Untouchable Things Read online

  “It’s a good way to meet men, don’t you know?”

  Seth’s eyebrow shot up and José shook his head despairingly.

  “Seriously, now. I read this article about where to go to meet men. Language classes are right up there with car maintenance courses and singles’ nights.”

  “Car maintenance courses?” Seth roared with laughter. “My God, and we men sit there declining our verbs and twizzling our screwdrivers obliviously. Somebody shoot us.” Then a wolfish grin. “I’m looking forward to this class more and more.”

  Anna wasn’t far wrong. Rows of young women turned to look at Seth and José when they walked in. Even José stood up taller and puffed out his chest. Bridget Jones clones, or ‘Bridgets’ as Anna referred to them. Black knee boots, low-cut cardigans and Sloaney ponytails. José got out his sketching pad and started some cartoons with a wink. He’d have a field day here. He did a couple of quick, caustic caricatures, which Seth leaned over and labelled Elouise and Annabel. The three of them dissolved into giggles and were glared at by Madame.

  That pretty much summed up the evening. They were still laughing when they hit the pub afterwards.

  “Madame and the Sloanes – great name for a band, don’t you think?”

  Seth lit up. “I didn’t pull, though. Should have left you two at home.”

  Anna nudged him so hard he spilt some of his pint. “Oi. You should be grateful. We saved you from the Bridgets. They would have had you tied up in a Fulham basement by now – with their Scrunchies.”

  They all hooted again. Seth wiped his eyes. “They sound like Doctor Who monsters… We will exfoliate. We will exfoliate.”

  They rolled around, helpless with laughter. And so it continued. At some point during the evening, José spotted a table of blonde ponytails studiously ignoring them but close enough to have heard much of it.

  Needless to say, we never progressed further with French.

  The memory of that laughter has an equal and opposite effect on Anna now, nearly three years later, walking into the wind. A stabbing pain in her abdomen so she has to stop, clutching her waist, and wait for the pain to subside.

  I still see him, you know. And hear him. Sometimes I think he’s right there in the room with us. Other times I remember something so vividly it’s like it’s happening all over again.

  All she can do is straighten up and keep walking, past the people sipping their drinks in pavement cafes, past the people laughing like she used to laugh.

  Scene 4

  She misses Jason. Finally she misses him. Or maybe she misses the idea of him: steady, straightforward, sticking around. It seems a long time ago.

  There must have been a reason for Seth to lie. Something had traumatised him, the tear tracks she saw on his face before they slept together, the way he’d shut down afterwards. What could she have done to reach him? If she hadn’t gone over that day, would he still be here?

  She let him down. No, he has let her down, all of them, making them need him and then abandoning them. She rings his mobile phone every day but his voice has gone. Now a machine tells her this voicemail box is full. Full of her worry, her questions, her pleas.

  And now Jake has gone too, or Jack or whoever he is. Why didn’t she stick up for him, go after him? Because she suddenly didn’t know what she thought and who she could trust. Seth would never have allowed Jake to be cast out like that.

  Panic rises like a tide. She squeezes her legs together, feels it hovering there, distilled stress manifesting as arousal. She has moved her hairbrush across the room. She could orgasm her way to brief relief in seconds just by continuing to squeeze but now only penetration will do. Hard, rough penetration to blot her out. She opens her bedside drawer and finds the Ann Summers box.

  She feels sordid afterwards. And sore. She’s never had the urge to hurt herself before, only since he disappeared. Like she needs to feel the pain of missing him in her body.

  She thinks again of Jake and a faint light glows in her head. If she builds bridges with him she’ll be doing what Seth would want. And if – when – Seth comes back he’ll be pleased with her. There is at least this small thing she can do.

  She pushes away the image of Jake’s strange, waxen face last night, replaces it with his usual mischievous flicker and gets out her phone.

