Welcome To Wherever You Are (36 page)

Up until moments earlier when Tommy brushed him off, he’d even considered broaching the truth with him. But today’s meeting was a reality check, because Jake understood Tommy was never going to want anything but friendship from him, and he hated his clichéd behaviour in falling for a straight man he could never have.

No, he thought, and decided against placing his deepest, darkest secrets upon Tommy’s shoulders. Tommy was probably moving on from their friendship anyway, because all friendships made in hostels were transient. And in his experience, that was the case with all his relationships.

TWO YEARS EARLIER – NOTTING HILL, LONDON

‘What do you mean you did me a favour?’ Stuart repeated slowly.

Geri stared at her fallen protégé, briefly wondering if it would be better to backtrack rather than admit the truth. She decided against it.

‘What do you think it means?’ she snapped. ‘Pretty self-explanatory, sweetheart.’

‘You set me up? You got Katie to put those drugs on my lap just as we arrived at the hotel?’

‘That’s pretty much the bare bones of it. Let’s not forget tipping off the paps on your arrival. But I didn’t expect her to shove so much of that shit up her nose that it killed her. Typical of her though, wasn’t it? She took dying for fame too literally.’

‘But why?’ a stunned Stuart replied, ‘I didn’t do anything to you!’

Geri laughed. ‘Why? Why not? Because I bloody can! And you’re right, you didn’t do anything to me but you were quite happy to do a lot to Zak Stanley.’

Stuart stared at Geri, unsure of how to respond. Nobody, bar Zak’s sister, was supposed to know of their relationship.

‘Don’t think there’s a single aspect of your life I don’t know about, Stuey,’ Geri continued smugly. ‘I know about your little liaisons with the Hollywood hunk, I know you’re not pure as the driven snow when it comes to using illegal substances in the bedroom; in fact, I even have video footage of you two indulging in your sordid sex and coke romps. Which is why you’re going to keep your mouth shut about everything that’s been said in this room, because if I hear one word publicly from you, my footage is going to “mysteriously” leak online . . . and how much more humiliation can you take in twenty-four hours?’

‘If you . . . if you do that,’ Stuart stuttered, ‘then I’ll tell the press about the miming, your secret tax shelters, how you and Katie set me up, how you’re really to blame for her death. You’ll be ruined.’

‘And then I’m going vehemently deny it before suing the arse off you as you signed a non-disclosure agreement when I let you into my band. And it’s valid for five years after you leave – or are thrown out. I’ve got you over a barrel, sweetheart, a position, if I recall correctly, that you’re quite fond of.’

Stuart stepped backwards, reeling from the storm of threats and revelations Geri was raining down upon him.

‘You did all of this because I wasn’t interested in you?’ he asked hesitantly.

‘Like I said, it’s simply because I can.’

‘No, there’s more to it than that.’

‘Well I guess you can throw ratings into it too. The new series starts in a month, and everyone’s gonna be watching to see who’ll be the next wannabe to fuck up.’

‘You bitch.’

‘I’ll give you that, you’re perceptive. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s been lovely catching up, but I have a meeting with a young lad who’ll do anything, or more precisely, do me, to replace you.’

Suddenly anger, frustration, adrenaline and the drugs powering through Stuart’s nervous system connected in an angry alliance Stuart had never experienced before. Without thinking, he sprinted towards Geri, dragging her to the ground and clasping his hands around her neck. Twice he smacked her head against her parquet flooring before her security staff heard the commotion, dashed in and pulled him off her. One held Stuart’s arms behind his back as the other punched him twice in the stomach and once in the face.

A stunned Geri struggled to her feet and steadied herself with a trembling arm on the drinks cabinet. She coughed and spluttered and her throat hurt but she was still able to find her voice.

‘I rescued you from Holiday Inn hell, I made you a star and even after I ruined you, I still own you, you little prick,’ she bellowed. ‘And I will destroy you unless you get the fuck out of my house!’

