by Roberta Kray
Jeremy Squires had an office on the second floor of an ugly steel-and-glass construction at the top of the high street. The land had once been occupied by a cinema, but that had been pulled down years ago. Danny could still remember it, though, a plush Odeon with a grand foyer smelling of popcorn, and an auditorium with red velvety seats. He had liked going there as a kid and felt resentful about its demise.
He kept his eyes on the building. For the past half hour, people had been coming out, walking towards the station or the bus stop. He kept looking at the photo on the dashboard, waiting for Squires to appear. He didn’t know for sure that he was there – he might not have even gone to work today – but was working on the laws of probability. He felt lucky, on a high, on a roll. It might have been the gear – it always made him optimistic – but he didn’t see how anything could go wrong.
It was another ten minutes before Danny finally clocked the man he’d been waiting for. ‘Here we go,’ he said triumphantly. He gave Silver’s shoulder a push. ‘There he is. Quick, shift it! Get out, get over there!’
Silver opened the door. ‘Wish me luck.’
‘You don’t need luck, babe. Just go screw him.’
Danny peered through the windscreen as Squires walked across the forecourt and out on to the high street. He was a smartly dressed middle-aged man, carrying a briefcase in one hand and an umbrella in the other. The snow was coming down in thick fast flurries. Silver weaved her way across the road, her white coat blending in with the snow, her red stilettos bright as blood.
‘Come on,’ he muttered as she advanced towards the mark. ‘Take it easy, take it easy…’ For a moment, he thought she was going to blow it. She was almost level with him and still hadn’t made her move. But then she did it – and did it with style. Appearing to slip, she gave a small yelp, skidded and fell at his feet. As Squires crouched down to help, Danny knew that the deal had been sealed.
He watched, grinning with satisfaction, as Silver winced and rubbed her ankle. She was gazing up, giving Squires that little-girl-lost look. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he already knew the script. It wouldn’t be long before Squires offered to help her home… and that’s where the fun would begin.
Danny got out of the car, put the hood up on his jacket and walked quickly towards Silverstone Heights. It was a gated community not far from the station, an estate protected by high walls and iron gates. He knew a guy, a broker in the City, who had a place there. The two of them had a nice little deal going: Danny kept him well supplied with coke, and in return he had use of the flat whenever he needed it.
He slowed down as he approached the gates, knowing that he was already well ahead. Silver would limp her way back to the Heights, clinging on to Squires’s arm, thanking him, flattering him, saying he was a gentleman. She would ask him in for coffee and he would accept. Of course he would accept. He would make the discreet call to the wife, the excuse for being late – an emergency or a meeting or a client who had turned up out of the blue – and then he would follow the call of his loins.
Danny used the electronic card to get though the gates. He walked past a row of mews houses and made his way over to the main block of flats. The large redbrick building had once been a Victorian asylum, although he doubted if any of its former inmates, had they been brought back from the dead, would recognise it now. It had been converted into luxury apartments, each one with its own balcony.
The foyer was warm – no scrimping on the heating here – and full of plants. The tiled floor was immaculately clean, or at least it had been until he’d stamped the snow off his shoes. He took the lift up to the third floor. The lift was spotless too, the metal panels polished and gleaming.
He unlocked the door to the flat and stepped inside. The spacious living room was decorated in neutral shades, the carpet beige, the curtains a pale mushroom brown. There was a brown leather sofa and two matching easy chairs, a table, some lamps and a widescreen plasma TV.
In order to disguise the obvious masculinity of the room, he and Silver had come over earlier and done their usual makeover. Now there were pink and cream cushions scattered on the sofa, a vase with pink roses, and copies of Cosmopolitan, Vogue and Heat magazine piled up on the coffee table. They had even emptied the bathroom cabinet of all the male toiletries and replaced them with female ones. It didn’t do to be careless, to make stupid mistakes. It would be all too easy for the mark to get spooked, to figure something was wrong and do a runner.
Danny did a mental check. Yes, everything was in order. There was wine in the fridge, a few lines of coke in the kitchen drawer. You could never tell what these blokes were into. He went into the master bedroom and looked up at the camera that was attached to the ceiling and disguised as a smoke alarm. All set and ready to go.
He left and walked into the second, smaller bedroom, picked up the laptop and sat down on the bed. It wouldn’t be long now. He listened out for the sound of the key in the lock. Whatever the guy was into, ‘Ava’ would oblige. Jeremy Squires was about to have all his dreams come true… and then he would pay for it.
20
By the time Ava got back to Market Square, it was knocking on for seven. She had stayed at her father’s for something to eat and then he had walked her off the estate and along to the corner of the high street. She’d told him she’d be fine, but he’d insisted on accompanying her.
‘It’s dark, love. There are all sorts hanging around.’
