Jamie loses focus on the e-mail as he remembers the evening. It had been good.
The events turn hazily through his mind. Kissing on the balcony. Hands exploring. The red dress slipping lower. Isobel’s head falling backwards as he kisses down her neck. Kissing against the mirrored wall of the hotel lift. A dozen reflected versions of themselves doing the same. Then finally, in the room, pushing the red dress to the floor. The hunter and the hunted.
Isobel was ambitious, confident and keen - he could tell that by what happened next. It’s true, he had noticed her around the office a few times. She had worked on the interiors team.
The memory made him grin as he regained focus on the e-mail.
I’ll come and see you later.
Isobel xxx
This certainly couldn’t happen. He couldn’t be having a relationship with someone on the team. He was leaving.
Jamie would have to make that clear.
He didn’t have to wait long.
“So, this is where you’re hiding?” A voice from the door of his office, sharp, demanding. Isobel.
Jamie looks up from the redesign of the council offices in Brentwood he’s working on. If he smiles, it’s nerves. Gone is the softness of the alcohol and the evening. The red hair which had flowed across his pillow is now pinned aggressively high.
“Saturday was good. We totally need to talk about when it’ll happen again.”
She moves forwards, puts her hands on the desk and leans towards Jamie as though expecting him to kiss her. He doesn’t. Although he does get a view down her top.
Jamie considers his words carefully. In the silence he hears noise from the outside office. Indistinct conversations, the rattle of keyboards. Somewhere a kettle nears its boiling point.
“Yeah, Saturday was… nice. It was nice. But, yeah, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression… We’d both had a lot to drink.”
Jamie’s computer pings, he ignores it, keeping eye contact. Damage limitation.
Isobel steps back as though breathless.
“But those things…” Isobel says.
Jamie tries to push the memories from his mind. The red dress falling to the floor.
“The things you said…”
The kettle continues to boil unnoticed.
Did he say anything that could have given her the wrong idea? Jamie can’t remember. He thinks better than pointing that out.
“We were so close!” Isobel says bitterly.
Jamie suppresses an unexpected smirk and closes the conversation down.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I was really drunk - it was great fun though… thanks.”
Was the ‘thanks’ too far?
Isobel’s complexion reddens. Her eyes swell. Jaw locked and eyebrows tense.
“I definitely shouldn’t have bothered – fuck you!” she hisses, turns and walks from the office.
The mail received tone sounds from Jamie’s computer again, but he isn’t looking. He’s watching Isobel, her ass wiggling from the room.
She did look good naked.
On the screen an e-mail from his colleague in the next office waits.
You’re a dickhead, Jamie! ;)
The lights thump to life; time for the five hundred or so men on Jamie’s wing to get up. Even though it’s barely light outside, Jamie doesn’t mind getting up. It makes a change from staring at the ceiling alone with his thoughts. He hasn’t slept properly in weeks. This nightmare has no escape.
Chapter 5
Allissa tried to resist the urge to giggle as she tiptoed up behind Leo. It was hilarious how jumpy he got. It was especially hilarious a few months ago. The idea that he stayed in a hotel for a week because he was too scared to go home cracked her up. I mean, the guy was in prison, what was he going to do from there?
“If they were going to do anything, they would have done it in Kathmandu,” she’d said. “Everyone’s got eyes on him now and he knows it. He won’t be able to get near you, or get anyone to.”
After the sentencing, she thought Leo’s anxiety about it would probably stop. For the benefit of her own amusement, if nothing else, it hadn’t.
It had been strange for Allissa to watch Blake Stockwell receive his sentence. They had been there, Leo and her, in the court that day. It was strange because, despite what he had done to her, her mother and to other people, he was still her father. She still had memories of his kindness. Sometimes he had even been a good father. Loving and attentive. The man she watched receiving his sentence in court that day didn’t seem like him at all.
Allissa knew this was justice. He had – whether in sound mind or not (a defence his lawyer had suggested but had been quickly rejected) – tried to have her and Leo killed in Kathmandu. He had bribed immigration officials to keep her mother from entering the country, forcefully separated their family, and ultimately, conspired to have her murdered. There was a whole file of other bribery, extortion and conspiratorial claims going back decades which lawyers were still trying to understand.
But as Allissa had watched him that day – looking slimmer, tired and older than the man he had been before she went away – she could only remember the happy times. How they’d played on the giant rug in the family room on a Saturday afternoon when she was little. Long walks through fields and woods; his knowledge of wildlife had always been excellent. The feeling of coming back home from university, knowing he’d be there to talk about her studies and her life.
That man was gone now.
The shrivelled, pink-faced man whose clothes hung from him didn’t look like her father at all.
So, creeping up behind Leo in the front room, it was funny that he’d still jump so much. Approaching the desk, Allissa cowered over him ready to pounce.
Two steps away.
One step away.
“Raaah!” Leo shouted, catching her by surprise and spinning around in his chair. Allissa jumped and squealed, moving just out of the way as he made a grab for her.
