‘And do you want to?’
‘I thought I did.’
‘And now?’
‘You’re here. Which changes everything.’
A long pause. ‘So exactly who are you, Vincent?’ she asked.
He looked down at her lips. ‘Good question.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘One thing I’m certain of. Right now, I want you more than I want to continue a dead man’s work. Does that make me insane?’
‘I’m not available.’
Her shoes clattered to the lift floor and his hand slid inside her coat and firmly clasped her waist on one side. ‘Make yourself available.’
‘No.’
She tipped her head back until it met with cold metal, then she felt the warmth and moisture of his lips moving against her neck.
She closed her eyes against a flood of desire. ‘No. Stop.’
He stopped kissing her. ‘Isn’t this the best game you’ve ever played? And you’re forcing me to take risks. Maybe it means I’m losing. Losing has never felt this good.’ He pressed her against the wall and whispered an inch from her lips. ‘I can stop anytime you really want me to. But I suspect you don’t.’
‘No, I do.’
‘You want me to carry on. You just don’t want to feel responsible.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not attracted to me.’
She tried to muster words. None came.
He continued, ‘You’ve always conformed, been well behaved at home. You’ve done what was expected. Are we so different, Naomi? Really? You’re as much a product of your parents as I am. And you’re tainted by guilt and conflict. Let go of everyone else and do what you want to do.’
She vigorously shook her head. ‘Can’t do that.’
‘Why not? Our little game – it can end tonight. Give me a night of your life and I’ll give you Dan.’
‘He won’t want me if –’
‘You might not want him.’ His tone was urgent and insistent now. ‘Have you considered that?’
‘Of course I want him.’
‘Right now, you want me. And I’m here and Dan isn’t.’
Because you stole him from me. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was hopeless. So she closed her eyes to shut him out, her limbs feeble and powerless. She half expected his lips to crash down on hers. And she was ready, in no frame of mind to refuse.
But the lift doors opened again and two men stepped inside. Vincent pulled away, took hold of her hand and towed her out of there and down the corridor. She had to run to keep up. Before she knew quite what was happening, his key card was in the slot and he was pressing down the door handle with his spare hand. She tugged her hand free of his and stepped back.
‘No.’
He walked right up to her, eyed her fiercely. ‘You’re screwing with my mind now.’
‘Likewise. This is totally messed up.’
‘You want me, I want you,’ he hissed. ‘Where’s the complication?’
‘This is wrong on every level. Deal was, one game of chess. After the game, I go home with Dan’s freedom assured, or not.’
His tone rose. ‘I know you want me. Admit it.’
‘OK,’ she spilled. Her mind was muddled, but her feelings were clear. ‘I admit it. I could spend a night with you and enjoy it. But there’s tomorrow and the day after. And I have to live with myself and I’m engaged to Dan and you’re the guy who landed him in prison.’
‘Well I reckon that wanting me means you’ve betrayed Dan already. Isn’t that right?’
‘Yes. And he deserves better.’
She dropped her head and saw her bare feet swimming on the carpet. Her shoes were still in the lift.
‘In my world, you floor someone, ask questions later. You get even swiftly and effectively and never dole out second chances,’ he said. ‘The codes in your world are an enigma to me.’
‘Obviously.’
There was a long wait where nothing happened. He stood watching her, hands on hips exhaling frustrated breaths. She looked at the floor. In the end, he walked over to her and stood close and lowered his tone.
‘I thought I’d enjoy knowing that you wanted me.’ He paused. ‘But it feels like I’m slowly burning from inside. And here you are right in front of me, telling me you want the same thing and I’m offering you the evidence to free Dan in exchange for something we both want.’
‘I can’t do it.’ Her tone was unconvincing. She looked at the floor.
He dragged her chin up with his finger. Her body was limp. ‘Why not?’
