‘He must be getting on a bit.’
‘His mind certainly wasn’t the clearest, but it wasn’t just that. When his daughter arrived, it was as if… as if he was afraid of her.’
‘What? That’s not exactly the close knit family bond I was expecting.’
‘She is a pretty scary woman.’
‘Well, by all accounts she’s the one in charge.’
‘People trafficking, you think?’ he asked, trying to figure out how such a thing could possibly put him in their way. Nothing he was hearing was explaining why they might be interested in him. Interested enough to try to kill him, more than once. ‘So why would they be watching the Aurora?’
Deborah shrugged before draining her glass and pouring herself another. She offered him a top up. He hesitated, then nodded. ‘I think you’re wrong about one thing though,’ he said.
‘What’s that?’
‘Guns. Papa Begovich might not have liked guns. His little girl seems to like them well enough.’
‘You saw them? Positive, definite evidence of fire arms?’
‘I’ve got bullet holes in my car. Proof enough for you?’
‘Fuck! What the hell happened?’
‘I decided not to try Serbian food after all. They were disappointed I wanted to leave.’
‘They shot at you!? When? Why haven’t I heard about this?’
‘No reports of a man breaking sprinting records to get to his car while several thugs shoot at him in the middle of the day? Seems your local intelligence is not all that, after all.’
‘Shit!’ she said slowly, pushing her heavy hair back over her shoulder and shaking her head.’Never mind informants, why did no-one call the police? And why do these sorts of things seem to happen around you, Tudor? What exactly have you got yourself mixed up in?’
‘That, Debs,’ he said, looking at her seriously for once, ‘is what I hoped you were going to tell me.’
Emily finished her own mushroom and anchovy pizza and toyed with the idea of starting on the pepperoni. She wasn’t keen on spicy food, but she wanted to eat at least some of it. Just so it wasn’t all sitting there waiting for her father, when he eventually bothered to come home. She checked the time on her phone. Gone ten. She had explored the flat, helped herself to coca-cola from the enormous fridge, and eaten her pizzawhile watching rubbish reality TV. She had told herself she wasn’t waiting for her dad, but that wasn’t true. As one hour turned into two however, her annoyance hardened into something more like hurt.
She picked up the remote and scrolled through the available films again. She sped past all the cheerful family movies, ignored the action film she had originally selected, and found the zombie horror flick he had not wanted her to watch. She selected it. A box flashed up demanding a password.
‘Crap,’ she muttered. She was about to give up when she remembered it was her father who set up the apartment for Charlie. Her father who would have chosen a password that had nothing to do with the person using it, even if it was something as unimportant as the Sky package. She thought for the briefest of moments before entering her own birthdate. Access granted.
‘Bingo! So much for Mr High Bloody Security,Dad,’ she said aloud. As the movie started she settled back into the sofa, pulling the second pizza box onto her lap. ‘Might as well,’ she muttered, opening it and helping herself to a slice. It was properly dark outside now and she hadn’t bothered to turn on any of the trendy lamps so that the only light in the room was from the TV. She chewed and watched, trying to ignore her own buildinganxiety. The film was full of gore and jump scares and the spicy food was irritating her stomach. Quantities of highly caffeinated cola was doing nothing to help her nerves. After half an hour she was jittery. There came a quiet point in the film, full of suspense, and into this silence came a small noise from the hallway outside the flat. She heard it, but ignored it. Until it came again. She looked at the door. It didn’t sound like footsteps. It was more like scratching noises. She told herself she was letting the horror movie get to her, but the sounds were real and persistent. And the more she listened, the more she knew whatever it was had not moved on. It had stopped at her door. From where she sat she could see that the locks were properly closed. She knew her dad would have ensured seriously strong mechanisms to keep the apartment secure. Even so, the noises were unnerving. She hit pause on the remote, figuring the last thing she needed was a screaming jump scare at that moment. The sounds outside continued.
Emily got to her feet. She thought of calling her dad, but to say what? That something was walking around outside her door? He’d see she’d been watching the zombie film. She could just imagine all the I-told-you-so’s if he had to come hurrying back because she’dspooked herself with a movie he didn’t want her to watch in the first place.
‘No way,’ she said to herself, her own voice sounding loud in the quiet room now. Summoning her courage she marched over to the door, took a breath, and put her eye to the viewing hole. Nothing. Nobody walking about. Nobody lurking in the hallway. And the noises had stopped. She could just go back to her film, like a grown up person, and forget about it.
Or she could open the door, just to prove to herself it was all nothing. A draft from an open window in the stairwell, the old lift playing up, a mouse. Nothing to worry about. She reached forwards and took hold of the door handle. She was on the point of turning it, and the upper lock with it, when the noises started up again.
She let go, jumping back, before forcing herself to look through the spy hole again.
Nothing.
Then, a snuffling noise, quite clear, warm and furry.
‘A cat,’ she told herself. ‘Someone’s cat has got out.’ Decisively, without giving herself time to change her mind, she wrenched open the door and looked down.
It wasn’t a cat.
She readjusted her eye level, raising it to meet the large, golden stare of the huge, shaggy, grey dog that stood in front of her. Relief made her voice breathy.
