by Emma Tallon
Tanya slid into the chair next to her and crossed her slim legs, facing her friend with a happy smile on her face.
‘Glad you’re here anyway. What you drinking? Why you all dressed up? You off out?’
‘No, no plans. Same as you, actually, was a bit bored, fancied a drink.’
‘Oh well, that’s nice, ain’t it?’ Tanya’s voice rose a few octaves. ‘I didn’t get no text asking to join you, did I!’ She pushed Anna playfully.
‘Sorry, just sort of headed here. Wasn’t really planning anything in particular.’
Tanya’s smile faded slightly as she studied Anna’s expression. Her tone turned to one of concern.
‘Mate, what’s wrong?’
Anna didn’t reply, just winked and half smiled as if to indicate that she was OK.
Tanya turned to Carl. ‘I think we need cocktails. What do you reckon, Carl, want to whip us up something special and outrageous, eh? Girls’ night out?’
‘Definitely. I’ll whip up one of my new recipes. Give me a few minutes.’ Carl took the subtle hint and moved to the other end of the bar to make the drinks, giving them some space.
Tanya rubbed Anna’s arm gently. ‘Come on, what’s going on?’ she asked, quietly.
Anna leaned forward, placing her elbows on the bar and resting her forehead on her hands.
‘I don’t really know, Tan. That’s the problem.’
‘What? I need a bit more than that.’
‘Freddie. He’s acting really weird. That whole thing with my birthday, he still hasn’t explained any of it. He’s been out late each night since and just acting really distracted.’
Tanya chewed her lip and answered slowly. ‘Well… I mean, that’s not really out of the ordinary, is it? It’s, you know… well that’s just Freddie, ain’t it?’ She shrugged apologetically. ‘You aren’t describing anything new. He’s always been like that, and you’ve always been OK with it.’
‘Yeah, but…’ Anna turned her body towards Tanya and tried to find a way to explain what she meant. ‘It isn’t like usual, you know? Like… when I say distracted, I don’t mean how he usually is. It’s different – something is different. But I can’t work it out, because he won’t talk to me. Usually, if I outright ask something, he always answers. But he won’t tell me what’s going on this time; he’s actively keeping secrets. That’s not like him.’
‘Well, maybe it’s for your own good then. You know Freddie. You know he loves the bones of you. He wouldn’t do something to piss you off unless he had to.’
‘Maybe.’ Anna stared into the distance. ‘Or maybe he’s doing something he shouldn’t.’
‘Well, he does a lot of things he shouldn’t. That’s his job.’ Tanya laughed.
‘Yes. Unless it’s something he shouldn’t do in respect of our relationship.’ Anna’s voice shook a little as she said it out loud.
Tanya’s laughter stopped abruptly. ‘No. Don’t even go there. He ain’t like that, not with you.’
‘Not with me?’ Anna picked up on the end of Tanya’s sentence. Tanya kicked herself. She hadn’t meant to say that bit out loud. Anna didn’t know much of what Freddie had been like before her, romantically. Which was a good job, really – he had been a bit of a wildling. She was the woman who’d finally tamed him.
‘Well, yeah, you know… just, he ain’t like that.’ Tanya tried to recover and bluff it out.
‘No, you said not with me. Which implies he has been like that with other people. So tell me?’ She stared Tanya out.
Tanya felt herself growing red. She was no good at lying to Anna. Anna knew her better than anyone.
‘Oh, Anna, that was donkey’s years ago. He was young and hot-blooded. He ain’t like that these days.’ Still, she felt a flicker of doubt enter her mind. Was he still like that, deep down? She pushed the thought away firmly. Freddie loved Anna. ‘Anna, you’re just being paranoid. He might have been a bit of a Jack the Lad when he was wet behind the ears, but that makes no difference to how he is with you now. He worships you, and what’s more, he actually respects you. He wouldn’t mess things up. You’re his family, and you know what family means to him.’
Anna mulled Tanya’s words over for a moment. ‘I hope so.’ She sighed heavily. ‘But there’s definitely something going on, and I need to find out what it is. Because something just doesn’t feel right.’
