Dark Light

by Jodi Taylor

  ‘My conscience is clear.’

  ‘For how long, I wonder.’

  ‘Until you have him murdered, I suppose.’

  He hadn’t expected me to come straight out with it. His colour was darkening. He was becoming angry. There was disbelief, too. Had he thought this would be easy? I saw him cast a glance over his shoulder. He might have been checking his back-up. There would be some somewhere to handle Michael Jones if they could find him. He took a step closer to me.

  People instinctively keep a polite distance. Most people don’t like their space invaded. I’m no different. I was determined not to step back but having him almost chest to chest with me was not pleasant. His greasy-milk colour was reaching out to touch me. I felt a moment’s genuine panic.

  Inside the house a door opened and closed somewhere, and now he knew I wasn’t alone.

  He stiffened and tried to see over my shoulder. ‘So, you do have him here.’

  I remembered to say, ‘Have who?’

  ‘There’s no point in continuing this pretence, Mrs Cage. I have men around the back of your house and two more over there.’ He pointed across the green to two men, slightly too smart for their surroundings, watching us from the nearest bench. ‘Mr Jones cannot get away.’ He raised his voice. ‘Come out, Mr Jones.’

  Someone put their arms around me from behind and nibbled the back of my neck. I would have jumped a mile but his arms were very strong and warm.

  ‘So,’ murmured Iblis. ‘Who’s this Mr Jones then?’

  I leaned back against him, half for effect and half for support, discovering, too late, that for reasons I looked forward to hearing later, he had taken off his T-shirt and jeans and was standing, mostly naked on my doorstep where everyone could see him. A double-edged weapon indeed. Nerves made my voice tremble, but if everyone wanted to misinterpret the reasons for my sudden loss of control then that was fine with me.

  ‘No one you need concern yourself over.’

  I should imagine it takes a lot to disconcert Sorensen, but he was disconcerted now. I felt quite insulted that he should be so surprised I had a boyfriend. And not just any old boyfriend, but a ripped young man, barefoot and bare-chested, tossing his blond hair, smiling that smile and, apparently, very eager for me to get rid of my unwelcome caller and join him in a little afternoon delight.

  I had to try quite hard not to laugh at the expression on Sorenson’s face.

  ‘Are you going to be long?’ enquired Iblis innocently.

  ‘No,’ I said bluntly, hoping Sorensen would take the hint.

  He didn’t, still standing on my doorstep.

  ‘Do I gather from this visit that you’ve lost Mr Jones again?’

  I smiled. ‘He does tend to get away from you, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Who is this Mr Jones?’ said Iblis again.

  ‘You have lost him, haven’t you? And you thought he was here. Oh, that’s quite funny. Although I wish I’d known that yesterday – I could have saved myself a wasted afternoon. Well, that makes my decision much easier. Thank you for letting me know, but no, Dr Sorensen, I will not be working for you.’

  He stood firm, just waiting for me to finish speaking. ‘Is he here?’

  ‘Is who here?’ said Iblis. ‘What is going on and when are you coming back to bed?’

  Oh, for heaven’s sake. I had a bully on my doorstep, an erratic young man who might be either a help or a hindrance depending on how the mood took him, and Michael Jones, who wasn’t actually present, but managing to complicate my life just the same.

  I turned to Iblis and took a deep breath. ‘Dr Sorensen runs a sinister government establishment just up the road. He detained me against my will last year and a very kind man called Michael Jones helped me escape. I had an enormous row with Mr Jones last Christmas and haven’t seen him since. Dr Sorensen told me he is – was – holding Mr Jones in an effort to force me to work for him, only now he’s saying he thinks he’s here.’

  ‘No,’ said Iblis simply – not a man to overcomplicate issues. ‘I’m here. Waiting for you,’ he added pointedly.

  ‘An enormous row?’ said Dr Sorensen sharply. That was obviously the first he’d heard of it.

  ‘Yes, didn’t he tell you? Well, that was rather naughty. I thought, since he was reporting to you, that he had to tell you everything.’

