Bright Lies: A Chilling Psychological Thriller Page 19

  I’m desperate for heating, and hot water out of a tap. Even TV and broadband are impossible luxuries right now.

  Jack sighs. “Whoa. I’d like to, but how much have you saved? I’ve got two hundred quid. We’ll need at least a grand.”

  My bubble deflates. “Fifty pounds.”

  Jack winces. “Never mind. We’ll crush it in December. Both of us are working non-stop. Just don’t blow all your wages on coke, or my Christmas presents.” He adds, “Joke.”

  I shiver, remembering all the Christmases with Mum: the lovingly decorated tree brought down from the loft each year, the handmade presents, and the turkey dinner she had scrimped and saved to afford. Last time, in David’s mansion, we drank champagne all day. His gifts cost hundreds of pounds. I don’t have any of them now.

  Blinking away a tear, I struggle with the knowledge that I betrayed both Mum and myself when I fell for David.

  Jack misunderstands. He switches off the hotplate and reaches across to squeeze my arm. “It’s just for a month and bit, Emily. We’ll be out of here in January.”

  “You’re right.” I make a pretence of a smile. “You know, you’ve ruined that pancake.”

  “I’d better eat my mistake, then.” Jack scrapes it out of the frying pan in pieces. “Mind taking over?”

  The batter stretches to one more each. I find a scrap for Penny, who sits companionably between me and Jack on the mattress. Contentment floods through me. I pat my full stomach and tickle the cat’s ears. Penny purrs, the blissful sound filling the velvet tent.

  “Look.”

  As I follow the line of Jack’s pointing finger, the light flickers. Penny stops purring and springs to attention.

  A large moth flutters in the table lamp’s beam, a blur of fawn-coloured fairy wings. “It’s a bobowler,” Jack says, with a grin. He laughs, as my bewilderment must be obvious. “A local word. You work in a club called the Bobowlers, so haven’t you ever wondered what it meant?”

  The blush returns. Just as I’ve stopped feeling like a stranger in this city, it turns out there’s more to learn. They even have their own language.

  “I thought it was someone’s surname. Like Oli’s gran, perhaps.”

  It isn’t our boss’s, because there’s a small black and white sign above the club door saying that Oliver Gunn is licensed to sell alcohol.

  “Now you know.” Jack stands, retrieving a plastic carrier bag from a neatly folded pile under the desk. “I’m going to catch it and let it go outside. There’s nothing for a bobowler here.”

  “It could eat the blankets.” Most of them have suspicious holes already.

  “Not this one. It’s too large to be a clothes moth. Shrubs and flowers are what it needs.”

  “Good luck finding them in Digbeth.”

  “There’s more greenery than you might think, Emily. Weeds grow beside the railway lines and canals, even in the gutters of this building.”

  He watches the creature intently. It settles on the lightbulb. Jack holds the bag open above it, then blows hard from below. Losing its grip, the bobowler is swept into his trap. Jack twists the handles together so there’s no way out. “See you later.”

  I hear him descend the ladder, open the door and walk into the alleyway. It’s a while before he’s back.

  “What took you so long?”

  “I walked around the corner and released the moth in a carpark. You know, the pound a day place with bushes poking through the tarmac.” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t bear to see it cooped up here. We humans are too good at making cages for ourselves. My father built a prison in his head way before he was banged up for real.”

  “Is he still there? Would he come looking for you?” I’m losing my fear of Jack, but his father spells trouble.

  “I don’t know if he’s still inside. We lost touch.” Jack clenches his fists.

  I flinch.

  “Oh, Emily, I’m sorry. I’m not annoyed with you. My issues are with my dad. Why would he look for me? Right up until the last time I saw him, the day he took my mother away, he had no interest in his children. We were just pests getting under his feet.” He bites his lower lip.

  Do men cry? Right now, Jack seems on the brink. Without stopping to think, I hug him.

  “Hey.” Jack steps back. We’re still in a loose embrace, but he’s facing me. “If you’re worried about him, don’t be. My dad won’t turn up on our doorstep and I’d have nothing to do with him if he did. He may leave jail, but he’ll never be free until he stops drinking. And that will never happen.”

