Shiver Sweet (23 page)

“Thanks.  I’d love a cup.  Two sugars, please.”

“Typical builder,” Nicola commented.

“Coming right up.  And you...”  I faced Nicola and adopted a head-mistress tone.  “You need to eat something.”  I left the lounge, set the kettle to boil in the kitchen and concentrated on acting calm and casual for the cameras while placing biscuits on a plate, painfully aware of my every movement being filmed.  My mind raked over the mess the whole time.  It was mentally juggling too many things and dropping them one by one.

It’s quiet.
 

No music or noise came from Sarah’s bedroom.  She’d be curled up in bed, listening to her iPod or texting her friends.  Poor mite, she did look drained and overwrought and I wished I could magic all her hurt into a bubble and float it away. 

The ringing of my mobile from my handbag in the hall interrupted my thoughts.  I dashed over, pulled it out and looked at the screen.  My parents.  I tightened my fingers around the phone and groaned.  Damn.  I had to answer it in case they were about to drive over or something.  “Hi.”

“Hi, Christa.” It was my mum.  “How are you holding up, dear?”

“Oh, you know, not too bad,” I lied. 
Yeah, the best freakin’ birthday ever.
  “Everything okay?”

“Are you still coming round for lunch tomorrow?  I know things are hard, but it’s important you keep yourself going.”

“Erm... yes.  About one o’clock okay?”  I said to appease her.

“Lovely dear.  And Sarah can help me decorate some cupcakes.  Oh, hold on, your dad needs to speak to you.”

She mumbled something then my dad came on the line.  “Hi, Christa.”

“Hi.”  I wandered to the front door and peeked out.  All clear.

“Listen, I wasn’t sure whether to mention this in light of today but, we’ve just had a phone call from the inland revenue.”

“From who?” my voice rose to a squeak.  “What about?”

“Oh, it wasn’t about us.  They were asking questions about
you
.”

“Me?”  My heart thumped.  “What did they say?”

“The man said he’s investigating a claim that you’ve not been declaring all your income.  Is this true?”

An awkward pause rode the line.

Oh, shit.  I put my palm to my forehead.  “Wha-t?  N... no.”  Yes it was.  This same thump of guilt struck me when the cops turned up on my doorstep earlier.  I’d omitted my cash sales from my books for a while now.  John’s idea.  He said most people cream a bit off, but I refused to be that type of person... until he moved out, money got tourniquet tight and temptation won out.  So, I stashed clumps of cash in the space beneath the bottom drawers of cupboards in my office to avoid paying tax on those sales.  Without doing so, we’d have been eating baked beans by candlelight, cutting each other’s hair and bidding for second hand clothes on ebay. 

I half wondered when the police arrived, and again now, if John had shopped me in; just another way to manoeuvre me into a stranglehold.  “But, hold on...” I said, deliberating.  “Why are they phoning
you
?  And at this hour?”

“I don’t know.  But I think you need to get this sorted out.  Having inland revenue on your case is not something to take lightly.  Your mum is fretting.”

“I’ll sort it.  Tell mum not to worry.  It’s a mistake.”  Oh, fuck.  A horrid feeling exploded low in my gut.  Inland revenue would not phone my parents and it was highly unlikely that they’d contact them on an evening.  “When did they call?”

“Five minutes ago.”

Crap.

I spun around and stared up at the walls and ceiling in the hall.  It had to be those men.  They must have seen me on the bloody camera, perhaps I had acted strangely and they’d worked out what I was doing.  And now they’d seen us outside trying to leave the house, had they used this dirt on me as a warning?  Did that mean they knew Nicola had spilled their secret?  They had to know that my parents would tell me about the phonecall, and no one knew I’d been cooking my books but me.   
Hmmm... Is the cash still there? 
I’d tried not to delve into it knowing I’d need every penny to pay the solicitor fees for my divorce.

“Christa?” Dad said.

“Still here, Dad.  If they phone again, tell them you don’t know anything about it, and that they should speak to me, okay?”

“Okay,” Dad replied, his voice gruff and unimpressed. 

After a bit of chit chat to numb their concern, I hung up. 

While finishing making the drinks in the kitchen, my mind raged like a pen scribbling circle after circle on paper.  I carried the rattling tray into the lounge and set it on the coffee table. 
Deep breath.  Compose myself.

“Which is mine?” Dave asked. 

I pointed.  Dave sipped his drink while I perched on the arm of the sofa by Nicola’s feet.

