Singing softly, Demi poured the boiling water into the mug, pulling the string of the teabag in time with her song, glancing across at Rina who was buried up to her eyeballs in boxes of tissues.
"So much for us having a sisterly night out." She murmured, as the redhead released another sneeze, snagging a wad of toilet paper and blowing her nose indignantly at her sister.
"I didn't ask to get a cold." Rina complained muffledly, her eyes red-rimmed from watering so much. Rubbing her eyes, she looked at her sister curiously. "Where did you run off to, this morning?"
Handing Rina the mug of tea, Demi dropped into the seat, trying to fight back the burning tears that had been threatening to overwhelm her since she got back from the hospital.
"Demi? Whats wrong?" Leaning across the table, she took her sister's ice-cold hands in hers. "What happened?"
"You'll think I'm crazy..." Demi mumbled, staring down at the smooth surface of the table, a tear trickling down her cheek slowly. "But I think someone wants to kill me..."
The silence that fell was only broken by the rustling of Rina's duvet, as she stumbled to her feet and shambled around the table, hugging her sister tightly. "And I believe you." She murmured raspingly.
Throwing her arms around her sister's waist, Demi swallowed a painful sob, her hot face burying against the comforting warmth of her sister's body. "I'm so scared, Rina." She whispered. "I don't want anyone to hurt us..."
"I know, Dem." Rina stroked her hair gently. "I know."
*
His body crouched over Annie's, Menke tensed his muscles, his eyes pressed shut, waiting for the explosion.
The explosion that never came.
There was a dull "whoompf" from the box, a brief scent of burning, a muffled crackling hiss and then nothing. Silence.
Opening one eye, his body still taut, he glanced nervously over his shoulder.
Straightening up, all the air in his lungs rushed out in a relieved gasp of air, as he slumped against the door, his eyes closed with relief, his entire frame trembling. "I never want to go through that again..." He mumbled through white lips.
"What the hell was it?" Annie managed to whisper, her face white as she sank down beside him, shakily grasping his hand for reassurance.
Shrugging, his face blank, he swallowed hard. "I'm not sure..." He pushed himself to his feet slowly, still trembling, and approached the desk uneasily, staring at the ruined, charred box and the doll within.
The little figure's body had blown into six neat sections, a coil of paper protruding from a hole in the centre of the neck.
Tentatively, Menke shook the ash from the box off the broken piece of grey- and black-striped torso, his quivering fingers carefully pulling the scrap of rolled-up paper and unrolling it shakily.
Stumbling to her feet, Annie leaned against the wall behind her, still shaking as much as he was. "What is that?" She asked softly.
Reading outloud, Menke felt a chill run down his spine. "Not everyone loves Munkustrap." He read out loud, squinting at the scrawled writing. "Next time, you won't be so lucky."
"Sick bastard." Annie managed to say, running her fingers uneasily through her cropped hair. "What are you gonna do?"
"Do you think I should call the police?" He asked, slowly turning over the remains in his hands. "I mean now....cos the show starts in twenty minutes...I don't want to disrupt anything..."
Squeezing his muscular shoulder, Annie sighed uncertainly. "Its up to you, but I think you should at least contact them...I mean, you could see them after the show, straight away..."
Nodding, Menke laid the little figure down as the door swung easily open and Philip Tenant – Menke's closest friend on the cast and his main understudy – sauntered in, whistling, his hands jammed in his pockets.
"Damn, I was hoping you woulda gone to your maker now." He grinned jokingly at Menke's back, noticing the sudden tensing in his bare shoulders, as Annie muffled a sharp cry. "What did I say?"
"Only this." Menke didn't look back as he held out the scrap of paper, his hard eyes fixed on the desk, his mucles standing out like ridges on his back, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the edge of the desk, his jaw tight.
Philip scanned the paper, a look of sick horror spreading across his face. "Who the hell did this? Is it meant to be some kind of sick joke?"
Running one hand through his hair, Menke turned round, sitting on the edge of the desk, folding his arms across his chest. "I don't know, Phil." He replied honestly. "I just don't know..."
"You gonna be okay?" Philip's concern was apparent.
"Don't think you're gonna take my role, just like that." Menke pushed himself upright, wagging a finger at Philip with a smile that seemed almost natural, only his eyes were shadowed. "I'm Munkustrap tonight, so there!"
