‘What are we supposed to be doing? And should I be whispering?’ Chrissie and her electric blue suit were attracting interest from others walking along Deansgate, but Billie’s attention was elsewhere.
‘No need for whispering. I’m not sure what we’re looking for. But if I’ve got this right, then someone just might be following us.’
‘Oh great. And here’s me dressed for the incognito ball.’
‘You look wonderful, Chrissie. You always do. But right now, I’ve got a thing about men with ponytails. It’s all Ed’s fault.’
‘So what did you reckon to the old dame with the wig we just passed?’
‘That was a wig?’
‘Billie! It was pure black. Hey, she might have a ponytail underneath, though.’
‘Yeah, yeah. I can’t expect you to take this seriously, can I? Part of me almost wants something to happen just so I can prove how bad things are.’
‘Okay. I’ll behave. I promise.’
‘What do you want in Kendals anyway?’
‘Whatever you can afford to buy me. Maybe a black wig.’
He rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, but continued to stay alert as they approached the department store. More notes were compared after the shopping experience.
‘I spotted someone,’ said Billie. ‘At least I think so.’
‘Who? What did they look like?’
‘It was a guy with a shaved head in a maroon jacket, stood by the aftershaves. I’m almost certain he was in the hotel lobby.’
‘I call it burgundy, and yes he was.’
Billie stared at her. ‘You saw him too?’
‘Well, he was certainly next to the aftershaves. I noticed the jacket because you used to have one that colour. You were wearing it the day we met outside The People’s Palace.’
‘But you saw him at the hotel?’
‘Think so. Apart from the guys behind the desk, there wasn’t a lot of talent. Just you.’
‘Hang on a minute,’ said Billie, coming to a halt.
They were almost at the corner of Peter Street. He’d noticed a familiar colour in the huge plate glass window to Chrissie’s left. He looked over her shoulder, the reflection of the opposite side of the road given clarity in the sunshine. It took a moment for him to spot the man’s jacket, easier now its owner had also stopped walking.
‘We still need some lunch,’ said Billie.
‘Now you’re talking.’
He looked to his right at the Great Northern Warehouse. Five floors high and with white lettering painted on red brick, it occupied a whole block on the south side of Deansgate. Something tugged at his memory.
‘Or a beer. Come on, there’s a place I heard about right over there.’
He led the way across Peter Street, through large glass doors and into the cavernous interior of All Star Lanes, where a four-sided bar made a focal point. Tables and chairs surrounded the perimeter. Low-level lighting and a suspended ceiling completed the ambience with funky decor. Skittles fell under attack from an array of bowling alleys deep inside, provoking excited shrieks from the punters. They pushed past some girls greeting each other with air kisses and hugs, then Chrissie pointed Billie towards the only vacant barstool while she squeezed past hustling waiters in smart waistcoats to find the ladies room. On her return, she bargained for an adjacent seat with a flash of American charm and white teeth. Billie was studying the menu when Chrissie gave a theatrical whisper.
‘I spotted him. Burgundy jacket.’
‘Where?’
‘Just back there. Think he’s gone to use the john.’
Staring over heads towards the bowling alleys, Billie made a decision. ‘That settles it. Ed was right, they’re listening in somehow. I’ve got to be more careful, and I’m going to have to do something with this phone.’
‘You want another SIM card?’
‘Maybe. I keep thinking about what that Abram guy did to yours. Wish I could think of another way.’
‘What can I get you?’
Chrissie gave the bartender a dazzling smile and ordered a couple of cocktails while Billie looked round and spotted their follower grab a stool as it was vacated on the far side of the bar. He noticed the man place his own phone on the counter in front of him, but then someone obscured Billie's view.
‘What did you say?’
‘A chocolate orange martini, Billie! How cool is that? Call it a very late Easter present from me to you. There’s even an egg in it according to… sorry, what’s your name?’
‘Er… my name’s Matt, and it’s just the white of an egg.’
‘Well, Matt, we’ll both have one of your special martinis with the white of an egg, and then maybe some lunch, so go easy on the hors d'oeuvres, honey.’
With the order on its way, Billie came to a decision and explained his idea (and dilemma). Chrissie didn’t seem impressed.
‘But you promised me lunch! It’s been three years. We have one hour together and I’m ditched. What kind of reunion is that?’
‘The best kind. It means we can look forward to another one a lot sooner.’
