'Who's the guy with his arm around her shoulder?' I asked Angelo.
'That's her brother, Gideon, and don't let him catch you staring at his sister,' Angelo warned me. 'And I'll tell you something else. Gideon is a mean one, but he's a teddy bear compared to his younger brother, Owen.'
'Why? What's Owen like?'
'Ambitious. Focused. Ruthless.'
'Where is he? Is he here tonight?'
'He's the one in the blue suit who just walked in.' Angelo pointed discreetly.
I tried to get a good look at Owen, but only caught a glimpse before Rebecca hugged him. The place was beginning to fill up so it was tricky to get more than a partial view. I walked a couple of steps forward to get a better look, memorizing his face before I headed back to the bar.
'Why the interest in Gideon and Owen?' Angelo asked.
'I don't want to get into trouble by stepping on the wrong toes,' I replied.
Apparently Vanessa Dowd wasn't going to be present. Angelo told me that she very rarely ventured out of her house. From what he said, Vanessa Dowd sounded like a puppet-master, working from on high and pulling everyone's strings, including those of her own family. Especially those of her own family. It was time to get to work. I turned back to the bar to retrieve my tray and headed for the crowd that was growing by the second.
By midnight, Rebecca Dowd's eighteenth birthday party was in full swing. The music was blaring, the Club was heaving and most of the guests were already off their heads. Canapés and finger foods were doing the rounds, but the food wasn't as popular as the drink. My job was to weave in and out of the crowd with a tray full of assorted drinks, allowing empty glasses to be swapped for full ones. Every time my tray contained more empty glasses than full ones, I had to head back to the bar for more drinks. No one had to pay for a thing. Food and drink were on the house – or rather, on the Dowds. Looking around, I figured there had to be close to one hundred people in the Club – mostly Crosses, but at least a fifth of those present were Noughts. I wondered how many of them were Rebecca Dowd's real friends. My guess was ten or less.
Within the space of an hour my bum had been pinched purple and there wasn't a centimetre of my body that hadn't been thoroughly groped. Now I understood Angelo's titanium underwear warning. But my pockets were also being stuffed with money – amongst other things, like a few phone numbers. I didn't feel the least bit guilty about the money. Way I saw it, I was earning it and then some. When at last midnight rolled around, my head was pounding and I was about ready to drop. It was my break time so it was now or never. I weaved through the crowds, seeking my quarry. At last I found him, leaning against a closed door. Taking a deep breath, I walked straight up to him.
'Mr Dowd, may I speak to you?' I had to really raise my voice to be heard.
'About what?' Owen Dowd frowned.
'Alex McAuley.'
That got his attention. 'What about him?'
'May I speak to you in private?'
Owen Dowd looked at me, really looked at me.
'It'll be worth five minutes of your time,' I said. 'I promise.'
Owen took a key out of his jacket pocket and unlocked the door behind him. Once the door was open, he waved me in ahead of him. He wasn't taking any chances. I walked in and spun round immediately. I wasn't taking any chances either. Owen switched on the light and shut the door behind him with an ominous click. The sounds of the Club stopped immediately, like a radio being switched off. The room had to be soundproofed. I glanced around. It was a tiny office, with a poster-sized window behind an undersized desk. The window was covered with a dark-grey vertical blind which was shut. On the desk were scattered a few sand-coloured folders and a desktop computer sat self-consciously on one side. The floor was carpeted, a navy-blue carpet which made the room look even smaller.
'Now then, what's your name?' asked Owen.
'Tobey Durbridge,' I replied.
'So what's all this about?' said Owen. 'And it'd better be good or you're going to find yourself out of a job.'
So without wasting any more time, I told him.
I only had five minutes left of my break. The restaurant was closed and I didn't fancy chatting to anyone in the changing rooms, so I headed up the stairs to the flat roof, hoping fervently that the door would be open. It was.
