The GirlfriendBy Nikkie Silk“It looks like Sam has a girlfriend at last.”“Huh, what?” My attention was fixed on the rugby on the TV and I really wasn’t paying attention to my wife.“I said, numbnuts, that a huge sinkhole has opened up in the high street and it’s swallowed the pub and all the customers.”“Oh, OK.” Rolling her eyes she said, “What did I just say?”The game was on a knife edge and I couldn’t tear myself away. “Er, you’re going to the pub?”A cushion thrown at my head finally got my attention, allowing her to grab the remote and mute the sound.“Oi, not fair, turn the sound back up.”“Stop watching the TV and listen to me for once. I said Sam has got a girlfriend.” “Sam? A girlfriend? How do you know?” I could watch the game over her shoulder.“As I came in just now, I saw a girl going into his flat. Nice looking lass by what I could see.”I turned away from the screen to look at her. “How do you know it’s a girlfriend?” “Women know these things. Trust me, it’s a girlfriend.” “Hmmph. Women’s intuition is BS.”She glanced at the TV. “By the way, someone just scored a try.”I locked back at the TV just as she flicked it off with the remote.“You witch, who was it?” I tried to grab the remote, but she giggled and hid it behind her back. She fell back on the sofa and I tickled her making her scream with laughter until she cried, “I give in.”Putting her arms around my neck she pulled me down into a kiss. She grinned. “If you’re really lucky, someone else might score.”***It was only later when the blood had returned to my brain from my groin that I remembered what she had said about Sam having a girlfriend. We lived on the first floor of a block of flats and Sam had the ground-floor flat beneath us. We had been here for a couple of years since we got married, and Sam must have moved in about a year after that. He seemed a nice enough guy: slender, softly spoken, polite, and a little shy. At our summer BBQ in the shared garden area we chatted about this and that the way you do at such parties. He told me he was a freelance writer and worked from home. Features stuff mainly, magazines and technical journals. He spent a long time talking to Sophie, my wife, and they seemed to hit it off. Apart from that one time, I saw him around the place a few times and we nodded and smiled at each other. I’m a police officer, and work what are euphemistically called unsocial hours. So, it’s not unusual for me to get home sometimes very late from a call out, and on those occasions I would sleep on the sofa bed rather than wake Sam. And so a few weeks after the girlfriend episode I came home in the early hours from a crime scene, dog tired, wanting only to crash out. As I walked from where I had parked my car I could see a light burning in Sam’s flat. I thought nothing of it, but as I drew level with his front door, I saw light spilling onto the path and I realised the door was open. A cop is by nature a nosy parker. We can’t help it. It may even be one of the reasons we get attracted to police work in the first place. Also, we’re trained to notice odd things, and Sam’s door being left open at 3 am was something I couldn’t just pass by. I stood by the door and listened. It was open by a couple of inches and I thought Sam might have forgotten to close it properly. I could hear nothing from inside and I debated with myself about simply closing the door and telling him in the morning to be more careful. Tired as I was, instinct or training told me I should check. I knocked on the door, “Sam, are you there?”Hearing nothing I knocked again, harder this time. “Sam, it’s Joe from upstairs. Are you OK?”The rattle of a distant tube train made me jump, but I thought I caught something else; a sound sensed more than heard. I strained to listen, but couldn’t hear anything at all, but all my instincts told me something was off. Pushing open the door a little more. I called out, “Sam, it’s Joe, I’m coming inside, you left your door open.”This time I heard it. Somewhere inside the flat someone groaned and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.I edged further into the flat, wondering if I should call for backup, but then if it turned out Sam had the flu or something, I would look really stupid. “Sam, where are you?” I had made it into the living room, and it seemed his flat had the same basic layout as ours. So, when I heard the next groan I knew it came from the bedroom. The door was ajar and as I eased it open I saw a woman in her underwear sprawled face down across the bed. Her ankles and wrists were tied with what looked like stockings and she appeared to be wearing a hood over her head. The first thought that leapt into my mind was that Sam had flipped, done this to his girlfriend and fled.“OK, love, I’m here, I’m from the police.You're safe now.”I quickly loosened the stockings tied around her wrists and ankles, and I could see she was breathing, taking in great gulps of air despite the black hood covering her head. I tried to undo it, but she kept shaking her head as if she didn’t want it taken off. She tried to say something but the words were muffled by the hood.“Listen, love, I’m with the police, you’re safe now. Just hold still and I’ll get this thing off your head.”She struggled a little more and I thought she must have been terrified to be tied up and hooded like this. “Keep still love, and I’ll have you out of this in a jiffy.”She stiffened and stopped struggling, finally accepting I thought that I was who I said, and that I wasn't going to harm her. There was a zip at the back of the hood and I quickly unzipped it and pulled it off her head. She rolled over and buried her face in the sheets on the bed. “It’s OK, it’s all over now. What’s your name and who did this to you?”She sighed and turned her face towards me for the first time, before saying “Unfortunately, Joe, it’s not really all over, is it?”I looked at her thinking I had seen her before somewhere, before it finally dawned on me that underneath the blonde wig was Sam.To be continued

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