Davie is sitting on the bridge when he spots Marie in the distance. He waves, but her head is down. She looks like she’s reading something on her phone. It’s a scorcher of a day. After a night of thunder and lightning, the air has cleared and the sun is beating down. Davie’s dressed casually, in a pair of long shorts and a white polo shirt. He’s double-sprayed himself with deodorant, hoping that the Lynx effect isn’t just a myth. Marie is dressed in tight black jeans and a fitted black T-shirt with a purple tartan collar. Her hair is neatly combed, and she’s got a small red bag slung across her shoulder. She’s already dropped her phone into the bag by the time she reaches him.
She stands on tiptoes and kisses him on the cheek. He feels the stickiness of her lipstick, freshly applied. She smells of herbal soap and talc. Davie feels a sudden rush of happiness. She’s made an effort for him. Maybe it’s not over yet. He wants to tell her about the woman in the hospital, about how scared he was when he thought it might be her.
Instead, he says, ‘You smell gorgeous.’
‘So do you,’ she replies, leaning in to his chest, sniffing at him. She steps back and beams up at him.
He feels a moment of panic. Her smile is there, but her eyes are dull, red-rimmed. She looks like she’s been crying.
‘Everything OK? I’ve been trying to speak to you for days. Seem to keep missing you. All OK at work?’
She waves a hand, dismissing him. ‘Let’s walk. Work’s the same old. Nothing to report. Bill still likes to stand too close. Wendy is still a pain in the arse. Helen’s tops are still too tight. Blah blah. Oh, one thing though – wee Laura seems to have found herself a boyfriend. Getting serious by the sounds of it. I tried to tell her to ease up, but you know what it’s like.’
‘Young love, eh? I can barely remember.’
Davie remembered his first love like it was yesterday. They’d never even got together properly, and now she was long gone. He still thought about her. He’d never been able to find someone to fill the gap she’d left in his life when she chose someone else over him, leading to a life of unhappiness for them both. Not to mention what it did to her daughter. Talking of which, he was expecting a call from Jo soon. He’d become a sort of official guardian to her of late. The judge had been lenient because of her circumstances. She was getting weekly counselling inside. She’d need that indefinitely. There aren’t many people who can kill someone in self-defence and escape mentally unscathed. Especially when they weren’t the most stable of people in the first place. Being in prison wasn’t the worst place for her at the moment. She wouldn’t be there forever.
They walk silently, both lost in their own thoughts. Davie reaches out a hand and is glad when Marie takes it. Her hand is so small inside his own. He squeezes it, and she squeezes back. He knows she’s keeping something to herself, and he’s not going to push it.
The sounds of the fairground drift across the expanse of grass towards them. Davie feels a small flutter of excitement. He’s glad to be walking here, hand in hand with Marie, but he’s thinking about something else too. He’s waiting for Malkie to get back to him on his theory about the drugs being transported from town to town by someone connected to the fair, but while he’s here he’s hoping to have a good snout about.
As they cut through between the Waltzer and the Dodgems, a teenage boy and girl come barrelling towards them from under the flap of a tent. They’re giggling, grabbing at each other. Davie vaguely recognises the girl. He’s seen her with Laura once or twice. Heidi or Hannah. Something like that.
‘Having fun, Hayley?’ Marie calls as they run off round the back of the stalls. The girl turns and waves. She has a pink streak in her hair that Davie quite likes. The boy turns and gives them a sneering grin. ‘She hangs about with Laura sometimes,’ Marie explains. ‘Did you see who she was with?’
Davie shakes his head. ‘No, didn’t recognise him.’
‘He was in the pub the other day. He’s one of the fairground lads. I’m not one to judge, but he’s a dodgy-looking sort. That girl wants to be careful.’
Davie watches as the couple disappear in behind another of the rides. Interesting, he thinks. Clearly a charmer, if he’s picked up one of Laura’s friends after only being here a few days.
Marie has dropped Davie’s hand and she now has both hands shoved into her pockets. They’ve stopped walking and they lean against a pole in the middle of the fair. All Davie can hear are the sounds of the slot machines in the tent nearby. The music is so loud he’s tuned it out. He watches Marie and sees that she’s staring at the rifle range.
‘Fancy a go? Come on, I’ll win you something,’ he says.
She turns to look at him and, for a second, the expression on her face is confusion – as if she doesn’t know who he is. She blinks. ‘Sorry, I was miles away. Actually, can we go on the Big Wheel?’
