Untouchable Things (47 page)

Anna grabbed José. “Come on, it’s feckin’ freezing out here. And I’m feckin’ starving.”

José raised his eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you feckin’ fasted?”

“Too feckin’ right I did. And I won’t be doing that again anytime soon, I can tell you.”

Turns out they’d all followed the instructions and refrained from eating all morning.

Shows you the power he had over us. He could even control us remotely.

So it seems, Mr Maslowe.

Michael bent to remove the clip from the leg of his trousers as he locked up his bike. “This had better be something special. I’m not in the mood for silly pranks today.”

Anna snorted. “I’ll take any prank if someone feeds me first. What’ve you got there, Catherine?”

Catherine blushed slightly. “Just an apple crumble. I said I’d bring pudding. I probably should have done something a bit fancier…”

“You’re kidding? Apple crumble’s my absolute favourite.”

Catherine blushed brighter at the unusual compliment from Anna. Charles resisted the sudden urge to skip up the path.

Seth buzzed them in and they sauntered up the stairs, still debating what was on the menu. The door to Seth’s flat was closed.

“It’ll be on the latch. Give it a shove.”

Michael rapped hard, giving them all a sideways glance. “What did I tell you? God knows what he’s got up his…”

The door opened onto Seth. Charles noticed the striped dressing gown first; so, things were running late. The smell of smoke hit him next, making him wince and recoil towards the clean, cold corridor air. Only then did he take in Seth’s face. Bloodshot eyes, dense black stubble. And two deep, bloody scratches down one side of his face.

He smiled slightly. “Thank God you’re here.”

His breath reeked of whisky. They stared like wide-eyed dolls. Charles thought of Michael’s words outside. Could this possibly be a prank?

Then Anna took a step forward. “What’s happened? What’s wrong with your face?”

A raised eyebrow, pulling at one of the scratches. “I’m in a bit of a mess. Come in and see for yourself.”

They stumbled after him, exchanging worried glances that were caught by the hall mirror. Empty beer cans lined the skirting boards. Cigarette butts on the polished floorboards. It smelt like there’d been a house fire. Charles felt in his hip pocket for his inhaler. He’d need it in a minute.

As they approached the drawing room they heard a husky female voice, a voice that didn’t belong in this flat.
Oo the fuck is that?

Michael stopped short so that Anna bumped into him. “What’s going on, Seth?”

But he didn’t answer. The first thing Charles saw from the doorway was an overturned chair. The curtains were closed and the air thick with cigarette smoke, almost unbreathable. He pulled out his hanky and held it over his mouth. His dinner jacket would never be the same again. As he swivelled in the doorway he saw a half-naked woman appear through the haze, dressed in a short, ruffly white nightie and clutching handfuls of clothes to her as she turned away. The back of her long, red hair was matted and wild.

What the bleedin’ ’ell?
came the voice.

Even Anna was silenced. It was rude to stare but what else could they do? Michael muttered an obscenity as Seth extended an arm. “This is – sorry, I don’t think I caught your name, pet.”

“Pet? I’ll bleeding pet you.” The woman turned and they gasped now as she loomed out of the smog like something from a horror film. Her middle-aged face was contorted and smeared with blood. Her right eye was half closed and her upper lip swollen. A thin, red stream ran out of her left nostril towards her chin.
Drip drip drip
, plopping rhythmically onto the cream carpet, splattering crimson into abstract patterns. Dark smudges of bruising or make-up criss-crossed with the blood. Catherine let her dish of crumble slide to the floor, dropping it clumsily by the wall, but no one even looked down. They stared, mesmerised.

It might sound odd but even then part of me wondered if it was a set-up, a trick.

“For God’s sake. Use this.” Seth pushed his own handkerchief at the woman and waved an ineffectual arm at the smoke. “Look, can you at least get dressed? We’ll give you some privacy.”

They were rooted, gawping; he had to push and pull at them to herd them out.

Michael’s face was ashen. He grabbed Seth’s arm, hissing, “What the hell’s going on? Is this some kind of sick joke?”

