Murfey's Law

Chapter Three

Lori surveyed the contents of her suitcase which was now strewn across both the bed and the floor, she had unpacked as moodily as she'd packed, irritated at letting her emotions get the better of her so many times in recent days. Four pairs of knickers just weren't going to cut it in this heat, even if they were black she reckoned, adding locate washing machine and shop for pants to her mental to-do list.

Hidden underneath a pile of mismatched bikini bottoms and tops, all two sizes too small, Lori found the travel adapter she'd paid far too much for at Heathrow Airport and headed down to the kitchen with her laptop to do some research.

#

While she waited for the screen to come to life Lori flicked the kettle on and poked around in the cupboards. Everything in the kitchen seemed much as it did in the rest of the house, unfinished. At one end of the bench top, a jumble of handles sat waiting to be screwed on to the cabinet doors. Three different sized screwdrivers sat beside the pile. Typical, thought Lori. The only job Jack appeared to have ever completed in his life was living.

It struck her at that moment that she didn't know exactly how he'd died. To most people it would have been their first question, but not to Lori, this was the first time it'd come to mind. She figured he'd probably just followed in the footsteps of her mother. When he'd had enough, he'd had enough.

In a cupboard set aside for crockery and large cobwebs Lori cautiously retrieved a mug and poured herself a cup of tea. She ducked into the shop to grab a bag of sugar.

Beside the cash register, on a pile of paper bags reserved for the Jurassic sweets, Jenny had left a note. Emergency at the school, will catch up with you later this afternoon. Don't forget to go see your father's solicitor – Robert Matthison at 1pm to sign paperwork. Lori tore it off and stuffed it into the back pocket of her shorts. Untangling a pen tied to the bottom of the till she wrote on the clean bag underneath, I. O. ME – One bag of sugar.

Perched on a stool beside the counter Lori keyed her password into the laptop hoping someone in the street would have an unsecured wireless signal that she could tap into. Bingo! Apparently FoxyNonna lived somewhere nearby and didn't mind a bit of unprotected wireless routing.

According to Google, Lori discovered that Robert Matthison LLB, the Bob that Jenny must have been referring to last night, had his office in Green Bay, the next village along from Murfey's Beach. From the little map on their website, it looked to be about a twenty minute walk. She could do with the exercise she told herself, and besides, it wasn't like there was actually a choice, she had no other mode of transport and judging by the taxi driver's mumblings last night outside the train station, not many cabs came this far down the coast.

In the corner of the screen a little chat window popped up with a PING! It was Sara. She'd obviously seen Lori's instant message status flick to Online when she'd logged in to check her emails.

Lori hovered the mouse pointer over Sign Out.

On the one hand, she desperately wanted to ignore it, make Sara suffer, but on the other, she missed her best friend terribly. She needed to share her news, get Sara's opinion and advice on how to get rid of the shop as quickly and as painlessly as possible. She would know exactly what Lori should do.

Their friendship had been built on mutual understanding and admiration.

#

Robin James, and Catherine Sands had been admitted to the Maudsley Psychiatric Hospital on the same day. It was Lori's twenty-third birthday. She and Sara had been sat beside each other on the bolted down plastic visitors seating, signing committal papers for their respective mothers, when a stark naked patient had tried to make his break for freedom through the doors separating the waiting room from the hospital itself. Thankfully the half inch thick glass had held, and his morbidly obese body had merely splattered against the frosting. Out of nervous anxiety or perhaps as a release of years of worry the girls had burst into fits of inappropriate giggles. They'd spent the next three days locked inside Lori's apartment, laughing, drinking and eventually crying. Max had been on call for them, ferrying vodka and takeaway meals back and forth. He didn't speak apart from to tell Sara that he loved her as he handed over the deliveries. It was the first time Lori had realised true love actually existed. She hadn't cried once since then.