by Natasha West
‘Sorry. I just… Becky was one thing. But I don’t know. I don’t think I want to keep contacting people you know. Feels like we’re pushing our luck.’
‘Then I don’t know what else to do,’ Sophie said helplessly.
April sighed. ‘There’s got to be something. We just need to think.’
Sophie shrugged. ‘OK, if you get a better idea, let me know.’
***
Three hours later, April was ready to admit that she did not have a better idea. Or any idea. But she was far from happy. ‘If we do this, we’ve got to be extremely careful.’
‘Yeah, I know, sneaky sneaky. But you might need to tell me how to do that because I’m obviously quite shit at it.’
April smiled. ‘I’m no expert.’
‘I watched you talk your way out of Kenny’s company twice. You clearly have instincts that I don’t.’
April didn’t know if that was true, she only knew that when the shit hit the fan, her desire to live supplied a way out. But if she did have these so-called instincts, they were going to have to pay off one more time.
***
April adjusted her red polo t-shirt with the name of some water company on the front, Central Water. They’d bought it at a workwear shop, where it was sitting on a mannequin. April had pretended she worked there and needed one fast because hers had been damaged and the boss was giving her shit because she didn’t have proper attire, so the woman in the shop had skipped the printing process, pulled it out of the window and given it to her at cost. April had been very grateful. ‘You just saved my life,’ she told her truthfully.
And now she was going to knock on Sophie’s parents' house and claim she was there to read the meter. Hopefully, she’d be invited in to do so, and that’s when she’d find a way to the safe, where she’d have to use the code Sophie gave her, take whatever was in there, and leave the note that Sophie was writing to explain why they’d had to do this. April asked Sophie if she was sure about it a dozen times. Sophie wasn’t happy, but she seemed sure they’d understand.
Of course, they’d considered just walking up to the front door. But April had pointed out that there was no way they weren’t going to freak out when they saw her. It would be a scene, and anyone watching the house would see it a mile off. So April had to go, trick her way in. ‘But even if my parents don’t know what you look like, what if you get recognised by someone watching the street?’ Sophie had asked. ‘They’ll know you have blonde hair now, Kenny will have told them.’
‘Yes, they might well have a description of a blonde woman,’ April replied as she pulled out a fake goatee and short brown wig from her bag, along with a trucker cap. ‘Which is why it won’t be a blonde woman at the door. It’ll be a man with brown hair.’
Sophie goggled. ‘There’s no way that’ll work. No one is going to believe you’re a man.’
‘At a distance, cap and scruffy beard, I think they might,’ April said.
‘But my parents will see you at close range.’
‘You think they're going press me on my gender identity?’ April quizzed.
‘Probably not. We just don’t want them to get suss. It’ll make getting to the safe harder if their hackles are up.’
‘At worst, won’t they just think I’m young, maybe just out of puberty?’
Sophie shrugged. ‘I guess they might. But can’t I just call them and tell them what’s going on? It would make everything so much easier. We could set up a meeting somewhere quiet.’
‘I don’t trust that your parents’ phones aren’t bugged. I’m sorry. Even if you sent them a letter, they could be followed. If they’re watching the house, they’ll see delivery people and tradesmen and salespeople knock on the door all the time, and they won’t think much of it. Because they’re your parents, so anyone watching will be watching for you. But me dressed as a meter reading bloke? Easier to go unnoticed.’
Sophie groaned. ‘It’s all just so bloody convoluted. There’s so much that could go wrong.’
‘It’s my best idea,’ April said, taking Sophie’s hand. ‘But if you don’t think I can pull it off…’
Sophie shook her head. ‘I pretty much think you’re a superhero, you know that. If you think this will work, it’ll work.’
April smiled at Sophie. ‘That’s the real reason it will work. Because you believe in me. That’s how I’ve gotten this far.’
‘You’re a smooth talker, you know that?’
April smiled and slapped on the wig. ‘Let’s hope so.’
***
April was on Sophie’s parents’ street, but she didn’t head straight for them. Starting at the beginning of the street, she went to about a third of the houses, rang the bell, and asked to read the meter. Every last person invited her in once she’d flashed the ID that identified her as Jack Martinson, an employee of Central Water. The ID was made using library equipment, namely a printer and a laminator, in combination with a photo printed at Boots, the photo snapped on the burner phone. It was kind of scary how smoothly April got into every house with only the fake ID. Only one woman wanted to know where her electronic device for taking readings was. April told her it was malfunctioning, and she was taking readings on paper to be entered into a computer later. The woman seemed happy with that.
It was a massive faff doing the street that way, but April had to look legitimate. Her working the street sold that story better than her just wandering up and knocking on one door.
Finally, April reached number eighty-two, the home of Mr and Mrs Hart. She gathered her nerve and knocked on the door.
