I See You

‘Anything.’


‘One: that you do not work alone.’ Kelly opened her mouth to argue that she didn’t need a babysitter, but Diggers cut in again. ‘It’s non-negotiable, Kelly. Yes, you’re an experienced officer and a good detective, but if you join my team, you’re on probation. Do you understand?’ She nodded.

‘What’s the other condition?’

‘The second you feel you’re losing control – the second it happens – I want you out of there. I saved your neck once, Kelly. I won’t do it again.’





15


‘What do you make of Isaac?’

It’s Tuesday lunchtime, and I’m meeting Melissa for a sandwich, midway between Cannon Street and her new café in Clerkenwell, which is undergoing a refit in preparation for opening day. She’s wearing skinny black cords and a black fitted shirt, and even with a faint coating of dust on her shoulders she manages to look stylish. Her hair has been swept out of the way with a large tortoiseshell clip.

‘I liked him. I’m guessing you’re not keen?’

I screw up my face. ‘There’s something about him that puts me on edge.’ I pick at my BLT.

‘You’d say that no matter who Katie was dating.’ She prises open her baguette and peers at the contents. ‘How they can charge £3.50 for this, I don’t know. There can’t be more than a dozen prawns in it.’

‘I wouldn’t.’ Would I? Maybe. I try to think back to the last boyfriend Katie brought home, but there’s been no one serious; only a handful of awkward teens with clammy handshakes. ‘It’s not just him, it’s the whole set-up. The idea of Katie – and the rest of the cast – working for nothing for weeks on end on the vague promise of some sort of profit-share once the ticket money comes in. It’s exploitation, if you ask me.’

‘Or a brilliant business strategy.’

‘Whose side are you on?’

‘No one’s. I’m simply saying that, from his point of view – from Isaac’s – it’s a good strategy. Limited outlay, minimal risk … if I went to my bank manager with that sort of strategy he’d be delighted.’ She grins, but there’s an edge to it that’s almost a grimace, and I think I know why.

‘I take it your bank manager isn’t a fan of your expansion plans?’

‘I’ve got no idea.’

‘What do you mean? You haven’t taken out a business loan?’

She shakes her head and takes another bite of her baguette. When she speaks it’s as though I’m dragging the words out of her. ‘I’ve remortgaged the house.’

‘I bet that went down well with Neil.’ Melissa’s husband is so averse to the idea of debt that he won’t even open a tab for an evening’s drinks. Melissa doesn’t say anything.

‘You have told him, haven’t you?’

There’s a pause, and Melissa’s face changes. The confident, amused look disappears, and for a moment she is anxious and unguarded. The insight is oddly flattering, as though I’ve been allowed into a secret society. In the years we’ve known each other it’s rare that the tables have been reversed; that I’m the one able to comfort her. I wonder how she was able to take out a loan against the house without Neil knowing – I’m assuming they have a joint mortgage – then decide the less I know, the better. There’s no one savvier than Melissa, and if she’s borrowing money to finance a new business, she’s doing it because she knows it’s a sure thing.

‘Things aren’t great between us at the moment,’ she says. ‘Neil lost a major contract earlier this year, and he’s worried about money. The new café will make up for the lost business, but it’ll take six months or so before it pays off.’

‘He’d understand that, surely?’

‘It’s impossible to talk to him at the moment. He’s distant. Bad-tempered.’

‘He seemed on form at lunch on Sunday.’

Melissa gives a humourless laugh. ‘Maybe it’s just me, then.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous – Neil adores you!’

She raises her eyebrows. ‘Not in the way Simon adores you.’ I blush. ‘It’s true. Rubbing your feet, cooking you supper, escorting you to work … that man dotes on you.’

I grin. I can’t help myself.

‘You’re lucky.’

‘We both are,’ I say, then realise how big-headed that sounds. ‘To have a second chance at happiness, I mean. Matt and I were together for so long we hardly noticed each other any more.’ I’m thinking out loud; putting into words what I’ve never really worked through before. ‘He slept with that girl because he was so used to having me around, it seemed unimaginable that anything could ever change it.’

‘It was brave of you to leave. With the kids so young, I mean.’

I shake my head. ‘Stupid. A knee-jerk reaction, fuelled by anger. Matt didn’t love the girl he slept with; I doubt he even liked her that much. It was a mistake. A symptom of a marriage we’d both taken for granted.’

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