“How did you…” Allissa said though the laughter. Then she noticed, stuck to the corner of the computer screen, a small mirror showing a reflection of the room behind him. He’d have seen her all the way.
Leo may be easy to scare but he was always well-prepared. Maybe that’s what made them a good team.
Chapter 6
“…And that should see our pre-tax profits for the quarter increase by over five percent,” drones Mr Beige in front of a screen displaying a graph with an upward curving blue line. From the back-row Jamie stifles a yawn.
Who is this prick trying to impress? Anyone can draw a graph.
It’s a general staff meeting in the big conference room. Thirty or so people. One of the partners discussing some new legislation Jamie doesn’t know or care about. He’s leaving.
Jamie checks his watch again – thirty-five minutes. He’s already considered in detail each of the mass-produced watercolours hanging on the walls of the room. Each inoffensive, but devoid of character and personality. A metaphor for the man who continues to talk from the front perhaps.
“Just to reiterate that, I know you’ve heard it before but…”
Jamie notices Isobel sitting in the front row, listening attentively. Her hair wobbles with each nod of agreement. They haven’t spoken in a week, since the discussion. She’s been working hard to ignore him.
“Thanks for that, Carl,” the Managing Director interrupts before the third repetition.
“Some more good news – it’s an exciting time to work here.” He gets to his feet and faces the assembled staff. “We’re all very lucky to be part of such a dynamic, forward-thinking company…”
Jamie notices Isobel nodding with renewed energy as he tunes out again.
“…but because we are so forward thinking and aspirational for ourselves and each other, members of our family do sometimes leave us for exciting new opportunities. With the confidence and skills they have gained working here…”
He’s not going to… is he… please no…
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Jamie’s suddenly alert, a sickening feeling rising.
“Jamie, who has been working with us for nearly three years now,” the MD says, catching Jamie’s eyes and extending a hand towards him, “will be leaving to take a very exciting opportunity in Hong Kong. It’ll be sad for us to see him go, but Jamie, we wish you the best of luck.”
Heads turn towards him, most contorted into smiles of congratulation.
One unabashed scowl.
Meeting adjourned.
Jamie smiles in thanks and heads for the door. There goes the chances of him sneaking out quietly on his last day.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He knows the owner of the voice before he sees them. He doesn’t reply.
“Well? Didn’t you think I had a right to know?”
Isobel. She stands there, just outside the door to the conference room – as though waiting for him.
“After all that’s happened, you didn’t have an ounce of decency in you to tell me?” Hands on hips, eyes boring into his. They’re green, Jamie notices for the first time.
It’s really none of her business, Jamie thinks, stopping himself from saying it. He doesn’t want to make things more difficult than necessary.
“I bet you think it’s none of my business…”
“Well… I…” Jamie stutters.
“You’re wrong. I have a right to know these things. When were you planning to let me know this little scheme of yours?”
Why does she care? Why is she even talking to me?
“Well I’m telling you now,” Isobel says, “it’s not happening. You can tell everyone you want, whatever you want, but you’re not going.”
Jamie stands in the corridor and watches Isobel walk away, his mind filling with clever and witty responses he’ll never get to say.
Go. Get out of there, Jamie screams at himself from the lumpy bed.
Leave the place and don’t go back. Go now.
But his voice just echoes from the bare brick walls and nothing changes.
Chapter 7
“Thinking you can sneak up on me, huh?” Leo shouted, tickling Allissa who roared with laughter.
“You’re just too easy to…”
“Too easy to what?”
“Alright, alright!” Allissa said stepping out of reach and turning to face him.
Their eyes connected for a moment. Leo felt a flush rising across his cheeks and turned back toward the computer. Drawing a deep breath, he tried to regain focus on the screen.
“What are you doing here?” Allissa asked, moving in close behind him. Leo took another slow breath.
Clearing his throat, Leo explained how he was trying to get things moving between the client and the detective he’d found in Edinburgh. Then neither of them would need to leave Brighton.
“Sounds good,” Allissa said, crossing the room, sitting on the sofa and starting the laptop which sat amid papers on the coffee table.
“I’ll have a sort through some of those e-mails. Still got those invoices to do.”
Leo and Allissa had been working together since returning from Nepal a few months ago. At first, neither were sure about it – the memories of Kathmandu were all too close and shocking – but with the publicity they got through Stockwell’s prosecution, the pair realised how many people needed their help.
So, they’d cleared out the second bedroom in Leo’s flat, bought some new furniture and started living and working together.
Then front room had changed too. Leo had taken down the map around which the leads on his still-missing ex-girlfriend had been displayed. They were still in a file in his room somewhere, but he didn’t need to see them everyday anymore. He’d even stopped the search program which had grown ever more fruitless and random over the three years since she’d disappeared. If they were meant to find each other again, Leo had thought, then they would. He couldn’t spend his whole life looking.
Turning and looking at Allissa, a thought occurred to Leo.
