One Night: Unveiled

by Jodi Ellen Malpas

  Just before leaving Nan and George, I receive a text message from an unknown number, advising me that my car awaits when I’m ready to go home. But I’m not ready to go home, and I also know that Ted will have had strict orders from William to take me nowhere else. I also know that no amount of sweet talk or smiles will convince William’s driver to do otherwise.

  ‘Baby girl!’

  I swivel on my Converse and virtually squeal when I see Gregory jogging towards me, the familiarity of my best friend in his grubby combats and tight T-shirt eliminating every tortured thought currently plaguing my mind.

  He seizes me and swings me around, prompting another high-pitched squeal. ‘God, it’s so good to see you.’

  ‘And you.’ I cling to him tightly and let him squeeze me happy. ‘Are you going to see Nan?’

  ‘Yeah, have you been?’

  ‘I left her with George. She might be allowed home tomorrow.’

  Gregory detaches me from his body and holds me in place by the tops of my arms. Then he narrows guarded eyes on me. I don’t know why. I haven’t said or done anything to be suspicious of. ‘What’s up?’ he asks.

  ‘Nothing.’ I immediately chastise myself for avoiding his eyes.

  ‘Of course,’ he retorts sarcastically. ‘Because watching you run away and then having the pleasure of a few heavies ram-raid Miller’s flat was all a figment of my imagination. You’ve got nothing to be worried about.’

  ‘Heavies?’ I home right in on Gregory’s reference to what Miller prefers to call the immoral bastards.

  ‘Yeah, quite an experience.’ He takes my hand and links it through his bent arm as he starts to lead me towards the exit.

  ‘You never mentioned anything on the phone all of the times we spoke.’

  ‘Livy, whenever we’ve spoken since you disappeared to New York, it’s been mindless chitchat. Don’t pretend you wanted it any other way.’

  I can’t argue with him, so I don’t. I had no interest in hearing what went down once Miller and I had left, and still, deep down, I don’t, yet the mention of heavies is piquing my curiosity.

  ‘Mean-looking sons of bitches.’ Gregory only heightens that curiosity, along with adding a mountain of trepidation, too. ‘Your man William – master of the frigging drug world – handled them like they were kittens. He didn’t even break into a sweat when one tapped the holster of a gun. A fucking gun!’

  ‘A gun?’ I gasp, my heart jumping into my throat.

  Gregory takes a cautious look around us, then diverts us down another corridor, out of the earshot of other hospital visitors. ‘You heard me. Who are these people, Livy?’

  I retreat a few steps back. ‘I don’t know.’ I can’t feel guilty for lying. I’m too worried.

  ‘Well I do.’

  ‘You do?’ My eyes are wide and I’m frightened. William surely hasn’t told Gregory. Please say he hasn’t told Gregory!

  ‘Yes.’ He comes in closer and has a quick peek each way to check our privacy. ‘Drug dealers. Miller works for the heavies, and I bet he’s in all kinds of shit now.’

  I’m horrified. I’m stunned. I’m not sure whether letting Gregory believe Miller’s involved with drug dealers is better than the truth. Gregory has one thing right, though. Miller does work for the heavies. ‘Right,’ I breathe, desperately searching for something else to say and finding nothing, but it’s fine because Gregory continues before my silence is noticed.

  ‘Olivia, not only is your man a psychotic, OCD-suffering, ex-homeless, ex-hooker/escort, but he’s also a drug dealer!’

  My back falls against the wall and I look up to the harsh lighting, not even blinking back the powerful light when it burns my retinas. I’m banking on it burning away my troubles, too. ‘Miller isn’t a drug dealer,’ I say calmly. It would be so easy to fly off the handle right now.

  ‘And that Sophia bird, I haven’t figured out who she is yet, but she can’t be good news. I mean –’ he laughs – ‘kidnap?’

  ‘She’s in love with Miller.’

  ‘And poor Nan,’ Gregory goes on. ‘She welcomed William to her dinner table like they were old friends.’

  ‘They are.’ I reluctantly acknowledge that I should perhaps find out how friendly they are, but I’m also mindful that Nan is delicate, and stirring up old ghosts would be stupid. I drop my head on a sigh, not that he notices. Gregory is well into his stride, keen to get his conclusions out there.