"Typical!" With a huff of indignation, Philip smacked Menke on the arm. "You always have to spoil my fun, don't you?"
Glancing at Annie, Menke noticed her tense expression and promptly pulled her into a reassuring hug against his warm chest. "You gonna be okay?"
Nodding weakly, Annie grinned nervously up at him. "I think so." She replied with an uneasy giggle.
Sitting down at the desk, Philip started sponging white and grey make-up onto his face, whistling.
"What do you think you're doing?" Menke quirked an eyebrow.
Shrugging, the younger dancer flashed him a cheeky grin. "It doesn't hurt to be prepared." He retorted, carefully applying stripes neatly to his face and deftly brushing narrow lines around his brown eyes.
"Two Munkustraps..." Annie's face split into a grin. "How on earth can I cope?"
Adding the finishing touches, Philip turned around with a grin. "I dread to think... wait til you see us in costume together..." He glanced up at Menke. "Don't we look wonderful, darling?"
"As ever." Menke agreed, grinning down at his double.
*
Testing the soup, Demi grimaced, hastily shaking a overdose of herbs over the surface to disguise the flavour, before carefully lifting to bowl and walking over to the couch, where Rina lay.
Peering out from beneath her duvet, Rina sniffed muffledly, blinking her bleary eyes at Demi. "Wassat?"
"Some soup to keep your strength up."
"Did you say soup or poop?" Rina mumbled, rubbing her eyes as her sister perched lightly on the edge of the coffee table and proferred the bowl of steaming, curdled liquid, lumps of...something floating just under the surface.
"Don't cheek me young lady." Demi gave her a wan smile. "I had other stuff on my mind, over making soup."
Nodding sympathetically, one of Rina's icy hands poked out from the duvet and squeezed Demi's gently. "Are you going to call the police, Dem? I think you should..."
"I...I'm going to talk to Menke about it first..." Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, Demi released a sigh. "This is something that...well...if they do anything...it would affect both of us...a lot..."
"All of us." Rina murmured with a reassuring smile. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, sis."
Throwing her arms impulsively around her sister, Demi forced back the tears she felt brimming in her eyes. Sappy twat, she muttered to herself, burying her face in Rina's thick hair. "You know, kid...you're the best sister anyone could have."
"I would agree," Rina mumbled, tugging Demi's braid. "Only, you keep trying to poison me with that god-awful stuff you call...soup..."
"Cheeky madam!" Pulling back, she grinned at her sister, glad that the red-haired wonder had always been able to cheer her up. "Care to watch a video?"
Shrugging, Rina grinned. "I guess so...since we're not going to be going anywhere tonight at this rate..."
"A night in for the girls." Mussing her sister's red mane, Demi laughed softly. "The hubby'll be in the opening of his performance now...Just perfect...some peace and quiet and time for girly goss! And NO Menke!"
Hi-fiving her dark-haired, elder sister, Rina grinned. "This is going to be a night to remember, I betcha."
*
Outside of the theatre, the sinister figure gave a cruel chuckle. He could faintly hear the music of the 'Overture' playing within the theatre. It was time for his plan to fall into place.
*
Racing back onstage after the Macavity duet, Menke leapt back a pace as Demeter and Bombalurina raced to the edge of the stage, his mind still wandering back to the event a few hours previously. It had been on his mind through the entire show.
It had all been too much...almost. And he'd only told two of his closest friends in the cast – ironically Macavity and his double – then called the police and asked them to come to the theatre after the show.
His friends had asked the same questions as he had: How had the bomb gotten into the theatre in the first place? No one had been seen or heard entering or leaving the building aside from people with passes.
Moving forward to greet Nicky Murphy in his Macavity-as-Old-Deuteronomy disguise, lines from the previous song thundered through his head... "He's a Master Criminal who can defy the law...when they reach the scene of crime, Macavity's not there..."
Whirling to see the undisguised Nicky lunge at Hayley – the cast's current Demeter, Menke felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach, the colour flooding from his face.
"Christ! NO!" Suddenly it all made sense. Everything that had happened to him. Everything that Demi had said. It all made sense.
Sprinting across the stage, he leapt over the crouching figure of Jennyanydots, his feet barely touching the ground as he raced down the ramp, leaving the cast staring after him in astonishment.
