The Visitors(40)

He looked startled, like he’d been caught in a dazzling light.

‘I don’t have a lunchtime as such because I finish my shift at one,’ he said quickly. ‘I have to go straight for the bus.’

‘I see,’ Holly replied, feeling a poke of irritation at his description of yet another stringent routine. ‘See you around then, Dave.’

‘It’s… David,’ he said. ‘I prefer to be called David… if that’s OK.’

‘Course.’ Talk about uptight, she fumed inwardly. ‘See you soon then, David.’

She carried on climbing up the steps, but he didn’t move.

‘What did… Mrs Barrett say last night when I’d gone back home?’

‘Say?’ Holly shook her head, a puzzled expression on her face. ‘About what?’

‘About me,’ he said tersely.

‘She didn’t say anything about you.’ Holly shrugged. ‘David, are you sure you’re feeling OK?’

Just watch him. Nick’s voice echoed in her head.

‘Yes,’ he said, seeming to shake himself and focus on her face again. ‘Yes, I’m fine.’

Before she could reply, he stepped aside and carried on downstairs without looking back.





Chapter Thirty-One





Holly





Holly’s plan had been to carve out an ordered, calm life for herself. Not to become embroiled in a whole new set of dysfunctional people.

In her experience, everyone had a facade, and around here, she was still to some extent heavily reliant on people’s opinions about each other.

It was difficult to sift through the information and decide who and what to believe.

Patience was the key, she felt. Fresh starts could take some time to come good. That had certainly been the case in Manchester.



* * *



That first morning after surviving the drugs den, she and Markus had stood outside the coffee shop with their bags stacked beside them and waited for his boss, Brendan, to pick them up.

Holly had turned at a screech of brakes and watched as a big black jeep pulled up at the kerb. It parked on double yellow lines, narrowing the lane and causing passing drivers to beep and curse.

‘Wow, a G-Wagen. I love it.’ Markus had given a low whistle.

A tall, broad-shouldered man who Holly guessed was probably in his late thirties had jumped out of the driver’s side and given the middle finger to an openly cursing passing driver. He grinned and grasped Markus’s hand warmly in both of his.

‘Good to see you, man,’ he’d beamed, and then turned to Holly. ‘And this is your lovely friend you told me about, yeah?’

He’d said it without mockery and Holly felt full of confidence.

She’d smiled shyly and shaken his hand.

His face had been deeply tanned in that way you couldn’t get from just the odd week abroad. She’d thought he looked as though he probably went on holiday a lot and topped up his tan regularly. He had a wide smile and even white teeth. She’d felt a stir inside as she noticed his generous mouth… such soft, cushiony lips.

He’d been far too old for her, of course, but there was no harm in looking, was there? She’d felt so glad she’d taken Markus’s advice and freshened up a bit in the café. At least she didn’t look quite as rough any more.

‘OK, so let’s put your bags in the boot before I get into a fight out here.’ Brendan had winked at her and grinned.

He’d opened the back door and she’d ducked under his arm and slipped inside the vehicle, inhaling the scent of the obviously new cream leather. She’d sighed in contentment, at last managing to push the hideous images of last night’s accommodation out of her mind.

This was more like it, she’d thought to herself. This was what she’d come to Manchester for.

How she’d love to see the faces of all those bitchy girls at school right now, the ones who’d looked down on her and treated her like she was nothing, like she’d never achieve anything. What would they think seeing her sitting there in a vehicle that she suspected had probably cost more than a small house?

Markus and Brendan had still been in deep conversation outside. Every now and then, Markus would point to a feature on the car, and Brendan would nod and explain.

The beeps from other drivers hadn’t stopped as traffic was forced to slow and squeeze around the big jeep. Brendan was so good-looking, and Holly had found she liked his arrogant attitude, forcing the traffic to wait until he was ready to go.

They’d eventually set off, and about twenty minutes later, the jeep had turned into a car park just off a busy road, crawling slowly towards an impressive steel-and-glass building. A black-and-gold sign had displayed the words The Panther Bar in fancy scripted letters.

Brendan had steered the jeep around the club and parked up at the rear.

‘Is this your place?’ Holly had asked, staring up at the impressive terrace dotted with lounge furniture and leafy potted palms. Underneath the decked area there appeared to be an entire wall of smoked glass.

‘It certainly is.’ Brendan had nodded, opening the boot and setting their bags on the gravel. ‘One of them, anyhow. But I keep my office here.’

A heavy-set man dressed in a black suit had appeared and picked up their bags without speaking.