She hadn’t raised any further objections. In truth, she was glad of the escort. The estate was a dubious place in daylight, but at night it was positively sinister. The lighting was bad and there were too many shadowy places for people to hide. She had linked her arm through his and together they had trudged through the snow. After the day she’d had, it had been nice to feel safe and secure, to know that – for the next five minutes at least – nothing bad was going to happen.
Ava didn’t feel so confident, however, about the future. Now that she’d found out about the robbery, and her dad’s part in it, she was scared that the law would catch up with him. The job might have gone off without a hitch, but that didn’t mean anything. People had loose tongues. If another member of the gang got nabbed, they probably wouldn’t think twice about grassing him up in exchange for a lighter sentence. The old rules of keeping shtum no matter what had long since gone out of the window and now it was every man for himself.
She slowed as she crossed the square. It might be Friday night, but she had nothing special to rush home for. ‘Ava Gold,’ she murmured, ‘you have to get yourself a life.’ She passed the cinema where there was a short queue waiting outside. It was ages since she’d last been to see a film. The couples huddled together against the cold, their intimacy reminding her of her own solitary status. Would she ever start dating again? The thought of trusting her heart to someone new filled her with fear and anxiety. Perhaps she would get a cat instead.
As she entered the flat, she could hear voices and music coming from the living room. She pushed open the door and three faces turned to look at her.
‘Ah, there you are,’ Tash said. ‘Where have you been? We’ve been waiting ages.’
Ava, who hadn’t been aware of any arrangements, frowned back at her. ‘At my dad’s. I didn’t know —’
‘Lydia’s here,’ said Tash brightly, gesturing with her hand in case Ava had failed to notice.
‘Hi, Lydia.’
‘Hi.’
Hannah crossed her legs and stared at her through suspicious eyes. ‘What happened? Did you forget?’
Before Ava could reveal that there hadn’t been anything to forget, Tash jumped in again. ‘It doesn’t matter now. We’ve got wine. Why don’t you grab yourself a glass?’
It only took Ava a few seconds to figure out what was going on. She smiled at Lydia and said, ‘Sorry, have you been here long?’
‘Only half an hour or so.’
‘Good, that’s good. I’ll just go and get a glass, then.’
&n
bsp; Tash followed her into the kitchen under the pretext of getting more snacks. ‘Sorry,’ she said in hushed, hurried tones. ‘Hannah turned up out of the blue. I had to tell her that you’d invited Lydia over or…’
‘Or she’d have thought you were up to no good.’
‘Something like that.’
‘So now Lydia’s my new best friend?’
Tash reached into the cupboard and took out a large pack of dry roasted peanuts. ‘Not your best friend,’ she said. ‘That would be me. Just a friend, and Lydia’s nice. I thought you liked her.’
‘I do, although obviously not as much as you.’
Tash grinned. ‘She’s cute, don’t you think?’
Ava took off her wet coat and draped it over the back of a chair. ‘And what about Hannah?’
Tash glanced towards the living room and put a finger to her lips. ‘What about her?’
‘They can’t hear us, not above the music. Look, if you don’t want to be with her, why don’t you tell her?’
‘I do want to be with her. I love Hannah. It’s just… she can be so serious. And she gets so jealous. What’s wrong with having a bit of fun now and then? It’s not as if I’m going to cheat on her or anything.’
As if on cue, Hannah’s voice rose over the dulcet tones of Emeli Sandé. ‘What are you two doing in there?’
‘Two secs,’ Tash called back. She leaned over and squeezed Ava’s arm. ‘Thanks for this. You’re a sweetheart.’
Ava shook her head, waiting a moment before joining the others. Personally, she thought Tash was playing with fire, but that was up to her. Although she wasn’t happy about the deception, she knew she’d go along with it. She rummaged in her bag and took out her phone. No new messages. No missed calls. She wondered if she’d hear from Chris Street before the end of the day. As things stood, she still didn’t have a clue if she was expected in on Monday or not. Hired or fired? If he made a decision, it would save her the trouble.
Ava left the phone on the table and picked up a clean glass from the side of the sink. Then she went into the living room. Tash and Hannah were sitting on the sofa, and Lydia was in the easy chair. Not wanting to squeeze in beside the happy couple, she got a cushion and sat down on the floor instead.
‘Here,’ said Tash, passing over the bottle of Chablis. ‘Pour yourself a large one. You’ve got some catching up to do.’
Ava filled the glass and put the bottle down on the coffee table. She took a sip of wine, aware of Hannah’s eyes boring into her. Tash’s cover story, she suspected, hadn’t been entirely believable. Quickly, Ava looked over at Lydia. ‘So hey, thanks for coming. I’m sorry I was late. How’s work going? I enjoyed the show. Did you sell much?’
Lydia sat forward and smiled. ‘Oh yes, lots. It went really well. Someone even bought the rat.’
‘You’re kidding?’ The image of the rat with its guts hanging out leapt into her head. ‘My God, who’d want to own a thing like that?’
‘You’d be surprised. Some of the collectors like the grotesque.’
