“Well, that’s stupid.”
He stopped abruptly in front of Thomas’s car, staring wide-eyed at the windscreen. An unhappy face drawn on a paper was pinned beneath the windscreen wiper.
“What’s that?”
Thomas strode around Scott and grabbed it with a questioning glance back.
Scott schooled his face. “No idea.”
Thomas checked around them, but he had a habit of drawing stares wherever he went. Scott could feel the prickle on the back of his neck, though, knew he was being watched. He marched over to Thomas and snatched the drawing from his hand.
“Come on, let’s go.”
Thomas frowned when Scott scrunched the face up and shoved it into his pocket as he moved to the passenger side. He dragged his gaze from Scott and checked his tyres.
“I don’t get it. I haven’t parked badly. They’re within the lines –”
“Probably some kid messing about.”
Thomas scanned the car park one last time before unlocking the doors.
Once inside, Thomas twisted in his seat to look at Scott. “You okay? You’re looking a little pale…more pale than usual.”
“Just a bit breathless.” Scott pulled his seatbelt across his lap and fastened it in the clip. “Think yesterday might have caught up with me.”
Thomas nodded and put the car into drive. Scott kept darting looks in the mirror to see if they were being followed.
“Why £100,000?” Thomas asked.
Scott hummed. “What?”
“£100,000. Why did you need that much?”
“Because that’s how much I owe.”
Thomas’s nostrils flared. “Butwhy?”
Scott thought about lying, but then slouched in defeat.
“The Priory.”
“The…Priory.” Thomas blinked. “The rehab clinic? Isn’t that where all the rich celebrities go when they need to get clean?”
Scott swallowed the lump in his throat. “If you pay enough, it’s residential, but it’s expensive. Two months is £100,000. But we’d tried everything else, and when we went there and met some of the nurses, therapists and psychologists…it really did feel like our last chance.”
“Your sister… She was an addict.”
Scott hadn’t told Thomas much about Megan, but he’d hinted.
“Yes. I wanted to get her in as soon as possible and thought I could blackmail one of my clients. I set my phone up in our hotel room, recorded us while we… You can probably guess what we were doing…”
Thomas nodded.
“He reported me to the police; I got arrested, charged. I knew I was looking at time, and I knew Megan wouldn’t survive without me. I asked for the money from someone else, he paid The Priory directly, Megan went to rehab, I went to Brixton, and three years later, I need to pay back my debt.”
“It worked?” Thomas asked. “The rehab?”
Scott curled his toes in his trainers and kept his voice level. “Megan isn’t taking drugs anymore if that’s what you mean.”