A woman answered. She looked a bit like Sophie, though the vibe and dress sense were very different. ‘Hi, here to read the water meter,’ April said with all the confidence she could muster, not to mention a voice several octaves below her own, flashing her ID.
Mrs Hart peered at the ID for quite a while, and April thought she was rumbled. But then Mrs Hart tutted and said, ‘I’m absolutely blind as a bat without my glasses. Anyway, come in.’
April smiled and stepped over the threshold, and Mrs Hart led her down the hall. As she traversed the hallway, April saw a picture of Sophie on the wall as a kid of about thirteen, goofy and awkward, and she pushed away a strong desire to kiss the thing.
‘It’s in there,’ Mrs Hart said, pointing at the kitchen. ‘Under the sink.’
April opened up the cupboard under the sink and found the little meter. She noted down the numbers on her pad and said, ‘Great, thanks.’ She got up, and Mrs Hart took her back down the hall. Almost at the front door, April gave a manly groan.
Mrs Hart turned in alarm. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’ve had a stomach thing the last few days,’ April said bravely. ‘It’s fine. I just… Oh no.’
‘What?’ Mrs Hart begged.
‘I think I’m about to…’ She groaned again. ‘Can I please use your toilet?’
Mrs Hart didn’t look too sure. But then April let rip the most terrible fart. She’d been storing it up since she’d eaten a pan full of Brussel sprouts an hour ago in preparation. ‘Oh Jesus, it’s coming!’
Mrs Hart, looking a bit worried for her carpets, cried, ‘OK, yes, it’s upstairs on the right.’
‘Thanks!’
April took the stairs two at a time and ran to the toilet. She opened the door and shut it again loudly before heading next door to the office. She looked underneath the desk, and there was a small safe, as described. April quickly punched in the number, and it opened to show stacks of notes. She grabbed all she could and stuffed it into her work boots. That done, she pulled Sophie’s letter from her pocket and placed it inside the safe before shutting the door. She got up quickly and headed back to the bathroom, where she slipped quietly inside and flushed the toilet, a long loud flush. She washed her hands and walked out of the bathroom. Outside the door was a man, and April nearly screamed in surprise.
‘My wife said you were having some trouble with your tummy, are you alright?’ the man as
ked, Sophie’s Dad. He was kindly looking.
April nodded. ‘Yes, thanks. I just had to… It was sort of a turtle’s head situation, and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to contain it long enough to get out of your house.’
Mr Hart guffawed. ‘These things happen. We’ve got some Imodium if you need it?’
April shook her head, feeling terrible. Sophie’s parents were nice, and she was stealing from them. Even with the best motive in the world, April was guilt-ridden. ‘Nah, I’ve got something in the van I can take. Cheers though.’
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ Mr Hart said, leading April downstairs.
Mrs Hart popped out of the kitchen. ‘Everything… OK?’
April nodded. ‘Yes, much better. Appreciate your hospitality.’
‘Of course,’ the woman said. ‘I hope you feel better soon.’
‘Cheers. Right, I’ll be off,’ April said quickly and dashed off down the hall, nearly running from the house. But as she got out of the door, she remembered there could be eyes on her. So, she carried on her route, finishing the street. It took her a further forty-five minutes, but then she walked off the street without incident.
As she left, she couldn’t help but glance around for anyone sitting in cars. She saw several people doing just that, but it was hard to say whether they were simply tradespeople or the people of her nightmares. She wasn’t taking any chances either way. Once she got off the street, she turned a corner and started running.
Twenty-Five
‘So once we’ve got the passports, next thing is to open bank accounts and put the rest of the money in there, ready to use for whatever next,’ Sophie clarified as they walked up an alleyway next to a shop that sold Harry Potter merchandise. ‘Flights, trains, hotels, whatever.’
April nodded. ‘Yeah, good plan.’
Sophie sighed sadly. ‘I wonder if they’ve found the letter yet.’
‘I don’t know what’s worse, if they have or they haven’t,’ April replied with deep melancholy. ‘I keep picturing their faces when they realise they were tricked.’
‘I hate that you had to do that. But once they’ve gotten over the shock, they will understand,’ Sophie assured April.
‘What did you say in the letter?’ April asked as they reached the red door and knocked.
While they waited, Sophie said, ‘I said things had gone wrong and that I wished I could have asked them for the money, but it would have put them in danger, and I hoped they could forgive me. I also promised to pay them back one day. And of course, I told them I loved them. Just what you’d expect.’
‘They were nice, your parents,’ April said.
Sophie smiled. ‘Yeah. They would have really liked you under other circumstances, I think.’
‘Ones where I wasn’t stealing their child and robbing their house?’
‘Yeah, that kind,’ Sophie agreed.
The door opened, and Sophie’s smile fell away as a woman with a hard face said, ‘Yeah?’
‘Liam sent us,’ Sophie told her, trying to sound cool. She was shitting a brick. She’d been distracting herself by talking all the way here. But she was nervous about this, no doubt. ‘He set up a meeting.’
