‘Well, we can’t now. Dad’s made sure of that,’ Freya answers.
‘Rob has work. He has family. It’s only a matter of time before people come looking for him.’
‘Jasmine and I won’t be here.’
‘Where will you be?’
‘With you.’
‘Then they’ll find you.’
Freya shakes her head.
‘How do you know?’
‘Trust me. Now help me get rid of this mattress.’ She drags at the heavy corner, cursing its weight and bulk.
‘You can’t burn the mattress in the garden. Think of the smoke. Someone will call the fire brigade.’
‘What do you suggest?’ Freya snaps angrily. What use are you? What did I expect?
‘We wait for Dad and Bill to get back.’
‘Wait here?’ Freya shudders. Her eyes fix on the bloodstain.
Ivan reaches towards her. ‘Yes.’
Freya sniffs and takes a deep breath. ‘Okay. Do you want a cup of tea?’
Ivan stares at her. His thoughts seem to dart behind his eyes as if he is trying to piece together this stranger he calls sister. ‘No thanks.’
Freya walks from the bedroom and into the kitchen to switch the kettle on. She cannot sit still and wait. Why should Dad make all the decisions anyway? Because I called him to help me. No I called Ivan, but what help is he? Dad’s doing what needs to be done. He’s saving Jasmine and me. I can wait for him to get back. Maybe he does know what to do. How does he know? What part of being a taxi driver and a father prepares a person for this? And who is Bill? Do I know him? The kettle bubbles as the water warms. She holds her hand in the column of steam. It scolds her skin, but she does not pull away. This is insane, she tells herself, and moves reluctantly away, grabbing a cup and a teabag.
She takes her tea into the hallway, stands at the top of the stairs and watches her daughter sleep: a calm spot in the centre of a hurricane. She imagines Rob kissing her goodbye and walking past her and out of the door for work. ‘Have a good day,’ she whispers.
As if her words summoned him, the front door opens and her father steps inside.
‘Hi, Daddy.’
Mike bends to look in the pram then turns his face towards her. His face looks as white as smoke around his dark eyes, but he is smiling. ‘Hey, Freya. Good to see you.’
‘Where’s Bill?’
‘He’s not coming back with us. Look, Freya, I need to make a quick phone call before we finish here. Is that tea? I’m parched. Could you make me a cuppa?’
Chapter 20
Satori cannot bear to go straight home. Instead he heads to an old local drinking hole, The Full Moon. The woman behind the bar smiles warmly and he orders a single malt. He sits on a stool at the bar and turns around to study the other patrons.
It is still early and the men and women gathered around the wooden tables of the public house are all much older than Satori. He sees in their faces a well-worn resignation to the pointlessness of existence. He pities them, takes a large sip of his whisky and starts to pity himself as well.
I could have had it all. My life was so full of potential. There was nothing I could not do. How much can one man change in four short years?
The bar keeper approaches him and asks in her syrupy voice whether he would like another. He nods and thanks her. She is attractive in the heavily painted sort of way that women in the service industry seem to prefer. Her hair is long and ash blonde with waves that she tucks behind her ears, revealing large gold hoops. She has a perfect smile with the whitest teeth Satori has ever seen, the sort of smile that lights up a room. He asks her name.
‘Gloria,’ she answers.
‘Great name.’ He looks steadily into her soft blue eyes.
She blushes slightly and smiles again. ‘I haven’t seen you before.’
‘It used to be my local, but I moved away.’
‘A local boy,’ she chimes. ‘So where do you live now?’
‘On the north side of town.’ He extends his hand across the bar. ‘I’m Satori.’
She takes his hand and shakes it. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
She moves away to serve another customer then returns. ‘What do you do for a living, Satori?’
He grins and licks his lips. ‘A bit of this and a bit of that. I read tarot. I tell fortunes and I can bless or curse pretty much anything you can name.’
‘Are you a gypsy?’
He shakes his head, laughing softly.
‘Would you do it for me?’
‘Tell your fortune?’
‘Yes. I’ve never had my cards read.’
