The Pursuit of Emma - Dave Moyer (top business books of all time .txt) 📗
- Author: Dave Moyer
Book online «The Pursuit of Emma - Dave Moyer (top business books of all time .txt) 📗». Author Dave Moyer
I squeezed her shoulders and offered her as much time as she needed. She took a deep breath, slammed her locker shut and locked it securely.
‘Let’s find Emma.’ She looked determined and I wasn’t going to argue with her. Let’s do it.
I had absolutely no idea which one was hers. How was I going to find it? I would try every single lock if I had to but that would take me hours.
‘You don’t know which one it is do you?’ I asked hopefully.
‘No idea, try numbers that might mean something to you.’
I couldn’t really think of any three digit numbers that would mean something to us. You can’t really make birthdays out of three digit numbers, plus I wasn’t really sure when Emma’s birthday was. Pin numbers were four digits long and dates of importance could hardly be shortened to three numbers. I also thought that most of the lockers were probably used by the time she got there and she may have had to choose a free one, rather than choose a significant number.
‘I have no idea,’ I said at last, pacing up and down in front of the lockers.
The numbers were barely visible and half of them were scribbled over by vandals. Most of the lockers had some form of graffiti on them and I certainly picked up some new words for my vocabulary. I also learned that ‘Steve loved Tracy 4eva’ which was nice, but I had no clue which one was Emma’s. Then I saw it.
Locker number 387 happened to be in line with my eye-sight. As I had walked past it I found myself stopping and inspecting it without knowing why. There was something familiar here. I scanned the locker quickly, looking for what it was. There! In neat, elegant hand-writing there was a love heart written in black marker pen. This wasn’t unusual and it wasn’t even the first love heart I had seen written on the sides of the lockers, but I knew this one. Inside it read, ‘MP loves KtF.’ I knew Emma wrote this and I knew why.
*****
The rain was hammering the windows, threatening to break through and soak us both. Emma and I wouldn’t have cared if it had; we were in the love-bubble. We had got back from our perfect honey-moon only six hours before and been greeted back in the country by a horrendous storm. Sunny old England, huh? We dived into a taxi and made our way slowly back to the flat. There was washing to do, bills to pay and a flat to bring back into life, but that could wait. We raced into the flat, ripped each other’s wet clothes off and made amazing love. We didn’t even make it to the bedroom, just about reaching the sofa. Suddenly, England seemed pretty great again. We jumped in the shower and soon after were back on the sofa, eating takeaway pizza. Best day ever.
‘What shall we do now?’ She asked through mouthfuls of pizza.
‘Whatever you want,’ I replied, helpfully.
‘We could go out, if you want?’ she said, but I could tell she didn’t want to. I took one look at the rain lashing the window.
‘Nope, why not stay in and...watch a film?’
‘OK Baby, you choose. Surprise me,’ she said, too comfy to move.
‘I know, I’ve got a classic. Really dark, edgy film,’ I said seriously and produced ‘The Muppets Treasure Island’ from our DVD collection. She laughed and we settled in to watch it.
I don’t ever remember laughing that much. It wasn’t the film (although it really is a classic) but it was just the moment. Paradise. I had never been and I may never be so happy again.
Eventually, the film finished and we just sat on the sofa laughing and talking for hours. I brought out my world famous ‘Kermit the Frog’ impression and spoke for several minutes in that voice. She loved it.
‘So if you’re Kermit, does that make me Miss Piggy?’ she asked, teasingly.
‘Yes it does, I’m afraid. But as you know Kermit loves Miss Piggy very, very much.’
‘Well,’ she said raising herself up and reaching a marker pen off the coffee table. ‘Miss Piggy loves Kermit very much as well.’ She kissed me and wrote the initials on the back of her hand in a love heart. I smiled, watching her work and didn’t even protest when she turned my hand over and tattooed ‘MP loves KtF’ on my right wrist.
For days that pen mark remained on my wrist and even when I returned to work you could still see it. I took some serious ribbing about it but never let slip what the initials meant and for years after that it was our on-and-off nicknames for one another.
*****
I stood in complete anticipation of what would happen next. This was Emma’s plan to lead me here and I was so happy we had figured it out. It seemed a lifetime ago when she had left. If what was in this locker was from her, it was proof she still loved me. We could still have something.
‘Tom, I think someone is watching us.’ Sophie was glancing at the corner and when I snapped my head up, no one was there. I looked at her quizzically.
‘I’m not sure. I swear the same guy keeps walking past, looking in. He looks foreign. Probably nothing...but hurry up.’