The moment I stepped outside, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. After the heated chaos of the Club and the atmosphere in the air there, up here was cool and fresh. The air-conditioning unit sat hulking in the middle of the roof, growling away like some great wounded animal. I walked to the nearest edge to peer over the side. Beneath my feet, I could feel the music thumping, vibrating through my body. I looked up. The stars were the furthest away they'd ever been. I looked down. Two storeys down to the ground. The longer I stared, the closer the pavement seemed to get. But I didn't want to look away. This was better than looking up and only seeing Callie looking down at me, blood spilling over her chest. Better this than closing my eyes and seeing Callie in the hospital as the nurses and doctors fought to bring her back to life.
'Are you going to jump?'
The woman's voice had me spinning round. It was Rebecca Dowd, standing beside the air-conditioning unit. How long had she been up here? I stared at her like I'd lost my mind. Rebecca smiled, amused at my goldfish impersonation. I snapped my lips together and tried to look like my IQ was greater than my shoe size.
'Sorry,' I said ruefully. 'You took me by surprise.'
'You're not going to jump, are you?' Rebecca sounded worried.
'The thought hadn't crossed my mind, no.'
'Good.' Rebecca breathed a huge sigh of relief. 'Because I'd have to try and talk you out of it and I'm useless at that kind of thing.'
'Fair enough.' I smiled, and looked up at the night sky again, drinking in the peace above before I had to head back down to the throng below.
'Are you OK?' asked Rebecca. 'You look . . . out of it.'
'I'm fine. Just a million kilometres away.'
'Nowhere pleasant by the look on your face.'
'I'm just missing my girlfriend,' I admitted.
'Oh? Where is she?'
How to answer that one? 'We're not together any more.'
'Oh. I'm sorry.'
I shrugged. Time to change the subject. 'So what brings you up here?'
Rebecca sighed, walking over to me. 'I came up a while ago for some peace and quiet.'
'Me too,' I said. 'But if I'm disturbing you I can leave.'
'No, that's OK. You can stay.'
I smiled. 'I'm Tobey.'
'Becks,' said Rebecca, holding out her hand.
I stepped forward to shake it.
'Hi, Becks. So what d'you think of the party then?'
'It's OK.' Rebecca's response was distinctly lukewarm. 'I'm not really a party person. What about you? What d'you think of it?'
'Well, I'm not exactly a guest,' I pointed out, indicating my waiter's uniform.
'All the better to get an objective opinion,' Rebecca replied.
I considered. 'I'm not really a party person either. I'd much rather see a good film and go for a meal afterwards.'
'Me too.'
Rebecca and I shared a smile.
'But as parties go, most of the people downstairs seem to be enjoying themselves. Mind you, in the morning they won't remember whether the party was good, bad or indifferent.'
'Yeah, so what's the point?' said Rebecca, antipathy in her voice.
'Excuse my asking, but aren't you Rebecca Dowd? Isn't it your birthday party?'
'It's supposed to be, but it's more for my mum's benefit than mine. My party will appear in all the right celebrity magazines and a tabloid or two, with photos of all the usual suspects, and Mum will deem my party a success.'
'The usual suspects?' I queried.
'All those people who would go to the opening of a fridge door as long as it got their faces in the papers and the gossip mags.'
I contemplated Rebecca. I'd thought she'
d be some spoiled little princess who thought the sun revolved around her and who'd have nothing worse to bleat about than the merest wrinkle in her dress or a scuff mark on her shoes.
'What?' Rebecca ran her hand over her hair.
'Nothing. I just . . . you're not what I expected,' I said.
'Is that good or bad?'
'Definitely good.' I smiled.
We stood for a few moments looking out across the centre of town. The traffic, the lights from the buildings, the occasional siren, they were all just background, but vibrant background. I wanted to reach out my hand, snatch it all up and put it in my trouser pocket. But I deliberately turned my back on it to face Rebecca.
'So what did you get for your birthday?' I asked.
Rebecca's hand moved self-consciously to her neck. 'This necklace – amongst other things.'
'It's beautiful.'
'D'you really like it?' she asked doubtfully.
'Well, I wouldn't wear it,' I replied. 'But it looks good on you.'
