Meet your own needs, that was what it was about. Sam would be nice to play with, but she could manage perfectly well without him. Barefoot, she padded across the loft, stripping off her clothes as she went. On to the big bed, hand reaching automatically for the remotes. The home cinema screen sprang to life, the DVD player kicked in. On the screen, a woman thrust a dildo into a man who in turn was fucking another woman’s mouth. Their grunts and moans spilled out into the antiseptic air of Stacey’s flat. She rummaged among the covers till she found her vibrator. She spread her legs.
She was ready to roll.
The strobe lights pulsed and the music thundered. It was like being in the middle of a storm, Sam thought, his feet skittering to keep the beat. He moved well, dance the only language that allowed him to express everything he normally held in close check. And tonight was one of those times when he truly wanted to get the previous day out of his system. The shitty drive, the unfairness of the bollocking from Jordan, the mortification of being taken prisoner by their suspect, the drudgery of hanging around while Butler had emergency dental treatment-today had not been one to cut out and keep.
Driving back from Newcastle with Jordan and Butler, he’d been praying that she wouldn’t want to go straight into interrogation. Thankfully, Butler had known his rights and demanded a duty solicitor. And the first thing his brief had insisted on was an eight-hour sleep break. Jordan had liberated him and within an hour, he’d been on the dance floor, dressed for action and ready to strut like a peacock.
For the longest time while he’d been growing up, the dance was enough. He couldn’t remember when music hadn’t made him want to move. Toe tap, knee bounce, hip swivel, shoulder sway, finger click. It had bemused his parents, neither of whom were anything other than special occasion dancers. His primary teacher had suggested dance classes, but his dad had vetoed it on the grounds of cissiness. Sam didn’t care either way he danced regardless, whenever he had the chance.
In his teens, he’d discovered the big deal. Girls loved a boy who loved to dance. Any lad who rescued them from the handbag circle was halfway to paradise after any given ballroom blitz. It had been his teenage one-way ticket to the moon.
These days, it still worked the old magic and it had the added advantage of keeping him fit. He couldn’t get on the floor as often as he would like, but that just meant he had even more energy pent up. It was his only relaxation and he loved it.
As the clock turned midnight, Sam was playing to the girl gallery. He drank half a bottle of mineral water and poured the rest over his head. Knowledge was the power. But dance was the glory.
Across town, Yousef Aziz lay on his back, fingers locked between his head and the pillow he’d had since childhood, a pillow that smelled comfortingly of himself. Tonight, its familiarity held none of its customary subliminal reassurance. Tonight, all Yousef could think of was what lay ahead of him. It was his last chance for sound sleep, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. It didn’t matter. The last few weeks had taught him that there were other sources of energy.
In the other bed, Raj snored softly, his duvet rising and falling with each breath. Not even the death of his idol could disturb his rest. Every night, he was spark out by the time Yousef came to bed, and nothing seemed to rouse him. Not the overhead light, not the insistent beep of a Gameboy, not the jangle of bhangra nor the rustle of sweet wrappers. The boy slept as if innocence was his own personal invention.
Innocence. No question that Yousef had lost that. He’d learned to look at the world in a different way, and tomorrow the world would learn to do the same with him. He almost wished he’d be around to see what they all had to say. He didn’t like having to leave his parents and his brothers to face the music on his behalf. But there was no other way.
All over Bradfield, people were sleeping together for the last time. Some loved each other, some barely tolerated each other, some were indifferent to each other. What they had in common was that they had no idea that their lives were about to be sundered. As far as they were concerned, it was just another Friday night. Some had particular rituals-a Chinese takeaway, a DVD rental and perfunctory sex; a swim and a sauna at the health club; or a game of Monopoly or Cranium or Risk with the kids. Others played Friday night by ear-a few drinks then a curry; dinner on their knees in front of the TV; last-minute tickets for a rock gig at the BEST arena; or a joint wander round the aisles of Tesco. No matter what, it would be the last time they’d do these things together. The events of that evening would take on a kind of hallowed significance because of what was about to happen.
All over Bradfield, couples were sleeping together for the last time. And there was nothing they could do to change that.
Be a millionaire by the time I’m thirty
Play professional football in the premiership
Own a house on Dunelm Drive
Drive my own Ferrari
Cut a CD that makes the charts
Date a top model
It was getting easier. Tony wasn’t dreaming it. He’d woken up just after six, needing to pee. It had taken less effort and less time to get on to his crutches, and he was sure he was managing to put more weight on his shattered knee. Maybe he could persuade the physio to let him try the stairs today.
He got back into bed and luxuriated in the relief of being horizontal again. Time to get back in touch with the world. He pulled the table over and booted up the laptop. Among the new emails, the one from Paula leapt out at him. Written at 2.13 a.m., it said, Looks like you were right. Positive ID in the pub in Dore. More later. Well done, Doc, good to see you’ve not lost your touch.
Tony made a fist and gave the air a tiny punch. It might not seem much, but from where he was sitting right now, it was a big deal. Profiling was like walking out on the tightrope. Confidence was a crucial part of the performance. If you didn’t believe in yourself, if you didn’t trust your instincts and your judgement, you ended up