  He’s managed to hold it together. No tears escape his eyes.

  “I’m here for you,” I whisper.

  “I know. Thanks.”

  My arms are still draped around him, near enough to smell the syrup on his breath and the coconutty scent of the gym’s shampoo. The physical closeness sends a tingle through me. Gazing into his eyes, I long for a kiss.

  Jack brings his lips towards mine.

  Like a ghost, David’s face appears in front of me, his mouth twisted into a sneer, his gaze intense. I pull away, stifling a scream.

  “What’s wrong?” David has vanished again. Jack is back, his expression a mixture of sadness and concern.

  “I’m sorry, Jack. It’s not you, it’s me. I like you, but―”

  “Not that way?”

  I shake my head. “I do, but it’s too soon.”

  I can tell he doesn’t believe me. Cringing at the hurt in his eyes, freaked by my hallucination, I collect the washing up and retreat down the ladder.

  Chapter 42 December 2016 – Emily

  “Don’t say a word.” Cassie, dressed as an elf, marches through the door and straight to the cloakroom counter.

  In spite of her warning, I can’t resist. “Why the outfit?”

  She glares at me. “It’s Christmas.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t realise your dad’s works party was fancy dress.” I chew my lip. Of all the December events at the Bob’s, this is the one I fear the most.

  Cassie’s expression softens. “It’ll be okay. Those two bastards who attacked you aren’t on the guest list. I’ll see the others behave.”

  “Thanks. I’ll cope, then. So long as they’re not as bad as the engineering students last month.” Tension spikes through me again as I recall my conversation with Oli the next day. I think of Mum’s emotional TV interview.

  Oli hasn’t mentioned any more media coverage. Surely he’d tell me if the police were closing in?

  “Ray and the Ravers aren’t coming tonight, by the way,” Cassie says. “That’s why I’m wearing this stupid outfit. I’ve had to arrange alternative entertainment at the last minute. Christmas karaoke, with me as the MC.”

  “Bad luck.” I sympathise. On any other night, Jack would have helped, but one of his friends has asked him to DJ at an event in the countryside. He’s already been picked up in a battered red van.

  Cassie’s face flushes. “That’s the last time I’ll hire Ray Cross. His agent phoned me this afternoon and said he was very sorry, but the Ravers were double-booked. Got a better offer, no doubt. Well, once word gets out, we’ll see how much work they get from now on.”

  She drives a hard bargain. Although Oli’s her boyfriend, she insisted on a 50% discount for drinks at the Bob’s. It will bring the cost down to pub prices.

  Cassie reaches under the waistband of her bright green trousers, unzipping a money belt. “Anyway, good news. The gallery sold your first painting. I’ve got to run, so I wanted to give you the cash now.”

  “Awesome.” I smile with excitement, eagerly accepting five crisp ten-pound notes. “Thanks,” I remember to say as I stuff them in the pocket of my jeans.

  “Another buyer is collecting a picture tomorrow, so you’ll have more soon.”

  “Could you me a favour, Cassie? Can you get me vodka with some of the money, please? Tesco’s is about a tenner a bottle, so two of those would be good.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Are you su
re? You know Jack’s attitude to booze.”

  “Please. This month is hard for me and it’ll help me cope. Jack doesn’t need to know.” I’ll hide the alcohol in my art box with Oli’s drugs.

  Cassie nods. “Okay, I’ll do it. Look, you could use a drink tonight, couldn’t you? What would you like from the bar? I’ll twist their arms.”

  Chapter 43 December 2016 - Emily

  Georgia has an elbow on the cloakroom counter, although she’s informed me curtly that she doesn’t have a coat. While I’m not important enough for a conversation, she’s happy to chat to Oli. He’s making small talk about holidays and staring at her breasts. At least he hasn’t nudged her under the mistletoe hanging over the club’s entrance.

  It’s understood that she’ll be taking Jack home, to Moseley, which is smart like Harborne. This will be the third time he’s left the Bobowlers with her. Jealousy sears through me, although when I asked him if the pretty brunette was his girlfriend, he shrugged. Sometimes, I glance at him and catch him looking at me. I’m attracted to him, but that terrifies me. If we get close, David’s ghost might jump between us again. I can’t bear to see it. Worse, I don’t know how to explain to Jack.

