Chapter 25

With one hand over her mouth, Keats pushed Molly a little further into the room.

"My baby girl," Alex whispered, her eyes glistening with tears, "Molly, sweetheart, what has he done to you?"

"You don't need to worry about that," said Keats, "she's been well looked after."

"What kind of bastard trick is this?" Gene narrowed his eyes at Keats.

"No trick," Keats said innocently.

"But how…" Alex whispered, "how is this possible?"

She took a step forward, a second away from launching herself at Molly with a warm embrace, but Keats held up a hand to halt her.

"Stay where you are," he said.

"Mummy," Molly cried, her mouth finally free, "is it really you?"

Alex's heart melted into a pool of hope and love at the sound of her daughter's voice.

"Yes," she gasped, "yes darling, it's me."

Gene shook his head.

"Don't listen to him, Bols," he growled.

Alex stared at Keats.

"How?" she whispered again, "how is this possible? Why is she here?"

"She was dead before you were, Alex," said Keats.

Alex's heart dropped like a lead balloon.

"What?"

"Do you remember a gunshot?" Keats asked.

"What, when?" Alex couldn't think straight.

"Arthur Layton," Keats continued, "he took your precious little girl. Do you remember? And then there was a gunshot. And you ran…"

"And Molly ran back out from under…" Alex trailed off.

"Are you absolutely sure that's how things happened?" Keats asked.

"I… Yes, yes I am, Alex shook her head to dispel the doubts, "and then Evan took her home and I got in my car."

"Molly died," said Keats, "under the pier."

"No," Alex shook her head furiously, "Evan took her… he's taking care of her…"

"Mummy, he shot me," Molly's eyes were full of tears.

"No… no, Molly, no…"

"You got straight into your car to trail Layton," Keats told her, "you were like a crazy woman, but unfortunately for you he was a crazy man and he was already behind you, on the backseat."

"Yes, yes, and I got shot," Alex dismissed, "I have played this through a thousand times in my mind, I know what happened…"

"You forgot, Mummy," Molly said quietly, "you had to forget."

"Bolly, it's a lie," Gene told her, "don't listen to Keats. He's making you see what you want to see but it's just an illusion."

"I'm not listening to Keats," whispered Alex, "I'm listening to my daughter."

"You blocked it out," Keats explained, "when you came here the memory was too fresh, too painful, you completely blocked it from your memory. You couldn't cope knowing what had happened so your mind made up a new scenario. You were in a world that was all about putting your demons to rest so it didn't matter."

"Mummy, I've been waiting here for you," Molly said quietly.

"It's not true," said Gene.

"I told you I could take you to Molly," said Keats, "I gave you her scarf to prove it, but you didn't believe me you believed him. And where did it get you? Hmm? Back in limbo with no prospects, refusing to move on because you've fallen under the spell of some macho dinosaur."

"Gene is a man," Alex spat, "which is more than you'll ever be."

"I thought I proved my manhood to you earlier," said Keats.

Gene frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped.

"Getting people under the influence of nitrous oxide gives him a boner aparently," spat Alex. She paused. "Wait a minute… this room was full of laughing gas. Why weren't you affected?"

"There was no laughing gas, Alex," sighed Keats, "you're just using it as an excuse for your behaviour."

"What behaviour?" Scowled Gene.

"Nothing," Alex flushed, "it made me dizzy. I felt drunk."

"Tell him the rest" smiled Keats.

"There's nothing else to tell!" cried Alex, "I did nothing."

"You were waiting for me to kiss you," Keats breathed, savouring the delicious memory, "your eyes were closed, your lips were just waiting for me."

Alex saw Gene's eyes widen. A chronic case of guilt overtook her.

"I… did… nothing," she hissed again, "I was woozy, I couldn't think or act, I was sitting in a stupor. I was in no state to either kiss or to fight off a kiss. I couldn't do a thing."

Gene looked at Alex, He saw her face full of confusion and sorrow. He looked to Keats and saw the most smug, slimy expression he'd ever witnessed. He thought carefully for a while before drawing in a deep breath.

"If the only way," he began, "that you can keep a girl still long enough to kiss them is to gas them with the funny stuff first then I'm guessing Little Jimbo doesn't get to see a lot of action. You must need cyanide to do the trick when he wants to go for a walk in the pink park."

