Warhol's Prophecy (8 page)

‘Fucking cheat,’ shouted Doolan at the top of his voice, lunging at Midnight, who raised his hands into a boxer’s stance.

All hell broke loose.

All eyes had turned towards the noisy eruption.

Peter Morton spun round in his chair to see what had caused the disruption.

For fleeting seconds he and Layton locked stares, and Morton briefly wondered why this man was staring at him so intently.

He didn’t even see the knife.

Layton struck quickly and expertly.

The first blow caught Morton across the left cheek and laid it open to the bone. A gout of blood spurted from the wound, almost spattering Layton.

He lashed out again with the knife, this time catching his prey on the nose.

The tip was sliced off effortlessly by the razor-sharp blade, and an even more violent eruption of crimson spouted from this fresh wound.

By this time Morton was screaming, but his shrieks of pain were drowned by the din still coming from the other side of the recreation room.

The third cut severed most of Morton’s right ear, slicing through flesh and cartilage easily. The lump of flesh fell to the floor and lay there in the puddles of blood that had already formed.

Morton kept trying to escape, but he only managed to fall backwards over the plastic chairs.

Layton was on him again in a second.

As Morton lifted a hand to protect his face from the slashing metal, the razor-sharp weapon sheared through the tip of his right middle finger. It cut effortlessly through the pad of his finger and the nail, driving as deep as the first knuckle.

Layton drew the blade swiftly across the stricken man’s right cheek, then grabbed his bottom lip and hacked it off with one savage swipe.

The bulging, scarlet tissue fell to the floor and lay there like a bloodied, fleshy slug.

‘Next time it’ll be your fucking balls,’ snarled Layton and walked away, dropping the knife on the floor, kicking it across the room.

Morton was still screaming, gurgling as blood ran down his throat.

He lay alone, writhing in agony, clutching his face, surrounded by overturned chairs. The floor splattered with his blood and pieces of his ravaged face.

Layton looked back impassively at the disfigured, howling man.

Job done.

S
HE DIDN’T HEAR
the phone at first.

Hailey pushed a second load of clothes into the washing machine, stood up and listened, trying to pick out the ringing above the sound of the radio.

At first she wasn’t even sure it
was
the phone.

Another couple of rings and she crossed to it, lifting the receiver, then reaching across to lower the radio volume.

‘Hello,’ she said, wiping one palm on her jeans.

There was a second of silence at the other end, then a voice she didn’t recognize.

‘Is that Mrs Gibson?’ the voice wanted to know.

‘Yes,’ she said, smiling.

‘I hope it’s the
right
Mrs Gibson.’

‘Who
is
this?’

‘You probably don’t remember me,’ the voice said hesitantly. ‘You had a lot on your mind and . . . I, well, my name’s Walker. Adam Walker. Your little girl got lost yesterday and I was the one who . . .’

‘You found her,’ Hailey said, grinning now. ‘Mr Walker, if I’d forgotten your name, I’m sorry.’

‘Adam,’ he insisted. ‘Please call me Adam.’

‘Adam.’

‘How is Becky?’

Hailey was a little taken aback.

‘She’s fine, thanks,’ she said.

‘Look, if I’ve called at the wrong time . . . if I’m disturbing you . . .’ He allowed the sentence to trail off.

‘No. I’m sorry if I sound a bit vague. You just caught me by surprise, that’s all.’

‘I got your number from directory enquiries, I hope you don’t mind.’

‘No, not at all.’

‘It’s just that Becky told me your address yesterday and I remembered it, so I rang them and they gave me your number.’

‘You must have a good memory.’

‘If that’s a compliment, I’ll take it.’ She heard him chuckle. ‘She’s a beautiful girl. You’re very lucky. I’m just glad I could help.’

‘You’ll never know how grateful I am, Mr Walker.’

‘Adam. I think I can guess how grateful.’

‘No you can’t, believe me. Not unless you’ve got kids of your own.’

There was a second’s silence.

‘I haven’t,’ he told her. ‘I had a nephew about the same age as Becky. He died in an accident a couple of years ago. Hit-and-run driver.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘We were very close. That’s how I can imagine what you were going through. He was lost when it happened. He wandered away from my sister in a crowded street. Stepped straight into the road. A little like Becky. I’m just glad I could do something
this
time.’ His tone suddenly lightened. ‘Anyway, I didn’t call to tell you
my
life story, Mrs Gibson.’

‘Hailey,’ she insisted.

He repeated it.

‘Becky’s here if you’d like to speak to her,’ Hailey told him.

What the hell are you doing?

‘I don’t want to disturb her,’ he said.

‘I’m sure she’d like to talk to you. She seemed quite taken with you.’

You feel sorry for him, don’t you?

‘If it’s no bother, I’d like to,’ Walker said.

Hailey told him to hang on a minute, then she returned with her daughter from the sitting room, where Becky had been watching cartoons, and handed her the receiver.

Hailey saw the delight on Becky’s face as she spoke to Walker, watching her nod and giggle as he chatted.

‘Tomorrow,’ Becky said, and Hailey could only wonder at the question he’d asked.

‘I hope so,’ she continued, still mesmerized by that invisible voice.

Finally she said her goodbyes, handed the receiver back to Hailey, and disappeared back into the sitting room.

‘You
did
make an impression, didn’t you?’ said Hailey, smiling again.

‘I aim to please,’ Walker replied.