  Security Sam dashes inside. “Where’s Jack?”

  Georgia ignores the question. “Is my Uber here?” she asks him, swiping her phone to check at the same time.

  Sam shakes his head. “No, sorry, bab. I need to talk to Jack.” He heads into the club to find him.

  It’s quarter past three. I hand coats to the last punters, smiling at them while wishing they’d hurry up. Still, the ashtray is overflowing with tips: Christmas Eve has been a bumper night. I begin to count it before taking the money to Jodie. She’s supposed to put half through the till and give half back. I’m convinced she creams off a cut for herself, but I’ve never actually spotted her doing it.

  “Hey, Emily.” Oli is beaming. “Keep it all tonight. Call it your Christmas bonus.”

  I’m so thrilled, I fling my arms around him. “Thank you.”

  Georgia sneers. Jack, emerging with Sam, looks less than impressed.

  “I’m sure it’s yours,” Sam is saying. “Black and white, yeah?”

  “What’s up?” I ask Jack.

  He rushes past us. Puzzled, I follow him outside. Fog is already swirling in the street, sending a damp chill through me although the temperature is mild. Under a shroud of mist, Jack kneels on the ground next to a furry bundle.

  “There’s no pulse!” He lifts an agonised face towards me. His fingers are still feeling the cat’s chest.

  “How do you take a moggy’s pulse?” Sam says, not unkindly. He places a large hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Man, I’m really sorry. It was a hit and run. Nothing we could do for her.”

  “Him. Penny was a him.” Jack stands up. He’s shaking, drained of all colour. Blood trickles down his fingers.

  I bite my lip. Although I want to cry, Jack doesn’t need that right now.

  An Uber-branded saloon draws to a halt, nearly mowing Jack and Sam down in the process. The driver gets out. “This is a road, right?”

  Sam stands up straight, revealing his height and bulk. “So?”

  “Sorry.” The man returns to his car sheepishly. If it weren’t for Penny lying mashed up by the roadside, I would laugh.

  Georgia teeters through the door on her taxi heels. “Jack, it’s my cab. Get in.”

  “I’m sorry, George, I can’t. Not now.” Jack’s voice is trembling with distress. He points to the tiny corpse. “It’s Penny.”

  “You can’t be serious.” She makes no effort to hide her scorn.

  “Another time, George? Merry Christmas.”

  Purse-lipped, she ignores his torment, slamming the car door behind her.

  As the car zips around the corner, Sam grimaces. “Gorgeous Georgia isn’t happy. You stood her up for a dead cat, mate.”

  Jack gapes at him. “Guess that would hit her self-esteem.”

  “There won’t be another time with that one,” Sam says.

  “Plenty more fish.” Jack says. “Ems, I’ll be going back home with you after all.”

  “Go back in and wash that blood off,” Sam says. “I’ll take care of this.” He gestures to the cat.

  “Give me five, Ems,” Jack says. “I have to see Oli too. He hasn’t paid me yet.”

  “I’ve got to clean up anyway.” Oli doesn’t want to reopen the building for a week, so I have to fix the worst of the mess tonight of all nights.

  Following Jack inside, I tidy up the cloakroom, unblock the toilets and stick bleach in them, and mop the dancefloor. I’m exhausted by the time we walk back to the printworks. It’s been a long evening and a long month.

  Once we’re out of Sam’s view, I squeeze Jack’s hand. “Hey, Jack.”

  “Thanks, Ems.” He holds on tight. I try to ignore the magnetic pull towards him, as, silently, we approach the alleyway.

  Jack releases my hand to take out his keys. A black and white streak dashes past us and stops, mewing, by the door.

  Open-mouthed, I stare at the cat’s markings. All the white patches are in the right places, but it’s like seeing a ghost. At least this one is friendly.

  Jack unlocks the building and puts on the light. “Find the rat, Penny.”

  The animal races inside.

  Jack smiles, disbelieving but clearly elated. “Yeah, definitely Penny.”

  “That must have been another cat outside the Bob’s.” I try to forget the forlorn little body.

