A Place to Call Home

by Carole Matthews

  Suresh muttered a curse under his breath. As he was about to punch the number into his mobile, the doorbell rang and his mother shuffled to the door to let in Arunja. She fussed over his brother as she never did with him.

  When she’d eventually finished her ministrations, Arunja came into the kitchen.

  ‘What fucking time do you call this?’ Suresh said. ‘We were about to leave without you.’

  ‘Keep your shirt on,’ Arunja said, unruffled. ‘I had stuff to sort out at home. You know what it’s like. So I’m five minutes late.’ He shrugged his indifference, and Suresh had never wanted to punch him more. ‘We know the form after last time.’

  ‘Let’s get going,’ Flynn said tightly. ‘We’re wasting even more time listening to you two bicker. At this rate we’ll get snarled up in rush-hour traffic. Even on the bikes it’ll slow us down.’

  Suresh grabbed his bag. That was it. After this one, Arunja was out. They could get someone who was more professional, more committed. They didn’t need passengers. The rewards were too high to share them with someone who didn’t pull his weight. He pushed past Arunja and went out to the car, seething inside.

  Flynn got into the driver’s seat next to Suresh. Arunja and Smith got in the back. They drove the ten minutes to the lock-up in stony silence. The atmosphere could have been cut with a knife.

  Suresh seethed. When this was over and he was rich beyond his wildest dreams, he’d cut all the dead wood out of his life: his brother, his parents, and he’d finally see to that wife of his. This time he wouldn’t leave the job to amateurs. He’d go himself and he’d cut out her heart. Hers and the kid’s too. That would be the end of it and he could move on with his new life. It couldn’t happen soon enough.

  When they arrived at the lock-up, Suresh opened the door, and instantly his hackles rose.

  ‘Someone’s been in here,’ he said. Since he’d last come up to the garage, one of the bikes had been moved, he was sure of it.

  ‘That was me,’ Arunja admitted. ‘I want to be one of the riders. I’ve taken a bike out a couple of times to brush up my skills.’

  ‘You’ve what?’ Suresh was fuming. ‘How could you do that without telling me?’

  ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘Someone could have seen you, identified the bike.’

  ‘They didn’t,’ Arunja said. ‘I was careful.’

  ‘Anything could have gone wrong.’

  ‘Well, it didn’t. Chill out, Suresh.’

  Chill out? Suresh fumed. His brother was an idiot. He took nothing in this life seriously. Well, he’d deal with Arunja later, Suresh thought. He was too full of his own importance and needed to be taken down a peg or two.

  Suresh scanned the garage quickly and was relieved to see that nothing else had been interfered with. You had to be careful these days, there were a lot of petty thieves about.

  The men changed into their bike leathers, black for all of them. Topped with black crash helmets and mirrored visors, they looked mean, menacing. No one with any sense would want to get in their way.

  They picked up their holdalls and checked the guns in them. Last time they hadn’t even needed to use them; waving them about in a threatening manner had been enough. Arunja and Smith tucked club hammers down the back of their leathers.

  ‘I want to ride on this one,’ Arunja said. ‘You said I could.’

  ‘I don’t have time to argue with you, Arunja. Just get on the back with Smith.’

  ‘You said I could ride.’ He sounded petulant, as he always had as a child.

  ‘Shut up and get on the fucking bike,’ Suresh snarled.

  ‘We need to be going,’ Flynn said. He looked at his watch again, a Rolex that he’d taken a fancy to from the last raid. He was impatient, agitated.

  This time, the jewellery store they were doing was an established one that had recently been given a revamp. The whole frontage was glass, the entrance wide and welcoming. It would be easier to get into but, on the downside, it was deeper into the shopping centre. They’d need to be in and out faster. Also, they had no one on the inside this time, but he and Flynn had been in a couple of times to suss out the layout and it seemed simple enough. This was probably the last time they’d be able to hit this place, as they’d get used to expecting them. Next time they’d move on to another shopping centre, out of their patch, and catch them off guard. The stakes were higher and that was what was giving him the adrenalin buzz, but this time something felt off-kilter.

