Erik can’t look at him, can’t face him, so he stares at Naomi until the bruised indents in her neck get too much and finally he looks away, staring unseeingly at the wall.
“We haven’t had sex in months,” Erik hears himself say, bewildered.
And then nobody says anything, and the only sound in the room is the beeping of the machines that are keeping Naomi and her unborn child alive.
47
LEV and ROLAND
1058 GEVERS DEYNOOTWEG and SCHEVENINGEN PIER
10.7.15 Lunchtime
Lev wakes to another bright day. The sunshine bathing him in warmth is confusing to him. Does it never rain here? Is the land not cast in shadow like it so often was in the forest in Pripyat? He can hear the joyous sounds of children on the beach, the water lapping at the shore. He blinks and rubs his eyes. The water isn’t that close to the apartment. Looking around he groans inwardly; Roland is still here, and the water he can hear is the boy washing his hands at the sink.
He looks at the back of the young man, knows that he should really get his shit together and get out of this godforsaken town. Roland can’t be trusted, he’s so easily influenced that Lev has no doubt he would break at the slightest amount of pressure applied to him.
As Lev stretches his cramped body and curses himself for falling asleep in the armchair, he realises the cravings are back. He thinks for a moment, trying to identify whether it is the blood or the drugs that he wants more of. And seeing as the drugs are much more easily accessible, he reaches for them.
“What are you doing, Roland?” Lev rasps as he studies his rapidly diminishing haul.
“Tidying up,” replies Roland, coming into view out of the kitchen area.
Lev sniffs the air which holds a distinct smell of bleach and cleaning products. He feels a wave of nostalgia and links it with his old friend Niko’s caravan. The memory brings a smile and an unexpected feeling of homesickness. He looks down at the floor where Joy met her sorry end.
“You done a good job, Roland,” he says graciously and not without surprise.
Roland looks pleased with the compliment and Lev wonders if he was too harsh on the boy. For if Roland has not only remained by his side but also cleaned up the evidence, maybe he can be useful after all.
“I need you to do something for me,” Lev says, rifling through his pockets and digging out a wad of notes. “I need some more stuff to get me through a couple of days while I figure out what to do. Can I trust you to get it for me?”
Roland seems happy to be entrusted with a special job, and nodding, he takes the notes from Lev and waits while Lev writes down exactly what he wants.
Roland jogs down the steps and makes his way through to the beach. He keeps a hand at his pocket, patting at it every so often to make sure Lev’s money and list hasn’t fallen out. He’s so pleased to have the opportunity to do something for Lev. After all, he hasn’t really had a proper friend since Miles went and got himself killed. His team of pals had been broken, they’d all gone; ‘six feet under’, as his mother put it.
At the pier he looks around for the men that Lev told him to look out for. There is nobody of that description yet, but Lev had told him he may have to wait a while.
Roland sits down, wondering if he has enough money to buy himself an ice-cream while he waits. He wishes he had asked Lev, he doesn’t want to use any of his money in case there is not enough left for Lev’s shopping list. He is salivating, sweating in the heat when a shadow falls over him. Roland looks up, shading his eyes to see who is standing over him.
“Oh,” he says, smiling winningly. “Hello!”
Lev checks the clock time and time again. He had known that his suppliers might not be at the pier yet, it is still daylight, but now he’s getting itchy. What if Roland has done a runner with his money? What if the dealers have pegged Roland for what he really is – a dim-witted, unable to stand up for himself individual? What if they’ve taken his money and left him with no goods? It could easily happen, hell, if Lev were the dealer and was approached by someone like Roland, he’d have the money and the drugs and wouldn’t be seen for dust. No, scratch that, he wouldn’t even run, because what is Roland going to do? He’s no threat, not at all.
Sweating now, Lev inches out of his apartment door and hangs around the balcony, scanning the street below for any sighting of Roland. There’s no sign of him, and swearing softly, Lev closes his front door and moves along the walkway, risking a glance at Joy’s apartment. The door is still closed and the curtains are drawn, just the way Lev left them last night. He pauses at her door, wondering if anyone will visit her and discover her inside. Since Lev has been living here she doesn’t seem to have had many visitors. In fact, she seemed lonely, eager for company.
He runs down the stairs, loops around the back street that brings him onto the promenade. It’s a different world; out here, nobody is aware of the body of Joy upstairs which is no doubt already starting to fester in the humidity. Lev pauses and looks back towards home. Should he cut and run, now, while he is alone and has nobody on his tail? Or should he find some way of disposing Joy’s body for good, so he can continue his
