Double Cross (20 page)

'Callum, I need your help. Yours too, Mum. If either of
you are out there, somewhere, please watch over Callie.
Please don't let my daughter slip away. I know it isn't
written anywhere that life is supposed to be fair, but please
keep Callie safe. And here. Meggie has been through so
much. So have I. Taking Callie away from me wouldn't
be fair. I know I'm being selfish, but I don't care.

'Callum, bring our daughter back. Her body is still here,
but not the rest of her. The doctors are baffled as to why
she hasn't woken up yet. One doctor asked me if Callie is
a fighter. I put her right on that one. Of course our
daughter is a fighter. Callum, you mustn't let her forget
that. Remind her of all the things she has waiting for her
in this life. Remind her just how much I love her.

'Mum, I miss your humour and your practical advice. I
miss you. I talk to Callie every day. I tell her all the news
and talk about things gone and things to come. I don't
even know if she can hear the things I say, but I say them
anyway. But if she can't hear me, I know she'll hear you.
Send her back to me, Mum.

'Please.

'
Please
. . .'

I leaned against the wall, my head bent as Sephy's words
trailed away into tears. I'd thought that at this time on a
Sunday afternoon, I'd get to see Callie with no interruptions.
But her mum had beaten me to it. When I arrived,
the nurse at the nurses' station buzzed me onto the ward,
then promptly disappeared before the door had shut
behind me. Heading towards Callie's room, I'd heard
Sephy before I saw her – and before she saw me. Her
words were quietly spoken, but the ICU was quieter, just
the hum of machines and the regular beep of the monitor
coming at me from the middle distance like so much
background noise. Maybe I shouldn't have stood outside
Callie's room and listened to her mum, but I did. Part of
me wanted to head into the room and share how we were
both feeling, but that was impossible. Two of the nurses
were heading back to their station. Decision time. I closed
my eyes briefly.

Until tomorrow, Callie.

Time to leave.

On Sunday evening, all us waiters (no waitresses, just
Michelle supervising) were taken into the Club fifteen
minutes before the first guests arrived. We were told the
schedule for the night and assigned to different parts of the
Club.

'Tobey, you'll be circulating around the leisure area
with various drinks,' Michelle informed me. 'Anyone who
wants a specific order will have to go to the bar. Make sure
your tray is never empty. You can take one ten-minute
break at midnight and that's it.'

I nodded, only vaguely aware of what she was saying. I
was still trying to take in everything. This was my first
chance to see the Club – and it was something else. I'd
never seen anything like it. Statues in various states of
undress adorned the alcoves around the main room and
the ceiling was draped with red, orange and yellow silk.
There was a huge dance floor lit up with multi-coloured
underfloor lighting to the left. Opposite, on the other side
of the room, was the bar and beyond that the small kitchen
which served snacks – or, as they called them up here,
canapés. Dotted around the dance floor were tables and
chairs, with sofas hugging the walls around the rest of the
room. It smelled of flowers though I couldn't see a flower
in sight. I went to the bar to get my first tray of drinks.

'Man, I hope you're wearing your titanium underwear,'
Angelo whispered to me.

'What d'you mean?' I frowned.

'You'll find out,' said Angelo grimly.

The first guests began to arrive and the party officially
started. I got Angelo to point out Rebecca for me. She
was shorter than I expected, about five feet three or four
and not exactly skinny but sure heading that way. She
wore her hair in thin locks down to her shoulders and her
make-up looked a bit overdone, but what did I know? She
was wearing a sleeveless red dress with matching red highheeled
sandals and she looked stunning. The dress had a V
at the front and the back and the skirt flowed around her
thighs every time she moved. Even from across the room,
her diamond earrings twinkled, as did the rocks around
her neck. Happy eighteenth birthday! I took in every
aspect of her appearance, drinking in her face – her catlike
dark eyes set slightly too wide apart, her burgundy
lips, her high forehead. A tall but stocky Cross guy walked
over to Rebecca and put his arm around her shoulders.
She smiled up at him in amusement. He smiled down at
her with genuine affection, the creases around his eyes
deepening. He had to be thirty? Maybe thirty-two.

'Who's the guy with his arm around her shoulder?' I
asked Angelo.

'That's her brother, Gideon, and don't let him catch
you staring at his sister,' Angelo warned me. 'And I'll tell
you something else. Gideon is a mean one, but he's a
teddy bear compared to his younger brother, Owen.'

'Why? What's Owen like?'

'Ambitious. Focused. Ruthless.'

