As she turned off the shower she heard the door to the apartment open and close.
'Stewart? Is that you?' she called, then shook her head in annoyance. Of course it was him. Who else would be letting themselves in with a key? She wrapped a towel around herself and checked her reflection in the mirror. There were dark patches under her eyes and her skin was dry and flaking. She needed a morning in a spa, being worked on by experts. A massage, a long soak, then a facial and a skin-toning session. A seaweed wrap, maybe. She needed pampering, but Sharkey was practically keeping her a prisoner in the apartment. Damn him. Damn him and damn Den Donovan. They were as bad as each other. They chased, they wooed, they pursued, then when Vicky finally opened up her heart to them, they walked all over her. Treated her like a possession, something to be owned and put on show. Vicky smiled sadly at her reflection. Except that Sharkey wasn't even able to put her on show. She was like a bird in a cage, available for him and him alone. A secret possession.
She heard him walking into the bedroom.
'Did you forget something?' she called.
She opened the bathroom door, then jumped as she saw the man standing there, his arm outstretched to grab hold of the handle. Her mouth fell open and she took a deep breath, ready to scream, but before a sound left her throat a second man stepped from the side of the door and clamped a cloth over her mouth. Her nostrils were filled with a sickly-sweet odour and then the room started to swim. She felt the strength drain from her legs and everything went black.
Louise cooked lasagne and opened a bottle of red wine. Donovan sat down at the dining table as she heaped the pasta on to three plates.
'Robbie, there's salad in the fridge. Can you get it for me?'
'Sure,' said Robbie, dashing off to the kitchen.
'He's a good kid,' said Louise.
'He likes you,' said Donovan, pouring wine into their glasses.
'It's mutual.' Louise sat down next to him. She picked up her glass and clinked it against his.
'It's nice having you both here.'
Robbie returned with a glass bowl filled with salad and put it on the table.
One of Donovan's phones started ringing. He pressed the green button. It was the Spaniard.
'Hang on, Juan, let me get some privacy,' said Donovan, standing up.
'It's a madhouse here.'
'Well, thank you very much,' said Louise.
Donovan grinned.
'I need to speak to this guy, sorry. I'll go outside.'
Donovan left the apartment and hurried downstairs and out of the front door. He spoke to the Spaniard again as he walked along the side of the house to the garden.
'Yeah, sorry about that, Juan. How did it go?'
'Your money is back in your account,' said the Spaniard.
Donovan pumped the air with his fist.
'Juan, you are a fucking star!'
'Yes, I know.'
'You took your fee out first, right?'
'Of course I did, amigo. And my expenses.'
'Whatever it cost, you are worth it, you dago bastard.'
'I couldn't have done it without knowing where he was,' said the Spaniard.
'A little bird told me,' said Donovan.
'I can't say any more than that.'
'Your little bird is very well informed,' said the Spaniard.
'I myself could do with a little bird like that.'
'How was Sharkey?'
'Co-operative. Eventually. It took several toes and three of his fingers, but he told us everything.'
'Still alive?'
'Just.'
'Make sure he's never found, Juan.'
'Thy will be done. And your wife, amigo, what about your wife?'
Donovan walked to the far end of the garden. A couple of sparrows were squabbling over a bread crust that had been placed on a wooden bird table.
'Amigo? Your wife?'
Donovan closed his eyes.
'Have you hurt her?'
'Not yet. We have her restrained, but we haven't harmed her. I wanted to talk to you first. She is very afraid, amigo. If you wanted her to learn a lesson, I feel she has learned it.'
'Did she see what you did to Sharkey?'
'No, but she was in the other room. She heard everything.'
'Let me speak to her.'
The phone went quiet. Donovan heard rustlings and muffled voices, then Vicky was on the line.
'Den .. .' she said.
'Den, I'm sorry. Really.'
'I'm sure you are,' said Donovan coldly.
'I didn't know how much he'd taken. I swear to God, I didn't. He told me he was just taking some of it, so you'd have to talk to us. I swear.'
'He cleaned me out, Vicky. And a big chunk of the money didn't belong to me. It was promised to some Colombian guys. You've no idea what a spot you put me in.'
'I didn't mean, to Den. Honest.' She began crying again.
Donovan turned around. He looked up at the house.
Robbie was at one of the windows, looking down. Robbie waved and Donovan waved back.
'Sharkey wanted me dead, Vicky. Do you understand that? He knew that I owed that money to the Colombians, and he knew what they'd do to me when they didn't get it.'
Vicky didn't say anything, she just kept sobbing into the phone.
'There's something else you don't know,' continued Donovan.
'Sharkey wanted Robbie to find you in bed with him.'
'No .. .' sobbed Vicky.
'It's true, Vicky. He sent him a text message. Pretended it was from me. He wanted to be caught. He wanted you to have to run away with him. He used you, Vicky. From day one.'
'No .. .'
Robbie was still looking out of the window at Donovan. Donovan turned so that his back was to the house.
'From day one. He didn't love you, he didn't want you. He just wanted my money. And once he had that and I was out of the way, he was going to dump you.'
'What are you going to do, Den? What are you going to do to me?'
'What do you think I should do, Vicky? After what you did to me, what do you think I should do?'
'I don't know,' she sobbed.
'I'm sorry, Den. I swear to God, I'm so sorry. Please don't tell Robbie.'
'Robbie already knows, remember?'
'About the money. I meant, about the money. And about this. Just tell him I went away.'
'Vicky .. .'
'I'm sorry .. .' she said, then all Donovan could hear were sobs.
'Look, Vicky, don't cry. Okay? Just stop crying.'
'I do love you. And I love Robbie.'
'Vicky, stop. Please. Nothing's going to happen to you. I promise.'
Vicky sniffed.
