Read Conman Online

Authors: Richard Asplin

Conman (41 page)

BOOK: Conman
2.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads


Bastard
…” Jane sniffed softly, voice cracking like a child. “
You bloody … How could
…” but the word was swallowed. Swallowed by a gulping wave of tears.

“Jane. No Jane, wait,” I flustered, the world bending away,
buckling
, bucking me like a Rodeo. I reached for my family.

“Let …
go
of me!
Let go of me
!” Jane bellowed, face collapsing, fingers tight and white about Lana, barging past me, thundering up the stairs.

“Jane
wait
!”

“Sweetheart,” Edward hollered. “Sweetheart, don’t let him …” and he turned to me, face torn with fury. “Oh you’ll
pay
for this. It’s been a long time coming, but you’ll
pay for this
.” Spittle popped and glistened on his ruddy chin. He turned with a waddle and began to puff up the stairs after his daughter. “Sweetheart, Daddy’s here …”

“’
Afternoon
,” Laura smirked softly, leaning in. “
How are ya
?”

I just stared at her blankly.

“You want to say hello to the guys?” she whispered. “They’re all in the cab –”


Don’t –!
” I hissed, spinning, spitting, eyes flashing, nose to nose. “Whatever you’re doing. Whatever this is? I … I want you to stop. I want you to stop now. This is my
family
.”

“You ever worship someone? Adore them and not be adored back? It’s destroying.”


What
?”

“Your whole world. For three aching, lonely years?”

“I don’t … what are you – ?”

“C’mon, we did
tell
you, Neil. Portly chief executives, rolling chins in cashmere cardies,” Laura whispered. “Laying down wine and laying down nannies? You can’t be
surprised
?”

“Oh God …”

“That’s where the
real
juice is. Never had a problem they couldn’t solve with the flick of a Duofold and a wave of a
secretary
? Christopher did
tell
you.”

“This whole …” The room began to swim again. I tasted coppery adrenaline, woozy and wet. “But … but wait,” my heart hammered and hammered. I felt my throat tighten. But not with fear. With excitement. Hope.

With realisation.

“Ha,” I barked. “Yes,
ha
! He never
did
it!”

“Whom?”

“Edward! HA!
Nothing’s been lost!
No transfer took place! Nothing’s been taken!”

“Are you
sure
?”

“Jane caught him in time. You’ve taken
nothing
!”


Money
, you mean? Oh
Neil
…” Laura pouted, head cocked. She reached up and stroked my cheek tenderly, soothing, like a nurse. “Sweet thing, you really haven’t thought about this at
all
have you? Poor dear. Poor –”

A distant muted thud from upstairs.

Voices.


Oops
,” Laura whispered, pinching my bottom. “
Showtime
.”

“Get your fucking –”


Neil
,” Laura whined suddenly, loudly, grabbing my sleeve. “Did it work? Did he do it? The
money
?”

“Pity you never used any of this cunning at your real job, lad eh?” Edward boomed, appearing at the top of the stairs red-faced and wobbling, a scrap of paper in his hand, his daughter tucked safely behind. “Might have made something of yourself? Like
father
, like
son
though, eh?”

Like father, like son.

Of course the dame’s in on it. The dame’s always in on it

“Oh, I’ll
have
you for this. I’ll
have
you …”


Dad
,” Jane sobbed as Edward began to judder down the stairs.

“You’ll want this back will you? For your next trick? Your
notes
?” and he read aloud from the other side of Andrew’s tatty paper. “
They were at least agonisingly …
what’s this,
agonisingly aware of the easy money in the vicinity, and convinced it was theirs for a few words in the right key. EBAY 5pm Less sleep. Less sleep. O’Shea. Breath
mints. Matches. Zippo. Bic,
” Edward growled, balling up the note. “I knew it. I knew it all along …”


Edward
,” I protested. “Edward
please
, I …
Jane.
Jane I
love
you.
I love you,
please you have to believe me! I didn’t know
anything
about this.
Any
of this!”

“Neil, Neil leave it,” Laura whined, tugging my sleeve again. “Let’s just
go
.”


Hoy!
” Edward yelled, appearing at the bottom step, jabbing me hard with an aristocratic digit. “You stay
away
from my family, you hear?” Edward turned to face Laura. He looked her up and down, lip curled and loathing. “Told you he could make you rich, did he?”

Laura looked at me. Then up the stairs where Jane sat, clutching the banisters, sobbing.