'Where is he? Is he here tonight?'

'He's the one in the blue suit who just walked in.'
Angelo pointed discreetly.

I tried to get a good look at Owen, but only caught a
glimpse before Rebecca hugged him. The place was
beginning to fill up so it was tricky to get more than a
partial view. I walked a couple of steps forward to get a
better look, memorizing his face before I headed back to
the bar.

'Why the interest in Gideon and Owen?' Angelo asked.

'I don't want to get into trouble by stepping on the
wrong toes,' I replied.

Apparently Vanessa Dowd wasn't going to be present.
Angelo told me that she very rarely ventured out of her
house. From what he said, Vanessa Dowd sounded like a
puppet-master, working from on high and pulling
everyone's strings, including those of her own family.
Especially those of her own family. It was time to get to
work. I turned back to the bar to retrieve my tray and
headed for the crowd that was growing by the second.

By midnight, Rebecca Dowd's eighteenth birthday
party was in full swing. The music was blaring, the Club
was heaving and most of the guests were already off their
heads. Canapés and finger foods were doing the rounds,
but the food wasn't as popular as the drink. My job was to
weave in and out of the crowd with a tray full of assorted
drinks, allowing empty glasses to be swapped for full ones.
Every time my tray contained more empty glasses than full
ones, I had to head back to the bar for more drinks. No
one had to pay for a thing. Food and drink were on the
house – or rather, on the Dowds. Looking around, I
figured there had to be close to one hundred people in the
Club – mostly Crosses, but at least a fifth of those present
were Noughts. I wondered how many of them were
Rebecca Dowd's real friends. My guess was ten or less.

Within the space of an hour my bum had been pinched
purple and there wasn't a centimetre of my body that
hadn't been thoroughly groped. Now I understood
Angelo's titanium underwear warning. But my pockets
were also being stuffed with money – amongst other
things, like a few phone numbers. I didn't feel the least bit
guilty about the money. Way I saw it, I was earning it and
then some. When at last midnight rolled around, my head
was pounding and I was about ready to drop. It was my
break time so it was now or never. I weaved through the
crowds, seeking my quarry. At last I found him, leaning
against a closed door. Taking a deep breath, I walked
straight up to him.

'Mr Dowd, may I speak to you?' I had to really raise my
voice to be heard.

'About what?' Owen Dowd frowned.

'Alex McAuley.'

That got his attention. 'What about him?'

'May I speak to you in private?'

Owen Dowd looked at me, really looked at me.

'It'll be worth five minutes of your time,' I said. 'I
promise.'

Owen took a key out of his jacket pocket and unlocked
the door behind him. Once the door was open, he waved
me in ahead of him. He wasn't taking any chances. I
walked in and spun round immediately. I wasn't taking
any chances either. Owen switched on the light and shut
the door behind him with an ominous click. The sounds
of the Club stopped immediately, like a radio being
switched off. The room had to be soundproofed. I glanced
around. It was a tiny office, with a poster-sized window
behind an undersized desk. The window was covered
with a dark-grey vertical blind which was shut. On the
desk were scattered a few sand-coloured folders and a
desktop computer sat self-consciously on one side. The
floor was carpeted, a navy-blue carpet which made the
room look even smaller.

'Now then, what's your name?' asked Owen.

'Tobey Durbridge,' I replied.

'So what's all this about?' said Owen. 'And it'd better be
good or you're going to find yourself out of a job.'

So without wasting any more time, I told him.

I only had five minutes left of my break. The restaurant
was closed and I didn't fancy chatting to anyone in the
changing rooms, so I headed up the stairs to the flat roof,
hoping fervently that the door would be open. It was.

The moment I stepped outside, I breathed a huge sigh
of relief. After the heated chaos of the Club and the
atmosphere in the air there, up here was cool and fresh.
The air-conditioning unit sat hulking in the middle of the
roof, growling away like some great wounded animal. I
walked to the nearest edge to peer over the side. Beneath
my feet, I could feel the music thumping, vibrating
through my body. I looked up. The stars were the furthest
away they'd ever been. I looked down. Two storeys
down to the ground. The longer I stared, the closer the
pavement seemed to get. But I didn't want to look away.
This was better than looking up and only seeing Callie
looking down at me, blood spilling over her chest. Better
this than closing my eyes and seeing Callie in the hospital
as the nurses and doctors fought to bring her back to life.

'Are you going to jump?'