‘It’s all grotesque,’ said Hannah, giving an exaggerated shudder. ‘Dead animals. It’s sick.’
Lydia’s smile faded away. She looked over at her, but didn’t say anything.
‘But some of the animals are quite beautiful,’ Tash said.
Hannah snorted. ‘Since when did you become such a fan? That’s a new one. You told me you didn’t like —’
‘I said I didn’t like a few of the exhibits. That’s not the same as all of them.’
‘Well, pardon me for hearing something completely different.’
Ava caught Lydia’s eye and raised her eyebrows. She felt sorry for the girl, invited round for what she must have hoped would be a pleasant evening. There was an atmosphere that would make the most thick-skinned individual feel like running for the hills. ‘So, are we staying in or should we go out somewhere?’
‘What about Wilder’s?’ Lydia suggested.
Ava pulled a face, remembering the drama with Chris Street earlier that day. ‘Anywhere but Wilder’s.’
‘What’s wrong with it?’ asked Hannah, itching for a fight. ‘At least you can get a decent bottle of wine there.’
Ava was prepared to do pretty much anything to help out Tash, but she drew the line at returning to that bar. ‘I’d rather not.’
‘Oh, sorry, I forgot,’ Lydia said. ‘You don’t like Guy Wilder, do you?’
‘It’s not that. I don’t even know the man. It’s just sort of awkward at the moment.’
‘Awkward?’ Hannah echoed. ‘How do you mean awkward?’
Ava didn’t want to go into detail, but she had to give some kind of explanation. ‘Well, my boss doesn’t get on with him so it makes things a bit difficult.’
Hannah stared at her. ‘Right, so because Chris Street has a problem, we’re not allowed to drink in Wilder’s?’
Ava stared back. ‘No one’s saying you can’t,’ she replied coolly. ‘You can drink wherever you like. I’d just prefer to keep my distance right now.’
‘He’s actually very nice,’ Lydia said. ‘Guy, I mean. He’s very sweet. You should meet him sometime.’
‘Yes,’ Hannah said. ‘And then you could make your own mind up instead of letting someone else make it up for you.’
Ava felt her hackles rise and made a point of mentally counting to ten. Hannah was out to provoke, but she wasn’t going to rise to it. ‘You’re probably right,’ she said, forcing a smile. ‘Still, I’d rather not get involved in other people’s arguments.’
‘Aren’t you already doing that?’ Hannah said.
Ava bit her tongue. She’d had enough confrontation for one day.
‘Let’s go to the Fox instead,’ Tash said.
Hannah shook her head. ‘You work at the Fox, love. You don’t want to go there on your night off.’
‘Oh, I don’t mind. It’ll make a change being on the other side of the bar.’ Tash jumped up. ‘Yes, let’s go the Fox.’
Ava uncurled her legs and stood up too. ‘I’ll get my coat.’ She went into the kitchen, saw her phone on the table and checked again for any messages. The screen was still blank. As she was standing there, she heard the distant sound of a police siren and the breath caught in her throat. She thought of her father first – what if they were going to arrest him? – but quickly dismissed the idea. They wouldn’t advertise the fact that they were on their way. Chris Street, however, was a different matter. Maybe he’d decided to go back to the bar and have it out with Wilder.
21
Chris stared hard at the gyrfalcon and the falcon stared back at him. It was a competition that he could never win, but he persisted in trying out of sheer perversity. He’d been drinking on and off all day, and although he wasn’t slaughtered he had reached that point where his thoughts were getting frayed around the edges.
‘So,’ he said to the bird. ‘Is this how it’s going to be from now on? Me doing all the talking and you just sitting there? I mean, you could at least try and make an effort.’
The glass dome had been delivered to Belles and then sent on by taxi to Walpole Close. Chris could have picked it up from the office in the morning, but for some reason – perhaps because of the whisky he’d been pouring down his throat – he’d decided he had to have it straight away.
‘You’re a bloody expensive bird, considering you do fuck all,’ he said.
The bird’s glassy eyes gazed back at him.
‘You’d better be worth it.’ The deal with Borovski was still hanging in the balance. The Russian’s new casino, slap on the border of Shoreditch and Kellston, was due to open in a couple of months. It was a matter of opinion as to whether this was actually in Street territory or not. Borovski, however, was reluctant to pay out protection money. A compromise deal was being negotiated, whereby the Streets would provide the security, and possibly some girls. It would be a nice little earner if it came off. But you couldn’t trust the Russians. Say one thing and do another. Jesus, you couldn�
�t trust anyone these days, not even your bloody ex-wife.
‘Okay,’ he said to the falcon. ‘You win.’ He dropped his gaze to the mobile phone, still sitting silently on the arm of the chair. Despite Ava’s advice, he had been trying to ring Jenna all evening. The cow wasn’t picking up. Straight to voicemail every time. So she was avoiding him. That didn’t come as any great surprise. But she’d have to talk to him eventually.
