“By her I assume you mean your sister, Mia.”
Sister. The word echoed in Julian’s mind. Hearing it said, somehow made it more real. His eyes grew hard with hate. “What have you done to her, you ugly fuck?”
“I told you, I don’t do anything to anybody,” Mr X said equably, untouched by the insult. “I’m merely a facilitator. I facilitate whatever it desires.”
“And I told you, it’s not in me. I couldn’t hurt Mia.”
“Maybe you couldn’t, but you’ve definitely got it in you.”
A glimmer of warped hope flickered in Julian’s eyes. He held up his trembling hands. “Are you saying this isn’t Mia’s blood?”
Mr X grinned impishly. “I think I’ll keep you guessing on that for now.”
Hope turned into rage. “You fucker,” spat Julian, his fingers flexing as if itching to wrap themselves around Mr X’s throat. “You twisted, sick little cunt.”
Mr X clapped his free hand against the videotape. “That’s it. That’s what I like to see.”
Julian wrenched his eyes away from Mr X, shading them with his hand as if to conceal some deformity. Mr X tut-tutted. “There’s no need to hide. You don’t need to worry about showing who you really are here.” He made a sweeping gesture at the rows of tapes and discs. “You’re amongst friends.”
“You’re not my fucking friend.”
Mr X screwed up his face in mock hurt. “What am I then?”
“I…I don’t…” A strange, uncertain light came into Julian’s eyes.
“You have the look of someone who doubts the reality of what they see. Believe me, Julian, this isn’t a dream. This is as real as it gets.”
Julian heaved a breath and spoke, dragging the words out one at a time. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to succeed, of course. This is your time, Julian. The world could be yours. All you have to do is reach out and take it.” As he spoke, Mr X glanced meaningfully at the videotape in his hand.
“You want me to destroy my father?”
“All sons destroy their fathers, one way or another, sooner or later. That’s just the way of things. Besides, if you don’t do it, he’ll destroy himself and the business with it. And I’ve put too much hard work into building that business into what it is today to let that happen.”
Julian’s face twisted into an incredulous scowl. “My father, and my father alone, built that business.”
Mr X gave a placatory wave of his hand. “Don’t get me wrong, Julian. I don’t mean to claim I’ve had a direct hand in the business’s success. But I’ve always been there, in the background, giving a prod in the right direction when it’s needed, pushing your father onto greater efforts. And when you takeover the business, I’ll do the same for you.”
“And what if I don’t take the tape?”
“You will.” Mr X spoke with the absolute confidence of a man used to getting what he wanted.
“Give me one reason why I should.”
“I’ll give you two. For starters, there’s your mother. She deserves to know the truth about the man she loves before she dies. Don’t you think?”
Julian blinked with uncertainty at the mention of his mother. Did she really need to know? Wasn’t the trail of misery, pain and loss left in his father’s wake long enough already? Before Julian could think anymore about that, Mr X continued, “Then there’s this.” He took a disc from his pocket. “I’ll bet you can guess what this is, can’t you?”
“My film.”
“Correct.”
Julian’s gaze flicked between the disc and Mr X’s face. His fingers flexed again.
“You’re thinking about taking this from me,” Mr X said, reading his mind. “Well it’d be pointless. This is just a copy.”
“So what’s the deal? Either I do as you say or you send that to the police?”
“Something like that. But I really hope it doesn’t come to that, Julian. You’re a young man with a brilliant future ahead of you. I’d truly hate to have to have to rob you of that future.”
Julian’s lips drew up into a grim smile. “More like you’d hate to lose out on all the money you’re going to squeeze from me.”
“There’s that as well.”
“And what if I don’t give a fuck about my future?”
“Don’t kid yourself, Julian. You know the value of the future. People like you — privileged people — always do. Besides, there’s not just you to consider. Spare a thought for your poor mother. If finding out about your father doesn’t finish her off, finding out about her son almost certainly will.” Julian grimaced at the threat. Mr X sighed as if the thought of carrying it out pained him too. “And then there’s your brother, Jake. What future has he got to look forward to? A short, miserable life of addiction and prison, that’s what. You could change that, give him the future he deserves. It’s all in your hands, Julian. So what’s it going to be?”
A long speechless moment passed, disturbed only by the gentle click of Mr X’s breathing. Click, click, like a lock falling in place, the sound of entrapment. Locked in a nightmare, Julian thought despairingly. No way out, no way out…
Slowly, as if afraid it might burn him, Julian reached to take the videotape. His arm dropped straight, as if the tape weighed a hundred pounds.
“Good lad,” said Mr X. “I knew you’d see sense. This calls for a celebration.”
“A celebration?” Julian repeated, as if unsure he’d heard right.
“Yes, a celebration.” Mr X looked past him. “Champagne.”
Glancing around, Julian saw a man stood on the threshold of the room, his bulk almost filling the doorway. He recognised him as the driver of the Mercedes. Hands like bunches of bananas dangled from the sleeves of the chauffeur’s jacket. Julian swallowed at the thought of what those hands could do to him. The man nodded and moved away. As they awaited his return, Julian’s gaze moved over the shelves of videotapes and DVDs. “Who are they?”
“They’re everybody and nobody. Businessmen, politicians, judges, solicitors, accountants, priests, doctors, teachers, policemen, and the like. Decent, honest people.”
Julian’s breath came in a sharp hiss. “They’re sickos, perverts.”
Mr X tutted. “You know something, Julian, you really must learn to stop seeing things in black and white. It’s not healthy. People are more complex than that. We all have God and the Devil in us. And we need to understand and love both sides, if we want to understand and love ourselves.”
“Who says I want to love myself?”
“Of course you do, Julian. You want to love yourself above all. That’s your nature, that’s everyone’s nature.”
You’re wrong, Julian wanted to yell, but the words would’ve rung hollow. Most of his life he’d clung to a reality that was in conflict with his dark side. He was tired of fighting with himself. He took a deep, sighing breath. So very, very tired…
The chauffeur reappeared with two flutes of Champagne. Julian looked dubiously at the glass proffered him. “Don’t worry, it’s not spiked,” Mr X assured him, raising his glass in a toast. “To you, Julian. To the great things you’re going to do.”
“What makes you so sure I’m going to do great things?”
“Don’t be so down on yourself. I can see the potential in you, even if you can’t. The way you found me was remarkable. But what really impressed me, what convinced me you were ready to take this step, was the way you bargained for Mia’s life. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such single-mindedness in one so young before. If you can apply that to the business, well, there’s no limit to what it could become.
Julian scrutinised Mr X’s face for signs of disingenuousness, but found none. He might’ve been a father lavishing encouragement on his son. Mr X quaffed his champagne, making a queer gurgling in his throat. Julian raised his drink to his lips, but didn’t swallow any. “So what happens now?”
“Now it’s time for you to leave.” Mr X extended his hand. “Goodbye, Julian, and good luck.”
“Don’t we need to talk about money and stuff like that?”
Mr X shook his head. “Don’t worry, when you’ve got something I want, someone will be in touch.”
