by S. J. Morgan
‘All right, gentlemen?’ Minto strode into the room, all leathered up for a burn on his bike. He flexed his fingers and adjusted his gloves. ‘Good night, eh, lads?’
‘Yeah, tidy,’ Black said. ‘Bit of cleaning to do though.’ He zipped up his jacket and headed towards the door with Minto.
‘Sindy’s a trooper,’ Minto said. ‘She’ll soon have it sorted.’
With a car sitting outside, I figured I could go elsewhere to eat. I’d also bought the weekend paper so I could scour the property pages in privacy and peace. At least, I would have if I’d been able to find the frigging keys. I searched through every pocket in my wardrobe; turned out all my bags, checked every drawer. Nothing, nada. I mentally retraced my steps at the party. Surely, I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to put them down in the kitchen or the hall? I took a deep breath and ventured out of my room and into the stinking cesspit that was the rest of the house.
Sindy was in the kitchen, cleaning the sink. She was wearing a huge pair of floral rubber gloves and one of those classy nudie-aprons. While she was scrubbing away at a small stain by the plughole, the rest of the kitchen behind her remained an unholy crapfest.
‘You seen any keys?’ I said.
She turned around. ‘Hi, Alec. Um...no. What did they look like?’
‘Metal with long jagged edges. Usually fit into keyholes.’
Her whole face shone as she let out a laugh. ‘I know that, silly! But were they on a keyring or anything?’
I tried to remember details, but the home-brew had fried my brain. I knew Daniella only kept a single key for the car, but I was sure it was attached to something.
Sindy furrowed her brow. ‘Was there a horse or something on the keyring?’
‘No, I don’t...’ And then it flashed into my mind: a sports car keyring. I’d laughed at the irony.
‘Yeah, a black horse on a yellow background,’ I said. ‘Have you seen it?’
She looked delighted and took off her rubber gloves, all secretarial efficiency. ‘Come with me.’
I hesitated before following her into Minto’s room. I’d never been invited to the Inner Sanctum and I was wary about venturing in during his absence.
It wasn’t as I’d imagined. I’d assumed heavy metal posters, bike ads, porno calendars, general petrolhead paraphernalia. But the walls were relatively uncluttered, apart from one three-part poster high up on the wall facing the bed. It was of two dark-haired birds, each wearing a white mesh top. They were both sitting, facing the camera, skirts hitched up to their thighs, no underwear. The girl on the right was sucking on her fingers, smiling like she’d had the shag of her life. The other had a bead of blood on her bottom lip.
‘Oh, that’s Minto’s,’ Sindy said, following my gaze. ‘It’s a bit rude but he loves it.’
The rest of the room was unremarkable: an el-cheapo wardrobe, a pair of decent speakers on the wall and an expensive looking amp and tape deck on the chest of drawers. I wondered where he kept that knife collection he was always bragging about.
Next to the double bed was a toilet roll with a bin at the side, an ashtray full of butts and a candle stuffed in an empty beer bottle. It could have been any guy’s room. What was strange, perhaps, was that there was hardly any evidence of Sindy. She pretty much lived there, at least half the time, yet there was no femininity in the room. Apart from a flash of raspberry-pink on a huge black suitcase on the wardrobe. I figured that had to be hers.
‘Is this the one?’ Sindy said, holding up Daniella’s key.
I took it from her. ‘Thank Christ for that. Where did you find it?’
‘It was just here,’ she said, pointing to the table. ‘It was with Minto’s wallet and bike keys. I remembered seeing it when I was getting dressed.’
‘Really?’
‘He probably just found it at the party and was going to give it back when he saw you.’ She jumped onto the bed and sat cross-legged, making her skirt ride up her thighs.
‘I should go,’ I said. ‘I’ve got things to do.’
The smile fell from her face. ‘Oh. All right. What are you up to?’
‘Just...stuff.’
‘What stuff?’
‘I dunno,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to go out and get something to eat. The kitchen’s hardly attractive, is it?’
‘Sorry. I need to clean up the mess,’ she said. ‘At least Minto’s not back till tonight so I have plenty of time.’
