by R. D. Ronald
Scott took a shower and then changed his clothes for the first time since Twinkle’s death. Before that there hadn’t seemed any point. He’d just slept in his clothes when he felt tired and walked around when he didn’t. Boris had known something was wrong, but had just trotted along beside him when he walked and curled up beside him when he slept. At least dogs don’t ask questions, and they don’t judge you, he thought. Scott did feel better after washing and changing, but then felt guilty because of it. He went to the kitchen and made stale cheese sandwiches for him and Boris after the fridge refused to offer up anything more edible.
When Angela turned up, Scott was greeted with the impression she was going to be there longer than just a few hours. She had a large hiker type backpack slung over one shoulder which appeared to be loaded up with her stuff. After he’d opened the front door Angela came in and dumped it in his bedroom before going to the kitchen to make herself a drink. She was sullen and preoccupied, telling him only that she’d contacted Stephanie’s mother to see if she’d gone there but was told they had neither seen nor spoken to her since she’d left the hospital.
Scott could tell Angela blamed herself and it was a feeling he could relate to. Stephanie would probably turn up though; Twinkle may turn up as well but it was more likely to be at the bottom of a lake, or when some waste ground was dug up to lay foundations for a new building.
His impression that Angela had come to stay proved to be correct. She didn’t ask and he didn’t say anything, she just stayed. Not the usual Angela that he was accustomed to; she was quiet and jumped at the slightest sound and even talked about going away for a while, getting out of the city, which wasn’t like her at all, but having her there still felt good, helped the hours pass by a little easier, and Boris was delighted as Angela always fussed over him. She went out and restocked his cupboards and cleaned the place probably better than it had been done in years.
When they were out walking, or even sitting in the evening watching TV, Angela would suddenly grab for her phone, thinking she’d heard it ring and that it would be news of Stephanie. The phantom rings were just in her head though, and New Year arrived without any word on either her or Twinkle.
Angela had bought ready-made Indian meals, red wine and candles from the supermarket for their New Year’s Eve in together. She hadn’t suggested going out anywhere and Scott wouldn’t have gone anyway. He didn’t want to take the chance of running into anyone from McBlane’s lot or whoever had beaten Neil up either. Neil would usually have been pestering Scott to go out continually over the holidays, but after the scare he’d had before Christmas he was keeping a low profile and staying with Elizabeth at her place.
Around two in the morning Angela was in the kitchen refilling their wine glasses when Scott’s phone rang and Jack flashed up on the caller ID screen.
‘Happy New Year,’ Scott said as he answered the call.
‘Fuck that. Twinkle’s really done it this time.’
Scott’s blood ran cold, what did Jack know about it? Scott tried not to panic and keep his voice steady when he answered.
‘What do you mean, done what?’
‘Someone’s been shot outside of the club and one of the doormen saw him do it.’
‘What, who was it?’ Scott said, struggling to decipher what was going on.
‘That guy with the earring you asked about the other night. He tried to grab him but Twinkle shook him off and ran. The police are gonna be after him for sure this time Scott. He even dropped his wallet as he got away from the doorman, for fuck’s sake.’
Now it made sense. Eventually someone would have realised he’d vanished and reported him missing, and with Twinkle getting close to Sharon again she might have done it even sooner. This way there’s an investigation to find him but now he had a reason to not want to be found.
‘Scott, you still there?’
‘Yeah, OK thanks for letting me know,’ he said, and hung up.
‘Was that Jack?’ Angela asked, evenly, carrying their refilled glasses back into the room.
‘Yeah, there’s been another shooting at Aura.’
‘Who was shot?’
‘I have no idea but the evidence seems to suggest it was Twinkle that did it.’
‘Do you think it was him?’
‘No, no I really don’t, but the police will be looking for him anyway. We should get out of here.’
‘You think they’ll come here tonight?’
‘I don’t know but they’re bound to connect me to him so I need to get the drugs out.’
Scott reached for his phone again and called Neil.
‘What?’ Neil said into the receiver after it rang half a dozen times, breathing heavily.
‘Whatever you’re doing, quit it. I need to come and see you now.’
‘What time is it?’
‘A little after two, are you still at Elizabeth’s?’
‘Yeah, why do you have to see me at two in the morning on New Year’s Eve? Just wish me happy New Year over the phone like anyone else.’
‘Fuck off. Where does she live?’
‘At the Walker building, are you coming here now?’
‘The Walker building, where Jack lives?’
‘Yeah, you need the number?’
‘No, I’ll text you when I’m near, you can come and meet me outside.’
Scott ended the call and immediately dialled Pressman cabs. The number rang seven times before Iris answered.
‘Pressman cabs, you’ve got no chance we’re fully booked.’
‘Iris it’s Scott, is there any way you can fit me in? It’s a bit of an emergency.’
‘Hi Scott,’ she said and coughed into the phone, which sounded like someone shaking a bag full of dice. Reg and Stan are both working tonight but even we’ve been flat out with calls. How much of an emergency is it?’
Scott looked at Angela as he tried to think up an excuse.
‘It’s my friend’s mother, she’s been taken ill,’ he said, shrugging at Angela as if to say what choice did he have?
