I Know My Job

Written for Thursday Inspiration #157

I know my job, losing Graham hasn’t change that.

Listening to the constant chatter on the streets, something links his death, to my story.

It is like Chinese whispers – one person saying something, which is told to another person, who was found dead in an alley. Scott, so young, never did get to escape. The money we gave him, urging him to buy drugs to forget.

‘The police say it was an accident,’ Richard says.

‘Another accident, well that’s a surprise,’ I say, pushing back my chair. ‘Just because he was an addict, doesn’t mean someone didn’t murder him.’

My last meeting constantly on my mind, in a restaurant, on the outskirts of Slough, I cannot stop feeling guilty. A lorry stop, but quiet enough for a conversation. Especially with someone who had a right to be scared. His revelation not much on its own, but placing an important puzzle piece on a board loaded with questions.

I massage my temples, my migraine getting worse. Not just that, but since Graham died, since our motorbike lost control, there is something wrong. Flashes of light, and my peripheral vision is losing clarity.

I should see the doctor, but this isn’t just my life on the line.

‘Richard, you can’t believe what happened to Scott was an accident?’

‘No, of course I don’t, and I haven’t stopped looking into his overdose. ‘

‘Then, I want to go to St Ives,’ I say. ‘I know Graham’s death, Scott, they’re all linked. Nobody knows this story like I do. ‘

‘You’ve been through so much Sarah, we’ve got other people we can send . . .’

‘Not with my understanding of the story. First Graham, now Scott. Who has to die next for anything to be done. Please Richard, he was your friend too.’

Richard takes a deep breath. ‘Okay, but you need to be careful Sarah, I don’t want to be responsible for another life.’