The Big Wheel isn’t particularly big, not compared to those huge things like the London Eye or even those big old ones he’s seen on TV, like the Wonder Wheel in Coney Island. He’d love to go to Coney Island, but he wouldn’t go anywhere near that wheel. He’d watched a documentary on it once. About the guy who built it. No accidents since 1900, apparently. Statistics dictated that it had to happen eventually, and the older it got, the odds were shortening. Davie wasn’t a gambling man, but he could imagine a disaster was imminent. It would be one of the moving carriages. The ones that slide along a rail inside as well as going round the circumference. Was it not frightening enough to be up so high, never mind in a carriage that made it look like you were going to slide off the rails and drop to the floor? Davie was terrified of heights. He managed to get away with most things in life without ever having to deal with that fear.
‘Er, how about the Dodgems instead?’ he says.
‘You’re not a scaredy-cat, are you, Davie? Big strong man like you.’ Marie laughs and drags him by the elbow towards the ride. He feels his heart start to beat faster. His palms have gone clammy and he wipes them on his shorts. He can’t get out of this without looking like a wimp. But he’s terrified.
Marie runs off towards the ticket booth. Davie waits, watches her. Takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself down. Get a grip, Davie. He decides that he will do it, but he’ll shut his eyes. She comes back waving a roll of paper tickets.
‘Come on . . .’
He was hoping for a queue, a final reprieve. But there is none.
The wheel creaks and lurches as they sit on the seats. It’s one of those with the swing seat and a bar. It couldn’t really be worse, in Davie’s opinion. He sits on the far side and Marie climbs up next to him. A skinny kid in a greasy T-shirt pulls the bar down in front, clicks it into place. He smacks a button next to the small control booth and the seat lifts up. It’s faster than he expected and the seat swings precariously. He grips onto the bar and closes his eyes.
‘Davie, I . . . Oh God, you’re actually scared, aren’t you? I thought you were joking. I wouldn’t have made you come on if I’d realised—’
‘It’s fine,’ he says, through gritted teeth. ‘Keep talking, though. Take my mind off it.’
‘It’ll be easier if you open your eyes.’
His stomach lurches as the carriage loops over the top of the circle, swings forwards as it starts to descend down the other side. He opens his eyes and sees the fairground sprawled out beneath them. He can see the hidden parts that you don’t see from the ground. The backs of the tents, the inner workings of things. The overflowing bins and stacks of empty boxes behind the burger vans. It starts on the second loop, and he realises Marie has fallen silent. He turns and sees that she is staring out towards the entrance of the fair.
‘What do you see?’ he says, sensing her bristle beside him.
Silence.
The ride descends for its third and final time, and Davie is glad to feel it slowing to a stop. The seat swings again as it pulls in to the exit point, before stopping. The skinny greaser lifts the bar and smirks. Marie still hasn’t said anything.
They walk away from the ride, not heading in any particular direction. He senses a change in her. It makes him feel uncomfortable.
‘Marie?’
She turns to face him, looks up. She’s been crying again, or trying hard at least to hold back her tears.
‘Marie. You’re scaring me. What is it?’
She takes his hand and presses something into his palm.
‘I want you to keep this. Please. I’ll explain later. Just keep it for me. Just in case.’
He looks down at what she has placed in his hand. Two brass keys attached to a cheap plastic photo-keyring, two young faces. He barely glances at it. Drops it into his pocket.
‘Marie—’
He whirls round, searching the crowd. The music sounds like it’s been turned up suddenly, the pounding beats crushing his skull. There is too much laughter. The air is filled with the stench of cheap meat, onions. Candyfloss. Children are shrieking. Rifles are being fired – pop pop pop – against the backboard. He turns the other way, panicked. Confused. She has disappeared.
Marie is gone.
He takes his phone out of his pocket. There is a small metallic chink as it rattles against the keys. He clicks on his call list, finds her number. Presses ‘dial’. It goes straight to voicemail.
‘Fuck,’ he says, too loudly. A young girl walking past with candyfloss stuffed in her face flinches, and her dad, walking hand in hand with her, throws him a filthy look.
He presses ‘call’ again. Voicemail.
He marches out of the fair, pushing his way through the crowds. He passes the girl with the pink streak in her hair. She’s laughing again. The boy she’s with stares at him. Smirks. Davie stares back. He wants to say something, but he can’t. He’s no reason to. He doesn’t want to make a fuss. He just wants to get the hell out of this place and find out what’s got into Marie.