“It was … it was all
his
plan,” Laura said with contempt. “He’s wanted out of the marriage for months but knew you’d cut him off without a penny. Said you’d bring the family lawyers in, take everything he had.”


Don’t,
” I begged. “Don’t listen, Jane –”

“So he said he’d come up with a scam. That I was to meet him here with his bags and the plane tickets.”

“God. Oh
God
,” I screamed, world falling away from me, knees buckling, refusing to lock. I grabbed the banisters. “Please.” A hard, dry ache writhed about my insides, gripping them hard, leaning on my heart, my guts.

“I’m sure you can tell the police
all
about it.”

“Neil?” Laura said, touching my shoulder.

“Get off me!” I bellowed. “Jane.
Jane
!”


Neil!
” Laura shouted. “What’s … what’s going on? The
plane
. Forget the money. We’ll survive. We have each
other …


Jane
–”

“Neil!”

“Jane please … I
love you
!” I said, throat fat and tight. “Jane. Jane please you
have
to believe me.”

Laura was at the door, talking. Shouting.

“Jane
please
. For Lana’s sake –”

“What?” Jane sniffed, looking up. But not at me. Over my shoulder. Past me. She was looking at Laura. “What did you say?”

“I said he can
keep
the watch. He can keep the watch but I’m going. I’m going now,” and Laura turned on her heel, wrenching open the door and marching down the steps into the November afternoon.

“What watch?” Jane said, rubbing her tears with her sleeve.

“I … I don’t know!” I said. “I don’t know what she’s talking about. I don’t know what
anybody
is –”

“Give it to me,” Jane said, swallowing hard and standing, moving down the stairs.

“Poppet, leave him,” Edward soothed. “Leave him, it’s all over now.
Shhh
.”

But Jane kept coming. Towards me.

Towards
me
.

I hauled myself up, holding out my arms.

“Jane. Jane please …”

She pushed past her father, reaching out to me.

“Oh God Jane,” I said, tears coming, tears brimming. But no. Jane grabbed my wrist, hard, twisting it, teeth bared.

“Aghh! Jesus!” I yelped, knees buckling as Jane wrestled with the clasps on my chunky wristwatch. “Aghh!”

She tore it from me, spinning away tearfully.

“It’s … it’s just a fake,” I said, slumped, wrist stinging. “Christopher … It was part of a
trick
…”

“A fake?” Jane sniffed. She turned and looked at me, holding the watch out. “Fake? This is …”

“Poppet, easy now –”

“This is about five grand’s worth of watch. She
give
this to you, did she?”

“No. No, I swear on Lana’s life,
no
.”

“On
La
–” and Jane’s jaw dropped, winded, stumbling
backwards
. “You … you …”

Jane stared at me. She looked back at the watch I’d had on my wrist for two weeks. Warm and sweaty, dotted with blood. She turned it over, twisting it in the hall light to look at it more clearly.

“What?” I said. “
What
?”

“On Lana’s
life
, you said,” and Jane let go of the watch. It fell, almost in slow motion, tumbling like a gold ribbon, hitting the block wooden floor with a crack.

Jane and her father turned from me, climbing the stairs.

A siren pined somewhere in the distance.

Swallowing hard, weak and shaking, I lifted the watch in
trembling
fingers, peering at the cracked, syrup-spattered face. Twelve diamonds glinted in the surface.

I turned it over. To where an inscription was.

Where one had always been.

To Neil,
it read.
To count down the hours until we are together. Lx.

I closed my eyes. Tight. Wanting more than I ever wanted anything, to awake somewhere else. At my desk, listening to Dionne Warwick. In my shop, John Williams rumpety-pumping on the stereo.

Next to Jane and Lana in the chill blue cold of our Putney bedroom.

I opened my eyes.

Alone in a Chelsea hall.

In the street I heard the bubbling rev of an engine.

Eyes wet, vision dimpled with tears, I staggered up, turning, toppling out into the cold afternoon.

The cab sat at the kerb, the back window crowded with shadows.

You want to say hello to the guys?

I fell down the front tiled steps and slapped across the
pavement
.

You ever worship someone? Adore them and not be adored back?

I stumbled towards the black doors.

Your whole world. For three aching, lonely years. It’s destroying.

I fell against the metal door. Angry. Angry, confused and tired. So very tired.

“What ho old fruit,” Christopher beamed, pumping down the window releasing a sweet plume of pipe smoke. “Hoped you’d come to see us off. No hard feelings.”

