Enemy At The Window

by A J Waines

  Daniel shook his head in despair. ‘And not long after, he called in his debt?’

  ‘Exactly.’ She raised her voice. ‘Rick made you sound like a nasty piece of work. I can’t bear it when people cheat. My stepsister, you remember? Mum cheated on Dad with the vet all those years ago… it makes my blood boil.’ She contorted her lips as though tasting something unpleasant.

  ‘I didn’t cheat on my wife!’ he yelled. ‘I told you.’

  She shuddered at his words. ‘I know that now. You said the photos were fake and I believe you. Rick was totally convincing and he made it hard for me to refuse. I’m sorry.’

  ‘I trusted you. I helped you.’

  ‘I’ve made a terrible mistake. I’m telling you the truth, Daniel. And I’m gutted about what I’ve done. I’m so sorry.’

  He leant on the table for support, both arms outstretched. ‘I thought we were becoming friends. And it was all a con to get inside my house.’

  He was still having trouble taking it all in.

  ‘I didn’t know you were going to turn out to be such a… a wonderful guy.’ She stared at the floor. ‘I didn’t do any harm. In fact, I was quite helpful. I cleared away a dead mouse I came across in the loft.’

  Ah – that explained the damp cloth he’d found up there. ‘With bleach?’

  ‘Yeah. Just to clear away any germs. It wasn’t very nice.’

  ‘Is that it?’ He did nothing to keep the exasperation from his voice.

  She looked sheepish. ‘I’m afraid I did break a photograph on the landing. It was dark, the lights were off, I caught it with my rucksack. I cleared up all the glass.’

  Right. The gap on the wall. Pieces of the puzzle were gradually drifting into recognisable shapes inside his mind.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ he growled. ‘But, the middle of the night? I mean… why didn’t you snoop around when the place was empty? Why take the risk when we were there?’

  She sighed dramatically. ‘Oh, that’s my weird body clock. Ever since I’ve worked in the theatre, evenings are my time for getting my brain into gear. After performances I’m totally wired up, bursting with energy. Sleep is the last thing on my mind. Rick said you were both out all morning, but I’m sluggish until lunchtime. I make mistakes. It had to be after a show.’

  ‘I see,’ he said, shaking his head in dismay.

  ‘I feel terrible about it,’ she said, staring up at him, chewing at her bottom lip. ‘Rick is clever. He’s devious.’

  He straightened up. ‘Well – that’s probably the only thing we actually agree on.’

  And with that, he stormed out.

  Getting home was a blur. He flung the back door open again and plonked himself down on the bottom step. He could hear Ben giggling and the new puppy yapping as they played just feet away, over the brick wall.

  Thank God Edith was still keeping him entertained. He couldn’t have coped in the role of ‘happy and jolly daddy’ with all this grubby underhand treachery flying around.

  Rick! Not only had he been behind the photos designed to frame him, but he’d bullied Jody into prowling around his house. For what? It didn’t make sense.

  He ran his finger between two slabs of concrete and scooped out a chunk of moss. He held it up, staring at the spongy mass of spores rising like tiny green snowdrops. Brushing the fragile tips, he watched them spring back. Nature was resilient, but what about him? His entire life was broken. Each ongoing step was precarious, like walking barefoot on cut glass.

  Was there anyone left to trust?

  His wife had tried to kill him… because his so-called mate had done his utmost to make it look like Daniel was cheating on her. And now, this fresh-faced, sensitive woman who had come into his life from left field, had turned out to be part of some foul, convoluted scheme of Rick’s.

  He squashed the piece of moss back into the crevice, damaging the spores.

  How dare she! Inveigle her way under his skin, abusing his trust. Sneaking into his house like a common thief. What a complete idiot he’d been! He’d opened himself up to her and this was the crap he’d got back in return.

  And Rick? He’d inexplicably turned into a devious enemy – for no reason at all. He’d wanted Jody to snoop around for something, but what had he got that Rick could possibly want to pinch? It didn’t make sense.