  ‘He was there every day when you were . . .’ He finally pulls up, his neck recoiling on his wide shoulders. ‘They are?’

  ‘He knew my mother.’ I know those words will begin an outburst of questioning, so I hold my hand up when he draws breath. ‘Miller does work for those people and they won’t let him quit. He’s trying to find a way.’

  He’s scowling. ‘What’s that got to do with the Godfather?’

  I can’t help but smile at his quip. ‘He was my mother’s pimp. He and Miller’s boss don’t get along. He’s trying to help.’

  He can’t hide his wide eyes. They’re like saucers. ‘Fuuuuuck . . .’

  ‘I’m tired, Gregory. I’m tired of feeling so frustrated and helpless. You’re my friend, and I’m asking you not to enhance it.’ I sigh, all of those feelings magnifying anyway, simply because of my own admission. ‘I need you to be my friend. Please, just be my friend.’

  ‘Well, damn,’ he murmurs, dropping his head in shame. ‘Now I just feel like a hundred tonnes of first-class shit.’

  I want to ease his obvious guilt, tell him he doesn’t need to as long as he quits right here, yet the strength to do that is nowhere to be found. I push my back from the wall and drag myself towards the exit. I might be highly pissed off at Miller, yet I also know he’s the only one who can comfort me.

  A tentative palm slides onto my shoulder and his legs match my pace. But he says nothing, probably too scared to send me further into despondency. I look up at my best friend as he pulls me a little closer, but he remains focused forward. ‘Aren’t you going to see Nan?’

  He shakes his head with a rueful smile. ‘I’ll Skype her on that fancy television. She gets all excited.’

  ‘It has Internet?’

  ‘And a phone, but she likes seeing me.’

  ‘Nan’s been using the Internet?’

  ‘Yep. A lot. William’s been constantly topping up her credit. Must have cost him a fortune in the past few days. She’s hooked.’

  I laugh. ‘How’s Ben?’

  ‘We’re getting there.’

  I smile, delighted by this news. It can mean only one thing. ‘I’m glad. Have you got your van?’

  ‘Yes. You want me to take you somewhere?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’ I smile and snuggle deeper into his chest. I’m not going with Ted. ‘Can we go to the bistro, please?’

  Chapter 9

  Gregory’s phone starts ringing as he pulls up around the corner from the bistro, and he lifts his arse from his seat to rummage through the pocket of his trousers as I open the door.

  ‘I’ll call you later,’ I say, leaning across to peck his cheek. He frowns down at the display. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Hold up.’ He signals for me to wait a moment by holding up one finger as he answers. ‘Hello.’ Relaxing back in my seat, my hand resting on the handle of the open door, I watch as he listens intently for a few seconds. Then he seems to shrink into his seat. ‘She’s with me.’

  I cringe, wince, and grit my teeth all at once, then instinctively dive from the van and shut the door, my feet working fast to carry me across the road. I should have anticipated a search party after leaving Ted waiting for me at the hospital and ignoring numerous calls from Miller and William.

  ‘Olivia!’ Gregory shouts.

  I pivot when I’m safely on the other side of the road, seeing him shaking his head at me. I shrug guiltily, but only because I neglected to advise Gregory that Ted was waiting for me under William’s instruction. I didn’t intentionally drag him into the centre of locking
horns.

  Raising my hand in a little wave, I turn my back on my friend and slip down a side street that’ll take me to the bistro. But I’m cringing all over again when my fancy iPhone starts chiming “I’m Sexy and I Know It” from my satchel. ‘Damn,’ I mutter, pulling it out, howling on the inside at my choice of ringtone for my best friend.

  ‘Gregory,’ I say, maintaining my determined stride.

  ‘You devious sod!’

  I laugh and check the traffic before crossing the road. ‘I’m not devious. I just didn’t tell you I had a driver for the day.’

  ‘Damn it, Olivia! William isn’t happy, and I’ve just had Mr Screw-Loose call me, too.’

  ‘Miller?’ I don’t know why I asked. Who else could Mr Screw-Loose be?

  ‘Yes. Jesus, baby girl! When did being your friend become a hazardous job? I fear for my spine, my bones . . . my fucking pretty face!’