‘Because . . .’ She tipped her head back to distance her lips from his and his mouth fell on her neck again and she found herself bound in his arms suddenly. She folded her arms round his neck and uttered the first words that trickled into her head.
‘You’re dangerous.’
‘Yes I am. That’s why you want me.’
‘You’ve killed people.’ She panted a couple of times. ‘That’s what you said.’
He loosened his grip and pulled his head back to focus on her. ‘I said it was a complex answer.’
‘Tell me the truth, Vincent. Have you ever killed anyone?’
She could feel his breath on her and in all honesty she wanted to feel his mouth on her too, but simultaneously, she didn’t.
He said, deliberately. ‘You know I have.’ He was watching her eyes now. His were flicking slightly, side to side, reading her reaction. ‘If you don’t come to my room tonight, then we fly home, finish the game. You win, and I’ll keep my end of the deal, right?’ He lowered his voice to almost nothing. ‘But there’s something you should know.’
‘What?’
‘I’ve no intentions of going to prison.’ She searched his eyes, trying to fathom what he was saying. ‘My father died in prison and came out in a coffin. Every hour he spent in the place was torture for him. So if Dan walks and the finger turns on me, I’ll die before I’ll allow myself to be locked up, you understand? You free Dan, you kill me. That’s the game we’re playing now.’
There was a look in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. As if the veneer had been stripped and she was seeing him for the first time. The real Solomon.
Tears blurred her vision. ‘No.’
‘Yes.’ He took hold of her face in his hands. ‘Just telling you how it is. I owe you that much. The stakes couldn’t be higher.’ He pressed his lips to her forehead and held them there. She closed her eyes. ‘I don’t expect to sleep much tonight. If you want company, any hour, just knock.’
Those were his last words before he disappeared inside his room and hastily closed the door, leaving her breathless and gulping back tears.
***
For Vincent, a couple of exasperating hours crawled by. No knock. He paced his room consuming what alcohol there was, wondering if she was conscious next door. With memories of her so vivid in his head, the idea of sleep was preposterous. He picked up his phone, toying with the idea of texting her, to test if she’d respond. It was then that he noticed his email notifications. One press of his thumb and he could see the beginnings of a message with the tasty subject, fruit.
42
Charlie hadn’t spent the weekend looking for Joel as Vincent had demanded, she’d spent it plotting moves with Reggie Janes. They had a loose plan which involved searching for evidence which they could use against Vincent as insurance if they needed to. Play him at his own games. Come Monday and Charlie would be telling Vincent, with relish, that she was going solo; that she no longer needed or wanted him.
Charlie parked her car and she and Reggie used her key to enter the club the back way, out of view of the Muscles. She led Reggie through the rear corridors, avoiding cameras, ensuring they weren’t seen. With Vincent away for the weekend, it had to be now. She let herself into the control room (as Vincent aptly called it), leaving Reggie to guard the door, and disabled camera five. This camera watched the corridor that led to Vincent’s office.
Since Regg
ie’s visit to the club, Vincent’s paranoia levels had risen and he’d tightened security. Now Charlie was the only one who had access to his office. They ran up the corridor that led to Vincent’s office, tapped the security code into the keypad and slipped inside. This room was camera-free and to disrespect Vincent to the max, Charlie wrestled Reggie to the ground, which he complied with happily, and hung over him and pinned his arms above his head right beneath Vincent’s office chair.
‘How did Brenda the Beard resist doing this in the prison corridors?’
‘I’d have killed her if she’d come near me with those bristles.’
Charlie smiled and hung over his face and lunged for Reggie’s neck and then his mouth.
‘Stay at mine tonight?’ he asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘Let’s hurry up and get out of here.’
The official club accounts were all logged on the computer. Figures were sent to the new accountant quarterly. The unofficial figures were written in longhand in books in code, much of which Charlie had recorded herself. These were the backhanders, the no-trace cash deals that Vincent insisted on recording, even though no names were ever mentioned and about which all details were unclear. Included were foreign workers who were given cash in hand and paid minimum wage, no contracts. These were the dancers and bartenders who survived off tips.