Stumbling up the stairs, his legs suddenly unable to hold his weight, he fell against his desk, groping for his mobile and hastily opening it, his hands trembling so much he was barely able to dial.
"C'mon, Demi...answer...please...answer, darli..."
"Y'ello?" Her familiar voice rang down the line.
"Dem...thank god." He breathed, sinking to the floor.
"Munk? What is it? Whats wrong?"
Swallowing hard, he urgently spoke. "Dem, listen to me...you have to get out of the house! Please...get out NOW!" She tried to interrupt but he was having none of it, the tension shattering his reason as he yelled. "Dem! Get the hell out of the house! He's coming for you! You have to get to sa..."
An ominous crash at the other end of the line made him jump.
"Dem?"
The single scream that shattered the silence that had fallen made his skin crawl. His wife's voice in a ringing, terrified voice – "McCAFFERTY!" – echoed by mocking cold laughter, then the line went dead.
"Dem? DEM?" Frantically redialling, he was met by a dull flat tone. "NO!" Snapping around, he snatched his carkeys just as Philip ran in, worry on his face.
"Menke? What the hell do you think your playing at?"
"Demi." He mumbled, scalding tears brimming down his face as he pushed passed Philip and started down the flights of stairs a full-speed, muttering, "I'm comin', Dem, I'm comin'!"
"Menke?" Glancing towards the stage, the Munkustrap-garbed actor sighed. Might as well finish ruining the show, he mused, sprinting off down the stairs after Menke, the Stage Door slowly swinging shut as he reached the bottom.
Following the pair of stagehands pointing fingers, he burst out of the door, running full-pelt into the railing.
Staring around hopelessly, he leapt back with a curse, just in time to avoid being hit by the wing mirror of Menke's familiar silver BMW as it screeched around the corner, smashing into several bins and skidding to an abrupt halt.
Waving frantically, Philip started to run up the narrow road. "Menke! Wait! Menke! The show!"
"Screw the show!" The actor yelled back, jamming the accelerator to the floor, his face was a taut and desperate mask as he sped away, still repeating. "I'm comin' Dem, I'm comin'..."
*
"I'm going to kill that stupid basta..."
"Hayley!" As the slim dancer stormed into her dressing room, tearing her wig off and viciously slamming it on the table, she swung to face her compatriot. "Hayl, something bad must've happened to make him go crazy like that..."
"It'll be worse when I see him." She snarled, slamming her palms on the desk in frustration. "Disappearing in the middle of the bloody show!"
"Mike's gonna be bad enough." Sylvie murmured, carefully moving her Bombalurina wig. "He doesn't need you yelling at him too."
Leaning heavily on her hands, Hayley released a slow sigh. "I love that guy, but thi... this is the last straw. Mike'll want rid of him now, no matter the excuse."
"That's the truth." Whirling around, they found Mike – Coricopat – standing in the doorway, his expression as black as thunder.
"He had a bloody good reason." Philip walked in angrily, his fists firmly balled on his hips. "You can't get rid of him...he was born to be Munkustrap."
"Good reason or not, the son of a bitch is out of order." Shrugging, Mike glared up at Philip. "He put himself into that situation, no turning back..." He paused to stare pointedly at the substitute Munkustrap. "And anyone who gets in the way can just go with him."
A massive hand clamped on the dance captain's shoulder, spinning him around in time to see the fist that sent him crashing against the wall, crushing his nose like an overripe fruit, a spurt of blood gushing from his nostrils.
Raising a hand, Mike glanced down at the blood steadily dripping into his palm, raising eyes full of rage and pain to stare at the panting Nicky who towered him, his eyes never leaving Mike's.
"What the he...?"
"Don't you care that Menke was almost killed today?" The tall, actor-dancer growled, his hands still curled in fists at his sides. "The poor sod coulda died and now you wanna sack him?"
"Killed?" Hayley's mouth suddenly felt dry.
Twisting his warmer around his hand, Philip whispered, barely audibley, shaking his head numbly. "Something happened to Demi...that's why he ran..."
"What do you mean 'something'?" Stumbling to his feet, Mike grabbed a handful of tissues, his voice muffled.
"No clue." Sinking down in a seat, Philip sighed sadly. "I hope to god nothing's happened to her...or him. They don't deserve it...not at all..."
