and left, at the posters which lined the escalator and at the profusion of faces on the down escalator to her left.
The ticket hall with its low ceiling seemed to amplify every little sound, and the noise crowded in on her. She could hear music coming from close by - many voices, some raised.
She passed through the automatic barriers, looking down at an old man who was seated cross-legged by one of the exits, a dark stain across his crotch, his grey beard resembling a hedgehog that somebody had stapled to his chin. He had a battered brown fedora on the floor in front of him with some coins in it.
Shanine passed him by, the smell of urine and alcohol strong in her nostrils.
She took the first flight of steps she came too, emerging into the cool evening air, the sound of cars and buses almost deafening. It hit her like a wall.
For a long time she stood motionless looking out across Piccadilly Circus, at the buildings towering above her and the constantly flashing neon of so many signs and hoardings. It hurt her eyes almost as much as the glaring white of the tube lights.
There was a Dunkin’ Donuts to her left and she fumbled in her pocket and found a couple of pound coins.
At least she could attend to the problem of her hunger.
And what about sleep?
She crossed the road, saw people emerging from the main entrance of the Regent Palace Hotel. Four of them, two couples, laughing and talking loudly.
Americans. She heard the accents.
One of the men looked at her.
Didn’t he?
She got her doughnut and coffee and sat down, one foot resting on the holdall.
Shanine took a couple of bites of the doughnut and looked at her watch.
She’d been gone almost eighteen hours.
They would know by now.
They would be looking.
For all she knew, they already were.
Her hand was shaking slightly as she took a sip of her coffee.
Seventeen
‘That was beautiful,’ said Frank Reed, pushing the empty bowl away from him.
‘Which branch of Marks and Spencer did it come from?’
‘You cheeky sod’ Cath said, nudging him as she retrieved the bowl and carried it to the sink. ‘That was all my own work. You should feel privileged. That’s the first meal I’ve cooked for a man in over six months.’
‘And was he as appreciative?’
‘We split up a week later, but I don’t think that was anything to do with the meal’ Cath chuckled, spooning coffee into a couple of cups.
She stood by the draining board, waiting for the kettle to boil.
‘Next time, why don’t you cook me a meal?’ she asked.
‘I’ll take you out instead.’
‘Typical teacher. You spend most of the year on holiday but you can’t even take the time to cook your own sister a meal.’
He smiled.
‘I don’t cook much. You know what it’s like when you’re on your own, Cath.’
‘I’m alone out of choice.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she asked, smiling. ‘What are you going to do now? Psychoanalyse me?’
‘You’re a very attractive woman, Cath. I’m just surprised you never settled down. It wasn’t as if there was any shortage of men.’
‘Now you’re making me sound like a tart,’ she said, pouring hot water onto the coffee.
‘You know what I mean,’ he said, quickly.
She returned with the coffee, nodding towards the sitting room.
Reed got up and walked through to the other room, seating himself at one end of the sofa.
Cath sat at the other end, slender legs drawn up beneath her. She sipped her coffee and looked at her brother. He looked dark beneath the eyes and his skin was pale. There was a small shaving cut on his chin which looked even more starkly red against the pallor of his flesh.
‘You make it sound wrong for me to be alone, Frank’ she told him at last. ‘Mum and Dad were always nagging me to get married. I don’t think they ever understood what I was doing. How much my work meant to me.’
‘I wasn’t preaching at you’ he teased.
She stretched out one leg and prodded him with her bare foot.
‘I know that’ she murmured, in mock irritation.
Frank caught her foot and ran his fingers slowly over the instep, pausing to massage her toes gently.
She kept her foot there, pressed against his thigh as he began to knead her sole with his fingertips.
‘So’ he continued, glancing at her, holding her gaze ‘how come you never settled down?’
‘You’ve heard of Mr Right?’ she said. ‘I found too many Mr Wrongs.’
Reed chuckled, his finger tracing patterns between her toes, across the nails and joints, stroking, squeezing.
She watched as the smile on his face gradually faded.
‘Perhaps you were right not to get married,’ he offered, finally.
‘Have you heard from Ellen lately?’ she asked, sliding down slightly, pushing her foot further into his gentle, skilful hand.
‘We spoke on the phone about a week ago. ‘A sternness had crept into his tone.
‘Was it that bad?’
‘It’s getting worse, Cath. She’s getting worse. This bastard she ran off with, Ward or whatever the hell his name is, she’s obsessed with him.’
‘Is she in love with him?’ Cath asked quietly.
Reed didn’t answer.
Cath studied his profile, saw his eyes narrow slightly.
‘It isn’t love,’ he said, finally. ‘She doesn’t make a move without his bloody say-so. He controls her, like some fucking pet.’ Reed was breathing harshly now, unable to control the anger in his voice. ‘Every time I mention meeting her she says she’s got to ask Jonathan.’ He emphasised the name with disgust.
‘All I want to do is talk to her. Be alone with her for a few hours. I want her to tell me it’s over between us.’
‘And if she does?’
‘Then I have to accept it, don’t I?’ Reed snapped, reaching for his coffee.
Cath left her foot pressed against his thigh, pressing lightly against the material of his jeans.
‘When was the last time you saw Becky?’ she wanted to know.
‘A month ago. Ellen says she doesn’t want me to see her, she says it would be too upsetting for Becky.’
‘You’re her father, Frank, you’ve got a right to see her. You’ve got rights under the law. Ellen can’t keep Becky away from you.’
‘And what am I supposed to do? Kidnap her back?’
‘Go through the courts.’
‘Can you imagine what that would do to Becky? Christ knows, she’s been through enough already. She’s seven years old, Cath, and she’s seen her mother walk out on me, take her and move in with some guy she’s only been seeing for six months. Well, six months that I know about anyway.’