  He launched to his feet and aimed a kick at the plant pot standing on the edge of the step. It made a feeble clunk as it hit the flagstones and failed to break. So he swung at it again with all his might and it flew across the backyard into the fence and shattered into tiny pieces.

  A worm left behind from under the pot fell onto the dry flagstone and began bucking from side to side. Daniel resisted the urge to splat it to death under the heel of his shoe, but he didn’t rescue it.

  How many other deceptions in my life are waiting to crawl to the surface?

  He let the worm writhe in the heat.

  Chapter 55

  Rick answered the door wearing wellington boots, holding a scythe. Tiny spikes of grass were stuck to beads of sweat on his forehead. Daniel hadn’t noticed until now how tightly stretched the skin across Rick’s face seemed to be. It was as if there was barely sufficient flesh to cover his bones and it made him look like he could have come from another planet.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ Rick said nonchalantly. ‘Come in. I’m having a go at the lawn, but I’ve got one hell of a headache…’

  ‘I know about Jody,’ said Daniel.

  Rick didn’t falter. He carried on through the living room and out of the French windows into the garden.

  Daniel followed him, unable to avoid the trail of Rick’s saveloy-smelling sweat left permeating the air.

  ‘All I could find was this.’ Rick held up the curved instrument. ‘I think someone has stolen the lawnmower.’ A small corner of the knee-high jungle that used to be a lawn had been roughly hacked down. There was a long way to go. ‘I feel like crap, so I’m giving up.’

  They came to a stop by some tomato plants that were growing beside the French windows. They were looking the worse for wear. It was no act of nature – the stems where the tomatoes had been forming, like tiny green marbles, had been severed with clean strokes.

  ‘Someone’s hacked them off,’ said Rick.

  Daniel found himself thinking it couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.

  He’d been rehearsing what to say on the way over, but now, whatever he could say would never be enough.

  He turned to Rick and swung a fist into his face. Rick dropped the scythe and staggered backwards.

  ‘What the…?’ shouted Rick, clutching his nose.

  Daniel hit him again and Rick’s flailing body sank back into the tall grass, making the sound of a tree being felled. Blood began to ooze through Rick’s fingers and into his mouth.

  ‘At least now we don’t have to pretend any more,’ said Daniel.

  Rick rolled onto his side in the foetal position, spitting blood into the grass.

  ‘Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?’ demanded Daniel. He hid his fist, which was now smarting, behind his back.

  ‘Not really… I’ve got a hangover. I don’t have the energy.’

  ‘You gave Sophie faked photographs. You tried to make it look like I was having an affair.’ Daniel thought he heard Rick snigger. ‘Do you fancy her, is that it? Did you do this so you could step into my shoes?’

  Rick snorted. ‘No way. She’s too stuck up for me.’

  ‘Then why?’

  ‘You don’t know, do you? You really don’t know.’

  Blood continued to dribble from his nose and Rick smeared it with his fingers and then used the front of his T-shirt.

  ‘Tell me! What is this ridiculous farce all about?’

  ‘You’re going to have to work out the rest for yourself. That’s all I’m going to say.’

  ‘You tore my marriage apart, you broke up my son’s home and my wife is serving a sentence for GBH… and that’s all you’ve got to s
ay for yourself? That I have to work it out – like it’s some ludicrous contest?’

  Rick managed a smug grin. ‘Yup – that’s about the long and short of it.’

  Daniel snatched the scythe. Rick instantly got to his feet and shuffled towards the nearest undergrowth. He crouched between a holly bush and the fence like a five-year-old playing a reluctant game of hide-and-seek.

  Daniel swung the scythe in his hand, getting a feel for the weight of it.

  ‘If you kill me you’ll never know why I had to do it,’ said Rick, defiance behind every word.

  ‘You blackmailed Jody into sneaking around my house.’

  ‘Yeah, she was up for it at first. Went a bit flaky towards the end.’ Rick stayed where he was, cradling his nose. He didn’t look like he had the strength to stand upright just yet.

  ‘Why? What did you hope she’d find?’ Daniel continued.

