end of the line, a background sound that might’ve been static or might’ve been breath clicking faintly in a throat. Emulating as best he could his dad’s sharp but sincere business voice, he said, “That was clever going to the police like that, but unnecessary. This has nothing to do with them. It’s a business transaction, pure and simple. I’ll give you however much money you want, and you’ll give me Mia. No one will say anything to anyone, you have my word. I don’t care about what goes on here. All I want is Mia.”
The intercom’s silence roared at Julian. It didn’t scare him as it had previously, it only made him more determined. “How about I double whatever Mia owes you,” he offered. However much it turned out to be — five thousand, fifty thousand — he’d find a way to raise it, even if it meant stealing from the business accounts.
More silence — ominous, foreboding silence — unbroken except for the clicking. Click, click, click, it came, so tiny Julian began to wonder whether he really heard it or whether it was a creation of his imagination fuelled by Ginger’s description of Mr X’s voice.
“Okay, I’ll triple it, quadruple it, whatever-” Realising he was starting to sound desperate, Julian broke off. Keep cool, he told himself, this isn’t about emotion, it’s about business. That wasn’t true, of course, but he had to kid himself to keep from breaking down and begging. When he next spoke, his voice was tightly controlled. “If you need more time that’s fine. I’ll be back tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, and I’ll keep coming back as long as it takes to get an answer.” He waited a breath to see if his words drew a response, before adding, “I realise you can make life difficult for me, but I can make life difficult for you too. I know a lot of people in this town — journalists and other people who’d be very interested to know what goes on out here. So just think about that before you go phoning Tom Benson.”
Julian managed a crooked smile and a wave at the CCTV camera, before returning to his car. As he drove away, his business face slipped and his breath came out like it’d been trapped. If you’re not in jail tonight, he thought, you’ll know you’re right about Mr X. And what if you are in jail? wondered another part of his mind. Will that mean you’re wrong about him? Will it mean Mia’s dead? Or will it simply mean that Mr X doesn’t fear your threats? His mind circled like a merry-go-round, faster, faster, getting nowhere, making his bruised temple throb. At the edge of town, he stopped at an off-licence to buy some whisky. He’d discovered a taste for it while drinking his dad’s, and the heat of it calmed his brain. He half-expected to find Tom Benson waiting for him when he got back to his office. The detective wasn’t there, but Eleanor was. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“You don’t return my calls, so I came to see you in person.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?” said Eleanor, hurt that he needed to ask. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay — which you’re obviously not.”
“You shouldn’t be here.” Julian was trying to be brusque, but there was little force in his voice.
“Why not?”
“I promised your dad I’d stay away from you until this…thing is over.”
Eleanor frowned. “Dad had no right to make you promise that. I’m not a kid anymore, Julian. I make my own decisions, and if I want to see you then that’s up to me.”
“We were only trying to protect you.”
“Well I don’t need to be protected.”
Yes, you do, Julian told himself. He didn’t say anything to Eleanor, though. He didn’t have the energy to manoeuvre his way around all the questions such a response would provoke. “You should leave.”
Instead of doing so, Eleanor stepped closer to him — close enough that he caught her scent. She smelled of soap and talcum powder. He had a sudden urge to bury his face in her hair, hold on to her tightly while pouring everything, all the frustration, anxiety and fear of the past few days into her ears. He knew she’d gladly take it from him, but he couldn’t allow himself to pollute her with it. Rightly or wrongly, he’d come to think of her as something pure and good, something that needed to be preserved. “This thing with Mia Bradshaw could go on and on,” she said. “If you keep your promise, I might not see you again for days, weeks, maybe even months. Is that what you want?”
“Of course not, but-”
“But nothing.” Eleanor interjected. The soft line of her lips drew into a sad smile. “Don’t you understand, Julian? I can see you’re hurting, and anything that hurts you hurts me. I’d convinced myself I didn’t love you anymore, but seeing you like this, looking so…so tired and lost, I realise I was wrong.” She looked up into Julian’s face for a reply or some sign that her feelings were reciprocated. He remained silent. He suddenly felt that if he spoke tears would come streaming from his eyes. And he knew he couldn’t afford to cry. If he was going to have to keep returning to Mr X’s house day after day, week after week, month after month, he needed to keep his emotions locked down tight.
“Don’t worry,” said Eleanor. “I don’t expect you to say you love me back. I know — at least, I think I know — you have feelings for me. For the time being, it’s enough if you’ll just let me be with you. Let me help you.”
“You’re right,” said Julian, as the tears behind his eyes subsided. “I do have feelings for you. That’s why I can’t let you help me.”
“I’m not talking about helping find Mia Bradshaw. I’m talking about taking care of you. You can’t keep on like this, Julian. You’ll get sick, and then you’ll be no good to Mia or anyone.”
Julian lowered his gaze, his brow jagged with lines of indecision. Eleanor was right, he knew. What with Mia, and the dreams, and his mum, and trying to save the business, he was almost ready to collapse, both physically and emotionally. If she could take just a little of the pressure off him, maybe it would be enough to keep him going — keep him sane. He felt himself weakening, felt his eyes drawn back to her eyes, her hair. “You’ve got to promise, no questions about Mia Bradshaw.”
Eleanor smiled again, this time with relief, and nodded. Then she was putting her arms around Julian, leaning in to press her mouth against his. She tasted of lip gloss, a familiar sweet, waxy taste. And she tasted of yearning. He sighed into her mouth, feeling her warmth and strength, taking it for his own. It ran through his veins, hotter than whisky. For a moment, he was lost to everything but her. Then, realising the danger, he drew away, shaking his head. “No, I can’t do this now, Eleanor. No matter how much I want to. I’m sorry.”
“Well, then, we don’t have to do this…anything…now…” Eleanor’s voice wavered, tears coming into her eyes. “We can just be friends, until you’re ready for more.”
“I don’t know if I can just be friends with you. Besides, it wouldn’t be right. I’d be using you, and I…well, I care for you too much to do that.”
“Then use me. I’ve got enough strength for both of us.”
Julian stared at Eleanor almost in disbelief. She’d bared her heart, laid herself open to him. Now she was offering everything she had, asking nothing in return. How could he not give in to that? He gave her cheek a slight caress with one finger. “Leaving you was stupidest thing I ever did.”
Eleanor nodded as if that was self-evident. “But you’re back now, right?”
“You always were stubborn.”
“We’re both stubborn, that’s why we’re good for each other.” Eleanor’s eyes searched Julian’s. “So what happens now?”
“Now I need to work. The business is going through a bad patch.”
“How bad?”
“Well put it this way, if we don’t start to turn things around in the next few months, we might never turn them around.”
“Seriously? That’s awful. Is there anything I can do to help out?”
Julian considered Eleanor’s offer a moment, then said, “Actually there is. We’re thinking about having a new website designed. You can help with that if you like.” When she eagerly agreed, he showed her the old website and they made a list of things he wanted from a new one.
“It’s a bit different to setting up an archive but, yeah, I think I can do that. I’ll start work on it today.”
“That’d be great. It’d save us an absolute fortune and free me up to get on with other things.” Feeling a slight lightening sensation in his chest, Julian smiled and added, “We’d pay you, of course.”
Eleanor shook her head. “I don’t want your money, Julian, I just want to see you happy.” She picked up the list. “I’d better get to work on this.”
“I’ll see you later.”
“You promise.”
“I promise.”
