by John Marrs
‘I did,’ said Peyk, and offered a genuine grin.
‘He must like you and wanted to say goodbye.’
As she walked away, Peyk thought he caught a glimpse of a man carefully watching Savannah from a distance.
CHAPTER 71
By the time the two girls Matty and Declan met over lunch had left their room, Matty’s chest felt heavier than ever.
Once the girl whose name he couldn’t remember had climaxed, he’d faked his orgasm to bring the lovemaking to a halt and tucked the empty condom under his mattress without her noticing.
Of all the increasing aches and twinges he’d suffered silently over the last few weeks, these were pains he was unfamiliar with. At first he’d put them down to sexual overexertion, but when they failed to taper off with medication, he gradually accepted it was more serious than that. Matty felt his body was slowing down; the clockwork inside him readying itself to grind to a halt, too rusty to be wound up again by chemicals.
‘Those birds were fecking incredible!’ said a still breathless Declan, opening the window to let the sex out and the fresh air in. ‘Did you see where she had her fingers? Dirty birdie.’
Matty faked a laugh and quietly regulated his breathing. He knew telling Declan he was unwell would only worry his friend, and the afternoon they were enjoying would finish with him in a bed at the public Los Angeles County and USC Medical Centre undergoing more tests that’d only tell him what he already knew.
‘You know, I hope you find someone,’ Matty said eventually.
‘Who d’you think that was bouncing up and down my wee fella? Casper the over-friendly ghost?’
‘I mean I hope you find someone to settle down with – do the whole marriage, house, 2.4 kids, a dog and a Volvo thing. I like to think you’ll be happy.’
‘Please don’t start this again,’ replied Declan, knowing full well the conversation was heading down a road he’d no wish to travel.
‘I’m not, I’m just thinking out loud.’
‘You’ll probably do all that before me.’
Matty gave Declan a knowing smile and then closed his eyes, counting the beats his useless heart was trying to hit.
CHAPTER 72
DAY FIFTEEN
Peyk smiled proudly as his eyes surveyed the crop of plants in his cannabis farm in room 23.
After gathering enough leaves, he placed them in the drying room in the corner of the converted dormitory and hung them upside down. From experience he knew that drying them too quickly meant they’d lose their taste, and if stored somewhere damp, mildew and mould would ruin them.
He hadn’t questioned Tommy when he’d taken five bricks worth and returned with $19,000 in cash, and Tommy didn’t tell him he’d got the money from Nicole or that she had so much more hidden above the ceiling tiles. The sale had rapidly depleted Peyk’s stock and would take time to replace, and time wasn’t on Peyk’s side. Like his product, he too had a shelf life.
He’d grown accustomed to the room’s stifling humidity and lack of ventilation, and was taking a break to rehydrate himself and mop the sweat from his brow when the familiar knock came at the door. As he opened it, Tommy pushed his way inside.
‘Hey, I told you to come in sideways so you let minimal light out and nobody sees—’ Peyk began, but Tommy was in no mood to listen.
‘I don’t care if the whole of Los Angeles knows what we’re doing,’ replied Tommy, ‘why didn’t you tell me that you knew who Jake really was?’
‘Ahh,’ replied Peyk and nodded, then returned to the plant he was pruning.
‘Earlier, when you said, “Don’t let the wrong people drag you down”, you were warning me to be careful of Jake, weren’t you?’
Peyk shrugged and passed Tommy a spare pair of sunglasses to protect his eyes from the powerful glare of the lamps surrounding them. Tommy hurled them across the room.
‘I don’t get it – we’re supposed to be mates, then you find out who he is and you don’t tell me?’
‘It wasn’t my place to, Tommy-boy. You had to find out for yourself.’
‘How did you know? Did he tell you?’
‘It’s not important.’
‘It is to me.’
‘Maybe you needed to get to know Jake before you met Stuart or you’d always be that goldfish in a bowl in the ocean.’
