NickHC

Jemma checked her watch as the doorbell buzzed three times in quick succession; it was a quarter to one in the afternoon. She didn’t bother to get up as she heard the front door open and close, and a moment later, the sleek glossy black ponytail topped head of her best friend, Becki, peeked around the door. “You’re fifteen minutes early!”. Becki pulled a face as she came into the lounge. “That’s because I am not you, Honey. I can actually manage to get to places on time and frequently, even be early. Unlike someone not a million miles away I could name!” She grinned maliciously at Jemma as she flounced into the room and joined her on the giant plush, expensive leather sofa. ...

It was the best, the very best Saturday job you could have, she thought. It wasn’t just the pay either, which was Gucci, Gucci, Gucci all the way to the bank. It was probably the best Saturday job in the whole world, assuming they had them in other countries. Did they have them in Africa, Europe or India or Australia or…or, well they probably did, she decided as no other country sprang readily to mind. Anyway, it was decidedly an uber-cool Saturday job and certainly beat the hell out of waitressing! ...

“Noisy," I muttered to myself, giving the duvet cover one final twitch to centre the crest of my favourite soccer team slap bang in the middle of the bed. Little fusspot would be sure to notice if it was even half a centimetre out! I paused just as I was smoothing everything down again as a loud scream sounded from the adjacent building. A second, third and fourth followed and then after a pause a couple more, finishing with an extended long and particularly shrill one that made even me wince. ...

Part 1 It wasn’t raining but it was damp, grey, slightly misty and the evening was fast closing in. The light was starting to fade as it always did so much earlier up there at this time of the year. The dirty white van bounced and rolled along a narrow country lane littered with potholes as it wound in and out of the rocks and heather, heading south, mission accomplished. ...

Part 2 The rather mundane dirty white van was on the road once more, carrying yet another cargo of captive misery in the back. Up forward in the cab, Tracey was in the driving seat for once, rather than Sonia. This time it would only be a relatively short journey as their destination wasn’t too far from London. Not one of those interminable, off-the-map trips delivering to some sadistic deviant’s private little incarceration facility hidden from curious eyes deep in the unpopulated wilds! ...

Porridge, she decided. She’d looked out of the bedroom window, and the weather was decidedly blustery. Cold probably at this time of the year with that wind shaking the trees and bushes but fortunately not wet. Chilly indeed but wet, no. Grey but the forecast last night had not mentioned any rain. Porridge, she reaffirmed looking out of the kitchen window. Yes, definitely a porridge day, something traditional, warming and wholesome for the insides. None of that modern bran or yoghurt muck or worse ‘breakfast biscuits’. ...

The car was a lot bigger close up I noticed as I hurried up to it. I don’t drive, failed my test three times during my home-based gap year and gave up trying after that. Total loss of confidence coupled with a general disinterest I suppose, but then that does sum up my driving plus a lack of interest in motor vehicles. I had never felt much at ease behind the wheel, and that evidently came across to the examiners, that and the numerous errors I always made. ...