‘I could, but not here. When are you free?’
‘I get off at twelve,’ she says.
He considers her reply. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll be long gone by twelve tonight. I could come back another day to see you, if you like.’
Her smile is wider and brighter than ever. ‘I’d like that very much, Satori. I can even ply you with free booze while you wait for me to finish.’
‘Tempting though that is, I should keep a clear head when I’m working. Maybe we should share a bottle after we’re done?’
‘Perfect.’ Her long lashes cast shade over her eyes and she moistens her lips.
Satori swallows hard. His cock stirs inside his boxers. ‘Then I’ll see you soon. I had better be on my way. It was a pleasure meeting you, Gloria.’
‘And you, Satori. Hurry back.’
‘I will.’ His grin doesn’t falter as he leaves the pub. He doubts he will return to accept her offer, but her attention and flirtation make him feel good.
Chapter 21
Mark passes a mug of strong, sweet tea to the man, who grunts. ‘Thanks, kid.’
‘I need to go out,’ Mark tells him.
‘Sure. Wait ten minutes and I’ll come with.’ Kevin lights a cigarette and takes in drags of smoke between sips of tea.
Mark shakes his head. ‘I need to go out alone. There’s someone I’m looking for.’
‘Your mam?’ Kevin adjusts his position, straightening his back and tensing his torso. His body language is alert and interested, ready for action.
Mark blushes. The man’s gaze feels heavy with expectation. ‘How did you know?’
‘The state of you. What happened? Did she walk out on you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Women. Can’t fucking trust the cunts.’
Mark bristles. Adrenaline heats his muscles. ‘Watch your mouth. It’s not like that.’
The man laughs. ‘Sure, kid, relax. Whatever, but I need you here at two o’clock. Got someone who wants to meet you.’
‘Who?’
‘My mate, Garlow. So we can go out and come back, but I’m not about to let you go wandering off. What if you get lost and end up back in those sewers? I’d never forgive myself.’
‘I know where you live.’ Mark feels indignant. He is not a child.
‘Kid. This is a big city, a dangerous city. I’ll look after you. We can get some lunch. You like burgers, right?’
Mark shrugs. ‘Dunno.’
‘The bitch never even fed you burgers?’
‘My mum isn’t a bitch. Stop calling her that.’
‘Sorry, kid. Force of habit. My mum weren’t no good at all. Just wanted to sleep around and stay drunk enough not to remember my name.’
Mark sighs. He grabs Kevin’s empty mug and takes it to the sink.
Kevin pushes himself out of the chair and yawns. ‘Give me two minutes. I’ll get my kit on and we’ll head out.’
Mark nods.
‘Where you gonna look first?’ Kevin’s voice echoes through the apartment.
Mark wanders back into the living room and waits. He hears grunts and the rustling of denim and cotton coming from the bedroom. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know anything other than her name.’
‘Really? How long since you’ve seen her?’
‘Most of my life.’
Kevin strides into the room, fully dressed. ‘Oh
shit, kid. But she’s here, is she?’
‘I think so… I can feel her.’
‘How old is she?’
Mark shakes his head. ‘About your age, maybe.’
‘No fucking way, kid. I’m only twenty-six. I couldn’t have a kid your age.’
‘Yes you could.’
Kevin looks at Mark askance. ‘One for the ladies already, huh?’
Mark shrugs.
‘You really are dark horse, scrawny kid like you, a fighter and a lover. Colour me impressed, but it doesn’t help us figure out where your mam will be. Maybe we should hang tight and ask Garlow. He’s a man with connections, right. If anyone can tell you where to start looking, he can.’
‘Okay. I’ll ask him. But I want to go and walk about anyway. Just to see, you know?’
‘I have no idea, kid, but sure. What harm can it do?’
Mark wanders among the shoppers. Flattened cobblestones underfoot give the illusion of an ancient city, a city with history. The glass ceiling above reflects thousands of lights, which look like stars against the indigo of the sky beyond. Everyone is rushing. He walks calmly among them, recognising no one.
