An Old Score

by Edie Baylis

  Joe’s voice became even more pleading. ‘Can we not meet up before or after? I won’t take up much of your time. Shit is at stake here and whether you believe me or not, you’re the only one who can help.’

  ‘Ok,’ Teagan said, immediately regretting it. ‘I’ll meet you tomorrow, but it can’t be for long. And don’t get in the habit of running to me when things aren’t going well. This will be the one and only time.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Joe promised. In fact, he more than promised. The last thing he’d wanted was to get back in touch with Teagan. After she’d sorted this, he’d never have to speak to her again – which was what he’d been angling for all along, but at least now he’d formulated a plan as to how to pull this off.

  Twenty Two

  HELEN PUT HER COFFEE MUG down on her desk and flicked through the pages of her red A4 planner. No meetings or appointments this morning, thankfully.

  She glanced through the window to the main part of the estate agents, seeing Joanne with a customer – a customer who she’d felt the need to point out, was there to complete on a property. So, Joanne had made a sale. Whoopee-doo!

  Well, she needed a sale. She needed more than bloody one to sort this mess. To top it all, the interest had gone up on her mortgage for the second time in six months and what with the lack of commission lately, things were anything but flush. She was dreading Bob Proctor suggesting they made another joint financial injection into company funds. It was only a matter of time.

  Bob was out today following ‘successful leads’ from the networking dinner. It seemed that everyone was doing well. Except for her.

  Helen had always excelled in her ability to sell and broker deals, but this last few weeks things had ground to a halt and she wasn’t happy about that. She was also still smarting over James’ toe-curlingly embarrassing behaviour last night. No one had mentioned it, but she knew they must have noticed. Everyone must have noticed.

  Picking up her mug again, Helen took a sip of the now tepid sour-tasting coffee and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost 10, so why had she been unable to get hold of anyone? She’d called Ken’s mobile first thing, but it had gone straight through to voicemail. She’d tried a further three times since, but the same thing had happened. By the time it had reached 9.30, she’d even called him at the office, not that she’d wanted to. She’d have preferred to catch him before he’d got to work. It was always difficult to talk with everyone hanging around, but she was desperate to know the rest of the details about the apartment.

  Last night he’d said she needed to move at double quick speed to secure the offer the developer was prepared to give. She had to admit he’d wangled a bloody good offer. A 35k reduction was not to be sniffed at, but Ken hadn’t had chance to let her know what the proposed time frame was before James’ stellar performance of acting like a loon had diverted his attention. Plus, she needed to confirm how fast he could get the contracts drawn up so she could have everything down in writing before the developer changed his mind.

  Another reason why she needed Darren Harding to buy the Gables and for her sales to pick up.

  Helen’s teeth dug into her bottom lip. There was no way she had anywhere near all of the money required for the apartment to guarantee a fast transaction. There was no way she could swing another mortgage at the bank – not with her own remortgage and the state of the company finances hanging round her neck. Perhaps Robert would loan her some until the next few commissions came in? But then he’d want to know why. Oh, God, what a mess.

  Her eyebrows knitted together, an idea forming. Perhaps if her mother’s ‘illness’ took a drastic turn for the worse, Robert would be more pliable with stepping up for the money?

  Helen picked up the phone again, feeling a lot happier in her mind now she’d thought of a way forward. She’d try Ken one last time - he couldn’t be out all day. The idiot had probably left his phone somewhere. Then she’d call Darren Harding and give him a nudge in the right direction.

  She’d got halfway through dialling Ken’s number when she glanced up to see two police enter the estate agents. Seeing Joanne turn to look in the direction of her office, Helen replaced the handset and got to her feet.

  DULCIE SANG LOUDLY to a tune blaring from the record player whilst Teagan hovered in the doorway.

  Maybe she should reconsider having the afternoon off? Last night was the worst so far for Dulcie’s sleep confusion. The woman had been totally out of it when Teagan had rushed from her bed after hearing the shouting. It had been almost 3am, but unable to sleep in anything more than fits and starts, her mind running on overtime since the frantic and strange phone call with Joe, it had literally felt like she’d only had seconds of sleep before the noise from the floor below had woken her with a jolt.

