An Old Score

by Edie Baylis

  Heath smiled bashfully. ‘I knocked the vinegar over...’

  ‘I heard,’ Teagan smiled, relaxing a little.

  Heath pulled out a chair for Teagan, seeing her hesitate for a moment before sitting down. ‘What would you like to drink?’

  ‘Just tea please,’ Teagan said, placing her handbag on the chair nearest to her.

  Taking the hint, Heath sat opposite and grinned at the waitress. ‘Two teas, please.’ He then turned his attention back to Teagan. ‘Wow! It’s been ages. It’s so great to see you, you look fantastic!’ He hoped that didn’t come across as slimy. He didn’t want to put her off or make her any more uncomfortable than she already was. ‘I can’t believe it’s been so long since I last saw you. How have you been?’

  Teagan smiled nervously. ‘It must be nearly ten years.’ She looked down at the table awkwardly. ‘It sounds awful, but I can’t place you. I’m ever so embarrassed. I know I should be able to and it makes me feel very rude.’

  Heath laughed. ‘It’s fine - we weren’t in loads of classes together... Hey, do you remember when Tom Bunting accidentally set fire to his tie with a Bunsen burner in chemistry?’

  Teagan’s eyes widened. ‘Oh my God, I’d completely forgotten about that!’ She relaxed tenfold. She must know Darren Harding if he remembered that.

  Heath grinned, knowing from her expression alone that Teagan now believed he wasn’t a random stranger. Not that he was who he said he was, but at least it wasn’t in a creepy way. It was all in aid of the greater good.

  ‘Here’s your teas.’ The waitress deposited two mugs of tea on the chipped tabletop and indicated to the stained sachets of sugar in a bowl next to the salt and pepper.

  Nodding his thanks, Heath turned back to Teagan, catching her studying him before quickly averting her eyes. ‘Right, you’d best start filling me in with what you’ve been doing for the last ten years.’

  Twenty Three

  TEAGAN COULDN’T BELIEVE two hours had passed. She hadn’t expected to be more than half an hour, presuming that there wouldn’t be much to talk about once they’d covered the school days. Darren had mentioned a couple more funny things she’d forgotten about and a handful of people she remembered, but he hadn’t just gone on about school – he was interested in her life too – what she’d been doing and how she was.

  Chatting easily, time had flown by and she caught herself taking another surreptitious glance at Darren. He was a nice-looking man, no doubt about that and the more she looked at him, the more she noticed something familiar about him. Maybe she was starting to remember him after all?

  He had manners too. So, so much different to what she’d been used to.

  Just thinking of Joe caused Teagan’s spirits to plummet like a brick and the prospect of seeing him later wasn’t something she was looking forward to.

  ‘Was it something I said?’ Heath said, giving Teagan a cheeky wink. ‘I must be boring you rigid! I keep forgetting people aren’t generally interested in the ins and outs of music production.’ Yes, he’d used that one again.

  Teagan looked flustered. ‘Sorry, I was just thinking, that’s all.’

  ‘Anything I can help with?’

  Teagan shook her head and sighed loudly. ‘It’s my ex. I’ve got to meet him later.’

  Heath laughed. ‘There’s easier ways of getting away from me without the ex story!’

  Teagan was horrified. Oh God, now she’d insulted him. ‘I didn’t mean it like that, honestly. I’m really enjoying our chat and the thought of having to leave is a bit of a downer, that’s all.’

  ‘Hey, I was only pulling your leg,’ Heath smiled. ‘Talk about your ex as much as you want - as long as he’s not giving you a hard time because then I won’t be happy.’

  Teagan blushed. Did that mean Darren liked her?

  When Teagan didn’t elaborate about the ex, Heath changed direction. ‘Working as a carer must be stressful.’

  ‘Probably nowhere near as stressful as music production,’ Teagan said. He’d got such a high-flying career, whereas she... well...

  ‘But your job makes a difference.’ Heath said. ‘Yes, producing music is great and I love my work, but you... you make a real difference to peoples’ lives which is so important.’