I agreed with her. This was no time for ceremony. I forced the key into the lock and turned it. It resisted at first but when I applied some pressure the lock gave. The locker door swung open.
At first glance the locker looked almost empty. A surge of horror shot through me and I flung my hand into the locker, feeling a thin sheet of paper. I grabbed at it gratefully.
I don’t know what I was expecting Emma to leave me but it wasn’t this. It was a small note. It read:
Don’t give up on me.
R&S
165
2903
Love You.
That was it. The writing was scribbled and rushed. I recognised it as her writing although it was much messier than usual. She was obviously in a hurry. I read it over three times and then handed it to Sophie to read. I turned my attention back to the locker and examined it. There was nothing left in it. It was empty.
‘What does it mean? Is it a code?’
‘Yes and I know exactly what it means.’ I replied.
‘What?’ asked Sophie breathlessly.
At that moment the man I assumed Sophie had been referring to earlier walked past again. His eyes met with mine briefly and I saw the coldness of his soul. This was not a good man. I could tell he had seen things I couldn’t even imagine. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable.
‘Do you have any matches or a lighter?’ I ignored her question and posed my own.
Sophie was confused but pulled out a lighter from her bag.
‘Don’t know why I have one really,’ she said. I had never seen her smoke but after all the stress she'd had recently, I wouldn’t have blamed her.
‘What do you want it for?’
I glanced at the note one last time and set it on fire, holding it as long as I could before dropping it on the floor and watching it burn out.
Sophie looked confused but I nodded in the direction we had seen the man. ‘Can’t be too careful,’ I whispered. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
I grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the exit. If the man had wanted me dead he would have chosen to come to the lockers instead of a busy train station. He was just spying on me. At least I hoped. I took a deep breath and raced around the corner, dragging Sophie behind me. Within seconds we were in the crowds and away. We didn’t stop running until we reached the car.
‘So what does that mean,’ Sophie panted.
‘I’m not a hundred percent sure. But I know where I have to go next.’
‘Where?’
‘Raynmer and Stein.’ Chapter Thirteen
‘You have to take the good with the bad.’
I felt good. To be honest, I felt a hundred thousand different emotions ranging from elation to fear but one of them was definitely happiness. I knew one thing for a fact. Emma loved me. I had seen it in print.
Nothing else seemed to be so bad after that. My whole life had felt like a lie for so long. Sure, I still had thousands of burning questions but they could wait. There would be time for all that. Right now I was focused on finding her.
We sat in the car, shaking with excitement. We were getting somewhere. Sophie pulled her phone out and busied herself on it for a second. ‘Mum,’ she said in way of an explanation. She looked concerned. If her mother was anything like she was, she wouldn’t stop worrying or rest until she heard back from Sophie in any situation. She finished the text message and returned her focus back to me.
‘So where to? Straight to Raynmer and Stein?’ Sophie was still buzzing with excitement. I looked at the clock in her car.
‘No. I am going to need a suit. I’ll have to blend in. Can we go home?’
‘Yeah of course,’ she said and started the engine. The drive home wasn’t as hectic as the one there, but she still drove with some urgency. As we drove, I used the time to think aloud.
‘Well that was part good and part bad,’ I said, referring to the fact we had found something but really knew no more than before.
‘In this case you have to take the good with the bad,’ Sophie whispered. I nodded in agreement. Things could be worse.
‘How did they know we were there?’ I asked.
‘I guess they followed us,’ said Sophie, lightly.
‘I doubt it. Not the way you drive!’ We both laughed. ‘But seriously, I wasn’t followed to Veronica’s or home and we took some strange side roads to the station. I think we would have seen anyone following us.’
‘Maybe. But these are the best criminals in the world. You and I know nothing about their world. They probably have ways for blending into the background, you know?’
Sophie was right. I had only been involved in this for a few weeks; these guys had been doing it all their lives. What did I know?
We reached home and I ran upstairs to find a suitable outfit. I wasn’t really sure what the plan was but I knew I would want to blend in. Getting past the reception would be tough. But I had to do it and the most logical way to do it was in a suit.
I reappeared twenty minutes later, dressed as smartly as I could. I popped back into Sophie’s flat and asked her opinion.
‘Very smart, very handsome,’ she said sweetly.
‘Thanks Sophie.’
I noticed she was dressed up as well. ‘Do I look OK?’ she asked cautiously. She really did look great and it saddened me she had such little self-confidence.
‘You look beautiful,’ I replied, truthfully. ‘Are you coming as well?’
‘If that’s alright?’ she said sweetly.
‘Listen Sophie I think it’s great and I can’t thank you enough for being there for me,
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