Singled Out Read Free Page B

Laura shifted position so that her face filled the mirror. She and her mother matched. The hair styles were different, but the features uncannily alike. The same dark hair, the same light hazel, almost honey-coloured eyes. Everyone had always said she was the spitting image of her mother.
    But Laura was determined that any parallels between them would stop at their physical likeness. In every other particular, Laura Fisher’s life was going to be totally different from her mother’s. She was not going to trap herself in stifling suburbia. She was not going to tamp down her emotions into acquiescent passivity. She was not going to hide unpalatable truths behind a façade of middle-class conformity. She was going to rise above her background and, by sheer will-power, make her own destiny.
    Above all, Laura Fisher was determined that her life, unlike her mother’s, would not be prematurely ended by murder.

Three
    â€˜God, am I relieved to see you.’ Rob’s voice swooped in self-parodying campness as Laura entered the
Newsviews
office.
    She looked at her watch. Bloody Michael’s appearance hadn’t made her late, had it? But no, she was all right. ‘I’m on time, Rob.’
    â€˜Not what I meant, lovey.’ His hand gestured languidly towards the day’s bulletin board.
    Amidst the usual pinned-on cuttings and notes about potential stories was a black and white photograph. It was grainy, passport-size blown up, and showed a young woman with dark hair and pale eyes.
    â€˜For a moment thought it was you, sweetie,’ Rob cooed.
    â€˜Doesn’t look anything like me, does it?’
    â€˜Oh yes, dear, very like.’
    â€˜I can’t see it.’
    â€˜No, well, we never can, can we? We all have this image of ourselves that’s totally different from what the world sees. Source of most of the tragedies that ever happen, that fact, you know, Laura dear.’
    â€˜Is it?’ She grinned as she moved across to the coffee machine and filled herself a white plastic cup. As ever, it was almost too hot to hold. She took a scalding sip.
    â€˜Oh yes,’ Rob went on. ‘I mean, for example, I just think of myself as an ordinary-looking workaday sort of chap …’ He smiled in apologetic mock-naivety, ‘… but you wouldn’t believe the number of men out there who think I’m just
devastating – gorgeous
. I don’t pretend to understand it, but they just can’t seem to get enough of my body.’
    He sighed, perplexed by the intractable oddity of human nature.
    â€˜Do I gather from this that you had a good evening?’
    â€˜Oh, my
dear
.’ He coyly fluttered his long eyelashes. ‘Did I just? A good evening? I tell you, if there were Fucking Olympics, I could do it for England.’
    â€˜Good for you.’
    â€˜Mm, very good for me, thank you.’ A modest little smile. ‘And, I’m fairly confident, not bad for the others involved. You?’
    â€˜Me?’ Laura was annoyed to find herself colouring.
    â€˜Your evening.’ Rob turned an incisive stare on her. ‘Did your evening turn out all right?’
    She responded with a light ‘Uhuh’.
    â€˜Good … Good …’ He held her gaze and Laura was the one who turned away. There were times when she wished Rob didn’t know her so well.
    â€˜So what were you up to, Laura? Skulking round in a false identity, on the look-out for a bit of rough trade …?’ She refused to be drawn, just smiled at him enigmatically. ‘Hm. Certainly what
I
was doing.’
    He reached out, took her hand and planted a slobbery kiss on it. Like all his actions, it was heightened, as if the gesture were being sent up. ‘Anyway, glad to see you’re all right.’
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    â€˜No, really got a
frisson
when that photo came in.’ He nodded towards the bulletin board. ‘Thought for a horrid moment