The Calling Read Online Free Page B

times each week. Not just for the exercise but because he liked the solitude.
    The water was cool, and he concentrated on the smell of chlorine and the rhythm of his own breathing until the shouting and screaming of other people sounded distant. For the first eighty-four lengths they were just voices mingling with each other; echoing, booming and rebounding above his head.
    Length eighty-five, his concentration broke a little. A teenage girl with wavy red hair and a Celtic tattoo squealed as she fell into the water. Her boyfriend laughed, yelled and leapt after her.
    Goodhew swam on, everything else sweeping past him. He stared at the tiled bottom of the pool as he powered through his ninety-fifth length. He always kept himself to the two lanes roped off for serious swimmers, and he always swam front-crawl.
    Ninety-six . He thought of Margaret Whiting and her hands trembling as she grappled with the sodden tea bags.
    Ninety-seven . He thought of Kaye Whiting, pale and pretty in the photo perched on Margaret’s mantelpiece. Watching him wherever he sat or stood.
    Ninety-eight . Michelle, sharper featured, with a strident blonde perm and a mean-spirited boyfriend.
    Ninety-nine. Kaye’s uncle Andy, a devoted son who nevertheless had offered no excuse for missing his mother’s birthday.
    One hundred . No one knew if a crime had actually been committed, or whether Kaye would even be found.
    Gary completed the final length, finishing in the shallow end, and leant back against the side of the pool. He allowed his legs to float in front of him and stretched his arms out along the side.
    The pool wasn’t so busy now, and he shared the shallow end with several families accompanying learner children in yellow floats and armbands. A group of four teenagers had since joined the tattooed redhead and her boyfriend, and their horseplay kept the deep end busy while the training lanes were now empty. Things were all winding down at the end of the day.
    A brunette emerged from the changing rooms, her towel swinging around her ankles from one slender hand. She walked over to the railings fronting the spectator seats, smiling coyly at a couple of dads watching their offspring from the front row. She draped the towel near their knees. Practising a slinky movement she’d seen on catwalks, she swung her hips as she turned towards the water.
    She was absolutely sure every man within range was watching.
    Shit , thought Gary, as she slipped into the pool beside him and braced herself against the chill of the water by pressing her fingers around his arm.
    She inhaled sharply. ‘Oh, it’s cold in here.’
    ‘It’s nice enough once you’re in,’ he muttered. ‘Why are you here?’
    She massaged his arm as she ran her fingers up it to give his biceps a squeeze. She fixed her gaze on him and smiled playfully. ‘Nice bod, Gary.’
    ‘Why are you here? I bet that’s the first time that swimsuit’s ever been in the water.’
    ‘Nice, isn’t it? Suits me, don’t you think?’
    ‘Whatever, Shelly.’
    ‘Oh, come on, either it does or it doesn’t? Tell me if you ever think I would look better without it, Gary.’ She pouted and smiled. ‘Won’t you?’
    ‘I’m not here to flirt with you.’
    ‘Oh, very serious, Gary,’ she erupted with a spontaneous laugh. ‘Have I offended you?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Oh, good. You see, I wouldn’t want to commit an offence, Officer. That means you’d have to put me in handcuffs, and then …’
    Here we go again . ‘Look, Shelly, what do you want?’
    ‘Whoa, Gary!’ She raised her hands as if in surrender. ‘If you’ve had a bad day, don’t take it out on me.’ She began treading backwards into deeper water. ‘Tell you what, though, if I were a man and you were a woman, I’d say you were frigid.’
    She gave up then, and he watched her in silence as the water lapped over her nipples, making her swimsuit slightly transparent.
    ‘Oh, I remember now – Bryn’s here. He’s sitting