… hurling myself towards the source of the sound.
He’s there, swearing loudly, fumbling at a magazine that won’t clip in. His head jerks up as I charge in and at the last moment, he simply hurls the useless chunk of metal at me then turns head-on to face me.
The impact as I hit knocks the wind from my lungs, and I’m gasping back my air as sheer momentum carries both of us forward then crashing down. The second impact caves my chest again but we’re rolling together, grappling for a hold, then staggering upright…
He lands a punch into my ribs, but I answer with a headbutt, gripping him by one shoulder as I crash my forehead into his face. He roars, staggering back, but I lose my hold on him and he’s lunging for my neck, my throat… and…
I feel it before I hear it… a creak in the floor under us that has me pulling away, stepping back. But eyes like pinpricks, he follows me, trying to tighten his stranglehold on me as double-handed, holding his wrists, I fight him off…
Floorboards should spring and bend. These shift uneasily, spongy and treacherous. “Don’t be an idiot,” I splutter. “It’s caving under us. D’you want us both to go down?”
A snarl is all the reply I get.
“Fuck you!” And releasing my grip on him, I deliver the blow he didn’t expect, an open-handed slap over his ears.
It can’t do much harm, but he yelps. For a moment his hold on my neck slackens and I jerk backwards, pulling myself free of him. In a kind of sing-song motion, my open palm swings back and catches him square on the chest. And I push.
He levers backwards, hands first outstretched, then windmilling sideways, eyes widening as his brain finally connects with his peril.
Hurling myself away, I crash back against the wall, pressing myself close, watching as he totters over boards pulpy with age and rot…
The cry of alarm…
… then of real fear…
With a splintering wrench and a puff of sawdust and woodworm, the floor descends under him…
The figure staggering for a footing that isn’t there…
The arms, flinging up…
The shriek…
… rapidly diminishing downwards.
And the thump from below: the sack-of-potatoes thump of a soft impact.
Then silence.
I don’t go close. And I’m disinclined to lean too far forward. But through the gash in the floor, I can see the legs, twisted at impossible angles to each other.
Footsteps again…
From beyond the dazzle, Sunglasses-Girl strolls across the floor, stopping well short of the hole, craning to see. She tuts, shaking her head slightly. “That was very silly of him. I warned him to be careful.”
There’s the finest of cuts to her cheek; a thin slice, seeping a little blood. If it came from my Glock, I only missed solving all my problems by a fraction of an inch.
Behind the dark lenses, I see the movement of eyes as she looks at me. A knuckle pressed to her mouth, she titters, as though someone had just told her some corny joke.
Knock knock
Who’s there?
Father.
Father who?
The father, the son and into the hole ‘e goes…
“You don’t seem very sympathetic,” I comment. “Julia is it?”
She shrugs. “Julia will do.” Then, turning that owl-eye face on me, “He was useful while he lasted. But you don’t seem very sympathetic either.”
It’s my turn to shrug. “We all choose which side to play for. He chose yours.”
I move back a little, checking my footing, that my weight is firmly placed. “There’s a bit of a pattern developing here, wouldn’t you say? Do all the men in your life finish by falling from a great height?”
She smiles slightly, speaking with all the emotion of one delivering a recipe for cooking up leftovers. “Not all of them, no. Others come to different ends.”
“A real femme fatale. All the men in your life are complete saps, then?”
“Oh, look at him!” Her voice mocks, but the emotion sounds fake. “There’s your daughter, shacked up with those two men she’s fucking. And that ageing hooker of yours. Are all the women in your life whores?”
My hackles rise, but I inject calm into my voice. “My daughter is a happily married woman. As for Mitch, the deal she offered was the deal she delivered. She was an honest whore.” I jerk my head to the gash in the floor. “Can you make the same claim?”
She stiffens, chin raising.
“What did you offer him?” I say. “He sounded pretty upset when he thought you’d been hurt. And the other one? Andres. When you pushed him from the high-rise. For that matter, what about Baxter? Does he think you’re lovers?
Her head tilts and she smirks. “I don’t think so.”
I cast one way then the other. “Where is Baxter? That was his number the messages came from. So where is he?”
Her smile returns. She holds up a phone, rocking it in her hand. “His phone. My messages. You’ll see Baxter soon.”
“What’s all this about? What do you want, Julia?”
She wrinkles her nose. “You.”
“Do I know you?”
“No, I don’t think you do. But I know you. I remember you.” Her head tilts. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
“How could I? I can’t see you.”
Black panda-eyed sunglasses stare at me, then in a swift motion, she swipes them away and for the first time, I have a real view of her face.
I stare at her.
Nothing…
Nothing of her feels familiar.
Her eyes narrow. “You don’t remember me at all, do you? You really don’t know who I am?”
“Should I?”
“You had me in that hellhole of yours, Blessingmoors. Then you shipped me out to Eastern Europe. Ten years of crawling through the mud, planting potatoes, picking potatoes, not eating much but fucking potatoes.” She puts the glasses back on. “You even said I looked like a potato.”
Something crawls in my memory. “Did I? Why would I do that? You’re attractive enough. At least for a man who doesn’t mind some Black Widow in his female.”
She looks away, muttering. “I wasn’t very pretty then. You were horrible anyway. But you made it worse.”
And rising from the depths, it surfaces…
A girl…
Older than the rest with a round face and blotchy skin.
Tipping up her chin to get a better look. “Mmmm… Can’t say the same about you, can we? Face like a potato. You’re never going to be pretty.”
“I remember you now… You’re right, I treated you appallingly. But… that’s not going to get you my sympathy. Because you’re no better than I was. You knew my daughter. She was one of you. And yet, you abducted her. Abused her. Threatened her child.”
Her face slackens. “What d’you mean? I knew your daughter? What are you talking about?”
“That day. Yes, I was deeply unpleasant to you. I sent you off for agricultural work. If you want your revenge against me, I can understand that. But what had Jenny ever done to you?”
“Jenny? Jenny…?”
“She was in the line-up with you that day. She had a damaged ankle from a badly-fitting cuff. I gave Jenkins a bollocking for it. Jenny is my daughter.”
“But… your daughter’s called Charlotte. Stuck-up little rich-bitch… Got it all…”
“Try checking your facts if you want to claim the moral high ground. Jenny, who was standing beside you… one of you… Jenny. Is. My. Daughter.”
“I didn’t recognise her. She looks nothing like…”
“I didn’t recognise her either, when I found her again as an adult. Or I wouldn’t have if I’d not already known who she is. But your Jenny and my Charlotte are the same person. ”
“But… she’s beautiful…”
“She grew up. So did you.”
The smile is gone.
And abruptly, so is she.
There’s nothing between the spotlights but empty air and dust. Beyond them, more darkness stretches over a dim, wide expanse of floor, vanishing to a black nothingness beyond.
And with a clunk, the spots quickly fade and fall dark.
Now what?
I wait…
Nothing but dust and darkness.
Enough already.
Turning on my heel… Time to go…
From somewhere in the dark, beyond where Julia was playing her games with the spotlights… A moan…
Or a whimper… A plea…
I hold, frozen in place, listening, my head cocked to pick up the sound.
Another moan, louder now.
Backing off, I return to the office, scanning the floor with my flashlight until I locate the Glock.
Then gun in hand, moving carefully, I pick my way around the outer wall. Always staying by the edges, checking my footing before I place my weight, I make a circuit of the space.
It takes a while, but I’m not in a hurry.
Finally, I come to a door. Light spills around the edges. And from beyond the door, the sound of pain…
*****