On the Eighth Day of Christmas
Jan. 1st, 2006 11:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
franceslievensPrevious parts
Gavarni had learned to love the quiet of the New Year's Day mornings. At the first rays of light party-goers went home in search of their beds and he was left to survey the carnage. He had worked so many times on New Year's Day. He'd tried to remember when he hadn't, but those days were swallowed by the mists of time, together with the reading of New Year's letters and kissing great-aunts that were long dead now. For the last decades there had always been a murder to solve or a missing kid to look for. Now there was only the silence and the first rays of sunlight. A rather drunk and very affectionate couple tried to open their front door, but didn't really manage to get that key into the lock. Gavarni stepped off the pavement for a moment, into the gutter littered with the remains of last night's fireworks. It had been a great celebration. He hadn't really taken part, but he hadn't minded either. His life was going on steadily without any direction and that was fine by him.
“Good morning, miss Saunders.”
“Mister Gavarni, what a nice coincidence!”
The fat guy grinned at that. “Ah, you think that me waiting here for a couple of hours is a coincidence.”
Grace Saunders laughed aloud. “I guess you wanted to speak to me then. Shall we get a coffee somewhere?”
“You were right. This wasn't my case. But I needed to find out what happened to Layla to see it. It's so simple. She took an overdose, Sam found her, stripped her off her clothes and dumped her in the canal, because he was frightened the police would think he provided the drugs. Stupid git trying to mask one crime with another. He'd better be put away.”
“Are you going to tell the police what you found out?”
“It isn't my job, is it? They will get him – eventually. It isn't up to me anymore.”
“No it isn't.” Grace looked pensive. “It's a hard and lonely job, working the streets next to the canal. I try to give those girls something, a shoulder to cry on, a person who wants to listen. Maybe I hope they'll give me in return the affection I lack.”
“It's a hard and lonely world out there, miss Saunders, but I wouldn't say it lacks in love.”
Grace shook her head. “Someone else took it all. There is no love left for me.”
Gavarni stayed quiet. What could he say to disproof her certainty?
A familiar beeping sound interrupted their silence. Grace looked at her mobile phone and smiled.
“Good news?” Gavarni asked.
“My Wednesday-lover wishes me a happy New Year and says he misses me.”
Now the fat guy smiled as well. He got up and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Seems there is much love left for you, miss Saunders.”
Gavarni had learned to love the quiet of the New Year's Day mornings. At the first rays of light party-goers went home in search of their beds and he was left to survey the carnage. He had worked so many times on New Year's Day. He'd tried to remember when he hadn't, but those days were swallowed by the mists of time, together with the reading of New Year's letters and kissing great-aunts that were long dead now. For the last decades there had always been a murder to solve or a missing kid to look for. Now there was only the silence and the first rays of sunlight. A rather drunk and very affectionate couple tried to open their front door, but didn't really manage to get that key into the lock. Gavarni stepped off the pavement for a moment, into the gutter littered with the remains of last night's fireworks. It had been a great celebration. He hadn't really taken part, but he hadn't minded either. His life was going on steadily without any direction and that was fine by him.
“Good morning, miss Saunders.”
“Mister Gavarni, what a nice coincidence!”
The fat guy grinned at that. “Ah, you think that me waiting here for a couple of hours is a coincidence.”
Grace Saunders laughed aloud. “I guess you wanted to speak to me then. Shall we get a coffee somewhere?”
“You were right. This wasn't my case. But I needed to find out what happened to Layla to see it. It's so simple. She took an overdose, Sam found her, stripped her off her clothes and dumped her in the canal, because he was frightened the police would think he provided the drugs. Stupid git trying to mask one crime with another. He'd better be put away.”
“Are you going to tell the police what you found out?”
“It isn't my job, is it? They will get him – eventually. It isn't up to me anymore.”
“No it isn't.” Grace looked pensive. “It's a hard and lonely job, working the streets next to the canal. I try to give those girls something, a shoulder to cry on, a person who wants to listen. Maybe I hope they'll give me in return the affection I lack.”
“It's a hard and lonely world out there, miss Saunders, but I wouldn't say it lacks in love.”
Grace shook her head. “Someone else took it all. There is no love left for me.”
Gavarni stayed quiet. What could he say to disproof her certainty?
A familiar beeping sound interrupted their silence. Grace looked at her mobile phone and smiled.
“Good news?” Gavarni asked.
“My Wednesday-lover wishes me a happy New Year and says he misses me.”
Now the fat guy smiled as well. He got up and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Seems there is much love left for you, miss Saunders.”
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Date: 2006-01-01 10:19 pm (UTC)Oh.... I feel a plot twist coming on!
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Date: 2006-01-02 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-02 04:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-03 01:52 am (UTC)I dunno.
I'm not as happy with this one as I am with some other things I've written.
I do hope you enjoyed it...