  It could be down to Arunja. He didn’t fit in with the team and the vibe was all wrong. He’d get Flynn to draft in someone else as soon as he could, and Arunja would be cut loose. His brother was about to find out that blood wasn’t thicker than water.

  They tooled up, opened up the garage and mounted the bikes. Reluctantly Arunja slid on to the pillion seat behind Smith and, when the lock-up door was secured, Suresh got on behind Flynn. They roared out into the workday traffic and turned towards the shopping centre.

  Chapter Eighty-six

  Hayden sat in his office, Joy at his side. He clicked the last few buttons on the page he was viewing on the internet before signing off.

  ‘We’re done,’ he said to her.

  ‘Really?’

  He smiled. ‘No going back now.’

  ‘It makes me feel sick just thinking of it,’ Joy admitted.

  The printer kicked into life and spewed out a piece of paper, which he handed over to Joy.

  She looked at it with disdain. ‘That’s it? No pretty folder and bunch of tickets any more?’

  ‘Nope,’ Hayden said. ‘That’s it. E-ticket. Apparently it’s progress.’

  Joy rolled her eyes. ‘Aren’t all the bad ideas in the world? Doesn’t seem much for all that money.’

  ‘Nevertheless, it’s one return ticket to Singapore. You’re on your way, Joy. By this time next week, you’ll be happily ensconced in your son’s home.’

  ‘I hope you’re right about the “happily” bit.’

  ‘You’ll love it, I’m sure,’ Hayden assured her.

  Joy had finally agreed with her sons that she’d go out there for a month to see how she liked it. Hayden hoped that, having made the first step, it would pave the way for Joy to go and live out there with them on a permanent basis.

  She stared at the paper in her hand. ‘I’m glad it’s only a few days away. I don’t think my nerves would stand it otherwise. I’ve got so much to do before then.’

  ‘You need to throw a few light things in a case,’ Hayden advised. ‘That’s all. Anything else you need you can buy when you’re there.’

  ‘So says the seasoned traveller.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Hayden said. ‘I’m the man who went everywhere with a dozen tour buses. That’s how I know you can manage without them.’

  ‘I am looking forward to it,’ Joy admitted. ‘That doesn’t mean I’m not terrified out of my wits though.’

  ‘Trust me, once you get in the air, the overriding emotion will be boredom. At least in first class you’ll have some gadgets to play with, and you’ve more chance of having a snooze to pass the time.’

  ‘I can’t thank you enough for booking this for me.’ Joy looked at him gratefully.

  He’d paid for Joy’s ticket. Why wouldn’t he?

  ‘I’d never have dared to treat myself to such luxury. You really shouldn’t have.’

  ‘My pleasure. Consider it payment for all the work you’ve done in the garden.’

  ‘Who’ll look after it while I’m gone?’

  ‘I’ll give it a go.’ Hayden shrugged. ‘I’m not exactly Alan Titchmarsh, but I’ll try my best.’

  ‘Come out into the garden today,’ Joy urged. ‘I’ll show you what needs doing. We haven’t seen you outside for weeks, and it’s still lovely out there.’

  He looked out of the window at the blue sky, the fluffy white clouds, and it seemed like a world that was alien to him. ‘Not today, Joy,’ he said. ‘Maybe tomorrow.’

  Before Joy co
uld answer, Crystal’s voice came from the hall, shrill and loud. ‘Hayd! Hayd! Where are you?’

  He and Joy looked at each other and they both rolled their eyes.

  ‘What now?’ Joy said to him.

  ‘Hayd! Hayd!’

  Hayden grinned. ‘Let’s go and find out before she blows a gasket.’

  So he and Joy went out into the hall, where Crystal was running up and down, shouting and waving her arms. In her hand she clutched a postcard.

  ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Have you seen this?’ She waved the postcard again. ‘Of course you haven’t. It’s only just plopped into the postbox at the gate.’

  She handed it over, doing a little dance on the spot. ‘Look who it’s from!’

  It was a postcard from Lyme Regis. Hayden didn’t even need to glance at the back to know who had sent it. If felt as if all the breath had been knocked from his body and he held on to the banister so that he wouldn’t simply sag to the floor.

