"Good. That means I get you to myself," Callum whispered back."I missed you. I want to take you out and don't give me any bullshit about getting back to me. I want a time and a place. Now."
Would it be wrong to admit I enjoyed him bossing me around, even jokingly? Because I did. Too much.
"How about you come up north this time?" I asked, trying for playfulness when what I really wanted to do was crawl into his lap and kiss him until neither of us could breathe. "And I, uh, I missed you too."
"You did?"
He was grinning widely, enjoying my self-consciousness. We were sitting very close to each other - close enough that I could smell the scent of his neck, warm and masculine, close enough that our faces were mere inches apart. It was impossible to keep myself from feeling anything except attraction when I was around Callum. All my sensible thoughts about slowing down, maybe even backing off, went out the window the minute he was near me.
"Well, yeah," I said quietly, tingling with the need to feel his hands on me. "We should go to that place in Soho, the Dog and - what was it?"
"Duck?"
"Yeah, the Dog and Duck."
The scrawny little barman, Stan, interrupted us then with another round of pints, including one for Callum.
"Oh, you're so sweet. You only have to ply one of us with alcohol but you bought a whole round!" Pandora ribbed Callum, who just smiled back, amused.
I kept an eye on what glass he drank from and made note of where he put it on the table. Was I really going to do this? Why wouldn't I? It wasn't a betrayal, after all, it was just part of a larger series of questions, a step that needed to be taken to exclude Callum from a list that included Gazza and his associates at the Streatham Men's Club. If I positioned it a certain way in my head, it could even be seen as doing him a favor. Of sorts.
I tried to keep an eye on Gazza, but being involved in a face-to-face conversation with Callum wasn't very conducive to that. Gazza wasn't drinking - or, if he was, it was in his office and from his own private supply. He probably had a coffee-maker in there, too. I decided to wait and see if, when the house lights went down for the fights, I might have a chance to sneak in there, but somehow I doubted it. There was also the listening device in my bag and I was getting more and more certain that placing it, even just under the bar, probably wasn't worth the risk, especially with the DNA results we now had.
Callum stayed at our table, chatting with everyone but mainly focused on me, which I admit I reveled in, just a little. When the lights were dimmed to indicate the fights were about to begin, he leaned in and whispered in my ear:
"Do you really want to watch this? Let's get out of here."
I didn't want to watch the fights. I also didn't want to leave without any samples collected.
"I don't know," I lied, as eager to be alone with him as it seemed he was to be alone with me. "Let's just watch the first one and see."
Callum shrugged. "Whatever you want, gorgeous girl."
Oh God, he was good. He was really good. He slipped one big, solid hand over my knee and gave me a squeeze and I nearly melted into my chair.
As soon as everyone's pints were starting to look slightly less than half-full I got up, announced that the next round was on me and walked to the bar with the sound of my own rapid pulse thumping in my ears.
"Six, Stan. Two Strongbows, three lagers and one stout."
"Coming right up," he replied, his voice breaking endearingly on the 'up'.
The lights were off in the Club at that point - there was a single spotlight hanging over the ring and that was it. I glanced over my shoulder and behind me, trying to make it look like a casual I'm-just-waiting-for-my-drinks gesture. No one was looking. Callum wasn't at our table anymore but I couldn't see him, he must have gone to the bathroom. With Stan's back turned I plucked three empty pint glasses off the bar, all of which had been used by the men Gazza had been talking to earlier. There was no time to bag them and they clinked against each other worryingly. Even in the dark, I realized it was going to be impossible to stretch across the bar and curl my fingers under the lip on the other side in order to place the listening device. Stan was standing right there, and it wouldn't have gone unnoticed. Damnit.
When I got back to the table, Callum was still absent. I knew it was my moment. All four of my companions were focused on the fight, as was everyone else around us. I hadn't even noticed who was fighting. I did another quick check and picked up Callum's empty glass, depositing it gently in my bag and covering it with a scarf before zipping it back up. Everyone was still watching the fight. I breathed a slow, steady sigh of relief.
