The Injured Party

Prompt image for the Fandango's Flash Fiction prompt

For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #107, where we write about this photo from Pixabay.

She sat dozing in her armchair. She spent most afternoons like this, dozing, since her retirement almost two years ago. A shrill knock at the door aroused her. “Who could that be?” She did not get many visitors, these days.

She padded down the hallway and meekly opened the door. “Mrs Evans ?” She didn’t recognise the man standing before her, who was wearing an ill-fitting suit and who smelled of cigarettes.

“I’m Terry McFarlane, from Sun Hill CID. Are you Mrs Linda Evans?” “Yes, officer”, she looked taken aback, “how can I help?” “It’s about Colin Dermott Evans.” Her husband. Without hesitation, she replied “yes, officer, please come in.” She led him into the parlour. Seated, she asked “What do you want with Colin? We split up, you know, it must be five years ago now. So I’m not sure how much I can help you”, she added for good measure.

“It’s a strange one, Mrs Evans. It comes vie New South Wales State Police, a Mr Terence Evans is worried about the whereabouts of Mr Colin Evans.”

“Terry?”, she replied, aghast. “But Terry’s been over there, must have been thirty years since. Even when he lived here, there was no love lost, they didn’t get on.”

“Apparently, Terence Evans has been trying to contact Colin Evans for the last six months, has been unable to trace him and contacted his local police, who in turn contacted us.”

“So, how can I help?”

“Well, we wondered if you might have any idea of your husband’s whereabouts?”

“I’m sorry, officer. I threw him out for the last time, five years ago.” She added acidically, “he always had a string of women – you could try finding one of them…”.

“So, can you tell us anything that might help us?”

“Well, I bumped into one of his old gambling buddies about three years ago, he said Colin had flown out to Thailand at the start of the winter.” The policeman noted this down. “And can you tell us the name of this friend?” He noted that down, too.

Another five minutes, and Linda had clearly been as much help as she was going to be. The policeman said his thanks, and departed.

Returning to her lounge, Linda walked to the sideboard and gently patted the skull, which formed the centrepiece. She wondered what she should do next.

“I think you need to lie low for a while, Colin, don’t you?”

Author: Mister Bump UK

Designed/developed IT systems for banks, but had a stroke in 2016, aged 48. Returned to developing from home, plus do some voluntary work. Married, with a grown-up, left-home daughter.

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