  * * * * *

  They are meeting somewhere obscure that involves her getting off at Liverpool St. She steps out into high buildings, heat and humidity. City boys in pin-striped suits shouting into mobiles. Tourists blocking the steps, jaywalking along the main drag. She wishes for winter, possibly for the first time in her life.

  The bar is underground, a cellar with tables. She thinks she sees Jake near the back, head buried in the Evening Standard. A huge close-up of some bloke’s face leers at her from the front page.

  “Jake?”

  He looks over the paper and grins at her.

  “Or, should I say, Jack? Which shall I call you?”

  “Whichever you prefer, m’darlin’. I’ve been called both for long enough not to care now.” He points at the newspaper as she removes the bag from her shoulder. “Some poor bastard murdered in a basement. ’Opefully not this one.”

  He rolls his eyes and she laughs nervously while glancing around, feeling suddenly far from home. Jake looks her over. “Now, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Take a pew. What are you drinking?”

  She sees his beer and orders the same even though she’d planned to stick to fizzy water. She watches him at the bar having a joke with the waitress. The same old Jake.

  She thanks him as he sits down. “So, how are you?”

  “Oh, you know – all right, in an ex-con sort of way.”

  She lets out some air and smiles, remembers why she’s always liked him.

  “I’m sorry about all that.” She goes into her prepared speech. “I don’t think Anna meant to fly at you quite like she did. She was probably in shock about the orphan thing. We all were.”

  He nods slowly. “I kept meaning to tell you – about being in prison – but it seemed to get ’arder the more I got to know you all. Seth knew pretty much from the beginning and he was great. But people generally don’t look at you the same once they know. That’s why it’s so difficult to find work.”

  She swallows and tries to meet his eye. “We wouldn’t see you differently, though.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you? Chances are I’m responsible for a man’s death. I didn’t sell on ’eaps of junk but I didn’t do the proper checks either. That’s got to change the way you see me.”

  She looks at his right ear. “But – you’re sorry, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. Prison alone makes you sorry. But I can’t spend the rest of my life feeling sorry. I ’ave to move on.”

  There’s a hardness around his voice that makes her want to back away. He seems to sense it. “Look, I wish it hadn’t ’appened, course I do. But there’s no point in ruining another life – my life – by feeling guilty all the time. Guilt’s pointless. It wears you down and gets you nowhere.” His eyes don’t flicker from hers but there’s a catch to his voice. Can he really feel no guilt? It reminds her of something Seth might say.

  She needs to say her piece before she loses her nerve. “Will you come back to the – group, or whatever it is now?” She attempts a laugh. “I’d like you to.”

  “Thanks, Becs, you’re a sweetheart but I don’t think so. Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re great, but with Seth gone – I just don’t feel like I should be there.”

  She nods and lowers her eyelids to pull a blind over the relief she feels. At least she can say she tried. They both take a drink.

  “Anyway, ’ow’s things on your side, gorgeous?” He narrows his eyes. “Don’t mind me saying but you look a bit washed out – in an appealing way, of course. Are you okay?”

  She starts to say fine, thanks but to her horror she feels tears gathering like clouds at the back of her eyes. He is still watching
her.

  “I’m fine, just worried about Seth.” Her voice gives her away. Jake puts a hand over hers and the clouds burst and her face is deluged. “I mean – is he hurt? Is he dead? Is he just a heartless bastard like Michael says? I can’t stand not knowing.” It’s a relief to blurt out and she looks up at him for the answer like a child. “It’s driving me crazy. How can someone just disappear?” Jake retains her hand but glances around him. People are looking at them.

  “Sorry.” She hunts in her pocket for a tissue.

  “Here.” He hands her a napkin. “Poor Becs. I had no idea it was affecting you so badly.”

  She controls her response. “Of course it is. Aren’t you worried?”

  He shrugs. “Not so much. I just think he must ’ave his reasons and he’ll be back when he’s ready.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Just a hunch.” He looks at her. “Trust me, Becs, Seth is fine. He probably just needs some space.” He drains his glass. “Another? And some chips to build you up?”