  As expected, Dulcie was back in the pink bedroom, but this time she’d been having a heated argument with someone invisible. Despite entering the room and making herself known, she’d been unable to get through to Dulcie. Even physically interacting with the woman hadn’t been enough to break the world Dulcie was visiting last night.

  Despite appearing fully awake and coherent, moving around as she would do usually, Dulcie’s eyes were glazed, looking straight through Teagan during the many attempts she’d tried to get her attention. Wherever Dulcie had been, it was real to her. The heated and loud argument she’d been having, judging by the names used, was with Michael – the man she’d said had never returned.

  The anger and resentment in Dulcie’s voice as she’d spewed forth a host of profanities had unnerved Teagan. Although she’d seen Dulcie behave erratically before and act quite aggressively when she was in one of her confused states, last night was, without a doubt, the most unnerving and unpleasant one yet. So much so that she was now really concerned about the lady’s well-being.

  Teagan faltered as she moved further into the room. Helen said dementia only got worse, but this was so much worse and it had escalated so very quickly.

  Watching as Dulcie picked the needle off the record, Teagan could see as plain as day that her hands were shaking. Shaking a lot. As the room fell silent she stepped forward. ‘Dulcie? Would you like a cup of tea? Or a coffee, perhaps?’

  Dulcie swung around, her eyes flashing with fury, her mouth cracked into a sneer. ‘I know what you’re doing. I know you’re in on it with her.’

  Teagan frowned. Act normal, Teagan. Pretend she isn’t saying weird things. She’ll snap out of it – she usually does. ‘You must be tired,’ she smiled. ‘You had a rather disturbed night.’

  Dulcie shook her head, her beady blue eyes pinpointed on Teagan. ‘Trying that again are you? All that tosh about me saying things?’ She slammed her gnarled hand down on the top of the stereo cabinet, making Teagan jump. ‘Well, it won’t work!’

  ‘W-What? I...’

  ‘Shut up, you stupid girl. Don’t come in here telling me this, that and whatever. You know as well as I do that I didn’t have a disturbed night at all.’ Something suddenly changed behind Dulcie’s eyes and she raised her hands in the air and looked at the ceiling dramatically. ‘What am I even doing attempting to justify myself to you? Tell me that?’

  Teagan blinked. She was still on one then? ‘Dulcie, I’m not...’

  ‘Be quiet!’ Dulcie barked. ‘Don’t you dare make excuses. I’m top billing at this club and you know it!’ Her lips flattened into an unflattering smirk.

  Teagan remained motionless, not knowing what to do or say and perspiration beaded at the back of her neck. Should she call Helen? Maybe she should call the doctor?

  ‘What are you planning now? Come on! Out with it! What are you thinking you could possibly do?’ Dulcie laughed nastily as she shook her head. ‘Well, I tell you this, lady. There’s nothing you can do. Nothing at all.’

  She moved quickly across the room, her bony finger pointing towards Teagan, her face slowly twisting.

  Teagan stepped backwards. Even though she knew Dulcie wasn’t speaking to her personally, the wom
an’s expression and tone was vicious and, dare she say it, it was scaring her.

  Moving closer, Dulcie pushed herself into Teagan’s face; close enough to be able to smell the mint tea on her breath. ‘Now piss off out of this room before I drag you out myself.’

  Dulcie’s eyes flashed with unbridled rage and despite thinking herself ridiculous for doing so, Teagan found herself running from the room in fright.

  JONAH SCROLLED THROUGH the local news feed on the internet, his forehead furrowing. This wasn’t what he’d been hoping to see.

  He always had his eyes and ears open for anything that may concern his club, along with developments and possible openings for any part of the business, not to mention whispers of criminal activity which might shout up handy leads to what rival firms were up to; hints of possible opportunities on the horizon, trouble coming his way or anyone who looked like they were edging towards infringing on his territory.