  ‘That would be telling, wouldn’t it?’

  Rick pulled a holly leaf off the bush and examined it. ‘You’ve got quite a bit of working out to do, old boy, haven’t you?’

  Rick sounded for a horrible moment like he might be gaining the upper hand.

  Daniel considered the cowering figure and took one step towards him. Rick flinched and backed deeper into the hedge.

  ‘It’s all just a game to you, Rick, isn’t it? Just one long ridiculous fucking game.’

  ‘I like to think so.’

  Daniel glared at the pathetic figure squatting behind the holly bush and made himself stop and think. His immediate impulse was to lash out at him with the scythe, but he was too acutely aware, following Sophie’s outburst, of the consequences. That was the difference between him and Rick – Daniel cared about the damage he might cause people and Rick didn’t give it a second’s thought.

  Daniel wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead and turned away.

  Sensing victory, Rick popped his head out of the bush with a gleeful smile like a jack-in-the-box. Nevertheless, he kept his distance, stripping a leaf.

  ‘So what’re you going to do, now?’ Rick asked. Again, the five-year-old making a childish pact over something meaningless.

  Daniel had switched off from Rick’s pathetic banter and was concerned about something else. Something Jody had mentioned. He flung the tool in a high sweeping arc to the back of the garden and decided Rick wasn’t worth the bother. There was something else he needed to do that was far more important.

  Chapter 56

  Franciska was clipping stems of vibrant blue delphiniums when he and Ben arrived. She left the flowers in tap water in the washing-up bowl and carried freshly-made lemonade out to a cast iron table on the back patio. It was one of those days that felt like it was beyond spring, yet not quite summer.

  ‘A jumper for Ben,’ she said, lifting up the baggy woollen shape on the patio table. ‘Only, I’ve gone wrong somewhere.’ She let it roll into a heap and poured Ben a glass of lemonade, then turned to Daniel. ‘Coffee for you?’

  ‘No. I don’t want anything.’

  ‘Has something happened?’ She scrutinised his face.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Sounds ominous,’ she said, shifting newspapers so they could sit on the double swing seat.

  Daniel turned to Ben who was drawing his finger through the icy condensation on the outside of the jug. He watched him push down a cluster of ice cubes that were bobbing on the surface of the lemonade. As he tried to lift one out, it ducked away from his fingers.

  ‘Too hot, Daddy,’ he said and drew away from the table.

  ‘I think you mean too cold,’ said Daniel cheerlessly.

  Ben found a spot under the yellow parasol that was stabbed into the grass, flapping in the faint breeze. He pulled a racing car out of his pocket, sat down and started making ‘brum-brum’ noises.

  Franciska and Daniel set the swing in motion simultaneously with their feet.

  ‘Give me a minute,’ he said, lifting his face up to the pale sky. His hands were shaking.

  He took a breath. ‘A woman I met recently told me she discovered her sister was actually her half-sister. Her mother slept once with the local vet. Turned out she’d kept it secret for years.’

  Franciska looked at him as though she was expecting some kind of punchline.

  ‘Things have been so surreal lately. So many certainties have gone up in smoke. I needed to know.’

  ‘Needed to know what?’

  Finally, he said it. ‘I’ve taken a paternity test.’

  ‘You’ve what?’ She flung herself forward, grabbing hold of the metal frame of the swing as if she was falling through the air.

  It was such a simple process to request a check. To ask for a yes or no that would have unimaginable ramifications for his identity, his future, his entire world. The best result or the worst result, like flipping a penny. A fifty-fifty chance.

  Within a few days he’d know the truth.

  Chapter 57

  The shopping mall was full of screaming kids and equally raucous mothers trying to keep them in check. Rick was nearly run down by two pushchairs as he made his way to the centre of the ground floor. The seating area had been cordoned off with mock ranch fencing wrapped with plastic ivy to make it look like the place had class. Stylish it wasn’t. Cheap it was.