Chrissie gave a girlish giggle. ‘You’re getting the hang of this flirting game, aren’t you?’
‘Not really,’ Billie admitted. ‘But it feels a lot better with you around.’
The honesty of the moment was not lost on either of them. Then the bartender broke the spell by producing two martini glasses filled with something a lot more appealing than the white of an egg.
‘Mmmm! Tasty.’ She took a second sip. ‘Great choice. Okay, Billie, that’s good to know. But you’re still ditching me?’
‘I’m not ditching you,’ Billie corrected her. ‘I’m just being cautious. They think I have something they want, or I can lead them to it, and they’re using my phone to try and get it. I think it’s best this way. We can compare notes later.’
They didn’t notice the seat on the far side of the bar had a new occupant. The previous one let the glass door swing shut behind him as he headed for a gaunt-looking man wearing a woollen hat who was sitting on a low wall, smoking.
‘You stand out like a traffic light in that thing, you wanker.’
‘No matter. I got the job done, didn’t I?’
‘So you say,’ was the grudging response. ‘Give me your phone. That green LED confirms the tag’s in place, right?’
‘Yeah. Look at the screen. The red blip will move when he does.’
‘Good. Now get back to your pit and plug your ears in. I want to see some results from this gizmo before I say if the job’s been done. Go on. Piss off.’ He watched his technician give a careless shrug of the shoulders and turn away. Then he gave the phone another glance and took a long drag on his cigarette.
Chrissie was the first to notice the change of personnel. ‘He’s gone.’
‘What?’
‘Your burgundy man. Must have left.’
Billie considered the situation and then shook his head. ‘He could be waiting outside. Or someone else. They might be working shifts.’
‘Sure you’re not being paranoid about this?’
‘I thought Emma was being paranoid, but not anymore. All the more reason to track her down myself and apologise.’ Billie swallowed hard, letting his gaze wander to the source of excited shouts from the nearby bowling lanes. ‘Burgundy man, as you call him, followed us from the hotel to Kendals and back. How do you explain that? I’ve got to find out what happened to Emma and I don’t want to let her down this time. Where’s Matt?’
Chrissie replaced the frown on her face with a brilliant smile and caught the attention of the bartender. ‘Matt, your drinks are delicious. This place is insane and I think I want to have your babies.’
Being several years junior to his admirer, the young man blushed at such a direct proposal from a glamorous punter. But it had the desired effect.
‘You want another one?’
‘No, sir. But my bodyguard here could use some assistance. Would you mind?’
Billie got straight to the point. ‘Matt, I’m guessing there’s a back way out of here?’ He received a nod in response. ‘Good. Would you be in a position to show me how to get there? There’s twenty quid in it for you.’
The bartender hesitated. ‘There’s no need for—’
‘Well, there’s something else too. And it could cost you a couple of quid. I might need you to post something to an address in Edinburgh.’
Billie explained to Matt what he wanted him to do. Then he turned to Chrissie. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. It was only four thousand miles and a twenty-minute shopping trip. Guess I got myself here under false pretences.’ Chrissie finished her drink.
‘Maybe next time will work out better.’
‘There’s gonna be one?’
He gave her an apologetic smile. ‘I can but try. I owe you. But I guess this is it, for now.’ Billie stood up, reaching out to grasp her shoulders and let their lips touch for a moment. He forced himself to stay focused. ‘Don’t forget, get a new SIM. We’ll use Robin to exchange numbers. Yes?’
She gave a small nod and a defeated little sigh, watching her friend follow the tall bartender and disappear from sight towards the back of the building. Then she swallowed the last of Billie’s cocktail and left by the front door.
Before she reached the corner of Deansgate, she passed a man wearing a woollen hat and smoking a cigarette. He was staring at something in his hand, but lifted his head to steal a glance at the vision in electric blue. Then he turned back to the display on his phone and nodded to himself. The tagged target was still inside All Star Lanes, probably visiting the gents. He watched the motionless red blip on screen and waited for it to move.
Inside, Billie glanced across the bowling lanes as the collapse of another battalion of skittles provoked a roar of celebration. Ahead of him, bartender Matt punched in a passcode then held open a door to a white-painted corridor. The contrast to the plush environment of the bar and restaurant could not have been starker. As the door swung shut behind them, Billie could hear the sound of his own feet on the concrete floor. The lighting was bright, the decor functional. They turned a couple of corners before Matt pointed out the gateway to his future.
He hoped he’d made the right decision.