*
Tears of rage and pain burning in his eyes, Menke zig-zagged through the familiar streets and traffic, hitting the accelerator as soon as he hit the stretch of motorway, his heart thumping agonisingly against his ribs.
Dialling 999 on his mobile, he furiously slammed his palms against the steering wheel with an angry shout. Trust his phone to die right now. Just when he needed it the most!
He would get there in time. He just had to. He couldn't lose her. Not again. Not the same way. He couldn't.
*
I don't know how long I'd been lying there. Sprawled out on the cold, stone steps like carelessly tossed aside ragdoll. I just know I opened my eyes and found myself sprawled on the flagstones.
My first thoughts were immediately for Demi. Who had the shadowy, faceless men been? What had they done to my sister?
Then – of course – the pain decided to remind me just why I didn't know where my sister was. How...nice of it. It snuck up from behind as I tried to rise and hit me. Hit me...that's a loose term. Flattened me. Played the proverbial steamroller and squashed me face-down against the ground again.
I'd never felt anything like it. Never wanted to before or after, either.
But I had to find her, even with a steamroller parked on top of me. I knew I had to help her. I knew no one else could.
Ignoring the lances of pain that were stabbing at every inch of my body and against my better judgement, I forced myself to my feet, almost collapsing as my ankle went the opposite direction from my foot.
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhheesh, that hurt!
Still, I somehow managed to stay upright. The pain unimportant. I wanted to find Demi. She was in trouble again, like when we were kids. I always helped her then. I sure as hell wasn't gonna give up on her now.
Limping into the house, to the phone – sensible idea for an airhead like me, huh? – I stopped short in shock. Everything was utterly smashed, wrecked or torn beyond recognition.
Only one thing remained in place: The wedding portrait Annie Lawson had done for them...marred by horrifying claw marks, Menke's face torn away completely.
Stumbling back, I tripped over the telephone. Surely I could call for help...no such luck. The dead tone of the phone chilled me. I had to get help. I needed to get Menke. The police. Demi needed us.
Shuffling out the front door, I know Demi's ford is in the garage...or – at least – it was, until they kindly torched it. Hell! Anyone would think they wanted me to die quietly! Not a snowball's chance in hell! They obviously don't know me.
Thinking on it, its typical, you know. My one week off and I end up probably ending my career in an unacknowledged piece of self-sacrifice. Hehe. Me...I deserve a medal.
Ah well, if I do myself a little bit more damage, it won't matter. I'm gonna walk out of here. I'm gonna get help if it kills me.
*
Drumming his finger impatiently on the steering wheel, menke almost shouted with relief as the traffic shifted and he wheeled into his turn-off, the tyres screeching.
Slamming the accelerator flat against the floor, he sped as if he had demons on his tail, the wind streaming through the window, whipping his hair into a frenzy, his eyes so fiercely focussed on the road ahead, he was oblivious to all around him, even the flashing blue light behind him as he swung sharply, avoiding a near collision at the intersection.
Spinning the steering wheel, he swung into the long road running up towards the house he shared with Demi and Rina.
"What the...?" Hitting the brakes, several ribs snapped as he was flung against the wheel, but he ignore them and stumbled out of the car, running to the figure who collapsed in the road. "Rina?"
"Menk.." He could barely make out her words, her face a battered mess, almost unrecognisable, her body beaten and broken "They...they took...her..."
The two policeman who had been trailing Menke approached, staring down – bemused – at the pair, as the wigless, costumed CATS actor gently gathered his sister-in-law gently in his arms, tears streaking his make-up.
"Don't just stand there!" He rasped bitterly. "Get a bloody ambulance!"
"Menk..." Rina's swollen eyes turned to him.
"Don't speak, Rina..." He stroked her cheek gently, whispering reassuringly. "You'll be okay, Ri...you will..."
"If I die..."
"You're not going to die!" He protested.
"If I do..." She repeated weakly. "Tell Dem I...I love her." He nodded wordlessly. "And do something...for me..."
"Ambulance on its way." One of the policemen put in awkwardly.
Ignoring him, Menke nodded. "Anything, Rina."
"Get the bastard for me." She breathed harshly. "Make him pay." She shuddered, slumping against him, silent.
"I will, Rina." He held her close, pressing his eyes shut as tears streamed freely down his face. "I swear on my life that he won't get away with this...not this time. Not again."