  She agrees and he brings her a portion to herself. He watches her for a minute. “Eat them, for Christ’s sake. You’re waving them around like they’re little cigarettes.”

  She dips one in ketchup and pops it in her mouth. “Sorry. I seem to do this a lot at the moment. Lose my appetite as soon as the food comes.”

  “I’m worried about you, love, I really am.”

  It touches her. He bites his lip as if he wants to say something. “Have you seen much of Anna and co then?” He grins. “Sounds like Legs & Co, remember them on Top of the Pops? Anna & Co – that’ll be the new name of the group, new leader and all.”

  She forces a weak smile.

  He cocks his head. “Although Becs & Co sounds much better. You’ll ’ave to organise a coup.”

  She shakes her head, can’t keep up with the banter. “I’ve seen them here and there.” Several times, in truth.

  He leans in. “You need to be careful. They’re not as squeaky clean as you think. Don’t trust ’em, Becs.”

  “What do you mean?” She pushes the plate of chips away.

  “I’ve known them for longer than you have. Stuff ’appened before you came on board. You’re a trusting person, Becs, but don’t lower your guard too much.”

  She tries to smile. “Okay, you’re really freaking me out now.” This is a mistake and she needs to get out.

  “And while we’re on this subject, I have to say that maybe it’s for the best Seth’s taken a leave of absence, or whatever.”

  “What?” She stares at him in the semi-darkness.

  He reaches out a hand and she tries not to flinch from it. “Look, Becs, you know I like you. Not like that – well, yes, like that, but that’s not where I’m coming from right now. Believe it or not I have your best interests at ’eart.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  He lights a cigarette. “Sometimes people need a little time out when things are getting on top of them.” He puffs out a mouthful of smoke and leans in. “And sometimes it’s best just to let them.”

  Her eyes widen. “Do you know something? Are you in touch with Seth?”

  He shakes his head. “Nothing like that. But I’ve been around a bit. A bit more than you, maybe.”

  And then he changes the subject until she gathers up her things to go. Outside the bar he squeezes her hand. “Look after yourself, Becs. You’ve got the chance to really do something with your life. Be selfish. Forget about the group. Forget about all of us.”

  Scene 5

  [A disused warehouse]

  PC 1:

  Fuck. Fucking hell. What the fuck is this? Oh God.

  PC 2:

  Whoa. For fuck’s sake. Check this one out, Rob.

  PC 3:

  Jeez. What’s with the eyes?

  PC 1:

  Fuck. [staggers away; vomiting noises heard offstage]

  PC 2:

  [tuts] There he goes again. Did exactly the same with the girl they found under the arches.

  PC 3:

  No stomach for it.

  PC2:

  That’s some sick fucker did this… Backup’s on its way.

  PC 3:

  I thought I’d seen it all but… the eyes… poor bastard.

  PC 2:

  At least he can’t see Jono blubbing like a little faggot in the corner. Oi, Jono, get a grip, mate.

  PC 3:

  I mean, what’s that about?

  PC 2:

  [shrugs] Probably some arse banditry that went wrong. Looks like it. You’d be amazed what sort of stuff goes on.

  PC 3:

  Jesus.

  PC 2:

  Right, backup’s here. Hope they’ve got a stretcher for Jono.

  Scene 6

  [Police station]

  DC 2:

  Your bunch of weirdos is here, Suze.

  DC 3:

  No wonder they put a woman on the case for this one.

  DC 2:

  Yeah, you’re so much better at picking up dynamics than the rest of us.

  DC 1:

  Fuck off the lot of you. Taylor, over here. You’re in with me.