“If only.” Seth gestured them into the study and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“Just that.” He pulled his dressing gown tighter around him and Michael looked away. Seth cast his eyes round the room. “Where the fuck are my cigarettes?”

“Leave it, Seth. Just tell us what happened.” He nodded at Anna and they all gathered round him, squashed like children sharing a secret. “Look, a few chaps came back here last night.” Charles reads the looks around him, hurt and jealousy that he hadn’t asked any of them to join him. “It was pretty full-on.” José folds his arms. “I must have passed out about two o’clock. When I came round this morning the place was empty apart from the charming lady in my drawing room, whom I assure you I had never seen before. I presume someone got a little over-excited at some point and ordered her in, so to speak.”

“Ordered her… what, like a Chinese takeaway?” There was disgust in Michael’s voice.

“Precisely. Late night appetites and all that. Don’t shoot the messenger, old bean.” He held his palms up in appeal. “Anyway, when I got up I found this woman spitting like a wild cat and bleeding all over my cream carpet.” He put a hand up to the side of his face. “Don’t think she was particularly pleased to see me either.”

Michael frowned. “She just attacked you?”

“Oh, it gets worse.” He lowered his voice and they leaned in further. “She claims she’s been drugged.”

“Sweet Jesus.” Anna.

“I know.” He looked at them with an expression of bewilderment, lingering on Catherine who reached out a hand to him. “Let’s just say I could be in a lot of bother. I didn’t do anything but it’s my house, of course. Who would believe me?”

“Can you get hold of the other people who were here?” José asked.

Seth blew out a sigh and shook his head. “Not a chance. Casual acquaintances, at best.” He looked at Catherine again. “Sorry, I’ve been a bit stupid.” She had red rings around her eyes and hadn’t spoken yet.

Michael was still frowning at Seth. “But we have to call the police. We have to find out who did this. Just because she’s a… sex worker doesn’t mean she should be beaten to pulp.”

Anna stepped closer. “But, Michael, Seth’s right. He’ll get done for this. It’s him who’ll be locked up, not the nut job who did this.”

Michael made a guttural sound through clenched teeth. Seth looked from one to the other, eyes wide, throwing himself on their mercy.

“I’ll be guided by you. If you think we should call the police that’s what we’ll do. I know I can’t do anything without your help…”

His voice petered off and José squeezed his arm. “We’ll help you. We’ll help you in any way we can.”

Michael glared at him. “Will we? How?”

Everything was unfolding in its normal way, other people debating and deciding and he, Charles, watching from the edge, unsure of what he thought and what to do. Embarrassingly, his stomach let out a long whine.

Seth laughed a little through his nose. “Yes, sorry about that, chaps. You must all be famished. I haven’t exactly got very far with lunch yet.”

No one replied. They were all still standing in their winter coats. Anna suddenly threw hers off and began to pace in a black shift dress. Her bracelets clanked as she turned. “Okay, this is what we’re going to do.” She turned to Seth. “How much cash have you got on you?”

“Cash? Oh, I see. One second.” He opened the door and reached his wallet from the hall shelf. “Ah. Empty. I presume that was her friend.”

“
Friend?
”

“She claims another girl was here too. Never mind, there’s always my secret stash.”

He returned from the bedroom with a wad of notes. “I reckon this should cover it. Good thinking, Anna.” He winked at her. “Come.”

“What? You’re just going to pay her off?” Michael made to bar the door.

Catherine spoke for the first time. “It may not be a bad outcome for her. It’s probably not the first time she’s been hurt. At least we can give her some money to help sort herself out.”

Charles noticed the
we
, the fact that they were suddenly very much part of this. But still he did nothing, waited for the others to make a decision. Seth inclined his head and Anna, Catherine and José left the room with him. Michael and Charles looked at each other and followed on.

They hung back in the doorway while Seth went into the drawing room. The woman, now clothed in fishnet tights and a short skirt, was sitting on the edge of a chair dabbing her face. The white negligee lay bloodstained at her feet like a bandage.

Seth coughed. “Look, I’m terribly sorry this has happened.”

She looked up and there was hatred in her disfigured face. “You won’t get away with this. I’ll call the pigs.”

