Seeker (17 page)

“You…you had sex with a man last night? Is that what you're saying?”

“No, I'm not saying that, I'm…” Jacob took a deep breath. “Yes. It's all gone to shit, and so last night I thought if I had sex with a man I could get it out of my system. I don't fancy men, I never have, but how losing Will makes me feel…I'm not gay, I can't be, but I thought maybe I can stop it…you know? I can stop myself from becoming gay, and then I'd be all yours.”

He moved to walk over to her, but Amy stepped back, an act that gave Jacob pause.

“Getting it out of your system! What kind of stupid bullshit macho crap is that?” Amy held up a hand. “No, save it, whatever you've got to say, I don't want to know. Right now I don't even want to share the same breath as you.”

Anger and pain vied for dominance, but Jacob didn't deserve to see the pain he'd caused her.

Amy stormed out of the bedroom, skirting passed him, arms held out to prevent him from touching her.

* * *

Sam stood outside Starbuck's, looking around as people continued about their lives, completely unaware of the darkness around them, the tragedy that lived in their midst.

Whatever had happened to him never made it to the local papers, or the news, but it had started here. He'd been here twice before, and both times with the same person. He closed his eyes.

Yes, the man who had accompanied him here had appeared several times in the memory flashes he'd received since standing before the mirror. The man had been there in Starbuck's, and at the converted factory with the twins.

His eyes blinked open, a new image playing over the scenes of everyday life that carried on around him.

It had been a great night; he'd never really been to a gay club before, although he had been out on occasion it was usually to more reserved places. But this was so much different. Dancing with strangers, all joined together by the music that played like an anthem of unity, sweat mingling from body to body. And his date watching him from his place by the bar, where he was purchasing more drinks
.

This was truly stepping out of his comfort zone. No one at home would believe him when he told them what he had done in Southend; Jake would balk at the notion of him dancing with strangers. But he would show them all…

A name; Jake. There was no face to go with the name, but at least Sam now had one name from his previous life. A friend? Yes, there was a familial sense moving through him at the thought of the name. Someone he had known for a very long time.

But who had been his date? The details were hard to make out, but the indistinct shape fitted the man he had seen in Starbuck's and at the factory. There was also a name, just on the periphery of his memory.

Yes! Charlie. It was Charlie, Sam felt sure.

* * *

It was one of those moments you dread. You're at work, minding your own business, just getting on with your job, when two police officers step up to you and ask if you're you. You look from one to the other; the woman is all smiles, but the man just looks back at you grimly. Now you know you haven't done anything wrong, at least nothing that would warrant police attention, and so you start wondering if they're here to bring you bad news. The death of a loved one; a fatal accident involving your annoying neighbour you had an argument with only yesterday…

Charlie Connolly was having one of those days. First his trousers hadn't dried very well over night, and so he had ended up getting to work late, a fact not helped by the late running of the two buses needed to get him from Leigh to the Eastern Esplanade along the seafront. That in itself wouldn't have been so bad, except he was due to take over the running of the shift and Joe had somewhere to be.

Joe was not happy to see Charlie arrive late, but Charlie insisted he'd make it up to Joe. As he was late, he had literally got thrown into the job, dealing with two irate customers who had been waiting almost half an hour for their food. He managed to get the problem solved, with not a single word of thanks from the customers who came out of the situation with a reduced bill and extra food. With that done he hoped he'd get a chance to settle down into the day. And then the police had arrived.

First he made sure that both the kitchen and the waitresses were on top of things, then told Chloe behind the bar to give him a shout if things got too busy for her.

He sat down with the police officers up in the 70s, from where he could still keep an eye on the bar. Sure Chloe would call him, but not before she got stressed out and up to her eyes in customers, she was after all still new to the Halfway House and had yet to settle into her own groove.

“What's the problem officers?” he asked, keeping a smile on his face to prove that he had nothing to hide.

They looked at each other, and the woman nodded, indicating that the male officer could lead things for now. “Are you familiar with Willem Townsend?”

It was a name he had hoped to not hear again; after the disaster of Friday and the subsequent lack of explanation Charlie could have done with a lot longer not hearing the name. He told the officer that he did indeed know the name, but had seen nothing of Will since last Friday. They nodded, and the female officer removed her pad to make notes, while the man informed him that at the behest of Will's family they were making enquiries as to his whereabouts, as he had not been seen since leaving London on Friday, even though he was due to return home on the Sunday.

That was three days ago.

Charlie's mind drifted back to Friday, and suddenly a sense of concern entered him. For days he'd been angry, putting the whole experience down to another lesson learned, but now…

“How can I help?” he asked.

“If you could tell us where you saw Mr. Townsend? We're trying to trace his movements and any details will help,” the male officer said.

The woman looked up from her pad and smiled. “Although he's an adult, and is probably quite okay, his family are concerned and we want to ease that concern. Of course, if he doesn't wish his family to know his whereabouts that is his prerogative, but we can at least assure them of his safety.” She glanced around, as if about to utter some kind of State secret. “So, if you do know where he is?”

“I honestly have no idea where he is,” Charlie pointed out, trying not to laugh. The whole notion of him trying to keep Will's whereabouts a secret after what he did was insane. “I wish I did, 'cause I'd like some answers, too.”

“Answers?” asked the male officer.

“Yes. Okay, let me explain what happened.

“For the best part of a month Will and I have been in contact; we met on a ChatBook. Yeah, I know, not the most auspicious of places to meet, but sometimes it's a risk to make your interest in other men known, you know?” Neither officer answered, clearly having no understanding of the complexities of being a gay man in a mostly straight world.