I headed for the door. ‘I’d offer to help but...’
‘It’s okay,’ she said, putting those massive rubber gloves back on. ‘You shouldn’t have to: Minto said you never wanted to come to the party in the first place.’
I placed the banana shake in front of her and put down my own coffee. I hadn’t thought the idea through before suggesting it. If I had, I’d have probably dismissed the notion before I’d put my mouth into gear. Still, Sindy was delighted. It was a greasy dive of a place, but it was moments from the flat and everything was dirt-cheap.
‘So, how did Minto know I didn’t want to come to the party?’ I asked. I liked to think I didn’t have an ulterior motive for bringing her out with me, but it seemed too good an opportunity to waste.
‘He said he rang you and that you sounded...worried. He said you didn’t want to come to the party, but he was pretty sure you’d show up.’
‘I was surprised when he rang,’ I said, all matter of fact. ‘I can’t remember giving him my folks’ number.’
‘No, he had to ask Stobes.’
‘Stobes. Yeah, of course.’
‘How d’you think they make banana milkshakes?’ she said, licking the froth off her straw. ‘Bananas don’t have any juice.’
‘Guess they just mash ‘em up.’ I looked at the dayglo yellow of her glass. ‘Don’t think a fresh banana’s gone near that one though. Just chemicals.’
She nodded and held it up to the light as if she was expecting to see them.
‘Did Minto mention any rent money missing?’ I said. ‘That was why he rang. The money I’d left wasn’t in the envelope.’
‘Not sure,’ she said, shrugging. She sucked up the bubbles around the glass. ‘He doesn’t really tell me those things.’
‘Mm. What about Mr Patel – have you ever met him or does Minto go to his house to take the rent?’
‘Who’s Mr Patel?’
‘The landlord. He owns the house.’
Her attention wandered as a chocolate fudge sundae floated past our table.
‘He’s an Indian guy,’ I told her. ‘Short and skinny.’
Her eyes scoured the menu board and I knew I was losing her.
‘Sindy! Have you met him, or seen him at the house?’
Her whole body seemed to shrink as she registered my impatience. ‘I don’t know, Alec. Sorry. I don’t think so.’
I stopped the waitress as she was headed past our table. ‘Could we have one of those chocolate sundaes, please?’ I said, pointing to the dessert that had captivated Sindy.
Sindy whooped and gave me a toothy grin. ‘Thanks, Alec!’
‘How d’you know it’s for you?’ I said.
She looked into her glass with a shy smile. ‘Just hoped.’ She drained the rest of her milkshake in a noisy finale. ‘I don’t think I’ve met any Mr Patels,’ she said. ‘Anyway, you’ve got it wrong. He doesn’t own the house.’
‘He does.’
‘No. He definitely doesn’t.’
‘How d’you know?’
‘Because...my dad does.’
I felt my jaw slacken as I looked back at her. ‘What?’
‘I don’t know how it happened, or when he got it, but Dad said to me the other day when I was coming over: ‘Make sure that lot are all looking after it. It’s my money invested in that place now, so they’d fucking better.’ She looked up and grinned. ‘Sorry for swearing.’
As soon as dessert arrived, I knew it would be the last I’d get out of Sindy. But there was one more thing that needed to be squared away.
>
‘Hey, Sindy – don’t tell Minto about any of this conversation, okay? Not about us coming here, or about what we talked about or anything. D’you understand? It’s important.’
‘What about the key? He’ll know that’s gone.’
‘Just tell him I asked if you’d seen it, so you gave it to me.’
‘Well, that’s true, anyway,’ she said, a bead of chocolate sauce on her bottom lip.
I looked away.
‘Is it a car key?’ she said.
‘Yes, why?’
‘A brown car? That big one at the end of the road?’
‘Yes.’
‘He borrowed it,’ she said. ‘I saw him go out in it after the party.’
‘What? You sure?’
‘Yes, and he was gone ages.’
I looked back at her, tucking into her ice-cream – it was probably the best value ninety-five pence I’d ever spent.
Chapter 19
Sindy was back in the kitchen in her floral gloves. I’d read the paper, made a few phone calls but after her revelation about Minto using the car, the prospect of driving it again brought a fresh level of menace. I had no choice though: I said I’d be at the house at four.
