“Feather?” I said. Just like that. I was amazed at how much easier it was than even a week ago.
“I was going to say puff of smoke, but okay. Come here,” he said. I hauled myself to my feet and went to sit on his knee. He squeezed me so hard my bra squeaked. “I heard what Dill called you. And Ruby’s talking rubbish, you know. He doesn’t call babysitters that. Just you.”
I stood up, stretching-he really had squeezed me quite tight-and he ran his hands up and down my body. Big strong hands. Safe hands. I remembered Kazek catching the camera before it hit the floor.
“It’s not called rubbish now,” I said. “Ruby’s talking recycling.”
He laughed again even though it wasn’t really funny. “So, what do you fancy for tea?” he said. “T-bone steak or Lobster Thermidor.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “Not sure I’m hungry enough to do justice to a T-bone. And I had lobster for lunch… ”
“In that case, then, maybe I can interest you in some tuna, pasta, and sweet corn?”
“Perfect!” I said. “As served in The Ivy. I think I’ll just take a wee stroll along the beach first, mind you. Cooped up all day, you know.”
“Want company?” said Gus.
“You finish your letter,” I said. “But can I ask you a question?” He nodded. “Why aren’t you typing it? Is it to make it more personal?” To me, letters on writing paper were so unusual that they seemed kind of weird now. Like only stalkers would send them.
“Haven’t got a word processor,” said Gus.
“You haven’t got Word on your computer?” I said.
“What makes you think I’ve got a computer?” said Gus, looking around as if he expected to see one magically appear. Right enough, I hadn’t seen it around, but I knew he had one.
“You said you looked stuff up,” I reminded him.
“It’s in the workshop,” he told me. “I use it for graphics. No need for Word.”
“Right,” I said. I thought Ruby would feel left out if she was the only one at nursery who didn’t use a computer, but then maybe she got a shot when she chummed him to work-when he was working, that is, when he didn’t have sculptor’s block. I thought of what Steve had said and put it out of my mind again as quickly as it had come in there. I said no more. Dill might be calling me Mummy, but they were Gus’s kids and if he didn’t think they needed a computer yet, I wasn’t going to argue.
It was nearly completely dark outside, too dark to walk on the track with its tufts and potholes, but okay down on the beach with the long sweep of empty sand. I put my hands deep in the pockets of the coat I’d borrowed-it had looked so much warmer than mine-and with my head down against the wind, I took off along the bay.
So Ros had phoned. If no one else had called since and I went back now and dialled 1471, I could probably get right on to her. Tell her to call her sister, ask her what she was planning to do to help Kazek. How could I explain it to Gus, though? Say I wanted to get some cleaning tips? But she wasn’t really much of a cleaner, was she? Gizzy had said as much. What was that word Kazek had used-the magic word that described her powers? It was written down on the scrap of paper tucked in my jeans, but too dark to read it now.
Well, I’d try the phone later if I got the chance, when Gus was out of the way. And even if I never got through to her, I could tell her sister she was okay. I’d as good as told her anyway-that she had packed her stuff and taken it with her-but it wouldn’t hurt to follow up with some actual news. Via Gus. Like the news about her taking her things had come via Gus.
And that’s why I was out on this walk, even if I didn’t want to think the thoughts out loud. Maybe Ros had phoned Gizzy too, and I could ask her. I could check that the cops had really been on to Gizzy about Ros’s things. I was just making sure. As I turned up the rise towards the office and shop, I was glad to see a light still shining. I knocked on the door and tried the handle.
“We’re closed,” she bawled. “Ring the emergency number and leave a message.”
“It’s Jessie,” I bawled back. I could hear her sigh right along the passageway and through the closed door.
“What do you want?” she said, opening up on the chain.
“Has Ros called you?” I asked. “Oh, gonny let me in, Giz. I’m freezing.”
“Ros?” she said. “What makes you think that?”
“She phoned Becky’s house,” I said. “Got the bad news.” Gizzy sat back down at the computer and pushed her hair back with her hands. Whatever she was trying to do, it wasn’t going well by the look of her. “Do you think we should tell the police?” I went on. “I know they weren’t going to pursue it but… ”
“Eh?” said Gizzy. She was only half-listening, looking between a manual cracked open flat by her keyboard and whatever mysteries were on the screen. “Tell them what?”
“Since they took the trouble to phone,” I said.
“Did they? What did you tell them? Oh bloody hell, I have! I did! I just did that!” She stuck her middle finger up at the screen and picked up the manual to give it a closer look. I was glad she wasn’t looking at me. I’m sure my face fell.
“The police didn’t call here to ask about Ros disappearing?” I said.
“Who told you that?” she said. “They’ll say anything to shut you up.”
The strict truth was that no one had told me that. Gus had told me that police had said Ros took her things, and when I asked him if they’d heard it from Gizzy, he said they must have. Maybe they were “just saying anything” to shut Gus up too.
“I tell you what,” said Gizzy. She pushed her glasses up onto her head and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “If she’d phoned here today, I’d have reached down the line and dragged back by her scrawny wee Polish neck. She’s left me in total bleeding chaos.”
“Can I have a go on the computer, Giz?” I said. I was feeling in the pocket of my jeans for the scrap of paper.
“Can you do spreadsheets?”
“No,” I said. “I just want to Google something.”
Gizzy rolled backwards in her chair. “Be my guest. See if you can pick up a virus that’ll melt the whole thing down so I’ll never have to look at it again.”
I Googled translation devices, picked the first one, hit Polish to English and copied in prawnikiem from the note. Lawyer, it told me. Ros was a lawyer? Working as cleaner in a caravan site? Jesus, Kazek might be a brain surgeon working as a… it occurred to me then that I didn’t know what Kazek and Wojtek had come here to do.
“Cheers,” I said. “See you Friday.”
“Get ready for Armageddon,” said Gizzy. “After the October half-term break’s the worst clean of the year. Site’s full and the weather’s so crap that they’re all in their vans mucking them up. I’m just warning you.”
“In your own special way,” I said, but she was back to the manual again and didn’t hear me.
Ros was a lawyer. I could sort of see how that would help Kazek, although if Gary the Gangster was the sort to cut someone’s throat, he didn’t seem to have much respect for the law. And if Ros did respect the law, then how did she square the wads of fifties away? And why did she leave? Why didn’t Gus ask her? Nothing he had told me made any kind of sense at all.
But I had to trust Gus. He had turned my life around, made me hope that it was going to be something worth living. Damn Steve for making me doubt him! I shoved my hands even deeper into the coat’s pockets, and that’s when I felt something I hadn’t noticed before. Right deep down in the lining, there was the unmistakable cold jagged shape of a bunch of keys.