Who the hell was the guy they’d killed and how would they get away with it? He was confused. The pressure had got to him, and he struggled to think clearly. He panicked, wanting to open the car door and jump out. But he couldn’t leave Meagan to clear up his shit: it wasn’t fair. This was their mess; they had to sort it.
He watched Meagan as he drove, the way she concentrated on the road, her beautiful face, the shit she’d been through and now this.
‘I’m sorry.’
Meagan seemed pleased that the ice had finally broken. ‘We just need to get rid of the body. Move on, but we can never talk about it to anyone, you understand?’ She placed her hand on Oliver’s arm, gripping it gently.
‘Goes without saying. It’s not something I do regularly, I can assure you.’
Meagan turned. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’
Oliver saw a sign for Brent Cross Shopping Centre in north west London. He’d tried to focus his eyes, seeing images of gloved-man flashing through his mind.
‘It’s just up here towards Hendon,’ Meagan announced. She pointed at the dual carriageway as Oliver used the indicator and moved the car to the left side of the road.
‘Are you sure it’s safe?’ he asked.
‘Yeah. I can’t imagine anyone comes out here at night.’
Oliver turned left down a quiet side road and through an open gate at the bottom, spotting the sign, Reservoir.
‘This is the place,’ Meagan announced, as they pulled into the car park. The tyres rolled over the gravel, causing a loud crunching sound.
Oliver looked out at the long grass and the calm water, which glistened with the light from the street lamps.
They got out of the car, leaving their doors open. Oliver went to the boot and eyed the trunk.
Then Oliver walked to a concrete ledge and looked into the water, hoping it would be deep enough to swallow the trunk and gloved-man. Meagan came behind him and gripped him around his waist. He could feel her shaking.
They waited for a couple of minutes, holding each other, immersed in the peaceful surroundings, the distant sounds of vehicles moving along the dual carriageway; the drivers oblivious to what Oliver and Meagan were about to do.
Oliver shifted from Meagan’s hold, then walked to the boot of the car. He gripped the flimsy handle of the leather trunk and pulling it to the ground, watched it crash with the weight, aware of the indents it would leave in the earth.
He looked across the water. Rings appeared in several places like stones dropping from above, and midges hovered over the reservoir. The glint from the moon reflected on the water, glistening in their faces.
Meagan said, ‘Are you ready?’
Oliver had let go of the trunk and was spreading his fingers, opening and closing them to allow the blood to circulate. ‘Let’s get it over with.’
Oliver pushed the trunk while Meagan kept her distance, watching Oliver step to the end of the ledge. Oliver crouched, placing his hands under the trunk, flipping it over into the water and getting soaked with the splash-back.
They stood for a few moments, watching the bubbles rising as if the trunk was sinking into a hot cauldron, rather than a reservoir.
They realised the water wasn’t deep enough. The trunk was still visible.
Oliver turned. ‘Shit. Someone’s going to find it. We can’t leave it here! What if someone pulls him out? Opens the trunk? Sees what we’ve done?’ He moved forward, pressing his hands against the trunk, pushing hard, urging it to vanish to the bottom. ‘It’s too fucking shallow, Meagan. Look, we may as well have dumped him in a bloody bath.’
‘Get a grip, will you. How many people do you know that would just pull a trunk from a reservoir, huh? I know I wouldn’t. Would you? Besides, it’s pretty desolate here; no one comes to this place. Why would they? It’s London for God’s sake. The water is probably contaminated anyway.’
‘Well, if it wasn’t before, it sure as hell is now, Meagan. I can’t believe this shit, really. I can’t.’
Meagan made her way to the car, pissed off with the way Oliver was shouting at her.
He watched her, moving his eyes between Meagan and the trunk in the water. ‘Where are you going? Meagan, I’m talking to you. Hello.’
She was already halfway between the reservoir and the car park. He got up, brushing the mud from his knees, watching the trunk, knowing just how easily it could be found.
Oliver pulled into the car park at the back of Albuquerque House, killing the lights and the engine. As Meagan got out, she crouched over towards him, brushing the back of her right hand along his face. ‘Will you come up? I don’t want to be alone just yet.’
Oliver’s heart raced as he struggled to contain the excitement of being in her company.
‘Park the car in that space there,’ she said, getting out of the car.
He watched as Meagan crossed the car park and did as he had been told.
She let him in through the fire escape. ‘Thank you. We need to talk about earlier, and what happens now. I’m frightened, Oliver.’
They were standing alone in the communal hall, worried they’d be caught.
Oliver’s heart raced, his face flushed with anticipation and his body shook with adrenaline. Meagan drove him wild. He struggled to understand how he’d feel like this after earlier: the break-in, the body in the trunk, what they both did. It all seemed to add fuel to his already raging fire.
He seized her hand, pushing her against the wall, the light from the lift showing the passion on his face. Oliver turned, drawing his hands through her hair, moving her head back, planting kisses on her neck and chest, then guiding his leg to her crotch, pushing between her thighs.
She lifted her finger, placing it on his wet lips. ‘Not here.’
In the kitchen. Oliver pushed a heap of papers from the counter onto the floor. The crash caused Meagan to jump.
He gripped her around the waist, lifting her onto the edge of the table. They looked into each other’s eyes, driven by overwhelming passion, holding each other’s gaze. Oliver leant forward, pushing his lips on hers, both their mouths open, intense short breaths, hard kissing, biting. He moved towards her ear, breathing deeper, causing her to lose control. She was quivering, goose pimples covering her arms as he gently blew warm air onto her lobes, sucked on them.
Oliver pulled her towards him, pushing himself between her legs, gently kissing the top of her arms, caressing her shoulders, tracing his fingers to her breasts, ripping open her blouse, buttons hitting the floor as he pulled her closer.
Oliver removed his T-shirt. Meagan glimpsed his firm chest, tight stomach and broad shoulders.
He lifted her dress, at the same time removing his jeans, kicking them to the side and entering Meagan for the first time.
They sat in the kitchen, wrapped around each other, both naked and feeling immense satisfaction. The passion between them was electric, an overwhelming release for what they’d been through together.
After a few minutes, Meagan broke the silence. ‘What now?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Will I see you again? Rob’s back tomorrow. I can’t bear the thought of him returning.’
Oliver stood. The worry concerning her husband returning was too much. He couldn’t be here. ‘I have to go, Meagan. I’ll call you.’
She threw on a bathrobe and walked him to the door, peeping out to make sure the communal hall was empty.
As Oliver stepped out of the apartment and stood at the top of the stairs, he noticed the front door to apartment seven was open. ‘Meagan, I shut the door when I dragged the trunk out here earlier. I made sure of it. I pulled it hard and tested it. It was closed.’