  He looked at the pretty picture again, the sweep of the bay, the Cobb jutting out proudly into the sea, and his mind rewound to the blissfully happy day they’d spent there together.

  Hayden knew that was where Ayesha would be. In his heart he suspected that he’d known it all along. Nevertheless, the confirmation of it made him feel like lying down on the floor and weeping with relief. They were safe, and that was all that mattered to him.

  With an unsteady hand, he turned over the card. It simply read A & S xx. Even that twisted at his stomach.

  ‘So?’ Crystal said, hands on hips. ‘Where’s the happy dance? Where’s the cry of ecstasy? Even a smile wouldn’t hurt.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ Hayden said. ‘Of course I am.’

  ‘Glad?’ Crystal tutted loudly. ‘Glad? You should be swinging from the chandelier. She wants you to go to her, lame brain. Why else would she have sent that to you?’

  ‘She wants me to know she’s OK,’ Hayden agreed. ‘This changes nothing. I can’t go to her. If I did that, it would only put her in danger again.’

  ‘You’re not serious?’

  ‘Deadly.’

  ‘Joy, tell him he’s being a pillock.’

  ‘There must be some way to make this work, Hayden,’ Joy agreed. ‘It does very much feel as if she’s reaching out to you.’

  ‘You cannot go back to your old life, Hayd. We won’t allow it, will we, Joy? All you do all day is sit in your bloody room. You could show a thirteen-year-old how to do a good mope! You’re back to square one. You’re back to where you were when Laura died.’

  He recoiled as if she’d slapped him, but she carried on.

  ‘This is different, Hayd. Ayesha isn’t dead. She’s still out there and waiting for you to go to her. It doesn’t have to be like this.’

  ‘Someone could be watching me,’ Hayden said flatly. ‘The minute I make a move towards Ayesha, they could be on to her again. I can’t risk that. I know she’s safe. That’s enough for me.’

  ‘You’re a fucking machine,’ Crystal spat. ‘You don’t deserve love.’

  He stood there and took it. ‘You’re probably right.’

  ‘Joy, do something,’ Crystal begged. ‘Get it through that thick skull of his.’

  ‘It’s not good to be alone,’ Joy concurred. ‘Is there really no way round this?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Ayesha knew she was better off without me. That’s why she went. This is her way of telling me not to worry.’

  ‘Call her,’ Crystal said. ‘Perhaps she’ll answer her phone now.’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ he said. ‘If I hear her voice then I will want to go to her.’

  ‘That’s the flipping point!’

  He had to stand firm. If he called her, spoke to her, then he’d be lost all over again. He’d have to go to her, and if he did that, he risked leading Suresh to her. ‘You just don’t see, Crystal. This is how it has to be.’

  ‘Aaaaaargh!’ Crystal cried. ‘There was never anyone more stubborn than you. If you don’t call her then I will. I’ll tell her that you’re not coping without her. That you’ve gone back to living in twilight. I’ll tell her you’re not eating properly, that I’m slowly poisoning you with my crap food. That’ll get her running back.’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Hayden said. ‘Leave her be. She left us for a reason, all of us. She left us for her own safety and that of Sabina.’ These were the hardest words he’d ever had to say, but he believed them and he had to stick by them or he’d go stark staring mad: ‘If we love her, we’ll all leave her alone.’

  Chapter Eighty-seven

  They revved up the motorbikes as they came within reach of the shopping centre, increasing their speed. Suresh felt his own adrenalin surge. His whole being vibrated with the thrill of expectation.

  Pedestrians dived out of the way as they turned off the road and rode straight over the paved concourse, skirting the fountain. The glass doors opened automatically at their approach and they accelerated inside, scattering the early shoppers.

  The corridors of the shopping centre were smooth and wide. They rode along side by side, splitting only to negotiate the marble planters filled with exotic trees. Due to Arunja, they were here later than they’d wanted to be and there were many more people about even at this hour than there had been last time. It wasn’t a problem, though, as they all wisely leapt out of the way as soon as they saw them coming, pressing themselves flat into shop doorways for protection.

  On the back of Flynn’s bike, Suresh cried out and waved his sawn-off shotgun, enjoying watching people flee in fear. This was the life. This was what he was made for. Some people got their kicks out of doing good. He’d realised that he got his kicks out of doing bad.

