Chapter Five
Thursday Afternoon
Dan grabbed a sandwich from Sainsbury’s on the way back into the office, intending to have lunch at his desk. He found that he kept checking his phone for texts and was rather irritated by himself for doing it.
He got into the office just before one and started to write up his report. For a change he had plenty of time to collate the evidence. It was an odd experience, always in London the pressure was such that you were always juggling three or four jobs at the same time, and not doing any of them very well. This should feel better but it didn’t; it lacked any buzz, it was tedious and just felt wrong. He found his mind wandering, not doing anything for minutes at a time and had to try to tell himself to concentrate.
Hannah came back at about 1.30, looking hot and weary. She dumped her files and her Dictaphone on the desk and slumped into her seat.
‘Thank God that’s done,’ she said, ‘The traffic’s murder. Doesn’t anyone know there’s a recession?’ She read the post-it notes on her desk, ‘Our lord and master in?’ she asked in Dan's general direction.
‘Not seen him,’ said Dan.
‘OK, well if you do see him tell him I’m taking a late lunch. You know Jen don’t you?’
It was only then that Dan realised that there was someone stood in the doorway to the office. He only vaguely knew Jenny; he knew she had been at university with Hannah and that she worked at the city council. She was quite good looking though, with her long blonde hair and a full, but nicely proportioned figure and tended to get noticed wherever she went. .
‘Oh, Hi Jen, sorry didn’t see you there,’ he said, ‘How’s life in Albert Square?’
‘Oh same old shit, you know?’ Dan noticed she spoke with a slight Welsh lilt to her voice. Jenny Jones; of course, the Welsh connection – Jones the baker, Jones the butcher and Jones the looker.
God he was at it again! Letching. He was disgusted with himself.
But her welsh accent did add even more interest; he was a sucker for accents.
There was lusting and there was over-optimism and Jenny fell quite firmly into both categories. Still, he reflected, at least he had not lost himself so much that he had lost interest in attractive women, even if they were out of his league.
‘Fancy joining us for lunch? You can leave Ian a note,’ Hannah said as she headed for the door.
‘Thanks but I’ve just had a prawn mayo,’ said Dan.
‘Come for a drink then?’
‘Another time maybe. I just want to get this done.’
‘Oh OK, no problem. See you later.’
There was no malice in Hannah’s voice but Dan thought that she looked and sounded a bit disappointed. It was only after they had gone that he started to wonder if she had engineered that, that she wanted Dan to meet Jenny again. Was she playing matchmaker? Surely not. Well, he wouldn’t mind too much if she was but no, he was just reading things into this that just weren't there.
Despite this though, for a moment, he toyed with the idea of leaving everything and trying to catch up with them but then the phone rang and the notion passed.
He had a stab of hope that it might be Tess.
But it wasn't. The call wasn’t even for him, it was for Boris; a prospective tenant wanting to arrange a viewing, a rare beast in this market. He took the message and went back to his work, though he had a slight feeling that he had missed out that gnawed at him.
Half an hour later and the report was done and the valuation signed off. Before emailing it across to the solicitors he had one final look at the papers. On the cover sheet was the name again: “The estate of the late J.Johnson.”
J.Johnson? The name didn’t ring any bells at all.
James? John?
He opened up Google, typing the name in. Not surprisingly it produced 199 000 000 results – literally.
He sighed, wondering how he might be able narrow down the results (and also why he was bothering to look) but then Ian walked into the office.
‘Hi Dan,’ he said, ‘You busy?’ He was looking pensive.
Dan closed down Google and switched back to the report.
‘Not really. Just finished off that probate report and that repossession valuation I was supposed to do I couldn’t get into,’ he said. 'Sorry. I guess that's another lost fee. Well, delayed anyway.'
Ian perched on the edge of Hannah’s desk, his face glum.
‘Can you try ringing round some of your investment contacts, see if you can drum up some more work?’
‘Things that bad?’said Dan, raising his eyebrows questioningly.
Ian just shrugged.
‘Look it’s OK,’ said Dan, ‘If you need to let me go then don’t worry, just do it. You’ve already done me a big favour already.’
‘It’s not that bad yet,’ said Ian, ‘but it might be a good idea to keep an ear out for anything else that’s going, OK?
‘OK , Ian, message received and understood. And thanks.’
