Cold Heart

by Sean-Paul Thomas

  She didn’t feel good or bad about cheating on her husband. Just a kind of numbing down in-between. She’d done it countless times before for her employers while on numerous missions. It was something that she barely even thought about anymore. It was all just part of her job.

  The only act she wouldn’t perform on Tommy though was kissing him on the mouth or anywhere else for that matter. It just wasn’t something she did or was ever comfortable with. That was saved for her husband and only him when the mood struck her. It was the least she could do and the least he deserved for her countless robotic infidelities all in the line of duty.

  Even though Tommy looked somewhat bigger and stronger than the tall but athletic Estelle, he knew better than to ask her twice about kissing him on the mouth or down in his loins. He was fully aware that she could both kill or severely injure him with just a few flicks of her wrists or jabs of her finger tips. Yet that was half the thrill for Tommy. Sexually dominating someone more powerful and dangerous than him. When would he ever get the chance of such an experience ever again?

  Once Tommy had finished with a loud, exhausting pleasurable moan, Estelle immediately sat herself down and rested upon the back seat of the car. Quickly she pulled and buttoned up her jeans before opening the car door for some air and prying out a cigarette from her trouser pocket.

  Tommy was still lounging out on the other side of the long car seat, basking in a pleasurable glow while recovering his breath and composure with his trousers and pants still down around his ankles and his now-flaccid manhood still fully exposed.

  After regaining his breath, Tommy ripped off his condom and chucked it outside onto the cold hard pavement. He pulled up his trousers and tucked in his shirt. Upon his hip was the same black bird tattoo with spread wings, exactly like Estelle’s.

  Estelle remained silent and relaxed. Her breath was barely audible as she took another hard draw from her cigarette. Tommy watched her for a long pleasurable moment. He even smiled. He loved watching her after sex. She was just so cool, aloof, and so very unique to anyone else he’d ever known before.

  “I’m surprised you even messaged me after all these years. Even if it is off the books.”

  Estelle turned to face Tommy. She looked into his eyes for the first time since she’d climbed into his car.

  “Did your wife mind you leaving so suddenly in the middle of the night?”

  Tommy chuckled at that. It was such an unexpected comment.

  “She’s used to it by now. What about you? Is your husband used to it?”

  Estelle said nothing. She turned back to face the window and smoked a little more of her cigarette.

  “Christ, it’s been such a long time, Estelle. Six fucking years in the flesh? You look...” Tommy hesitated as he studied her battered and bruised face and hands. “You look good.”

  “You were always such a shit liar, Tommy.” Estelle said with a slight smirk.

  “I guess that’s why they always kept me at a desk and not out in the field doing all the espionage action shit that you guys do.”

  Tommy leaned in towards Estelle, but not too close. It was the kind of distance one would always keep while trying to cuddle up to the family rottweiler.

  “This is just the way I remember you. Moody, battered, and broken. With a fag in your mouth right after some fast and frantic shagging.”

  “…I’m not broken.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. You know what I meant. But you know that you’ll always look good to me, right? No matter how many beatings you take or what kind of stinking, shitty clothes you wear.”

  Estelle unleashed the rarest of faint smiles. Tommy grinned too. He remembered how challenging it had been in the past to make Estelle laugh or, hell, even smile for that matter. But when he did, Christ, it felt good. Like he’d achieved the impossible. Climbed fucking Mount Everest three times over.

  “Is there a compliment hidden in there somewhere?” Estelle softly asked before stubbing out her cigarette and flicking it out through the open door. The stub almost landed right beside the used condom. “You know I’m not here for a friendly catch up, right?”

  “I did kind of guess that Estelle, yes. Although, I did have my fingers crossed that you might have finally changed your mind about me—about us.” Tommy teased.

  Estelle gently rolled her eyes.

  “There is no us Tommy. There never was. There never will be. What happened in Morocco...”

  “I know. I know.” Tommy sighed, finishing for her.

