by Carys Jones
Amanda tilted her head away from his green eyes, needing to focus. Most jobs she did for Turtle82 didn’t last longer than a few days. But she knew she had to be generous in her estimations. ‘Um, a week. Two at most, I reckon.’
‘Two weeks. Got it.’ Shane nodded.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
‘I’m sure,’ he pulled her towards him and softly kissed her forehead. ‘When it comes to you, I’m always sure.’
*
‘Vegas?’ Corrine looked like she was somewhere between appalled and delighted as she repeated the destination Amanda was using as her cover for the next two weeks.
Two hours back at her house and on the darknet had placed her and Shane on the next Vegas-bound flight out of Heathrow. With some digital wizardry, she’d have them both checked through customs in just over eighteen hours and then checked into Caesar’s Palace at the Las Vegas strip. For fourteen nights.
Amanda had chosen the location for their cover carefully. She needed somewhere busy. Somewhere they wouldn’t stand out, where, if questioned, people would just assume they’d seen them since there was an abundance of tourists. And in a place like Vegas it was commonplace for people not to return to their rooms at night. They were too busy gambling or taking in a show or just being overwhelmed by the spectacle of it all.
‘Vegas?’ Corrine stared at her daughter, her mouth agape.
Amanda knew what her mother was picturing – an Elvis impersonator at some tacky little chapel.
‘Shane and I just need to go somewhere and relax. Then when I’m back I’ll sort out moving Ewan into my place and enrolling him into school.’
‘Vegas?’ Corrine’s eyes were side as she imagined showgirls, strippers and shotgun weddings. ‘Are you and Shane?’ she pursed her purple lips together.
‘Friends in need of a holiday? Definitely,’ Amanda smiled falsely. The lie tasted sour upon her tongue as she told it. She wished she could be honest with her mother but the truth was too dangerous. It was better to have her mother believe she was lounging on a sunbed beside some turquoise swimming pool surrounded by faux-Roman columns.
‘Is this…’ Corrine clasped Amanda’s hands between her own from where she was sat across from her at the small kitchen table. Yellow sunlight flooded the room, exposing every speck of dust which had skilfully avoided the depths of the hoover. ‘Is this what you need to do to help you grieve?’
‘Yes.’ That was no lie. Amanda did need to get revenge on McAllister in order to grieve. In order to get closure. To heal.
‘Then I support you.’ Corrine leaned back in her chair, releasing her daughter from her grasp. ‘I’ll take care of Ewan, you don’t need to worry about him. Two weeks you said, right?’
‘Right.’
Amanda told herself that if McAllister’s men hadn’t come yet then hopefully they wouldn’t come at all. She needed to believe Ewan was safe else she’d never leave, never put an end to the ever present threat of McAllister. And she couldn’t take him with her. He had to stay.
‘That’s a lot of Happy Meals.’
‘And think how many times you’ll get to watch Toy Story,’ Amanda teased.
‘He’s a sweet boy,’ Corrine commented tenderly. ‘And you’re an even sweeter girl for taking him in so readily. Regardless of, you know, the implications.’
‘Well, the legality of it all isn’t really an issue at this point,’ Amanda shrugged modestly, almost admiring her mother’s ability to subdue a compliment with concern. Corrine only knew half the story and Amanda was determined to keep it that way. She was just doing what was right. What anybody else would have done.
‘This morning Ewan said something strange.’ Corrine wound her fingers together, looking thoughtful.
‘He did?’ Amanda sucked in her cheeks, suddenly feeling tense.
‘We were walking down towards the beach and he said he spotted one of his mother’s friends. But it was just Mrs Porter from down the end of the lane.’
‘Oh,’ relief shuddered through Amanda.
‘It just struck me as odd,’ Corrine continued. ‘I mean,’ she tilted her head and let her eyes bore into her daughter, ‘is anyone looking for him, Amanda?’