“What are you doing this weekend?”
“Nothing really,” she said, looking up at him, “I said I’d work on that update for the website we’ve needed for a while, re-write a load of the old ‘how-to’ guides.”
Leo nodded. Allissa’s impact on the Missing People International site was significant; she was far better at marketing and design than he was. At least half of the enquiries they now got and the money they made was the result of Allissa’s work.
“You can’t work all weekend. Why don’t you come with me tomorrow?”
“What to your sister’s?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun. I’ve rented a car, we’ll drive down, have a few drinks, stay the night then come back on Sunday.”
Allissa looked thoughtfully.
“You need some time away from this place,” Leo said.
“You’re asking if I want to come to your sister’s with you?” Allissa said, tilting her head and examining Leo closely.
“Yeah…”
“To get me out of the house?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Just say you want me to come for back-up then,” she said, her dark eyes showing the smile her face was trying to hide.
“Yes, totally,” Leo laughed. “Got it in one.”
“Sure, I’ll come,” Allissa said. “They can’t be as crazy as my family.”
Chapter 8
Friday night. One week to go until Jamie leaves for good.
Flights are booked and the company he’ll be working for have sent him pictures of the apartment. It looks amazing. Ten stories up, floor-to-ceiling windows. A balcony looking out across Kowloon and beyond.
Waiting for the lift down to the office car park, he counts the days he has left. Five working days. It almost feels achievable. He can do this.
Avoiding Isobel for the last couple of weeks hasn’t been easy. He’s had to get in early and stay late each night. People must think it’s a last-ditch attempt to get a good reference, but it’s anything to avoid talking to her again.
Just need to get out.
The lift doors slide open revealing the car park’s smell of damp.
Just get out now.
The office car park is a dank, low-ceilinged basement beneath the building. Most people rely on public transport, so it’s not often used and as such badly maintained. Jamie, having already let his flat, has been driving from his parents’ house in Woking each day.
His footsteps echo as he walks into the darkness. Only half the lights work and the gate to the street is never locked making it a great place for anyone with nowhere better to go. The combined smell of petrol and piss turns his stomach.
Jamie doesn’t see the shape standing near his car until he’s a few steps away. When he does, he doesn’t know what it is. He just knows that it’s not usually there.
“Hello?” he asks the darkness, he’ll look crazy if it’s nothing. “Hello, are you okay?”
It’s probably a drunk sheltering from the rain. Just get in the car.
Hearing the voice, Jamie knows who it is.
“I don’t know how you can do it.”
It’s the voice of nightmares. Isobel.
She moves from the shadow towards his car. Orange light falls violently across her face.
“I just don’t know how you can do it.”
Jamie wants to walk away more than anything. He can’t. She’s standing in front of his car.
“I really don’t know what you mean. I’m just trying to get home.”
Just get in the car and go.
“How can you just walk around here like nothing’s happened, like you haven’t done anything?” Her voice is sharper than usual, shaking, hoarse, desperate.
Jamie rubs the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb.
“I’m sorry if you feel I’ve upset you by not telling you – if you feel I’ve led you on,” Jamie says softly. He needs to talk her away from the car and get going. “You’re a really nice person. It’s just, you know, I’m leaving.
If I wasn’t, I’d definitely want to see you again.”
“You! I wouldn’t want to see you if you were the last person in the world! You make me sick!” Isobel’s shouting now.
She steps forward, towards him.
Jamie looks around, hoping to see someone else come down the stairs. Any distraction to get him past her and into the car.
“What’s the problem then?” he says aggressively. He’s had enough. This girl is crazy. He’ll call in on Monday and just say that he can’t come in. Screw the reference, it’s not worth this.
“Isobel, I’m going to get in my car now and go home.”
The car beeps as he presses the key remote in his pocket.
Walking past her, Jamie pulls the door open.
Don’t look up. Don’t engage with her. Just go home.
Her next comment drops like a bomb. The sort that ruins lives.
“I just don’t remember giving you consent.”
It sounds almost tearful, resentful, believable. It’s clearly not true. She kissed him. She definitely kissed him.
Jamie stares at her. His jaw feels slack. The thud of a passing truck rumbles through the car park.
“You can’t be saying that. That’s completely untrue and you know it!”
Anger builds.
How can she say that? What’s she trying to do?
“I just can’t remember.” She’s sobbing now. The silhouette of her shoulders pulse as she breathes, “I want to remember, Jamie, but I can’t, I can’t… You did this.”
“Don’t say that, Isobel. It’s not true… It’s not true and you know it.”
Tight chested, straight backed, fight or flight.
A light flits into the darkness from the other side of the car park. Isobel’s expression changes. She’s smiling. Smiling through the tears. She fixes Jamie in her gaze. A cat playing with its prey. Lifting her left hand, she holds a folded piece of paper towards him.
“That’s my address,” she says, her voice normal again. All trace of distress is gone. “Come at nine and our secret will stay that way.”
Hong Kong Page 2