  “It was just sex. Just a physical connection after some near-death experiences. I needed a release. And you just happened to be...”

  Tommy grinned seductively at that before finishing the sentence for her.

  “...The right man in the right place at the right time. But you know, it always puts a big fat smile on my face thinking back to that month we had in Rabbit in that stuffy, little, back street apartment.”

  Estelle gazed hard at Tommy with her steely eyes.

  “I feel so sorry for your fucking wife.” Estelle finally retorted, but with a slight teasing grin. It wasn’t judgmental. She was just playing along to Tommy’s teasing game.

  “Don’t feel too sorry for her. I caught her fucking the plumber a few months back.”

  Estelle almost laughed out loud at that. And she hadn’t laughed spontaneously for such a long, long time. She couldn’t tell if Tommy was being serious or not. It was actually one of the rare traits she liked most about him. He had a good, dry, witty sense of humor that made him hard to read at the best of times, even if he was a selfish narcissistic prick.

  “So why are you here then, sexy senorita? You gonna tell me?”

  “I need your help? Your computer-hacking help?”

  “Off the books?”

  “Off the books.”

  Tommy gazed into Estelle’s eyes and nodded gently. He was of course the first to finally break eye contact and glance away.

  “Let’s get this fucking show on the road then, shall we?”

  ***

  They arrived at Tommy’s secret underground lock-up twenty minutes later. It was actually an empty basement apartment on Calton Hill’s Regent Terrace, but with another secret second basement underneath. Apparently, it had been the old Russian embassy once upon a time back in the 1970’s and Tommy had snapped it up at a bargain price right after they’d relocated to the New Town.

  Tommy led Estelle down into his underground hi-tech lock-up. His secret hidden basement, right underneath his actual basement. The huge secret chamber was crammed to the rafters with so much state-of-the-art hi-tech computer equipment that Estelle wondered for a second if she’d stumbled into a small spacecraft.

  With all the computers and screens lying around, Estelle took a guess that Tommy was keeping a track on everything that was going on in the world and well away from the prying eyes of their employers. This was his own personal project and it was deeply impressive. He had drone images up on one screen followed by live Middle East hostage situations on another. On half a dozen more he had plane and ship radars then air traffic control from all of the major British airports including the unofficial ones. He’d even tapped into a live camera footage stream from the international space station.

  “I remember you telling me about this place once upon a time. Your little tech den hideaway. It’s even more impressive in person.”

  “Thanks. And congrats, by the way. You are officially one of the few lucky punters to ever grace her chambers.”

  “How do you afford all this? On the company’s salary?”

  “Bitcoin.” Tommy grinned right back at her. “I’d made a substantial investment back in the day even before they’d decided to give the new crypto currency its official name.”

  “Always one step ahead of the game.”

  “It’s just the way my brain works, Estelle. Always on the lookout for new state of the art technology and long-term, future side projects.”

  Tommy sat down at a
nearby computer that looked like his main central hub. He began typing away some web addresses before inputting some complicated hacking codes that Estelle couldn’t even begin to understand.

  “So, into the delightful Police Scotland Department we go.”

  Estelle casually leaned over Tommy and watched him do his magic with a keen eye.

  “I want to see everything on my sister’s case.” Estelle stated firmly. “Especially the name of the witness who saw her jumping into the river for a swim before she died.”

  Tommy nodded before causally asking Estelle if she could make him a strong cup of black coffee from the nearby makeshift kitchen. Estelle frowned, she hated being told what to do and Tommy knew it too, but she gently nodded her head and proceeded to do it anyway. She made one for herself and handed Tommy another mug as she continued to stand beside him, watching the information unfold upon the screen.

  “Here we go. Witness statement from one Mrs. Margaret Lamont. She was out walking her dog late at night beside the river Clyde because she couldn’t sleep. She was walking along the south side of the river, just in front of the mosque, when she saw Gayle dancing on the river bank, all alone while listening to music on her head phones. She saw Gayle strip off all her clothes and dive right into the water for a late-night swim. The woman, Mrs. Lamont, ran down to the embankment and tried to stop Gayle from entering the water, but she was too late. Gayle had already disappeared underneath the waves.”