  Not that he’d ever had many problems with the latter. Any firm worth their salt respected each other’s boundaries and didn’t go looking for trouble, himself included. Every now or then there would be the odd one pushing their luck – invariably foreigners, but on the whole there was usually little point of concern on that angle. Most trouble came from within, as his father’s own experience with Michael Fucking Pointer had proven.

  That alone made him more edgy than most over loyalty and trust. But today was different. The local headlines were definitely centred on him.

  Well, not him, per se, but courtesy of what he’d sanctioned - both the hospitalised kid and the concern surrounding the missing estate agent were solely on his back.

  Sure, he’d instructed Nero and Keith to get things moving by doing whatever necessary to move things forward, but they’d drawn attention with these two and the worst thing of all was that he was still no nearer to getting what he wanted. At least there was no connection between him, his business or anyone to do with him and the two latest newsworthy articles. Yet...

  Jonah ran his fingers through his hair. This was the age-old problem when business ran into civilian territory. Civilians were missed and things got noticed.

  From what Nero had said when filling him in first thing with more details then he’d been able to give over the blower last night, he hadn’t been too happy that Keith had gone in at the deep end. The lad in the coma was one thing. The kid most likely had a glass jaw to start with – those type always did, but finishing off the suit because of an insult was another.

  Keith was a loose cannon in situations such as these – more diplomacy and control was needed where the great unwashed public were concerned, so perhaps Keith hadn’t been the best choice to work alongside Nero on this particular case after all. But then, he understood the reasoning too. From what had been said, the suit wasn’t ever going to talk and if they’d let him walk, it was almost a dead cert he’d have run to the Old Bill, so there hadn’t been too much choice in the outcome.

  Jonah frowned. He’d just have to rely that a decent enough job had been undertaken on the clean-up operation. Nero had called in their best guys who frequently dealt with situations such as this and he had every faith in their ability to leave no traces. All should be good, but it was still a risk and one that he’d been hoping to avoid.

  Jonah’s eyes wandered to the envelope containing the Visiting Order he’d received in the post this morning. He knew Saul wanted an update on how the retrieval of the goods was progressing, but the last thing he wanted to do was go and see his brother. He would want to know why it hadn’t happened yet and furthermore, want to know why valuable time was being ‘wasted’ on civilians, rather than going straight for the prize.

  Jonah’s lips flattened into a thin line. He didn’t need Saul’s lectures and he certainly didn’t need any more pressure being lumped on him. Saul was in nick, not him and he was dealing with this, not his bloody brother.

  The fact that, due to his own impatience and losing his temper, giving Nero and Keith the go-ahead to be a bit more heavy handed had cost one bloke his life – possibly two, didn’t sit well. Jonah scowled, not liking the concept that perhaps he was sometimes more like his brother than he wanted to be.

  Picking up the envelope, he stuffed it in the bottom drawer of his desk. He wouldn’t be going to see Saul – not this time. He’d wait until this was done before he did that.

  Jonah picked up his glass of whisky and absentmindedly sipped at it, his eyes once again straying to the finger on his left hand and scowled.

  She hadn’t shown her face this morning either. Lena.

  When he’d returned to the sitting room last night after taking Nero’s call, she’d disappeared off to bed – to bed in the spare room again, but for once, he hadn’t bothered pulling her out of there. He had no wish to continue the conversation. He’d made his point loud and clear and she’d just have to put up with it.

  HEATH WALKED CONFIDENTLY down the street towards the café that Teagan suggested they meet in, glancing at his reflection in a shop window as he passed.

  Having put on a pair of smart jeans and a decent shirt, he looked good – not overdressed, but not too casual either. His hair was smart and the pair of leather loafers he wore completed the look.

  Borrowing the Lexus again, he’d hoped to park it in range of the café so she’d have a good view, but unfortunately, this particular place didn’t have a car park and all the spaces outside on the road were taken, so he’d settled with parking further down the road. It wasn’t a problem. If he played his cards right, she’d have plenty of chance to see the car later.