*
@fear_me_now Twitter Account
Tweets: 88
Followers: 216
@fear_me_now: The pygmies around me are pathetic. This city is pathetic. Someone will pay again very soon. But when I'm ready. My timetable
*
Thursday Evening
That evening, back at the flat, Dan was suffering a bout of something that had got so familiar he had given it a name; it was what he called inertia. It was when he felt that he should be doing something, going somewhere, meeting someone, talking to someone but didn’t have the energy or motivation to actually do anything about it.
It was a bad condition. It lead to boredom. Boredom lead to drinking
He wandered over to the fridge and looked inside. With reluctance he took out the cook-pot that filled most of the top half. Dan enjoyed cooking and the slow cooker had been a really thoughtful Christmas gift from his mother and sister but they seemed to have forgotten that he lived alone and that a smaller one would have been more practical. This was now day three of the same curry and, however nice it was and whether he had it with rice or on a baked potato or in a bowl with crusty bread, it was still, fundamentally, the same curry.
It was crusty bread with salad tonight. Dan managed to get halfway down the bowl before he got tired of it.
It was 7.00pm. Too early for wine? Yes, definitely, he decided. If he opened one now he might be on a second bottle by bed. The slope he was on was very slippery, there was no point in encouraging the process.
He looked out of the window. A few clouds but the sky was clearing. That was really good. It meant that there might be a good sunset tonight. He could head out of the flat with his camera and tripod. That would at least get him out and give him some exercise and, above all, keep him from drinking. Yes, a sunset over water with some good buildings around sounded just the ticket.
He collected his camera, switching it on briefly to check the charge. He had always used Pentax equipment, sticking with them rather than joining the masses with their Canons and Nikons, even though he had more than a niggling feeling that both might be better pieces of kit. It didn't really make any difference now; he couldn't afford either. Repacking his camera bag, he grabbed his tripod and headed to the car.
He knew he was heading towards the Quays without making a conscious decision to do so. It was the obvious place, he told himself. Buildings, water. Yes, that was it. There was no other reason for going there, was there?
He left the Skoda in the multi-storey attached to the shopping centre and headed through it towards the Lowry. Most of the shops in the centre were closed but a few people were heading to the cinema. Dan made his way down to the ground floor and out of the main entrance.
He spent about ten minutes taking shots of the bridges, the Lowry itself and the Imperial War museum. It was a little too early for the golden hour, the sun not yet that close to the horizon, so he decided to walk further afield in the hope of finding some other photographic opportunities or at least kill some time whilst the light improved.
Deep down he knew that by crossing over the water he would not be far from the apartment block where he had been that morning. He told himself that it was only partly out of curiosity that he was going there; he could partly justify it because the building might be photogenic in the evening light. Whatever, he gave into his true desire and headed towards it.
When he got there, however, he found that he could not get the right angle to photograph the building in its best light.
‘Have to come back at dawn,’ he said inwardly, then laughed at himself. ‘Yeah, right, of course I’m going to do that,’ he added out loud, noticing as he did a couple of passers-by looking at him rather oddly. 'Yes? What? Can I help you?' he said waspishly, though he instantly regretted it, though he was too late to apologise; they had hurried away.
Well who could blame them, he told himself. Talking to yourself was not a wise thing to do, he knew that, but he found himself doing it more and more around the flat in an evening; it had become a habit, it at least gave him the sound of another human voice even if it was only his own. And now he was snapping at people too for no reasons other than he was tired and irritated with himself for not tackling his loneliness head on.
Loneliness. Was he lonely? Even with work? Well working was the only time he really saw people, and most of the people he knew were married or paired up, so he hadn't got much of a social life.
He knew that the amount of time he spent alone just wasn’t healthy but it was so hard to break back into a place he had left eight years before. All his friends were in London, so why had he turned his back on there? He liked Manchester, much preferred it to the capital, but was this the place to make a new start? Really?
He was running away, hiding, and he knew it.
He found that whilst he had been brooding, he had walked up to the entrance to the building and peered into the lobby through the plate glass doors. Tommy’s desk was empty. Dan wondered if there was anyone on at night; surely there must be? Perhaps Tommy or the night staff was doing their rounds somewhere else in the building.