The woman looked Sophie and April up and down. ‘You look like a couple of narcs.’
Sophie was surprised to hear April laugh. ‘Yeah, exactly. Narcs never look like narcs, do they?’
The woman considered that. ‘Right, well, I guess Liam vouched for you, so come on in.’
They walked into what turned out to be a small warehouse space, ram full of boxes, that the woman led them through, round corners and down rows until they reached an office. They walked in to find a pudgy guy with a comb-over and a lot of sovereign rings sat behind a desk. He took one look at April and Sophie and said, ‘These two look like narcs if ever I saw ‘em.’
Sophie groaned. ‘Look, you know Liam, right? I grew up with him, didn’t he tell you that?’
The guy sniffed. ‘Yeah, I guess. But I’m gonna have to check for listening devices, just in case Liam’s fed me a crock of shit. You never know, do you, girls?’
‘I guess you don’t,’ Sophie replied, as breezily as she could muster. ‘Yeah, go ahead. We’re clean, makes no odds to us.’
He took a device out of his drawer and switched it on. ‘Got this off eBay. Brilliant, it is. Something to do with waves.’ He got up and walked over to Sophie and April, running the device all around them. It went off on Sophie. For a split second, she panicked. ‘Wait, it’s just my phone,’ she said, taking it out and handing it to the man. He had a look at it, taking the battery out. ‘Just to be sure.’ He finished scanning and then said, ‘Yeah, alright. I’ve got your passports. Just need to get a snap of you two, and my bloke will finish them off. But I’ll need cash upfront.’
Sophie took the money from her bra and handed it over. ‘How long will it take?’
‘It’ll be about an hour; you can wait here.’
Sophie glanced at April and back to the man. ‘How do we know you won’t just take this money and run out of here right now?’
The man smiled. ‘Yeah, I suppose I could. But I’m quite attached to this place, so it wouldn’t make sense letting you two know where I was and then pissing you off so you could dob me in later. My shop’s attached and a good front is pretty hard to find. Sells such tat, but the kind of tat you can overcharge for. Brilliant for laundering.’
‘The shop that sells Harry Potter merch, that’s yours?’ Sophie asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘God, I always wondered how a shop like that stays in business. Seventy-five quid for a jumper? That’s ridiculous.’
‘And now you know,’ the man smiled, putting the money in his drawer along with his scanner. He got a camera and told Sophie to stand in front of a white sheet at the back of the office. He got the snap, and then April took a turn. ‘Right, then. There’s a pod coffee machine. Carol will show you where.’
Carol, the hard-faced woman, led them out, through the box stacks, rounding several corners until they found a break area with a few chairs and the promised coffee machine, boxes of pods stacked up next to it. ‘Don’t use the cortado pods, they’ve gone odd, someone left them next to a space heater,’ Carol warned and walked back off round the bend. After she’d gone, Sophie turned to April. ‘Why wouldn’t she just throw them away?’
April shrugged and sat down. Sophie had a look at the coffee pods and dithered over whether to have a latte. In the end, it didn’t seem worth the risk, and she sat down to wait with April.
Forty-five minutes of the allotted hour went by, and Sophie was starting to feel a bit jittery. It was too long to sit in a dodgy warehouse at night. ‘Hey, this is going to be OK, isn’t it?’ she asked April.
April arched an eyebrow. ‘You tell me, you set this up.’
Sophie shut her mouth after that. She had no right to be putting her nerves on April. She’d said this would be OK, that Liam would see them right and she had to remember that it was true because they were here, they’d paid their money – her parents’ money, she remembered guiltily – and they were waiting for their passports, come what may.
Fifty-five minutes ticked by, and Sophie’s knee was bouncing up and down. April put a calming hand on it, and it stopped bouncing. ‘Maybe I should have that coffee after all?’ Sophie said.
April looked at her. ‘I don’t think caffeine would be a friend to you right now.’
Sophie grinned nervously. ‘I’m sorry I’m being like this. I’m just a bit… I’m out of my element.’
‘We both are,’ April said.
‘Then why do you always look so cool when the shit hits the fan?’
April smiled at Sophie. ‘I’m not cool at all. I’m sweating as much as you. I’ve just learned how to fake it till I make it.’
Sophie whistled. ‘Man, you’re good. Meryl Streep good.’
‘If only they gave out Oscars for trying not to get murdered.’
‘I think I’d wat
ch that,’ Sophie said lightly. But April’s words struck a chord. Sophie was no stranger to faking it. She’d done that every day of her working life. The only difference was that there was very little at stake back then.
‘Oi!’ Carol said, putting her head around a box.
‘Aaagh!’ Sophie cried, shocked.
Carol tutted. ‘I’m not that scary.’
‘She’s just a bit on edge,’ April explained. ‘She accidentally had one of those cortados.’
Carol laughed mirthlessly. ‘Stick close to a toilet then.’