  His eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘You didn’t tell me either.’

  I used the opportunity to climb onto my high horse. ‘My private life is none of your concern. Anyway, he’s not here so I’ll say good afternoon.’

  ‘Mrs Cage, how stupid do you think I am?’

  ‘Are you sure you actually want me to answer that question? Now, I’ve asked you to go, Sorensen. Don’t make me ask my friend here to shift you.’

  I don’t know why I always seemed able to wind him up. Yes, I gather clues from his colour – for instance, I knew he was bluffing – but I did seem to possess the knack of getting under his skin. And I enjoyed doing it.

  ‘Mrs Cage …’

  Iblis opened the door wider and came out from behind me.

  He was very tall so looming came easily to him. He easily dwarfed the much shorter Sorensen. He was also wearing only a pair of black Calvin Klein underpants, and, I have to say, considerably enhancing my previously quite conventional doorstep. The house on my left contains a small firm of very upmarket solicitors and a good number of them were staring out of their front bay window, mouths slightly open. To my right, Colonel Barton opened his front door and emerged, juggling stick, keys and shopping bags. He stopped dead. I wondered what this was doing to my reputation. He was always civil, however.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Cage.’

  And so was I. ‘Good afternoon, Colonel. How is Mrs Barton today?’

  ‘Very well, thank you.’ He eyed Iblis – two metres of inadequately clothed testosterone standing on my doorstep. ‘I’m … um … just off to do a little shopping.’

  ‘Well,’ I said, smiling like a madwoman and trying to give the impression that this sort of thing was so normal as not to merit comment of any kind. In fact, to do so would be quite rude. ‘That’s nice.’

  ‘Good afternoon, Venerable One,’ said Iblis politely, because he liked the colonel.

  ‘Oh er …hello,’ said the colonel. ‘Nice to see you again. How are you?’

  ‘Well, thank you, and waiting for this irritating man to go away.’

  Actually, I could have kissed him. Colonel Barton, I mean. That one word ‘again’ had effortlessly given the impression Iblis and I were in a long-standing relationship. Which might actually be true, given a very broad understanding of the word ‘relationship’.

  The solicitors’ front door opened and a middle-aged woman appeared. She wore a smart suit and had the air of one who never let life throw little difficulties in her path. ‘Is everything all right here, Mrs Cage? Do you require any assistance?’

  I never before realised what lovely neighbours I had.

  ‘What did you argue about?’ said Sorensen, not one to be deflected from his purpose.

  Well, he did ask. And I wanted to be rid of him. And if he wouldn’t go voluntarily then Iblis would make him and then we’d all be in trouble.

  I took a deep breath and enunciated clearly. ‘We argued about your threats to have him removed from his job unless he colluded in the installation of various listening devices throughout my house.’

  ‘Eh?’ said the colonel to my right. ‘Isn’t that illegal?’

  ‘Yes,’ said the solicitor to my left. ‘Can you prove it?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said looking at Sorensen. ‘Are they still here?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Of course not,’ he said quietly, looking at me in a way I didn’t much care for.

  ‘And neither is Michael Jones, so you can get off my doorstep right now.’

  Beside me, the Calvin Klein-clad Iblis loomed some more. The solicitor stared from her doorstep. The colonel stared from his. O
n the green, heads were beginning to turn, although that might have been mostly due to the semi-naked man standing at my side.

  Sorensen stood for a long time. Long enough for me to wish I’d handled things better. He’d been angry when he arrived – he was furious now. His colour was swirling around him – like over-boiled milk. I’d made him look foolish, which had been fun, but might also have been a big mistake. Nor had I convinced him I knew nothing about the escaping Michael Jones. And I’d revealed I knew about the listening devices. And he now knew about Iblis. He was coming away with much more information than he had arrived with. Yes, I could probably have handled this better.

