Tanya awoke lying on her stomach with her left arm dangling loosely off the side of their double bed. She cracked her eyes lazily, heavy lids complaining under the effort, and looked straight ahead to where a glass of water was refracting a rainbow onto her bedside table. Pretty, she thought. Or perhaps she mumbled it out loud, because a moment later she was pounced on by Charlie, who dug his fingers into her ribs and wrapped her up in his playful embrace.
“Morning sweetheart”, he purred in her ear.
She laughed and slapped him away, rolling over to face him head on. They kissed slowly, before she yawned and slid her bare feet out from under the duvet and wandered through into the kitchen. Coffee? Yes. Would Charlie want some? Of course. Black no sugar.
“Guess what.” said Charlie, walking into the kitchen carrying a stack of mail. Tanya rolled her eyes at his threadbare track bottoms. “Larissa and David have–”
“You don’t want me to guess?” Tanya broke in, reappearing from behind the open fridge door, carton of milk in hand.
“Go on.”
“David and Larissa…hmm…David and Larissa sent us their subscription to Gardener’s Weekly? No. Oh what can it be? Are they…perhaps…inviting us to a wedding?” Tanya’s eyes twinkled at his shocked expression.
“Right that’s it! It took me a week to find out they were engaged and now I’m the last to find out about the wedding too!”
“Come on,” Tanya laughed, “You know I’ve been helping Larissa organise it, of course I know the all the details.”
Charlie shook his head, in mock disbelief. “Still, fancy invitation: ‘Dear Mr and Mrs Abell, we would like to extend an invitation to you to join us at our wedding at Filsbury Hall on the 24th of September.’ Look at all the patterns and glitter, reminds me of our invitations.” He encircled his wife’s waist in his arm and pulled her away from the coffee machine for a quick kiss, before she pulled away giggling.
Tanya carried on with her coffee making, watching the thick trail of brown liquid run smoothly into each mug. She inhaled deeply, such a familiar smell. Charlie had sat at the kitchen island and was sliding bills and junk mail systematically in two different directions across the surface. She brought both mugs over to the island and slid into a barstool, resting her head on Charlie’s shoulder.
“What do you make of this?” said Charlie, who had gone quiet for the last couple of minutes.
He slid an A4 sheet of paper over to her. It was unfolded and had one short message typed in small letters.
You know what happened to Acram. The body outside is responsible.
Tanya frowned.
“It was on the front doormat, at the very bottom of the pile of letters.”
Tanya shook her head in confusion and stood to walk out of the room.
“Wait! I’m coming with you.”
They grabbed coats from the hooks by the door, before Tanya slipped barefoot into her trainers and gingerly opened the door. The fresh air hit her like a wave and the bright mid-morning sunshine left her feeling disorientated after the darkness of the hallway. The porch and front garden were deserted.
The couple visibly relaxed, and Tanya watched as her husband proceeded down the path to the road, where he scanned to the right and then left, before freezing in place and squinting into the sun down towards the eastern end of Cross Close where the summer sun turned the church into a menacing silhouette. Tanya scurried down the path to join him, craning her neck above the parked cars to make out the white gazebo and flashing panda cars parked in the middle of the road. There seemed to be few people around, but she could make out a few hi-vis vests milling around to the left of the gazebo.
Charlie made to walk closer, but Tanya stopped him with a feeling of unease that she wasn’t keen to show.
“Wait,” she said, tugging at his sleeve, “Lets go back inside and finish our coffees, then get dressed and go see what’s going on. If its anything important they’ll still be there in half an hour, if not then why worry?”
Charlie was curious and impatient, but shrugged and grinned, taking Tanya’s hand and leading her back inside.
Later that morning, the two left the house again. The sun was now high in the sky and the clock on the church smiled its bright face down at Tanya as she stepped out of the front gate and joined Charlie as he walked towards the gazebo – which remained in the centre of the road, drawing eyes from all over the street.
Before they could get any closer, however, a short, athletic woman in a black uniform who had spotted their approach marched away from the gazebo and stopped them in their tracks, telling them that there had been an incident and that no civilians were to use the street for this time. Tanya and Charlie exchanged confused glances, before thanking the officer and heading once more back inside. Before they reached their garden gate, however, their neighbour Mary-Ann, a greying middle-aged woman called them over to where she was sitting in her garden sipping tea over the newspaper.
“Did you see what happened?” they shook their heads. “I was out with the dogs early this morning” as if on cue two Jack Russell’s came running out of the house, yapping at the couple. “And I saw the most terrible thing! My heart’s been racing all morning because of it! It was me that called the police you see.”
“Well what was it?” Tanya watched Charlie try to hide the impatience that was bursting out through his every movement.
“A body! On the road! Some guy, I didn’t recognise him. Looked like he’d been hit by a car! He had a big black holdall with him that had some sort of liquid spilling out of it and what looked like a blade sticking out of the side! Awful puddle of blood by his head, made me feel quite sick!”
“OK OK OK!” blurted Tanya, grimacing at the thought.
As Charlie steered the conversation towards its end, Tanya retreated into her thoughts trying to connect the strange events of the past couple of days. That drunk man in the road on the night of their anniversary, and the way he had screamed when they left him in his hallway. The strange feeling that she was being watched when she walked home yesterday. And that man in the grey trench coat who stood waiting at the bus stop across from the café where she worked but never got on a bus.
The Abells returned to their kitchen and began constructing their traditionally exuberant brunch.
It seemed to Tanya that Charlie had completely forgotten about the mysterious note they had found on their mat. But for herself, she couldn’t keep it out of her mind. When the news came on the local radio at 12pm, Tanya’s ears were glued to the speakers. The man was named. Mr Anderson. There was, however, no mention of the bag as reported by Mary-Ann.
“This is the second mysterious death in Stackley in three days, detectives must be having a field day!”
The broadcaster and their companion droned on as the talk changed to the weather that week and Tanya stopped listening.
Nodding to herself as means for reassurance she crossed to the landline and dialled 101.