Little Boy Blue

125

Emilia rubbed her hands together in a vain attempt to keep warm. She had lain in wait behind Southampton Central on numerous occasions, but had never found an effective way to keep warm. She was a naturally cold person – however many layers she wore, she could never stop her teeth chattering.

Tonight though, she didn’t mind one bit. Any personal discomfort she felt was forgotten – this night was her night, the crowning achievement of her professional life thus far. She had endured much over the years – parents who maltreated her, an acid attack that had permanently scarred her, endless mockery and abuse – but tonight she would show them all. She was about to break the story of the year – one that would make her career and finish another in the process.

She had made it down to Southampton’s main police station in record time. Sanderson’s text was to the point – ‘in custody. back entrance. 20 mins.’ – and Emilia had wasted no time, grabbing her camera and heading out of the door. There was a darkened doorway out the back which made perfect cover and she was poised there now, waiting for the tell-tale saloon. This was supposed to be a discreet, unpublicized entry to the station, but thanks to Sanderson it would be anything but. Perhaps Emilia had misjudged her – maybe she could be trusted to honour their deal.

Emilia checked her camera again. Battery level high, night exposure set, rapid fire mode on – then a sound made her look up. It was low but persistent, the sound of a car moving swiftly but quietly along the deserted street. Emilia readied herself.

Now the car swung into the alleyway behind the station and as if by magic the heavy rear doors started to creak open. The car swung round towards them, slowing slightly to allow a sufficient gap to open up. Emilia now stepped forward shooting quickly, grabbing as many photos as she could. She had timed it right, for seconds later the car disappeared inside, the doors clanging shut behind it.

Emilia stepped back into the shadows. Her article was ready to print, barring one small addition. Flicking the camera on to viewing mode, Emilia broke out into a smile. She had what she needed, her coup de grâce.

A shot of Helen Grace’s ashen face, staring out into the night.