‘Alright Scott I’ll have one of them there as soon as I can.’
‘Thanks Iris, you’re the best,’ Scott said, hung up and went straight into the bedroom and pulled the wardrobe away from the wall. He flipped back the carpet and levered up a loose board revealing a small lock-box underneath. Taking all the money and what remaining drugs they had from the stash, Scott stuffed it all into his pockets and watched out of the window for the arrival of their cab.
A light rain was falling outside, melting the remaining patches of lying snow into slush. The cab’s tyres slurred on the wet gravel as it pulled onto the driveway. Scott and Angela grabbed their coats and left.
‘Reg my man, you’ve saved the day,’ Scott said, climbing into the overbearingly warm cab. Angela climbed in beside him and sniffed as she closed the door.
‘Have to be quick, there’s a bunch of people gonna be real pissed off when I don’t turn up for them in a few minutes,’ Reg said, looking at Scott in the rear-view, and then to Angela, ‘so is your mother really sick then?’
Angela first looked at Scott and then at Reg’s reflection staring back at her and said ‘Ahh – well...’
‘Yeah I thought so. For anyone else I wouldn’t do this but Scott’s a good lad,’ he said, quickly accelerating off the driveway scattering chunks of gravel behind them. ‘So where to?’
‘Anywhere near the Walker building, Reg.’
The dark countryside flew past on either side of the cab. Scott self-consciously slid a palm over the cash and bags of drugs in his pockets, then felt Angela’s hand slide reassuringly into his. The only other talking Reg did was into the cab radio telling Iris he’d be back to pick up the Stillman party as soon as he could. The fields gave way to clusters of houses and then housing estates as the car sped along the wet roads towards the city.
Paying the fare as well as a healthy tip, Scott got out and thanked Reg again and watched as the cab disappeared around the
corner.
‘Are we going in?’ Angela asked, as Scott typed out a text message on his phone.
‘No, he’ll come out,’ Scott said, not wanting to get close enough to the building to be recognised by a concierge.
A few minutes later, a slightly more dishevelled than usual Neil emerged through the revolving doors and catching sight of them across the street, made his way over. His limp had almost gone but the streetlights reflected off his swollen and bruised face. The colour had at least now faded to yellow and orange.
‘Twinkle’s in serious shit,’ Scott said when Neil was close enough to hear; a pang of guilt rang through him for perpetuating the lie.
‘What this time?’
‘Someone else has been shot, this time just outside Aura. They reckon it was definitely him.’
‘Are they dead?’
‘I don’t know,’ Scott said, thinking about it for a second. ‘Jack never said.’
‘So what do you want me for?’ Neil asked, and Scott was beginning to feel more than a little pissed off at the impatient tone in his voice.
‘The police will be looking for him, and they’ll connect us. I had to get the drugs out of my place.’
‘I can’t take them,’ Neil said, holding up both palms as if in surrender.
‘You fucking are taking them!’
‘No way will Elizabeth be into that, I’m lucky to be able to even stay here while those fuckers are on the prowl for us. She won’t have a bag of drugs in there as well.’
Scott thought for a minute on his next move. ‘Alright then, here,’ he said, counting out roughly half of the bundle of cash he had. ‘That’s your share of the funds. As of now we’re officially liquidated.’
‘Might be for the best,’ Neil said, flicking through the bills. ‘At least till everything calms down.’
‘I need a lift back to the house.’
‘Elizabeth’s waiting inside. Can’t you get a cab?’
‘It’s New Year. We had to lie to Iris just to get a cab downhere. You think I’m gonna wander around the city with a pocket full of drugs looking for one now? No fucking way, you’re driving,’ he said, jabbing a finger at Neil’s chest.
Scott turned and walked off in the direction of the car park, Angela caught up after a few steps. Neil stood moaning for a few more seconds but when Scott didn’t stop or turn around, he dutifully began to follow.
‘What you gonna do with them then?’ Neil asked him, keeping pace alongside them now.
‘Bury them down by the tree.’
‘Won’t they like, go mouldy or something?’
‘Hopefully not, I’ll put them in a biscuit tin or a box or whatever.’
A police siren invaded the stillness of the night. Scott froze momentarily and then quickly sped up again, his nerve endings felt as charred as burnt toast.
‘Plenty to keep them busy tonight, man, don’t worry,’ Neil said in an attempt to be reassuring and slapped Scott on the shoulder. Scott shook it off and quickened his pace.
More sirens taunted the night as Neil navigated his car through some of the narrow city back streets. He’d learned the most efficient routes to avoid camera cover over the years. He’d probably make a good cab driver, Scott thought. Shortly the bustle of activity from the city was behind them and quiet suburban roads led on to silent country lanes. Neil dropped them off and left with a promise that he’d check back in with Scott in a few days.
Back in the house they both searched around for a container to put the drugs in; Angela came up with an airtight refrigerator tub which seemed like it would be fit for purpose.
Pausing only to uncork a bottle of wine for the journey and fetch the best digging implement he could find – an old rusty trowel his uncle had stowed away under the sink – they headed straight out back and off into the woods.
