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Chapter 10 - At Arm's Length

and leave the rest at arm's length
don't brush with him, he might have diseases
and leave the rest at arm's length
steer clear of the grasp, girl -- run, run, away

(Frightened Rabbit – Good Arms vs. Bad Arms)

Bella Swan

It was Saturday; the Tyne was glistening in the bright afternoon sun and I was walking towards the beautiful Bridge Café. It could've been a perfect day: Take a little walk at the riverside, get some coffee, perhaps read a book. I sighed. There was nothing like that for me today as I had an appointment coming up.

Even though the scenery was beautiful, it was ruined by a slight distraction - I felt strangely observed. I fumbled for the sunglasses in my bag, so no one would see the haunted expression in my eyes. My eyes fixed on the messy contents of my handbag for a moment and I almost tripped over my own feet. Same shit, different day. Annoyed with myself, I shoved the big black glasses onto my nose. I swear, I was becoming paranoid. Since I had gotten out of my car I had the constant feeling someone was watching me. Shooting sideway glances to nothing and nobody in particular, I kept walking nonetheless. I guess being involved in a murder somehow makes you edgy like that.

My short walk came to an end when I reached the Café. It was located right next to the High Level Bridge – a place providing stunning views of the river. I had been here before and always loved the friendly, cosy atmosphere. Since I was the first one to arrive, I choose to sit on the rear end of the outdoor terrace, where the tables weren't surrounded by too many neighbours. Sunglasses still on, I got settled at the table until a cracking noise coming from the hedges around the Café startled me. But as I looked up from the menu, all I saw was a small black cat hustling away from the bushes nearby. You're imagining things again, I thought.

However, there was no time to wonder about my paranoia any longer, when a clearly not imagined hand was placed on my shoulder. Fighting the urge to give a shriek with the sudden touch, I looked up, my glimpse leading me directly to James Barth's roguish face.

"James," I nodded, weakly smiling at him, desperately trying to find my journalistic confidence. He kept his hand on my shoulder a few seconds too long before he spoke.

"Did the sun heat up a hundred degrees or did you just smile at me?"

Ew. He really just said that, didn't he? Note to self: No more smiling.

"I appreciate that you could make it today." I ignored his lame-pick up line.

"It is my pure pleasure," he replied, taking the chair across from mine. Palsy-walsy people seriously make me sick. And this one in particular made me nervous too.

"Well, like I already told you on the phone, I'm still researching the Gateshead murder and I'd like to talk to you about it some more." He kept staring at me and I still tried to ignore him the best I could. I had to keep from him that I knew something was wrong.

"Why the hurry? Let's order something first." He called for the waiter and ordered himself a pint while I settled for coffee and a cinnamon crusted apple pie. The coffee reminded me of the morning with Edward. I couldn't help myself wondering what he would've ordered if he were here with me right now. Probably some Earl Grey; no Coffee for sure.

As the waiter left our table, I instantly proceeded to my original topic and got one of my notebooks out.

"How's the working atmosphere been at Gateshead most recently?"

"You're really on the ball, aren't you?" He was getting on my nerves, mostly because he was avoiding every topic I provided. I rolled my eyes, thankful for the sunglasses. I knew it was probably rude to wear them when your opponent didn't, but I decided I'd risk being rude in this case. My intention was to show as little as possible of myself to James Barth because he creeped me out. Surprisingly, my silence was enough to let him continue.

"Well, there probably wasn't any work done the last few days. Everyone was just trying to keep up with all the news and we were too shocked to go back to business as usual."

"Very understandable with the murder of a co-worker."

"Sure, everybody is grieving for Claire. But the shock is mostly about the boss being the murderer. I'm afraid that we all need to realise - and I'm sorry I have to express this - that Edward Cullen's high horse is in fact a very little pony."

I knew that this was serious, but I couldn't help myself. The image of Edward sitting on a cute little pony, appeared in my mind. When it transferred into Edward as a knight in shining armour on a real horse, I knew I definitely had to focus again.

Of course, James wasn't sorry at all about saying that. I bet he'd love to describe Edward with a lot worse terms if possible. Sometimes, I loved to do that, too. But here, in this moment, I felt rather defensive of myself and of Edward as well. There was definitely no need on my part to enlarge upon this topic any further.

