I rub his shoulder, because I don’t know what else to say, but I want to comfort him. We stay like that for a long time, quiet as we look out the windows into the dark night. He squeezes my hand and gets up, breaking our contemplative silence. When he leaves the room, I spend a long time wondering about the boy he once was as I pack away my materials.
Sixteen
When I get back to work after lunch on Friday, I find Dad’s office door closed and voices coming from inside. I put my ear against the wood and listen, picking out Jay’s recognisable cadence. God, I love his voice. I think I’m ruined for all other accents now that his is the one I hear every day.
Wondering what he’s here for, I turn my computer back on and start completing the tasks I need to finish before the end of the day. About a half an hour later, Dad’s office door opens and the two men emerge, shaking hands. Jay has an ecstatic look on his face, and Dad looks pretty happy, too.
“Here’s to a successful endeavour,” says Dad cheerily as he lets go of Jay’s hand and turns to go back inside his office.
“We’re going to win this thing, Hugh, you mark my words,” Jay calls after him.
Dad chuckles as he waves Jay off.
Does this mean Dad’s gone ahead and accepted the case? I try to act nonchalant as I type and Jay comes to perch himself on the edge of my desk.
“Guess what?” he beams.
“Dad’s taking your case?” I smile at him.
“Yeah! How’d you know?” he says, all playful and hyper. “I think you might be psychic, Watson. I should incorporate you into my act.”
“Oh, my God, you really are delighted about this,” I say, shaking my head at him but unable to stop smiling.
“Yep. The plan is back on track.”
“Plan?”
It takes him a second to answer. “To show Una Harris she messed with the wrong magician.”
“I thought you preferred illusionist,” I laugh.
“I do, but the two ‘M’s just made the sentence sound sexier.”
“If you say so.”
I continue working, but he doesn’t leave. Instead, he pulls his phone from his pocket and starts tapping on the screen. Glancing at him, I notice that, despite his invigorated mood, his eyes are a little tired. Sometimes I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and hear him pacing around in his room. I haven’t mentioned it to him, though.
“What time do you get off work, John?”
“John?”
“John Watson, Matilda. Goodness, keep up.”
I shake my head at him. “I get off at half past five. Why?”
“I want you to come somewhere with me. I promise a fun time will be had by all.”
“And where is this fun taking place?”
Instead of answering, he thrusts his phone at me. It displays a tweet that contains a time, a date, and a place. The date and time are for today, and the place is a well-known meet-up area in the city centre.
“I didn’t know you had a Twitter account,” I say, swiping to his profile. My jaw practically drops when I see he’s got more than 100,000 followers. “Wow, Jay, you’re, like, hugely popular.”
“You sound surprised. Should I be offended?” he teases.
“No, of course not. It’s just unexpected, that’s all. What does the tweet mean?”
He takes the phone back from me and shoves it in his pocket. “I have a lot of teenage fans who aren’t old enough to get into the venues where I perform, so sometimes I do random outdoor meet-and-greets with them.”
My smile grows wide. “You do that? That’s one of the nicest things I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, these kids mean a lot to me. I look at them, and I see myself at that age. I wanna give something back, you know?”
I stare at him, feeling myself growing fonder and fonder of this man by the second.
“So, will you come?” he prods. “Jessie will be there, too. She’s going to film it for YouTube.”
“Yes, I’ll come,” I say eagerly.
“Great, I’ll pick you up at five-thirty.” He bends over the table to ruffle my hair, and then he’s gone.
When I’m finished with work, I spruce myself up a little, letting my hair down out of the twist I’d had it in and changing from my heels into the reliable flats I always carry in my bag. If this thing is outdoors, I’m guessing there’s going to be a lot of standing involved.
“Knock knock,” I hear Jessie call as I quickly swipe on some lip gloss and leave the office bathroom. As I walk out, I see she’s holding a small video camera. Jay’s standing to the side of her, just out of range of the lens.
“Swit swoo, hot stuff coming through,” she whistles, and I shake my head at her, blushing. Jay’s repeatedly flicking a die high up into the air and catching it effortlessly.
“Stop filming me,” I say, self-conscious.
Hitching my bag up on my shoulder, I wave goodbye to Dad, who’s still in his office. We leave down the narrow staircase and out onto the street, but Jessie keeps on filming.
“I swear to God, I’ll sue you if I see myself in this YouTube video,” I warn her. “I work in a solicitor’s office, so you know I’ll do it.”
“Oh, come on. We need a bit of eye candy to get the teenage boy demographic interested,” Jessie jokes. “I’m sure they don’t want to look at Jay’s ugly mug the whole time.”
Jay’s mug is far from ugly, but no way am I admitting that out loud.
“Yeah, Watson. You’ve got to do this. It will help my career,” Jay agrees, a smug look on his face as we walk. He throws his arm around my shoulders and gives them a squeeze, then looks behind to Jessie. “Make sure you get a few ass shots in. Matilda has a rear end deserving of online attention.”
I shove him with my elbow, and he laughs. “If you film my arse, I swear to God, I really will sue.”
He raises his eyebrow at me, and I can’t help the tiny smile forcing its way onto my face. Then he takes things a step too far when he leisurely slides his hand down my back to my bottom. I let out a tiny gasp when he gives it a good, firm squeeze. Immediately, I swipe his hand away.
“Don’t do that again,” I warn, annoyed by the charming grin on his face, and the fact that I still find it charming after what he just did. Jessie’s having a good old laugh as she trails behind us.
“Oh, come on. Don’t be pissed,” says Jay, trying to placate me. “We were talking about your ass, darlin’. I couldn’t myself.”
“He’s an arse man,” Jessie puts in, nodding her head in agreement.
I scowl at the both of them, but I can’t stay angry for too long.
A few minutes later we come into view of the meeting spot where Jay’s fans are waiting, and I have to keep my jaw from dropping. There’s at least a hundred people, maybe more. Jay sticks his finger in his mouth and lets out a loud whistle as we approach; heads turn in his direction, and they all start cheering. He climbs up onto the high wall surrounding a nearby business and gives them all a theatrical bow.
I stand off to the side with Jessie as she captures it on film. She’s not the only one, either. Half the kids here have their phones out, recording videos.
“Thanks for coming, everyone,” says Jay loudly from above. Funnily enough, the acoustics are pretty good, so he doesn’t have to shout to be heard. “Wanna see something cool?” he asks, taking out the die he’d had back in the office.
With it resting between his thumb and index finger, he flicks it dexterously up into the air. We all watch as it goes up and then comes back down, and I wish I hadn’t blinked, because somewhere on the way down one becomes two. The crowd claps loudly, whistles ringing out, while Jay takes the two dice and flicks them the same as before. They multiply again, becoming four, and he starts juggling them. They continue to multiply, moving in a circle through the air, his hands as quick as lightning. Soon he’s got about ten of them on the go, and I can’t figure out how he did it. I didn’t see him slip any out of his sleeves, or slide them from his pockets. They literally appeared out of thin air.