Carl returned with two large, overly decorated cocktails and a bowl of sweets.
‘Here you go, girls. Get these down you. I call them Carl’s Sherbet Lemons. I have a whole load of new ones actually. I was going to show you them soon, see if we can work some of them onto the new menu. Tonight is as good a time as any.’ He pushed them towards Anna and Tanya and they both tried the mixture.
‘Oh, that’s lush,’ said Tanya. ‘Might wake up diabetic tomorrow, the amount of sugar in there, but it does taste good.’
‘Mm, it does taste exactly like a sherbet lemon. That is interesting.’ Anna was pleasantly surprised. ‘What other ones have you got?’
‘OK, so I have the Palma Violet, the Toffee Apple…’ Carl began to reel off his extensive list of cocktails. Anna listened with great interest, finally distracted from her woes. Tanya pretended to listen and studied Anna quietly. Anna really was worried. She made a mental note to collar Freddie the next time she saw him and find out what he was up to. Whatever it was, he needed to put a stop to it. Anna was very black and white, a no-nonsense kind of girl. The reason she and Freddie worked so well was because he was so open. She needed that. After all she had been through before, Anna couldn’t bear not to feel in control. If he wasn’t careful, he could really mess that up. She really hoped he didn’t, for both of their sakes.
20
Freddie walked quickly into the large warehouse, Paul marching along by his side. It looked abandoned from the outside and was surrounded by tall wire fences topped with barbed wire. Danger signs hung from the locked gate. These were, of course, fabricated; the site was perfectly safe and far from abandoned.
The pair passed room after room, empty other than the old bits of broken-down equipment and battered furniture that the previous owners had left behind. A hum of general activity sounded from ahead and they slowed down. This must be it.
Freddie paused outside one of the occupied rooms as they passed. The door was closed, but he could see through the window. Tilting his head to the side he watched as several workers in gloves, face masks and hairnets went about their work. He followed the woman nearest to him with his eyes. She picked up one of the thick bricks of cocaine and split it in a tray. Measuring out a specific amount of bicarbonate of soda from a large box, she added that to the cocaine and mixed it in. When she seemed satisfied that it was evenly mixed, she balled the cocaine back up using its natural stickiness and sealed it into a bag.
Opening the door, Freddie stuck his head in and addressed her as she passed to grab another brick.
‘Hello.’ He grinned charismatically. ‘What’s the ratio of the bicarb you’re putting into the coke?’ He pointed at her work station. Her eyes widened, unused to such bold intrusion by someone she didn’t know.
‘Sorry?’ she asked, her voice quiet and unsure.
‘No need to be,’ Freddie joked, winking. ‘What’s the ratio again?’ He raised his eyebrow expectantly and waited.
‘Er, twenty-five per cent bicarb, same as always,’ she replied.
‘Great, thanks.’ Freddie nodded goodbye and shut the door. His smile dropped, replaced by a grim look.
They continued down the hallway until they reached the end, where it opened up into a large space with dusty windows all around. The room was bare except for a smart-looking, dark-brown sofa, two matching armchairs and a coffee table in the middle. A beige patterned rug lay underneath the strange lounge area, giving it a cosy feel. A middle-aged, darkly tanned man stood up when he saw the brothers walk through the door. He smiled, and bright white veneers shone out against his weathered skin. He stepped forward to welcome the
m in.
‘Freddie, Paul, how wonderful it is to see you again.’ A deep Spanish accent curled around his words as he spoke.
‘Marco, good to see you too.’ Freddie shook his hand and took the seat offered to him. Paul followed suit. There was a tray with biscuits and fresh coffee on the table in front of them, and Marco poured them each a cup.
‘This is Spanish coffee, from back home. Not many people know this but we have a special way of roasting the beans back in my home town.’ He handed Freddie and Paul two coffees and went about making his own. ‘Back in the twenties, they began to add sugar during the roasting process. It would create a glaze on the bean and preserve it for longer. People realised that not only did it do a good job of preservation, it also added something special to the taste and the aroma.’ Marco talked with passion. ‘Please, try it – tell me what you think.’