  Flynn kicked out the bike’s back end and, according to plan, he pulled up outside the wide-open frontage of the jewellery store next to Smith and Arunja. Pausing only for a second, Flynn throttled the bike into life again and they blasted through the doorway.

  As soon as they were inside, the startled staff ran to the back of the store. Suresh jumped off the bike before it came to a halt and Flynn skidded it sideways into a pristine display case, shattering it into a thousand pieces. Diamond necklaces scattered over the floor.

  Suresh brandished his gun at the terrified staff, who huddled together behind the far counter. ‘Get back! Get back!’

  They cowered in the face of his threats. Who was going to be stupid enough to put their life on the line for minimum wage? None of this lot, that was clear. All of this stuff was covered by insurance anyway. It wasn’t hurting anyone.

  Flynn scooped the necklaces into his bag while Suresh smashed cabinets filled with watches with the butt of his gun. He grabbed a tray at a time and stashed them in his bag.

  Out at the front of the store, Smith and Arunja were smashing windows with their hammers, grabbing what they could. His brother had jumped off the bike and was moving along the windows, staving them in as he went. That wasn’t in the plan either. They should have both emptied the windows nearest the bike, for a fast getaway. That was where the most expensive watches were kept. Arunja was smashing the windows just for the hell of it. Suresh cursed his brother’s stupidity.

  Outside, a crowd was already starting to gather, rubbernecking despite the danger. Suresh’s mouth went dry. He realised that the extra half-hour they’d missed due to Arunja’s lateness could cost them dearly.

  ‘It’s time to go,’ Flynn said over his shoulder. He slung his bag on his back and climbed on the motorbike.

  ‘A few more minutes,’ Suresh said. They had to make up for the time lost.

  ‘Now!’ Flynn barked. ‘We’ve got enough.’

  But could you ever have enough? There were trays and trays of expensive watches, glittering diamonds. Ostentatious displays of wealth beyond the reach of ordinary people. They sparkled enticingly in front of him. All here for the taking.

  While Flynn kicked the bike into life, Suresh was still smashing cases, scooping their contents into his
bag. Hundreds of thousands of pounds, like taking candy from a baby.

  Flynn throttled the bike angrily.

  ‘Wait, wait!’ Suresh shouted. ‘I’m nearly done.’ The jewels were so beautiful, shimmering and golden. He couldn’t bear to leave a single one of them behind.

  ‘No can do. I’m not hanging around any longer,’ Flynn said. ‘There’s too much heat. You and Arunja can stay if you want to. I’ll take Smith.’

  Before Suresh could answer, Flynn had roared out of the shop, pausing only long enough to bark at Smith to jump on to the back of his bike.

  That left Arunja and Suresh alone, which wasn’t in the plan either. How could Flynn have left like that?

  Outside the store, he saw Arunja leave the windows, jump on the remaining bike and kick it into life. Suresh saw panic in his brother’s eyes as he rode it into the entrance of the shop. He spun the bike around. On his shoulder a bag bulged with stolen jewels and watches. It looked as if he’d done good work.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Arunja yelled at him. ‘I can hear sirens.’

  That was Suresh’s cue to get out of there. But there was one last display of watches that he really wanted. Among the most expensive watches money could buy – Hublot, Patek Philippe, Jaegar-LeCoultre – they were at the back of the shop and it would be unbearable to leave without them. Not only could he shift them all quickly, but he also wanted one on his own wrist. A trophy for his audacity.

  As he moved towards the staff, he brandished his gun and they shied away from him. He smashed the glass of the display and scooped the watches into his bag. As he bent forward to reach further in, one of the staff from the store rushed at him from behind and jumped on to his back. Suresh dropped his bag and bucked as the have-a-go hero tried to wrestle him to the ground. The man was strong, but not strong enough to overpower him. They fell together and struggled on the carpet amid the broken glass and the rings, bracelets and necklaces that Suresh had missed.

  Arunja turned round on the bike and pointed his sawn-off shotgun at them. ‘Get away, you fucker! Get away!’ he shouted.