Seth raised an eyebrow. “I doubt that very much.”

She scowled. Seth moved towards her. “How about this, to help you forget?” She looked at the money in his hand. Charles held his breath.
One elephant, two elephants, three
… She lunged for it. Counted it, quick, like a bank clerk. Then looked up at all of them, face by face.

“Scum.”

She stood up in tottering heels and they jostled each other trying to clear her exit. On her way past Seth she grabbed at her head and a cascade of tangled red hair hit him in the eye. She was blonde, black roots to match the black chequers across her cheeks.

Seth’s eyes opened wide. “Lord, it’s one surprise after another today.”

She spat in his face. A shimmering glob of saliva landed near the corner of his mouth.

For the first time he lost his cool. “You stupid bitch.”

Charles saw a flash of fear in her good eye as she flinched like a startled rabbit. Then she smirked slowly and extended a hand. “Want your hanky back?”

Charles watched Seth’s eyes harden into bottle green glass, the saliva starting to dribble towards his chin, and instinctively reached out to hold his arm. He felt the muscles flexing under his fingers. Then Seth snorted, threw off his hand and reached for a tissue from the coffee table. The woman pushed past them and the door banged shut in the hall.

So you just let her go? How hurt was she?

Well, that was the other thing. She passed right by me as she left and I saw some marks on her neck.

Marks?

Like a band of bruising.

Like she’d been throttled?

I think so. Yes.

And did you mention it to anyone else?

Er, no. I don’t know if they noticed. I was in shock, I suppose. We all were.

They spent the next two hours cleaning up, light-headed and white-faced. The party aftermath wasn’t too bad once the furniture had been righted, just a few empty bottles and full ashtrays, beer cans and softening peanuts. Seth said he’d done some clearing up before going to bed. Catherine got down on her hands and knees in a burgundy ball gown tied with a sash at the back and scrubbed at the bloodstained carpet for an hour. Charles felt bad seeing her like that, as though she was Seth’s scullery maid. He stationed himself by her side, changing the water in her bucket when it turned dark and cloudy, mostly feeling useless. None of them really spoke to each other. They worked in silence like a team of cleaners with a mission to accomplish. All of them did their bit, even Michael. Only Seth breezed from room to room, offering coffee and light refreshments.

“Imagine waking up to find
that
in your house. Christ, it was like
Jane Eyre
with Bertha Mason on the loose.” Catherine jolted and stared up at him.

“What is it, my little honeypot?”

“Nothing. I just know that book very well.”

He closed his eyes and put his hands out. “Jane, come back to me, Jane.”

“Stop it.”

But he must have heard the smile in her voice because he carried on, moving towards her and stubbing his toe on the bucket, which sloshed a warning. “Ouch.” He opened his eyes and stared down at the carpet and its new coat of murky brown splodges. “Not much good as a blind man, I’m afraid. I’ll leave you to it.”

But he was back minutes later with a handful of garish takeaway menus. “Sorry about the roast, chaps. I know it’s not quite the same, but would pizza do you? On me, of course. Order as many toppings as you like.”

Anna was holding up the white, frilly negligee at arm’s length as a pizza menu landed at her feet. She kicked it aside. “What shall I do with this? It’s covered in blood.”

They all stared. It looked as though someone had been shot in it.

“Um. I suppose we’d better get rid of it. I’ll fetch you a bin bag.”

Anna bagged it up and stuck it in another bin bag full of rubbish. Charles felt his stomach turn. But still he found himself an hour later eating pizza on the sofa. He started by nibbling tiny mouthfuls, revolted by the idea of food, but halfway through the second piece realised how hungry he was, how easily the salty, slippery triangles slithered down his gullet. All eight pizzas disappeared, plus most of Catherine’s crumble. The dark blotches on the carpet watched them like bloodied eyes.

Next time he went round the carpet was gone and the floorboards sanded and varnished. Seth slung an arm over his shoulder. “Just fancied a change, Charlie boy. Knew you’d approve.”

Thank you, Mr Maslowe. I will try to look at the incident records from that time to see if any complaint was made, or similar incidents recorded, but it seems unlikely.