The lift door opened and Dan, feeling suddenly guilty, stepped quickly away and down the street a little way. He didn’t want anyone to think he was up to no good, casing the joint. The entrance door opened and a couple stepped out, arm in arm and passed Dan obviously heading for the town, leaving the door closing behind them. Without pausing to think or to understand why, he sprinted up the steps and just caught it before it latched shut. He held it for a moment, it was just a fraction off catching, wondering whether he should just let it close. What the hell did he actually think he was doing?
He pushed it open and stepped inside the lobby.
He stopped.
Tess was stood exactly in the place that he had left her that morning.
‘Where have you been?’ she said.
Dan was too stunned to speak. He just stared at her. She was dressed just the same as she was earlier in the day; jeans and the white t-shirt. This time she didn’t keep her distance, she walked right up to him. Halfway there though she paused; he saw her gaze move from him to outside, he thought he saw a momentary frown, a look of puzzlement briefly cross her face, but it passed as soon as it had come, and her eyes went back to his face again.
‘I’m sorry. I had to go…earlier?’ she said.
He noticed that her tone had abruptly changed. The first thing she had said to him had sounded hurt, almost angry. Now what she said was a mixture of apology and puzzlement.
Dan found his voice. ‘That’s OK. I just thought you’d changed your mind, that was all. It wasn’t a problem.’
‘No. I didn’t. I…er…’ her voice trailed off, and again Dan could see confusion in her eyes. ‘I don’t suppose I deserve it but is the offer of that drink still on?’ she said, looking hopeful yet doubtful at the same time. ‘Loneliness is a terrible thing, isn't it?’
For a moment he wondered how she had got inside his head. How did she know? But then he realised that she was talking about herself.
Again the warning lights were flashing in Dan's head. This wasn't right, it just didn't add up. How could such an attractive and intelligent young woman ever be lonely in this city? There had to be something wrong with her. He knew that he wasn't in the right state of mind himself to cope with someone with problems. He should say no.
Yet he knew quite well that he couldn't.
‘Sure…I mean…yes. Please,’ he blurted out.
Tess laughed. ‘You didn’t need the please bit!’
Dan smiled and Tess smiled back. Dan was still holding the door open. He stepped to one side to let her past. Then a thought struck him.
‘Oh, do you need to get a jacket or something? It’s getting cooler out there.’
‘No, I don’t feel cold,’ she replied, ‘thanks for asking though.’
She walked confidently through the open door and Dan followed her.
‘So, still fancy the Green Bar?’ he asked.
‘Can we just walk for a while? Do you mind? I’d just like someone to talk to.’
‘Yeah, of course, that’s fine.’
‘We can go for a drink if you want though?’
‘No, really it’s great. It’s a nice night and I like walking.’
They walked side-by-side. Dan found they were retracing his route back to the Lowry.
‘You’re a photographer?’ she said, nodding at the camera bag he was carrying over his shoulder.
‘Not really. It’s just a hobby of mine. I don’t think I’m that good.’
‘What do you take?’
‘Landscapes mainly. Some architecture buildings and the like. Sort of goes with the job. Lots of sunsets. A few sunrises too but they’re harder.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s harder to find a country pub to warm up in after a sunrise!’
She laughed. Well that was a plus, Dan thought, she finds my weak attempts at humour funny. Either that or she’s just really polite. On reflection, he decided that it was probably the latter.
‘Does your life revolve around pubs and bars then?’ she said.
‘Well I am a surveyor, we’re renowned for it,’ he said, ‘not that I’m that social actually. Well I don’t think I am anyway.’
‘Why do you say that?’
They had reached the waterside. The sun was just setting, the low angled light was like liquid gold, glinting off the plate glass of the high rises and highlighting the ripples on the water. Dan almost automatically reached for his camera, already framing the shots in his mind. He took half a dozen pictures, waiting impatiently for the Pentax to process the images - it was one of the downsides in shooting in RAW. It was a few moments before he remembered that Tess was there and that she was watching him with amused fascination.
‘Sorry,’ he said.
‘What for? You looked so serious then, so business-like.’
‘I love light. I spend hours hunting it.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Oh God, that sounded really pretentious didn’t it?’
‘Oh yeah, very!’ Tess said nodding, then laughed, ‘No, actually, it didn’t. I can tell you love it. And it is beautiful.’ She nodded at the scene set out in front of them.
She sat down on the Quayside, her legs dangling over the water. ‘Do you mind if we stay here for a while? Is that OK? I just think I'd find crowds a bit much at the moment.’