  I tried for a more conciliatory tone. ‘Dr Sorensen, I don’t know why you’ve come here today. I can assure you that whatever has been going on between you and Mr Jones is nothing to do with me. In fact, as you can see, I’ve rather moved on from Michael Jones. He’s very unreliable, you know. Thank you for the kind offer of employment you made yesterday, but I don’t wish to work for you – as I think you already know. Now, if you’ll excuse me …’

  I went to close the door and he put out his hand up to prevent me. Rather than participate in an unseemly struggle – by which I mean Iblis would probably pitch him down the steps and his security men wouldn’t like that and we’d all be in trouble, I let him.

  He leaned in close and said, with quiet menace, ‘You will regret this.’

  The colonel pulled out his phone. ‘Mrs Cage, would you like me to call the police?’

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ said Sorensen, backing off down the steps. ‘In fact, I might call them myself.’

  ‘Was that a threat?’ said the solicitor sharply, and I loved my neighbours all over again.

  Turning away, he said, almost as an afterthought, ‘As it happens Mrs Cage, my purpose in calling this afternoon was to inform you my offer of employment is no longer open. In fact, I am strongly of the opinion that not only do I not need you – I don’t want you. You no longer have value to me, Mrs Cage, and I shall proceed accordingly.’

  At first, I thought it was just an attempt to save face, but I could see he was telling the truth. Turning on his heel, he marched down the steps.

  I don’t know how it happened – I know I was watching him walk away down the path rather than looking where I was going, but as I turned away, my foot slipped and twisted beneath me. I cried out with pain, because it really hurt, and I would have fallen except that, almost before I knew what was happening, Iblis caught me.

  ‘You should take more water with it, Mrs Cage,’ said the colonel, and I wasn’t sure he was joking. I was beginning to be really fed up with this day.

  ‘What did you do?’ said Iblis, fiercely to Sorensen.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said, backing away, his hands held out in front of him.

  The pain was jagging around my foot and ankle. I just wanted to get inside.

  ‘It’s all right,’ I said to Iblis. ‘Just stupid carelessness on my part.’

  Making a gesture, Sorensen summoned the two men still waiting. One spoke into his lapel so I assumed he was telling the two round the back that they could leave now.

  We watched them depart – under the arch and then out of sight.

  I became aware I’d been holding my breath and my foot was throbbing fit to burst and I felt sick with the pain. I was certain I’d broken something.

  I said something to my neighbours – I can’t remember what, and Iblis carried me inside. He kicked the door shut behind him and deposited me on the sofa where we inspected the damage. Big black bruises were already appearing and my ankle bone had disappeared under the swelling.

  ‘Ice,’ said Iblis.

  ‘Put some clothes on first,’ I said, and he laughed.

  I watched him moving around my little kitchen, tipping ice cubes into a tea towel while I lay back and closed my eyes. Sorensen had given in too easily. I had the feeling he’d just been going through the motions. Had he really thought Jones was here? And what had he said at the end? ‘I no longer need you. Not – I no longer need your services, your talents, your skills, whatever, but I no longer need you.’ And yet, right up until yesterday, he’d been trying everything to get me on board. To the extent of holding and threatening Michael Jones. Something had happened since yesterday.

  ‘Yes,’ said Iblis, laying a cold compress on my foot. ‘We rescued Michael Jones. He no longer has him to bargain with.’

  ‘And yet, he no longer wants to bargain. What’s going on?’

  I closed my eyes again. His reactions hadn’t been right. Something was … off. I closed my eyes to shut out the pain and tried to think.

  The answer came to me suddenly, but with certainty. There was only one reason why he wouldn’t need me any longer.

  He’d got someone else.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Thinking things over, my first reaction was relief. Sorensen could be out of my life forever. This would take the pressure off both me and Jones who might even be able to come back one day. He could go on to live a normal life. And so could I. I could do as I’d done as a child – just tune everything out in the way that normal people tune out the everyday background noises around them and ignore everything else. Surely Sorensen finding someone else was a good thing. I couldn’t understand – why wasn’t I happier?