‘Anything?’ Kevin asks.
‘Not yet,’ Mark answers.
‘Wait here a minute,’ Kevin says. ‘I just wanna pop in this shop.’
Mark nods and wanders with the older man towards the glass front of a high-end supermarket.
‘Want anything?’ Kevin asks.
Mark shakes his head. He looks at his reflections in the window, in triplicate. In each his face is twisted and his eyes look hollow. He turns towards the centre of the arcade, watching men in suits and women in high heels hurry past. A movement in the corner of his eye attracts him. Something large and white moves slowly between the shoppers, it heads towards him.
Mark looks at the shop doorway then back at the figure. Its white coat billows like a spectre. Its steps are slow but purposeful. Mark looks in the opposite direction and sees another figure in white. Motionless, it watches him.
Mark’s heart hammers as he looks left and right between the two men in their long, white coats. He looks back at the supermarket and sees Kevin in a queue. He taps on the glass with his knuckles, but Kevin does not look up. One figure is only a few metres away now. The other stands some distance from them and watches. Mark balls his fist. He considers running into the store, but what can Kevin do? What would Kevin do? Mark is no one to Kevin. Why would he interfere?
‘Hello.’ The man in white smiles at Mark.
‘Hello,’ Mark answers.
‘Come with me.’ The man’s smile seems fixed. His mouth barely moves as he speaks.
‘What do you want?’ Mark’s voice is loud. A woman turns to look at them. An auburn curl falls across her eyes. She frowns, tucks her hair behind her ear, shrugs and moves on without another glance.
‘Just to talk,’ the man says. ‘Somewhere quiet.’
‘I can’t. I’m waiting for someone,’ Mark answers.
‘We know who you’re looking for,’ the man says. ‘We can take you there.’
Mark’s eyes widen. ‘You do?’
The man nods. The top of his head has a bald patch the size of Mark’s fist. The skin glows pink within the halo of black and grey.
‘What’s her name?’ Mark asks.
‘Not here,’ the man answers.
Mark sees a movement to his left and realises the other man is walking towards them. He reaches behind and knocks on the shop window again.
The bald man in white looks past Mark through the window. ‘He won’t help you.’
Mark’s arm shakes. He wants to grind his fist into the smile before him.
‘What’s going on?’ Kevin strides towards the trio.
‘Kevin!’ Mark says.
As Kevin steps closer, Mark feels stronger and protected. ‘Are these men bothering you, kid?’
‘Do you know this boy?’ the bald man asks.
‘Sure,’ Kevin answers.
‘Do you know what he’s capable of?’
Kevin sighs. ‘We’re not interested, Grandpa. Get lost.’
The man nods towards his companion who is less than two metres away. His hand slips inside his coat.
‘Run!’ Kevin shouts.
Kevin’s punch catches the bald man off balance and he stumbles. Kevin grabs Mark’s arm and they sprint away from the two men in white.
‘Who are they?’ Kevin asks as they keep running, out of the mall, across the road and up some steps onto a grass bank overlooking the river.
They run until they reach the walls of the ruined castle. There they crouch with their backs against a cold stone wall. Their chests inflate and deflate as they catch their breaths. ‘Who were they?’ Kevin’s chin drops towards his shoulder as he studies Mark.
Mark blinks. ‘I don’t know.’
‘What did they want?’
‘They wanted me to go with them.’
‘Fucking perverts.’ Kevin spits. ‘There’s too much of that shit around here, kid. This city ain’t what it used to be.’
‘Do you think they’ll come back?’
‘Nah, they’re long gone. I’d like to know what that bastard was going to pull from his pocket though, wouldn’t you? Couldn’t get into a fight there, anyways. Too much fucking security. What do you reckon he was gonna do?’
Mark shakes his head. ‘I don’t know. They said they know who I’m looking for. Maybe I should go back.’
‘Huh?’
‘Maybe they know my mum.’