  Finally they were called in. It was excruciating sitting there in the waiting area, all of them with Jake. Michael and Charles went to talk to him, wandering over with hands in pockets trying to look casual. Catherine sat as far away from him as possible. Anna glared at him. Jake winked back at her and said, “Long time no see.” Rebecca had barely dared to look at him. If Anna found out they’d met up last night…

  “So, thank you all for coming in at such short notice. There have been some developments in the case that you need to know. As the press has already got hold of it, some of you may know already.” The detective turned expressionless brown eyes on them, one of which was partially covered by a flop of lank brown hair. The other detective looked like someone you’d want to avoid late at night. Thick neck, grey buzz cut, narrow eyes. Rebecca shrugged and shook her head along with the rest.

  “Okay. You may have read about a murdered man found in a basement two nights ago. That man was Clive Rothbury, a successful wine importer and father of your friend, Seth Gardner.”

  That brought them to life. Rebecca gasped and involuntarily looked at Jake, chewing gum with his arms folded. That headline in the Evening Standard. José had his hand over his mouth. “Not the one…”

  “I’m afraid so. It was rather a brutal murder. You can read the details yourself when you get out of here, but suffice to say that the victim had his eyes gouged out.”

  “Oh God.” Rebecca felt her empty stomach heave. The detectives watched them impassively, the woman making a note in her book.

  “Clive Rothbury had been reported missing some time ago, at around the same time we started to question you all.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Anna’s voice was almost a squeak.

  “There was nothing to tell at that point. People go missing all the time, especially people with a complicated home life.” Her face was bland as a news reader’s.

  “So Seth – is he in danger? Could the same person who killed his father have him as well?” Anna’s question wrenched a choked sob out of Catherine. Charles put an arm round her.

  “We don’t know, Miss Carmel. It’s a wealthy family, as you know. We’re looking at the possibility of a money-related kidnapping but there has been no demand for cash yet. We’re doing all we can.”

  “Do you have any leads on the murder?” Michael’s lips barely moved.

  “Nothing concrete. We may call some of you back for more questioning – just to tie up loose ends, you understand. Incidentally, we believe that Clive Rothbury disappeared on May 16th. That’s the date you were originally supposed to be having your Friday Folly meeting, I understand. Secrets.”

  Jake shifted in his chair next to her. “In the meantime,” the detective caught her colleague’s eye quickly, “if any of you receive any sort of contact from Seth Gardner it is absolutely es
sential that you notify me immediately before responding in any way. Is that clear?”

  Scene 7

  Anna grabs them on their way out of the police station, as unsubtle as ever. Nods towards Jake and hisses let him leave first. Michael wants to say something to Jake to make up for the other night but doesn’t know where to start. He’s no good at this sort of thing. And with Anna acting like they’re in the Secret Seven or something…

  Jake waves as he leaves and looks amused.

  “Come on.” Anna pulls them towards a café. “You get the drinks in and I’ll get a newspaper.”

  He needs to get back to school but Anna is having none of it. Her eyes are shining as she sits down. She leans in. “Listen. That date, May 16th. Remember, we were supposed to do the Secrets group and Seth wasn’t well?” Nods. “Well, the police got very excited when I told them Jake left early that night. Remember?”

  Michael scrunches up his eyes as if that will bring it back to him. “Nope.”

  “Well, they did. They kept asking me what time he left.”

  He can see where this is going. “So?”

  “Well, they must suspect him, mustn’t they?”

  He stares at her. “Why would Jake abduct, murder and mutilate Seth’s father?”

  Her shrug makes him snap louder than he intends. “For Christ’s sake, Anna.” A couple on the next table glance over and he lowers his voice. “You’re like a dog with a bone. These are wild accusations. Dangerous accusations. And I strongly recommend you don’t go to the police with them. We don’t want to alienate Jake any more than you already have.” It’s as much as he can say in front of Rebecca. Jake knows too much. And Anna needs to remember that.

  She casts a deathly glance at him and they open the newspaper, poring over the details. He remembers Seth that day, slumping on the sofa between bursts of sudden animation. A horrible suspicion is beginning to take shape inside him. He feels it as a dark mass in his belly starting to seep into his veins.