Breaking East

by Bob Summer

  Holy Moly. For an hour? It had better be good. For that we should expect the full bundle. I stepped forward. ‘Any chance of some Hot Blue?’

  It looked an effort, but she did manage to address me directly with polite, if tight, efficiency. ‘Of course, madam. I’ll have it sent up to Mr Frank’s room.’

  The room turned out to be well smart. It was more like a giant bedsit with two full-size, squichy sofas and a solid oak dining table full of crystal glass and silver trinkets. The Blue arrived almost simultaneously. Stuart thanked and tipped the waiter and then we were alone. ‘Sorry about the, uh …’

  I folded my arms and waited.

  ‘You know? The um … she’s here for an hour stuff.’

  I watched him squirm for a little longer then tried to grin, ouch. ‘No problem,’ I said. ‘It was a great idea, well executed. What do I care what she thinks anyway?’

  His cheeks puffed out as he sighed in relief.

  I wasn’t that scary, surely. ‘You must have some weird fetish picking up a tart with this face.’ I was referring to my bruises but realised too late it might sound like another dig for compliments, so added quick as I could, ‘Nobody would have guessed you were still at school either.’ I tilted my head and nodded. ‘Impressive bit of confidence there.’

  He gave a cute little crooked smile. ‘You drink up and relax. I’ll use the bathroom first. I won’t take long and then you can have a long soak in the tub.’ He didn’t wait for an answer just disappeared with an armload of stuff through a door that matched the walls. Invisible bathrooms, fake IDs, this was his world but one I could easily get used to, even if it meant being branded a professional tart. I lounged back on the bed, supped my drink and turned my phone on. There were several texts off Gavin and a couple off Joe. I opened the first from Joe. Where are you, Atty?

  Joe had a quick mouth when he got annoyed but he’d never used it with me around, certainly not at me. I’d only ever seen him being calm and methodical, even when having to make decisions under all sorts of pressure. I opened his second message. I meant every word about you staying away. Boogah. But I shouldn’t have shouted. I was worried about you. Stuart is missing now too. Stay away from him. And Gemma – it’s being sorted, okay? I turned the phone off and removed the battery. I didn’t know where the chip was located so played safe and put the whole lot into the fish tank in the corner of the room.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Stuart stood in the bathroom doorway watching me prod the plastic casing with a spoon to make it sink.

  The light from the bathroom shone bright behind him and sprinkled through his sticky-uppy hair. I’d seen him at the beach, but indoors, close up, oh boy. One arm hung loose, slightly away from his body in that way guys with beefy torsos have to leave room for their chest. And did he have a chest. And a stomach. A six-packed, toned, lean begging-to-be-touched stomach. The other hand clutched at his right hip holding the teeniest towel in the world, so low it barely covered the necessary. I looked down to his feet and even they were in great shape. Manicured toe nails for God’s sake.

  ‘Atty? What are you doing?’

  ‘You must work out a lot.’ I looked back at the fish tank. ‘I mean, I’m working at killing my phone. Putting it out. Like a shot. Lot.’

  He frowned and walked over to the bed. ‘But why? I thought you said it was chipped?’ For such a big guy he moved so smooth.

  ‘Yeah, ‘I said, ‘but Joe can trace it. I think he might be looking for me.’

  ‘To forgive you? Or to …’ he looked at me. ‘To … I don’t know. What do the resistance do to their guys if they foul up?’

  I didn’t know, not exactly. But this was me, not any old guy. Joe wouldn’t hurt me but he was tamping angry, of that I’d no doubt. I swallowed and watched the phone sink and nestle alongside a tiny castle with weeds waving around it. At least the silence wasn’t total. There were noises from the street and the sound of water running.

  Stuart plucked a bottle of pink liquid out of the chemist bag. ‘I’m running you a bath and I’ll put some of this in. It’ll help with the bruises and aches. I use it after a tough match.’ He returned to the bathroom and poured some of the liquid under the taps. When he bent over and swished the water, his stomach stayed drum tight. Not an extra ounce anywhere. He turned the taps off and ambled out. ‘All yours.’ He rooted through the bags of clothes. ‘And yes, I work out.’

  Pretending not to hear felt safest.

