I realize I haven’t given Bob anything.
‘You have given me the chance of a new life and a little inspiration. You are my muse and, alas, I will have to make do with this merest fleeting glimpse of you. But others are less interested in life’s aesthetics and more in its grubbily begotten gains.’
How much will they charge?
Now Bob spreads his arms and looks around the room, ‘As you can see I am not an expert with money myself. I’ve really no idea about it at all.’
I now remember to ask about Nikita.
The girl who helped me – is she a witch?
‘My dear boy, I hope you realize that if, twenty minutes after you leave here, I get a knock on the door from a man asking questions about you, it would be terribly rude of me to answer them. I would hate to talk about you behind your back and I would never dream of being that discourteous about anyone who comes here. Whether the knock comes in twenty minutes or twenty years, the same rules of conduct must always apply.’
I nod.
Thank you for sending her to help me. And for the sandwiches.
‘I didn’t ask her to give you any food.’ He smiles. ‘She’s a tough cookie with a bit of a soft centre.’
I grin at him and turn to leave.
He calls, ‘Adieu, mon cher,’ as the door closes behind me.
I walk quickly down the alley, sticking close to the wall on my left, eyes fixed on the far buildings, thinking, The end of the alley. The end of the alley.
money
Bob’s warning about the Hunters has really got to me. I knew they’d be after me but now my adrenaline spikes every time I see a person dressed in black. I find a park a few miles away and pace around. A dog walker helps me read the sign in the drawing, which says Earls Court. Also in the drawing is a man sitting on a bench reading The Sunday Times. The dog walker tells me that today is Wednesday, so I’ve got four days to get as much cash together as possible.
I’ve no idea where to begin but I know getting a job isn’t going to be the answer. I remember Liam, who I did community service with, giving advice about stealing. ‘Find someone stupid and rich – there’s loads of ’em – and rob ’em.’
I’m near St Paul’s Cathedral. It’s all quiet. The few people I’ve seen have come out of a bar and got straight into a taxi. I’m waiting further along the street.
It’s late when a lone City gent appears, walking carefully and cursing the lack of cabs. He has really fancy clothes, shoes with no holes in them and a waistline that indicates lack of food is not a problem for him. I’m not really sure how to do this, but I walk up to him from across the road. He is pretending he hasn’t seen me and speeds up. I move into his path and he stops. He must weigh over twice what I do, and he’s not short, but he’s weak and knows it.
‘Look, mate,’ I say, ‘I really don’t want to hurt you, but I need all your cash.’
He’s looking around and I realize he’s going to start shouting.
I step up close and push him into the wall. He’s heavy but as he hits the bricks the air sort of flobbers out of him like a balloon deflating. ‘I really don’t want to hurt you but I need all your cash.’ I have my arm at his neck, pushing his head to the side. His eyes are staring at me, though.
He slides out a long, slim, black leather wallet from his jacket. His hand is shaking.
‘Thank you,’ I say.
I take the notes, flip the wallet closed, hand it back to the man and then I’m off.
Later, when I’m curled up in a shop entrance, I think about the man. He’s probably lying in a nice warm bed, and he definitely doesn’t have a pack of Hunters after him, but he could have ended up in hospital with a heart attack. I don’t want to kill people. I just need their money.
The next day I suss out Earls Court station. It takes me a while to find the platform and the place that matches Bob’s picture, but the bench, the sign and the locker are there. I’ve just got to come back in three days and get whatever is on top of it. I go and sweep my hand over it now but find only grime.
Now I need some rich, healthy young men to rob.
Liam should come down to London. He’d love it. The place is full of stupid rich people. A few struggle, and some try to hit me, but basically it’s all over before it’s started.
I’ve bought a suit and had my hair cut so that I blend in with the fains. But it’s dead in Canary Wharf on Saturday and I’m glad because stealing from these guys is pretty low and they are all pretty hopeless. I’ve got over three thousand pounds and a reasonably clear conscience but it’s no fun doing anything just for the money.