Rayah didn’t pay much attention. She’d gone to university here and knew the city well; the busyness didn’t hold her captive. She walked outside and downhill towards the centre, towards Piccadilly Gardens that was now more concrete jungle than anything approaching green and the markets that were a perennial feature, not just at Christmas.
The Northern Quarter had grown over the last few years, brought back to life by the concept of city living at the turn of the millennium. Old mills and factories had been replaced with trendy apartments, independent bars and restaurants had chased the city livers with their disposable income and their desire to socialise and the Northern Quarter had moved from being a cholera ridden sewer back in the eighteen hundreds to the highlight of a city that was second in the country only to London.
Rayah loved it here, although she knew she’d never return here to live. Severton was home, but this place was nice to visit.
She had a vague idea where Minted was without having to use Google Maps. Tucked away on a side street just off the main stretch, it was sandwiched between a burlesque bar and a real ale pub. Minted was exclusive, members only, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t need to talk herself in. Somehow, her name would be on that afternoon’s guest list.
The door was open, the building an old factory, its former signage prominent as a feature, a Manchester bee now set in silver in the brickwork. Just back from the doorway stood a lithe woman, her features oriental, her hair long and dark. She was possibly the most beautiful creature Rayah had seen.
“Do you have your membership card?” She asked.
Rayah shook her head. “I’m hoping to see Drew O’Malley.”
“What’s your name?”
Rayah gave it, surprised that he was present. The man had more ventures than she had fingers, toes and quite possibly strands of hair. That he would be here at all was a surprise, unless Alex had been in touch with him.
What the fuck was Alex involved with?
“He’s in his office and said for you to be taken up. Follow me.”
Not feeling entirely confident, Rayah followed the woman through a grey door and up a set of metal stairs, the walls on either side adorned with old photographs from Manchester’s past.
The woman knocked on the door and opened it, not waiting for permission to enter. There were a few hushed words and then Rayah was beckoned in.
“What would you like to drink? I can make you an amazing Negroni. I promise it won’t be spiked.”
Rayah gave a nod. “Thank you. And a glass of water.”And something to settle her nerves.
“Sure. Drew, whisky?”
“I’ll take a rain check. I have Helene tonight.”
Rayah wondered who Helene was, a million images running through her head. Was she his wife? Lover? A call girl? His lifestyle was a million miles from hers.
“Sure. Give me a shout if you need me.”
“Thanks, Leah.” He gave her a nod and she closed the door leaving Rayah alone with perhaps the most intimidating man she’d ever met.
“Have a seat. I understand you have shopping to do so I won’t keep you long.”
She gave a nod. “You know my cousin, Alex.”
A smile crossed his lips. “I do indeed. Not that we can speak much these days. I trust he’s well?”
“He’s good. He’s Alex… he never gives away if he’s okay or not.”
Drew smiled. Silence reigned.
“He said to mention to you about some fires we’ve had around Severton. Two bodies were found after the fires, but they don’t think those people were killed because of it.”
“Tell Alex I’ve been following it.”
Rayah swallowed, her mouth dry. “He also said that Garrison didn’t find the button.”
This time Drew’s expression darkened. “Oh, he will have. What about the school?”
“Nothing. No one has any ideas. The police are saying it was probably vandals.”