Charlie stood up and dragged Reggie to his feet.
‘So what’s Vincent hiding in here?’ he asked her.
‘You name it. Weapons. Drugs. Piles of cash.’
‘In that safe over there?’
‘No, that’s just got loose cash, plus a few log books that I write in. The main things are in another safe buried under the floorboards beneath the desk. Only Vincent knows how to access that safe.’
‘Drugs, hey? He’s a chip off the old block. Your pa used to deal in prison.’
‘Yeah well my dad passed all of his contacts on to Vincent. Rumour is you’re a user yourself.’
‘Not anymore. Been clean a while.’
‘Bravo.’
‘You?’
Charlie shook her head. ‘My dad would have bollocked us for going near the white stuff. It was too valuable. He didn’t want us stealing it or becoming hooked, which would have depleted his stocks and made us a burden to him. He preferred us to work hard to bring the money in. So he had me trained as a fighter and took Vincent on all his jobs, so he could learn the ropes. I was so jealous of that.’
‘And Joel?’
‘We didn’t see a lot of him. He was the soft-arse with the mother. I was furious about that too.’
‘Colourful childhood!’
‘Hm. It was all a bit crap really.’
‘So do you want to show me anything in here or can we get back to my place?’
‘Men!’ Charlie said. ‘Do they ever think with their brains?’
‘Did I mention that there was an exceedingly ugly woman in prison called Brenda?’
She laughed. ‘This won’t take long.’ She marched over to the safe and Janes followed. She pressed out the code and the door swung open.
‘You call that loose cash?’ he said. ‘There must be a few grand in there.’
‘Yeah there is. Every Friday he pays the wages in cash from this safe. The foreign workers. Dancers. Cleaners.’
There was a pile of hardback notebooks. Janes reached out, took the top one and opened it up and flicked through the pages.
‘Are these his betting records? BT. 10/1 Man United 60, 105, 72, 95, D. What is this? BT Sports? What are the numbers? What’s D – drawn?’
She was smiling when he looked up. ‘That’s what he wants you to think if you’re the tax man.’ She held out a forefinger and moved her finger across the page. ‘BT, code for bartender. 10/1 is the start-date of work, tenth of January, Man United is a person. I think it was a Polish guy called Alexios. The numbers are how much he was paid on the weeks he worked here. D means dismissed. See this – W doesn’t mean won, it mean working, and L doesn’t mean lost, it means left. So all these have either left, been dismissed or are still working. None of them have any proof of having worked here. All the football teams are individual people. Course, he has his regular core staff officially on the books. Those wages are properly recorded except when we earn bonuses.’
‘So shall we take a few of these and really rile him?’
‘No,’ Charlie said.
‘Coward.’
She grinned. ‘You’re cruising for a bruising.’
‘Sounds amazing,’ he said, wetting his lips. ‘Look, as fascinating as this is, I’m a bloke and I spent years inside. Right now, all I can think of is getting you –’
‘You’re only human. I get it.’ She grinned. ‘Fine. Let’s go then.’
***
Ready to offload a heap of irritations, Annabel had tried repeatedly to get Naomi on the phone and couldn’t. Where was she? She wouldn’t call Joel. No way. She swung between being furious with him and just aching for him so much that every part of her felt tender. It was difficult to separate those feelings from the general smattering of back pain, the heartburn, the vicious stabs in her legs whenever she stood up after sitting for too long, the leaden weight inside her that pressed down horribly and interrupted her sleep. On all counts, she felt too heavy.
She’d lost touch with friends since Japan. They’d moved on, gained careers, new lives, fled Manchester. It was hard to recognise her life from the one she’d had two years ago. She often wondered how she’d ended up this way: pregnant, vulnerable and alone, trapped with her parents when she was desperate to leave, her plans to travel and explore the globe having long-since burnt. All talk of her parents moving house had been shelved now that a baby was coming and she was still with them.
