Astrid had loved clothes from an early age, when she’d experimented with dressing up using her mother’s outfits, parading in front of the mirror before her parents convinced her she was ugly. This was when she was still young enough to believe adults would look after her. So she raided her mother’s wardrobe, wearing things which were far too big for her, and far too plain and dull. Her mother’s tastes in what to wear were like her views on the world: ultra-conservative, more utilitarian than fashionable. It was only when Astrid started shoplifting in her teenage years that she expressed her creativity.
‘Do you want underwear first, Laurel?’
She dragged her new partner towards the lingerie department. A glittering infectious smile jumped from her face and on to Laurel, whose skin was warm against Astrid’s hand.
Laurel laughed. ‘Always start at the bottom.’
‘Is this too fancy for you?’
Astrid smirked; the accelerated beat of her thoughts fluttered between sorting clothes for Laurel and what they’d find at George’s house. She tried not to think of Olivia too much. Dwelling on whether her sister was in contact with their father was too distressing.
‘Too much choice,’ Laurel laughed.
Supermarket music bounced off the walls, and Astrid cringed at the retail choice of dull pop tunes.
‘Just for once, I’d love to go into a shop and hear something decent coming from the speakers.’ She kept an eye out for security guards. ‘Anything by Bowie would do.’
Music had got her through a traumatic childhood. When those memories crawled from the shadows in her head, of her mother holding her down while Lawrence whipped her, Astrid reached into her favourite jukebox to listen to Diamond Dogs or Station to Station. If the scars returned with too much intensity, she killed the pain with the Stooges or the Velvet Underground. Then his slobbering face and her manic glee disappeared into nothing. But nothing could erase the image of Courtney standing in the doorway watching her suffering. At first, Astrid assumed her sister had no choice, that their parents were punishing her as well by making Courtney watch, until she saw the smile on her sister’s face and realised how much she enjoyed Astrid’s pain. It wasn’t long afterwards she discovered the lies her sister told their parents to get her into trouble.
‘I had a job in a supermarket once.’ Laurel’s voice dragged her back from the abyss. ‘All the staff had to dress up in light blue uniforms like Smurfs.’ Astrid took the image and imprinted it over the one of Courtney’s grin. ‘I crept into the office one day and changed the piped music for something of my own.’
Astrid smiled at her. ‘I’m betting you were a goth when you were younger.’ She imagined her all in black.
Laurel laughed again. ‘Not quite, but I managed to clear the shop of customers and get fired because I changed the music to The Queen is Dead by the Smiths.’
Astrid clutched on to her stomach to stop herself laughing too much; it would be foolish to draw attention to themselves now. She checked the rest of the store; afternoon shoppers and bored teenagers filled the place. She pushed through them all, dragging Laurel to the changing room to discard the clothes which infuriated them both.
She touched Laurel’s wrist. ‘You go first.’ She expected a rebuttal, but received a tender smile instead.
‘You do know how to spoil a girl.’ Laurel slipped behind the curtain.
‘You don’t know the half of it.’
Astrid considered how quickly things had changed between them, from Laurel locking her in an Agency cell only yesterday to waiting outside a changing room while the rookie selected new clothes.
An old woman scowled at her before scurrying away to pay for some awful outfits she clutched underneath her arms. Astrid stared at the bottom of the changing booth, peering at Laurel’s delicate ankles as she removed her trousers. All the problems stacked up inside her head shifted to one side as she imagined Agent Laurel Lee slipping into her new underwear. It was a brief moment of imaginary joy swept away by the flickering red light of the security camera above her head.
It’s worth the risk.
She counted on Agency incompetence stopping them alerting local law enforcement about her escape.
‘I wonder what Frank would think of our little shopping spree,’ Laurel shouted from the other side of the curtain.
‘He’d be fuming.’ Astrid grinned. ‘Upset because he wasn’t amongst the lingerie with us.’
They burst out laughing in stereo, Astrid imaging a life beyond her current predicament where it could be like this all the time.
‘Are you waiting to use this cubicle?’
The voice was close to her shoulder, its owner’s shadow falling over her head, providing an ominous creeping presence across the floor. She didn’t bother to stand, twisting her neck to one side to stare into the weather-beaten face of shop security. Just behind him lurked the scowling woman, shaking her head and pointing at Astrid.
