Chapter Twenty-Eight

What’s dat smell, bitch?’ The pasty-looking teenager sniffed the air. Ruby didn’t recognise him, but she knew his mates who were hanging around in the stairwell of her block of flats. He dug his hands down the front of his tracksuit bottoms, dragging them even further down his torso. ‘It’s bacon, that’s what, ’n’ it stinks.’

‘Leave her alone, man, that’s Ruby. She’s alright she is,’ the tallest of the three said. At twenty years old, Darren was a young man who was respected on the estate, and Ruby figured the gobby one was most likely trying to impress him. Darren’s mother was a heroin addict who shoplifted to fund her habit. Ruby had taken him under her wing a couple of years ago when she helped him to get an apprenticeship in a hotel kitchen. It was all thanks to Nathan, of course, who pulled in a favour to give the kid a chance to become a trainee chef. His mother was still shooting up most nights, but at least now he had his own money and a little bit of hope. Ruby figured that spending his evenings in the stairwell with his mates was better than watching his mum get high.

‘Cheers, mate,’ she said to Darren, offering him a cigarette. They were currency around here, and it was wise to have a pack handy, just in case. ‘You’ve not seen anyone suspicious knocking around tonight, have you? It’s just that I’ve been getting a bit of grief lately and I think they know where I live. Anyone come this way that you don’t know?’

Darren took the cigarette and slid it behind his ear. ‘Nah, we ain’t seen nobody. Just the usual dropouts.’

‘You gettin’ grief, miss? You should call the police,’ the youngest of the group sniggered.

‘Miss?’ Ruby said, stifling a laugh. ‘You’re not in school now, although by the looks of it, it’s way past your bedtime.’

She disappeared into the lift to the sounds of their laughter. Sure they had their fair share of troublemakers on the estate, and gang culture was evident, but there were a lot of decent kids just trying to get by. Thoughts of Darren and his crew fell away as the lift ascended to her floor. She had been dreading going home all day and had left only when Downes had kicked her out of the station at just gone eleven.

It seemed to take for ever to get her key in the fob, and the first thing she did when she got into the living room was to reach her hand across the paint-blistered wall and turn on the light. The round paper lampshade cast the space in a gloomy yellow hue. She wondered what she was doing staying in a dump like this. She still had the keys to Nathan’s flat in her bag, and it took all of her willpower not to turn on her heel and go there. Gently closing the door, she scoped out her flat. Apart from an old-fashioned dresser, a second-hand sofa and a ten-year-old TV, the living room was completely sparse. Her bedroom housed a small double bed and wardrobe, and the kitchen was no bigger than a cupboard, with basic amenities for cooking. But she preferred to eat at work, and despite the station kitchen not being much bigger, the food tasted better from there. Her flat had always given her the creeps. She had not been surprised to discover that the previous tenant was found overdosed on the sofa because a faint echo of his hopelessness still hung in the air. Still, it was as much as she could afford with her budget, and relatively close to work.

Satisfied the place was empty, she poured herself a drink. Had someone been in her flat? The truth was she did not want to know. For now, she was alone. But for how long? Cursing her paranoia, she knocked back the contents of her glass. A slug of whiskey hit the back of her throat, running like firewater into her belly and rewarding her with a warm glow. A gift from Downes before he discovered her penchant for rum. She kicked off her shoes and leaned back on the sofa, watching the door. To her right was the bottle of whiskey. To her left was a baseball bat. But she was plagued with thoughts, and even the alcohol coursing through her bloodstream could not make her feel any better.

By one a.m., all she could think about was Nathan, and she longed for his company. Drunk on whiskey and feeling insecure, calling him seemed like the best idea she’d had all week. She wiped her hand with the back of her mouth, slowly screwing the lid back on the bottle. I just want to hear his voice, she thought, then I’ll go to bed. Her reservations muffled behind a drunken stupor, she dropped to her knees in the corner of the room and peeled back the stained red carpet. The smell of dried-in cigarette butts rose up to greet her but she continued until she found the loose wooden floorboard. Her secret hidey hole: one that even her fellow police officers would not locate. Pulling back the loose board she swore as her thumbnail ripped backwards, making her yelp.

Ruby shook her finger, the broken nail sending darts of pain up her thumb. She sucked it hard before examining the damage, feeling like a toddler that had been relegated to the naughty step.

‘Shit,’ she said, shaking her hand one more time before digging out the phone. It was turned off, and she didn’t have the charger. Hesitating only seconds, she pressed the on button, deciding to leave it to the lap of the Gods. If the phone’s battery was flat, then she would just go to bed. If it came alive she would make the call. The screen lit in a blue hue, and her heart gave a small leap in her chest. Fine. That was the way it was going to be. She called up the only number saved on the phone, filed under the letter ‘N’.

Biting her lip, she listened to it ring out, her sensible thoughts drowned by the numbness of alcohol. An automated answering machine told her to leave a message. It was a shame. She would have liked to have heard him speaking. Inhaling a deep breath she realised she had dialled before rehearsing what she was going to say. ‘It’s me.’ Long pause. ‘I just want to ask what’s going on? I mean, have you been in my flat because someone’s been in my flat, more than once, and, well, I don’t like it. If this is some kinda ploy to frighten me… well, I know you wouldn’t do that, but if it’s your brother… ’ She rubbed her forehead, wishing her words would make sense instead of a jumbled mess. ‘Oh, listen, it doesn’t matter. I’m drunk… very drunk… forget I called.’ She hung up the phone and turned it off, managing to place it under the flooring before going to bed.

Bringing the baseball bat for company, she stripped off her clothes and left them in a pile on the floor before climbing under her duvet.


