by S. J. Morgan
She didn’t answer straight away but was staring out of her side window. ‘You got your wallet out at Ashton Crescent,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘You got it out at the house. It was in your pocket when you went up, but you had it in your hand by the time you came out.’
We looked at one another.
‘Like you’d needed to pay a deposit or something,’ she said. She turned to her own window again and I could just pick out the irregular rise and fall of her stomach as she tried to stifle her tears.
Never before had I felt like such a shit.
Chapter 20
Daniella was about to head back to Bristol to start the final year of her course, so I was duty-bound to deliver the car back to her in Cardiff. It wasn’t until I’d taken it for numerous outings that I accepted it wasn’t booby-trapped. Minto probably had a laugh, watching me sweat every time I turned on the ignition. Maybe it was the only reason he ever borrowed it.
At least it wouldn’t be for much longer, I reminded myself. Soon, very soon, I’d be a Minto-free zone.
Daniella gave me a wave as soon as she spotted me. When I saw how cold she looked, I wished I’d suggested meeting in a café rather than in Sophia Gardens. She didn’t have a coat with her either – just a black polo neck sweater, jeans and pixie boots: clearly no match for the icy wind that had whipped up.
She gave me such a delicious hello that it made me realise how much I was going to miss seeing her when she went back to uni. Although we were only an hour or two away from each other, our meetings wouldn’t have the spontaneity we’d enjoyed over the summer.
Despite the cold, Daniella insisted we go for a walk rather than agree to my suggestion and head for the nearest pub. We followed the river up to the weir, keeping close to one another to get warm.
It struck me how much happier I felt in Cardiff than I did in Swansea. There was no checking over my shoulder, no wincing at the sound of every motorbike; no minding what I said to who. But it also made me worry that the new place in Ashton Crescent wasn’t far enough away from Minto. It was within spitting distance. Perhaps there wasn’t anywhere in Swansea that was far enough away.
‘Was everything okay at the party?’ Daniella asked, slipping her hand into my jeans pocket as we walked.
‘Not really. The door to my room was open and the padlock was busted.’
‘Shit!’
‘It was all as it was meant to be but...’
‘Yeah, I know – someone had been in there.’
I carried on thinking aloud. ‘And with Minto, it’s not just what he might have taken as what he could’ve left.’
Daniella looked at me. ‘How d’you mean?’
‘I dunno. I’m just…if he suspects me for the drugs bust, which I think he does, he could try and get even, somehow.’
‘He doesn’t know anything about that,’ Daniella said. ‘How could he?’
I shrugged. ‘Just a feeling. Christ knows what I was thinking, grassing him up like that. If I’d realised what a nutjob he was, I’d’ve kept my trap shut. Freakin’ Apaches.’
Daniella was quiet for a moment. ‘Y’know, my mum would do her crunch if she knew I was dating someone flatting with a bunch of bikies.’
‘Aww. Why? Would she worry about me?’
Daniella almost choked. ‘Ha! No! Mum’s only concern would be her own pristine reputation. Didn’t she tell you? She’s running in the local elections. It wouldn’t do for her to have anyone in the family associating with gangs and criminals.’
‘Oh, right.’ I thought back to Mike’s warning about scandals. No wonder he didn’t see me as ideal boyfriend material.
‘Still, I think you did the right thing tipping off the police,’ she said. ‘It was worth a shot. If it had worked, Minto would be out of your hair by now, wouldn’t he?’
I gave her a grim smile. ‘Whereas he’s become a freaking nit infestation instead.’
Daniella pulled me into her. ‘Ach, he’s all bluster,’ she said.
‘But that’s just it: he isn’t!’ I said. ‘He hangs out with the biggest crooks in Swansea. These are not people you want to mess with. Trust me, it’s serious. They mean business.’
When Daniella didn’t answer, I glanced across at her. All that sparkle had gone from her eyes and now she just looked pinched.
