Don't Come Looking by AJ Campbell (always you kirsty moseley .txt) 📗

‘Was it definitely coke?’

I nod.

‘How much are we talking about?’

‘A couple of grams.’

Absorbed in thought, I swirl curry around my plate.

‘Marc spoke to me about Harry recently. He was worried about him because he’d become moody and withdrawn,’ Jim said.

‘And? What was the outcome?’

‘Harry is stressed about the exams. He’s worried he won’t get the grades for the uni course he wants to do.’

‘Do you think the coke was Harry’s?’ I say.

‘He seems too sensible to be dabbling in that kind of thing. Plus, why would he hide it in Marc’s wardrobe?’

I continue the saga with the weekly one hundred and fifty cash withdrawal and Marc’s meeting with Alisha.

Jim listens as if he can’t believe I’m talking about Marc, our friend.

‘Have you ever seen Marc do coke?’ I ask.

He scrunches up his nose. ‘That’s as bizarre as the idea of him having an affair.’

‘See what I mean? There’s more to this than meets the eye. Sasha knows it too. Maybe he has no intention of returning.’

‘Can’t you go to Arthur with what you’ve found?’

I sigh heavily and push my empty glass towards him. ‘If Arthur even suspects what I’ve done, as you say, it’ll be curtains for me.’ I take another large sip of wine, debating whether to carry on. ‘There’s something else too.’ He looks up from his food, arching an eyebrow, and I tell him about our chat with Alisha, and that she saw Annie and Marc arguing on the morning of his disappearance.

‘Why doesn’t Sasha go to the police again? That’s the logical thing here, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t want her to.’

‘Why?’

‘Because however much she tries to keep me out of it, she’ll let slip I’m a friend and I’ve found out stuff for her I shouldn’t have.’

‘See, what did I tell you? You should’ve left well alone in the first place. All this would’ve come out eventually. You’re risking your career, for what? Come on, darling. Think about it.’

I don’t tell him the real reason for my trip to Annie’s in the morning. Sometimes, there’s only so far you can push people.

Fourteen

DAY 6

‘You! Going shopping?’ Jim exclaims as if I’ve announced an impromptu trip to Mars. He’s manoeuvring himself around the table, cutlery perched on his lap while I fry eggs and bacon for breakfast, as I typically do on my weekends off. The weather is so good, I’ve opened the patio doors to clear the lingering smell of last night’s takeaway. The morning rays beam particle-scattered sunlight across the room.

‘I’ve got nothing to wear tonight,’ I say, humming along to Handel treating us to his Water Music via our Echo Dot speaker. Another present Jim surprised me with a few months ago that I haven’t stopped using. The ability to have our favourite melody at our immediate disposal has made me fall in love with Alexa. I turn the volume up to drown out the sound of Saturday morning CBBC. ‘You want a hand?’ I ask. He looks tired, his complexion grey, and every movement appears to be an effort for him.

‘I’m fine. Leave the kids here with me.’

‘They won’t be a problem. I’ve loaded a new game on their iPads that they can play together, and I’ll bribe them with some sweets.’ I drop slices of bread in the toaster. ‘It’s a lovely day. I think I’ll take them to the park again after shopping or maybe swimming.’ I pour four glasses of orange juice. ‘I must make time to do some clearing up out the front. Those weeds are driving me crazy. And we need to get some oil on your wheel bearings. Get the kids, can you? They’re watching TV. I’ve called them once already. God, I wish they would come the first time they’re called.’

‘Where’re you planning on going?’

‘Sasha’s neighbour Annie owns a clothes shop up on Streatham High Road. When I met her yesterday, she offered me a discount.’ I reach for the toast as it pops out of the toaster.

‘I thought we agreed you weren’t going to get involved?’

‘Remind me to put some sunscreen on the kids before we go. It’s hot out there today,’ I say, taking the butter out of the fridge. ‘Shall we eat out on the decking? I’ll put the umbrella up if the sun’s too much for you. Oh, by the way, we’re out of coffee, I’ll pick some up later. Shall I make a pot of tea?’

He shakes his head. He knows me so well.

Annie’s shop is more exclusive than I expected. The lighting is subtle, and gentle background music thrums throughout like an exclusive West End boutique. She greets us with eager enthusiasm as if she can see the pound signs of a potential sale. ‘What beautiful children,’ she says, patting Joe and Isabella on their heads. ‘You take after your mummy.’

I can’t help but stare at her in bewilderment. They may be my kids, but with their abundance of black hair, dark eyes and lush lashes as long and as thick as mine after I’ve applied three coats of mascara, they are the image of their dad through and through.

‘Come with me and give your mummy some time to herself.’ She guides them behind the counter to a mini children’s entertainment centre. A small-scale table and chairs, toys and colouring books and pens are cunningly arranged to allow for the perfect in-store retail experience for the eager shopper. ‘Browse away,’ she sort of orders me. ‘I’ll keep an eye on these two for you.’

‘What is that lovely smell?’ I ask, peering around the colourful explosion of summery clothes. Where to begin? There are so many styles and so much choice – an Aladdin’s cave for the serious shopper.

‘My signature aroma – lime, basil and mandarin – I have a diffuser out the back. Everyone comments on it. I shouldn’t say this, but I’ve got a sale starting on Monday. If you promise not to say a dicky to anyone, I’ll sell to you at the discounted price.