‘Look, if you want to call again, then feel free,’ she said.

Oh, come on, get a grip.

‘I won’t bother you again. I just wanted to make sure you were
both
OK,’ Walker told her. ‘I hope it didn’t upset your husband too much either.’

‘I might not be married,’ she said, chuckling. ‘I could be a single parent. Do I
look
married?’

Are you flirting with him now?

‘I saw your wedding ring,’ he told her.

‘Divorcee?’ she offered.

It was Walker’s turn to laugh.

Hailey thought what a wonderfully infectious sound it was.

‘I’ll leave you in peace now,’ he said, evidently still amused. ‘I’m glad everything is all right.’

‘I really appreciate you calling, Adam. And I mean it: you can ring again anytime. I’m sure Becky would like to speak to you.’

‘Just Becky?’ he mused.

Hailey felt her cheeks colour.

You’re behaving like some stupid teenager.

‘Take care, Hailey,’ he said.

‘And you,’ she murmured.

‘See you.’

And he was gone.

Hailey hung up, still smiling at the phone, then turned up the radio again.

Once more the room was filled with music.

‘H
AILEY
, I
DIDN’T
plan this,’ said Rob, almost apologetically. ‘I only found out this afternoon.’

‘Do you
have
to go?’ she demanded.

‘It’s a very important trade fair, and it’s only for two days,’ he told her. ‘If it’s any consolation, I’m not too overjoyed about it myself. It is Manchester, after all. I mean, no one spends two days in fucking Manchester unless they have to, do they?’

‘Why can’t Frank go?’

‘Someone has to run the business, and Frank’s better in the office. He hates this kind of thing.’

She watched as he dropped socks, underpants and T-shirts into his small suitcase. His suits he folded carefully, placing them in position before resting some shirts on top of them.

‘You always were better at socializing, weren’t you, Rob?’ she said, a slight edge to her voice.

He looked at her for a moment, then continued packing.

‘It’s got to be done. I’ve got to go. That’s all there is to it,’ Rob told her.

‘And what if I don’t want you to go?’

‘Oh, come on, Hailey. Don’t be bloody ridiculous.’

‘I’m serious.’

‘OK,’ he snapped irritably. ‘I won’t go. I’ll stay in the office. Sod the trade fair. To hell with all the contacts I can make. Fuck the extra business I could get for the firm. Happy now?’

She watched him struggling to fold a shirt, and stepped in front of him to complete the task.

‘This is for
our
benefit, not just mine,’ he reminded her. ‘If I can get some extra business, then it means more work, and more work means more money. More money means we all live better. You, me, and especially Becky.’

‘I don’t need a lecture in economics, Rob. That’s not the problem.’

‘Then what
is
, for Christ’s sake?’

‘This will be the first time you’ve been away from home since your

(
affair. Go on say it. It’s only a word
)

little game with that slag. I assume she arranged it all, this trip, seeing as she’s your secretary. Did she book your hotel, too?’

‘Don’t start, Hailey. You know bloody well she did. It’s her job.’

‘And what kind of room did she book? A double? Just in case she fancies nipping up to see you while you’re there?’

‘Look, if you think that’s going to happen, then ring the office while I’m gone and talk to her. Talk to Frank. Get him to tell you where she is. Ring me. Ring the fucking hotel: it’s the Piccadilly. I’ll leave you the number. I’ll call you every night. You can get the manager to check on me if you like, make sure I haven’t got any women in my room.’ He glared at her. ‘Do whatever you have to do, Hailey. I’ve got to go to this fucking show, and that’s all there is to it.’

‘Well, it’ll give you some peace and quiet for a couple of days, won’t it? Two days of not having to answer my questions.’

‘I’m sure you’ll have some more when I get back.’

‘Did she say she wished she was coming with you?’

He merely shook his head wearily.

‘Where else did you take her? London? Reading? Leeds? God, that
was
romantic, wasn’t it? Manchester not classy enough for her?’

He dropped the last of his things into the suitcase and snapped it shut.

‘I’ll call tonight and speak to Becky before she goes to bed,’ he said quietly.

Hailey nodded.

‘I just want you to see
my
side of this, Rob,’ she told him.

He held her gaze for a moment. ‘I’ll call you before I go to bed tonight,’ he said. ‘The fair doesn’t start until the morning.’

‘What will you do tonight?’

He shrugged. ‘Have a meal in the hotel. Go to the pictures. What
do
you do in Manchester when you’re on your own?’ He smiled wanly.

‘As long as you
are
alone,’ she insisted.

‘Hailey, I—’

She cut him short.

‘I mean it, Rob,’ she said quietly. ‘If I find out she’s with you, or she’s meeting you there . . .’

She allowed the sentence to trail off.

‘I’d better go,’ he said, picking up the suitcase. ‘If I leave now, I can be there before five.’

She followed him downstairs, watched as he gathered his jacket and a coat from the rack in the hall.

‘See you in a couple of days,’ he said, smiling.

He leant forward to kiss her, his lips brushing hers – gently at first, then more insistently.

She stood in the doorway, watching as he loaded the suitcase into the car boot, then slid behind the wheel and started the engine of the Audi.

He swung the vehicle out onto the road.

She waved.

He didn’t look back.

Hailey couldn’t sleep.

Despite the fact that her eyelids felt so heavy, that her body was crying out for rest, she could not drift off into that oblivion she wanted.