Freddie took a sip and nodded, enjoying the subtly sweet smoky flavour. ‘It’s good. What’s it called?’ he asked with genuine interest. He enjoyed decent coffee and liked the idea of adding this to his selection at home.
‘This process is called torrefacto. You cannot get these beans in a shop, but there are other fabulous Spanish beans which go through the same process.’
‘OK.’ Freddie nodded and made a mental note. He looked around at the strange, empty warehouse with the lounge in the middle.
‘How long you been running things from here?’
‘Oh, about two years, give or take a little. It has been a good location. No one comes this way, and it is well protected. It has been my favourite base since leaving my operations in Spain. I did have a wonderful set-up in Spain, but’ – he shrugged – ‘London has a much bigger need for my services. I cannot sit in my small town and ignore that call.’
Freddie studied Marco as he continued talking about his home town. He didn’t know Marco very well; they had only met a short time ago, through Bill. He dressed smartly and his rather flamboyant blue suit was made from quality material. His watch and the ring on his finger were expensive. He clearly had a lucrative operation. Was this because he was the best or was it because he was skimming off the weight of the product he was selling to unknowing clients?
‘… and they sell the most beautiful, ripe tomatoes in the local markets. Nothing like you see here. So flavoursome, so pure.’ He kissed his balled fingers in a show of appreciation.
Freddie smiled tightly. ‘Pure, indeed… and what about your product? Is that pure? I’d like to test some, if you could bring some over.’
‘Of course.’ Marco clicked his fingers at one of the men standing by the door and he disappeared.
It was standard practice to test the product before committing to anything in their business, so Marco took no offence. Within a minute Marco’s man was back with a small silver serving tray. On it was a mound of fluffy, white powder.
Paul pulled a small testing kit out of his pocket and laid it out on the table. Using a tiny plastic spoon he picked up a small amount of the product. He carefully levelled the spoon so that there wasn’t too much and tipped it into a test tube. Opening a small plastic bottle, he squeezed a clear liquid into the tube, swirling it around to mix with the cocaine. Almost immediately the liquid turned a deep reddish brown. Paul nodded to Freddie and held up the vial for him to see.
‘High purity,’ Freddie confirmed. Leaning forward he dabbed at the powder, picking some of it up with his finger. He rubbed it into his top gum and ran his tongue around the area. It went completely numb, and there wasn’t too much of a sharp tang to the taste. He nodded. ‘Not bad.’
He sat back in the chair and stared levelly at Marco, twisting his mouth to one side. It was top-quality product, the shit on the tray, but was it what they were actually going to get?
‘Question, Marco… what form does it come to me in? How will it be packaged? If I make a large order, I need to size it up for storage.’ He asked the question lightly. He exchanged a look with Paul. His brother knew what he was asking and sat forward, also interested in Marco’s response.
‘Well’ – Marco met Freddie’s gaze – ‘for you it will come in one-kilo bricks. For Freddie Tyler I would not consider anything else.’ He nodded graciously. ‘It will come to you as it is now, on this tray.’
Freddie nodded slowly. ‘How would it come for other clients?’ he asked.
Marco shifted uncomfortably. ‘That depends entirely on the client,’ he replied, before pursing his mouth.
‘Right.’ Freddie looked at Paul. ‘Good. That’s the right answer. I’ll take five bricks now, and if everything is up to scratch we can talk about a higher amount and an ongoing contract.’
‘Perfect. I can have them in a bag ready to go in five minutes. Diego.’ He clicked at the man by the door again. Diego nodded, having heard the conversation, and disappeared to get the product.
Marco turned back to Freddie and clapped his hands together. ‘Now, that will be three hundred thousand dollars. How will you be paying?’
‘I’ll pay you two hundred and fifty thousand, same as I pay all my suppliers. Fifty grand a brick, American dollars, non-negotiable. Where am I transferring to?’