‘Didn’t seem that way to me, kid, but if you want to go back I’m right beside you. Those nonces will be long gone, though. Trust me…and anyway, look it’s late. We can’t be late for Garlow. It just doesn’t happen. We can come back tomorrow if you want.’
Marks nods. ‘Sure. Oh and Kevin.’
‘What, kid?’
‘Thanks.’
‘No problem. Gotta keep my prize winner in good nick, huh?’ Kevin punches Mark’s shoulder playfully.
‘Huh?’
‘Don’t worry. Garlow will fill you in. Just know I’m looking out for you.’
Chapter 22
‘I’m sorry, Daddy,’ Freya says.
‘What the fuck happened?’ Mike asks. ‘I haven’t seen a mess like this for…’
‘I don’t know. I just woke up and…’ A tear rolls down Freya’s cheek. ‘I found him. He was already dead.’
Mike looks at Ivan then back at Freya. ‘Okay. We can talk about it later if we need to. First, we’ll clear the apartment of everything. It’ll look like you’ve skipped town, but no more than that. Help me with the mattress, Ivan.’
Ivan and Mike grab each end of the mattress and pull it out of the room. Freya sighs and shakes her head. She hears the door shut behind them then soft whispers that she cannot understand.
Do they think I did this?
Well did we?
No, of course not.
Are we sure?
Yes. Maybe we don’t know who did it, but we know it wasn’t us.
Freya checks on Jasmine in her pram. She is fast asleep.
How could we do this, Freya?
We didn’t, Deya. You’d remember if we did. Now think. Dad wants us to get rid of everything.
Passports, credit cards, clothes.
Yes that’s right. Grab a suitcase and we’ll start packing.
Freya opens every drawer. She leaves cutlery and kitchenware behind, but packs everything else. Toiletries, books, clothing, money and identification all get pushed into the four suitcases she can find. Her tears dampen fabrics as she presses layers of cotton onto velvet and satin. She does not fold anything. It is thrown in without a care for creasing or other damage. Her skin itches. She wants out. She wants to leave this place and never return.
It was a mistake coming here.
We’re leaving now.
But, Rob.
You can’t help him.
I never helped him. Now he’s dead and my b
aby has no father.
But she has a mother.
Two mothers.
That should serve her well. As long as no one suspects us.
Daddy does.
Daddy loves us.
He always has. He forgives us everything because he doesn’t want to lose us too.
I know.
Freya, do you think it’s odd that he knew what to do?
Who, Daddy?
Yes. It’s like he’s done it all before.
Do you think he has?
Surely, not.
No one found those boys, did they?
Do you think?
Do I think he killed the kids who murdered our sister? Yes. I think it’s possible.
Should we ask him?
Absolutely not.
By the time Ivan and Mike return, the belongings are packed. Ivan stares silently at the floor.
‘Is this all of it?’ Mike asks.
Freya nods.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, Daddy.’
‘Good girl. Now give your old man a hug.’ A nerve beneath his eye pulses.
Freya kisses his cheek. ‘What did you do with it all?’ she asks.
‘Bill’s taking care of it.’
‘Daddy, you need to know. I…’
‘Sweetheart, all I need to know is that you and that beautiful granddaughter of mine are safe. You’re coming home with us.’
‘Won’t they look for me there?’
‘Who?’
‘The police.’
‘Why would the police look for you, Baby?’
Freya looks around her. Her jaw drops. She shrugs.
‘Trust me,’ Mike answers.
‘I do, Daddy.’
Chapter 23
Satori stops at the front door. He hears sobbing. Slowly, he pushes his key into the lock. His skin prickles and he shivers. What now?
‘Are you okay, Star?’ he asks as he steps through the door.
She doesn’t reply, but the sounds of crying become louder.
He closes and locks the door behind him then strides across the living room. The hallway is dark. The door to their bedroom stands ajar. He pushes it open a crack further and looks inside. She is there.
An empty bottle of tequila lies on its side on the bedside table. Her dark hair is wild and tangled, her head bowed and her nose is red from tears. She rocks herself back and forth. In her hand she holds a vibrator and there are traces of blood on its shaft.
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