It felt like coming out of a coma when she was woken by a figure standing over her, cast under the shadow of moonlight. Grasping the baseball bat between her hands, she drew back to swing in defence as her heart clattered out of her chest in horror.

‘Babe, babe, it’s me, take it easy.’

‘What?’ Ruby said, still half asleep, as her body had jumped to her defence before her mind caught up.

Nathan pulled off the black woollen hat and sat on the edge of her bed. ‘Shit, Ruby, do you sleep with a baseball bat?’

‘You’re lucky it wasn’t a knife.’ She leaned her head back against the pink padded headboard as she allowed him to take it from her hands. Her broken thumbnail stung, reminding her she was not dreaming. Besides, her dreams of Nathan were happy and carefree. On a beach, or in a cosy room with a crackling fire. Not sitting on the bed dressed in black like the Milk Tray man. ‘You frightened the crap out of me,’ she said as soon as she caught her breath. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘You called me.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

Nathan took the glass from the bedside table and gave it a sniff. ‘Mr Jameson says you did.’

A vague recollection of a rambling message came back to her. What had she been thinking? ‘Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean for you to drop everything.’

Nathan tore his eyes away from her skimpy camisole before rising from the bed and walking around the room. ‘You said someone’s been in here?’

‘Yeah,’ Ruby said, smoothing back her hair as she wondered how he gained access to her flat. ‘It’s a proper Piccadilly Circus in here.’

‘You shouldn’t be staying in this dive. It’s not secure.’

‘Obviously,’ she said, and gave a wry grin. All the same, she didn’t want to be left on her own. Not now she was sober. ‘Have you time for a cuppa?’

Nathan took the chair at the end of the bed. ‘Sure, it’s not as if I was busy or anything.’

‘Oh… sorry, do you need to go?’

Nathan waved her concerns aside. ‘It was just a party. I was glad of the excuse to get away.’

With graceful ease Ruby slipped out of bed, clad in nothing but a white satin cami and mismatched knickers. She kept him talking as she made the drinks, worried he might slip away as effortlessly as he’d found his way in. One thing about Nathan: you never knew what was going on in his head. She decided on two hot chocolates instead, wondering what his tough nut cronies would think if they saw him sipping the drink covered in whipped cream and mini marshmallows. It was the least she could do given he had dropped everything to come to her.

‘I thought I wasn’t going to see you again,’ she said, sprinkling the last of her marshmallows.

‘You’re a hard habit to break.’

‘Yeah like nicotine, or something toxic.’ She was going to say drugs, but she didn’t want to spoil the moment. Handing him the mug, she grinned as he took a sip, resisting the urge to lick the whipped cream clinging to his top lip.

She climbed into bed and budged up, patting the space beside her. ‘C’mon, come and sit beside me. I promise I won’t pounce.’

Nathan joined her on the bed, sitting on top of the covers. ‘Why don’t you stay in your new flat? It’s a lot safer. Look how easy I got in here. Anyone could have walked in, and you’ve got your fair share of enemies around here.’

Ruby shuddered. She had put enough people away in the last few years to know he was right. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, I was ready for you. I only stopped because I recognised your voice.’ It was true. Nathan’s deep voice was one she could identify anywhere.

‘I’m serious. I can’t help you if you don’t help yourself. Who have you pissed off now?’

‘Have you spoken to your brother?’

‘Yeah, I have and he’s not been near the place. I know it’s not been the same since you went to the other side, but my mum still has a lot of respect for you and your family. She wouldn’t allow anything to happen to you.’

The other side? Ruby swallowed back the words on the edge of her tongue. Mentioning Frances, his apparent girlfriend Leona, or her meeting with Lenny would not go down well. She leaned her head on Nathan’s shoulder. He was cold but smelt good. It was a safe smell. She wasn’t about to shatter the misguided faith he held in his brother, and she certainly was not going to tell him about her communication from Lucy.

Giving their daughter up was something she knew pained Nathan no end. It brought them together each year on the day of her birthday. If he knew Ruby was directly in communication with her he would stop at nothing to have her back in his life. The only thing that had prevented him from finding her already was the hope that she was happy and settled with a family of her own.

‘I’ll go to the flat. But not tonight. Stay awhile, please?’

Nathan answered by leaning back on the bed and folding his arms.

Sleep overcame Ruby, and soon she was back in one of those dreams where she and Nathan had lit a fire in the squat. They were lying back on the blankets, staring up at the ceiling; her head on his chest as they dreamt of the future.


The shrill ring of the alarm pierced her brain into an abrupt awakening. She grasped the floor for the clock that was vibrating on its back as the key wound anticlockwise, sounding the only ring that was loud enough to wake her. Slowly she began to piece together the happenings of the night before, and she leaned up on her elbows, casting her eyes around the room for signs of Nathan. Was he really here last night? She lifted the pillow to her face and breathed in his familiar intoxicating smell. He must have fallen asleep for a while, then left at dawn. It didn’t matter what time it was he always woke with the sun. Her mouth felt like sandpaper, and she smacked her tongue against the roof of her mouth; awaking with her usual regret for putting her weakness on display. Why did she drink when it made her so needy?

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she stepped out of bed and smiled at the empty cup on the table. She vaguely remembered making hot chocolate, and was pleased to see he had drunk it. She could cope with Nathan cutting himself out of her life as long as she knew he was there if she needed him. It was selfish but not something she was willing to give up just yet. A year without her lover had brought pain and loneliness she had never felt before, and as she picked up the empty bottle of whiskey and threw it in the bin a small part of her vowed never to return there. But it was not something she had the luxury of dwelling on – as she stepped out from under her dripping showerhead her phone rang to demand her presence at work.