"So, have you seen enough bad fighting for one evening?"
I startled slightly when Callum came up behind me and whispered the question in my ear.
"You're a jumpy one, Lily. Come on, let's get out of here, I want to show you something."
I turned to face him. The dim light from over the ring was catching his eyes, highlighting their clear, pale aqua. What was I going to say? No? I had all the glasses I was going to be able to collect that night, even if I'd failed to get the one that really mattered: Gazza's. There's no way you're going to get into that office, I told myself. I was probably right. Still, I left with Callum knowing a chance might still have arisen and that leaving was closing the door on that chance. I know I had a choice, but it didn't feel like it at the time. At the time the only thing I could think about was being alone with him.
"Sure, OK," I said, "I just need to go to the bathroom. Give me five minutes."
In the bathroom stall I sat down on the toilet and went about bagging each pint glass, writing the letter 'C' on Callum's and leaving the others blank because I couldn't be sure which man had actually drunk from which glass. Then I wrapped the scarf around them so they wouldn't make as much noise and walked out, pleased that I'd managed to get at least something related to the investigation done.
Pandora was there, standing in front of the mirror and fussing with her eye make-up. I hadn't heard her come in.
"Lily," she said, catching my eye in the mirror, "why do you look so surprised? You doing lines in there? It's rude not to share, you know."
I forced a laugh. "Uh, no. You just - I didn't hear you come in, you surprised me."
"Did I? I'm sorry. Just checking my face. Also wondering why it is that a girl who makes decent money needs to be stealing pint glasses."
I blinked. Fuck. Fuck!
"Oh, I, uh, I was just, I thought it would be nice to have some at home and, um, I don't have as much money as you-"
Pandora turned to face me. "Listen, I'm going to spare you the embarrassment of making up a story. Are you a copper?"
I froze.
"Don't worry, we're alone - and I'm not trying to ruin anything here, Lily, I'm just curious is all. You're the first girl Daddy's ever hired for the agency that I didn't go to school with and you were just sort of plopped in one day with no warning. I thought it was odd. Then you seemed so damned eager to do nothing with any of us except come down here to watch the fights. I invited you out loads of times. Nothing. You only wanted to come here. And I can see you dancing around that hottie - Callum - like there's something holding you back. It just got me thinking, is all."
As soon as I was able to move again, I bent down and looked under the door of the other stall to make sure we really were alone. Heat prickled up the back of my neck and rose into my cheeks. I had to make a decision, and I had about ten seconds to make it. My mind raced through my knowledge of Pandora. Rich, privileged, bossy, fun, but quick on her feet when she wanted to be and smarter than she at first came across. Her father was retired from his job as one of the very highest-up at the Met, and he was still friendly with Superintendent Akin. The PR agency was something he ran on behalf of one of Pandora's brothers, who had decided that he'd rather be partying in Thailand than bothering to run his business. It had been coincidence that his daughter and her friends happened to hang out at the same Club that we wanted to in
vestigate, and Akin had taken the opportunity to ask a favor of an old, retired friend. It was that - Pandora's father being an ex-cop - that made the decision for me. Her father had made the Met his life. Hopefully Pandora had some kind of familial loyalty to law enforcement? I took a deep breath and nodded slowly.
"OK. Alright, yes, I'm a cop. I'm a DCI. There's an ongoing investigation into the Streatham Men's Club and I'm leading it."
I looked down at the dirty bathroom floor and took another breath as a feeling of possible impending doom enveloped me. "And Pandora, I hope you can keep this to yourself because if you don’t, you may be risking letting a murderer go free, not to mention possibly my own career - or hell, my life, because these people have shown they're willing to take drastic measures."
Pandora covered her mouth with her hand and bounced up and down.