‘No!’ Her chest tightened and the word came out much sharper than Amanda intended. She saw her mother flinch and lean back. ‘I mean, of course not. He doesn’t have anybody. Me and Shane, we’re all he’s got.’
Her heart was manic in her chest.
It was just Mrs Porter.
The old woman was almost as permanent a fixture in their neighbourhood as the imposing cliffs which snaked their way down the coastline.
But what if it wasn’t? What if someone was looking for Ewan? And not just someone – McAllister. She felt more resolute than ever to take matters into her own hands.
‘The way Shane has stood by you through all of this,’ Corrine gave a wistful sigh and pressed both hands against her chest. ‘He’s always been a good egg that one, don’t you think?’
‘Uh-huh.’ Amanda tried to sound flippant. She didn’t have the energy to listen to her mother belt out one of her team Shane ballads.
‘He still loves you, you know. I see it every time he looks at you, clear as day.’
Amanda’s cheeks began to burn.
‘The flame between you two never went out,’ Corrine continued. ‘It just needs the right spark to reignite it.’
4
It was raining when they arrived in Glasgow. A soft, light rain that silently soaked Shane’s car as he navigated the busy streets. Amanda peered out of her windows at the bustling city centre. Brightly coloured storefronts broke up the gloom of a wet afternoon.
‘We’re almost there.’ Shane nodded deferentially at the satnav perched on his dashboard.
‘So we are.’
Amanda had selected a hotel in the heart of the city, amongst all the shops and restaurants. It would be teeming with tourists. It would provide the perfect cover for her and Shane – a place where they could be at the pulsing centre of all of Glasgow’s activity but still hidden in plain sight.
Stay central.
That had been the single piece of advice Turtle82 had given Amanda when she queried where she should stay. She’d considered booking an isolated cabin out in the Highlands, but that felt too close to where Will had stayed. Where she’d found him. And the Internet connection in such remote places would be dire at best.
Shane swung the car round a sharp turn, down into the depths of their hotel’s underground parking system. The grey light of day quickly slipped away, replaced by the murky yellow glow of the overhanging strip lights which stretched across row upon row of parked cars.
‘Are you sure you’re ready for this?’ Shane asked after he’d slid the car into an empty bay and killed the engine. The silence around them pressed against the windows. Amanda leaned forward to turn off the satnav, noticing the shadows which gathered in the corners of the car park where the lights failed to reach, each one potentially pregnant with danger.
‘I’m sure,’ Amanda swallowed down her fear. ‘This is where I have to be. From here I can use the Internet and search the city for McAllister.’
‘And if he finds us first?’
Ignoring the question, Amanda opened her door and climbed out of the car. Cold air greeted her, wrapping itself around her like an icy cloak. She shivered, dressed in just jeans and a baggy white T-shirt.
‘Jeeze,’ Shane rubbed at his arms as he got out too. ‘I wish we really were in Vegas,’ he declared as he slammed his door shut.
‘It’ll warm up once the rain stops.’
‘I hope so.’
As Shane unloaded their suitcases from the boot, Amanda looked around at all the gathered cars, at all the dark corners. Was McAllister lying in wait somewhere, looking for her as keenly as she was looking for him?
*
The hotel room contained just one bed. Amanda was through the door, attracted by the impressive view of the city the window
offered, completely oblivious of the solitary sleeping space.
Shane remained in the doorway and cleared his throat.
‘You okay?’ Amanda turned back to face him.
‘Um…’ he gestured at the bed and raised his eyebrows. ‘I think the hotel must have made a mistake with the booking. I’ll go back down and ask for a room with twin beds and—’
‘No.’ Amanda raised her palm towards him, urging him not to leave.
‘But there’s just the one bed.’
‘If we go down, if we make a fuss, we become memorable. We need to remain as incognito as possible, remember?’
‘I’m not sure I want to sleep in a chair for the next two weeks.’ Shane placed their cases on the bed and crossed his arms against his chest. ‘Let me at least request a foldaway bed or something.’
