‘No, nothing like that.’
He took the note. ‘Nope. Don’t know him.’
‘Please have another look. He’s a friend of mine and I really want to help him.’
The man shoved the note in his pocket, licked his lips and then gave the phone screen his full attention. He squinted at it. ‘Looks a bit like Benny but—’
‘Yes! Benny! That would be him. Brilliant. Where can I find him?’
‘And what would you want with him?’ He eyed her suspiciously.
‘I want to help him. We used to be close and I heard he was down on his luck and thought maybe I could do something. So if you have any idea where I might find him that would be hugely helpful.’
The man scratched his head. ‘I’d have to have a think about that.’
‘I kind of need to know now…’
He nodded at her purse. ‘Oh right.’ Nora didn’t have a lot of cash on her. She wasn’t used to having to bribe people for information. She tipped out all her change, which thankfully included a few pound coins, and handed it to him. He became busy counting his haul. Nora cleared her throat.
‘All right,’ he said without looking up. ‘I’ve seen Benny going into a place off Saxilby Close behind the Lincoln.’
‘A place? Can you be more specific?’
‘There’s a row of about five houses but the others are boarded up. This one is a squat.’
‘Thank you, that’s been really helpful.’ Nora got out her phone and pulled up a map of the area. This time she was going on a proper Miss Marple mission.
12
Dixie was elated. This was her living the dream. Finally she was going places, unlike all those false starts. Countless times she had started a project only for it to fail or for her to discover that it had all been done before, like the time she thought she’d invented a new utensil. She still maintained that a foon was a much better name than a spork because that sounded like a sci-fi character.
She liked the whole vibe Elsie had, laidback and unhurried. And that was going to be her approach from now on. She was going to see all there was to see in the United Kingdom and do it at a leisurely pace. Partly because of Elsie’s top speed, but also because people lived their lives at a million miles an hour so when they stopped for a coffee and a browse at her latest posts on Instagram they wanted to escape all that. Or at least that was what she was hoping.
Dixie knew she was going to miss people. That was the only niggle she had about her new venture. She’d made some good friends and she cherished them, but thanksto technology it didn’t matter how far she roamed, they would still be just a phone screen away. Dixie sighed to herself. Everything was just about perfect.
Elsie began coughing and spluttering– even more than she had been. ‘Come on, old girl,’ said Dixie. She really couldn’t have her conking out. Renee had given Dixie a whistlestop tour of the engine and other vital organs of the van but it had been a lot to take in, plus Dixie had been distracted by bunting– well, who wasn’t?
When white puffs appeared in her rear-view mirror she told herself they weren’t coming from Elsie. But when the smoke started billowing so much so that she couldn’t see anything on the road behind her, she knew she had to accept there might be a teensy-weensy problem. She looked for somewhere to pull over but it was quite a busy road and there were no laybys or turnings. The van was losing speed and Dixie was starting to panic. She didn’t want to be marooned on the A607. Thunking great lorries used this route and she had visions of one idly ploughing over little Elsie with her inside, which was possibly a little extreme but she did have a tendency to imagine the worst. At last she saw a small side road up ahead. She indicated and, as if onboard with the plan, Elsie slowed down for the turning.
Dixie was hugely relieved to be out of the traffic as the van rattled along the narrow country lane. She noticed the high hedgerows and lack of passing places and sent up a silent prayer to the gods of motoring that she didn’t meet a tractor coming the other way. It feltlike she had swapped one problem for another. There was still nowhere for her to pull over safely. The white smoke continued to billow out from the back of the van. Dixie’s anxiety returned in a whoosh. She gripped the steering wheel. Why had she thought she could do this alone? What had she been thinking? When the rattling turned to limping, Dixie frantically scanned the lane for somewhere, anywhere she could stop. If it was someone’s driveway then so be it.
As she came to some trees and bushes, a track was just visible and Dixie turned off. This was little used and the poor campervan bumped unhappily over the uneven terrain until a fateful bang erupted from the back and it stopped. ‘Shit!’ said Dixie, although there was a certain relief in being at a standstill. She got out and watched smoke pour from the back of the van. ‘Gosh. Please don’t be on fire.’ All she had was half a cup of coffee and a bottle of mineral water to put it out with. Opening the van she grabbed the oven glove and used it to open the engine bay in case it was hot. She leapt out of the way as more smoke puffed out but thankfully there were no flames.
Panic started to subside. Elsie wasn’t going to spontaneously combust and take Dixie with her. She’d had visions of dog-walkers finding four melted tyres and a pair of trainers. Crisis had been averted and she needed to be thankful for that. She was also pleased that she hadn’t been streaming live when things had taken a turn for the worse. Looking around she could see better nowthe smoke from Elsie’s back end had disappeared. She was on the edge of some woodland. There were a few trees and bushes on her right and then fields beyond but when she walked around the other side of the van it was a different story. It was thick woodland for as far as she could see. She looked up at the leaves and closing her eyes she heard all manner of birdlife chorusing. It was quite special. Perhaps this was where she was meant to be. A splat on her shoulder jolted her back to reality.
*
It took Nora far longer than she had expected to track down the squat, and now she was here she wasn’t entirely sure what her plan was. The unloved building was down a dodgy-looking alleyway that was mainly garages and where industrial-sized bins went to die. There was a front door in various shades of old, peeling paint and windows too grimy to see through. Nora wasn’t easily spooked but every fibre of her being was telling her this was not a good idea. Two per cent of the population were victims of violent crime annually. Was she about to become part of that statistic?
She didn’t want to wimp out but she also had to apply caution. Her mother’s voice was playing in her head. ‘Nora, you have a head not a turnip. Use it.’ If she knocked on the door, would anyone answer? Probably not. And apart from Benicio, who were the people who lived somewhere like this? There could be a wonderfulgroup of people pleased to see her on the other side of the door, or she could be about to walk into a potentially dangerous situation. Even if it wasn’t dangerous, why would they let her in? It was too much to hope that Benicio would answer the door. And it was hardly likely they were expecting a Deliveroo so the chances were they’d just ignore it anyway. For a moment she wished she’d been wearing her turquoise jacket.
She figured the only way she was getting in was if there was a window or door already open. The windows were boarded up. She put a hand on the door and gave it a shove. Much to her surprise the door clicked open. The time for thinking had passed. She pushed the door a little more and peered into the dark hallway before slinking inside.
Her heart was thumping, which made it hard to hear anything else other than her blood pulsing through her ears. Inside, her eyes took a moment to adjust as it was only lit by fading sunlight from the dingy alleyway. The hallway was full of cardboard boxes and she negotiated her way carefully around them across a carpet so sticky it seemed to want to come with her at every step. With all her senses on high alert she inched towards an open door at the end of the hallway.
She was shocked by what she saw on the other side of the door. To say the kitchen was dirty would be an understatement, but then she’d not been expecting Nigella’s. Every surface was piled with rubbish. Bin bags of varying degrees of overflowing littered the floorand the smell of something rotting filled the air. Surely nobody lived here. That was when it dawned on her. Of course nobody lived here.
Nora’s shoulders slumped. She’d been duped by the guy in the park. He might have recognized Benicio but he was hardly likely to give his address to a complete stranger. She could have been anyone. The revelation made her relax a little. She wasn’t snooping around someone’s home; this was clearly abandoned. The best thing she could do was leave. She inched back down the hall, but then she heard something upstairs. Footsteps perhaps? As she reached the bottom of the stairs her curiosity got the better of her. Either the house was empty, in which case it wouldn’t matter if she looked upstairs, or was there still a tiny chance that Benicio was there?