‘Look, it’s fine,’ I said. ‘You don’t need to worry.’
‘Sure!’
‘No, I mean I have some good news.’
I hadn’t intended to tell her yet: I’d wanted to save my announcement for a more significant moment, like when we were in bed together, but seeing as I’d put the fear of God into her, it seemed only fair to tell her there was light at the end of this murky tunnel.
‘It just so happens,’ I said, ‘that I’ve found a new place.’
Her eyes widened and her lips formed a silent ‘what?’
‘I move in three weeks.’
She stopped and flung her arms around me like I’d just won Sale of the Century. ‘Oh my God, Alec! That’s fantastic!’
‘It’s just a room in a share house,’ I said. ‘But it’s decent. Clean.’
‘I don’t care! It’s away from Minto!’ She pulled me into another tight hug. ‘Thank God!’ she said. ‘You’ll finally be free of the lot of them!’
Daniella kept the engine ticking over as she pulled up outside Mum and Dad’s house. I undid my seatbelt and reached into the back seat for my bag.
‘Have you told your mum you’re moving yet?’ she asked. ‘She’ll be so relieved: I think she hated you living there more than I did.’
‘No, I wanted you to be the first on that particular scoop.’
She kissed me on the cheek. ‘I’m touched,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
I was hoping to enjoy a bit more of her gratitude, but she moved the moment along. ‘Now, what’s the name of this Indian place you mentioned for tomorrow?’ she said. ‘I’ll book a table. Is eight okay?’
‘Yep. It’s called The Shish Mahal and it’s near the roundabout, next to that new wine bar.’
‘I’ll never remember the name,’ she said, searching the glove box for a pen. ‘And draw me a map as well: I have no idea which roundabout you’re on about.’
I could have told her there was no pen in the glove box: I’d scoured every inch of that car for Minto’s booby-traps so I knew every nook and cranny. But then Daniella slid her hand below the glove box, to a narrow shelf where she took out a pen and a folded piece of paper. It was a secret space; one I hadn’t seen, and I wondered if there were other hidden compartments I didn’t know about.
‘So, what was the address?’ she said.
I reached past her and shoved my hand in the shelf, giving it a quick once-over.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Nothing. Just seeing if there was another pen,’ I told her. ‘I was gonna draw you a map.’
Drugs. That’s what I’d been expecting my fingers to find, I realised. A little plastic bag full of pills or powder or weed. Just enough to get someone busted.
The fact I hadn’t found anything brought me no comfort: I figured Minto had just been one step ahead of me in finding hiding spots.
Daniella was watching me as she held out the pen and paper. ‘Come on, then. Draw me a map,’ she said.
I took them from her and drew a few lines and arrows on the folded sheet. I sensed she was still watching me.
‘What were you expecting to find?’ she said. ‘You seem awfully twitchy.’
‘Nothing. Why?’
‘It was like you were checking for something. Like you might have left something in here you didn’t want me to find.’
‘Like what for Christ’s sake?’
‘I don’t know. You sure you haven’t had some other woman in here?’
She said it in a jokey way, but I sensed there was a genuine query wrapped in there.
I looked up from my drawing. ‘I think I’d remember if I had.’
She held my gaze as I looked back at her.
‘No, Daniella. I wasn’t searching for abandoned knickers. I make sure all my conquests leave fully dressed. All right?’
‘Glad to hear it,’ she said.
And I handed her the sheet, cocky and smug, pretending all was well.
Chapter 21
Daniella had picked a table by the window, so I could see her, looking groomed and gorgeous, as I approached The Shish Mahal. I knocked on the big glass window and pulled a face at her. She glanced up briefly and went back to whatever she was reading.
The heaters were on full blast when I walked in. Even on a Sunday, the place was busy. The waft of Indian spices had my digestive juices limbering up as I walked towards Daniella. I couldn’t wait to sit and eat.
‘Hey,’ I said, kissing the top of her head and taking the seat opposite her. ‘You’re here before me! My map was obviously extremely accurate and easy to read then.’