Tommy wanted to grab Peyk’s metaphorical bowl and smash it over his head, but he knew his anger was misplaced. What he wanted, above all else, was to go back to when it was just Tommy and Sean on their travels and everything was innocent and uncomplicated.
THREE MONTHS EARLIER – HOSTEL IN THE WOODS
The night air surrounding the Hostel in the Woods was cool, and the smell from Pauly’s joint overpowering.
The young American with the shoulder-length hair and a handlebar moustache hadn’t stopped talking at Tommy for forty minutes about why he’d never kill a cockroach. The essence of his theory, as Tommy understood it, was that the cockroaches you could see were the stupid ones who’d taken a foolhardy risk and been caught out in the open. By killing them, you’d be left with a race of intelligent ones. And, according to Pauly, that had the potential to bring catastrophe to the world, although quite why, Tommy didn’t have the energy to ask.
Tommy was weary after a day spent chopping firewood and was quietly resentful of Sean for enjoying the fire Tommy had built. Sean was becoming steadily drunker, and sang along as Stefan played Avicii’s travellers’ anthem, ‘Wake Me Up’, on his guitar. Tommy also felt a pang of envy when he saw Sean holding hands with a red-headed Australian woman he’d been chatting to earlier that day.
He was acutely aware of the widening gap between them since they’d arrived in the woods, a location that had brought out a side to Sean Tommy hadn’t seen before. Going back to nature appeared to suit him more than the large cities Tommy enjoyed exploring – and that worried him.
*
‘There’s nothing here to remind you of the outside world, is there?’ said a smiling Sean, swiping at the forest undergrowth with a discarded branch as they explored.
‘You’re saying that like it’s a good thing,’ muttered Tommy, following a few paces behind him on the woodchip path, trying to avoid nettle stings.
‘And it’s not?’
‘Actually no, Sean, it’s not.’ Tommy stopped in his tracks. ‘I’ve had enough of hearing people wanking on about the beauty of trees, shitting in a hole for a toilet, being bitten by mosquitoes and eating tofu with every meal. I want a warm shower, an HD TV screen and a Nando’s.’
‘Do you want to go home?’
‘No, I just want out of here. We’ve been here a week now and I’m bored off my tits. There’s nothing to do. We need to leave.’
‘When?’
‘Now? Well, not right now, but tonight when the minibus leaves for the station?’
‘Okay,’ Sean replied quietly, and continued to walk.
*
The rest of their day was spent in silence as an awkward atmosphere hung over them.
Tommy packed his rucksack and planned their next journey – to Memphis – while Sean hung out with the redhead whose name Tommy deliberately hadn’t asked. And as evening approached and the minibus spluttered to life, Tommy strapped his rucksack to the roof rack while Sean took a lingering look around him.
‘Pass me your bag,’ Tommy asked, but Sean didn’t move.
‘I don’t want to go,’ he replied.
‘What? We said—’
‘No, you said. This is my beach, Tommy.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘That book you keep banging on about . . . the reason we both came travelling, to find our beach . . . Well I’ve found mine and I really like it here, and I’m not ready to leave. You and I want to see different things, so I’m going to stay for a while.’
‘But I thought we were going to do this trip together?’ Tommy replied, and tried to suppress the fear bubbling in his gut.
‘We are, we have, b
ut it shouldn’t stop us doing stuff on our own, should it? We don’t need to be with each other all the time. We’ve spent two months tanking around at a million miles an hour, never stopping anywhere or getting to know a place for more than a few days at a time. I want to start being a part of somewhere, and this is a good place to begin. But you’re too busy running to really enjoy this. You’re taking travelling too literally for me.’
‘Okay, we’ll stay here then if that’s what you want.’
‘No, mate, I want to stay here but I don’t want you to because it’s going to make you miserable, and I know better than most people how much sadness you’ve already had in your life. This trip is the chance of a lifetime, and I’m not going to be responsible for you not grabbing every opportunity you can. You can do this on your own, trust me.’