He continued: “Anyways, things were moving fine, loads of phone calls, texts, all the usual stuff you do when you're having a long-distance relationship—not that London and Leigh are that far apart but far enough to prevent other more interesting aspects of a relationship.” At this the female officer smirked, while her male counterpart grimaced. Charlie shrugged. “We finally agreed to meet up. Will would come here, since he always told me how he disliked his life in London.”

“Disliked? From what we've been able to ascertain he's quite a successful businessman, with family and friends that care.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow at the male officer. “Yeah, you'd have thought that'd be enough, but the way Will told it he felt constrained. Thing is, he loves his business, but he thinks his career has come at too high a price; got his family looking for hand-outs all the time, and his free time is practically nil. So our relationship was his chance to be something else.” He leaned forward, a wistful smile on his face. Now he was talking about Will, the anger at Friday was dissipating. “He's a sweet guy, really, very funny and very lovely. I honestly think we'd have been great together. But then Friday happened.

“We'd planned it all out. It was going to be a great weekend; plenty of quality time together, catch a show up at Cliff's, you know, seeing if we had the same chemistry in person. He was travelling down by train since his car was in dock, and we'd planned to meet at Central around half one.

“So I was walking through town, having popped into Clinton's to pick up a little something for Will—thought it'd be a nice surprise if I turned up with a gift. I passed Starbuck's—the one near Central Station, not the one up top by HMV—and glanced in there. You know how it is, you pass cafes you can't help but look in, not to be rude or intrusive, just one of those things you do. Anyway, I glance in and what do I see but Will sitting there with some other bloke. I think nothing of it, Will probably arrived earlier than planned and got talking to someone. It's the kind of thing I would have done, anyway.

“So I walk in, and just then, the two of them start kissing. And I'm not talking a brief peck here; I'm talking full on passion. So I stop where I am, just by the door of the cafe. Worst moment of my life,” Charlie added, and looked down to the table, trying to contain the choked up emotion in his voice.

The officers waited for him to gather himself together, and when he looked up the woman offered him a reassuring smile. It didn't help.

“I tried to speak to Will, once they'd finally…stopped, but I barely managed to get his name out. At first I'm sure I saw a flicker of guilt on Will's face, but it soon went when he looked at the guy, who by this time had turned around and was also looking at me. The look on his face was…I don't know, predatory? Yes, he was warning me away. So I left.”

“And you've not had any contact with Will since?” the man asked.

“No. Well, I've tried texting, even sent an email, but there's been no answer. Monday morning I did call him, thinking that with the weekend done and dusted he might be willing to talk, but nothing. His phone was dead.”

“Do you still have the texts on your phone?”

“Um, sure.” Charlie reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Can we make a note of them, just to corroborate your story? We'll also check the CCTV around Southend Central, see if we can pinpoint which direction Mr. Townsend went after leaving Starbuck's.”

“Okay,” Charlie said, thinking that all seemed quite reasonable. He found the texts in question and handed the phone to the female officer who started copying them into her pad.

“Can you describe the man you saw with Mr. Townsend?” the male officer asked, getting his own pad ready.

“Pretty much, yes. Didn't occur to me at the time, but I served him here that morning. It was only after that I realised I'd seen him before, but at the time…well, those eyes, you see?” Even now, just thinking about them made Charlie let out an involuntary shudder. “He was a little shorter than me; so about six-foot tops. Dark brown hair, slim, thin face, his eyes were, I don't know, a kind of grey? Almost as if they had more colour to them than I could see. Thinking on it, I kind of remember feeling the same thing when I served him. I saw grey in his eyes but something else behind them…” Just the thought made Charlie's skin crawl. He could never hope to explain why, but everything about this odd man whom Willem had last been seen with made him a little nauseous. “Anyway, he was a good looking bloke, probably in his mid-twenties, maybe twenty-seven on the outside. Clothes, hmm? Black jeans, and a faded brown leather flight jacket.”

The officer closed his pad. “Thank you, Mr. Connolly, your information will come in very useful. If we have any more questions…”

“Don't hesitate to call. If I can help in any way…” Charlie shivered. “Will's in trouble, I can feel it. I know I've only known him a month, but I've got to know him well, and this is not like him at all. He doesn't jump into things like this, and there's no way he'd go with someone he barely knows.”

“That's assuming this man he was with is a stranger?” the female officer pointed out, handing Charlie back his phone.

Charlie went cold. “You think that's possible?”

“We won't rule anything out at this point.” The two officers stood and shook hands with Charlie, saying they'd be in touch before leaving.

For a few moments Charlie remained where he was, standing by the table, looking out of the window and across the Estuary towards Queensland and Kent. He shook his head, feeling guilty for being angry at Will.

Something was very wrong, he just knew it.

* * *

Walking a path that seemed familiar, but without associated memories, was a strange experience, and although Sam had nothing to draw on, he suspected it was like visiting the place you had been born in many years after leaving; you knew you'd been there once, but you were too young to remember the details. He hadn't needed to walk too far from the High Street before he was smacked in the face by another dissociative wave of I-know-this-place-but-I-don't.

He stopped and looked past the trees at the old building before him. The yellow words on the blue sign before the church told him it was St John's; which had clearly undergone some kind of reconstruction in recent years. Something had happened to him in this area, some incident intricately connected to his memory loss.

He crossed the road and set off down the path alongside the church. At the end of the road was a roundabout, the first turning from which was an A-road, and secondly it branched off up a slope. Neither turnings really interested him, though; rather it was the immediate right turning that held his interest, a few yards before getting to the roundabout. A massive car park greeted him, mostly empty, with a row of closed nightclubs at the far end. It was in one of these nightclubs he'd been to with his date, the mystery man who was swathed in shadows still.