Doctor Who_ Warchild - Andrew Cartmel [27]
Even before she saw the shape coming swiftly down out of the shadows at her. Moving with great speed but no haste.
Moving through darkness.
Almost invisible in the shadows except for the glint of eye, gleam of fang.
Chapter 9
Creed emerged from the air-conditioned coolness of the school into the sledge-hammer sunlight of the parking lot, feeling dazed. He wasn’t looking forward to going home. He was replaying the encounter with Pangbourne in his mind, rehearsing what he would say to his wife, when he looked up across the empty parking lot and saw there, in the late afternoon glare, the yellow Fiat pulling in off the road.
It was Amy Cowan’s car. For a moment he tried to make himself see someone else at the wheel. But it was unquestionably Amy. She smiled and waved at him. Despite his best efforts Creed found himself smiling too.
He watched her through the bright glare that slid across her windscreen. The girl with short blonde hair and silver earrings. She always wore silver. It looked good on her, against the honey tan of her skin.
Amy steered the Fiat in a lazy half-circle and came to a halt just a few spaces from the only other car parked outside the school. Creed’s Audi, with his two daughters sitting patiently in it, waiting for him.
Creed stood there in the parking lot for an idiotic indecisive moment. He felt exposed, like the last chess piece left on the board. He didn’t want to bump into Amy, but there was nowhere to hide. And she’d seen him now. Creed saw her bending over to open the door of the car, and he thought for an instant of snow melting on an office carpet and delicate ice crystals on blonde eyelashes. The oceanic blue-green of her eyes. Eyes he could hardly bear to look into because he thought he might lose himself in them. Go down in their depths and never come back up.
He felt the eyes of his daughters on him as he walked towards Amy. There was no avoiding her now. Blonde hair, sea-blue eyes. Silver earrings. Wide, dazzling smile.
‘Finally decided to get an education, eh?’ Creed nodded towards the school building. It looked cool and dark, silent except for the snapping of the Stars and Stripes at the flagpole on the roof.
‘In a manner of speaking, yes,’ said Amy. ‘I’ve got to do some research and there’s a guy who works here who’s an expert in the field. His name’s Retour.’
‘He’s my daughter’s history teacher,’ said Creed.
‘You sound like you hate the guy.’
‘I never met him. Shouldn’t you be doing something?’
‘Doing something?’
‘It’s Saturday. You remember, Cowan, the weekend? A young woman like you should be doing something. Not working.’
‘It gets worse. I’m going back to the office after this. I’ll be there most of the evening.’
Amy looked at him and they were both silent. Creed became uncomfortably aware that he was wearing a wide grin of vacuous stupidity. Amy broke the silence. ‘I thought you might like to drop in.’
Well, listen-’
‘We could pull a couple of case-files. Crack some unsolved crimes together.’
‘I’d like to, but you know.’ Creed shrugged and nodded towards the car with his two daughters in it. ‘I have this whole circus to attend to.’ He thought guiltily of Justine. ‘What I laughingly call my life.’ Creed shrugged again, apologetically, and moved towards his car.
‘Well, if you change your mind, drive out and see me,’
said Amy. ‘I’ll take a break. If we can’t crack any unsolved crimes perhaps we can crack a few beers together.’
‘Beers?’
‘Sure; I bet I can drink more than you.’
‘You can probably drink me under the table,’ said Creed.
Then he instantly wondered if this sounded like some kind of sexual double-entendre.
Amy laughed and waved as she walked towards the school. She didn’t look back again. Creed’s initial sense of triumph began to melt away. He’d said no to Amy. He’d managed to stay away from her one more time. He’d done a good job.
So why did he feel this pang of disappointment?
Creed felt as if he was sitting