Dark Hedges

The Interesting Number

The noise of comings and goings, coupled with telephones ringing and voices cackling, was drowned by the sound of Beyoncé's Lemonade. As she clicked on the keys, writing that silly piece that Jonas asked her to do, Raina counted the words until she reached that promised fifteen hundred mark.

Humming and only paying half-attention to what she was writing, Raina shook her head along with the music. She excelled at the ability to drown the outside, locking herself in her own little world, where nothing happened unless she deemed it necessary. The story she wrote proved unsatisfactory, so she put herself in auto-pilot, letting her fingers do all the work while her head tended to more important matters.

It had been a week since she left the quiet town of Rye and she already missed it. Not the town per se, of course, but rather the vibe, the feeling that invaded her as she chased after the story she knew in her heart lurked in those stony, picturesque streets. It was a sensation she hadn't felt in a long time. Years, actually.

The last time it visited was when she wrote that piece on junior executives trading sex for job opportunities at that prestigious law firm in Manchester. Now, that familiar rush came back and hit her in the most unexpected of ways, like a blizzard in July.

As her feet tapped on the floor, not to the beat of 6 Inch, but to the rhythm of her own jitters, she felt a pat on her shoulder that almost made her heart skip a beat. The only downside to her ability to lock herself in herself was that, when the outside came knocking in, it usually took her by surprise.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," she said, her hand instinctively travelling to her chest, feeling her racing heart. "Tommy, you scared the Bejesus out of me!"

The young man raised his hands and shook them, his round face drawing an apologetic smile. "Sorry Rai, I didn't mean to startle you. Chief wants to see you. He says there's something you should see in his office."

Raina nodded and thanked Tommy with a smile of her own. Putting down her red headphones, she Ctrl+Alt+Shift her laptop and walked over to Jonas's office, her feet dragging. The powerful smell of espresso welcomed her, triggering her morning sickness at one in the afternoon. The room was small and minimal. Only a desk, a couple of chairs, a sofa and a bookcase. Wall decoration was scarce, save for Jonas's Durham University diploma and a photo of him and his wife, Greta. A lonely plant sat at the corner, neglected.

"What's up, chief?" She asked, sitting across from him.

The pudgy, white-haired man spoke, after finishing the contents of his small, shiny espresso cup. "Look for yourself."

He pointed towards the television, where a blonde, overly dressed woman spoke directly to the camera. He turned up the volume and her hoarse voice echoed in the space.

"The woman, identified as Marjorie Colton, was fifty-seven years old and was a retired teacher who lived a quiet life in a small, two-bedroom apartment in Lion Street. Her only son, Asher, died a month ago when the Costcutter where he worked in was mugged, leaving a total of three victims behind, including the nineteen year-old boy. Mrs. Colton's suicide comes as a shock to this peaceful and quiet community, who prays this string of blood and carnage is nearing its end. This has been Ella Atkins, reporting for Channel 4 news."

Jonas muted the television before turning to face her. "Marjorie Colton, that's the woman you questioned a couple of weeks back?"

"How did she do it?" Raina asked, her eyes lost somewhere between Jonas' ficus and the stained window beside it.

"She jumped out of the top floor of her building. Landed straight in the glass table at the lobby." Jonas drew a downward trajectory with his finger, whistling as he did it. "Splat!"