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Alex surfaced with his mouth parched and his head thumping. He blinked in the daylight. What time was it? Early morning, maybe.
He assessed the state of his stomach. Not great, but he’d been worse.
He’d talked to someone. Who was it? Rico. The dream could have been real. He’d touched Alex’s arm and Alex had felt it, as though Rico was there with him.
He stared out the window, at the canal in the distance. The ducks were back, this time being fed by some young children, their mothers at their sides.
Callum would be coming soon. Alex had to make sure he was home to meet the nanny. When was she supposed to arrive? Sylvie had been taking care of that. Alex took a shaky breath. He’d have to look after all the details now.
He’d have some coffee. It might shift the dryness from his mouth. As he lurched towards the kettle, his back stiff from sleeping in a chair. He picked up his phone and switched it back on. There was a little charge in the battery. Enough to check in with the nanny. What was her name again? Lizzie? Dizzy?
There were six missed calls from Sylvie, more text messages, and multiple voicemail notifications. Fuck. He couldn’t listen to those. The sound of her voice would break him. His heart was heavy, as he deleted all her messages unread.
He had a ridiculous number of texts waiting to be read—Jordan, Kate, Charlie, Sylvie, Mick, Frankie. He skipped over them all. Then he came to a message from Daisy. Yes. This was the nanny.
Hi, Mr H. Really looking forward to working for you. I’ll be at your house on Wed afternoon as planned, see you then. Yours, Daisy
He breathed a sigh of relief. Wednesday was ages away, wasn’t it? He flicked back to the main screen of the phone, to check the time and date.
Holy fuck. It was now seven thirty-two on Friday.
He’d lost three days.
****
Adele never worked in the old building, so she had no memories of it as it had been. It felt strange, though, to have so many people wandering around, commenting on the changes. She was busy, preparing for a special Exec meeting Jordan had scheduled, when Nick sent her an instant message.
N.ANDERSON: You got time for a quick coffee?
A.BISSET: Sure. Usual place, 10 mins?
N.ANDERSON: See you there
N. ANDERSON HAS SIGNED OFF
Nick sat waiting for her, looking very smart in a dark suit, pale grey shirt and dark tie. Everyone was dressed sombrely for the memorial service this afternoon.
“Melda.” He kissed her cheek and nudged a latte towards her.
“Thank you. What’s up?”
He smiled. “Not seen you all week. Is it true you’re dating Karl?”
“News travels fast.” She liked the idea of dating Karl, but they weren’t quite there yet. “We’ve been to the gym, and out a couple of times, but that’s all. He’s busy all this week, with the office moves.” She curled her fingers around her cup. “Nosey, aren’t you?” She was teasing, but Nick didn’t laugh.
Instead, he leaned forwards and squeezed her hand. “Lara told me a strange thing last night. She’s seen a guy hanging around our street at night, who she reckons looks like Jason.” He seemed at a loss for words. “How can that be?”
Adele’s good mood shattered in an instant. Fear galloped around her heart. “It’s not just Lara. I’ve seen him as well.”
****
Lara juggled her schedule so she had time for a quick catch-up with Sylvie on Friday morning, before going into the office. She met up with her at Jordan’s apartment.
Always slim, Sylvie had lost weight, and her clothes hung off her. Her normally glossy hair was lank, and her face puffy from tears. The difference from a week ago was staggering, and Lara folded her friend into a tight hug.
“Still no sign of Alex?” Lara asked.
Sylvie trembled in her arms. “Nothing. Oh, Lara. I can’t bear it. I can’t do this.”
She wriggled free a moment later, dug into her tiny handbag, and pulled out a pill bottle. Shaking two yellow capsules into her hand, she pulled a face at Lara. “Herbal supplement. I’m turning into a junkie. What with these and the sleeping pills, I’m not in a great place at the moment.” She dry-swallowed the tablets, and then went to the sink to pour a glass of water. “Can I get you a coffee?”
“Tea, please. Coffee makes me want to hurl these days.”
She watched as her friend knocked the tea canister with her elbow, spilling tea bags across the counter, and didn’t notice. Sylvie then poured boiling water into an empty cup. She stared at it as though she didn’t understand what was wrong.
