The gruesome aspects of cleaning Anna’s body kept recurring in her dreams. She dreamt that Anna opened her eyes and just stared at her with a look of hatred.
Star awoke in a sweat in the early hours. She saw the apparition of Anna, white and naked at the foot of the bed, silently pleading with her to tell her father where she was and that she wanted a proper burial.
The words just sounded in Star’s head, but she shut them out, like she always did with the voices.
It was 7.00am when Star got out of bed after her restless night. She had breakfast and checked the body. Rigor was still firm and the wraps were puffing up, but there was no smell.
At 7.30am she reported to Max on her mobile that all was fine, apart from a disturbed sleep. As she ended the call, the landline phone rang. It sounded loud and urgent in her state of heightened anxiety.
A feeling of dread passed through Star. Anna’s father was downstairs using the security guard’s phone. He wanted to come up to the flat, he had important news. Star knew this was a most unusual event. Anna was happier avoiding contact with him, but was not antagonistic. After all, he paid for everything.
Would he notice she was not his daughter? Without makeup and their outdoor/ formal clothes, the two girls looked less alike. His last visit to the flat was about four months ago when he came for lunch. Anna had cooked his favorite meal and they’d had a particularly pleasant time.
Panic made her breathing quicken and she felt slightly dizzy from fear and adrenaline.
“Hello Anna, are you still there? Can I come straight up, please?”
“Yes, of course, it’s just that I had a bad night and I am not dressed yet. I am filled with dread about what you have to tell me.”
“I cannot hang around for you to dress. I’m coming up now!” and he hung up. He was dreading telling Anna the news. He was sure she would take it badly.
Star quickly checked around the room. It was perfectly neat. She glanced at the second bedroom door, and it was shut. Another careful look in the bathroom – he might need to pee; it gleamed and smelled fresh.
Grabbing her robe, Star composed herself for the performance of a lifetime. It had to be perfect; there were no rehearsals or replays in this scene. How should she greet him?
The door buzzer startled her and she dived for the door, pulling it open quickly, keyed up for fight or flight. She forced a smile as the door opened, thinking only of Max. She looked past the man in front of her, so that her face would not show surprise or give her away. With a sweep of her hand and a slight bow to welcome him, she invited him in. Star used her brief distracting gesture to process the image of the person, so that when she looked into his face, her response would be appropriate.
Mr. Short was a smartly dressed executive with a warm, kind face and a small moustache. He had a full head of steel grey hair and healthy brown skin. A recent holiday in a sunny country, she surmised. There was deep sadness in his brown eyes and they filled with tears as he looked at her. A brief flash of surprise showed in his face. Something was not quite right, but he dismissed the idea instantly. The girl was constantly evolving, experimenting with style and fashion, and he could not remember the last time he saw her in nightclothes.
Star noticed the look and was on guard. She put her arms around his neck; cheek to cheek, she hugged him as she spoke. Errors in mimicking Anna’s voice would be less noticeable in this position, close to his ear.
“You’re scaring me now. I can see you are upset. What do you need to tell me?”
Anna had not greeted him in this way since she was a child. She was typically friendly, but not touchy-feely and preferred ample personal space. He tried to gently release her grip, but she clung to him.
“Uncle Pete has died!” he said in a soft, regretful way.
“Who the fuck is Uncle Pete,” thought Star, “and how do I deal with this?”
She broke away, whirled round and ran for the sink, trying to focus on producing hysterical sobbing, as she bent over it. He was coming towards her, to console her.
“When did he die? How did it happen?” she blurted.
Tears were not happening, but she had reddened her face. Without looking up, she ran the cold tap, scooping water over her face, wiping it and the false tears away with her hands.
“I knew she would be unable to handle the news,” he thought, excusing her odd behavior. He remembered that Anna had become quite strange when her mother died.
“He died early this morning, Anna my love. He fell down the stairs where he works at Montgomery Close. He injured his neck and a clot formed on his brain stem. Although he went to hospital, there was nothing they could do. I tried to call you on your mobile, but there was no reply.”
Star noticeably stiffened at the address, Montgomery Close, where the drug dealers had moved on to after Max had rescued Alf.
“As you know, Pete was attacked about seven months ago. The original injury left a serious weakness in his neck, so in a way, that was the cause of his death. The doctor explained that pressure from the old injury might have caused Pete to black out at the top of the stairs, causing him to fall.”
“When is the funeral? Where?” asked Star, changing the subject.
“It’ll be on Wednesday or Thursday of next week, at Kemnal Park. I’ll confirm all the details later today. He wanted to be buried – silly old thing used to say cremation ruins any chance of coming back from the dead.”
“Thank you for taking the trouble to come and tell me personally. I’m so sad he’s dead and I’m sorry for the fuss I made just now.” Her voice sounded thick and snuffled as she spoke into the sink bowl. She grabbed a tissue and turned to face him, as she dried her face and blew her nose.
“Like a cup of tea?”
“Coffee, please. You know I can’t stand tea, never have,” Mr. Short replied, rather surprised.
“Oh! Sorry, I am all confused and upset, I cannot think straight.” She looked at the time. It was now 8.00am. “It’s late. I must get to work, as I have a big project on at the moment. I don’t know how I will cope with all this bad news.”
“Alright Anna, I understand. I have a lot to do as well; I will skip coffee and call you later.”
The man’s mobile phone warbled. “Sorry Anna, I must take this.”
Her ears perked up when she overheard mention of a second cash deposit of £350,000 next day at location G. She interpreted that as lockers, at one of the many locations they used.
Mr. Short finished the call and hugged Star, gave her a peck on the cheek, smiled and left.