Tommy looked at his feet and said nothing because he knew Sean was right.
‘Let’s meet up two months from now in that Los Angeles hostel you liked the look of,’ continued Sean, ‘the one in Venice Beach?’
‘Okay, if that’s what you want.’
‘Yes, mate, it is what I want, and it’s what you need. And Tommy – I hope you find your beach there.’
Tommy nodded, hoping for the same thing.
CHAPTER 73
TODAY
Like an army of worker ants, a dozen hostellers carried kegs of beer and trays of food in plastic wrappers from the kitchen, down the corridor and to the hired van Peyk had left parked outside.
Eager to take her mind off reflecting on her ghastly last few days, Nicole appointed herself as coordinator, and rallied the troops to help prepare the food for the beach party in Santa Monica later that night. Jake was the last in line, and picked up a 24-pack of Budweiser.
‘Thanks,’ said Nicole, taking a sneaky glance at his muscular arms protruding from his grey vest. If Tommy did swing both ways, then Nicole conceded he had impeccable taste in men.
Jake reciprocated with a smile, but neither was completely relaxed around the other. Both were certain they had feelings for Tommy, and both suspected Jake had won in a battle that had never been declared. But as he hadn’t seen Tommy since their awkward coffee together a day earlier, Jake was no longer so confident of his victory.
The speed at which Tommy had abandoned Jake’s company and rushed away both disappointed and saddened Jake. His only explanation for it was that Tommy regretted what had happened between them, regarded it as a one-off and was now too embarrassed to admit it or spend any more time with him.
Already that morning, Jake had paid a visit to Tommy’s dormitory and found his bed unmade and empty, before glimpsing the edge of a photograph peeking out from under Tommy’s pillow. Curious, he edged it out and saw two almost identical faces – young men who must be twins, he assumed.
‘You haven’t seen Tommy around, have you?’ Jake asked Nicole.
‘No, I’ve not seen him much in the last couple of days. I presumed he was with you.’
‘He’s probably got a hangover,’ Jake lied. ‘He’ll be keeping a low profile until it wears off.’
Nicole paused, and chose her words carefully before speaking. ‘Jake, will you promise me you’ll look out for Tommy? I know it’s not my place to say, but he’s had a lot to deal with in the last few years, so please don’t let him down, okay?’
‘I won’t,’ Jake replied, curious as to why Tommy had confided in Nicole and not him. ‘You can trust me. You can both trust me.’
And for the briefest of moments, even Jake believed the words coming from his mouth.
*
‘Penny for them?’ asked Savannah when she wandered into the kitchen to find Nicole sitting alone in silence and staring blankly at the wall. Empty food wrappers surrounded her.
‘Oh, you don’t want to know,’ Nicole replied. ‘How was your last night at work? Jane said it was your final shift.’
‘Yeah, and it was way better knowing my bikini line won’t be chaffed by dollar bills ever again.’
‘When are you moving out to suburbia?’
‘As soon as I pack my stuff I’ll catch a cab to West Hollywood with Jane.’
‘Do you need a hand packing? As you can see, I haven’t got much else on until tonight.’
‘Sure, that’d be great.’
As they walked arm in arm towards her room, Savannah caught Nicole glancing at her stomach but apparently thinking twice about asking a question. However, Savannah guessed what was on her mind.
‘Kind of messed up, isn’t it? Not knowing who the father of your baby is, even if he walked past you in the street,’ she began, and then explained the circumstances surrounding the night she became pregnant.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Nicole. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through.’
‘That’s why this new start is so important to me,’ Savannah replied firmly, ‘I’m done with being the victim.’
‘I know that feeling,’ thought Nicole.
The first thing Savannah noticed when she unlocked the door to her room was Jane’s empty bed, stripped of its sheets and pillowcases. Her suitcase was no longer under her bed and the bathroom was cleared of her toiletries.