“What’s interesting about the whole procedure of course,” the smartly dressed gentleman at Christopher’s side piped up, gaily. “What your
Watchdog
and your
Daily Mails
don’t realise is that
innocent
parties are never involved. Oh they like to
suggest
those we catch out are poor
victims
. Poor
me
, they beat their breasts. Why
me
? But it’s drivel, of course. I mean imagine the logistics of picking marks at random. Poppycock.”

He was a very smartly dressed gentleman.

What my father would call,
well spoken.

A poofy fellah.

“It’ll come out of your shirt by the way,” Andrew added. “The syrup. I did always love your shirts. Loved everything about you in fact. Long time ago, of course.”

Andrew still had a little syrup on his lips. Some, for some reason, in his hair. I looked down. He had some on his hands too, but then that could have come from Christopher.

What with them holding hands as tight as they were.

“I
told
him,” Christopher cooed. “He’s a good-looking fellow. His wife? Jane? Buys him lotions and moisturisers. What with that and the gargantuan superhero groins and biceps on his walls. Well, it’s no
wonder
Andrew here spent three years hoping you’d …”

“Oh don’t
embarrass
him,” Andrew said.

“Wh …” I mouthed, lips dry, head thudding. “Wh …”

“Why?” Andrew said. “
Justice, dear boy.
Man’s to mete out and man’s alone. Who else will even the eternal score?
God
?” and he smiled.

I stepped away from the window, winded. Breathing tight and short.

“Posit
this
. I love you and you don’t love me back,” Andrew said. “My whole world. For three aching, lonely years. It’s destroying. Agreed? Observe the sentencing though.
I
am destroyed,
you
are not.
I
am dejected,
you
are not. Is that fair? Is that
justice
?”

“I … I didn’t –”


My
act was to see beauty in another. To forgive faults and foibles and worship unconditionally.
Yours
to reject this worship. To ignore, to pity and to condescend. But it is
I
who is sentenced to spend the rest of my days alone. Outcast, a hole where my stomach used to be …”


Hole where your
– ? Oh you do make a
scene
,” Christopher sighed, but Andrew pushed on.

“In a world
this
crazy,
someone
must even out the score, don’t you think Neil? What was it you said?
Revenge
?”

“Revenge?”

“On he who forced me to grow up? Who stole everything, who turned me into this
corporate machine.

“Me? You said you were … two people … Robbed. Two –”

“They
talked
like I knew them. And they took everything. Everything that mattered.”

“Shit. Shit no, Andrew please –”

“One Christmas. No remorse. No hesitation.”

As he spoke, Andrew reached into his jacket. One by one he removed his notebook, penknife, matches, Zippo, fountain pen and notebook, stacking them on the vinyl seat next to him.

“Turned, just like that. Stripped me. Inside and out. Childlike, thoughtless and selfish. I was just a wreck. Physically. Mentally.”

“Please Andrew, you never …”

“Changed everything. How could it not? Just so
angry
. Found myself collapsing. Just sitting down on the floor, wherever I was. Shaking. That people could be so …”

“Don’t,” I said. I blinked hot, frightened tears. “Please
don’t.
You have to come inside. Explain. Tell Jane …”

“Ah, here we go,” and he produced a small box. He held it in his hand, turning it slowly. “I’ve never forgotten,” Andrew said. “They’ve never let me forget. And I’ll never stop hating them either.”

A siren grew louder over the high Chelsea rooftops.

“That was … that was a
lifetime
ago. How can you – ?”

“Yes.
Time
. The greatest get-out clause in the
world
. Now it’s me who’s in the wrong. Me who’s the bad guy. All pity vanished. Suddenly I’m
childish
. Immature. Obsessive. Hung-up.
Move on, man. It was a long-time-ago. Lighten-up, get over it
. You’re off.
Scot-free
, screwing some other poor blighter. Leaving me to sit alone being pitied by my few remaining friends,” and he gave Christopher’s hand a tight squeeze.

BOOK: Conman
2.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

A Lie for a Lie by Emilie Richards
Rescue My Heart by Jill Shalvis
Boardwalk Bust by Franklin W. Dixon
The Inheritance by Joan Johnston
Eternally North by Cole, Tillie
Blue Lily, Lily Blue by Maggie Stiefvater
Easy Death by Daniel Boyd
Stay by Paige Prince
Darkest Knight by Cynthia Luhrs