He had
been packing, thinking about where to go when an unusual old woman had arrived
at his door. Sent by the coppers, Kat’s great Aunt Beth, she had been
travelling at the time but the nice policeman had told her all about how young
Peter Drinkwater had saved her great nieces life. Somehow he had accepted the
offer to come work for her, she had needed someone to help around the place. It
had seemed a good solution, new town, new pickings; he had planned to stick
around long enough to build up some cash reserves and then move on. It had been
a bit of a shock to discover just where Beth lived and just how much she paid.
His own little cottage, a tidy little truck, for the first time in his life
honest work was more profitable. He had been tempted to do a bit of breaking
and entering on the side, but Beth had talked of heroic Peter to all her
friends and neighbours and they had accepted him, seemed to like him and he
felt odd contemplating stealing from people that he liked.

So here he was, Peter Drinkwater, former burglar, now gainfully employed, well
for the moment anyway, watching the offices of Jamieson, Williams and Partners.


It was 5.30pm, still no sign of her, time to give up he supposed, he would come
back tomorrow. He was about to turn and slink away when a familiar walk made
him stand up straight.

It was Kat, not the Kat that he had known but definitely her. All dressed up in
business suit and high, high heels, hair smooth and sleek, piled on the top of
her head she made her way down the stairs, out onto the footpath. Quietly he
followed…