  The bubbly bath water hugged and cossetted my aching body. I have never experienced such delicious luxury. When the water wrapped around my neck I almost wept with pleasure. I couldn’t help myself from breathily announcing, ‘Oh my God. This is sooo good.’

  I lay half asleep until the water began to chill and then examined my knee. It had swollen to twice the size it should have been and looked blue and yellow and red … all colours.

  Stuart knocked on the door. ‘That’s enough. You don’t want any open wounds to get too soft. And I’ve ordered food. It’ll be here soon and I want to see to your face before it arrives.’

  On the back of the bathroom door hung a white towelling robe. I put it on and studied my face. The mirrors were everywhere so I saw the damage from all angles. Pretty messed up. But I’d taken the odd knock before and survived, this would be no different.

  ‘Sit.’ Stuart said as soon as I walked back into the bedroom. He’d dressed in a plain, white tee and black shorts, and had lined up various bottles and jars on the table. He stood over the chair with a pack of swabs in his hand and a grin on his face. ‘Doctor Stuart at your service, ma’am.’

  I sat. ‘Is this what you want to be? A doctor?’

  ‘Hell no. I’m going into politics.’ That surprised me and it must have shown. He laughed. ‘There’s more than one way to make that difference, Atty. And I like my face the way it is. I’m not cut out to do it your way.’

  He cleaned my face and applied some paper stitches before he looked at my knee. The way he touched me made me think of Fluff and the twig. Those strong, gentle fingers. I tingled and blushed when I thought what they might be able to do. I fidgeted and looked away embarrassed.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Stuart. ‘But it needs to be done. We don’t want it getting infected.’

  I made a show of wincing. ‘It’s just a bit sore that’s all.’

  He winked. ‘I understand.’

  I freaking hoped not.

  The food arrived and we ate sitting opposite each other at the table. The lights were low and looking at Stuart set me tingling. I needed to get a grip, we were on the most important job of my life, everybody was chasing our tails, and to top it off he was an easty, which put him on a different planet to me altogether. I gave myself a stern word and put my business head on.

  ‘So, Stuart. What’s the plan?’

  ‘We go to bed.’

  Oh shivering foofles.

  He smiled at the look on my face. ‘Get some rest.’

  ‘Yeah, course.’

  ‘And stop worrying. I’m a gentleman. You were safe in the hut, you’ll be safe here.’

  ‘Of course. I know that.’ I almost added, but will you? As a joke of course, but it felt too dangerous.

  He gave me one of his sparkly-eyed looks and winked. ‘Not that I wouldn’t want to.’

  ‘Um.’

  He grinned and raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Way too complicated to go there,’ I said aiming for woman of the world-esque sophistication. And I got bossy. ‘We have kids to rescue, peace to make, mysteries to solve …’ I waved my fork around. ‘Speaking of which. If your old man is so rich, why do you think he sold Gemma?’

  Well, I know how to kill the mood and that’s a fact. Stuart’s eyes lost their twinkle and he sat back in his chair.

  ‘The reason he has money, Atty, is that he makes it any which way he can. Nobody gets where he has by being nice.’

  ‘Your mum has money too though, right?’

  ‘Not that I’m aware of. She works as a hum
an rights lawyer. A lot of it is voluntary.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘What’s that mean? Ah?’

  ‘I’m guessing that’s why I was asked to look out for you. You know, she might have defended somebody high up in the resistance.’

  Stuart shook his head. ‘Nope. She only works for other professionals. Lawyers, politicians, those people who are locked up for whistleblowing and whatever.’

  ‘So.’ I said. ‘You don’t think there are any resistance members smart enough to have a professional career?’

  ‘That’s not what I said.’

  ‘But if there was a professional resistance member, your mum wouldn’t help them … she’d leave them to rot, yeah?’

  ‘I didn’t say that either.’

  ‘Didn’t have to.’

  He sighed. ‘The resistance have specialised people to represent them. We all need to work to our strengths.’

  Yeah right, that would be it. But I let it go. ‘When did you last see her?’

  Stuart took a drink and paused as if considering whether to answer or not. ‘Couple of weeks. Or so.’

  ‘I haven’t seen my dad for two years.’ I said it before I thought it. Weird.

  ‘Woah,’ said Stuart. ‘What happened?’

