Lucy & Eve

By sandra baldry

Burying a body was a bonding experience for Lucy and Eve. Keeping it secret could tear them apart.

Forced out of her home by a fire, Lucy stumbled into Eve life. Her mother, an alcoholic, Lucy, could deal with. What was harder, Eve involving her in a robbery, bar fights and then there was the whole bury a body thing. The problem was, he wouldn't stay buried, and to top it all, the cat died. What else could possibly go wrong?

• Language: English
• Publisher: sandra baldry
• Release date: Feb 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393948445

Book preview

Lucy and Eve

By Sandie Baldry

1

On the third buzz, Lucy knew whoever it was at the flat's entrance wasn't going away. 

'Who is it?' Lucy's jaw clenched as she waited for a reply, pulled from her laptop while working remotely with a client. If it were Eve, she'd get an earful. After all, hadn't she made it clear she didn't like unexpected visitors? But hey, the woman lived in a whisky bottle. Did she think it would make any difference? 

'Is that Lucy?' came a male voice with a heavy Suffolk twang.

'Yes.' 

Not Eve. 

'Can you let me in? I need to talk to you.'

'Who is this?'

'Pete, your mother's partner.'

That sent a jolt of concern through her. She might not have got on with Eve, but she was family.

'What's happened?' 

'We need to talk, buzz me in?'

'No. Has something happened to her?'

'Jesus. Eve said you were a bitch about letting people in–scared shitless of germs or something?'

'What about my mother?' The sense of panic that something had happened to Eve faded; there was no urgency in the man's tone. She could almost smell the fumes of alcohol on his breath three flights up. 

'Your mother has kicked me out. You need to talk to her. The bitch isn't answering my calls.'

'Not my problem,' said Lucy, hearing the man huff and swear at the intercom. Another drunk. No surprised there? 

'Be your problem if I gave the bitch a good slapping.'

Lucy shook her head. Where on earth did her mother dig this wanker up from? This must be Pete, the freak she'd heard about. 

'Good luck with that. Eve can take care of herself,' she said, remembering the time she had been called to the police station to retrieve Eve. Accused of involvement in a bar fight, where an individual ended up with ten stitches in his head. And all Eve could say, 'Well, the bottle was empty.' and 'Fancy coming to mine for a Sunday roast? Haven't seen you for ages.'

Bringing herself back to the here and now, the man at the other end was still whining on. 

'We're done, so to be blunt–piss off.' And she released the intercom button. To Lucy's annoyance, the buzz continued.

Marching into the kitchen, she switched on the tumble dryer. She would have left it until the morning so the noise wouldn't disturb her. Now it didn't make much difference. 

Tom, her client, had waited in the corner of her laptop screen. Lucy had all but forgotten him.

'Hi, everything, all right?' he asked, more curious than concerned. 

'Fine, thank you. We're finished now. Your system is virus-free, the lost files recovered.' 

'Thank goodness for that, so grateful, don't...'

Lucy cut him off. 'That's my job. In the future, make sure you don't open emails when you don't know the sender.' It had been clear her client had downloaded a malicious attachment again. He was an idiot, but she couldn't complain at a charge of £75 a time. 

'Got it,' he responded. 'Will PayPal what I owe you. I would like to show my gratitude, maybe buy you a drink...dinner?' he smiled, displaying a set of whiter than white teeth. Lucy had calculated they would have cost enough to pay her rent for several months.

'PayPal will suit fine.' she said, cutting him off as the entrance door buzzer went off again. Picking up her mobile, Lucy sent her mother a text.

Your so-called partner is ringing my bell. Please tell him to piss off. Why is it being your daughter involves me being in every aspect of your life? If he's not gone in five minutes, I'll set the police on him.

She didn't think that Eve would care for a moment, but somehow it made her feel better to have a rant. The buzzer went off again, her tumble dryer was making more of a racket than usual, and the EastEnders theme rang out from the neighbours above. If Andrew had lived, they would have had their own place by now. That was the plan. She remembered they had looked at the new estate under development and the excited talk about the help to buy schemes. She snapped back to the present. It didn't happen. Her phone buzzed a reply from her mother. 

Sorry, darling kicked the dickhead out, had enough of him.

'Wonderful,' murmured Lucy. The buzz of the intercom had stopped. Checking outside her third-floor window, she watched as the figure of a man walked away from the building. Texting her mother again,

Please do not provide my address to your boyfriends? Why would she do that?

I don't have boyfriends. I have lovers. And I didn't give him your address, the dickhead went through my things, been stealing from me. When are you coming over? I miss you?

Lucy regretted having started this. Eve now wanted a conversation. That would teach her to contact the woman. Tucking the phone under a computer magazine on her desk, what she couldn't see wouldn't disturb her. Next on her list, a guy called Rob. He, too, was a regular customer. He popped up on the screen with a massive grin.

'Desperate for your help, Lucy. Please say you can find a file I deleted by accident. I’ve checked the recycle bin, and it's not there.'

Lucy smiled, another idiot. Didn't he realise he could do this himself, and it wouldn't cost a penny? 

'Didn't I show you how to do this last time?'

'Yes, maybe I need you to show me in person? - Something the matter?'

Distracted, Lucy sniffed at the air; something was burning. A barbecue? In October? It was somewhere in her flat. Closing the laptop and getting up, she moved to the kitchen and froze to the spot. Several seconds went by before her brain processed the enormity of the scene she was looking at.

Dark grey smoke billowed out from under the tumble dryer, chased by short fingers of flames licking at the kitchen cabinets, tracking a path over the worktops. Snapping out of the trance, Lucy jumped into action, grabbing her mobile to call the emergency services. Followed by a thump to the fire alarm on her landing to alert the other block occupants.

Next. What to grab? The sound of running footsteps down the stairs confirmed the urgency of the situation. Lucy plucked up a coat hanging up behind the door, covering her nose with it as she unplugged her laptop. The flames still local to the kitchen, but smoke billowed out into the living room. A shout outside her door, get out Nothing was worth dying for. 

From the flat above, Adam watched her from the door for a second before taking his own advice. 

What to do? Everything she owned was in the three rooms she lived in and had been her home for four years. A voice in her head screamed, get out.  

2

Lucy arrived on her mother's doorstep later that night. No cash, no cards, all up in flames. She had saved her laptop, her livelihood, and couldn't go anywhere without her mobile, which held her client list. With no time to grab clothes, her wardrobe comprised only of what she wore, skinny jeans, a v neck pink jumper, and her hooded red coat. 

In a state of shock, Lucy drove to her mother's. The fireman had informed her there was no going back into the apartment. The concerned fireman enquired. Did she have somewhere to go? Lucy wasn't listening. Her eyes fixed on the four-story purpose-built flats, The block part of a mixed estate of bungalows, terrace houses. Built on land once farmed and a few minutes from the town. The downside was the noise from the A14 with the constant flow of vehicles. The passing headlights a backdrop as Lucy stared up at the blackened front windows of her home, the fireman was talking to her. The fire had been put out before it spread to other apartments though it had devastated hers. Did she need help to organise a place to go? Was she insured? And no, she couldn't go back in to rescue any belongings. 

The sound of his voice was white noise as Lucy continued to stare at those windows. She had moved in with Andrew four years ago. He died there; now it was gone. According to Eve, it had been her prison. A place to shut herself away.  It was her pain, and no one had any right to tell her how to deal with