Read Forward Slash for Free Online

Katherine, and Amy had spoken to her at some length about jewellery-making, Katherine’s hobby. Amy had been trying to get her to write a piece for the website. She was the obvious first port of call.
    Amy dialled Katherine’s number, hoping she hadn’t gone away on holiday.
    She answered after just a few rings. ‘Hello?’
    ‘Hi – is that Katherine?’
    The other woman paused before answering. ‘Yes?’
    ‘This is Amy – Becky’s sister.’
    Katherine’s tone changed. ‘Oh, hello. Is everything all right?’
    ‘I just wondered if you’d heard from Becky recently?’
    ‘No, I haven’t spoken to her since Wednesday, when we broke up. You’re making me worry. What’s happened?’
    Amy was about to launch into it when she realized it would be much easier face to face, so she could show Katherine the email. Besides, she wanted to get out of the flat. It was making her feel even more antsy than she would otherwise, with every noise in the hallway making her jump; the hope that it was Becky coming back and then the return of the dread and disappointment when it wasn’t.
    ‘Can I come and see you?’
    Katherine agreed, though Amy detected a hint of hesitation in her voice. Tough, she thought, leaving the flat and taking the spare keys with her. As she walked down the stairs, pressing down the helmet on her head en route, a door opened on the ground floor. ‘Er – hello!’ called a man’s voice. ‘Miss Coltman! Could I have a word?’
    Amy stopped, surprised, her helmet as far down as her eyebrows. The man was in his forties, and very square – she could clearly see the vest through his blue nylon short-sleeved shirt. His thick brown hairline grew unattractively low on his forehead.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Yes. I need to talk to you again about the complaints we’ve had about noise levels coming from your … oh! I’m so sorry. I thought you were Miss Coltman.’
    He squinted myopically at her and she lifted the helmet clear of her ears again so she could hear him better.
    ‘I
am
Miss Coltman – but I’m Amy, not Becky. Becky’s my sister.’
    The man laughed in an embarrassed sort of way. ‘I do beg your pardon! You look so alike!’ He thrust out his hand. ‘I’m Damian Fenton, head of the Residents’ Association.’
    ‘Hi,’ Amy said, shaking it. It was clammy and felt like uncooked dough. ‘People do say we look similar, although I can’t see it, beyond the blonde hair. Have you seen Becky lately? I can’t get hold of her.’
    Damian pondered. ‘No, I’m afraid I haven’t. Not since … ooh … must have been last Tuesday? Yes, Tuesday, because that’s bin day, and I had to have a word with her about the fact that she always leaves the tops on when she puts milk containers in her recycling, and they don’t like that. And she has a bit of a naughty habit of putting plastic trays in too, and they
really
don’t like that, they’re supposed to go in—’
    Amy looked at her watch. ‘I’m so sorry, Damian, I don’t mean to cut you off, but I’m late for seeing someone and I really need to get going, otherwise …’ She grimaced conspiratorially at him, having the feeling that unless she said something, he’d be in full flow for hours.
    ‘Right! No, no, I understand, I could talk till the cows come home, me. I do apologize. When you track your sister down, could you please ask her to pop down and have a word? Many thanks.’
    He shot abruptly back into his flat before Amy could say anything else. She made a note of his flat number, thinking that a busybody like him might come in handy at some point.
    Five minutes later, she was back on her bike, heading away from Becky’s flat down Herne Hill towards Brockwell Park. Katherine lived at the cheaper end of Norwood Road, the only end where a teacher could afford to buy. When Amy moved to London after leaving university, to take her first lowly job as a marketing executive at a publishing house, Becky had spent several weekends with her sister