  “Who typed up this shit?” Estelle said with an absolute look of disgust.

  Tommy studied the screen even harder.

  “One detective Lewis Jonas. He signed this statement off.”

  Estelle’s eyes were glazing. She felt a rage burning deep inside her again like nothing she’d ever felt before now that she had some names to these lying sacks of shit.

  “Bring up everything about this detective fucker too. And give me the address of this Mrs. Lamont; lying witness bitch and her little fucking dog.”

  “Yes, sir.” Tommy chirpily replied with a firm but casual salute.

  ***

  In the early hours of the morning Tommy drove Estelle back to the train station to catch the first early morning train back to Glasgow. Estelle had all the information she needed and her mind was swirling like a raging tornado about how she was going to act upon everything Tommy had found out for her. In the end, she knew there was only one way she could act: with intimidating brute force and violence. It was all she knew.

  After Tommy pulled up into a vacant taxi bay this time, he turned to Estelle to break their silence.

  “Do you really love your husband, Estelle?” he asked.

  “Do you love your wife?” Estelle shot right back at him.

  Tommy glanced away. He clearly had a lot on his mind and seemed to be struggling to get everything that he wished to say out in the open.

  “How did you ever end up with some bloody hack writer, anyhow? Jesus Christ.” He chuckled. “And not even a bloody good one at that? What does he do for you? What does he even give you that I couldn’t?”

  Estelle gently shook her head and unleashed a deep, deep sigh. She really didn’t want to have this conversation. Especially with Tommy. Not now. Not ever.

  “I guess… he accepts me for who I am and what I am. Even though he has no idea who I truly am, if that makes any sense.”

  “No, it doesn’t make any fucking sense.” Tommy retorted with a dry chuckle.

  “Well, he doesn’t mind that I never let him in, up here, you know.” Estelle gently tapped her head. “That I never let him in to my true fucked up self. My true feelings. He doesn’t get angry or upset. There is no drama with John. Ever. He doesn’t ask questions when I disappear for weeks on end and then come back home to him with broken bones and bruises all over my entire body that I don’t want to explain. Or when I wake up in the middle of the night crying like a crazy lunatic when all the horrific, sick shit I’ve seen and done finally catches up to me in one tidal wave nightmare.”

  “He just accepts what is and I love him for that. He is my rock. And most important of all he is the most unbelievable father to Clara. Without a shadow of a doubt he is a great faithful, loyal, and stable dad. And I owe her that. To give her something that neither me nor my sister ever had.”

  Tommy nodded. Like he did actually understand.

  “Are you trying to say that I’d make a really shitty husband and father?”

  Estelle didn’t reply to that but her silence spoke a million and a half words and told him everything that he’d needed to know about why the two of them would never be together. Tommy held Estelle’s hand for an overly long moment, but she soon pulled it away, unable to return his warm and loving gesture.

  “Please, come back and see me again soon, okay? And not just when you need a bloody favor...”

  Estelle took a deep breath and looked Tommy hard in his eyes. She knew that was never going to happen again. And deep down inside, Tommy knew it too.

  “Goodbye, Tommy. And thank you for your help.”

  Not one for hanging around with drawn out goodbyes, Estelle climbed swiftly out of the car and headed straight into the train station, disappearing in amongst the crowds of early morning commuters.

  With his mouth half open, all Tommy could do was watch her leave.

  Chapter 16

  Estelle sat at her window seat as the early morning train whizzed towards Glasgow City Center. She was gazing at the dim burning rim of the gently rising sun as its beautiful soft aura rays began lighting up the surrounding countryside. As the train passed through a long narrow tunnel, she returned her gaze to her mobile phone where she began watching more live stream footage of her daughter, sleeping soundly back home in her bedroom where Estelle had left her only twenty-four hours earlier.