Stuart struggled in vain as he was hauled out of Geri’s drawing room and into the hallway.

‘You can’t get away with this,’ he hollered.

‘Already have, sweetheart, already have,’ replied Geri, before pouring herself another glass of scotch.

Geri’s security men were too preoccupied with ejecting him from the hallway to notice what he’d swiped from a sideboard.

TODAY

There were many things that terrified Nicole about Eric in a short space of time, none more so than the look of greed and victory spreading across his face as he
held the pouch of diamonds in the palm of his hand.

Eric had killed once to get what he wanted, and she was convinced he would kill again. Her entire body trembled as she looked around for an escape route.

‘I presume you’ve had them valued?’ he asked.

‘How could I? You never let me out of your sight,’ Nicole lied.

‘Your boyfriend could have done it for you. Remind me to pay little Tommy a visit before I leave.’

Eric poured the contents of the pouch into his hand, but before he could stop her, Nicole leaped into action. She lurched towards him and slapped the underside of his hand, spraying the gems across the car park floor. Then, gambling on Eric choosing greed over revenge, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her towards the exit. Nicole’s hunch proved correct, as behind her, Eric hesitated, at first unsure of which way to turn before dropping to his hands and knees, frantically grabbing all the glistening jewels he could see.

He scooped them into his pocket and stood up, but as his right foot moved forward, he felt a crunching under his sole. He looked down to see a tiny fragment of shattered glass and suddenly, reality began to dawn upon him. He took out one of the diamonds from the pouch, placed it on the floor and trod on it. It too left a powdery residue.

‘Costume jewellery,’ he snarled, and pulled the syringe out of his pocket. ‘You’re dead, Nicole!’ he yelled at her fading, running footsteps and turned around to pursue her.

‘Put the syringe down, sir,’ came a stern, female voice from nowhere. Eric quickly turned his head to see two uniformed police officers, their pedal bikes by their side. Eric’s mind raced, as this had not been part of his plan, albeit a plan that had been altered the moment Nicole cleared out her belongings from their room. However, it had clearly been part of Nicole and Tommy’s.

‘This isn’t anything,’ he began, and walked towards them smiling.

The officers quickly reached for their guns and pointed them at him.

‘Put the weapon down, sir!’ shouted the officer.

‘Guys, guys,’ said Eric, panicking. ‘This isn’t a weapon – I’m diabetic, this is insulin.’

Eric dropped the needle, and while one officer covered her partner, the other pushed Eric against the side of the car, patted him down and handcuffed him.

‘It says morphine here,’ the first officer began, reading the label on the bottle he plucked from Eric’s pocket, ‘it doesn’t say anything about insulin.’

‘I can explain that,’ stuttered Eric.

‘I’m going to look in the vehicle,’ the second officer added, and radioed for assistance.

‘You need a warrant,’ said Eric nervously, ‘everything in there is rightfully mine.’

‘Everything in this car is rightfully yours, you say?’ asked the second officer, removing tarpaulin from the flatbed of the truck and looking underneath.

‘Um, yes,’ replied Eric nervously.

In the back of the truck was Nicole’s suitcase, but as the officer unstrapped the buckles and opened it, its only contents were five brick-sized packages of shrink-wrapped cannabis resin. Eric looked aghast as a patrol car made its way up a ramp and onto their level.

‘It’s not mine,’ he protested, but his words fell on deaf ears as he was read his rights and bundled into the back of the police car.

Nicole sprinted down three fire exits, two ramps, out of the car park and across the road to the safety of a bustling sidewalk.

She ran past the hostel and towards the beach, passing a parade of shops before she stopped behind a van parked outside a restaurant. She crouched down, struggling to catch her breath. Her head, stomach and nose ached, and her mouth felt dry before she was struck by an overwhelming urge to vomit. Last night’s Chinese food hit the ground before she heard a disgusted muttering and turned around to discover she was being watched by diners eating on a restaurant patio just metres away from her.