  He wasn’t the first to ask but it was tough to talk about. I didn’t think anybody would ever get it. Not Gav, not Fran, not Joe, no one. But Stuart was going through the same sort of thing, even if on a much smaller scale so I talked. ‘Over breakfast one day Dad told me he might be late back after work as he had a meeting to go to. I went to my friend’s house, came home, and cooked the dinner …’ I pushed the last of my food around with my knife, my appetite gone.

  Stuart placed his cutlery together in a central line down his plate. ‘These are strange times. You must never give up hope.’

  ‘Come back when your mum’s been gone two years and tell me that again.’

  He wrinkled his nose. ‘Fair comment.’

  ‘At least you know your mum’s alive.’ The words shot across the table far sharper than I intended. ‘Sorry. It’s not your fault.’ I tried to laugh. ‘Besides, I’m well over it. It was a long time ago. I’m eighteen in a couple of weeks so I won’t be needing him any more.’

  Stuart twirled his glass on the snow-white table cloth. ‘How do I know she’s still alive?’ He studied me. ‘Do you know she’s still alive, Atty?’

  I shrugged, ‘Pretty sure. Dead people can’t request resistance fighters to keep an eye on their kids for them, right?’ I snatched at the bottle of Blue and filled his glass, then my own. ‘She’s alive all right. But first, here’s to finding Gemma.’ I raised my glass.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, barely above a whisper. ‘Gemma.’

  Chapter 14

  I woke first and took another long bath. My bones already felt more like my own again. I fancied the swelling on my knee had gone down a little, even if the colours looked more vivid and varied. My mouth looked better too and my eye was fully open but still no white to it. I spent some time trying to disguise the horror and making my hair look good. My new gear made me feel like a proper chic chick. I stretched some muscles, took a few deep breaths and listened to that inner voice. You can do anything when you put your mind to it, Atty. Dad was right. I felt ready to go and rescue some kids. Bring it on.

  I crept around the room sorting out the stuff to chuck away. Yesterday’s shirt had to go, it stunk something rank. I kicked a shoe and it rolled under the bed. I glanced across to see if the noise had disturbed Stuart and he was lying wide awake watching me. He clearly woke as silently as he slept.

  ‘It’s rude to stare.’ I said.

  He stretched. ‘Can’t help it.’ He swung his legs out of bed and stood upright in one swift movement. ‘I’m going to grab a shower then we’ll make a move.’ I couldn’t resist watching him walk to the bathroom door. He turned. ‘The kit looks good by the way.’ He pushed the door closed and a second later opened it again, a smoky look on his face. ‘Verrrrry good.’

  I smiled, ridiculously chuffed. I couldn’t help but wonder what might happen when all the poop we were in got sorted. I sat in the armchair facing the bathroom door and waited for him to come out. No harm in enjoying the view.

  The shower stopped and Stuart whistled as he packed stuff into rustling bags. There was a knock at the bedroom door. I hoped it might be breakfast which is why I opened it with a high degree of melodramatics, like a matador or something, eager to get the food in and the waiter out so I wouldn’t miss Stuart walking the room in his towel.

  Gavin stood in the corridor.

  ‘Holy shit, Atty.’ He stepped in uninvited. ‘Who the hell did you rob?’ He looked around the ceiling before putting his hand on my hip and kissing me above my ear. ‘You look hot, babes.’

  I checked the corridor but he was alone. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I came to see my girl. Like I said, I’m going to look after you.’

  The whistling from the bathroom had stopped.

  Gavin sauntered around the room, touching the furniture, mouth open, wowing moronically in appreciation. ‘We could get a bundle for this stuff,’ he said. ‘Take it to that set-up over east.’

  ‘Gavin I don’t need you looking after me.’ I scrabbled around my head for an excuse to get him out of there. ‘I’m on a job.’

  ‘Really?’ He sat on the bed, bounced and gave an appreciative nod, like he was some smart-alec hotel inspector. ‘Joe asked me to come and keep you company while you lie low.’ He opened his arms. ‘And here I am.’ He chewed his lip and looked around the room again. ‘Aha.’ He removed the lid of the fish tank, rolled up his sleeve, and dunked his hand to retrieve my phone. His long skinny fingers looked ugly and distorted in the water. ‘This won’t disable the tracker, Atts. You were out of range for a few days though, where did you go? Joe’s been frantic.’