“I’m sorry to hear about your husband,” Dave said.

“Thanks.”

“Who was on the phone?”  Nicola asked.

I flicked my eyes left toward Dave while playing with a strand of hair.

“Er, Dave,” Nicola said.  “Do me a favour?”

“Sure.”

“Our phoneline’s knocked out.  The wire’s broken, snapped or something.  I hate to ask, but can you fix it for us, please?”

“Snapped?”

“I did it!  With the garden shears.  Accidentally,” I said so as not to bring forth more awkward questions.

Clearly puzzled and perhaps irritated, Dave’s lips twisted to one side.  “Sure.  I’ll take a look.”

“Thanks,” I said as he left the room.  I faced Nicola and kept my voice just above a whisper.  “Okay.  We don’t have long.  That was my parents on the phone.  They got a strange phone call about ten minutes ago from some guy claiming to be from the Inland Revenue.”

“Really?”

I nodded.  “Look, it’s possible it’s a genuine call.  I wouldn’t put it past John to have shopped me in.”  I glanced down at my hands knotted on my lap and explained what I’d done.  “But I don’t think the call was actually from the Inland Revenue.  I think it was from one of the men.”  I rubbed my face to uncloud my brain.  “Jeez.  All this time... I thought I’d told my secrets to the devil in John.  But the real devil is the one you don’t see coming.”

“I know.  Makes John look like a pussy cat.”  Nicola covered her mouth with her hand.  “D’you think they know I’ve told you what’s going on?”

I shrugged.  “It’s possible.  Perhaps the men have seen me pocketing cash on camera, and contacting my parents is a sort of warning that only we’d understand now that they’ve seen us trying to leave the house.  Or that
you’d
understand, if they don’t know you’ve told me what’s really going on around here.”   
God, this was confusing
.  They knew, they didn’t, it was them, it wasn’t... which was it?

“Where’s the money?”

“In my office, various places.” 

“Hmmm... I did hear one man rattling your cupboards when they were chasing us round the house.  Maybe they figured they’d rob you while they were here.  And actually, I’ve just remembered, they were looking for a computer.”

“Whose?  Mine?”

“No.  Yes.  Oh, I’m not sure.”

“Interesting.”

“D’ya think this call was to scare you into moving the cash so they’d know where it is?”

“I think they’re trying to put the frighteners on us.  Any way they can.”  I buried my head in my hands, felt tethered and cornered.  “They can have the bloody cash if they’ll leave us alone.  Oh, what are we going to do now?”

Nicola set her hand on my arm.  “We can’t leave the house.  Not now.”

I raised my head and traded a stare of worry with her.  “I agree.  But it’s not safe to stay here either.  We have to sort this out tonight before that detective phones or worse, comes round here.  But I don’t want Sarah involved.  Do you think Dave would drive her to Brian’s house?”

“Of course he would.  Good idea.  Get her out of the way.”

“He’s going to ask more questions, you know.”

Nicola squeezed my arm.  “He wants to help so...  We’ll give him something to do, make him feel like he is helping us.”  She paused then clicked her fingers.  “Got it!  I’ll give him that cafe receipt.  He goes in there quite a bit and is always friendly with the staff.  I’ll ask him to ask whoever’s working if they know whose order it was.  I’ll give him some cock ‘n’ bull story about why.”

“Shouldn’t we save it?  Give it to the police?  There might be a finger print on it.”

“Yeah, mine.  Give Dave a photocopy.  Your printer does copies, right?”

I nodded. 

Nicola lifted her behind off the sofa.  She pulled the receipt out of her back pocket, holding it by the corner.  “Here.”

I took hold of the still-soggy receipt by the edge.  “You think Sarah will be okay with Dave?”

“I do.  He’s a good guy and a father too.  Besides, Brian knows him, right?”

“Yes.”  I left Nicola to drink her coffee, made a photocopy of the receipt and dashed upstairs to tell Sarah to be ready to leave in five minutes.  I sat on her bed, hugged and kissed my fragile daughter.  “I promise everything will be fine.  I love you, but right now, I think it’s best Dave drives you to Brian’s house.  I’ve got a few things to sort out.  Are you hungry?”

She shrugged and sniffed in my arms.  “A bit.”

“Maybe you can grab a burger on the way, eh?  I don’t want you fainting like Nicola.”

“Is she okay?”

“Fine.”  I grabbed a cardigan off the floor and passed it to her.  “Put this on.  Button it right up.”

She frowned.