  Estelle took a long glance down the almost-empty carriage of the train. A few seats down on the opposite side but facing her was a young father, perhaps no more than thirty-five years of age, sitting beside his young daughter who looked no more than nine or ten.

  The daughter looked fast asleep. Obviously, such an early morning train ride had taken its exhaustive toll upon the shattered little girl. She was cuddled up into her father’s chest like a little koala bear as he too desperately tried to keep his eyes open while continuing to read the little girl a story from some children’s book that Estelle couldn’t quite see the name of.

  Estelle wondered what the father and daughter’s story was, why were they both sitting on the first early morning train from Edinburgh to Glasgow and why were they both so tired. And where was the girl’s mother? Was the man really her father? These were the thoughts that raced through Estelle’s suspicious mind at a million miles an hour. The girl looked comfortable though, snuggled up to the man so her instincts told her that he was dear to her.

  The young father suddenly raised his head and glanced briefly over at Estelle when he caught her watching him from the corner of his eye. He smiled warmly. Surprisingly, Estelle forced a smile right back at him. The father then turned back to reading his book again. The action brought back another distant memory for Estelle. A memory of her own father from so many years ago, back in a time when everything seemed safe, warm, and cozy in Estelle’s world. A time when there were no problems in her young, innocent, untainted life and the only difficult dilemma she faced every day was choosing which cereal to eat in the mornings for breakfast rather than trying to stay well out of the way of a junkie mother and a physically abusive stepfather.

  It was the last good, decent memory she could remember of both her childhood and her loving father.

  Estelle was around ten years old at the time. Probably the same age as the little girl sleeping upon her father’s chest opposite her was now. Estelle’s father though was slightly younger at the time, possibly around thirty years of age.

  They were hiking through a thick forest together near Lanark when Estelle’s father suddenly ducked in behind a thick oak tree. Quickly, he beckoned Estelle
to do the same, but quietly, since she was still a good few dozen yards behind him on the forest path.

  “Look, Estelle. Quick!” Her father whispered loud but with much excitement in his tone. Like he was witnessing some kind of miracle out in the small narrow clearing beyond the thick trees.

  Estelle made her way, quietly as she could, over towards her father and behind the tree. He shushed her gently as she approached. They both crouched down a little lower and began staring out through a gap in the trees and out into the narrow clearing.

  A family of deer could be seen beyond the branches. A male, a female and two young fawns. Estelle looked excited as hell, in complete and utter awe to see such a sight with her own two eyes and outside of a TV documentary. She’d never seen deer so up close and personal before. It was an extraordinary sight for a child so young.

  “They’re beautiful, da. And they’re just like us. Me, you, ma, and Gayle. A family of four.”

  Her father beamed a smile at that and rubbed his small daughter’s head.

  Later, when they reached a small river in the middle of the thick forest, they set up their tent and campsite for that evening. All afternoon Estelle’s father taught her how to fish from the riverbank using a small fishing rod they’d packed in amongst their camping backpacks and essentials. In no time at all they caught a big trout, then another. Which Estelle’s father showed her how to kill quickly and humanely.

  “Put your finger into its mouth, Estelle, then snap its head back quick and hard. This way you break its neck and put it out of its misery immediately, rather than let it flop around and suffocate to death. Which also ruins the taste.”

  Estelle looked absolutely horrified as her father casually broke the fish’s neck right in front of her before throwing it onto the ground. It shocked her to the very core that her father could be so callous and brutal. It was a side to him that she had never seen before.

  Soon Estelle caught her own fish. Although, unlike her father, she battled with her conscience in ending its life. She had never killed anything before, accidentally or willingly. Not even a fly or a spider. Only a few days earlier she’d caught a huge hairy spider in her bedroom, cupped it into her hands with ease, before releasing it into the garden when most people would have squished it at first sight.