So what on earth was she after?
If only I could know for certain if it’s Alicia doing these things.
I take out my phone.
“Hi, Rhett. It’s Isabel.”
“Oh, hi Isabel.”
“Is Alicia there?”
“She’s in her room.”
“Could you get her for me?”
“I think she’s sleeping. She said she was going to have an early night.”
“Please? I really need to speak to her.”
“Well… OK.”
“What can I get you?” asks the man behind the bar.
“One beer and one red wine please,” I say, holding the phone to my ear.
“We don’t do wine, just beer and cider,” he says, pointing to the sign.
“Just the beer then.”
“Isabel?” says a voice on the other end of the phone.
“Alicia?”
“What’s wrong?” she asks. “Rhett said it was important.”
“Oh, er…” For a moment I’m completely flummoxed.
“Hello?”
“Um, I couldn’t find Deacon, but it’s OK, I’ve found him now. Sorry to get you up for nothing.”
“That’s OK, Isabel. What are friends for?”
I stuff my phone back in my bag and pay for Deacon’s drink. This doesn’t make any sense. How can I have seen Alicia if she isn’t even here? And who just tried to take my bag? And more to the point, why did they give it back?
I make it through the rest of the concert without any further incidents, though I can’t really enjoy it. While Deacon watches the band, I watch the crowd, unable to relax until the very last note has sounded.
“Right, let’s go and get some fish and chips,” Deacon says as we squeeze out of the Arena.
“OK but no mushy peas,” I say, pulling a face. I’ve always had a slight horror of the lurid green things.
Deacon laughs. “Don’t worry, they’re not compulsory.”
We cross the road to the chip shop opposite.
“Oh no, it’s closed!”
“Damn, I’m starving.”
I glance at my watch. “Nothing else will be open at this time of night.”
“Never mind, we’ll go back to my house,” Deacon invites me. “I’ll make some toasties. No mushy peas, I promise.”
For a moment, I hesitate. But it’s been ages since I had Deacon all to myself, and Alicia is in bed already.
Isn’t it worth the risk?
We find the Beach House in darkness.
Deacon switches on the light in the spotlessly clean kitchen and goes to the fridge.
“What do you want? Cheese and ham?”
“Sounds great.”
I fill the kettle, then rummage around for a couple of mugs while Deacon assembles the sandwiches. Soon, the room is filled with the sound and smell of sizzling cheese.
“So what’s going on with you lately?” he asks me as we sit down at the table to eat.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, first this business with the police, and then setting yourself on fire the other night. You always seem to be in the wars lately.”
“I have been having a bit of a funny time,” I admit. I really want to tell him what’s been happening, but I’m afraid he’ll think I’m losing my mind.
“I had a good time tonight,” he says, when I don’t elaborate.
“Me too,” I grin, and for a moment, I’m able to forget all the weird, freaky stuff.
He takes my wrist and turns it towards him to look at my watch.
“You won’t get a taxi at this hour. You’d better stay the night.”
“OK.”
He looks at me for a little longer than is strictly necessary. I swallow.
“So, you and Alicia,” I say nervously. “Is it… serious between you?”
“Does it matter to you if it is?”
I meet his gaze.
“Hmm, that smells delicious,” says a voice from the doorway.
Alicia.
I almost drop my cup.
“I’m sorry, did we wake you?” Deacon asks, calmly.
“I couldn’t sleep anyway,” she says, slinking up to him and giving him a kiss.
I can’t help noticing her expensive Chinese silk pyjamas. I wonder if he bought those for her? Her small, pert breasts are clearly visible through the fabric.
“Can I have a bite of your sandwich?” she asks me.
“Here, finish it,” I say, instantly losing my appetite. “I think I’m about ready for bed.”
“Would you like to borrow some pyjamas?”
“No, that’s OK.”
We both know full well that they wouldn’t fit me anyway.
It’s cold in the guest room at the end of the hall. I should have picked one at the other end of the house, but I wanted to be as far away from Alicia as possible. I close the window and sink down under the covers but still, I find it very hard to sleep. How can I, knowing Alicia could be lurking just outside the door? That the room could fill with soot and smoke at any moment?
I snooze fitfully, waking at every sound. I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved to see daylight streaming in. I grab my things and sneak downstairs, intending to slip out before everyone wakes.
I am not expecting to find Rhett in the kitchen, mixing batter for pancakes.
“Morning,” he says pleasantly.
“You’re up early.”
“Yeah, I’ve still got some shopping to do. Wanna come?”
“Not today.”
He shakes his head. “I’m starting to worry about you. Don’t tell me you’re on a budget?”
“Nothing like that,” I laugh. “I just have stuff to do.”
“Well, at least stay for breakfast. We’ve got fresh blueberries.”
I pause. On the one hand, it would probably be safer to leave. But on the other, Rhett’s pancakes are amazing and I’ve woken up with one hell of an appetite.
“Oh, OK,” I agree. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, I’ve got it all under control. But you could go and wake Alicia. She needs to be up for work.”
“How about I fry the pancakes while you wake Alicia?”
Rhett pulls a face. “No offence, but you might burn them.”
I rack my brains for a good excuse, but it doesn’t come to me.
Instead, I find myself marching up the wooden stairway to the enemy’s lair.
The door is slightly ajar.
Impulsively, I push it open, without knocking. I don’t know exactly what I expect to see – maybe I’ll catch Alicia doing voodoo, or concealing a small nuclear arsenal under her bed. Instead, I find her dressing for work, pulling a hideous lime-green Robertson’s shirt over her head. She’s fast, but I still see it; the word ‘FRY’ branded into the small of her back.
I stumble backwards and knock my elbow against the wall.
“Ow!”
Alicia whirls round. Her eyes flash dangerously.
I don’t know what this means, but I think I’ve just found her weak spot, her Achilles heel. And boy, does she know it.
Chapter Twelve
Rhett looks up as I rush back into the kitchen.
“Something came up. I’ve got to go.”
“What about breakfast?”
“Sorry, another time.”
“Well, what about Alicia? Did you wake her?”
“She’s awake.”
I glance nervously behind me. I hear footsteps on the stairs.
“Gotta go – tell Deacon thanks for last night.”
“Isabel?”
“I really have to go.”
I do not stop to explain any further, just grab my bag and shoot out the door.
I stride quickly, cutting across the car park and take the road that leads into town. There is no one behind me, and yet I still feel like I’m being followed. I quicken my pace, walk for some minutes, but still can’t quite seem to shake that feeling.