“Just do it.  Please.  No arguments.”  The more covered up the better.  I didn’t want anyone looking at one inch of my daughter.  Who knew what type of people subscribed to this site?

“Can’t I stay here?  With you?” Her ghostly-red eyes broke my heart afresh.

I kissed her head.  “I wish you could.  But I’ve got things to sort out.” 

She pouted.  “And you don’t want me in the way.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you here...  I’ll get things done quicker if I know you’re being looked after.”  I thumbed tears off her cheeks.  “We’ll go to Grandad’s tomorrow and help Nanna make cupcakes.  We’ll spend the whole day together and do something fun.  How’s that sound?”

She pouted again.  “Thought I was grounded.”

“Not anymore.  Your grounding is over.”  I patted her knee, wishing that this nightmare I had to shield her from was also kicked into orbit.

“Can’t I go to a friend’s and come back when you’re done?  I know it’s dark, but it’s not late.”

“I thought you liked being at Brian’s?”

“I do.  But I was there yesterday,” she said, while I stared around the room, looking for the camera.  At least Nicola had covered the lens, I just prayed whatever she’d done to it worked.  “If I meet my friends I can still sleep here tonight.”

I hated that Chatting to my daughter didn’t feel private.
 

“Mum.  You listening?  What are you looking at?”

“Huh?”  I lowered my gaze from the wall and ceiling, cupped her soft cheeks with my hands.  “You know I love you more than anything in the world, right?”

She nodded. 

I placed a tender kiss on her warm forehead.  “John was very proud of you.  So am I.”  I rose off the bed.  My comfort was thin, my words inadequate.  It killed me that instead of wrapping my arms around her I was pushing her out the door.  “Love you.”  My voice cracked.  Inside I was yanking at my hair, punishing myself.

Sarah hugged a pillow, then flicked the duvet back and got out of bed.  “Does the phone work yet?”

“Dave’s outside trying to fix the line.”  I pointed at the phone socket next to her desk, one of three sockets in our house.  “But don’t use it.  Not today,” I said, still unsure if our lines had been tapped.  I dashed back down to the lounge and found Dave perched on the sofa, clasping Nicola’s hand while she finished pitching him a tale.  They looked pretty good together.  Nicola deserved a nice man in her life.  I just hoped that Dave could overlook our weirdness and give her a chance.

Nicola glanced up.  “Christa.”

Dave turned and smiled.  “Phone line’s fixed.  I’ve twisted the wires together and found tape in your kitchen drawer to...  Anyway, it’s done, but you need to get an engineer to fix it properly.”

“Thanks so much.”  I held out the photocopy of the cafe receipt.  “Can I ask another favour?“

“I’ve already explained,” Nicola said as he took it.  She gave me a sly back-me-up look.  “You know, that some dodgy guy’s been hanging around, the one that followed me last night, and we think he dropped it.”

“That sure does explain why you two are so jumpy.  That, plus your husband.  Jeez,” Dave said, appearing satisfied with Nicola’s story.  “I’ll ask at the cafe but I don’t see why the police-“

Nicola squeezed his hand, shutting him up.  “You’re great.”

He winked at her.  “You sure you don’t want me to stay and... you know, a guy in the house ‘n’ all.”

Nicola shook her head and glanced away.

A flicker of doubt passed across Dave’s face.  He was clearly keen to help and protect us, perhaps a part of him wanted to prolong his moment with Nicola.

“We’ll be fine,” I said, smiling sweetly to banish the doubt from his head.  “The police know all about it.  But thanks for the offer.  There is one more thing you could...”

“I’ve already asked him about driving Sarah to Brian’s house,” Nicola jumped in again.

“You’d better lock this house up good and tight,” Dave suggested. 

“Sure will.”  I nodded my thanks, the pretence suffocating me like plumes of smoke blowing in my face.  Then I realised.  Maybe Brian’s house wasn’t safe after what happened to John.  And what if Brian was with Claire?  Perhaps getting it on and...   “N...no!  Will you drive her to my parents’ house instead, please?”

Dave stared into my eyes as though trying to peel away the layers behind my change of heart.  “No problem.”

A sudden suspicion entered my mind as I looked at him.  Dave knew where we lived, a receipt from a cafe that
he
frequented had been dropped in our back garden, and here he was tonight of all nights, turning up on our doorstep the moment we planned to do a runner.  Very odd.  Was it just a coincidence?  Unblinking, I stared intently into his brown eyes.  Soft, concerned, confused.  A kind face.