  ‘I was … around.’

  ‘Ah look, the battery has killed the fish,’ he scowled as he shook the drops off his hands. ‘Made the water stink too.’

  The fish floated on top of the water, bug-eyed and slimy. Of course Joe must have known I’d been seeing Gavin. Joe knew everything, especially about me. He’d made it his job to know what I was doing, when, and with whom since the day my dad had walked. Other kids got away with all sorts but not me. Joe would have looked at Gavin on paper and deemed him suitable. Gavin didn’t do drugs, kept under the Law radar, and had a solid record of helping out the resistance as and when required. What wasn’t to like? The fact that he lacked ambition, slept around and relied on his lean good looks to get favours, slipped past Joe completely. In fact, two of those were admirable qualities if you were a geezer in charge of the resistance.

  ‘Atty?’ Gavin lay on the bed. ‘Come here.’

  Oh God. ‘No. You have to leave, Gavin. You can’t stay here.’

  He sat up. ‘Why?’

  Still no noise from the bathroom.

  ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ I said, trying to sound calm.

  ‘Why? Not gone shy on me all of a sudden, have you?’

  I squawked a laugh. ‘I need some air, that’s all.’

  ‘You do look a bit peeky-eyed now you mention it. All the better reason to have a lie down.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I guess you scammed that soft guy Stuart for a few quids. Do you reckon you can afford a couple more nights here? We’d have a right laugh.’ He ran his hands across the bed. ‘Especially in this.’

  My skin crawled. I thought about Stuart sitting and listening in the bathroom and my hairline heated up a sweat. ‘Well.’ I slapped my thighs. ‘I’m going to take a stroll, coming?’

  ‘I bet he tried it on with you though, didn’t he?’ Gavin looked delighted, excited even. ‘Eh? Them sort reckon all the girls on the west are easy. I bet you gave him a good smack …’ He stopped and looked away.

  And then I remembered the last time I saw him. ‘Yeah, you know how I can give a good smack.’ I recalled the ga
wp on his face as he watched me getting thrown out of the pub.

  He had the decency to look embarrassed. ‘It all happened so quickly, Atts. I tried to stop them, honest, but before I knew what was happening you were gone. And I didn’t know where and … I dunno. It all got a bit messy.’

  ‘Yeah, tell me about it. I bet you never told Joe you watched me getting battered did you? See this.’ I pointed at my face. ‘Look what they did to me and you stood there and let them. And you’ve got the fannicking cheek to prance in here stroking the bed and suggesting we have a laugh.’ I was panting so took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down and take control. ‘I need you to leave.’

  ‘But Joe asked me to come and get you, take you to a safe house. You know what he’s like. He’ll go mad if I go home without you.’

  ‘Tough.’

  We stared at each other. Me knowing I couldn’t force him out. It’s only that mad, red-rage that gives me the adrenaline boost to do a number like I did on Carl.

  Gavin reached for my hand. ‘But I’m worried about you. The other night? At your place? It meant everything to me. It’s only ever been you I want, Atts.’

  Jeeesh. I wanted to leap and put my hand over his mouth or sing ‘La la la’ at the top of my voice like a kid ignoring a rollicking - anything to get him to shut the hell up. ‘Well it meant zero, zilch, sticky sweet nothing to me.’ Then added. ‘Not that there was anything to feel anything about, we didn’t do anything.’ I raised my voice for that last bit, to make sure Stuart heard. ‘I don’t want you, Gav, never have, now please leave.’

  Gav’s look changed from one of pathetic weed to sneering cockiness. ‘Oh. Now I really do get it.’ He looked around, hunting for evidence. ‘He’s been here hasn’t he? You’ve been playing him.’ He stood up. ‘You’ve slept with him.’ He hooted. ‘You have. You’ve bedded an easty for info. Or was it just to get a night in a posh hotel?’ He looked wide-eyed and wired to the max. ‘All those times you’ve banged on about how all those over-privileged nob-heads are responsible for everything from the price of eggs to your mum getting her head knocked off and here you are shacked up in a hotel with some easty ponce and his wallet.’ He stepped forward, getting in my face, his breath spattered tiny specks of cold spit against my forehead. ‘You’re nothing but a slag. No. More than that. You’re a hypocritical slag.’