“Sit down.” Lara guided Sylvie towards a seat at the table, and then rescued the teabags and made the drinks. “Sylvie, are you okay? I mean, I know you’re not, but is there anything I can do?”
“Find Alex for me. I’ve run out of ideas.” She drummed on the table with her fingertips. “For God’s sake, where can he be?”
“You’ve tried—”
“Short of announcing it to the press or calling the police, I’ve tried everything.” She rubbed her eyes. “He left his passport behind, so I know he’s still in the UK. I haven’t told Daisy. She thinks he’s busy in meetings or something. I was vague as fuck, and I’m sure she knows I’m lying.”
“If he doesn’t turn up tomorrow, are you still going for Callum?”
“I have to. If they think Alex is a flake, they’ll probably revoke the foster approval. I can’t take that chance.”
“And if the worst happens? Are you going to bring up Callum on your own?”
She sank her head into her hands. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”
****
Alex checked out of the hotel and settled his bill in cash. He’d used his normal practice of registering under an assumed name—Alexander Smith this time—and from there, he headed straight to Dublin Airport. He was lucky; there was a flight leaving in the next half hour. He stunk like a polecat, but there was enough time to buy a clean shirt, deodorant, toothbrush, and toothpaste.
He freshened up in the bathroom. A stranger looked back at him from the mirror over the basin. His eyes were dull and empty, his hair tangled and beard scruffy, his skin grey. He looked like someone who’d slept in the gutter for the past week. The only saving grace was that nobody was likely to recognise him like this.
It was a short hop to Heathrow. He forced himself to eat some bread and butter—the first food in days—drank as much water as he could stomach, and thought about Sylvie. Callum, the band, the tour, his home—everything came back to Sylvie. Their lives were so closely twined, it was impossible to eradicate her without trace.
Today was the memorial service. His heart ached for her. She was dreading it and had been relying on his support to get through it. What kind of shit would he be, if he left her to deal with it alone?
****
Sylvie was nervous about seeing Callum, especially without Alex, but she figured it’d be a good idea for the boy to meet Daisy.
As before, he hugged his foster mother and refused to make eye contact with Sylvie. She’d be taking him with her tomorrow. How would he feel, being dragged away from the world he knew, to go live with strangers?
Daisy managed to entice him to the floor, to play with him there, and Sylvie watched in awe. Daisy managed more in half an hour than she had in two sessions.
Back at Jordan’s apartment, Sylvie had another shower to warm up. She felt permanently frozen these days. Her hair was a mess, but she couldn’t be bothered fiddling with it. It’d dry into messy waves and curls, and that was fine. Nothing mattered any more.
When did she last take one of the yellow capsules? Not for a while, and there were plenty left. She needed all the energy she could get, so she popped another two pills. They were herbal. She’d be fine.
****
Nick was worried about Sylvie. Her dilated pupils and restlessness made him wonder if she was high on something. Surely not. Sylvie wasn’t the sort to fall into the drugs scene. She didn’t even smoke.
Lara said Sylvie was upset about Alex still being AWOL. Nick hoped that was all it was. Sylvie didn’t look good at all.
****
Sylvie felt beyond weird, otherworldly, and remote from everything. Her body was tense and jittery, while her head was strangely numb. She was so stressed about the service. She had a buzzing in her ears too—a high-pitched whine like a mosquito. She shook her head, but it wouldn’t budge. Perhaps she had water in her ears, from the shower?
She watched as Jordan made the opening speeches, his soft drawl carrying easily across the assembled crowd of people. Lara stood to her left, Nick on her right. All she saw was a mass of faces, some familiar, some not. When they started blurring together, she forced herself to concentrate. Her body might be there, but her mind had left the building.
A minister stood next and made a blessing of some sort. Soft weeping punctuated the silence.
Jordan read the list of the deceased. In a few minutes it would be Sylvie’s turn to step forwards and say a few words about Rico.