However, disapproving stares from strangers were the least of her worries. Nicole waited nervously until she saw headlights appear from the car park exit and a police vehicle leave. She stood up and squinted at the rear of the vehicle, and briefly made eye contact with Eric before he was driven out of sight.

‘He could have killed you!’ began Tommy, as Savannah wiped away grit and dried blood from Nicole’s forehead and nostrils.

Nicole lifted up her T-shirt and tentatively felt her ribs; none were broken, but she was quite sure they were bruised. Her nose was, however, broken, and she realigned it herself with a crack and a yelp before it had time to heal crookedly. Savannah had been keen to help when Tommy and Nicole turned up at her door looking for somewhere quiet to clean up and regroup, and used cotton wool buds from Jane’s first aid kit to clean a wound on Nicole’s chin and cheek.

‘Why didn’t you let me come with you if you thought he might be that dangerous?’ continued Tommy.

‘He wouldn’t have followed both of us, so I had to go on my own. And if you’d been with me, who’d have approached the police on the beach? What did you tell them?’

‘That someone had been selling drugs to hostellers from a pick-up truck, and that I’d just seen him in the car park. What’s Eric been charged with?’

‘I didn’t understand all the technicalities, but when I called pretending to be his sister Bridget to ask about bail, they said something about an intent to supply drugs, and possession of a potentially lethal weapon. The truck’s been impounded, and because it was shipped over here and registered in his name, there’s no link to me. And I can’t drive, so I’m not even named on the insurance.’

‘Why didn’t you tell the police what he did to his mom?’ asked Savannah.

‘Because it’s Eric’s word against mine. Mrs Baker was cremated, so they can’t do any toxicology tests on her body, and there’s no way Bridget will ever admit to being party to her mother’s murder.’

Nicole sighed and rubbed the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. ‘If what he was saying about Mrs Baker not believing he was being abused is true, then I feel terrible for him. But I did the right thing, didn’t I?’

‘I don’t think you had much of a choice,’ Tommy replied softly, ‘And don’t forget, you’re a wealthy woman now. What are you going do with the money?’

‘I’ve not really had time to think about it,’ sniffed Nicole. ‘I might stay in LA for a while and get my head together.’

Nicole held her hand out and placed it on Tommy’s. ‘Thank you, by the way. It’s good to know who your friends are.’

Only Savannah noticed how tense Tommy’s hand became in response, before he removed it and began picking up bloody cotton wool buds from the floor, dropping them into a bin. Just two weeks ago, Tommy could only have hoped for a moment of closeness like that, but a lot had happened in that short space of time, and he was finally ready to admit to himself that there was someone else he was developing much stronger feelings for.

‘Oh yeah,’ added Savannah, ‘where did you come up with $20,000 worth of pot so quickly?’

*

Ron admitted he wasn’t a man to express his emotions freely.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d cried; he’d fallen in love just once in his sixty-eight years, and the only thing that made him laugh were video clips of dogs doing silly things on YouTube. He couldn’t remember the last time something, or someone, had left him speechless.

So when Tommy walked into his office, placing $19,000 in $100 bills on his desk, his mouth dropped before he’d even realised.

‘Tell Peyk he needs to speed up production,’ was all Tommy said before leaving him to count the cash. And as he made his way up the stairs, Tommy decided neither Ron nor Nicole needed to know about the $1,000 he’d anonymously pushed under Matty and Declan’s door that afternoon.

‘Man, I really need this,’ said Tommy, taking a long drag from a joint.

              ‘I didn’t think you approved of my relaxation methods?’ asked Peyk.

‘I need to start lightening up a bit.’

‘No shit.’

Peyk was a little surprised when Tommy turned up at the door of room 23 asking for something to help him chill out after a stressful day. He rolled Tommy a spliff with just a little cannabis to get him used to the taste, and they sat on either side of the windowsill looking out of the only pane of glass not covered by a blind or cardboard. The condensation from the heat lamps meant the windows’ coverings needed replacing every couple of days or they’d turn to papier mâch
é
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