Miss Lavinia & the ghosts of Malcolm’s past. Chapter 1
The man looks worn out, already tired although the day is just breaking. Perhaps he hasn’t slept at all. Maybe he lost his job last week or someone from his family will die tomorrow. Who knows. (Well, I should but I don’t.)
Rita looks him up and down, scrutinising his threadbare jacket and dirty shoes.
‘She won’t tell you anything,’ she says. ‘Not at this time of day. Spirits are weary at five o’clock in the morning. You know, four is really the witching hour and then they go. Poof! Disappear.’
She waves her arms doing the best impression of a disappearing ghost. I’m thinking it’s a bit over the top but who am I to criticise Rita, and, to tell the truth, the man looks a bit slow on the uptake.
‘I’m Detective Sergeant Malcolm Hawk,’ says the man, suppressing the yawn. ‘Here to speak to Mrs Lavinia…’ His voice trails off as he’s searching his memory for her surname.
‘Miss.’ Rita interrupts sternly. ‘Miss, not Mrs.’
I’m thinking it’s not that important when the police are on your doorstep but Rita doesn’t even let him finish. ‘As I’ve just told you, she won’t speak to you. Not at five o’clock in the morning.’
‘I’ve not come to talk about the spirits.’ DS Hawk has an air of a man who usually talks to…
