‘Yeah, whatever. Long as it’s hot. Haven’t got a drop of brandy to put in it, have you? Who the hell were those murdering idiots in that car?’
Wolf left the room without answering. Lauren collapsed back into the couch. Talk to yourself Keane. She held her hands out in front of her watching her fingers tremble. Jesus, that was some ride. When she closed her eyes she could still see the lights and traffic rushing past, the road speeding below. She’d have nightmares for weeks after that. And where had Katti got to? Why wasn’t she here? She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself then took in the room with a less jaundiced eye.
A lamp with a wrought-iron stand and an oiled paper shade glowed in one corner, the twists and curlicues of the metal throwing crooked shadows on the yellowing wallpaper. A high-backed wing chair stood underneath it and a hulking Germanic sideboard, carved and inlaid, occupied pretty much all of the opposite wall. Pinned above it was a poster of dolphins. She smiled at that. Wolf was like Katti in so many ways. Or maybe it was just the Gypsy coming out in him too. Some ingrained sense of oneness with nature. She rolled her eyes. Give it a rest. She was romanticising again. And about totally the wrong person.
Wolf came in with two blue mugs and put them on the table.
‘Where’s Katz, then?’ Lauren stretched across for one of the mugs. ‘And what was that all about just now? Were those maniacs trying to kill us, or what? Who the hell were they?’ She blew on the steaming coffee. A shot of brandy definitely wouldn’t go amiss after that hair-raising ride, but it didn’t smell like Wolf had added any. ‘Talk to me, Wolf. What’s going on? Is Katti okay?’
‘Katti is not here.’
‘And there’s me thinking she had her invisibility cloak on.’ Lauren spread her hands. ‘I can see she’s not here. Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?’
‘I did not want to get into long explanations at the airport – and we could hardly talk on the bike.’ He slumped into the wing chair. ‘Katti is missing.’
‘Missing? What do you mean, missing? Where’s she gone?’
‘If I knew that, she would not be missing, would she? She’s disappeared.’
‘Jesus, Wolf.’ Lauren slammed her mug down. ‘Why didn’t you say so? How long has she been gone?’
‘I don’t know.’ Wolf tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. ‘I thought she’d be back by now.’
‘You sure she’s not upstairs?’
‘I left her a note. If she had come back, she would have come down.’
‘But I only spoke to her a few days ago. She knew I was coming. She wouldn’t go away when –’
‘No Lauren, I’m sure she didn’t leave just because you were coming.’ His glance suggested he might have though.
Lauren had hoped this visit would allow her to patch things up with Wolf – at least to the extent of them being friends again. Fat chance. ‘When did you last see her?’
‘Monday – when she warned me you were coming.’
Warned you? Lauren gave him her best withering look. ‘That’s what – three days ago? Sheesh, Wolf. Have you called the police?’
‘I don’t suppose she’s been gone that long. It’s not unusual for us not to see each other for a few days. We do have our own lives, you know.’ He stood up. ‘You are lucky I remembered to come to the airport to get you.’
‘Yeah. Thanks for the soothing ride. You’ll be able to prise my fingers from the grip bars any time now.’ Lauren looked up at him. ‘Those guys in that car couldn’t have anything to do with Katti’s disappearance could they?’
‘That had crossed my mind. I can’t see what the connection could be, though.’
‘Any idea who they were?’
‘No.’
Lauren frowned. ‘And you’re sure this isn’t just Katz going off on one of her jaunts? Wouldn’t be the first time.’
Wolf booted a cushion out of his way. ‘Of course it could. This is typical of my sister. You know what she’s like. She has always been irresponsible. But after what happened tonight...’ He stood at the window, flexing his fingers as he gazed into the darkness. ‘I’m wondering if I should be getting worried now. What do you think?’
‘You don’t think someone might have hurt her, do you?’ Lauren rescued the cushion and hugged it to her chest. ‘Nah, who would want to hurt Katz? She’s never harmed anyone. She’ll turn up later, you’ll see.’
But she couldn’t quell the niggling apprehension in her gut. No, Katti wouldn’t up and disappear at a time like this. They’d both been too excited about seeing each other again. She’d have been at the airport. No question about it. ‘You don’t think those guys might have...?’