****
Alex kept thinking about his dream of Rico and how real it was. Something else nagged at him. When he asked Sylvie about the damn knife, she said because he wants me to, not wanted. That was odd. She dreamed of Rico at night, which hurt, but maybe they were like Alex’s dream—an out of context conversation with Rico.
He’d seen enough shrinks to know dreams were a mechanism for talking through his inner fears. It could be the same for her. Nothing more than unresolved issues.
All too soon, the cab arrived at the reconstructed TM-Tech office block. Alex gazed up at the building. It looked different. His memories of last being here jostled in his head, but he pushed them aside and gave his name to the security guard on the door.
“Come in, Mr. Hamilton. The ceremony is underway, sir,” the man warned politely. “Please be quiet as you go in.”
****
Adele stood with a group of her colleagues on a balcony overlooking the foyer, a few yards away from Karl. They smiled at each other but were unable to get closer without pushing through the crowd. She scanned the packed area below, amazed at the number of people attending.
She saw Nick and Lara, framing a skinny, dark-haired girl who clutched both their arms, her head bent.
The only sound was a young woman on the dais, reading a eulogy for her husband. A swishing noise caught Adele’s attention, and she looked up to see the main doors opening for a late attendee.
A tall, scruffy man slipped in and took a position against the back wall. He looked oddly familiar. Where had she seen him before?
****
Jordan stood at the front, introducing each of the speakers.
Sylvie was next, to speak for Rico. She looked terrible. Would she go through with it? If she couldn’t, Jordan would talk on her behalf.
To his relief, Nick slipped an arm around her waist and guided her forwards. She trembled, as though she couldn’t stand by herself, so Nick stood with her on the dais.
Sylvie stared at the memorial statue for a moment and touched the surface with her fingertips. It was a beautiful piece of cast bronze that Jordan had commissioned. Seven birds, flying upwards into the sky. One for each of the victims.
It felt like an age later, when Sylvie turned to face the crowd and began to speak. Her eyes were downcast, and she spoke freely, rather than reading from a page. Her voice was soft, but everyone hung on her words.
“I only knew Rico Sanchez for a short period. He came into my life and turned it around in a matter of weeks. Nothing was ever the same again. He made the world better. He had such a strong and generous nature, and a fierce desire for justice—the victory of right over wrong. He was loyal and brave. He...” She stopped for a moment. Her eyes were closed, and she swayed like a flower in the breeze.
“Rico saved my life and died saving someone else. I will never forget what he did for me.” She paused again, opened her eyes, and looked up at the ceiling. “He gave me many things to remember him by. A sense of courage when all is lost. A determination to fight for what is right, and not just what is easy. He rescued me in another way too. It was Rico who was responsible for me finding the man who would become my husband—the person without whom my life is meaningless. Thank you, Rico.”
Nick started the process of guiding her to the side of the dais, and Jordan moved forwards to introduce the next speaker.
Sylvie froze, her gaze locked into the distance, and Jordan turned to see where she looked.
It was Alex, standing at the back. Thank fuck for that.
****
Alex gazed at Sylvie, longing for her so much that it physically hurt. She wore a black dress, close fitting with tiny pearly buttons down the front, that draped softly to her knees. Her legs were slim and gold, her eyes dark pools of colour in her pale face.
Who was the guy with her? Envy soured his mouth, but then he realised it was Lara’s husband. Nick. He came to lunch the other week, when they were fighting about Callum.
Sylvie was visibly in pieces, and Alex’s heart broke all over again at her courage in going through this alone. She didn’t know he was there. He listened to her words, expecting another surge of jealousy if she described her all-consuming love for Rico. Except she didn’t.
She mentioned Alex. She said that without him her life was meaningless.
Alex needed to sit down. He’d fucked up on a major scale. Had he unknowingly wrecked their marriage, the best thing that ever happened to him?
He needed to fix this. Right now. He had to squeeze to the front. To be with her.
She stopped speaking and lifted her head. For the briefest moment, their gazes met, and she smiled. A heartbeat later, her eyes rolled up into her head and she collapsed.
****
Lara dashed forwards, to help Nick carry Sylvie away from the crowd and into an empty conference room. He laid her on the carpet and shrugged out of his jacket, to bundle it up as a pillow.