  “Now I think about it, his legs looked different,” Jack fingers his chin, yawning. “It’s been a hard night. Still, whether Pen used one of his nine lives or not, his arrival is a nice Christmas present.”

  “The best,” I agree.

  “Mind if we go straight to bed? I’m volunteering tomorrow at the homeless shelter.”

  I’d forgotten he’d agreed to serve meals on Christmas Day. Now, I glance at him sharply. “Just as well you didn’t go back with Georgia, then.”

  He has the grace to be ashamed. “Not my brightest idea.”

  We leave Penny to scurry around in search of rodents. Jack climbs the ladder and switches on the lamp and heater. Warm air curls around me when I join him a few seconds later.

  “I’m so relieved about Penny.” Jack hugs me and kisses my cheek. “Thanks for being there when I needed you. I’m glad you’re my friend.”

  “I’m glad you’re my friend too.” I look into his eyes, finding it hard to stop as I bask in their kindness. Hesitantly, I say, “I could be more than a friend.”

  “Are you making me an offer?”

  Suddenly fearful of rejection, I nod shyly. “Is that okay?”

  In answer, Jack strokes the top of my bare head, his fingers gently moving down to caress the nape of my neck.

  My senses are aflame by the time he lowers his face and presses his lips to mine. If Cassie’s kiss had been a wake-up call, this one is an explosion. Jack fills every part of my awareness, and the phantoms of my past don’t stand a chance anymore. Dizzy with the feel and taste of him, I nudge Jack towards his mattress.

  Chapter 44 December 2016 - Emily

  I wake to the sensation of light, warmth and my cheek being stroked. Eyes snapping open, I see Jack kneeling over me.

  “Merry Christmas.” He bends forward to kiss me tenderly. “Want coffee and toast?”

  “I’ll cook breakfast.” I push him gently away so I can sit up. As I shrug off the duvet, I’m grateful for the balmy air from the fan heater.

  “Not yet.” Jack envelops me in his arms. He kisses me again.

  I feel a swell of affection for him. If he wasn’t committed to volunteering today, I’d pull him back down onto the mattress. We wanted each other so much last night that our union was quick and intense. I had no protection, and to my relief, Jack produced a condom and insisted on using it.

  Although I hate to think of David for even one second, I can’t help comparing them. Now, it’s apparent that David
only cared about his own needs. Jack is so different.

  “You’re tensing up,” he says. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” I pull a face, unwilling to share my thoughts. “I’m going to miss you today, Jack.”

  “They’d take another volunteer at the homeless shelter. I know everyone’s supposed to be DBS checked, but I can pull strings if you want to help.”

  I shake my head. “I’d rather be by myself.” Really, I’d rather be with him, but I’m not guilt-tripping him into staying.

  Jack’s eyes flicker with concern. “Look, you don’t talk about your family, and it’s okay not to. I respect that. You can’t have been happy, or you wouldn’t have ended up in Brum with a backpack. But Christmas isn’t a day for being alone.” He sighs. “That’s why I signed up to help out at the shelter. I wish I hadn’t now.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” I throw on yesterday’s clothes: the sparkly blue T-shirt and jeans I wore at the club. As an afterthought, I add a chunky grey jumper, a cast-off from Cassie. It will be freezing downstairs. I grab kettle, towel, washbag and a change of underwear, and teeter down the ladder.

  The huge, dusty space below isn’t as cold as I feared. This December has been mild for Birmingham; everyone at the club has remarked on it. Even so, the blast of cold water from the tap causes me to wince as I freshen up.

  Yawning, I examine my face in the scabby mirror hanging above the sink. Exhausted eyes stare back at me from pale skin. I’ve been working all month without a break. It’s been a blessing: despite the festive glitter, I’ve had little time to dwell on memories. It’s different today.

  A lump rises in my throat. Mum will be unwrapping gifts without me for the first time in my life. I hope David is still kind to her. The fear I’ve tried to keep buried grips me: that David only married Mum because she had a teenage daughter. That’s why he married Nikki too. His charm and generosity were just part of a calculating plan.

  My knees buckle, forcing me to grip the side of the sink. A sob bubbles upwards, changing into a full-blown howl. Penny appears, mewing and then smoothing himself against my legs.