‘Sure. I don’t mind at all.’
He sat down next to her. They watched the sun finally disappear and the sky change hue. Dan shot a few more pictures. As the last glow fell on Tess’s face he could not help but shoot one of her, gazing wistfully over the water, her hand twirling a stray lock of dark hair. She noticed, and pulled a face.
‘Don’t! I’m no model,’ she said.
‘You’re beautiful,’ said Dan.
He was shocked at himself. Why had he said that? It wasn't that he didn't think that she was but the fact that he had said it. You only said things like that to someone when you had known them a long time or else were on a night out when you were trying to flatter and flirt with a stranger. Neither applied here. It was just, well, inappropriate. And just so jarringly out of character again. He gave Tess an anxious glance. Luckily she seemed not to have minded.
She just shook her head, ‘I’m not. You must be crazy.’
He was about to argue when she turned her head away.
‘Why do you say you are not that social, Dan the valuer?’ she said.
He thought this over for a while.
‘Well, I just prefer being quiet. I don’t like noisy places. I always preferred being at home, staying in to going out, being with one person rather than mixing with lots.’
‘She’s lucky then.’
‘Who is?’
‘Your wife. You have a wedding ring on.’ she nodded in the direction of his left hand.
Dan found himself turning the ring round and around on his finger.
‘She didn’t think so,’ he said, ‘She found someone else. Asked me to leave. We’re getting divorced. She thinks I’m boring, unambitious and anti-social.’
‘Oh. Sorry.’
They were silent again for another few minutes. The water lapped gently beneath their feet.
‘I didn’t mean to rake up any bad memories,’ Tess said.
‘It’s OK. I’m getting over it. I really should stop wearing the ring. I just…’ He stopped. He couldn’t for the life of him explain to himself just why he did wear it so it was going to be hard to explain it to anyone else. Maybe it was the finality of what the act of removing it actually meant. It meant he accepted that part of his life was over. Yet he himself didn’t want to go back. The love wasn’t there, perhaps it never had been. He sometimes asked himself whether love really was real at all, or whether it was just something people deluded themselves with. He knew that he really did not want to delve too deeply into this, that he wasn't ready to, so decided to ask his own question, the one that he had been burning to ask from the moment he had met her.
‘What about you? Is there anyone in your life?’
She did not answer immediately. Again this made Dan wonder if she was hiding something. Surely the answer was simple; yes or no? Instead she seemed to be trying to puzzle it out. Was she thinking up some pat answer?
When she did reply, however, it was quite simply to say:
‘No. Not for a long time.’
‘Since you’ve been ill?’
Again Tess did not answer straight away. Dan wondered whether she hadn’t heard or whether she did not want to answer. He was trying to think of a topic that would get them both to safer ground when she replied.
‘No. Before that. Quite a long time before that.’
‘Sorry. I’m not meaning to pry.’
She had been looking away from him still but now she turned to face him.
‘It’s OK, really,’ she said, ‘I was engaged for a while. I got close to being married. Luckily I escaped.’
‘Luckily?’
‘Sometimes people aren’t who you first think they are,’ she said.
Dan looked quizzically at her. Did she mean him? Did she think he was not who he portrayed himself as?
‘Forget it,' she said. 'I felt trapped but I got out. I was in London at the time but I got away. I moved back here.’
Dan smiled and looked down at his wedding ring again. ‘It’s funny how you want to come back to places where you’d once been happy, isn’t it? I used to live in London too’
She turned to look out over the water again.
‘Yes. And I was happy when I moved here. Happy for the first time in a long time. My family worried about me though, being alone and everything, but really I was fine.’
Suddenly a cloud seemed to pass over her face. Dan knew that she had had a thought, some memory that was painful or disturbing.
‘I was fine,’ she whispered, still staring at the water.
‘What happened?’
Her brow was deeply furrowed. It looked like she was trying to remember something, to drag something up from the depths. Suddenly she stood up, her face pale, her mouth open in shock. She looked terrified, looked on the point of running.
‘Tess, what is it? What’s wrong?’ said Dan also getting up. He reached out for her but she moved from him, alarm and confusing showing in her face.
‘I was attacked. Someone attacked me. In my Flat…up there…’ she sounded as if she was surprised, shocked even. A tear ran down her face, she held one hand over her stomach, protectively, as if feeling for a wound.
