by Roberta Kray
‘I’ll be fine. You think I’m going to let you risk your whole future by driving around with a load of dodgy gear?’
‘You just said there wasn’t any risk.’
‘Hardly any risk, but that’s not the point. You never know what’s going to happen. Some idiot jumps a red light or runs into the back of you and it’s game over. This is my problem, love, not yours. I’ll be the one to sort it out.’
‘Except there’s every chance that you’ll be the one running the light or doing the crashing, and then what? How do you think Ryan Moore’s going to react when he finds out all his hard work’s gone for a burton? He’ll be none too happy when you wrap that van round a lamppost either.’
‘I’m not going to do that.’
‘No,’ she said, ‘you’re not. Because you’re not going to drive the damn thing. Be sensible, Dad, just for once in your life. Let me do this. If you don’t and something happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself. And Jesus, you know what else? I really can’t cope with any more prison visiting.’
He gazed across the table at her, his eyes full of sadness and regret. He knew she was right, but was still unwilling to make that final decision.
‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Please let me do this.’
Finally he gave in. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘but I’m coming with you. I’m not letting you do this on your own.’
Ava shook her head. ‘No, no way. I don’t want that. You’ll only make it harder for me. I don’t want to have to worry about you getting sick on the way there. If we have to stop or pull in somewhere, we’ll only draw attention to ourselves.’
‘If anything happens, your mother will never talk to me again.’
‘She never talks to you anyway. Come on, please, give me the keys. The longer we argue about it, the less time we have.’
His overcoat was hanging over the back of the chair. Eventually, reluctantly, he turned around, dug into the pocket and pulled out the keys to the van. Even then he didn’t pass them over immediately. ‘This isn’t right, love. I can’t —’
‘You can,’ she said, reaching out to grab them before he changed his mind. Once they were safely in her hand, she stood up and got ready to go. ‘Now, tell me exactly where this warehouse is.’
Three minutes later, Ava was jogging down the stone steps of Haslow House. Nerves fluttered in her stomach as she rounded the stairwell and headed for the ground floor. What was she doing? It was crazy. Well, yes, it might be crazy, but it was still a damn sight less crazy than allowing her father to do it.
Once she was down in the foyer, she paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. She had to stay calm, stay focused. All she was doing was driving a van to Chingford. Don’t think about what’s in the back of it. Don’t think about stolen goods. Don’t think about getting caught. She swallowed hard before she pushed open the door and hurried through the estate towards Tierney Street.
The white Luton van was parked exactly where her father had said it would be, halfway down the street and alongside the launderette. Her fingers tightened around the keys as she approached, her eyes darting from side to side in case anyone was watching. What if the cops were here and lying in wait? She glanced over her shoulder, afraid that she might be being followed. She considered walking on past the van and going round the block just to make sure, but then decided it would only be a waste of time. Even if the police were here they’d be keeping out of sight.
Standing beside the van, Ava took one last look round before finally unlocking it. Then she took a deep breath, jumped inside and slammed the door. For the next few seconds, she sat there, hunched over the wheel, waiting for the worst to happen. She was so tense she could feel a thin ache running along her shoulder blades and down the length of her spine.
Eventually, when it sank in that the coast was apparently clear, she put the key in the ignition and started the engine. Almost immediately her phone began to ring. She jumped. Damn! Who was that? Snatching the phone out of her bag, she looked at the screen. It was Chris. She thought about ignoring it – it was another two hours before she was due to pick him up – but then decided that she’d better speak to him. If the traffic was bad she might not get back in time for ten o’clock.
‘Hello,’ she said.
‘Ava? It’s Chris.’ His voice sounded harsh and urgent. ‘Where are you? Are you at home?’
‘No, I’m, er… I’ve just been to see my dad.’
‘Something’s happened. Have you heard?’
‘What? What is it?’
There was a harsh intake of breath from the other end of the line. ‘It’s Jenna. She’s dead. She’s been murdered.’
49
It took Ava a moment to process the information. Jenna dead, murdered? As the horror slowly seeped into her brain, a shiver ran through her. ‘What?’ she said again.
‘I didn’t do it. I swear to you, I didn’t. And I can’t go home. I can’t get the Merc. Danny says the cops are there. They’re waiting for me. The bastards will try and pin this on me. I know they will.’
Ava shook her head, trying to work through the shock of it all. She remembered the police cars gathered at the green, the flashing lights, the growing crowd of onlookers. ‘But if you run, they’ll be sure you’re guilty.’
‘They’re already sure. They’ve got me right in the frame. I need to get out of Kellston. I need to get out of here fast.’
She knew what he was asking and her heart sank. She didn’t answer straight away. Once she’d committed herself there would be no going back.
‘Ava, I swear I didn’t do it. I give you my word.’
‘I know. I believe you,’ she said, although she was still too shocked to know what she truly believed.