‘I don’t know what to think.’ He rubbed a hand over his eyes.
She rose and went to stand next to him. ‘Looks like they had it in for you too, then, Wolf. Could have bounced both of us off the tarmac tonight. Why play with us like that? What was the point of it all?’
He was silent for a long time, shaking his head and staring into the street. ‘Ach. It was probably kids playing a stupid prank.’
‘Kids? In a Merc?’
‘Any car can get stolen. They could have tipped the bike over the first time they hit us, if they’d been serious. We would not have stood a chance.’
‘You’ve really no idea who they could be? What this is all about?’ Confused, Lauren drummed her nails on the window ledge. ‘So you don’t think there’s a connection with Katti, then?’
‘I don’t know any more than you do.’ Wolf put his hand over hers as though to calm her, but jerked it away again like he’d been electrocuted.
Lauren moved away, shocked by the fizz of his touch. ‘Have you spoken to anybody about Katz? Friends I mean? See if they know anything?’
‘I rang a few people this afternoon. No one has seen her. And I don’t know all her friends. She has always collected such odd acquaintances.’ He shot a glance at her. ‘I don’t always wish to know them.’
‘And I’m one of these weirdos, is that what you’re saying?’ Lauren huffed out a short laugh. ‘Cheers, Wolf.’
‘I did not mean you.’ He smiled and she saw his reflection in the window. ‘You are one of the less eccentric ones.’
Her lips twitched. ‘Hmm. You saying I’m boring now?’
‘Not at all,’ he said, facing her. ‘You have never been boring, Lauren.’ His eyes softened as they held hers for a moment.
He broke contact and turned back to the window. ‘Katti’s been seeing some guy lately.’
‘Yeah? She didn’t tell me that.’ That’s what came from not staying in touch. You missed all the gossip. ‘What’s his name?’
He lifted his shoulders. ‘She wouldn’t tell me. Perhaps she is ashamed of him. Or of me. She wouldn’t let me meet him, whichever it was.’
‘Well, there you are, then. She’s probably with him. Probably lost track of time. What about ringing her again? You’ve tried her mobile already, obviously?’
‘Katti would rather use pigeon post than a mobile phone.’
‘She’s still not got one? Keep forgetting what a technophobe she is.’ Mobiles and emails frightened Katti. Or she pretended they did. ‘So... what about the police, then? Should we tell them?’
Wolf stared at the drifting snow. ‘She is an adult, Lauren. She is entitled to disappear without notice if she wants to.’ He wound the mechanism that rolled the external shutters down. ‘That’s what they would say.’
Lauren raised her hand to stroke his arm but thought better of it. She went back to the couch.
‘What about ringing round the hospitals? Though if she’d been in an accident – knocked down, say – they’d have contacted someone, wouldn’t they? Carrying ID is still compulsory, isn’t it?’
‘Of course.’ He half-turned. ‘This is Germany.’
‘Well what about your mother?’ Lauren took a sip of coffee. ‘Maybe she knows something.’
Wolf held up his hand like a traffic policeman. ‘No. I don’t want
to say anything until I’m sure Katti’s definitely missing. I do not want my mother upset unnecessarily. I want to tell her face to face, not –’
‘Okay, keep your wig on. Haven’t been in touch with your mother for years, anyway, apart from Christmas and birthdays. Not about to do a flying tackle on the phone right this instant.’ Lauren threw herself back against the couch. ‘She’s got to be told sometime though. I mean, what if –’ She broke off, blocking the unwanted thought.
‘I will go and see her tomorrow, if Katti isn’t back. See if she has heard anything.’ He flicked a glance at Lauren. ‘Do you wish to come with me? Only if Katti is not back by then, of course.’
Lauren watched him smooth the rug with his toe. He was still as shy as ever. But he was warming towards her. Or was that her imagination?‘Sure. I’d like to see her, anyway.’
She fiddled with her cuffs, pulling them down over her cold fingers. ‘You’d better tell the police about Katz sometime though. And we should report that Mercedes right now. Should’ve done that as soon as we got in.’
Wolf shook his head. ‘What would be the point? We did not get the licence number.’