The woman's voice had me spinning round. It was
Rebecca Dowd, standing beside the air-conditioning unit.
How long had she been up here? I stared at her like I'd
lost my mind. Rebecca smiled, amused at my goldfish
impersonation. I snapped my lips together and tried to
look like my IQ was greater than my shoe size.

'Sorry,' I said ruefully. 'You took me by surprise.'

'You're not going to jump, are you?' Rebecca sounded
worried.

'The thought hadn't crossed my mind, no.'

'Good.' Rebecca breathed a huge sigh of relief.
'Because I'd have to try and talk you out of it and I'm
useless at that kind of thing.'

'Fair enough.' I smiled, and looked up at the night sky
again, drinking in the peace above before I had to head
back down to the throng below.

'Are you OK?' asked Rebecca. 'You look . . . out of it.'

'I'm fine. Just a million kilometres away.'

'Nowhere pleasant by the look on your face.'

'I'm just missing my girlfriend,' I admitted.

'Oh? Where is she?'

How to answer that one? 'We're not together any more.'

'Oh. I'm sorry.'

I shrugged. Time to change the subject. 'So what brings
you up here?'

Rebecca sighed, walking over to me. 'I came up a while
ago for some peace and quiet.'

'Me too,' I said. 'But if I'm disturbing you I can leave.'

'No, that's OK. You can stay.'

I smiled. 'I'm Tobey.'

'Becks,' said Rebecca, holding out her hand.

I stepped forward to shake it.

'Hi, Becks. So what d'you think of the party then?'

'It's OK.' Rebecca's response was distinctly lukewarm.
'I'm not really a party person. What about you? What
d'you think of it?'

'Well, I'm not exactly a guest,' I pointed out, indicating
my waiter's uniform.

'All the better to get an objective opinion,' Rebecca
replied.

I considered. 'I'm not really a party person either.
I'd much rather see a good film and go for a meal
afterwards.'

'Me too.'

Rebecca and I shared a smile.

'But as parties go, most of the people downstairs seem
to be enjoying themselves. Mind you, in the morning they
won't remember whether the party was good, bad or
indifferent.'

'Yeah, so what's the point?' said Rebecca, antipathy in
her voice.

'Excuse my asking, but aren't you Rebecca Dowd? Isn't
it your birthday party?'

'It's supposed to be, but it's more for my mum's benefit
than mine. My party will appear in all the right celebrity
magazines and a tabloid or two, with photos of all the
usual suspects, and Mum will deem my party a success.'

'The usual suspects?' I queried.

'All those people who would go to the opening of a
fridge door as long as it got their faces in the papers and
the gossip mags.'

I contemplated Rebecca. I'd thought she'd be some
spoiled little princess who thought the sun revolved around
her and who'd have nothing worse to bleat about than the
merest wrinkle in her dress or a scuff mark on her shoes.

'What?' Rebecca ran her hand over her hair.

'Nothing. I just . . . you're not what I expected,' I said.

'Is that good or bad?'

'Definitely good.' I smiled.

We stood for a few moments looking out across the
centre of town. The traffic, the lights from the buildings,
the occasional siren, they were all just background, but
vibrant background. I wanted to reach out my hand,
snatch it all up and put it in my trouser pocket. But I
deliberately turned my back on it to face Rebecca.

'So what did you get for your birthday?' I asked.

Rebecca's hand moved self-consciously to her neck.
'This necklace – amongst other things.'

'It's beautiful.'

'D'you really like it?' she asked doubtfully.

'Well, I wouldn't wear it,' I replied. 'But it looks good
on you.'

'I thought it was a bit . . . ostentatious, but Mum
insisted that I should wear it.'

'There are worse things to wear,' I said.

I deliberately took a step closer. Rebecca didn't back
away. I lifted the necklace away from her neck for a better
look. The metal beneath my fingers still held the warmth
of her skin. The necklace was either white gold or
platinum. I'd've put my money on the latter. It certainly
wasn't mere silver. Adorning the chain was a cross set with
at least nine diamonds and I reckoned each diamond had
to be at least half a carat. Not that I'm into diamonds or
anything like that, but I did occasionally glance in the odd
jeweller's shop window with dreams about the watches
I could buy myself and the everything else I would
buy Callie if I ever had any money. Rebecca's necklace
would've been dazzling around Callie's neck, complementing
her beige skin.

'Tobey . . . ?'

I snapped out of my reverie and immediately released
Rebecca's necklace. 'Sorry. I went offline.'

'Were you with your girlfriend again?'

I shrugged, not denying it.