Abediah Thornton

Chapter 31 - Saturday

Abediah was playing the piano when she heard someone pulling into the drive. She rose from the piano stool and made her way to the door. She was already there before anyone had knocked. She pulled open the door to see who had arrived. As the door opened she was shocked to see the large shape of Goodman moving swiftly to the door, he was already inside before she could say anything. 

Goodman didn't look like his usual self. His face and neck were flushed bright red. His tie pulled down as though it had been too tight. His shirt untucked at the front. He stopped by the table and turned on her. Abediah felt shocked and angry that the man had pushed his way into her house, she felt sure he could have no reason to be there, again! 

'Mr Goodman,' she started, her hand still on the doorknob, she pulled herself to her full height. 'How can I help you today?'

'You! You!' Goodman came at her shaking his fist, looking down angrily into her face. He pulled the door out of her hand, slammed it shut and pushed her across the room. Abediah caught herself on the edge of the table. She put the table between them and inched around it. Now she felt scared. Goodman looked furious, and nothing like his usual composed self. She wasn't sure of the best way to proceed, but she knew she needed back up. 

'Can I get you a cup of tea, Mr Goodman, or coffee perhaps?' she said as calmly as she could. Her voice was high and tight, but it seemed to have done the trick. 

'Coffee,' said the man, before pulling out a chair and dropping heavily into it. Abediah turned and slowly made her way towards the kettle, racking her brain for the right thing to do, the right person to call. She knew that Winnie and Etta were out of town, and anyway, it was a weekend. If she called the lawyer's office, it would go to straight to voice mail. Could she call Charlie? She was too far away, and besides, Abediah didn't think she could risk having an obvious phone conversation. 

The kettle had not long boiled, but she picked it up and took it to the sink. She emptied it and filled it again. Her new phone was charging right next to the kettle. John was the last person who'd called her. Could she get to his number quickly? But what if John spoke too loudly? Would Goodman hear?

She placed the kettle back on it's stand and pushed the button down. She reached up to take down some cups. As she brought them down she touched the phone, slid her finger across the security shape and hit the phone icon. She just pushed it down as hard as she could. 

As the kettle started getting louder she heard John's voice, distant and hopefully quiet enough that Goodman couldn't hear it above the heating water. 'Hello? Mrs T?' Before the kettle stopped boiling Abediah turned back towards Goodman.

'Mr Goodman,' she said just before she turned, much louder than was necessary, 'do you take sugar and milk?' She stopped abruptly when she saw the gun on the table. Steam poured out of the kettle heating the back of her neck. 

'Mr Goodman,' she said again, 'why is there a gun on my kitchen table?' She decided to keep the pretence that everything was OK. She'd read somewhere you should keep the gunman talking in hostage situations. She suddenly thought, where did I read that? Before bringing herself back to the current situation. 'Your coffee Mr Goodman?' she asked again. 

The lawyer was focused on the gun, it was black. He was tracing it's lines with his finger. 'Three sugars,' he said, not taking his eye off the gun. 

'Of course.' Abediah turned back, and started making the coffee. She could see, on the phone, her call to John was still open. She couldn't hear anything now from the phone. She only hoped that she'd done enough for John to understand. She took a deep breath, she would survive this, she told herself, before turning back around to place the coffee cup in front of the lawyer.