Broken Angel

Chapter Seventeen

The morning sun woke Abbey. For a moment, she was cosy in a warm bed and at peace with the world, and then reality flooded her mind. Tired from a disturbed night's sleep, she grabbed her dressing gown, dashed to the bathroom, and found the door locked. "Steve, Are you in there?"

"Five minutes."

She returned to her room and sat on the edge of the bed. Her thoughts strayed to the fire and the cost of repairs. Her mood changed when Steve shouted, "bathroom's free."

"Thanks." She collected her things and opened the door. Steve was waiting.

"I need to talk to you."

"Can I have a bath?"

"Of course, but you need to know that my father's arranged a builder to check on the damage at ten. You should come with me. Sort of a kill two bird's scenario."

"I need to see Mr Peters."

"He can wait. This builder is good and owes my father a few favours. If he can fit it in, it could save months."

She smiled. "My knight in shining armour."

"Are you coming with me or not?"

"I'll be ready in twenty minutes."

"Good. I'll make toast for breakfast. Tea or coffee."

"Coffee, black, no sugar."

"Don't tell me, you're sweet enough already."

She disappeared into the bathroom. Did the necessary, splashed her face with tepid water, grabbed a towel and dried. Fifteen minutes later, she entered the kitchen. This morning she wore black jeans, a black jumper and black leather jacket. She pointed, "Is that toast mine?"

Steve nodded. "Smart outfit. Looks expensive."

"Coffee, I need this to get me going, thanks." She took a slice of cold toast, covered it in jam and devoured it before lifting a second. "Where's Harold?"

"He left early for a meeting in town." Steve glanced at the clock above the door. "Lift and shift. Time we were not here."

"I'll get my coat."

Abbey met Steve by the door. Together they returned on foot to their flats and waited.

At ten on the dot, a black Lexus Coupe stopped alongside them. The driver, a well-built man of average height, emerged from the car. "Steve?"

"That's me, and this is Abbey."

"Albert Cummings. I spoke with your father last night."

He locked the car and walked briskly towards them. Holding out his right hand, he shook hands after wiping them on his trousers. "Been on site.

Well dressed in a dark blue suit, holding a pair of gloves and a clipboard, Albert intrigued Abbey. "Business must be good."

"Couldn't be better but then I do work for many of the top people in the city, and I charge premium rates. Shall we inspect the damage? Wait, I'll get three hard hats from my boot. Better safe than sorry."

Steve punched the door code and then stepped back. "That's odd, the door's open." He pushed and let it swing wide. "Is anybody there?"

"Seen this before," said Albert. "Thieves tend to find out about fires and know the owners will have stayed somewhere else. They would have visited during the night. Steve stay with Abbey." He returned to his car, opened the boot and removed a pickaxe handle. As the boot slammed shut, he smiled at them. "This usually scares the shit out of them. I'll check around."