"Ironic you should say that since you've shacked up with a dead woman," Keats sneered.

Alex stared at Molly, the daughter she'd fought so hard to get back to. A part of her wanted to run to her, tear her from Keats' grasp, take her far away and hug her tightly. But something was stopping her.

"That scarf," she whispered. She looked Keats right in the eye. "When I walked into the Railway Arms, it vanished."

Keats froze.

"What?"

"It vanished," Alex repeated, "it wasn't real. It just disappeared slowly until there was nothing left in my hands."

Keats gave a nervous cough.

"Maybe you can't take material possessions into heaven," he said the word mockingly.

"If you couldn't then we'd all have been naked," said Alex. She flinched at the thought of a naked Ray propping up the bar. "It wasn't real. The scarf wasn't real."

"Look at Molly" said Keats, "look at her! Are you trying to tell me her tears aren't real?"

He shook her a little and her face crumbled into proper sobs. Alex's own eyes spilled over as she watched.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Molly, but… you're… not… real. It's not you."

"Mummy, don't say that!" wept Molly.

Alex shook her head.

"I heard you by my bedside," Alex whispered, "talking to me in hospital. I saw your bag beside me in my room when I died. How would it get there if you weren't there too?" she choked back tears. She had to focus on the fact that Molly wasn't real. "You're not really here, Molly. And as much as I love you… and I desperately, desperately want to see you again…" she shook her head "this isn't the time. Because you're not really here. And maybe one day you'll decide to follow in my footsteps and join the force… and maybe one day there'll be an Arthur Layton who'll send you to this place… and when that happens I'll be waiting, with open arms. But this… this isn't you."

Molly's form began to flicker. Like interference on a TV screen it seemed to break down and look a little fuzzy. Keats looked desperately at Alex.

"What more do you want, Alex?" he demanded, "I've brought you Molly! Does it matter whether she's real or not? I'm giving you your daughter back!"

Alex shook her head.

"No you're not," she whispered, "you're giving me an impossible illusion. I don't want to spend any more time pursuing a life that isn't real. I have my role here. I know what that is. My heart breaks every day when I think about my little girl," she began to choke up, "but this is not my little girl."

Molly began to fade.

"Mummy, please…" she whispered.

Alex's tears began to fall hard and fast.

" I'm sorry, Molly" she whispered. As the illusion of her daughter faded to thin air she blew her the gentlest kiss and hoped inside that, somehow, her daughter might really catch it.

Keats glared at gene and Alex, his anger boiling over. Alex feared he was reaching the hissing, spitting stage again.

"Give it up, Keats," Gene stepped forward, "it's over."

"I don't know what more I can do for you!" Keats screamed at Alex, "I showed you lover-boy was just a corpse in a field but you still want to bounce on his dead wood! I give you a promotion and a whole department to run, and you want to stay in CID. I bring you back your daughter and just because she's not… quite… the authentic one you knock me back!"

"You're mad, Keats," Alex hissed, "all you've done if offer me some kind of freak show."

"Why is Alex so important to you, anyway?" Gene demanded, "why are you so desperate to get her onside? Just want to get in her knickers or is it more than that?"

Keats leaned threateningly close to Gene.

"She's your lynchpin," he hissed.

"Can we not talk about construction?"

"She's holding you up" said Keats, "without her your world will start falling apart."

"I can hold me own world up very well, thank you," said Gene.

"That's why I was moved out of CID," whispered Alex.

"And you'd have gotten away with it if it wasn't for those pesky kids," Gene took his gloves off slowly and dropped them onto Keats' desk.

"Your world is still falling apart," Keats told him, "I was just speeding up the process."

Gene shook his head.

"My world's stronger than ever," he said, "the sheriff has got a deputy now. It's your world that's fallen apart."

"You're wrong."

"Oh am I?" cried Gene, "shall we see how rock-solid the ground you walk on is?" He grasped Keats' typewriter and lifted it up in the air.

"What are you doing?" cried Keats, scared for the safety of his precious typewriter.

"Just repaying the favour," hissed Gene, and with one swift, hard action brought the typewriter crashing down to the floor.

Keats' domain began to smoulder.