“No!” The denial was instant, but even as I said it I realised the futility of such an argument in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary. Hadn’t I just proved my fear in a moment of adrenaline-fuelled rage and terror? “It’s not like that. I mean, I didn’t react like this the last time we . . . in Florida.” I broke off, embarrassed, totally muddled. “Well, it was fine.”
“Only ‘fine’?” Sean’s voice was lightly mocking. “Oh Charlie, you flatter me.”
But despite his attempt at humour I’d caught the flash of pain on his face. One that had nothing to do with the minor physical injuries I’d inflicted on him. I watched in anguish as he gathered back into himself, mentally bringing down the shutters.
I reached out an unsteady hand. “Sean—”
The drive alarm buzzer sounded so loudly in the hallway that it made both of us jump. The dogs kicked off again and Sean swore under his breath. He got to his feet and moved for the door, pausing to look down at me briefly as he passed.
“If we’re having visitors you might want to tidy up some,” he said, impassive, and went out.
I flushed, realising that my shirt was gaping open all the way down the front. My fingers fumbled with the buttons, then I hastily picked up the low table and set it back on its feet. When Sean returned I was on my hands and knees collecting bits of broken glass together.
“For you, I think,” Sean said blandly.
I looked up and found Sam hovering uncomfortably in the doorway. His eyes flicked nervously from my miserable face to Sean’s set and impenetrable features.
He cleared his throat. “Erm, have I come at a bad time?”
Eleven
“Of course not,” I said, determinedly bright. “Come on in, Sam. Can I get you some coffee?”
Sam gave Sean another anxious skim, wavered and almost fled. But he’d come for a purpose and that was enough to make him stand his ground, however hesitantly. He sidled further into the room. “Well, I know it’s late and I don’t want to put you out or—”
“Just sit down and have a bloody drink,” Sean said tiredly.
Sam’s knees gave way at the deadly quiet in his voice. It was lucky there was an armchair behind him at the time.
“Oh, erm, yeah, OK,” he said, with a fearful little smile. His eyes were big and brown and pleading above his beard. “Thanks.”
“Good. I’ll make a fresh pot,” I said. I headed for the door, pausing only to throw Sean a warning glance. “Don’t bully him while I’m gone.”
That almost raised a smile. “I’ll try not to.”
In fact, when I got back I found Sean had shaken off his black mood and somehow drawn Sam far enough out of his shell to recount the tale of my spectacular reappearance at Gleet’s place. I think I preferred it when Sam was terrified and silent.
“So she comes screaming into the yard with this guy right on her tail,” he was saying, drawing air diagrams with those long skinny hands of his. “Charlie, she doesn’t turn a hair. She just heads for this dry stone wall and bails out at the last minute and bang! The guy slams the wall and down it all goes, with her still on top. House of cards. Didn’t she tell you?”
I put the tray I was carrying down onto the table with more of a clatter than I’d been intending.
“No,” Sean said softly, his eyes on my face as I handed him his coffee. “Funnily enough, she didn’t quite get round to mentioning that part.”
I looked away. “What happened after I got chucked out the first time, anyway?”
“Well, there were some nasty rumours floating around about Tess,” Sam said, nodding his thanks as he took a swig of his brew. He sat hunched forwards with his hands wrapped round his mug like the effort of recall made him cold. “There were a few people there who reckoned she wasn’t quite as sorry to see the back of Slick as she made out. They reckon she and Gleet have had a bit of a thing going, on the quiet.”
“Tess and Gleet?” I repeated, almost to myself. I remembered the way Gleet had behaved around Tess at the wake and realised that the suggestion didn’t surprise me. In fact, it didn’t surprise me at all.
“Well that would be a reason, I suppose,” Sean said, as though he’d read my mind.
Sam looked from one of us to the other. “A reason for what?”
I reached for the piece of broken fairing and handed it over. Sam put his mug down on the table and turned the brightly-coloured plastic over in his hands, frowning.
“This is from Slick’s bike, isn’t it?” he said at last. “Where did you get it?”
“Gleet’s workshop. Hidden away just about underneath that damned great dog of his.”
Sam snorted into his coffee. “So you’ve met the infamous Queenie and lived to tell the tale.” he said. “Puts you in the minority, by all accounts.”
“Yeah,” Sean said, wry. “Between that dog and his sister, sounds like Gleet is surrounded by tough bitches.”
That gained him a grin from Sam that came close to being relaxed, friendly. Sam held up the bit of fairing, twirled it in his nimble fingers. “So what does this mean, exactly?”
“Slick’s bike has gone AWOL,” Sean told him. “The police were supposed to pick it up from some garage near
