Lost Lives (Emily Swanson Mystery Thriller Series Book 1) Read Free Page A

china animals huddled together like livestock awaiting slaughter.
    “Excuse the mess,” Harriet ushered Emily towards a dog-eared sofa. “My Andrew’s always got his nose in a book. You ask me it’s a waste of precious time. Won’t be a minute.”
    Emily stared in awe at the surrounding chaos. There was a door she hadn’t noticed. As she sat wondering what lay beyond, the door swung open.
    The man was tall and heavy, his dark trousers pulled high up over his pudding bowl midriff. He wore a brown chequered vest over a white shirt. His dark hair, which was combed into an immaculate side parting, matched the neatly trimmed moustache above his narrow lips. Emily found it difficult to age him. Definitely older than forty but younger than sixty. Something about the way he looked at her made her uneasy.
    “Mother didn’t say we were having visitors,” he said, his voice deep and raspy.
    Emily stood up. Unable to speak, she looked towards the kitchen door. She heard cupboard doors open and close, and the chink of cups and jars colliding. The man remained in the doorway, his irritation dissolving into nervousness. He stared down at his vest, distracted by a small stain.
    “I’m Emily. I just moved in across the hall.”
    “Andrew,” he muttered. “Mother already got her claws in you then? She’ll have you over here every day if you’re not careful. Likes to chat.”
    His movements stiff and awkward, Andrew hurried towards Emily with an outstretched hand. She shook it and watched as he rubbed his palm on the front of his thigh and then hid his hand back inside his pocket. The space between them filled with cement-like awkwardness until the kitchen door swung open and Harriet trundled into the room.
    “Oh, I see you two have met.”
    “You didn’t say we were having company,” Andrew replied.
    “Can’t plan for a surprise. Now, be a dear and fetch the tea tray. It’s too heavy for me.”
    Andrew sloped off towards the kitchen.
    “Don’t pay him no attention,” Harriet said, patting Emily’s arm and motioning for her to sit. “He takes good care of me, bless him, but sometimes he behaves like a middle-aged baby. Now, tell me all about yourself, Emily. Who you are and where you come from. And I bet you have a lovely husband on your arm as well, don’t you?”
    Emily shook her head.
    “No husband?”
    “It’s just me. I’ve just moved here.”
    “Where from?”
    Emily hesitated, then said, “From the countryside.”
    “Did you hear that, Andrew? Emily’s just moved here all on her own! That’s very brave of you, dear.”
    The old woman patted Emily’s hand while Andrew set the tea tray down onto the table and poured tea into three china cups.
    “Mind you,” Harriet continued, watching Andrew pour the milk, “you can’t be too careful in London. Living on your own might seem brave, but you hear all sorts of horrible things happening to people. Lord knows there’s been enough trouble in this building without wishing for more. Got a job, have you?”
    Unnerved by Harriet’s words, Emily picked up her cup and saucer and took a sip. The tea had a sweet, flowery taste and an instant calming effect.
    “I haven’t started looking for one yet,” she said.
    “Give the girl a chance, eh! What’s your profession?”
    “I was an English teacher.” The words felt like stones in Emily’s mouth.
    “How lovely! Children are so sweet when they’re young, aren’t they? Always speaking their minds like nobody’s business, not a care in the world! But soon as they turn into teenagers, something changes in them. You see all those gangs of youths on the streets, carrying knives and swearing like sailors, and you wonder what’s got into kids today that they have to travel around in packs like dogs, scaring old folk like me. It’s frightening when you think about it, isn’t it Andrew?”
    Andrew snorted, picked up the nearest book and began to read.
    “Poor Andrew,” Harriet continued. “Walking home