The Angel. Katerina Diamond
in a week, Gabriel smiled.
Adrian walked along his road, past Uncle Mac’s corner shop. The orange and grey tones of dusk were settling into daylight. He hadn’t been in the shop for a long time, not since they had connected it to a human-trafficking operation four months ago, an operation that was still under investigation. The place had been stripped and new management had taken over, but he still couldn’t bring himself to go inside. He thought about his old friend Eva, the girl who had worked in the shop, and wondered if he would ever see her again. The thought of it filled him with anxiety; seeing her again would force him to confront the guilt he felt. When he thought of all the time they spent talking, she could have told him what had happened to her, that she had been trafficked, that she was there against her will. He wanted to blame her for not saying anything but the truth was he should have known something was very wrong. These days, he walked to the nearest supermarket on the main road for his necessaries. He counted the extra fifteen-minute walk as part of his punishment, it did nothing to alleviate his conscience though.
Adrian’s phone beeped in his pocket, it was a text from Tom. Adrian had made Tom promise to check in every morning since the menacing visit a couple of months ago from Tom’s stepfather, Dominic. He asked Tom to come and live with him on a weekly basis but Tom insisted he needed to stay home and look after his mother, Adrian’s ex Andrea. The text was a timely reminder for Adrian to check in with Gary for progress on their own little investigation into Dominic. He replied to Tom and then sent Gary a message before putting his phone away.
As he reached his front door, Adrian felt in his pocket and realised he didn’t have his house keys. Again. Brilliant. He walked around to the side of the house and down the alley that the terraces backed onto. He hoped to God he had left his back door open; the lock was dodgy and sometimes he left it open because he was prone to forgetting his keys. He slung the carrier bag with the bread and milk over the wall, hoping the milk had made it intact; it usually did. He scaled the brick wall that backed onto his property, noticing that it was much harder to do than the last time he’d tried it. Clearly, he was out of shape.
‘Breaking and entering?’
He turned his head to look behind him back into the alley and saw Lucy Hannigan with her phone pointed at him, taking a photograph as he straddled the wall.
‘I forgot my key.’ He swung his leg over the side and she disappeared from view.
The back door to his house was open; he walked in and through to the front door. He could see the outline of Lucy in the glass just as the doorbell rang.
‘Fancy seeing you here.’ He smiled and opened the door.
‘I’m not staying.’ She stood steadfast in the doorway, hands in her jacket pockets.
He shrugged. ‘Fair enough. How did you get my address?’ Had he brought her back here last time? His brain hurt every time he tried to remember their previous encounter.
She pointed at her chest. ‘Investigative journalist – remember?’
‘Right.’
‘I googled you. After all that business with the newsagents near your house, it wasn’t hard to find. I just hung around a while until you turned up. To be honest I didn’t expect you to be up this early.’
‘I see. And what can I do for you?’
‘I found out the name of your missing man.’
‘You did?’
‘The homeless man that usually sleeps in the signal box, the one they call Bricks.’
‘How did you find out – no wait, don’t tell me … did you google him?’ Adrian smiled at her sarcastically.
‘No, although sometimes that does work. I have a few connections on the street, they know homelessness is an issue close to my heart, which means people that wouldn’t speak to you might speak to me. I’ve spent a few months working with these people in order to write this exposé, and they’re grateful that someone gives a shit, I guess. I spoke to Claire Johnson, the lady whose number I gave you, and she told me who you were looking for. I asked around and there were a few people who knew your guy, so I got his real name. Thought it might help you out.’
‘So, what’s his name then?’
‘His name is Theodore Ramsey – or Teddy Ramsey – or, you know – Bricks.’
Adrian nodded, making a mental note of the name. ‘Well, thank you for letting me know. Are you sure you don’t want a drink or anything?’ He was hoping she would say yes, there was something about her. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t remember her properly; she had rich brown hair that tumbled from her head, haphazard but perfect at the same time. Her eyes were so bright, especially with the thick black liner she wore deliberately smudged around the rims. She seemed impossible to forget. Yet somehow he had.
‘No thanks, I have a blog post to write.’ She winked as she backed away.
‘Sounds important. Am I in it?’
‘Not until you do something interesting …’ she called behind her.
He watched her until she disappeared around the corner. She seemed to be quite dismissive of him on purpose, which meant she had the measure of him. There wasn’t much that turned Adrian on more than an attractive woman with no interest in him whatsoever. What had he done to piss her off so much the first time they met?
Adrian closed the door with a big smile on his face. He walked back into the house and as he passed the threshold of the lounge door his skin prickled. Without looking in, he knew someone else was there.
‘Don’t worry, I’ve just come for a chat.’
Adrian pushed open the lounge door to see Dominic sitting on his sofa, smack in the middle, arms either side of him as though he had sat there a million times and this was perfectly normal.
Anger surged through him. ‘You can’t just let yourself in here whenever you want.’
‘Obviously I can.’ He shrugged. The fact that Adrian was a police officer obviously didn’t scare Dominic, and that scared Adrian.
‘What do you want, Dominic?’
‘Just checking in, seeing what you were up to.’
Adrian glanced over to the dining table; the bag of paperwork he and Gary had been working from was tucked safely to the side of it, undisturbed. It was in a reusable carrier bag so he guessed it probably didn’t look all that important.
‘Why?’
‘I just wanted to make sure you were behaving yourself.’
‘Get out before I call for back-up.’
‘Come off it Adrian, you don’t frighten me and you know it.’ He smiled. ‘Actually, this visit is about Tom.’
‘What about Tom?’ Adrian felt sick whenever Dominic said his son’s name.
‘He’s not been very cooperative at home lately, I think maybe he needs a little stability at the moment, so you won’t be seeing him for a while.’
‘You can’t do that.’
‘According to the court, we need your signature to take Tom out of the country. He’s had a tough year, I think you’ll agree, and he needs a treat.’
‘What are you talking about? Take him where?’
‘Undecided at present, but he’s going to be missing some weekends with you, I’m afraid. I have discussed it with Andrea and we both agree that these visits with you are unsettling for him.’
‘I have a custody agreement.’
‘Of