The Guilty Couple(23)

Was there some way she could use what she knew to her advantage? Did Olivia have money? She didn’t think so. Beth, Dani’s mate who was a guard at the prison, had told her that Olivia’s release address was a flat rented by someone called Ayesha Okoye. The name didn’t ring a bell and it didn’t come up on the PNC. If Olivia was loaded surely she’d have got her own flat?

That just left Dom. He’d told Dani he wouldn’t lend her cash, not couldn’t, which meant he’d got the finances. He just needed a nudge in the right direction.

Now, her pulse quickens as she hears the sound of a door closing and a lock being turned. They’re coming out the front, at least she hopes it’s ‘they’. She only caught sight of one hooded figure that she thinks was Smith. She needs Olivia to have been in the house too.

She inches closer to the front of the house so she can get a good look at whoever just came out and a slow grin spreads across her face as she spots two hooded figures crouching behind the garden wall. They’re having a silent argument, gesturing at each other about something Olivia is holding in her hand. Could there be a key on the end of that lanyard ribbon? Olivia keeps trying to drop it but Smithy shakes her head, no. Slowly Dani slides her phone out of her pocket, zooms in on the figures and takes a photo. Her smile widens. That should be worth thirty grand.





Chapter 17


OLIVIA


I can’t breathe. I’m doubled over and I’m sucking in cold, damp London air but none of it seems to be getting into my lungs. I don’t know how long Smithy and I just ran – ten minutes, fifteen? – but it’s longer than I ever managed on Couch to 5k. Smithy was miles ahead of me the whole way, glancing back as she reached the end of each street to check I was still with her. I’ve never run so fast in my life. Amazing what the threat of prison can do for your athletic ability.

When Smithy shouted that there was a cop in the front garden I flew down the stairs, heart thundering, but I couldn’t see anyone when I peered from behind a curtain. It was a woman, Smithy hissed, a plainclothes detective that had nicked her a couple of times over the years. She couldn’t remember her name. I didn’t need her to. I knew exactly who it was.

‘Smithy, I think I’m feeling better now.’ As I straighten up I get a whiff of whatever’s rotting in the dumpster we’re crouching behind and double over again.

‘Urgh.’ Smithy jumps away as I throw up. She retreats to a safe distance and leans against a wall, arms crossed over her chest. She’s not even breathing heavily.

I wipe a tissue I found in my pocket over my mouth and straighten up. ‘Where’d you learn to run like that?’

‘Dunno. Always been good at running. You should have seen me on sports day at primary school. I cleaned up. You all right?’ She steps closer then recoils, wrinkling her nose.

‘I’m fine.’ I gesture for her to follow me out of the alley.

‘Oi, you twat, you dropped this.’ Smithy crouches down and picks up the lanyard that must have fallen out of my pocket when I was looking for a tissue. We argued about whether to ditch it or take it with us before we made a run for it. I thought we should drop it in the driveway to make it look like it had fallen out of Rosa’s pocket as she left the house. Smithy said we should keep it in case we needed it again. I was so scared I was hyperventilating. We hadn’t found anything and there was no way I was going to break in anywhere, ever again. But there was no time to argue so I pocketed the key and we ran.

‘Sorry.’ I take the lanyard from her and shove it deep into my pocket.

‘So what happens now then?’

‘I go back to Ayesha’s and you go back to your flat.’

‘That’s not what I mean.’ She shakes her head. ‘What’s the plan about getting the evidence?’

‘Nothing.’

She looks at me incredulously.

‘There’s nothing we can do. We didn’t find anything so …’ The adrenaline’s starting to wear off and I feel tired and empty. I just want to get back to Ayesha’s and have a glass of wine.

Smithy must be able to tell how exhausted I am because she shrugs and says, ‘All right then. Give us a text later.’ She lightly punches me on the arm. ‘Have a shower and clean your teeth when you get back, yeah? You bloody stink.’

I’m about to make a comment that she doesn’t exactly smell like roses either when my phone buzzes in my back pocket. I slide it out and unlock the screen, expecting to see a message from Ayesha, Grace or the recruitment company. But the email notification that’s flashed up isn’t from any of them. It’s from the man who broke my heart and betrayed me. It’s an email from Jack.





Chapter 18


DOMINIC


The lift doors open and the damp, diesel smell of the underground car park floods Dominic’s nose. He rubs his hands over his face and steps out of the lift. It’s been a long day and he’s had a shitload of work to catch up on after taking yesterday afternoon ‘off sick’. If one more person says his name (‘Dom, could you …’ ‘Dom, I don’t suppose …’ ‘Dom, one second of your time …’) he’s going to lose his shit. He’s sick of people, of their voices, their faces, their bodies and their smells. He’d like to up sticks, move to a jungle and make his living taking photographs of rare plants and animals. Not that he knows the first thing about photography but how hard could it be?