  The answer came at once. Because if Sorensen had found someone who could do what I could, then I might be in even more danger than before. Suppose this other person saw me as a rival. Suppose they saw me as a threat. Or, suppose Sorensen wanted to make sure he possessed the only one …

  I sat for the rest of the day with my foot up, trying to think through the ramifications. I didn’t feel it was something I could discuss with Iblis who, for some reason, was more concerned with how I came to fall down the steps.

  ‘He must have done something,’ he insisted. ‘No one else was anywhere near you.’

  ‘If he did then I completely missed it.’

  ‘One of his people then.’

  ‘How?’ I enquired, bemused. ‘They were twenty yards away at least.’

  He strode about the room, formulating one daft theory after another. I let it all go over my head until he started talking about anti-gravity rays and hypnotism.

  I told him I didn’t remember anyone swinging a watch in front of my eyes.

  ‘No, no,’ he said excitedly. ‘It’s all done with trigger words, deeply implanted in your subconscious.’

  ‘And when exactly would these trigger words have been implanted in my subconscious?’

  ‘Yesterday,’ he said triumphantly. ‘You were alone with him in his office. He implanted the word …’

  ‘What word?’

  ‘Well it could have been anything, couldn’t it? What was he saying when you fell?’

  I cast my mind back. ‘He said, “Well, as it happens, Mrs Cage, my purpose in calling this afternoon was to inform you my offer of employment is no longer open.”’ And we both waited in case I felt the urge to get to my feet and throw myself down the steps again.

  For the record, I didn’t. He seemed disappointed.

  I sat quietly for the rest of the day and refused to go to the hospital on the grounds that I could wiggle my toes therefore everything was fine. Or would be when the swelling went down. My foot looked as if someone had tried to inflate a rubber glove. Big and circular with little piggy toes on the end.

  Iblis, telling me he’d always known I would need him one day, bustled around the kitchen, preparing jacket potatoes, salad and grilled chicken. It was delicious. I sighed. Another man who could cook.

  My treacherous mind filled with thoughts of the Christmas lunch I’d had with Michael Jones. There had been delicious food and good wine. And then that moment when we had turned a corner and a new path opened up for both of us. I blinked away the tears, because the very next day my world had been turned upside down and I wasn’t sure it was the right way up even now.

  Iblis slept on the sofa that night
. It was rapidly becoming his second home, he said. I ignored that, but I was glad he was staying and said so.

  ‘I told you you’d need me one day,’ he said irritatingly, and asked if I needed to be helped upstairs and even more irritatingly, I did.

  The next day was strange. I didn’t feel quite right. As if there was a gauze curtain between me and the world. Nothing was quite clear. I couldn’t get to grips with anything. It was like trying to grasp fog. I couldn’t even think clearly. My thoughts kept sliding away from me. I felt as if I was waiting for something to happen but nothing did. Nor the next day. Nor the next. I should have been happy. I should have been pleased that Sorensen would no longer be interfering in my life. That I could come and go as I pleased. That threats no longer hung over my head. Yes, I should have been happy and I wasn’t.

  The only feeling I was conscious of was disappointment. I couldn’t help asking myself – was that it? Was it all over? Was it all just going to fizzle out leaving me with nothing?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Iblis stayed with me for a few days while my swollen foot subsided and we waited for any possible repercussions from what he referred to as our little excursion to the Sorensen clinic and its aftermath, but nothing happened. Nothing at all. Sorensen made no attempt to contact me. There was no word from Jones or Jerry. I knew no news was good news, but I was anxious all the same. And to have been put through so much and then have it all fade away and come to nothing just didn’t seem right somehow.

  I mentioned this to Iblis who had taken up his traditional position on the sofa in front of the television, ready to spring into action, he insisted, at a moment’s notice. There was no action, however, and there was certainly no springing. I could sense his restlessness and so one morning, I said to him, ‘Iblis, your service is discharged and I thank you.’

  He opened his mouth to argue and then nodded. ‘I understand, but you haven’t seen the last of me.’

  I smiled at him. ‘I certainly hope not.’

  He nodded. ‘Call me if you need me, but I don’t think you will.’