‘We can share.’ Amanda turned her back on him to once again look out at the city. It stretched away from her, a sprawling maze of streets and skyscrapers. This was Will’s city. His home. How many of these streets had he walked down? The buildings that rose up in the distance, almost obscured by the drizzle that misted the air, was one of those the block of flats where Will had lived? Where Evangeline had lived? What had become of their home? The police had surely moved on. Was the flat empty? Did it have new occupants? So easily a life could be erased, forgotten.
‘Share?’
In the window, Amanda saw Shane’s startled reflection.
‘Yes, share.’ She gave him a warm smile as she drifted over towards the bed and sat down upon its crisp white sheets. ‘It’s a big bed, Shane. There’s more than enough room for us both.’
And I don’t want to sleep alone.
She didn’t share this last part of her rationale with him. Since losing Will, she’d yet to sleep alone. Her mother had been beside her each night, there when she woke up from a darkened dream to comfort her. Amanda wasn’t sure she was ready to wake up to an empty bed. Not yet.
‘I’ll… um,’ Shane was pulling back the sheets on the other side of the bed, assessing the space available. ‘I can put a pillow in the middle to act as a divider.’
‘Okay, sure.’
‘And you’re sure you’re okay being here? Because just say the word and we could actually be in Vegas. You don’t have to do this, you know.’
Amanda thought of the little boy back at her mother’s, of his head full of dark hair which he’d inherited from his father, of his bright blue eyes that were all that remained of his mother. Ewan was probably sat with Corrine on the sofa, enjoying another viewing of Toy Story whilst they ate fish and chips out of newspaper baskets.
‘No,’ she hoped that Shane could see the strength in her gaze. The resolve. ‘I do.’
*
‘What’s the plan?’ Shane asked as they stepped out of the lift and into the lobby. Amanda remained at his side to ensure that to the outside world they looked like any other couple enjoying a city break. He might as well have asked her about the weather. The plan was a tenuous thing, subject to change at a moment’s notice, at the whim of forces beyond their control.
‘We need to just get a feel of the city.’ Amanda wore a shoulder bag, into which her beloved laptop was stowed. ‘Walk around a bit, get a sense of the place. Maybe sit somewhere and have coffee.’
‘Use their Wi-Fi, anonymously hack social media accounts in the area to search for leads.’ Shane’s voice was soft and he almost sung the words.
‘Okay, fine.’ Amanda strode ahead of him, pushing her way through the revolving glass doors which led outside. ‘But unless you have a better plan for how we can get some intel, I’m going with mine.’
The rain had stopped and the sun had managed to punctuate part of the cloud cover, allowing golden beams of light to thread their way down into the city. The air smelt of damp earth and asphalt.
‘I’m kind of at the mercy of whatever you decide to do.’ Shane walked alongside her, his hands deep in his pockets. His shoulders were high and his chin was bowed towards his chest. He looked awkward, like he didn’t really want to be there. In contrast, Amanda was doing her best to walk with light, buoyant steps, her hair swaying upon her back as though she didn’t have a care in the world.
‘I thought you came here to help, not just spectate.’
She heard Shane sigh loudly as he contemplated this. ‘It’s just that my hands are tied. I can’t risk doing anything that will cost me my job.’
‘And you won’t, since you’re in Vegas, remember?’
‘People are going to talk. You do realise that, don’t you? Back home, no one knows what happened to Will. They’ll just think that you and I have eloped on some romantic getaway.’
‘Let people think what they want.’
‘You don’t care what they say?’
‘When have I ever cared what people say about me?’ Amanda asked as she stopped in front of a Starbucks. Inside, it was moderately busy but she noticed that several tables were empty, including one in a booth at the back of the café which would be a perfect spot for them to set up to conduct a bit of cyber-stalking.
‘I always admired that about you,’ Shane commented as he followed her inside. ‘The only time you ever cared was when…’ his voice trailed off and he nervously cleared his throat. Amanda knew what he was about to say.
The only time you ever cared was when people were speaking badly about your dad.
