‘No, just sugar if you’ve got it.’
He waved one of the sachets at her.
‘Great.’
Back in the living room, he went to the stereo and turned it down.
‘Sorry,’ she said, back in the chair now, sipping tea, her legs tucked under her.
‘I keep meaning to find out whether my neighbours can hear the stereo or not,’ Rebus said, as if to excuse his action. ‘The walls are pretty thick, but the ceiling isn’t.’
She nodded, blew onto the surface of the drink, steam covering her face in a veil.
‘So,’ said Rebus, pulling his director’s foldaway chair out from beneath a table and sitting down. ‘What can we do about these men who’ve been following you?’
‘I don’t know. You’re the policeman.’
‘It all sounds like something out of a film to me. I mean. why should anyone want to follow you?’
‘To scare me?’ she offered.
‘And why should they want to scare you?’
She thought about this, then shrugged her shoulders.
‘By the way, I saw Charlie today,’ he said.
‘Oh?’
‘Do you like him?’
‘Charlie?’ Her laughter was shrill. ‘He’s horrible. Always hanging around, even when it’s obvious nobody wants him anywhere near. Everybody hates him.’
‘Everybody?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did Ronnie hate him?’
She paused. ‘No,’ she said at last. ‘But then Ronnie didn’t have much sense that way.’
‘What about this other friend of Ronnie’s? Neil, or Neilly. What can you tell me about him?’
‘Is that the guy who was there last night?’
‘Yes.’
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I never saw him before.’ She seemed interested in the book on the arm of the chair, picked it up and flipped its pages, pretending to read.
‘And Ronnie never mentioned a Neil or a Neilly to you?’
‘No.’ She waved the book at Rebus. ‘But he did talk about someone called Edward. Seemed angry with him about something. Used to shout the name out when he was alone in his room, after a fix.’
Rebus nodded slowly. ‘Edward. His dealer maybe?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe. Ronnie got pretty crazy sometimes after he fixed. He was like a different person. But he
was so sweet at times, so gentle..: .’ Her voice died away, eyes glistening.
Rebus checked his watch. ‘Okay, what about if I drive you back to the squat now? We can check that there’s no one watching.’
‘I don’t know.. ..’ The fear had returned to her face, erasing years from her, turning her into a child again, afraid of shadows and ghosts.
‘I’ll be there,’ Rebus added.
‘Well. .. . Can I do something first?’
‘What?’
She pulled at her damp clothes. ‘Take a bath,’ she said. Then she smiled. ‘I know it’s a bit brassnecked, but I really could use one, and there’s no water at all in the squat.’
Rebus smiled too, nodding slowly. ‘My bathtub is at your disposal,’ he said.
While she was in the bath, he hung her clothes over the radiator in the hall. Turning the central heating on made a sauna of the flat, and Rebus struggled with the sash windows in the living room, trying without success to open them. He made more tea, in a pot this time, and had just carried it into the living room when he heard her call from the bathroom. When he came out into the hall, she had her head around the bathroom door, steam billowing out around her. Her hair, face and neck were gleaming.
‘No towels,’ she explained.
‘Sorry,’ said Rebus. He found some in the cupboard in his room, and brought them to her, pushing them through the gap in the door, feeling awkward despite himself.
‘Thanks,’ she called.
He had swopped The White Album for some jazz - barely audible - and was sitting with his tea when she came in. One large red towel was expertly tied around her body, another around her head. He had often wondered how