‘Tess that’s terrible. Who did it? I mean, did they catch them?’
She was crying properly.
‘I don’t know….I don’t know…I…I…can’t remember.’
Dan stepped towards her again, wanting to comfort her but she backed away again, alarm and mistrust showing in her face. She was looking into his eyes, staring, looking for something. What? A memory?
Oh my God, she thinks it was me, he thought.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, and turned and walked quickly away.
Dan was too stunned to move for a second but then he got up to follow. There was a yell from behind him, which he ignored but then there was another, louder one.
‘Hey!’
He hesitated. Tess had now started to run; he was not sure he could catch her.
‘Hey man, what you playing at?’
He turned, a man and a women were walking towards him, the man a little way in front.
‘What are you doing?’ the man said. He was black, quite short, in a business suit, white shirt no tie. For a moment Dan feared a confrontation, violence even. He realised that the man was holding something in his hand.
‘I wasn’t …we were just talking…she…’ Dan pointed vaguely off into the distance but then he saw what the man was holding.
It was his camera.
‘If you don’t want it we’ll give it a home,’ laughed the woman.
‘Thanks,’ said Dan, taking the camera off the man, who looked at him oddly.
‘You alright?’ he said, ‘Why did you start to run off like that?’
‘Well I was following…’
He turned to look along the quayside but Tess was nowhere in sight.
Thursday night
Dan parked his car in its usual spot. He was almost at the flat’s outside door, remembered that he had thrown some shopping in the car that lunchtime. Nothing special, just some cleaning stuff that he had put in the boot. Lifting up the hatch he grabbed the carrier bag and was about to shut it again when he saw something that caught his attention. Curled up, as innocent as a sleeping snake was the rope he had used to tow a broken down neighbour to a garage the previous weekend. He’d quite forgotten it was there but now he’d seen it, it refused to be banished from his mind.
He had bought it in London, bought it for an entirely different reason. He had come close to using it then, had sat with it in his hands in the lonely hours of 3 a.m., feeling the course roughness on his skin, letting it talk to him, thinking through his options. He hadn’t used it then, not that he had decided not to as such rather it was just feeling that the moment wasn’t quite right. It was only postponement not a rejection.
It was hard to shut the boot on it. Even as he trudged up the stairs he could hear the song of the rope, the serpentine tongue that whispered in his brain.
*
@fear_me_now Twitter Account
Tweets: 127
Followers: 302
@fear_me_now: I can hardly bear to talk to anyone at work. Their minds are so dull, their conversations banal, their plots and schemes pathetic
@fear_me_now: I want to slice them, butcher them like the pigs they are. Oh to hear them squeal, feel their warm blood on my hands
@fear_me_now: I may have to satisfy myself elsewhere. There is no reason why I should sacrifice my freedom for these worthless excuses for people
@fear_me_now: I will take out a girl. And, of course, when I say 'take out' I mean it in the permanent sense
@fear_me_now: I met a candidate today. Blonde hair, all curves, tight, short skirt, selling herself the welsh whore
@fear_me_now: She should receive my full attention, all of my 'charms'. I want to get to know her inside and out
@__________: you're a boy aren't you? No wot u mean though. Not that yud do it 4 real rite?
@fear_me_now: That is where you are wrong and where I am different from all of you out there.
@__________: Oh yeah right. You wouldn't do nuffin
@fear_me_now: I would and I have
@__________: Bullshit
@fear_me_now: I do not need to justify myself to you. I know that I have felt the hot blood of a betrayer on my hand
@fear_me_now: She will not betray anyone else
@___________: Straight up? Where? Wen?
@fear_me_now: The last time was six months ago. I will not say where but it is not hard to guess
@___________: The last time? U mean theres more than one? Bloody hell, what about the filth?
@fear_me_now: The police are far too stupid to find me. They haven't got a clue. Not joined up the dots. They don't even know I exist
@___________: Surely they will have noticed all the ded bitches around
@fear_me_now: They see the ones I want to see. The rest are just the dregs. No one cares. No one misses them
@fear_me_now: I dispose of them like trash. All they are to me is potential evidence. I am careful. There is never any trace of me
@fear_me_now: Not that they are very good at finding the remains of course.
@___________2: Bet you're a cop
@fear_me_now: Spare me. I'm far, far too clever to be one of those