She didn’t look up. ‘Yeah, it was fine.’
I sat upright, like a toddler waiting for attention, but the seconds ticked by and she still refused to look at me.
I exhaled and leaned across the table. ‘Okay, let’s have it,’ I said with a sigh. ‘My mind-reading skills are shot. What have I done?’
She sat back in her chair and folded her arms. ‘I don’t know. You tell me.’
‘Fuck, what is it now?’ I muttered, just loud enough that she’d hear.
Daniella treated me to one of her withering looks.
‘Can we not do this?’ I said, gesturing between us. ‘If you’ve got something to say, just say it. I can’t stand these pointless mental games.’
She picked up the piece of paper she’d been studying and dropped it in front of me.
I recognised the squiggles and arrows of my directions and my attempts at drawing junctions.
‘What’s up with it?’ I said. ‘Did I miss a set of lights or something?’
‘Turn it over.’
‘Why?’
‘Just turn it over, Alec.’
I did as I was ordered and looked down at the sheet.
It looked like a bad quality photocopy – a snippet from some old newspaper article. There were a couple of dozen words or so on the copied shred of paper, but my eyes sprang to three of them: Alexander David Johnston.
I glanced up at Daniella, confused. ‘What the hell is this?’
‘I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me.’
I skim-read the lines, immediately recognising what a tantalising little trail this would have been for Daniella. The article began mid-sentence where the clipping had been torn, catching the juiciest snippet.
‘...a student at Westchurch High School in Cardiff. Witnesses reported seeing her leave the Agastino Cafe at Central Station with fellow pupil, Alexander David Johnston, but police have yet to establish...’
‘How did you even get this?’ I said.
‘It was in my car, remember? It was the scrap piece of paper you used to draw the map on.’ She snatched it from me and shook it in my direction. ‘Is this what you were looking for when you reached into the glove box? Is this what you didn’t want me to find?’
‘No! Of course not. I didn’t know it was there, did I?’
‘You seemed to be checking for something.’
‘I wasn’t! Nothing like that anyway...I still don’t know how this could have been in there.’
‘Well you’re the only one who’s borrowed my car,’ she said. ‘And seeing as it’s an article about you...I’d imagine you put it there, even if it was by accident.’ Her throat moved as she swallowed. ‘I’m guessing you didn’t mean me to see it. That’s why you were suddenly so edgy and looking for pens in weird places!’
‘Daniella, look. I haven’t got a clue what it’s about.’
‘You went to that school though – it’s your name. Your full name. It has to be about you.’
‘Look at me,’ I said, reaching across and grabbing her hands. I held her gaze and chose my words carefully. ‘I do not know where this article is from or who put it there. Maybe it’s a joke. Someone’s typed it out and printed it to look like it’s been torn from a newspaper. But it’s nothing to do with me. At this moment I know as much about it as you do.’
Her eyes continued to bore into mine, clearly looking for signs of deceit and double-dealing. ‘So, it’s a complete mystery then, is it?’
‘A complete mystery.’
The waiter arrived. ‘Good evening sir, madam. Can I tell you what we have on our specials board ton –’
‘No, can you just bring us some poppadums?’
The waiter beat a hasty retreat, but he was very closely followed by Daniella who shot from her seat, swiped up her bag and headed to the ladies.
The longer I sat looking at the sheet, the more shakily my heart rattled. It could only have been Minto. All that time I’d been looking for weed or for planted weapons; for dodgy brakes and faulty steering. But this was how he’d decided to play it. Sneaky. Personal.
It felt like someone had lit a furnace in my stomach. My hands were wet with perspiration as I screwed up his fake newscoop and dropped it in the ashtray.
I drained my water glass and poured another, trying to cool myself down.