Everything seemed normal as I sat in the driver’s seat, but why wouldn’t it? It wasn’t my car so I wouldn’t know if anything was out of place. I checked the glove box, the visors, under the seats – for what I wasn’t sure. All kinds of scenarios rattled round in my head: from a car bomb under the chassis to a used condom between the back seats. Did he want to kill me or just mess up my life? I searched the interior for stashed cash, for hidden drugs, for hard porn, anything Minto could try to pin on me. But there was nothing. Perhaps he’d just fiddled with the brakes and I wouldn’t know till I got to the bottom of Constitution Hill.
I turned the key in the ignition, wincing all the while in case I was about to be incinerated in a tangle of Marina metal. But no. The comforting purr of the engine was just as it should be.
I briefly picked up the folded Evening Post on the passenger seat, reminding myself of the address. 50 Ashton Crescent, Uplands. It was out of my price range, but I figured I might be able to knock ‘em down. The new uni year was about to get going so this place was clearly too rich for most students’ blood.
I put the car into first and flicked on the indicator. I was about to pull out when I checked my mirror and spotted Sindy, tearing down the steps of the house, flapping her arms at me. ‘Alec, wait!’ She was too far away for me to hear, but it wasn’t difficult to lip synch her battle cry. I quickly switched off the engine, in case she was trying to warn me Minto had booby-trapped the car.
I’d obviously watched too many action movies, because when Sindy opened the passenger door she was all smiles. ‘Can I come for a drive?’ she said. ‘I’ve never been in one of these cars.’
I looked at her and paused. ‘It’s a Marina, Sindy.’
‘I know. But Minto’s not back till tomorrow now so I’ve got ages to clean up. Please? Can I?’
I couldn’t help thinking of the pile of vomit that would infest the kitchen for a bit longer, but it hardly seemed like Sindy’s place to scrape it up.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘Just to the shops and back. Then I have to go somewhere by myself.’
She put on her belt while I pulled out of the street. ‘Is this where you’re going by yourself?’ she said. ‘Ashton Crescent?’
I snatched the paper from her and tossed it into the back. ‘No. Now which shop did you want to go to?’
She shrugged and looked into her lap. ‘Whichever one you want. There’s nothing I need.’
‘We’ll go to Gateways then. That’s the nearest.’
Her head remained bent and she said nothing.
‘Maybe I can get you some sweets,’ I said. ‘Or a Smash Hits. We might as well get something now we’re out.’
Still nothing.
‘Or do you want gum or some crisps?’
I looked over again and there was the faintest shake of the head. Then a sniff.
‘Aw c’mon, Sindy. I didn’t mean to snap at you – I was just in a bit of a hurry.’
She sniffed again and brought a hand up to her face.
‘What’s the matter?’ I said. ‘I’ve told you I didn’t mean it.’
‘You’re moving out!’ she said, still crying. ‘You’re leaving.’
‘What?’ The question came out so quietly, I don’t think she heard. ‘Why d’you think that?’
‘I’m not stupid, you know. You all think I’m stupid, but I’m not. I know what a flat-hunting page looks like. I know why people circle addresses and write down the phone numbers. I’m not an idiot.’
‘Hey, I know, I know. I never said you were. It’s just...my business rather than yours or anyone else’s. The place is probably taken so I doubt I’ll be moving out anyway.’
‘But you’re looking. You want to move out.’ She was shouting at me as if we were in the middle of a full-scale row.
I pulled over and watched the traffic go by, trying to decide what to say to her. I wanted to be honest, but I knew anything I said could and would be used as evidence against me. And Christ knew what would happen if Minto got so much as a whiff of it.
‘I’m just...not very happy at the flat, Sindy. That’s all.’ It was the first time I’d said it out loud or admitted it to anyone – myself included.
‘Why, though? It’s not so bad. I know the wallpaper’s old and the kitchen’s hardly big enough for...’
‘I don’t think Minto wants me there,’ I said. ‘And seeing as I don’t like it there much myself, why wouldn’t I go?’