"Oh my God! Oh my God Lily - if your name is even Lily - how exciting! How perfectly exciting! You're a real-life badass cop gone undercover to catch the bad guys!"
I bit back a patronizing 'Jesus Christ' - everything was a fucking game to Pandora - and confirmed that my name was indeed Lily.
"Oh wow. WOW! This is so cool. I thought it was so weird the way Daddy hired you, I knew it. I knew it! And then those glasses tonight, you're collecting DNA samples, aren't you? This is just like one of those American TV shows. How wonderful."
I stood in front of Pandora, unsmiling and waiting for her to calm down. When she seemed to, I had a few questions of my own.
"So I have to ask you this, Pan, because the answers will determine whether or not I'm still safe here - at the Club, I mean - but have you discussed this with anyone? Do all of the other girls know?"
She looked annoyed at that. "What? Lily, I'm sorry, but do you take me for a fucking imbecile?"
"I don't know, Pandora, are you? You certainly seem very amused by all of this. Someone was murdered. I'm trying to catch who did it. I'm sorry if I don't really see anything funny or entertaining about that."
Pandora's body language had changed entirely in the space of less than a minute. She looked me in the eye.
"OK, Lily. Alright. There's no need to patronize me. I know you think I'm some spoiled rich girl who's never had to struggle for anything - you're actually pretty much right about that, too. But as you'll be well aware, my father was the Deputy Commissioner for eight years and as I hope you'll also be aware, I'm not utterly stupid. Of course I haven't mentioned it to anyone, nor will I. Your secret is safe with me - and I mean that, I have not and I will not tell a soul. You might want to try being a little less condescending, though."
At the same time my body was relaxing with relief that Pandora had kept her mouth shut, my irritation levels were rising. Was I being given a goddamned lecture by someone who had just blown my cover - admittedly only to herself - in the very venue I was investigating? She could see I was pissed off, too.
"Want one?" She asked, leaning back against the sink and pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her bag.
I shook my head as she lit up.
"Listen, Lily. I'm sorry I got all silly there for a moment. I know what you think of me - of us - you think you hide it well, but you don't."
I didn't quite know what to say to that so I just stood there for a few seconds not speaking and frankly surprised to be getting some level of realness out of Pandora.
"Alright," I replied, "Are we being truthful now? What do you think I think of you? Because from my perspective it's mainly hanging out with a group of people I have nothing in common with and whose social coding I don't know very well. Most of the time I'm just praying I don't say something that might allude to the fact that I didn't go to the best schools or spend all my winters in Klosters. I feel like an alien with you guys, but you're wrong if you think I don't like you. I just don't understand you or your world. If anything, I feel like you all think of me as some Canadian weirdo who got foisted on you."
Pandora cocked her head to the side, giving the distinct impression that she was actually listening to what I said.
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I'm constantly paranoid that I'm going to use the wrong fork at lunch and out myself as a savage."
"Huh," Pandora said, taking another delicate drag on her cigarette. "I never thought of it that way. You just seem so, I don't know, independent, or not really interested. Like you think we're all boring and stuck-up."
It was one of those conversations, one of those honest, rare interactions where two people who may not understand each other well just decide to listen to each other in good faith. So I went with it.
"I don't think you're boring and stuck-up, Pandora. I mean, maybe I do - or maybe I did, a little. But part of that is jealousy or maybe some kind of inferiority complex. Everyone treats you with such deference, and you're all so damn...confident. I'm actually kind of glad we're talking about this."
"Yeah," Pandora replied, "me too."
That conversation in the bathroom of the Streatham Men's Club changed my relationship with Pandora. I felt it happening as we were talking, but it continued after that. She kept my secret and that made me feel a lot freer to trust her - not with information about the investigation, but just with the usual things women share with other women. She was warmer towards me, too. We probably would have stayed in there for hours, talking up a storm, if we hadn't been interrupted by a sharp knocking on the door and Gazza's voice on the other side:
"Is someone smoking in there? This is a no-smoking building."
