Something Missing (Updated Weekly)

Chapter 16 - Small Mercies

As Aimee disappeared into the queue at the bar, Rita and Heather walked towards a wooden door at the back of the pub. As Rita stepped through she quickly checked her phone to make sure the document was still there.

'Out here, look,' Heather said, as they stepped into a beer garden. The air was chilly and slightly damp. An elderly couple were sitting in a small hut in the garden on the other side of some picnic tables. There was a small bar in the beer garden with very slow service.

'This is my mam and dad,' Heather said, indicating the elderly couple as she sat down in the heated cabin. Rita moved up next to Heather's dad who grinned a gappy smile. His metal walking stick was propped up beside him on the other side to her, and he was nurturing a pint of beer. 'This is Rita, she's come all the way from sunny Spain. When you inviting me and Aimee for a visit, eh?'

'You can come any time. My flat is ready, with no unexpected guests,' Rita grinned.

Heather burst out laughing. 'Remember I told you about Pepelito, Mam? Rita hid him in her flat.'

Heather's mother smiled at Rita. She was a tiny, grey haired woman with glasses. 'That's good of you,' she said in a strong Yorkshire accent. 'About time somebody did summat about animal cruelty. It breaks my heart more than anything else in the world.' She nudged her husband as she drank a herbal tea. 'We would have done it, right, Bob? We would have taken him in.'

'Oh, aye,' Bob muttered, picking at a shared bowl of chips in the middle of the table. 'As long as he didn't eat all our food, he could stay as long as he liked, couldn't he, Trish.'

'They've got bird feeders and a wildlife pond,' Heather grinned, and Rita felt envious. Her little flat didn't have a garden. Where she lived, she could not afford so much space. Aimee was coming back with the drinks, cider and lagers on a tray. Heather muttered 'Squish up,' to Aimee, who perched on the edge of the wooden bench opposite Rita.

'How have things been with you, Rita love,' Heather said when Aimee had been able to properly shove herself onto the bench. 'Where's Dominguez? He promised me a visit.'

'There are cuts in the department,' Rita said. 'Changes to our pensions. A lot of admin staff might get made redundant. And of course, we're both upset about this, Jesús particularly. It's...' she swallowed. She knew Heather, but she didn't know anyone else, so she spoke cautiously. 'Probably a good thing I'm away. It's nice to see you. I'm looking forward to the restaurant.'

'I tell you, I need a good night out,' Heather sighed and took a sip of her lager. 'These last few weeks at work have been horrible. We have a new serial killer, except I'm not officially allowed to call our perp that.'

'Henry Dixon level?' Rita said, her heart sinking.

Heather nodded grimly. 'Yeah. It's bad. And then yesterday some absolute...spanner of a DCI in Sheffield said that it was caused by women in short skirts, even though all our victims bar one are men. We now have to distance ourselves from his comments. It's turned into a story about sexism in the police. It'll run for days and days.' She sighed. 'I've a week off before I start the new job. Small mercies.'

'Is Subeera coming to the meal, Hev?' Aimee said, finishing the last of the chips.

'No, she messaged me this morning. Said she's having problems at work, needs time to herself.' Heather sighed. 'I told her to take some time off and spend it with her family. When her uncle got killed, I said, Subeera please, for the love of God, let them know you want some time off, but she just put pressure on herself to carry on working.' She looked at Rita. 'Have you heard anything?'

'I met her yesterday.' Rita sipped her cider. 'Yeah. She'd probably appreciate a text.'

'I'm going for a fag,' Aimee said, getting up. She squeezed Heather's hand and kissed her on the cheek.

'You're supposed to be giving up,' Heather scoffed. 'Give us a sec, I'll come join you. Then last one for today. Time to be good.'

'When have you ever been good, Hev?' Aimee said fondly. It gave Rita a pang. Seeing these two together, so clearly made for each other, reminded her of how much she missed Alfonso. She took her phone out and sent him a quick text telling him how much she missed him. He hadn't seen her previous one. Hopefully that meant he and Lina were having a good time.

'Do we need to go soon?' Rita asked them. 'It's 7.20.'

Heather shrugged and drained her glass, then clambered away from the wooden bench. 'Eh, we've got time. Just down the road.'

'That poor girl who was murdered in London, Bob,' Heather's mum Trish said to her husband, staring at her phone. Rita noticed that her right hand had a slight tremor. 'There's more on the news. They just found her clothes. Just don't go telling our lass.' She hissed in a stage whisper, 'She's like a dog with a bone, is our Heather. She'll want to investigate.'

Rita smiled, feeling self conscious. 'Yeah.'

Trish finished the rest of her tea and daintily ate the last chip from the shared bowl. 'Here. This article on the BBC says - Erica Scott's clothes were found in a bag by a group of schoolboys on the London Underground. Handed into lost property two days ago but they're only just releasing it to the public.'

'Poor woman. Her poor family.' Bob finished his glass of lager and set it down on the table.

'Did you say Erica Scott? Can you show me, please?' Rita said, a queasy feeling filling her chest.

'Of course, love,' Trish said, passing her phone over. 'How awful. It says the bag also had a knife in it.'

AN: The killer that Heather is investigating here will be featured in my book starring her, 'Fly Away Home'. I'll also have this scene from Heather's POV in that story.