People being Jayne, Shane’s ex-girlfriend and Amanda’s former classmate, and others like her. Amanda could take every insult thrown at her on the chin, but she’d defend the people she loved until her last breath. Her father had been a hero in every sense of the word, she’d gladly risk the fires of hell to pull apart anyone who would dare to suggest otherwise.
The café was noisy and carried the intoxicating scent of coffee beans mixed with something softer, sweeter, like vanilla. The drinks machines hissed and gurgled as the baristas diligently prepared fresh orders. Amanda told Shane that she’d have a coffee. Black. Then she went to procure her coveted table while he waited in line. From behind her laptop she watched him waiting patiently in the queue, saw him massage his neck a couple of times when he wasn’t thrusting his hands into his pockets. He was nervous. But no one else would see that. No one else knew Shane inside out like she did.
She connected to the local Wi-Fi and then started to work her magic. Scanning through nearby social media accounts was easy for a seasoned hacker like Amanda. The skills she’d learnt as a teenager were still sharp in her mind. She ran a number of searches for keywords. Some were more obvious than others—
Gregg
McAllister
Drugs
Jake Burton
Her laptop hummed against the dark wood table as it went to work.
‘One coffee, black.’ Shane placed down her drink and then slid into the booth beside her. He dropped a cursory glance at her computer screen. ‘Are you sure it’s safe to do that here?’
‘Safe as houses,’ Amanda absently reached for her drink and took a small sip. ‘We’ll be long gone before anyone could even get a bit suspicious. Look around, there’s too many people using the Wi-Fi to be able to pinpoint one user and their activity.’
At every table there was someone either using their phone or laptop, heads bent, engrossed by whatever they were reading or typing. They were all connected by an invisible web which ran between tables, wrapped around their ankles, wrists, hearts and bound them all together.
‘I was thinking,’ Shane leaned back against his cushioned seat, drink in hand. ‘We should check the latest police reports, things in the press. Look for stories about people being arrested on drunk and disorderly charges.’
‘Not drug possession?’
‘No, that’s too obvious. A guy like McAllister would surely have the police and the press in his pocket to some extent. When business goes sour, he’ll pin it on something else, probably drink.’
‘Okay,’ Amanda updated her searches.
Their drinks were l
ukewarm and only half consumed when her laptop pinged.
‘Find anything?’ Shane leaned forward with interest. Amanda caught a blast of the cologne he was wearing. It smelt stronger than it had in the car, the notes of cedar and lime more pronounced. Had he topped it up before they’d left the hotel?
Of course he had, he’s making an effort to blend in.
Amanda pushed her hands through her hair, removing her questions about Shane’s scent from her mind. She focused on her computer screen. There were a number of search results for her to look at. They were mainly news stories, a couple of Facebook posts. And they all related to the same thing – the Glasgow nightlife scene.
In the past week alone there had been five drink-related arrests. All upon one particular street that ran through the city centre like a scar. Amanda ran a search on all the clubs there.
Moxxi’s was, by the looks of it, a high-end strip club. After Hours was a popular nightclub that played trance and house music. Hooked was also a popular nightspot which had live bands every Thursday and an R & B night on a Sunday. Rumours looked like a hybrid between strip club and dance venue. All of the clubs were within a half-mile radius of one another.
‘So, I guess we need to start looking in these places,’ Amanda tapped at the list of venues on her screen.
‘Hmm.’ Shane didn’t sound impressed.
‘What?’
‘Somewhere like this,’ he nodded at the surrounding tables, ‘we can blend in no problem. The hotel, that’s easy too. But a nightclub,’ raising his eyebrows, he paused for effect. ‘I mean, come on, when was the last time you went clubbing?’
‘I…’ the word never almost tumbled from her lips. Amanda had never really been the clubbing kind, unless you counted the Student Union back when she was at university. But even then she went to drink shots and play pool. She’d never danced beneath strobe lights, never sashayed across a sticky floor.