Pandora and I widened our eyes at each other, grinning. Gazza was constantly smoking in his office and the whole place reeked of it.
I mouthed the words "what a dick" at Pan and she giggled as she ran her cig under the tap water and threw it in the garbage. When we walked out Gazza was standing there, glaring at us.
"No smoking, girls."
Gazza was exactly the type of man who called grown women 'girls'. I thought Pandora might be about to deliver a biting retort when Callum walked up and addressed Gazza himself.
"What's going on? You want me to kick these troublemakers out? You ready to go, Lily?"
I looked at Pandora and she just gave me a quick nod and a smile. "Have a good night, Lily. I'll see you at the office."
Chapter 13: Callum
Lily tucked her arm under mine after we walked out of the Club and I couldn't help leaning down to kiss the top of her head.
"Mmm," I said, "you smell... fruity."
"Do I?" She asked, looking up at me. I loved it when Lily looked up at me like that."It's probably shampoo. The store only had the brand that makes you smell like melon and kiwi."
"That's handy, because I prefer my women to smell like fruit salad."
She giggled."So, where are you taking me? Another pub?"
"Actually, yes, but somewhere specific. It has snooker tables."
"Oh! Really? Are you going to teach me how to play?"
"Well, I can probably teach you some basics, but it's going to take more than one night to make a snooker player out of you."
She leaned into me then, so I got another whiff of her shampoo on the cold night air and it crossed my mind to take her home instead. Except I knew she wouldn't go for it. She was as wary as a wild animal and she wasn't going to be led easily, that much was certain. I was still trying to pretend, at that point, that I wasn't already completely sucked in.
When we got to the pub it was busy, but not too bad. I recognized a bunch of the regulars and we exchanged nods. This made Lily give me a curious look.
"Is this your 'local’?”
"Yes, it is. Did you think it was the Streatham Club? Nah, that's work. This is the pub I had my first drink in, the one I spent my teenage years puking in the toilets of. This is my neighborhood pub," I told her, thinking it was best to leave out the parts that involved myself and various girls and what we got up to in those same grotty toilets.
She looked around, taking everything in in that careful way she had about her.
&nb
sp; "It's nice. I like it. The atmosphere is more relaxed than the Streatham Club."
I asked her what she was drinking and bought us each a pint. Then I took her to the back where the two snooker tables were and we sat down to watch for a few minutes.
"So, how is this different from pool?" She asked, facing me. I liked it when Lily asked me questions. In fact, after she asked me that one it occurred to me that maybe one of the reasons I'd brought her to the pub in the first place was specifically so she would ask me questions I knew the answers to. It was my territory.
"Do you know pool, then?"
She laughed. "Nope. I mean, I know the balls need to go in the pockets, but not much else."
"Well then, I guess it doesn't matter much. But snooker is more fun than pool, more complicated. The table is bigger and the balls are smaller."
Did I catch her smirking at the smaller balls comment? I couldn't tell.
"Why are there so many red balls?"
"Those are worth one point. You always have to pot a red ball before you pot a colored ball - and the colored balls are worth more. The black ball is worth the most."
"Ah, OK. Do you think we can play?"
I wanted nothing more than to play, because playing would involve coaching her on her stance, and that would involve bending over her from behind.
"Sure, let them finish this one and then we can have a go."
"OK!"
Everything about being with Lily made me happy. I could have stayed there watching other people play snooker, listening to her adorably enthusiastic comments for days on end. I still wasn't sure what exactly it was about her that had me so entranced - until I met her I'd never quite been able to believe it whenever any of my mates fell madly in love. I'd just assumed they were exaggerating for their girlfriend's benefit. But Lily was starting to make me think I'd been very wrong.
When our turn came I got my chance, standing close behind her and showing her how to bend over and place her fingers on the table to balance the cue properly.
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