‘Fifty thousand… this is—’
‘Marco’ – Freddie’s tone was sharp – ‘I don’t negotiate, and that’s a fair price. You either want my business or you don’t. They’re your two options. Choose.’
Marco breathed heavily as he considered Freddie’s words. He wanted Freddie’s business badly. Freddie and his firm ran Central London, and if he played his cards right, he could end up being their biggest supplier. But Freddie’s offer was ten grand less per kilo than he liked to charge, which would eat into his profits considerably. He warred with himself. He was a man who had expensive tastes, but on the other hand the profit would still be fairly good, and the scale of Freddie’s future orders would hopefully be very high. He eyed the younger man and noted the unwavering, steely look in his eye. Freddie Tyler would not be moved on his decision, this much was very clear.
‘OK, fifty thousand per kilo it is. You kill me, Freddie Tyler. Another dollar less and I starve,’ he added dramatically, waving his arms as though he had been defeated, ‘but I feel we have a good, long working relationship ahead of us, so I give you that price with my blessing.’
‘Good. Let’s move forward then. Where do you want the money?’
‘I have a consultancy company set up in South America.’
‘Columbia?’
‘No, Peru. Better value, not so many beheadings.’ He shrugged casually as though he was discussing the weather. Paul hid a grin. He liked the eccentric Marco. He found him very amusing. He couldn’t let on though; Freddie liked them to keep the upper hand with suppliers with a hard-fronted poker face. It kept them from getting too comfortable.
‘OK, get me the details and I’ll get that sent over now.’
‘Perfect. Well, Freddie Tyler, I am excited about our future.’
Freddie took Marco’s proffered hand and shook it. ‘Me too, Marco. Me too.’
Anna walked into the little coffee shop and smiled at the woman waving her hands at her excitedly. She wove through the busy tables until she reached her, then sat down, leaning over and hugging her friend in greeting.
‘Hello, how are you?’ she asked, her voice happy. It had been years since she had seen Amanda, though they messaged from time to time. The pair had been friends at university.
‘I’m OK, thank you. How are you? I can’t believe it’s been so long. You don’t look a day older than the last time we met,’ Amanda replied sunnily. ‘I took the liberty of ordering you a skinny vanilla latte,’ she continued. ‘I don’t know if you still drink them, but I remember that’s all you used to drink when we were younger.’
Anna laughed heartily. ‘Oh my God, I can’t believe you remember that! I do still drink those, yes. Thank you.’ She settled in and shrugged off the thin cardigan she was wearing over her dress. ‘It’s so hot in here.’
‘Yes, it is a b
it. Sorry, I should have picked somewhere better.’
‘No, no, this is fine,’ Anna quickly reassured her friend. ‘It’s just lovely to see you. I have to admit it was a surprise hearing from you out of the blue. A great surprise, of course.’
‘Yes, well… I have a bit of business I had to attend to in the city, so thought I would kill two birds with one stone,’ Amanda answered.
‘Ah, I see. Are you working again now? I think the last time we spoke you had just had your second and had decided to stay home with the kids?’ Anna tried to remember the details. It was hard to keep up with Amanda sometimes. She was one of those rare people who wasn’t on social media. Not that Anna was particularly fond of it herself, but she did like that it made it easier to stay in touch with people.
‘No, I’m not working. I’m still at home with the kids.’ Amanda’s voice faltered and she looked away. ‘This was more something of a, er, personal nature.’ She took a sip of her coffee.
‘Oh, OK.’ Anna didn’t know how to respond to that. She frowned as she saw the worry lines form on Amanda’s brow. She suddenly realised that her friend looked incredibly tired. Thin, too – her pretty blue top was too big for her small frame. She looked as though she had lost a lot of weight recently.
‘Is everything OK, Amanda? You don’t seem yourself.’
‘Um.’ Amanda sighed heavily and gave a sheepish smile. ‘No, not really. Honestly, things have been a bit crap lately and I just really needed some quality time with a friend.’
‘Oh, hun, I’m so sorry to hear that.’ Anna reached out and squeezed Amanda’s arm, feeling a wave of concern for her. ‘What’s going on?’