  Heath grinned. He’d done enough digging on Facebook to get enough gen on the school he’d allegedly attended with Teagan to make a conversation plausible. He’d come across a Facebook group of ex-pupils, which luckily, Teagan wasn’t a member of and by working out the years she would have attended, he’d pinpointed a handful of people who would have been in her year. Names he could casually drop into the conversation, knowing she should remember them, even though she couldn’t remember him. He just had to hope the names he was planning on using weren’t girls she’d hated or boys who’d dumped her. Still, whatever – dropping in these peoples’ names would confirm his authenticity if she had any lurking doubts.

  Pushing open the door of the Piccolo Café, Heath glanced around, hoping to spot her, but he couldn’t see anyone fitting the bill. Walking up to the counter, he smiled easily at the woman standing behind it. ‘Sit anywhere?’ he asked.

  ‘Being as this isn’t the Ritz, yes love,’ the woman replied. ‘Whatever takes your fancy. I’ll come and take your order in a moment.’

  Supressing a shudder as the woman with her greying, scraped-back hair winked at him, he smiled. She didn’t take his fancy, that was for sure, but it never hurt to be pleasant.

  Heath moved to a table in the window, partially steamed up from condensation. This way he could get a view who was coming up the road. He’d studied Teagan’s profile picture and reckoned he’d spot her easily enough. From what he’d seen during the quick glimpse he’d had when she’d opened the door to Helen Shepherd the other night, she looked the same in real life as she did on her profile. He’d lost count of the amount of times he’d heard of people sticking old photos up, sometimes even photos of a completely different person. Or worse, a picture of a flower or a cat.

  If he was into trying to find a bird via the internet then he dreaded to think what he’d end up with. Probably some sixty-year-old woman, based on a profile picture of thirty years prior, not to mention twelve stone lighter!

  Glancing at his mobile, Heath was glad to see there were no texts or missed calls from Teagan. He’d be gutted if she cried off at this late stage. It would balls up his plans – however loose they were. There was another missed call from Helen Shepherd though. Probably chasing up about that house. He’d have to call her, but he wasn’t quite sure how to play that one now. His father thought pursuing that route was a waste of time and he had to admit, he agreed.
>
  Suddenly spotting a young woman walking down the road, Heath sat forward. Was this Teagan?

  His heart raced as his mind played out various scenarios of what he would say. Calm, Heath. Treat this as a potential car sale, play it by ear and you’ll be fine.

  He watched the woman near the café. She looked flustered and nervous – not a great sign.

  Unconsciously smoothing down his hair, Heath adopted a relaxed expression, even though he felt anything but. Pulling his mobile back out of his pocket, he flicked through his contacts. It always looked better not to appear on edge and fiddling with a mobile was the perfect and commonly used distraction.

  ‘Ok then, love. What can I get you?’

  Heath’s head jerked up, only to see the woman from behind the counter leaning disturbingly close to him, notepad in hand. ‘Oh, erm... could you just give me a moment? I’m waiting for a friend before I order.’ Fuck off. I can’t see Teagan come in if you stand there.

  The waitress nodded and moved away, revealing Teagan standing by the counter looking around uncomfortably.

  ‘Teagan?’ Heath jumped to his feet a little too hastily, knocking a vinegar bottle over in the process. ‘Bollocks!’ he muttered, the liquid splashing over the table as well as his jeans, the noise making all of the other customer crane their necks to stare at him.

  ‘Don’t worry, love. I’ll sort this out.’ The waitress shoved herself between the tables, mopping at the spilt vinegar with a cloth.

  Heath pushed through the remaining gap and rushed over to Teagan, trying to stop his eyes running over her nice figure inside the well-fitted black trousers and top. ‘Teagan? Great to see you again!’

  Teagan returned a shy smile. ‘Darren?’

  ‘It is indeed.’ For want of thinking it the right and usual thing to do if she really had been an old schoolmate, Heath pulled Teagan towards him, enveloping her into a hug and then kissed her on the cheek.