Lila lay back, eyes still closed, sighed. Smiled. Turned to Anju, found she was smiling just as broadly, looking straight into her eyes. Neither spoke. Neither needed to.
Anju hugged Lila close to her. Curled her face into the side of her neck. Lila could feel her breath on her skin, knew from her lips that she was still smiling.
Lila sighed again. She hadn’t felt this happy, this relaxed, in ages. Years, perhaps. Tom was right, she thought. Things are going to be better from now on.
They had both known this was going to happen. Ending up in bed together. Both had wanted to, but neither had planned it. Like the rest of their relationship, it had happened organically, grown out of what had gone before.
Anju had driven round to Lila’s house, just to spend the evening together. Watch some TV, eat Lila’s attempt at pasta carbonara, chill. Be together. But as soon as she entered they both knew what was going to happen. Looking back at that moment, both had known even before that, when the invitation was made. But neither had expressed it. Neither had needed to.
And it had felt so right. Lila didn’t feel guilty. Nor did she feel like she was doing it as an act of distant revenge to spite her parents. It had been because she was falling in love with another person and wanted to express that, explore that.
She held Anju harder to her. Enjoyed the feeling of the other girl’s body against her own. Could happily lie like that for the rest of her life.
Then heard a car outside.
Anju moved, made to get up.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Lila. ‘It’ll just be Pearl coming back from the pub.’
Anju relaxed once more.
And stayed that way until there was hammering on the front door.
That wasn’t Pearl.
They both jumped up, looked at each other. Didn’t know who it was but knew it wasn’t going to be good news.
‘Could that be Tom?’ asked Anju.
For a split second, Lila allowed herself to hope. To think that things would be alright for him too. But that soon faded.
More hammering.
‘I don’t think so . . .’
They both quickly got dressed, pulled on whatever clothing they found to hand. Went downstairs. Anju not letting Lila go down alone.
They stood in front of the door. Heard more hammering.
‘Who is it?’ called Lila.
More hammering.
‘Let me in.’ Muffled, urgent.
They couldn’t make out the voice. Lila ran to the living room, opened the curtains, checked the car outside. She didn’t recognise it. Not Quint, she thought. He would have been on his motorbike. She went back to the front door. More frantic hammering.
Lila and Anju shared a look. They both knew they were going to open it.
Quint came roaring in, gun in hand.
Anju screamed. Quint turned, knocked her to the floor with the butt of his gun. Lila ran to her.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Her anger, concern for Anju overrode her fear of him.
He slammed the door behind him. Stared down at them.
‘Get her in there,’ he said, gesturing to the living room. ‘Now.’
Lila helped Anju to her feet. She was bleeding from where the gun had connected with her temple.
‘Move.’
Lila helped Anju to the sofa, sat down next to her. ‘You OK?’
Anju nodded. ‘Yeah. I think . . .’
Lila looked up at Quint who covered them both with the gun.
‘Sit there. Don’t move.’
Lila stared at him. ‘I knew you were wrong from the first moment. Knew it. Should have trusted my instincts.’
‘Yeah, well,’ said Quint, looking round the room, ‘bit late for that now.’
‘What d’you want?’
‘What I’ve wanted all along. The money.’
Lila frowned. ‘What you talking about? What money?’
‘The money Killgannon stole from Dean Foley. Don’t play stupid.’
‘Haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. Tom didn’t steal any money.’
‘Yeah? You think? How well do you know him?’
Lila made to stand up. Quint waved the gun at her. She sat down again. Even more angry. ‘He wouldn’t do that. I know him. And he wouldn’t do that.’
Quint smiled. ‘We’ll see, won’t we?’
‘What are you going to do with us?’ Anju’s voice was weak, wavering. She held her hand to her head, trying unsuccessfully to stem the flow of blood.
‘Depends how useful you’re going to be.’
‘Useful for what?’ asked Lila, defiance still in her voice.
Quint smiled. There was no trace of the charming man who had visited them previously. Lila was angry with herself for not challenging him sooner. Letting it come to this. ‘Useful to me. Can’t search this whole house on my own, now, can I?’
‘What makes you think we’ll help you?’ asked Anju, voice quiet, but as defiant as Lila’s.
‘Because I’m holding the gun. And you don’t want to be on the wrong end of it if you piss me off, do you?’
They both stared at him.
‘There’s a stupid bitch policewoman out on the moors right now trying to track down your beloved Tom Killgannon. And she thinks I’m just going to roll over and give her whatever money I find.’
‘There’s no money here,’ said Lila. ‘I’ve told you. I would know.’
‘We’ll see, shall we?’
The gun seemed to loom even larger in front of her face.
Lila said nothing, just held on to Anju.
Her only slim hope was that Pearl would come home and see what was happening.
That slim hope.
Lila had learned, from bitter experience, not to believe in hope.