  Teagan’s cheeks burned from the complement. No one ever said anything she did was important. ‘It can be difficult sometimes.’ She looked into Darren’s face. ‘The lady I’m working for at the moment has some... erm... health issues unfortunately, which can make her a bit difficult at times, but the rest of the time she’s a joy to be around.’

  Heath kept the caring expression on his face. ‘She sounds lovely.’ She was talking about Dulcie Adams. Wonderful. Carry on, Teagan.

  ‘Oh, she is,’ Teagan said animatedly. ‘Fascinating too. I’d love to go and see some of the places she talks about.’ She knew she shouldn’t discuss clients, but it wasn’t like Darren knew Dulcie. It wasn’t like she was talking about anything personal.

  ‘Like where?’ Heath said, keeping up his feigned interest.

  ‘She used to work at a place called The Feathers – a club. It sounds wonderful, but I don’t know whether it even still exists, or if it ever did.’ Teagan looked down shyly. ‘Sometimes what Dulcie says isn’t true, but if it is still there, I’d love to see what it’s like.’

  Heath frowned. ‘The Feathers? Where is it?’ He knew exactly where it was and that it was still going - owned by the family responsible for murdering his grandfather...

  ‘Oh, it’s in London somewhere. Soho, I think,’ Teagan continued. ‘I keep meaning to look it up, but the internet is so flaky back at the house, it’s difficult.’

  Heath smiled. Yep, this girl was definitely working for the woman they wanted. This was good. ‘It sounds amazing! Now, can I get you another drink?’

  LENA ALLOWED THE MEANINGLESS CHATTER of Nina drift over her head whilst she deftly made the monthly adjustments to tighten her hair extensions. The girl could talk for England, but it was no skin off her nose. All she had to do was ‘um’ and ‘ah’ in the right places and it was plain sailing.

  Lena scrolled through the recent text messages on her phone – staring at the last one from her Uncle Ron.

  She’d been more than happy with what he’d told her when she’d filled him in with the news of where she was at with her life. More than happy. She’d heard nothing since, but now he knew what her news meant for the rest of her family, she strongly suspected that it wouldn’t be long before they all came out of the woodwork.

  Lena’s overly made-up face morphed into a scowl. The nugget of information from trusty old Uncle Ron would help immensely in securing her position. She’d let Jonah think he’d succeeded in relegating her to the bottom of the pile and heeding what he’d said about interfering at the club. She’d keep a low profile for a bit and then she’d use it.

  Lena smiled widely, not doubting for a moment that within a day or two of letting this bombshell slip, Jonah would be convinced that not giving her reins to do what she wished where the club was concerned was an ill-informed oversight. He’d soon be convinced that she was perfect for the job over that sour-faced old bat after all and Gwen herself would be the one to convince him of that – she just didn’t know it yet. But she would. Soon.

  ‘I didn’t think it was that funny!’ Nina’s voice pulled Lena from her plans.

  ‘What?’ Lena snapped, glancing at Nina rummaging around in her roots in the mirror.

  ‘All I said was that I’d lost a stone on that new diet that’s all the rage and you’re grinning like a Cheshire cat! It’s ok for you – it’s not like you need to lose any weight,’ Nina moaned.

  Lena laughed and proudly smoothed her hand over her toned denim-clad thighs. ‘No, I suppose not, but you look great,’ she lied, then stared at the empty wine glass on the marble counter in front of her. ‘What really would make me smile though is if you’d top up my wine. Another large one if you wouldn’t mind?’

  Nina grin
ned. Putting the long-tailed comb down, she picked up Lena’s glass. ‘How I’d love to spend afternoons drinking wine. That would be my idea of a perfect day!’

  Lena smiled serenely as Nina wandered off to refill her glass, only letting it drop the minute she was out of sight.

  That girl had no chance of spending her afternoons sipping wine and getting her hair done. Neither did she have the chance of getting hitched to the most eligible bachelor this side of Watford Gap, looking the way she did. For a start, the woman was not her and secondly, with a bin man for a husband, she didn’t have a hope in hell of achieving it either.

  Seeing Nina return, Lena slid her smile back in place and picked up the fresh glass of wine. ‘Cheers! Oh, it’s all go – it really is. I’ve got to go and find my outfit for the party after I’ve finished here.’

