‘He’s not just a photographer!’
‘Oh, I see.’ She smiled.
I flushed. ‘You know as well as I do that it’s the photos that sell the story. I might not ever get ahead, as you say, but I’m not going to lie to him. He’s a professional too. Either he’s in, or I’m out.’
She sighed. ‘Fine. So let’s talk.’
As the plane touched down on the runway at Charles de Gaulle Airport, I thought about the deal I’d struck with Adelita. The woman was a snake and I still didn’t entirely trust her, but her actions, though unorthodox, spoke volumes about her determination. She had more experience than me, she spoke four languages and she had the means to make me rather a lot of money.
We’d agreed that she would go ahead to Amsterdam to find out more about the European drug trade, and I’d return to Paris and find Ford. That’s if he was still there—or, for that matter, still alive.
The sun was already falling in the sky when I reached the hotel. Anxiety gripped my chest as I considered the task ahead of me. Every part of me shrank from the idea of returning to Le Chat Masqué. I may not have been hurt, but last night’s events had just been a warning.
Nick wasn’t in his room, and I was surprised by the force of my disappointment. I hadn’t realised how much I’d been looking forward to seeing him again. The rational part of my head told me it was only natural that I wanted to see a familiar face after travelling alone across Europe and back again against my will. The other part just felt lonely and a little bit sad.
Back in my room, I plugged in my mobile to charge and switched it on. After a few seconds, it beeped with several text messages. The first was from Nick.
Burrowes, where are you? Call me.
The second was from Katrina.
You can’t keep avoiding me, Burrowes. Turn your phone back on. I want results. Report back soon, or you’re on your way home.
The third was another from Nick.
I thought you were going to drop by last night? You could have just told me you’d made other plans.
The last message was from James.
Pretty brave of U to set your mum on me. Im selling the house so U better get back soon.
Well, that just topped off my day. What the hell was James’s problem? I got that he’d misunderstood the thing with Nick, but he was the one who’d screwed me over in the first place. He had a bloody nerve playing the high and mighty routine.
But his message reminded me of something else. I’d told Mum I’d call her today, and I hadn’t. I was dying to have a shower and change back into my normal clothes, but I dialled her number and listened while it rang and rang. Finally, I heard my mother’s voice, tired and croaky.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi Mum, it’s me.’
‘Sarah? Sarah! What’s happened? Are you OK?’ She was practically shrieking.
I held the phone away from my ear for a second. How did she know something had happened? ‘I’m fine, Mum, don’t panic.’
‘Don’t panic? Don’t panic? It’s four o’clock in the morning and you tell me not to panic?’
Shit. I’d forgotten to account for the time difference. ‘Sorry Mum, I didn’t realise how late it was. I’ll call you again tomorrow.’
‘That’s what you said yesterday.’ She sniffed. She seemed to have made a remarkable recovery both from her slumber and her fright.
‘Sorry,’ I said again. ‘I got caught up… it’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.’
‘I found a lawyer like you asked,’ she forged on. ‘James can’t sell the house without your signature. Then I put a call into him myself and gave him a piece of my mind.’
I smiled. The message from James suddenly made more sense. Even more amazing was the fact that she would’ve had to call his mobile to reach him.
‘Thanks, Mum.’
‘He’s done you wrong, and he needed to be told,’ she said. ‘I hope you don’t go back to him, or I’ll be very embarrassed.’
I felt a sudden wave of affection for my mother. ‘I have to go now, Mum. Hopefully I’ll be home soon. I love you.’
‘Are you OK, Sarah?’ She sounded suspicious, and with good cause. I probably hadn’t told her I loved her since I was ten years old.
‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you soon, Mum. Bye.’
As I hung up, I made a mental promise I knew I probably wouldn’t keep to visit my parents more often.
I was about to get in the shower, but I thought again about Nick. I’d better just call him first to let him know I was back so we could make a plan. But when he answered, all I could hear was music in the background.
‘Hello?’ I said. ‘Nick? Are you there?’
But there was no answer, just the continued drone of music. He must have answered without realising it. I was about to hang up and try again when I heard his voice, as if from far away. ‘Sorry about that, my girlfriend keeps bugging me. You know how it is.’
I was indignant. He was picking up a chick. But then why would he refer to me as his girlfriend? And why hadn’t he just rejected the call?
‘Please tell me what you want,’ said a man’s voice with a French accent. ‘I do not have all night.’
‘I’ll tell you what I want,’ Nick said. ‘I want to know who runs this joint. My clients have been complaining about the quality of the product. I want to know where you’re getting your shit.’
I sat upright. That was undoubtedly Nick’s voice, but what the hell was he talking about?
‘It has come from the same place it always does,’ the man in the background replied.