‘But you can’t let maniacs like that terrorise people. Kids or not. I’ll be having bad dreams about it for months.’
‘I am not sure. We don’t have much to go on.’
‘Suppose they do it again, Wolf? Somebody could get killed.’
Wolf let his eyes rest on her. ‘I suppose you are right. For once.’ He eyed the phone for a moment then picked it up.
‘Tell them about Katti, too.’
Four
‘The heating should still be on.’
Wolf held the door open and Lauren tensed as she squeezed past him into Katti’s hallway. The slightest brush against him seemed to set her skin on fire. Ducking her head to avoid eye contact, she strode straight on to the living room.
Katti’s flat was the same layout as Wolf’s but even more crammed with furniture and bric-a-brac. Seemed like neither of them ever threw anything away. Lauren recognised some of the pieces from previous visits to previous flats: the big oak table draped with a rich red chenille throw; the mirror edged with Venetian glass; the bureau with a pull-down writing surface.
The chaise longue was a new addition though. Lauren ran her hand over the worn velvet. She liked Katti’s style, still tried to emulate it. Never could get her own flat to acquire that aura of seedy gentility, though. That was Katti’s talent. All Lauren ever achieved was a mish-mash of junkshop tat and IKEA.
‘You had better eat something,’ Wolf said, waving in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Have a look in the fridge.’ He eyed her up and down. ‘You do still eat, don’t you?’
‘It has been known.’ Lauren shivered. Food wasn’t high on her list of priorities at the moment. A large brandy, however...
‘Well, you know where I am if you need anything,’ he said. ‘See you in the morning. Katti will be back by then. I am sure she will.’
Lauren looked up at him. Who was he trying to convince?
She hugged herself and glanced around. ‘Yeah. Right. Okay.’ She cranked her face into a half-smile. ‘Night, then.’
Sleeping on Wolf’s lumpy settee would have been preferable to a night alone up here but he hadn’t offered it as an option. Katti’s bed was empty. It made sense she should sleep in it. Damn him for his logic, she thought, as she followed him to the front door and double-locked it after him. She slipped the chain on as well.
Not that she was usually this nervous but Katti’s apparent disappearance and that hairy bike ride had left her jittery. The police hadn’t seemed too concerned about the joyriders – if that’s what they were. Not surprising, really. They had so few details to go on. And though Wolf had mentioned Katti being missing, that too was dismissed, as he’d thought it would be. She was an adult. She didn’t owe anyone any explanation as to her whereabouts.
Lauren leaned against the oak door until the echo of Wolf’s footsteps faded. She allowed herself the luxury of five seconds of regret then, pulling in a deep breath and lifting her chin, flipped on the bedroom light. Stop wallowing, Keane.
Like the living room, Katti’s boudoir was a soft mix of purple and plum, crimson and burgundy. A lampshade draped with silk scarves gave the room a pink glow. Several of Katti’s sketches were pinned to the walls – line drawings of friends, animals, sylvan glades; the occasional self-portrait in pastels. The air was heavy with the puke-sweet smell of patchouli oil. The hippy-dippy perfume was embedded in Katti like DNA. It made her what she was: a Gypsy princess.
Lauren sat on the bed, remembering the first time she’d ever heard Katti’s name mentioned. Fifteen years ago. They’d all been eating dinner – herself, her parents and her brothers. As usual, Paul, then about nine, was tormenting five-year-old Peter.
‘Thank Goodness we’re getting an au pair,’ her mother had said, separating the boys. ‘She’ll keep you lot in order.’
‘Yes. She’s German,’ her father said, clicking his heels. ‘Katti Hartmann reporting for duty. It’s next week, she’s coming, isn’t it?’
‘German!’ said Lauren, imagining some bossy Brünnhilde eager to make her life a misery. ‘Will she be living here?’
‘Of course.’ Her mother started clearing the plates. ‘I’ll finally have someone to help me look after you all, thank God .’
‘I’m nearly fifteen,’ Lauren said, affronted. ‘I’m old enough to look after myself.’
‘So am I,’ said her father,. ‘but I’m not complaining.’