‘Wow, she’s so organised,’ said Savannah. ‘She must have got the keys early and moved her stuff already.’
‘Didn’t she tell you she was going?’
‘No, we arranged to meet here later and then head up to the new place. She probably left me a message at reception.’
The last two days had been a harsh and steep learning curve for Nicole, and her natural instinct to trust people had eroded and been replaced with suspicion. She was glancing around the room when something in the dustbin caught her eye.
‘Whose are these kids?’ she asked, picking out a photo frame with two smiling faces inside.
‘They’re Jane’s,’ replied Savannah, puzzled.
‘Why’s she thrown them away?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Savannah, I don’t want to worry you, but I don’t have a good feeling about this.’
Neither did Savannah, and she marched over to where her locker stood and moved it to one side to reveal the space behind the wall where she hid her earnings. It was empty.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Nicole.
‘All the money I’ve saved, I keep it here. It’s gone!’
CHAPTER 74
Matty glanced around the walls of the pawnshop while an assistant found the corresponding pink ticket to the one Matty presented him with.
All around him, acoustic and electric guitars sat on plinths. Three separate drum kits were arranged to fill corners, and a variety of brass instruments balanced on shelves. The shop was a graveyard of abandoned ambitions, and he wondered how many dreams had died in that one shop.
‘This the one?’ the shopkeeper asked briskly, and passed Matty a silver chain and crucifix.
The necklace was the last gift Matty’s parents had given to him before they waved their emotional goodbyes at Dublin airport a year earlier. He hadn’t told Declan he’d pawned it the previous week so they could afford to eat, even though it had upset Matty greatly. But thanks to the ten $100 bills someone anonymously shoved under their door, he could now buy it back. Both suspected Tommy had something to do with their cash donation, as he was the only one aware of their situation, but they respected his desire to keep it quiet so they resisted mentioning it.
Matty paid the shopkeeper and gripped the necklace tightly in the palm of his hand, confident its next owner would treasure it as much as he had.
CHAPTER 75
Nicole ran with Savannah from her room to the hostel reception desk where Sadie sat with her feet up, engrossed in her Kindle.
‘Sadie, is Jane still checked in?’ Nicole asked, her bruised ribs aching from moving so quickly.
‘Surname?’ she replied, irritated by the disturbance. Nicole looked towards Savannah.
‘Um, I’m not sure,’ Savannah replied, embarrassed at no
t knowing the answer to such a simple question.
‘There’s a Jane who checked out 9.45 this morning,’ continued Sadie, scanning the guest register. ‘Jane Doherty. Is that her?’
‘Jane Doherty?’ repeated Nicole, and closed her eyes. ‘Jane Doe.’
‘Tell me this isn’t happening,’ Savannah replied, her voice beginning to crack. ‘That was all the money I had in the world.’
‘Have you got an address for the new place?’
‘The brochure’s in my handbag upstairs.’
‘Good, you go and get it and I’ll find us a taxi.’
Nicole dashed outside and scanned the passing traffic. She didn’t notice the brown station wagon parked on the opposite side of the road or the driver sitting behind the wheel.
*
Nicole and Savannah didn’t say a word to each other as their taxi drove along Wilshire Boulevard in the direction of West Hollywood.
Nicole was accustomed to consoling hospital patients when they’d received bad news, but today she had nothing up her sleeve that might ease Savannah’s concerns. Meanwhile Savannah, spine rigid and fists clenched tightly into balls, remained silent. She was desperate to be wrong about Jane; hoping against all hope that there’d been some mix-up and the woman who was about to help turn her life around was not actually a scam artist.
After a frustratingly long forty-five minute journey in heavy traffic, the cab reached its destination in a leafy West Hollywood suburb. Nicole paid the driver, giving him extra to remain by the kerb until they knew one way or another whether this was a terrible misunderstanding or deliberate deceit.
Savannah’s legs felt heavy and clumsy as she stepped out, steadying herself against the car’s door frame.