'I thought it was a bit . . . ostentatious, but Mum insisted that I should wear it.'
'There are worse things to wear,' I said.
I deliberately took a step closer. Rebecca didn't back away. I lifted the necklace away from her neck for a better look. The metal beneath my fingers still held the warmth of her skin. The necklace was either white gold or platinum. I'd've put my money on the latter. It certainly wasn't mere silver. Adorning the chain was a cross set with at least nine diamonds and I reckoned each diamond had to be at least half a carat. Not that I'm into diamonds or anything like that, but I did occasionally glance in the odd jeweller's shop window with dreams about the watches I could buy myself and the everything else I would buy Callie if I ever had any money. Rebecca's necklace would've been dazzling around Callie's neck, complementing her beige skin.
'Tobey . . . ?'
I snapped out of my reverie and immediately released Rebecca's necklace. 'Sorry. I went offline.'
'Were you with your girlfriend again?'
I shrugged, not denying it.
'Did you love her?'
That was something . . . the one thing I couldn't lie about, couldn't even talk about.
'Like I said, it's over now.'
'Maybe you—'
'Tobey, what d'you think you're doing? Your break was over ten minutes ago.' Michelle looked about ready to fire my arse.
'Michelle, please don't blame Tobey. He was just being kind and keeping me company.'
'Oh, Miss Dowd. I'm so sorry. I didn't realize it was you.' Michelle did everything but curtsey.
'I do hope Tobey won't get into trouble because of me,' said Rebecca.
'Of course not,' Michelle hastened to reassure her. 'Tobey, take all the time you need.' She turned and headed for the door to go back downstairs.
'No, that's OK, Michelle. I'll get back to work,' I called out quickly. I wasn't ready to lose my job quite yet. I turned to Rebecca. 'It was nice to meet you, Becks.'
Michelle had already left the roof and was on her way back down to the Club. I guess it didn't pay to upset the Dowds, any of them.
'It's a shame we were interrupted. I was enjoying our chat,' said Rebecca.
Something in her voice made me stop. 'You make it sound like not a lot of people talk to you,' I said, surprised.
'They don't,' Rebecca replied. 'They talk at me or through me or around me. Very few people talk to me, and even less listen to what I have to say.'
'I like to listen,' I told her.
'I noticed that,' said Rebecca. 'Your girlfriend must be mad to dump you.'
I didn't bother to correct her.
'I'd better get back. I just hope I have the stamina to last until the party finishes.' I smiled to lighten my words, but more than meant them.
'Don't worry,' said Rebecca. 'I reckon this party only has another hour's life left in it – at most. Then you can go home.'
I sighed. 'Well, it'll take me nearly three hours to walk home from here, so that'll be something to look forward to.'
'Three hours? Why? Where d'you live?'
'Meadowview. But I didn't realize until I checked this afternoon that there are no night buses that run to where I live at this time on a Monday morning.'
'Oh, I see.'
'Anyway, enjoy the rest of your party, Becks.'
'I'll try,' Rebecca replied. 'It was nice talking to you.'
'You too,' I said. And I went back downstairs.
When I finally left the club it was nearly three in the morning. I'd be home long after dawn and all I wanted to do was crash into my bed now. My feet were killing me. What would they be like after a three-hour walk? Damn!
I'd even asked Michelle about kipping in the changing rooms until the buses started running again, but she shot that idea down in flames.
'You can't,' she told me. 'It's against health and safety regulations, plus you'd set off the alarms, plus Mr Dowd would never allow it.'
The fuss she made, I regretted ever asking her.
'Shouldn't've asked,' Angelo whispered to me. 'Should've just done it.'
Well, it was too late now.
After saying my goodbyes to the other waiters, I set off. The idea of sleeping in some doorway until my body, and especially my feet, recovered grew more and more appealing. I'd only been walking for a couple of minutes, though, when an executive saloon car pulled up beside me. The back window slid down.
'Hi, Tobey.' Rebecca leaned out to talk to me. 'Would you like a lift?'