‘I need to get away before I get collared. Anywhere. It doesn’t matter. Just somewhere I can lie low for a while.’
‘Where are you?’
‘The old railway arches,’ he said. ‘Near Albert Street.’
Ava knew the place, abandoned and derelict, the haunt of some of the local toms. Her fingers tightened around the phone. What choice did she have? She couldn’t say no. She couldn’t turn her back when he’d asked for help. Before long, there’d be cops crawling all over Kellston; it would only be a matter of time before they flushed him out. ‘Wait there,’ she said. ‘I’ll be five minutes.’
Rather than taking the more direct route along the high street – a route that would have involved passing the green – she wound around the back streets instead. This proved more problematical than she’d anticipated. The van was a longer, wider vehicle than she was used to and several times she came uncomfortably close to scraping the cars parked on either side of the narrow streets.
Although she wanted to get there in a hurry, she couldn’t afford to put her foot down. Concentrate, she ordered herself. Don’t think about anything but getting this damn van from A to B. But her mind refused to listen. What was she doing? Inevitably, her thoughts reeled back to Friday, to Chris’s rage when he’d found out about Jenna and Guy Wilder. Even yesterday, he’d still been trying to get hold of her, pestering her with calls and texts. What if he’d snapped, lost his temper and… But no, she couldn’t believe that he’d actually killed her. Chris Street was capable of many things, but surely not that.
By the time she reached the arches it was almost half past eight. She cruised slowly along the empty street keeping her eyes peeled. The crumbling redbrick construction had once been occupied by barbers, cobblers, bakers and mechanics, but all those enterprises had long since ceased to exist. Now it was used only by the dispossessed, the homeless seeking shelter for the night, the junkies or the prostitutes needing somewhere dark and lonely to conduct their private business.
When she reached the end of the street, she pulled up, leaving the engine running. She waited, drumming her fingers on the wheel. Where was he? She peered through the misty air at the gaping, sinister holes of the arches. Sometimes the council came along and boarded them up, but within a few hours the boards wou
ld all be torn down again.
After a minute, when he still hadn’t appeared, she got out her phone and called him. ‘I’m here,’ she whispered, even though there was no one to hear her. ‘I’m in the white van. Where are you?’
A few seconds later Chris emerged from one of the arches. He had the appearance of a fugitive, his head bent, his shoulders hunched. As he hurried towards the van, she lifted a hand and bit down on her knuckles. What was she doing? Shortly, she would not just be in possession of a pile of stolen gear, but also of a man of the run – a man who was suspected of murder. How much worse could it get? Before she had too much time to think it through, he’d already jumped into the cab beside her.
‘I thought you’d be in the Kia,’ he said.
She looked at him. His body was tense, his face tight and grim. ‘You okay?’
‘I will be – as soon as we get clear of here.’
Ava pulled away from the kerb, trying to decide on the best route to take. She couldn’t go anywhere near the high street. It was too risky with all the police around. She would have to loop around and head for Chingford that way. ‘So what happened? Do you know?’
Chris shifted in the seat, shifting forward and then shifting back, his dark eyes scanning the road. ‘All I know is that she’s dead. She was found on the green this morning. I had a meet with someone, early, down at the Hope. A bit of business, nothing important. I was on my way there when Danny rang, said Jenna had been murdered and the cops were at the house. I didn’t have the car so I legged it over to the arches. It was somewhere to lie low until I figured out what to do next.’
‘But why should the cops think it was you? I mean, I get that she’s your ex and the rest but —’
‘It’s more complicated than that.’
Ava felt her stomach tighten. She stared out at the slow-moving traffic on Roman Road, willing it to move faster, for the lights to stay on green. She suspected she might regret her next question, but it leapt from her mouth before she could silence it. ‘How? How is it complicated?’
He drew in a breath, averted his face for a moment and then glanced back. ‘I got a text from her last night at about ten to eleven, saying she had to speak to me urgently, to meet her by the green. I tried to call her, but her phone was turned off.’
‘And you went?’
‘Yeah, I went. I hung around but she was a no-show. I tried her phone again, but it was still going straight to voicemail. I waited half an hour or so and then went home. I thought she was just fucking me about. I had no idea that…’ He rubbed hard at his face. ‘She must have been there, though. She must have already been…’
‘Didn’t you think it was odd, her calling so late?’
‘Not really. That was how Jenna was. She liked to snap her fingers and have people come running.’
‘But not many women would choose to meet at the green at that time of night. Bit of a dark and lonely place for a rendezvous with an unhappy ex.’
Chris’s eyes flashed as if she was accusing him of something, but then he blinked and shook his head and gave a shrug. ‘I presumed she meant by the green, not actually on it. It’s not dark there. There’s plenty of light from the streetlamps. And anyway, I thought she’d probably parked her car there. I presumed she was in Kellston seeing Wilder, and it’s not always easy to find a space near the bar. I thought she’d wait in the car.’ His right hand clenched and unclenched on his thigh. The corners of his mouth turned down. ‘Jesus, I don’t know what I thought. Maybe I wasn’t even thinking. I just wanted to see her, to find out what the hell was going on.’