  She raised her eyebrows slightly, waiting for Nina to ask either a question about what she would be wearing or about the party itself. Thanks to Jonah’s stinginess, it put the dress she’d had her eye on out of the equation. Fancy only giving her two grand to spend! What heap of shit was that supposed to buy? A bloody bag of crap from Primark? No fucking thanks.

  Luckily, she still had a couple of his credit cards in her purse, one of which had 25k still available on it which should suffice. She wouldn’t be looking anything but perfect at such an important event.

  ‘I still can’t believe you’re going to be Mrs Jonah Powell,’ gushed Nina. ‘It’s so exciting.’

  ‘I know,’ Lena said smugly, silently wondering why anyone should think it such an unbelievable prospect. Jonah was getting his money’s worth out of her, wasn’t he? ‘It’ll be a huge night at the club. Anybody worth anything will be there. The usual celebrities and everything.’

  Nina’s mouth dropped open. ‘Really? Wow! And in the VIP suite too.’

  Lena laughed ‘There’s not much of a problem bagging that when your fiancé owns the club.’

  ‘I’ve always wanted to go in there,’ Nina hinted. ‘It’s one of those places you always dream of being invited to...’ She looked at Lena hopefully.

  Lena smiled. She knew what Nina was angling at, but the woman had no chance of an invite in a million years. ‘If you or your husband were members of the main club, then you might perhaps get a glimpse of the celebs as they arrive, but I don’t expect you are, are you?’

  Blushing, Nina shook her head in embarrassment. ‘Oh, erm... no, but we were thinking about it not so long ago.’

  Lena smiled patronisingly. A years’ membership to The Feathers would be more than both their salaries combined. ‘Oh well, never mind.’ She turned her head from side to side, inspecting her finished locks. ‘That looks much better now, doesn’t it?’

  Twenty Four

  TEAGAN HAD BEEN RELUCTANT to leave Darren – she’d been really enjoying his company, but she’d promised Joe and she didn’t like going back on promises.

  Cutting through the park, she diverted towards the bench where they’d arranged to meet. In hindsight, she’d been stupid to suggest meeting there, being as that had been their special place – the one back at the start of their relationship when things had been good. At least, when she’d thought things had been good... But according to Joe, apparently things had never been good.

  That didn’t matter now. Her life with him was over and despite being gutted, it was slowly becoming easier. This afternoon with Darren had done wonders for that.

  Spotting Joe’s familiar figure as the bench came into view, Teagan’s mind raced. Her afternoon with Darren now felt like it had occurred a lifetime ago and the excitement and renewed sense of confidence she’d felt when he’d asked to see her again evaporated into thin air.

  Joe looked dreadful. He sat, his elbows resting on his thighs and his chin in his hands, staring into space. The over-confident cocky man she’d once fallen madly for had disappeared, replaced by a washed-out, grey-looking, terrified shell.

  Teagan didn’t think she’d ever seen Joe look so withdrawn and shaken. Exactly what could have gone wrong? What could have happened to Alan? Why did Joe so desperately need to see her?

  ‘Hi,’ she said awkwardly.

  Joe’s head jerked up and he thrust a newspaper into Teagan’s hands. ‘Look at this! This will prove I wasn’t making up what I said.’

  Sitting down, Teagan looked at the newspaper, open at a specific page:

  Coma Nightmare After Horrific Attack

  Local man, Alan Hardwick, 28, was found unconscious and badly beaten on the doorstep of his home by his two horrified housemates.

  Mr Hardwick still remains in a critical condition in intensive care following his extensive head injuries. It is not known at this stage whether Mr Hardwick will have suffered any permanent damage if he regains consciousness.

  At present, Police have been unable to find any motive for the attack and are appealing for witnesses who saw anything in the Weir Road area around 8pm on 15th June to come forward as soon as possible.

  Folding the paper in two, Teagan was about to speak when Joe launched into a wild babble. Listening to what was coming out of his mouth she could barely believe what she was hearing. She’d love to believe he was making it up, or at the very least, exaggerating, but she could tell from his body language alone, that every single word he spoke was for once, the truth.