  ‘Chill out, Gregory.’ I jump when a car horn honks at me and put my hand up in apology as I make it to the pavement. ‘I’ll check in with them both now.’

  ‘Make sure you do,’ he grunts.

  This is ridiculous, and I’m now weighing up the lesser of two evils. My self-inflicted solitary life was a little stifling but far easier to deal with, as it was me, myself, and I who controlled the reins. No one else. I feel like Miller awakened me, set me free, just like he’s said, yet now he’s trying to take away that sense of freedom, and I’m beginning to resent him for it. Gregory’s supposed to be on my side. I’ll be damned if they’re dragging my best friend over to the dark side. ‘Whose friend are you?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘You heard me. Whose friend are you? Or have you and William become bosom buddies since I’ve been away?’

  ‘Funny, baby girl. Very funny.’

  ‘I’m not trying to be funny. Answer the question.’

  There’s a brief pause followed by a long pull of breath. ‘Yours,’ he says as he exhales.

  ‘I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.’ I frown as I hang up on Gregory, then check left and right before I cross the road to the bistro. My steps are light across the tarmac, almost skipping as I come closer to my place of work. I’m smiling, too.

  ‘Olivia!’

  The bellow, laced with dread, has me stopping in the middle of the road and swinging around. I hear car horns and more shouts of horror.

  ‘Olivia! Move!’

  I’m confused, looking around frantically, trying to figure out where and what the commotion is. It’s then I see a black four-wheel drive coming at me. Fast. My mind is giving me all of the right instructions.

  Move!

  Run!

  Get out of the way!

  But my body is ignoring each and every one of them. They’re in shock. I’m frozen. A sitting target.

  All of the sound around me is drowned out by the repeated demands in my mind. The only thing I’m focused on is that car coming closer and closer and closer.

  The screeching of tyres is what finally yanks me from my trance, then the pounding footsteps on tarmac. I’m rugby-tackled from the side and sent crashing down to the pavement. I’m stunned back to life by the impact, but my landing is soft. I’m disoriented. Confused. Then I’m suddenly moving, but not by my own volition, and I’m soon sitting up with Ted crouching in front of me. Where did he come from? I left him at the hospital.

  ‘You’re gonna get me sacked, girl,’ he says, scanning my face quickly before checking my body for injuries. ‘Fuck’s sake,’ he grumbles, helping me up.

  ‘I’m . . . sorry,’ I stammer over my words, totally shaken, while Ted brushes me down with constant huffs and puffs of irritation. ‘I didn’t see the car.’

  ‘You weren’t supposed to,’ he mutters quietly, but I heard him loud and clear.

  ‘Did someone purposely try to run me down?’ I ask, dazed and motionless before him.

  ‘Maybe a little warning, but let’s not jump to conclusions. Where are you going?’

  I indicate blindly over my shoulder to the bistro across the street, unable to tell him with words.

  ‘I’ll wait here.’ He shakes his head as he pulls his phone from his pocket, giving me serious eyes that dare me to give him the slip again.

  I turn on shaky legs, willing some solidity into them before I present myself to my work friends and they have a chance to suspect something is wrong. But something is very wrong. Someone may have just tried to mow me down, and if I take all of the worry that Miller has expressed in recent days, I can only conclude that the heavies, the immoral bastards, whatever you want to call them, are to blame. They’re sending a message.

  The smell and sounds of the bistro are familiar. It almost makes smiling easy.

  ‘Oh my God! Livy!’ Sylvie dives across the bistro, leaving endless customers with wide eyes as they follow her path to me. I remain where I am for fear of her crashing into the door if I move. ‘It’s so good to see you!’ Her body collides with mine, knocking the wind right out of me.

  ‘Hi,’ I cough, but I’m frowning again when I catch sight of an unfamiliar face behind the counter of the bistro.

  ‘How are you?’ Sylvie steps back, her hands still on my shoulders, her pink lips pursed as she scans my face.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I say, no matter how much I’m not, distracted by the girl behind the counter tackling the coffee machine like she’s been here for years.

  ‘I’m glad,’ Sylvie says, smiling. ‘And Miller?’