Ava realised now why the cops would have him firmly in the frame. They’d find the text on Jenna’s phone and know that she had gone to meet Chris at the green. It wouldn’t take a genius to put together a credible case against him. How long before they heard about his angry visit to Wilder’s on Friday? There were plenty of witnesses to it. And then there were all the texts he must have sent to her over the past few days. He would come across as a man running out of patience, a vengeful, jealous man who couldn’t cope with the fact that his ex had moved on. Not to mention that the moving on was being done with his old enemy, Guy Wilder.
Chris took out his phone and started to scroll through the menu. ‘I’m going to ring Danny, see what’s going on.’
‘No,’ she said sharply, a memory jumping into her head of a thriller she’d recently seen on TV. ‘You should turn that off. Can’t the cops track you through your phone?’
‘Shit,’ he murmured, jabbing at the button.
‘I think you have to take the battery out, maybe the sim card too. But whatever you do, don’t use it again, not while… not until this is all sorted out.’ She took her own mobile out of her pocket and threw it into his lap. ‘Here, you’d better do mine too.’
While Chris sorted out the phones, Ava stared hard at the road ahead. By now they had reached the roundabout on Lea Bridge Road and she tried to concentrate as they merged on to the North Circular. Here the traffic was manic, a rushing, roaring crush of vehicles. She hunched over the wheel, watching the cars in front and behind, desperately trying to anticipate if any of them were about to do something stupid. She couldn’t afford to get caught up in an accident.
‘I have to go to Chingford,’ she said. ‘My dad was supposed to be delivering some stuff, but he’s too sick. I’m going to a warehouse near the old dog track. It’s probably best if the guys there don’t see you. You might get recognised. What do you want me to do? I could drop you off somewhere and pick you up later.’
‘What’s in the van?’ he asked.
‘You don’t want to know. You’ve got enough to worry about. Let’s just say it’s not strictly legit and the sooner I get rid of it, the happier I’ll be.’
He gave a dry laugh. ‘You must be thinking the same of me.’
Ava glanced at him. ‘If I thought you were a murderer, I wouldn’t be sitting next to you. The thing is, I have to get this van back to Kellston by twelve. Have you thought about where you want to go? So long as it’s not too far, I’ll take you.’
‘Chingford’s good,’ he said. ‘I’ve got an old mate there. He’ll sort me out, get me somewhere safe to stay for a few days.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah, you can drop me off by the cemetery.’ He paused and then said, ‘You know the filth will be waiting for you when you get back? They’re bound to be. What are you going to say to them?’
Ava felt a faint sense of panic well in her throat. ‘I haven’t figured that out yet. I’ll think of something. One good thing is that the Kia’s been parked in Violet Road since yesterday. They don’t know about the van so they can’t prove that I was the one to take you anywhere.’
‘They’ll still give you a hard time.’
‘They can’t prove anything,’ she said again, although she couldn’t quite disguise the tremor in her voice. Another grilling from the police was the last thing she needed. She saw the signs for Chingford and flipped on the indicator as she headed for the slip road. They were not far off now. Another five minutes and they’d be there.
They were quiet for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. By the time Chris spoke again, they were on Old Church Road approaching Chingford Mount cemetery. There was nowhere she could safely pull in and so she turned right and passed through the gates on to the main drive.
‘This is fine,’ he said after she’d gone about fifty yards. ‘I can walk through from here.’
She stopped the van and looked around. It was still early and the only other people in sight were a man shifting dirt with a forklift and a couple of kids on bikes. A squirrel crossed the road in front of them, paused, gazed at them with curiosity and then scurried up a tree. ‘How will I get in touch with you?’
‘You don’t. It’s better that way.’
‘Is it?’
He turned his head and smiled. ‘Thanks, Ava. I won’t forget this.’
She forced a weak, trembling smile in return.
What if the cops caught up with him and threw him in jail? These could be his last few hours as a free man. ‘Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make damn sure you don’t.’
‘Bye, then.’
As he went to get out of the van, Ava reached for his arm. ‘Take care of yourself, huh?’
She wasn’t quite sure what happened next. He turned back towards her, his fingers closing around her hand. There was an intake of breath. His? Hers? She couldn’t be sure. Their eyes locked and neither of them looked away. For a few seconds they were as still as the grey stone angels in the graveyard. She couldn’t say who broke the spell, which one of them made the first move, but suddenly his face was close to hers. His lips brushed gently against her lips, his mouth slowly covering her mouth. Every sensible neuron in her brain told her to pull away, to stop, to not be such a bloody fool, but her body told her something entirely different.