I glanced past her to the Cross driver, who kept his eyes facing forward. I looked up and down the sleek lines of the luxury vehicle. A lift in this car? Hell, yes!
'Thanks, Rebecca.' I grinned. 'I'd love one.'
Rebecca Dowd was taking me home. What a strange night.
thirty-three
Mum nagged and nagged until I gave in and let her make me some mid-morning breakfast.
'I know your job pays well,' she said, 'but I'm not happy about the hours you have to work. You're a growing boy. You need regular sleep and proper meals.'
'Mum, you're fussing,' I sighed. 'And the job is only until school starts again. Until then I'll survive. And anyway, I'm not back at work until tomorrow night.'
Though to tell the truth, I was still so tired, all I wanted to do was get myself something to eat, then fall back into bed. Jessica was at work and Mum had one of her rare days off. When Mum wasn't working at the local hospital, she did agency nursing to make extra money. Jessica's college fees and all the extras I needed for school meant that she spent every spare hour working. One day that'd all change. I'd be the one looking after her and buying her all the things she deserved.
'I want you to give up your job a week before school starts. OK?' said Mum. 'You'll need to get back into the habit of sleeping at night and waking up at a reasonable hour each morning.'
'Yes, Mum,' I said.
It wasn't worth arguing. Besides, Mum needed to take her own advice more than I did. She was losing weight and was looking and acting distinctly brittle. Whilst Mum went off to make me something to eat, I had a quick shower.
After my wash, I put my pyjamas back on. Heading downstairs, I went into the living room. I switched on the TV and flicked from channel to channel, searching for something to watch. Mum walked in and handed me a plate with a fried egg toasted sandwich on it. She frowned at me.
'You do intend to have a shower sometime today, don't you?'
'I've already had one,' I replied smugly.
'And you put your pyjamas back on?' Mum's eyebrows were doing a disapproving dance.
'Yep!'
'How can you have a shower and put your jammies straight back on?' asked Mum.
'Like this, Mum,' I said, indicating my clothes. 'And what's more, I'm going back to bed after this.'
'All right for some,' Mum sniffed.
I took a bite out of my sandwich whilst using my other hand to change the TV channel again. I flicked onto a news bulletin and was about to kee
p flicking when Mum snatched the remote away from me.
'Leave it there,' she said quickly.
She sat down next to me to watch the news, sipping at the coffee she held in her other hand. I tucked into my food.
'. . . Earlier this morning the Liberation Militia set off a car bomb outside the Department of Industry and Commerce in Silver Square, only two kilometres from the Houses of Parliament. A warning was phoned through one hour before the bomb was due to explode. The emergency services had to evacuate all the surrounding buildings in the area. The car bomb was detonated in a controlled explosion by the army. No one was injured. We can now talk to the Minister for Commerce, Pearl Emmanuel, who is in our Westminster studio. Tell me, Minister, what do you think—?'
Mum pressed the button to switch off the TV.
'What on earth is wrong with those people?' She frowned.
'What d'you mean?' I asked, my half-eaten sandwich slowing on its way to my mouth. I looked at the blank screen. Why'd she turn it off ? Even the news was better than nothing.
'The Liberation Militia,' said Mum, almost angry. 'The Equal Rights bill is about to be passed. Why don't they give the government a chance?'
'Maybe they want to make sure this government doesn't go back on its word?' I ventured. After all, it had happened before with the last lot.
'Of course they won't break their promises,' said Mum. 'This government would have to be stupid or suicidal to withdraw the Equal Rights bill now. The Liberation Militia are about to get what they're supposedly fighting for. So why're they still blowing up stuff ?'
'Maybe they're trying to remind the government that they're still around and watching them?' I said, before taking another bite of my sandwich.
'If the L.M. aren't careful, they'll turn people against the bill. They're not helping our cause, not any more,' said Mum.
I took another bite of my sandwich.
'You know what this is?' she went on, eyes narrowed. 'It's the last gasp of a terrorist group who're about to become obsolete.'