  He found a table and a waitress, with the words ‘Hot and Steamy’ ironed onto her apron stood over him. He hoped it referred to the drinks, because it certainly wasn’t referring to the woman who wore it. He checked his watch and ordered two cups of tea. They arrived in plastic cups just as Stuart turned up. Behind his right lens was a whopping black eye.

  ‘You been messing around with someone else’s girl?’ asked Rick.

  Stuart avoided his stare. ‘Nah. Walked into a wall.’

  Considering the usual filthy state of Stuart’s glasses, it wasn’t so unbelievable. ‘This wall have big knuckles, eh?’

  ‘This for me?’ Stuart turned up his nose and pulled out a white plastic chair. ‘Is this what you meant when you said you were treating me to afternoon tea?’

  ‘Got another business opportunity for you,’ said Rick, ignoring the snub.

  Stuart watched as Rick drew something on a scrap of paper before turning it round and pushing it towards him. It soaked up old drips of coffee as it slid across the table.

  Stuart tried to whistle, but instead sent spittle over the drinks.

  ‘You planning on robbing a bank or something?’

  ‘Not exactly.’

  Stuart studied the diagram. ‘Aluminium?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Two, the same, right?

  ‘That would be the idea.’

  Stuart looked like he was waiting for Rick to tell him more, but it wasn’t forthcoming.

  ‘Just keep your mouth shut about this, all right?’ Rick stretched out his legs. ‘More tea?’

  ‘And one of those Chelsea buns,’ said Stuart.

  Rick waved his arm and the same waitress came back. She huffed a loud breath and pulled the pencil out from behind her ear. When she’d gone Rick asked him how long the job would take.

  Stuart absently stroked the edge of his bruise. ‘Dunno, it depends on getting the right materials and I’ll need a workshop.’

  ‘So, what are we saying?’

  ‘A week, two weeks max.’

  Rick considered it.

  ‘A week tops – no longer.’

  ‘You planning on leaving the country if this bank job goes wrong?’

  ‘It’s not a bank job. And no, I’m not leaving the country. If I can help it.’

  Stuart screwed up his eyes, no doubt speculating on the secret Rick had up his sleeve.

  ‘I haven’t seen a penny from our last job yet,’ said Rick.

  ‘Yeah. Well, it’s only just gone into Hank’s antiques place on Portobello Road.’

  ‘Any hiccups getting it to look authentic?’

  ‘Tricky job. Took longer than expected.’

  ‘Mmm…’ Of course it did. He
was bound to say that, thought Rick, toying with a toothpick. ‘A cut up front would be a nice gesture. If you’ve made a decent enough job of it, that watch should be snapped up in no time.’

  ‘How about the coat off my back?’ Stuart snorted. ‘You want that too?’

  He was beginning to rise above his station. Rick decided it was time to put him back in his place.

  ‘That won’t be necessary. Just don’t forget who owes who in the long run here, will you?’

  The smug smile on Stuart’s face faded. Just as well Rick had a hold over him. Ever since the day Stuart misjudged how long it would take him to get over a wall carrying a framed oil painting. It wouldn’t be every day Stuart came across someone willing to give him a solid alibi, just when the police were breathing down his neck.

  ‘Our business is done here,’ said Rick.

  ‘Wait. We haven’t fixed a price.’

  ‘Hundred and fifty quid, all in.’

  ‘Hundred and fifty each.’

  ‘Deal.’

  Rick knew it was going to be money well spent. Although he’d never let on to anyone, in his current situation the cliché, ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ fitted him like a glove.

  Chapter 58

  Franciska was already at the front door. She must have been waiting at the window for his car.

  ‘You’ve brought Ben?’ she said, sending up her eyebrows in bewilderment as Daniel unclipped the car seat. She stared at Daniel’s face as though trying to read if there was some sort of message in Ben’s presence.

  ‘Edith was busy,’ Daniel said lightly.

  She led them through to the garden. There were no newspapers on the double swing this time; she was ready for him.

  Franciska fussed over her grandson, getting him settled on the grass with a drink of juice and a carton of fat crayons.