The Woman

14.Irene

John is sitting at the table in the kitchen while I hurl clothes around my bedroom. With the door open, the noise is distracting and finally John looks up from what he's reading. "What are you doing?"
"Going into battle, John. I need the right armour." I reply wearing a large yellow hi-vis jacket. "No." I couldn't help but think about Annie. The flat isn't the same with her gone. She hasn't called, messaged or even tried to contact me. I have texted her not getting a reply, I know she read the message.

.John and I are on the move. I am wearing my usual coat and scarf.
"So, what's the plan?" John asks as he looks out the window.
"We know her address." I reply, not really answering the question.
"What, just ring her doorbell?"
"Exactly." I smirk."Just here, please." I call out to the cab driver
"You didn't even change your clothes." John notices my attire.
"Then it's time to add a splash of colour."

We  got out of the taxi and I lead John down a narrow street, pulling my scarf off as I go. Eventually I stop and turn around to face John.
"Are we here?" John asked confused.
"Two streets away, but this'll do." I look around at my surroundings.
"For what?"
"Punch me in the face." I gesture to my own left cheek.

"Punch you?" John asks as his mouth was agape.
"Yes. Punch me, in the face." I gesture to my left cheek again. "Didn't you hear me?"
" I always hear 'punch me in the face' when you're speaking, but it's usually sub-text."
I sigh exasperated "Oh, for God's sakes."
I punch John in the face. As John grunts in pain and reels from the blow, I shake out my hand and then blows out a breath, bracing myself. John straightens up and immediately punches my. However, despite his anger – and his left-handedness – he does so right-handed and therefore strikes him on the left cheek just as I had indicated.
"Ow!"
Turning away as I pick myself up, I flex my hand painfully and examine my knuckles. I  finally straighten up, holding my fingers to the cut on my cheek. "Thank you. That was – that was ..." Still fighting right-handed, John punches me in the stomach, sending me crashing to the ground.

I doubled over in pain  with John on my back half–strangling me. John's face is contorted with pent-up anger and frustration, while I  struggle to pull his hands off me.
"Okay! I think we're done now, John." I tell him as I was half-choking
"You wanna remember, Sherlock, I was a soldier. I killed people."
"You were a doctor!" I correct him struggling in his grip.
"I had bad days!" he yelled as he continued to fight me. I didn't want to fight him, knowing Annie would be upset with me.

I press the intercom as it buzzes.
"Hello?" a woman answers. I stare into the camera wide-eyed and flustered. I talk in an anxious, tearful, posh voice and keeps looking around behind me as I speak trying to keep up with my disguise. "Ooh! Um, sorry to disturb you. Um, I've just been attacked, um, and, um, I think they ... they took my wallet and, um, and my phone. Umm, please could you help me?"

"I can phone the police if you want." she offers me.
I look into the camera tearfully. "Thank you, thank you! Could you, please?"
I take a step back and the camera now shows that my shirt is buttoned right up to the top and there is a piece of white plastic under the collar which makes me look like I am wearing the 'dog collar' of a vicar. I knew she would see it and pity me.
"Oh, would you ... would you mind if I just waited here, just until they come? Thank you. Thank you so much."
I clasp a handkerchief to my cheek, and start to grizzle pathetically. Grinning, She buzzes me in. I come in, followed by John.
Keeping in character "Thank you. " I  briefly looks around the large entrance hall. "Er, ooh!I – I saw it all happen. It's okay, I'm a doctor." John closes the door.

"Now, have you got a first aid kit?" John asks this woman.
"In the kitchen."
She gestures for me to go into the front room.
"Please."
"Oh! Thank you!" I scurry into the front room.
"Thank you." John follows the maid towards the kitchen.