She looked paper white, her breaths shallow. Lara patted her cheeks. “Sylvie,” she coaxed, “wake up, sweetie.”
Kate brought a glass of water, and then Alex burst in. Thank God he was here.
“Sylvie. Did she faint?” Alex’s voice was hoarse. He dropped to his knees beside her and picked up her hand. He looked as bad as she did.
“I’m not so sure,” said Nick. “Was she taking anything?”
“Of course not. She doesn’t even take vitamins.” Alex made it sound ridiculous.
Lara felt she ought to speak. “Um, that’s not true. I saw her take some supplements earlier. Little yellow things. She said they were herbal.”
Nick snorted. “Herbal, my arse. She was high.”
Alex stared at him. “High? Sylvie?”
“Yeah. Her pupils were dilated. I wondered if she was on something, but I thought it was nerves.” Nick placed a hand on Sylvie’s forehead. “She’s burning up. Guys, I’m calling an ambulance.”
****
Alex couldn’t focus. He stared at Lara. “Little yellow things,” he echoed. “Do you know where she keeps them?”
Lara ran a hand across her face. She was crying. “In her bag.”
Kate rifled through Sylvie’s handbag and tugged out a clear glass pill bottle. Half a dozen yellow capsules rattled around with some larger white tablets. What the fuck?
“She mentioned sleeping pills as well,” said Lara.
Sleeping pills? Supplements? Alex couldn’t catch his breath. How did this happen to Sylvie? It was unreal. Where did she get them from? And why?
He knew why. He’d pushed her to this, telling her they were breaking up.
If it was anybody’s fault, it was his.
Alex held her hand, checking her pulse as best he could. It was racing. Memories of finding Sam’s body assaulted him. He would not lose Sylvie as well.
What were the pills? He shook some into his palm. Fuck. He knew these only too well. “You’re right. These ain’t herbal.”
Nick frowned. “What are they? Speed? Acid?”
“Speed. Looks like Dexedrine. The white ones are tranks—downers.” Alex spoke with the bitter voice of experience. “Sleeping pills to knock you out, but then you need the speed during the day to get you going again.” This was why Sylvie had been drinking gallons of coffee. To counteract the downers. And it explained why she slept so heavily yet was so tired when she awoke.
Nick cursed softly as he disconnected his call. “There’s been an accident at the docks. The ambulance could take up to twenty minutes to get here.”
Alex stood and lifted Sylvie in his arms, cradling her to his chest. How much weight had she lost? Her body felt fragile “I’ll take her there myself if I have to. Does anyone have a car here?”
Nick glanced at Lara. “This way,” he said. “TM-Tech has a fleet of pool cars in the underground garage.” He led the way, Lara holding his hand.
Alex followed Nick through a maze of corridors and down to the basement. Nick pressed a key fob and opened up a Saab saloon.
“I’ll drive.” Nick slid behind the wheel, Lara took the passenger seat, and Alex sat in the back with Sylvie in his arms.
“Sylvie,” he whispered, stroking the hair from her clammy forehead. “What have you done?”
Nick gunned the engine, and the car shot out into the road. “Is her pulse steady?” he called out to Alex.
“It’s racing. She’s overloaded.”
Nick tore down backstreets and through red lights, and did everything he could, to get them to the hospital. Alex made a mental note to thank him later. Lara had updated the ambulance service, and the A&E department were ready and waiting for them to arrive. They just had to get there.
“Hang on, baby. Stay with me.”
Her eyelids flickered, and then opened. Her eyes were unfocused, her pupils huge. She stared at him and frowned. “Alex?” It was a whisper.
“It’s me. We’re nearly at the hospital. You’re going to be okay.”
Her eyes closed again, but her lips moved. Alex had to put his ear next to her mouth.
“I knew you’d come,” she whispered. “I love you.”
She was gone again. Visions of amphetamine psychosis ran through Alex’s head. Accidental overdose. How long had she been taking them? How many did she take?
He didn’t believe in God, but he’d bargain his soul and everything he owned if it could keep her alive.