The Make

‘No!’ she snapped. ‘I don’t want your dodgy heavies, and I don’t want you. Clear?’

She spent the morning replying to as many of the emails from George’s clients as she could manage, telling them that George was in hospital after an assault and that if they had any ideas about how George had ended up that way, or if they knew the whereabouts of Harry, would they please let her (his sister) know? She put her mobile number on the emails.

Lorcan came into George’s bedroom after about an hour and stood behind her, looking at the screen.

‘They won’t reply,’ he said. ‘They’ve used an escort service. It’s a dodgy sort of business. They might feel ashamed, worried their families will find out. You won’t get a damned thing out of them.’

Gracie turned in her chair and stared at him. ‘You got a better idea?’ she asked.

Lorcan shrugged and went back into the lounge.

She didn’t hear him go out all morning, so she assumed he was still in the flat. As it got towards lunchtime she heard him making phone calls. She felt reassured, which was damned annoying, but how could you help what you felt?

He reappeared at one o’clock. ‘Let’s go out, get some lunch,’ he said.

‘Can’t. Busy,’ said Gracie, tapping away at the keyboard.

‘Okay, I’m going to lunch. It’s Christmas Eve. Why don’t you, in the spirit of the season, join me, you stubborn cow? I’m extending an olive branch here or some fucking thing.’

‘No, you go,’ said Gracie, not looking round.

‘You’ll be okay here on your own?’ he asked.

‘I’m a big girl, Lorcan.’

‘Fine. Give me a spare key, you got one?’

Gracie stretched over to her bag, which was on the bed. Rummaged in there, and came up with a set of spares. Handed it to Lorcan. ‘Round one’s the outer door, square one’s the inner.’

‘Thanks,’ he said, not entirely without sarcasm.

She heard him go down the hall and out. She sat there staring at the screen as the silence of the flat settled around her. Finally, she switched off. Went through to the lounge. Wondered if she’d get any replies. Thought that there was every possibility that the clever bastard was right and that no one was going to risk getting dragged into something messy by saying a damned thing. She could only hope he’d be proved wrong. For a change.

So what now?

She couldn’t just stay in here stagnating.

A flashback of last night came into her brain. The bone-chilling cold of the snow, Lorcan picking her up, thawing her out. She felt a shudder go right through her. Anything could have happened to her. He was right. But she couldn’t just hide away in here. She refused to.

She snatched up her coat and bag and headed out the door. She’d pick up a taxi in the high street, go join the throng and do some late Christmas shopping. It was a novelty to say the least. She didn’t do Christmas shopping, as a rule, but she could buy something for Suze, maybe cheer her up just a little. It was broad daylight and she was getting restless. She couldn’t come to any harm.

Outside, the air was chilly. The snow was piling like icing on a cake up on the verges. Underfoot, there was grit and some slush, but it was okay so she started walking along the road, but then she realized that there was a man sitting in a parked car across the street, watching her.

When he saw her head turn in his direction he slumped down and lifted a paper and appeared to be examining it intensely. Gracie felt her heart start to stampede in her chest like a bolting horse. It was a hideous feeling. If he got out and ran at her, what the hell would she do?

She walked on a few paces, and whipped her head round quick, and sure enough he was watching her, he was. It could be the same one who’d hit her last night, the one who’d been trying to drag her away and do God knows what to her . . .

‘Gracie!’

She halted and gave a small shriek, nearly quivering with terror. Lorcan was getting out of the black BMW up ahead.

Gracie clutched her chest and hurried up to him.

‘That man,’ she said, teeth chattering with cold and fear.

‘What man?’ Lorcan was looking around.

‘In the fucking car, Lorcan. He’s watching me.’ Gracie nodded towards the car and its skulking occupant.

‘Him?’ Lorcan shrugged. ‘Don’t get your pants up your crack, Gracie. He’s one of ours.’

‘He’s . . .’ Gracie’s mouth had dropped open. She tried to get the words out, but couldn’t.

‘One of ours,’ repeated Lorcan. ‘One of the mob boys, anyway. I made a few calls this morning. Got some muscle on George’s hospital door, and your auntie Vera’s, and yours. Where are you going?’

‘You didn’t listen to a damned word I said in there, did you? I told you I didn’t want this.’

‘Want it or not, Gracie, you got it.’

She stared at him in consternation. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh, kiss him or smack him hard upside the head. ‘I thought you’d be long gone.’

‘Nah, I was waiting for you. Knew you’d push it, Gracie. I knew you’d come out. So where shall we go for lunch?’

‘So tell me what you learned this morning,’ said Lorcan as they sat in a densely crowded restaurant.

They’d ordered the set menu of the day – Christmas lunch and all the trimmings.

‘It’ll be fucking horrible, it always is,’ predicted Lorcan cheerfully when the waiter had taken their order and hurried off. ‘Have you ever had a decent Christmas lunch in a restaurant?’

‘No,’ said Gracie, and thought of the Christmas Eves they’d spent together in the past. Out to lunch – and he was right, every one of them had been indigestible – then home to bed.

Mustn’t think about that now.

‘We always used to go out to lunch, then home to bed,’ he went on, pouring out the wine.

Fuck it. ‘Well we won’t be doing that today,’ said Gracie icily.

‘You know what?’

‘What?’

‘I think that’s a shame.’

Gracie nearly choked on her house white. ‘You what?’

Lorcan shrugged. ‘Well, as we’re getting so close to the divorce courts, it’d be nice to end things on a bang, don’t you think? Instead of a whimper.’

Gracie was shaking her head. ‘No. That’s not a good idea. I don’t want to start muddying the waters. You’ve made your intentions plain. You want rid. Fair enough. Rid you shall have.’

‘Actually I’m not entirely certain about that.’

Now Gracie really did choke.

‘Steady,’ he said.

‘Look, can we drop this?’ wheezed Gracie.

‘Water?’

Gracie nodded and he poured from the jug.

‘So, dropping it. Fine. What did you find out this morning?’

‘Nothing much.’ Gracie’s eyes were watering. What the hell was he playing at? She had to wrench her mind away from what he’d just said, and from the images that had started dancing in her brain as a result of it. ‘Sandy Cole’s a bit of a curiosity, though,’ she managed.

‘Sandy? The girl at the hospital, the one who’s engaged to George?’

‘That’s the one. She sent George a lot of emails, saying what a great time she’d had with him.’

‘Well . . . so what? Obviously they’ve got closer than a client/worker relationship calls for, which happens, and now they’re engaged.’

‘Yeah, only . . .’ Gracie hesitated, thinking. ‘. . . The thing is, Mum didn’t have a clue about their engagement.’

‘Maybe they wanted to keep it secret until they were absolutely sure?’