Daylight robbery I have never I have never been so in all my days it’s not how it’s not
Theo strapped the lock-box shut on the roof of Neila’s boat and let her talk, snapped the padlock in place
what does she even think charging that much we’re a community we treat each other as—she can’t set prices like that it’s absolutely
Neila’s rant paused only briefly as she popped open the waste tank, the flood of shit and chemicals slamming into her face, making her eyes water as she slid the pipe in.
And the way she spoke, the way she looked at me did you see the way she looked at me—well if she’d said something I would have just given her a piece of my mind
Theo flinched as the stench of liquid faeces hit him, carried by the faint southerly breeze.
Around the boat thin ice was beginning to form, millimetres clouding into centimetres, he prodded it with a stick and it buckled and cracked into thin wedges.
Never coming here ever again never even going to bother to
“You all right?”
The woman from the hut, she-who-sold-overpriced-diesel, stood behind the beam of her torch, looking down the towpath towards the Hector and its ranting captain.
Neila rose, the pipe in her hand vibrating as waste sloshed through it, mouth open mid-expletive. “I brought you ginger biscuits,” added the woman, shuffling towards the boat. “Keep you strong.”
She laid a foil packet on top of the boat next to Theo and patted it fondly, like a baked pet. “Well,” she added. “There it is.”
Walked away.
Neila and Theo stood in silence as the stars burst out across the sky.
In the morning the ice cracked easily when Theo poked it from the stern of the boat with the end of a broom handle. Neila hummed and hahhed and wasn’t sure if they should stay and wait for it to melt or whether they risked being trapped here if it thickened and in the end
they stayed
and ate ginger biscuits.
By two in the afternoon the ice had retreated a little, and Neila took three starts to get the engine going, and insisted on steering just in case, just because, and they headed towards Northampton.
Chapter 30
Time is
There was a Theo who lived in the past; there was this man alone whose life is worth no more than a single bed in north London and he is…
not the man who Theo is now.
Because the man called Theo is
walking to school with his baby girl, her hand in his
the first day at school she comes back and babbles, babbles about all that it was and he is a little sad when she’s not looking she’s so grown-up already it was so
and the man called Theo is
disappointed in her first choice of boyfriend, but that’s fine these things happen, it’s not fate or destiny she can make her choices and learn from her mistakes and he will be there for her if he is needed without forcing her to choose and
All these things, of course
are not real.
Lucy Rainbow Princess was sold to a fashion company specialising in parties for parents who knew their kids were destined to be on the stage and have million-dollar smiles and be the envy of all the other children at school
Lucy Rainbow Princess was arrested while drunk when she was twelve
spent her days forging five-star reviews for online retail companies
burned the gym to the ground
laughed at the flames
there’s a market for
Lying awake in the dark, Theo Miller tries not to do maths, and can’t stop himself.
If Lucy Cumali was born in March, at full term, she must have been conceived in July of the previous year. These things aren’t exact, so +/− two weeks either side of her actual conception date to account for premature or delayed birth, that’s a four-week window of opportunity. Assuming that Dani was having sex with Andy the national average—once a week, rising a little for the age range or the fact that Scotland seemed to do it more—call it 1.4 times a week, adjusting for menstruation
odds were that during the likely conception window Dani Cumali could have had sex at least 4.2 times
4.2 is a ludicrous number how do you have sex .2 of a time although there’d been some encounters back in the day but…
Call it 4 times within the probable window of conception.
And only one of those times had been with Theo and he was so certain…
Even though memory is not always…
Four times. That means there’s only really a 25 per cent chance that Lucy is his daughter.
In Tulse Hill, Theo Miller, the one who did maths and then pretended to do law, stares at the ceiling and does not sleep.
On the canal, Theo watches the reflection of fire on water and knows that if he does not find Lucy Cumali, he will waste away to a shadow, and there will be no colour in the sky, and he will never feel the touch of rain on his skin again.
Chapter 31
At the Ministry of Civic Responsibility the security man said:
“Ah here we go, Dani Cumali, cleaning staff, outside contractor, worked the night she—yes yes here it is logged in on and logged out on all here all written down proper proper as they say.”
And Theo said, “I’m auditing her murder, there’s financial irregularities in the assessment—we have to cover ourselves against liability for a misfiled claim against the prosecution if…”
They gave him access to the CCTV records because he seemed a nice man, utterly harmless, and why wouldn’t they?
Sitting in a booth behind the security office.
Fast-forwarding endless film of working day.
Stop talk cup of coffee machine is playing up again and
oh my God he said she said he said shall we go to the
WHY DOES THIS ELEVATOR ALWAYS TAKE SO LONG hey it’s here now bing!
holding hands
letting go
Lives lived at high speed a moment of tenderness is
gone
a flaming shouting match you stupid stupid how could you how could you be so
sorted now smile on the way to the
For a few weary moments Theo finds himself fixating on the potted plant in one corner of the screen. If he watches it long enough, will he see it grow?
Then he realises he’s drifting to sleep, and shakes himself, and stands up and gets bad coffee from the bad coffee machine, and returns to the desk, and forces himself to sit right on the edge of his chair and try again.
topping up the fruit bowl
sneaky playing with the phone under the desk no one will notice if
laying down the law on a matter of
lights go out
lights turn on somewhere else
go out
turn on.
Dani walks in.
Here she is.
Alive.
Dani is alive, only a few weeks in the past, right in front of his eyes.
He leans in so close his nose skims the screen, slows everything down to half speed, watches her turn on the spot, swimming through a digital fog.
She wears cleaning uniform, a new badge pinned to her chest.
The uniform is blue, but Theo only knows this because he’s seen it before. On the screen it could be anything, any different shade of grey.
For a moment she looks at the camera, she might be looking at him, and the shock of it is so great he falls back in his chair like a man punched in the chest
and realises he wants to look away
and forces himself to watch.