‘There’s no hanky-panky going on if that’s what you’re thinking.’
She gave him her widest smile, all flashing teeth and sparkling eyes. The temperature was cool in the shops, yet droplets of sweat ran down his forehead and into his eyes.
‘Oooffff course,’ he stuttered.
‘You must have filthy thoughts.’ She smiled at the offended woman.
‘No, no, I’m sor-sor, sorry,’ he stammered before turning away and barging past the flummoxed old bird.
‘What do you think?’ Laurel said as she stepped into the light and gave her a twirl.
‘You look divine.’ She took Laurel’s arm and pulled her towards the counter. ‘Let’s get these paid for and back on the road.’ Astrid searched for the security cameras.
‘Don’t you want to try your clothes on?’ Laurel said through flummoxed lips.
‘No time,’ Astrid said without explanation.
They left five minutes later armed with new underwear for each of them, a couple of shirts and a trendy pair of trousers for Laurel. Astrid had worked it out, so they had enough to pay for the parking. As they entered the underground garage, they laughed like teenagers on a first date, striding arm in arm towards the car.
She let go of Laurel, reached for the car keys and put her hand on the door. The hairs on the back of her head sprang to life: something was wrong. In the reflection of the window was a shadow with its arm around Laurel’s neck. She turned to see the nervous security guard with a large kitchen knife at Lee’s throat. It had a price sticker hanging off the blade.
‘We didn’t steal anything, so you might be overreacting here.’
She tried to keep him calm. A trickle of blood slithered down Laurel’s skin.
‘Put your hands in the air and lean against the car,’ he said.
Astrid dropped the shopping bag to the floor with a clatter. ‘Well, which is it? I can’t do both.’
She stood motionless and stared at him. Any wrong move on her part, and there was no telling what he’d do. The grimace on Laurel’s face was enough to tell her he had the edge of the blade too close to her flesh.
‘Throw your keys on the floor.’
‘What’s this about?’ She ignored his command. ‘Is this some harsh store policy against women flirting with each other?’
She grinned at him, wanting to keep the tone light until he made a mistake. He would, they always did, but she didn’t want to get Laurel killed in the process.
He pulled her closer to him. ‘You’re that serial killer they’re looking for, the Reaper.’
‘They informed shop security about me?’
I underestimated how desperate the Agency could get.
‘My girlfriend’s a cop,’ he said. ‘She got your details last night.’
‘Are you looking for a promotion?’
She noticed the nerves creep out of him as he smirked at her. ‘They all laugh at me for what I do, her and the bastards she works with. But this will show them, me catching a psycho serial killer on my own.’
‘Are you going to kill my hostage first?’ She bent down to retrieve the shopping bag.
‘Wha-aat?’ His stammer returned.
Astrid stuck her head inside the bag and pulled out the lace underwear she’d just bought. ‘The woman you’re holding; I was going to strangle her with these, but you go ahead. I don’t mind watching once in a while.’
She blew him a kiss. It landed on his chin and made his legs buckle.
‘She’s not your partner?’
‘Of course not, silly boy.’ She pressed the button on the keys and opened the driver’s door. ‘I haven’t got all day, so if you don’t do it quickly, I’m going to have to love you and leave you.’
She turned her head from him, watching his reaction in the reflection of the window. All she needed was Laurel to play her part.
‘Please don’t kill me.’ Laurel managed to sound like a traumatised teenage girl. It was enough for him to drop his guard for one split second. She pushed her back into his stomach with enough force to knock him back against the wall and ran to the car. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ Laurel grabbed hold of the door.
‘We can’t leave him here like this.’
Astrid strode towards the security guard.
‘What?’ Laurel shouted.
‘Our car will be on the security cameras when we came in. They’ll have our registration and be able to track us from here. We have to silence him.’
He steadied himself against the wall and thrust the blade towards her face. She dodged his lunge and grabbed hold of his wrist, twisting it to the side, so the bone snapped in one go.
‘Aaaaaaaa,’ he screamed. Laurel sprinted towards them as he collapsed to the floor. Astrid bent down and picked up the knife.
‘You’ve only got yourself to blame for this.’
She tightened her grip on the blade.