"I'm writing my article more as an obituary for Claire. I don't want to mess with police investigations by writing about the murder itself right now."

And I really didn't want to mess with Edward's attempt to prove his innocence.

"You've talked to the police?" James asked with a blank face.

"Sure. You had to go and confirm your statement too, right?"

He nodded and then the waiter was back with our order. I ate a piece of the cake, which tasted okay, and took a sip of the really, really good coffee. James gazed at me the whole time, making me feel more and more awkward. I tried to distract him, and mostly myself, by asking him more questions about Claire. I learned nothing much, since their relation was rather superficial by what he told me, but she was really hard-working, a nice person and a great colleague. She'd worked at Gateshead for nearly four years, and with every word James said, she turned more and more into some kind of saint.

And of course with every word, Edward also turned more and more into the bad guy. When James had told Jacob and me this for the first time, he'd said Edward had a thing for Claire. Now it sounded like he was some kind of creepy stalker, ambushing Claire, trying to possess her.

I had enough of it and guessed that I already got everything that James was willing to tell me. Maybe my plan to talk to him once more didn't work out so great. I put my notes away and got my wallet out of my bag, which was lying on the empty chair next to me. I turned to signal the waiter that I wanted to pay and as I spun around again, James stretched out his hand, reaching for a strand of my hair, twisting it with his fingers.

Stop touching me!

"You know, you really should go to dinner with me."

The only one I was picturing myself on a date with was - and I was still confused with that fact - Edward. Not James. I sure as hell did not need to be closer to James. I wanted to be as far away as possible from wherever he and his hands were. To get me and my hair away from him, I leaned back and since the waiter was nowhere in sight, I just pulled out a note and put it on the table.

"Sorry, I'm just really busy right now. I have to go." I grabbed my wallet and tried not to run too obviously from the terrace. Once around the corner and out of sight, I took a deep breath and collected myself before I headed back to my car. I had parked it around the corner of Close Road, because as usual, I couldn't find an adequate parking space directly at the Café. I was about to get my keys out of my bag when I realised that there was no bag.

I was so screwed!

I had left my bag at the Café.

I walked back to the Café, careful not to run into James on the way. Thankfully, he was gone by the time I got there, but so was my bag. All my notes were in that bag, and if James took it -- I frowned at the thought.

"Excuse me Miss!" someone shouted from the bar. It was the waiter from earlier, waving with my bag in his hands.

Thank God!

I hurried towards him, thanked him and immediately opened the bag, looking for my keys and just checking, in general, for things. It was all still there: notes, mobile, chewing gum, random rubbish, but no keys. I told the guy that my keys were missing, but he just shrugged and told me he had picked the bag up from the chair, not opening it.

Would James...?

No, I told myself. If he had noticed my bag, he would have taken the whole thing to approach me once more for sure. I got back to the table and looked on the ground, hoping I had maybe just dropped the keys. But I found nothing. Shit.

Could I have lost my car keys? The last time I was sure I still had them was when I locked my car earlier getting here. So they had to be somewhere between my car and here, right? Right. Just in case they might find anything, I left my number at the Café and traced my way back to my car, eyes glued to the floor.

I was getting depressed – if I didn't find the key, I'd have to get the spare key, which was of course at my apartment, to which I, of course, no longer had a key to because all my keys were on the same bunch. My dad was the only one with a replacement key to my apartment, so I would have to call him and let him get it. I was just figuring out how I would explain this to him when I realised something and came to a dead stop instantly.

My car was gone.

My car was gone!!!

A perfectly empty parking space was now where my car had been before. I jogged up and down the street to make sure I hadn't mistaken this. But still, my car was gone.

First I lose my keys, and then my car gets stolen?

Am I one damn lucky woman, or what?

I sank to the curbside, defeated. There were a lot of nice cars parked in the street. The thief must have been really, really dumb to take my old piece-of-shit car. After a few moments of wallowing in self-pity, I got back on my feet and headed for the police headquarters.

The sun was still beaming from the sky, but I couldn't find anything beautiful in it anymore. And then, a few minutes later, my phone rang.

chapter end notes:

We don't know if there's an actual Bridge Café in Newcastle, but you have to love the riverside shining in the sun.

The high horse that is in fact a pony is a great quote from Frightened Rabbit.