Lauren had sulked all the way to the airport, determined to make this interloper as uncomfortable as possible.
She smiled at the memory. Katti – herself barely seventeen – had captured her heart with her first impish smile. From the moment she’d spotted her, with her rucksack and her hippy skirt, Lauren was entranced. Katti became her best friend, her confidante, her role model. It was as though I looked in a mirror, Lauren thought, and saw what I wanted to become.
From that day on all her pocket money was spent in the witchy little boutiques Katti discovered in Camden and Portobello Road. When Lauren twirled, showing off her skirts and scarves and beads, her mother rolled her eyes. ‘You look exactly like I did in the Seventies,’ she said.
‘You two are in a time-warp,’ her father said. ‘Hey, love and peace, man.’ Soon people were saying they looked like sisters – something that amused Katti no end and made Lauren drool with delight. ‘Wir sind Schwestern,’ Katti taught her to say. ‘We are sisters.’
It was the start of a beautiful friendship. Lauren sighed. One she hoped would last a few more years yet.
She pulled off her boots, her spirits plummeting. The room was too quiet, the corners too shadowy. She shuddered. Her nerves were all on edge. Jumping up, she yanked open a cupboard door and peered inside. No axe-murderer’s eyes glittered behind the clothes hanging there, so she closed it and knelt to look under the bed: Suitcases, shoe-boxes and dust.
She tried the window. It was locked and shuttered. And anyway, she told herself, this is the fourth floor. How could anyone get up here? And why would they want to? She wasn’t in any danger. Stop being hysterical, Keane. Nevertheless, she went round all the rooms until she was satisfied. Good. Everything secure. Potential entrances all locked. All rooms free of crouching assassins.
It was time to look for some booze.
~
She woke to semi-darkness and confusion. When she groped for the bedside lamp she knocked a glass over and cursed. Dim light outlined the door and she remembered where she was – in Katti’s bed with the hall light left on for comfort. And she’d just spilled half a glass of the local Silvaner all over the handmade rag rug.
Finding the lamp at last, she clicked it on and slouched back against the pillow, wondering why she was awake. Then she heard it again. The sound that must have woken her. A scratching, tapping, scuffling noise, muffled and secretive, coming from the direction of the hallway.
&
nbsp; Five
‘Sammy. Sammy. Sammy!’ Her head tilts back over the pillow; her rounded breasts arch towards him. He has her wrists held fast, her arms pinned above her head. His long fingers are like manacles against her silken skin. He mumbles words of love into the cloud of hair, finds her earlobe, sucks on it like on a nipple. He rears up, fixing his gaze on her: on her flushed cheeks, her bruised lips, the blue veins on her closed eyelids.
‘Sammy. Sammy! No!’
He thrusts deeply into her. Take that. And that. It’s never been like this before. He wants to own her, cherish her, hurt her. Make her his through the violence of his passion. He releases her wrists and she flings her arms around him, her fingers rake through his hair, her nails scour his scalp. Sliding his hands under her smooth buttocks he lifts her towards him, thrusting deeper and deeper until she contracts and dilates, and contracts and liquefies – and finally the languid humidity of her body assures him of his potency. He rises triumphant above her. But when he flops his head down beside her he is all kisses and love nips and tender words.
~
And later:‘Iss late,’ she slurs. ‘So dark. God, my head.’ She struggles to sit up. ‘Shit. You didn’t wake me, babes.’
He reaches out to her, to hold her, to kiss her. ‘Don’ worry, Pussycat. Shhhhhh.’ He brushes the tangled curls back off her flushed face. ‘Everything’s okay.’
Six
‘Who’s there?’ Lauren made her voice as gruff and belligerent as she could.
‘Katti?’ A young female, apprehensive, cautious.
‘Who is it?’
‘Is me. Alina. You okay?’
Lauren paused, uncertain.
‘Lemme in. Is cold out here.’
Sounded like a child. Lauren pressed her eye against the spy hole. Looked like a child as well – a teenager anyway. She unlocked the door and inched it open, leaving the security chain on. In the dimness of the landing she saw a skinny creature, hair lank, eyes huge. Lauren checked each side of the door for anyone else who might be lurking in the shadows.
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