Joel rang every day and rehearsed the same lines, how much he wanted to be with her, how much he loved and cared about her and the baby. Words, words, words. What did they mean? Her reality amounted to a lot of fear and insecurity which coloured her dreams and coated her in a film of sweat. Her first thoughts on waking were this: How can I give birth alone? Raise a child by myself?
Head crowded, Annabel descended the stairs. Henry immediately appeared in the hall at the sound of her footsteps.
‘You holding up, petal?’
‘I’m going for a walk.’
‘Sounds good. I’ll come with you.’
‘No,’ she snapped. The offer only highlighted her aloneness. ‘I’m pregnant, Dad.’ She was tired of him fussing over her constantly when it was Joel she wanted. ‘I’m not ill and I’m not dying. I’m just pregnant, right? Just like every other woman who’s ever had a kid. And I need to get out of here.’
The panic that crossed Henry’s face incensed her. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Anywhere,’ she yelled. ‘What is the problem?’
‘You’re eight months pregnant.’
‘So?’
‘So you should have someone with you when you’re out, especially if you’re walking.’
‘And it should be Joel. But seeing as he’s swanned off and left me, I don’t want anyone else, thanks.’
It felt liberating to shout and scatter hurtful words. She roughly grabbed the door handle of the cupboard in the hall and ripped a coat from its hanger then smashed the door shut. Henry stood helpless. She’d hurt and confused him and couldn’t muster any guilt.
He said, ‘Joel hasn’t left you, flower. It was Hobson’s choice, you know that.’
If it was meant to be a comforting comment, it backfired. ‘Why do you keep defending him? It’s unfathomable. You could never stand the sight of him when he was here.’
‘Annabel, please calm down.’
‘I don’t want to.’
‘It isn’t good for you or the little chap. I’m only trying to help.’
‘You’re smothering me, Dad. Every day. Were you like this with Mum when she was pregnant?’
‘No, he wasn’t.’ Camilla’s voice floated down the hall from the kitc
hen doorway. ‘But this is different, Annabel. You’re unmarried and you’re not in a good way at the moment.’
‘It isn’t the 1950s, Mother.’ Annabel yelled at Camilla now.
‘What I mean is, you’re upset. Understandably.’ Her tone was sharp, defensive. ‘Joel should be putting you before his mother. The situation is absurd.’
‘Agreed. So I even offered to go and help him with her, but he wouldn’t let me.’
Camilla walked towards her. ‘Well obviously, you’re in no position to be looking after a sick woman in Newcastle. You need to be near the hospital here. Who knows when labour will start? You girls arrived a week early.’
‘This is about me and my life but it always ends up being about you and yours.’
‘There’s no need for that.’
‘OK, whatever. We have phones these days, Mother. I’ll live.’ Annabel fastened her coat. The zip strained against her belly. ‘Got to get out of here and breathe. I’ll die if I spend another minute in the house.’
Henry looked at Camilla, who shook her head. The look said, leave it, Henry.
As Annabel headed for the front door, Henry said, ‘Have you heard from Naomi this weekend?’
The mention of her twin – just another person who’d vanished – quickened her footsteps. ‘Nope,’ Annabel said as she flew through the door, banging it shut behind her.
***
Henry disappeared inside his study, hands shaking. He reached for his phone and texted Joel. She’s gone out for a walk and wouldn’t let me come. Camilla insisted I let her go. I daren’t follow without fireworks at home.
Joel replied immediately. I’m not far away. But I don’t have my car. Left it in Newcastle so Charlie didn’t see it on the streets. I’ll get a taxi and look for her.
Have you heard from your sister?
Joel said, Not a word, which is making me nervous. There’s something wrong. Look, gotta go.
It was only a matter of time before the whole thing blasted wide open. The pit of Henry’s stomach was crawling.
43
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