  ‘He’s good,’ I confirm, suddenly feeling awkward, my feet shifting nervously. A surprise holiday, that’s what she thinks. After our ups and downs, Miller whisking me off to have some quality time was a perfectly feasible excuse for my sudden absence. Del sounded surprised when I called him to let him know I’d be off for a week, yet he gave me his blessing and told me to have a nice time. Problem is, it’s been more than a week.

  My phone sings from my hand, and I’m again assessing the merits of not having one at all. Concealing the screen from Sylvie’s prying eyes, I silence my phone. It’s either Miller or William, and I still don’t want to talk to either one.

  ‘So how are things here?’ I ask, using the only diversion tactic I have.

  It works. Her shiny black bob swishes when she shakes her head on a tired exhale. ‘Stupidly busy, and Del’s catering for more events than ever.’

  ‘Livy!’ Del appears at the swing door to the kitchen, quickly followed by Paul. ‘When did you get back?’

  ‘Yesterday.’ I smile awkwardly, a little embarrassed that I didn’t let him know. But it was all so sudden, and Nan consumed my mind from the moment Miller told me about her heart attack. Everything else was so inconsequential, including my job. Now that I’m here, though, I can’t wait to get started again, once I ensure Nan has fully recovered.

  ‘It’s great to see you, darling.’ Paul winks before returning to the kitchen, leaving Del wiping his hands on a tea towel. He casts a sideways glace to the girl, who’s now handing a coffee to a waiting customer, then looks back at me with an embarrassed smile. I feel self-conscious all of a sudden – uncomfortable and out of place. ‘I didn’t know when you’d be back,’ he starts. ‘And we were run off our feet. Rose here inquired about vacancies and she fell right into it.’

  My heart sinks into my Converse. I’ve been replaced, and by the look on Del’s guilty face and the sound of his sorry voice, he doesn’t plan on reinstating me. ‘Of course.’ I smile, feigning indifference to within an inch of my life. I can’t blame him. I was hardly reliable in the weeks running up to my disappearance. As I watch Rose load the filter contraption of the coffee machine, an unreasonable sense of possessiveness seeps into me. The fact that she is performing the task with ease and with one hand when she reaches to grab a cloth isn’t helping. I’ve been replaced, and worst of all, I’ve been replaced by someone more competent. I’m injured, and I’m exhausting every modicum of strength not to let it show.

  ‘It’s fine, Del. Honestly. I never expected you to keep my j
ob open for me. I didn’t think I would be gone for so long.’ Looking down at the phone in my hand, I see Miller’s name flashing up at me but I ignore it, forcing my smile to remain fixed on my face. ‘Anyway, Nan’s being released from the hospital tomorrow, so I need to be at home to take care of her.’ It’s ironic. All that time I used Nan as an excuse to keep me away from the big wide world so I could look after her, and now she really does need my help. And I really want to be in the big wide world. I feel untold guilt for allowing a little resentment to simmer deep within me. I’m beginning to resent everyone and everything. The people who are giving me freedom are the people snatching it away from me.

  ‘Your grandmother’s ill?’ Sylvie asks, sympathy etched all over her face. ‘You never said.’

  ‘Oh, Livy, honey, I’m so sorry.’ Del moves towards me, but I back away, feeling my emotions taking hold.

  ‘It was just a scare, nothing major. They’re discharging her tomorrow or Friday.’

  ‘Oh, that’s good. You take care of her.’

  I smile as Sylvie rubs my arm. All of this empathy is unbearable. I need to escape. ‘I’ll see you,’ I say, throwing a little wave to Del as I back out of the bistro.

  ‘Make sure you keep in touch,’ my ex-boss calls before returning to the kitchen and resuming business as usual – business as usual that doesn’t include me anymore.

  ‘Take care, Livy.’ Sylvie looks guilty. She shouldn’t. This isn’t her fault, and in an attempt to ease it for her, to make her see I’m cool, I paste a huge smile on my face as I curtsy.

  She laughs, turns on her biker boots, and sashays back to the counter, leaving me to shut the door on my old job and the people I became so fond of. My feet are heavy as they carry me across the pavement, and when I finally look up, I see a waiting car and Ted holding the back door open. I slide in without a word, the door shuts, and Ted’s up front in no time, pulling into the afternoon London traffic. My low mood is obvious, as expected, yet I seem to have a taste for lowering it further.