She ground the pads of her palms into her eyes and suddenly pushed forward and whacked her head on the dashboard – once, twice, three times.
‘Sindy, stop it!’ I pretty much had to grab her by the hair to stop her doing it again. ‘What d’you do that for?’
‘I don’t want you to go,’ she said, sobbing. ‘Please don’t go, Alec. I’ll do anything you want, anything.’
I stop-started a whole host of responses but each time, it seemed like the wrong one. In the end, I just put an arm around her and let her cry against my shoulder.
It seemed ages later that I felt her weight shift as she lifted her head. I could still see the flash of red where she’d whacked her forehead.
‘You okay now?’ I said. Her sobs had calmed to a few hiccoughs. The normally pale skin of her cheeks was blotchy, red and strands of hair stuck to her nose and lips. I pulled one or two bits of hair away. ‘Jeez, you’re a right old snot fest,’ I said.
It made her laugh which worsened the mess, so I grabbed Daniella’s tissue pack from the shelf and took one out for her.
‘Sorry,’ she said. But her chin was still trembling.
‘You’ll be all right.’
The reassurance started her off again and I had to reach for a second tissue.
‘I hate the thought of you going,’ she said.
‘Why? You hardly ever see me.’
She swallowed loudly, struggling to get the words out. ‘But I know you’re there.’ More gulps and hiccoughs. ‘And I don’t know what I’ll do if you’re not.’
I nodded, holding my tongue against my teeth to stop myself probing more. It was better not to know, to not understand. Trouble was, I’d forced myself to believe one of only two scenarios: the first that Sindy was stupid and didn’t know that Minto was just using her; the second that she did know what was happening but didn’t really mind.
‘Thing is, Sindy,’ I said. ‘I mightn’t have a choice about moving. Like I said, Minto doesn’t want me there.’
‘He does! He wouldn’t have let you move in otherwise. You, or Stobes or Black.’
She made it sound like we were the chosen ones.
‘But if he’s putting up the rent, I can’t afford it anyway.’ I said.
Her face brightened as she clutched at the sliver of hope. ‘I’ll talk to my dad. He won’t put up the ren
t if I tell him not to.’
I looked at her and her face fell.
‘It’s not the rent being too expensive though, is it?’ she said. ‘Otherwise you wouldn’t be going to see a place like Ashton Crescent. That’s where the posh houses are.’
‘No, it’s not just the money,’ I admitted. ‘There’s no point me staying somewhere I’m not comfortable. Minto kicked my door in when I was away, didn’t he? It was broken into again before the party. Now he’s saying I haven’t paid the rent when I know I fucking well have. He took my…well, Daniella’s car without telling me. How much am I supposed to put up with?’
She nodded and sucked her top lip.
‘It’s not like anyone there is a real friend, in any case,’ I said.
The comment popped out before I could stuff it back in my stupid mouth. ‘I didn’t mean you,’ I said. ‘I meant the other guys.’
‘S’alright. I know I’m not one of your friends.’ She looked at me and attempted a smile. ‘I’d like to be a friend though.’
‘You already are, Sinds. Honest.’
The statement seemed to buoy her. ‘Can I just come with you for now?’ she said. ‘To the house. I’ll just stay in the car, but can I come there with you?’
‘Why?’
‘I dunno.’ She shrugged. ‘I guess I don’t like the flat much either.’
‘Was it really nice?’ Sindy asked, injecting the question with as much gloom as she could muster.
‘Ah, it was okay,’ I said, putting my wallet back in the glovie.
‘Probably got lots of students going for it, have they?’
‘Mm…not so much. Term starts soon, so most students are sorted by now.’
I was aware of her watching me, studying every part of my face for clues; for signs, perhaps, of betrayal.
‘It looks really nice,’ she said, peering past me. ‘Must be expensive.’
‘Yep. That’s probably why it’s still available. It costs more than the flat, that’s for sure.’ I put my seatbelt on and started the engine. ‘Did you change your mind about wanting something from the shop?’ I said as we drove away.
‘No.’
‘Sure? I’m buying. Could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I don’t get my wallet out very often, you know.’