‘Do you have somewhere in mind?’ Angela asked after taking a swig from the bottle.
‘May as well bury it at the usual spot, if I put it somewhere else I’m bound to forget where the hell it is.’
Although the rain had stopped the ground was still wet and slippery underfoot. Sporadic cloud cover meant keeping their feet was difficult at times when little moonlight could sneak through to aid them.
Scott started digging at the base of the Elephant Tree. No grass or other vegetation grew there so the wet earth came away easily enough as he thrust the blade of the old trowel into the ground like a dagger in a Shakespearean play. Angela sat back on the log holding the plastic container, the wine bottle placed between her feet, and she smoked a cigarette while Scott dug the hole. Boris, paying particular attention to what Scott was doing, dug as well, flinging clods of earth skyward in his frenzied efforts. Angela called to the dog to keep him out of Scott’s way.
Scott placed the container of drugs into the hole, pushed the wet earth back into place and stamped it down.
Back at the house they lay naked in bed with the remainder of the wine. The still filthy dog was secured in the kitchen with a promise from Scott to wash him in the morning. They’d stripped off their wet mud-splattered clothes and showered together, soaping each other’s bodies before slowly making love under the steady stream of hot water.
‘We should get away from here for a while,’ Angela said when they were in bed together, lazily tracing circles on his chest with the tip of a fingernail. ‘There’s too much shit going on.’
‘You said that yesterday but where would we go?’
‘You remember that opportunity dad talked about at the party?’
‘Vaguely.’
‘Well he knows a guy with some land up in the mountains. He has a house there with a guest cabin too, he’d let us stay.’
‘Yeah? He doesn’t know me though, you sure?’
‘Dad will vouch for you, and besides I’d be there as well. Just stock up on a load of groceries and stuff and he’ll be more than happy to see us. He doesn’t go out much and it’s almost an hour’s drive to what we’d consider civilisation.’
‘When would you want to leave?’
‘First thing in the morning is good for me. We won’t get phone reception up at the house but a nearby village has coverage so I can keep checking on any developments with Steph from there. There’s nothing you have to be here for is there?’
‘Just the opposite,’ Scott said, taking a deep breath, and letting the air slowly exhale out of him. His statement carried more meaning than Angela could have anticipated.
‘OK pack your stuff in the morning, we’ll head to dad’s first, he’ll get us a car to use for the trip.’
‘That backpack you brought was for more than spending a few nights here then?’
‘Well I was gonna go up there eventually anyway and I hoped you’d come with, I just hadn’t found the right time to bring it up yet.’
Scott woke around four hours later to find Angela had already vacated the bed and had been replaced by a slightly damp but otherwise clean Boris.
Angela must have been up for a while, the place had been cleaned through, the dog washed and lots of food supplies had already been boxed up in the kitchen.
‘I’ve spoken to dad and he’s in the process of getting a car for us now,’ Angela said, and greeted him with a kiss as he emerged sleepily from the bedroom.
‘It’s not gonna be stolen is it?’
‘No, dummy. He’s gonna get it to partly pay off a debt someone owes him.’
‘That still doesn’t rule out it being stolen,’ Scott said grinning, and Angela punched him playfully on the arm. ‘When do we have to pick it up?’
‘He’s gonna get it sorted and drive it out here, we can drop him back off on our way.’
‘Sounds like you have everything organised, I may as well go back to bed,’ Scott said and turned in the direction of the bedroom.
‘Don’t you dare,’ she said, ‘go pack up some clothes.’
Scott spent the next hour neatly packing up things he’d need for himself and the dog, plus some of the trinke
ts lying around the place. He didn’t know how long they’d be away so he thought a little familiarity in their new setting would make him feel a bit more at home.
‘You’re like a woman,’ Angela said, teasing him for the methodical packing.
‘Be quiet, I just like to be thorough.’
‘Thoroughly like a woman then.’
A car horn sounded outside and Angela went to the window to check if it was Putty.
‘Dad’s here, Scott. Let’s get everything in the car.’
Putty stood beside an old grey Renault that juddered and spluttered a little as it idled in neutral.
‘I don’t know how far we’re going but are you sure this will get us there?’ Scott said.
‘Fuck off, it might be old but I’ve had it checked over and it’s all in good order, which on New Year’s day I might add was a pain in the ass to get done.’
‘Alright dad, we appreciate it,’ Angela said, and gave his hand a squeeze.
Twenty minutes later Scott was driving the car back towards town. Putty shared the back seat with Boris who seemed excited by his new surroundings and happily bounded from side to side, clambering over Putty to look out of the windows; Angela rode up front and the boot was loaded up with clothes and supplies from the house.
‘You want to tell me a bit about this friend of yours then?’ Scott asked.
‘Yeah he’s a decent guy, bit weird though. Doesn’t much like people.’
‘Fantastic.’
‘I don’t mean he doesn’t like anyone at all, just he’s pretty selective and prefers mostly to keep to himself. I got started selling weed with him years ago when we were younger. He was never cut out for it though. He liked to smoke but could never get on with the customers,’ Putty said reflectively. ‘He thought they were mostly just idiots.’
‘Maybe he was right,’ Scott said, grinning.