Despite all the verbal dodging and weaving, there was a massive part of me that really wanted to tell Daniella. Explain it all to her and finally, finally get it out in the open. But no sooner did I imagine conjuring up the words than the rolling sickness in my stomach started. I couldn’t make myself talk about it. This was a story I’d jammed so far down my gullet that it would take some magical hook to ever fish it out again.
I looked again at the ashtray and slid it to the other end of the table.
By the time Daniella came back I made sure I was absorbed solely in the choices on the menu. ‘Fancy splitting some pakoras?’ I said as she sat down. ‘Or do you want to go straight to mains?’
‘I don’t care.’
We kept our eyes away from one another and still hadn’t spoken by the time the waiter returned. Even as he was standing there, Daniella kept her head down, so I ordered a selection of dishes, handed the menu back and the waiter hurried away.
‘You don’t believe me then,’ I said to Daniella, sitting back in my seat.
‘I don’t know what to believe.’
There was a long pause.
‘Look,’ I said. ‘I’ll be honest: I didn’t want to tell you this, but I think Minto borrowed your car. I found the keys in his room.’
‘Right.’ Her response was monotone, and she didn’t even bother to look at me.
‘So, I reckon you were meant to find that fake article.’
She glanced at the ashtray and took out the crumpled ball.
‘You’re saying he made this up somehow?’ she said. ‘It’s not real – it’s just meant to look like a newspaper clipping.’
‘Exactly.’
‘C’mon Alec, why the hell would he do that?’
‘I have no idea. But – look, you can see it’s not a real newspaper cutting. And Minto’s a fucking headcase: you know that as well as I do.’
She looked down, flattening the sheet with her hand. ‘So, you’ve never been to this...Agastino Cafe?’
‘Not as far as I know.’
‘It exists though.’
‘Does it?’
She nodded. ‘I’ve heard of it. How would Minto know that though? He lives in Swansea. He wouldn’t even have heard of some station-side café, an hour from where he lives.’
‘Look, I don’t know, Daniella! Maybe he looked it up in the fucking phone book. Who the hell knows? But if he’s going to go to the trouble of making up a fake newspaper report, I’m sure he could easily find out the name of some local landmark, couldn’t he?’
She shrugged. ‘If you say so.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means I don’t know what to think! I don’t know what to believe!’ She looked around, fidgeting in her chair as she tried to keep control. ‘I mean, Mike keeps dropping hints about you and…when I think back, even on that first night I met you, his friend tried to warn me off.’
People on nearby tables were starting to glance in our direction, tune into our juicy conversation. I could sense them itching to drag their chairs closer, string words together, work out what the argument was about.
‘So, you’d sooner believe them than me? Is that it?’
‘No, of course not, Alec. But things don’t seem to add up, do they?’
I got to my feet – more because I couldn’t bear to sit there any longer than because I had a plan in mind. ‘If you don’t believe me, that’s fine. We can just forget it.’
Daniella refused to look at me, but the rest of the diners made up for it. I picked up my wallet and eyeballed the woman on the next table till she looked away.
‘You’re playing right into his hands, Daniella,’ I hissed, bending down to her ear. ‘This is exactly what Minto wants. Well fucking done!’
‘And Mike?’ she said. ‘And Mike’s friend? It’s not just Minto, it’s all of them.’
‘Well,’ I said. ‘Sounds like they’ve made your decision for you.’
I marched off and threw open the heavy glass door; power-walking out of there so fast my thoughts had no chance of catching up. But the further I hurried down the street, the more I sensed something at my heels, just half a step behind.
I looked back into the shadows, hoping to see Daniella hurrying to catch up with me, tell me it was okay.
But no one was there.
It was just the limp and hobble of my own past, desperate and determined to catch up with me.
Chapter 22
I slapped the cash directly into Minto’s hand and I made sure that Stobes and Black were in the kitchen at the same time. I was glad to finally get it sorted. ‘That’s last week’s rent plus the two that…disappeared, and the next fortnight’s,’ I said. ‘Five weeks in total. Sixty-five quid.’