  Closing her eyes in despair, she leant her head against the back of the bench, allowing the breeze to flow over her and inhaled slowly to stop herself escalating into full-blown panic. She didn’t know what to say and still couldn’t quite get her head around any of it.

  ‘You think what happened to Alan was definitely these two men that you’ve just told me about? The two who came to your house before?’

  Joe nodded, his bloodshot eyes flickering nervously. ‘It’s got to be. Who else would have done that? It was a message. A very clear one.’

  ‘Then I really don’t understand why you haven’t told the police? These men have previously threatened you, also Dave said he’d seen them in the area around the time of the attack? You’re withholding information about things that are clearly connected, Joe. You could identify these people if...’

  ‘We can’t!’ Joe cried, raking his shaking fingers through his unwashed hair. ‘You don’t understand! If we did that it would make things a thousand times worse.’

  Teagan frowned. How could it make things worse? ‘But if yo...’

  ‘They weren’t messing around. They’re not normal people, Teag,’ Joe blathered. ‘Those fuckers are the real deal. And I mean proper gangster-types.’

  Teagan listened with mounting dread as Joe filled her in with what the visit to the house had been about in the first place. She felt like screaming. She didn’t want to be involved in something like this, but much to her horror, apparently the only reason she was involved was because they’d spotted him talking to her on the doorstep the day he’d come to the house to dump her.

  And what about Dulcie? There was no way Dulcie would have had anything to do with this sort of thing. Despite how she sometimes acted, she was a lovely, sweet lady and was only having periods of strange behaviour because of this bloody cruel disease.

  ‘I can see you don’t think it’s feasible,’ Joe said. ‘And to be quite honest, nor do I - even if that lady of yours is a miserable, vicious old cow. But what I do know is, whether they’re right or not, it’s what they believe. They’re not going to walk away from it.’

  He grasped Teagan’s hand. ‘If it isn’t me they come for next, Teagan, it will be you. You’re the only one with access.’

  Teagan pulled her hand away. Joe’s very touch felt like her skin was being dipped in acid. How could he put her in this position? She shook her head with confusion. She wanted to run away as quickly as possible to a destination as far removed as time would allow.

  Teagan bit back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Whether she liked it or not, she was earmarked by these... these people, whoever they were, and what Joe said was true
- if she didn’t help him get what they wanted, then it didn’t look likely they would casually forget about all of this.

  A shudder ran through her. It still could be her and would be if she didn’t do something. But what if she did what Joe asked, then wouldn’t Dulcie be in danger? A huge amount of danger?

  Teagan rose from the bench, her legs unwilling to hold her upright.

  Joe grasped the hem of Teagan’s jumper. ‘Where are you going? You can’t leave! You’ve got to sort this, Teag.’

  Teagan willed her brain to work. It felt stuck – jammed.

  Joe’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t forget I’ve only been dragged into this because of you!’

  ‘I need to think about this,’ Teagan interrupted. It may be true that Joe was only involved because they’d seen him at the house talking to her, but apart from working somewhere they believed a bunch of their stolen cash or whatever it was, was being hidden, she had nothing to do with this either.

  She hadn’t stolen a thing and neither would Dulcie have either. It was ridiculous. Dulcie said that Peter, her husband, had tried to get involved with shady people, but that was back in the 60s, not now. Not recently. But like Helen said, Dulcie spoke rubbish and didn’t know what she was saying half the time.

  But what about Robert? He was shifty and what about that day when he was rooting through the cupboards when he’d thought no one was in? Could this be something to do with him?

  ‘There isn’t time to think,’ Joe wailed, his eyes wide. ‘Do you not realise how serious this is?’

  ‘Yes, I’m well aware of that, but I still need to think.’ Teagan brushed her hair away from her face. ‘I’ll call you, ok?’

  Joe stood up, pacing around in agitation. ‘When? How long are you going to make me wait? Is this your way of making me fucking suffer? Because if it is, then you’re doing a good job.’

  Stepping back, Teagan slung her handbag over her shoulder, amazed she could still manage it, her hands were shaking so much. She handed Joe back his newspaper. ‘Just give me a day or so to work out what to do.’