Название | Who Wants To Live Forever? |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Steve Wilson |
Жанр | Ужасы и Мистика |
Серия | |
Издательство | Ужасы и Мистика |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472083982 |
“And what about the other students? Are they nice?”
“Oh, a couple seem all right.”
“And would those couple perhaps be women around your age?”
“I suppose they are. I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Dad! Look, I’ve got to go now, but let me know how it goes. And how you get on with your classmates. Remember, play nicely with them. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Jules,” I said with a smile, and I put the phone down.
Week 2 — Manchester — Poisoning
The next week passed remarkably slowly. Every morning, I’d wait for the post to arrive, breathing a sigh of relief when there was nothing about cancelling the course in the mail. I pottered around my small room, willing the days to pass. Ever since the divorce, I had been living in a small rented flat in Fairhaven. It was quite a nice area, but I only had my own bedsit and a kitchen in the sprawling Victorian building, sharing the bathroom with the other tenants, and I never felt that I could call it my home. Sad, really, that this was all I had to show after a lifetime at work.
The two other tenants were both males in their thirties. They were out at work all day and weren’t ones for socialising, even if I had wanted to spend my evenings with people from a different generation with different sets of values. Consequently, the course took on an even greater importance, and when Tuesday came and there was still no word from the Education Department I began to hope that all would work out after all.
In truth, it was the company that was the attraction rather than the course itself. The latter seemed as if it was going to be interesting enough, so it was fair to say that I was looking forward to the subject matter, but I had thought a lot about the other class members, particularly Debbie and Trish, over the last week. I hadn’t mentioned them to Julie, of course; I didn’t confide everything during the conversations with my daughter.
Trish had introduced herself as ‘happily divorced’. Debbie had told us she had ‘left her husband’. That didn’t mean, of course, that they weren’t in settled relationships now, but at least there was the possibility that they were in a similar position to me. Were they to be involved with somebody else, then that would be a different matter. After what my wife had put me through, I could never even contemplate splitting up anybody else’s relationship.
I found myself attracted to the two women in completely different ways. Trish appeared, I suppose, to be the ‘safe’ choice. She dressed attractively yet sensibly, exuding the air of a smart, successful businesswoman who was happy with her lot in life. I had thought at first that her persona didn’t fully equate with her position as a sandwich maker, but that was being condescending on my part. Even if it was ‘only’ sandwiches, it was her own business, and she had set it up and made a success of it. She had also initiated the conversations at break time, and seemed prepared to take charge and make decisions. She showed no lack of confidence or sense of unease. I also figured that her self-confidence would make her the stronger of the two. It might be good for me to have somebody like her in my life.
I smiled wryly at my arrogance. I had met her once, for a couple of hours, and I was already thinking of her as being ‘in my life’. I was glad I wasn’t discussing this with Julie, for she would really have told me off for being presumptuous.
In contrast to Trish, Debbie came across as both dangerous and vulnerable. She dressed as if she was trying to defy the calendar that told her she was a woman in her mid-fifties. On many people, her dress would have come across as a shade too tight and a tad too short, but she managed to carry it off effortlessly. She certainly didn’t look her age, and there was a sensuality, rather than sexuality, about her that I found enticing. I could envisage life with her as being one long round of parties and excitement. There was nothing whatsoever ‘safe’ about her. And yet, at the same time, she came across as vulnerable. Her job might not be the most exciting, but anybody who was writing a novel should surely have something to enthuse about, yet she was almost apologetic for inflicting her words upon the world. Her self-effacing attitude added to her attraction as far as I was concerned. She could help me and I could help her. Much as Trish might be good for me, Debbie might be what I needed out of life.
I shook my head and told myself not to be so stupid. Yes, I might be interested in both of them, but whatever made me think that either of them would take the slightest interest in me? What did I have to offer them? Just enjoy their company, Ethan, I said to myself as I checked my appearance in the mirror before leaving the flat, and leave it at that. Then you’ll not be disappointed. But I knew that I’d take no notice of my own advice.
***
I arrived early at the college that evening, fully expecting that there would be new faces in the class, but I was to be disappointed; Gail was the only other person there when I arrived, and by seven o’clock there were just the six of us who had been present a week earlier. It was noticeable that Mike and Emma chose not to sit with us, but took seats at the other circular table. But there was no sign of Louise, and as the clock ticked on to ten past I began to think that the cancellation letters had been sent out but hadn’t arrived in time.
It was a surprise, then, when Louise walked in a couple of minutes later. “Sorry I’m late,” she said, “but I’ve been on the phone to the Education Department to see if anybody else has enrolled.”
“And have they?” I asked, unable to keep the fear out of my voice.
“No, I’m afraid not,” she answered in a sad voice. “But not to worry,” she added, her tone now much more upbeat. “I’ve managed to persuade them to let us continue. Now, let’s get started, shall we? We’ve a lot to cover tonight. Mike, Emma, as there’s only going to be us seven here, come and join us at this one table, please.”
Reluctantly, the couple moved over to join us, and I noticed a smile of what looked like satisfaction on Louise’s face. Perhaps she couldn’t say so officially, but I guessed she had felt challenged by last week’s attitudes and was determined not to allow them to cause any disruption to her class.
“Right, let’s begin. As I said last week, I want to concentrate over the next nine weeks on nine specific events that took place across the county over the last century. At first, you might think that there is nothing about these cases that warrants them being given more attention than any other occurrences, but I hope that by the time we reach the end of the course you will be able to see the connection between them all.
“Before I start, though, I want to set the general scene, and I intend to do that by talking about crime in Lancashire. If we look at the decade from the mid-thirties through to the end of the Second World War, it’s probably fair to say that the crime rate in Lancashire was fairly low, at least in comparison with the type and severity of crimes that we see today. Take youth crime, for example. Children at that time were still mischievous, but not malicious. One of their favourite pastimes was to tie adjacent doorknockers together, knock on the two doors, then run off to watch and laugh as the two householders tried in vain to open their front doors to see who was calling. It was mischievous rather than malicious, and nobody was hurt by it. In general, people could walk through town at night in perfect safety, and it’s become almost legendary now how people would go to the shops without bothering to lock their front doors, yet nothing would ever be stolen.”
“Yeah, but that’s because they had nowt to steal.”
“Perhaps that’s so, Mike, but nowadays, their home would be vandalised whether there was anything worth stealing or not. Women, especially, could feel safe when they were out. There were areas where police had to walk in pairs, because they were considered fair game for a beating when the pubs