All The Lonely People - David Owen Page 0,74

door, and pulled his sleeves over his hands to push it open.

‘This is a shithole,’ said Tru.

Wesley swallowed a reflex defensive response, instead crossing to the lockbox. He found the right key and opened it up. ‘Too easy.’

He wouldn’t let his jangling nerves show, not with Jordan standing in the doorway. This whole thing had turned into a performance, and Wesley needed to stay in character.

‘You want something inconspicuous?’

‘That’s the idea,’ said Tru, but through the security glass he had spotted the silver BMW. ‘You got the keys for that?’

Wesley hesitated. ‘It’s not very subtle.’

‘Yeah, but I bet it’s fast.’ Tru turned from the window, greed in his eyes. He leaned into the lockbox and snatched the BMW key with his gloved hand. ‘You never know, we might need a quick getaway.’

‘All right, whatever,’ said Wesley, slamming the lock-box shut. He would do whatever it took.

Back outside, the alarm blipped as the doors whirred open. After that morning’s sale the BMW had clear access to the road. Tru purred admiringly as he sank into the plush driver’s seat. The engine started gently, belying its ferocity. Letting him take any of the cars was a betrayal, but letting him take this one was an insult.

Tru shut the door, slid down the electronic window and waved for Wesley to come closer. ‘You can’t tell anybody about this.’

‘I won’t.’

‘No, I mean you can’t. Anybody finds out about this – about any of this – you’re just as guilty as me. You understand?’

One threat replaced with another. He wanted to ask if he would see them again. If the door was still open for him. Maybe he would never step through it, but to know it remained an option would still be a huge relief.

‘Yeah, I understand,’ he said.

The revving engine was impossibly loud, tearing open the night as it reverberated across the industrial estate. Tru grinned, a child with a new toy, guiding the BMW out onto the road and away. Wesley thought of Kat as he watched it go.

At the top of the hill they found the remnants of a bonfire, not more than a few days old, blackened earth ringed off by charred beer cans. Kat took in a view she hadn’t seen since childhood. It was hardly spectacular: street lights tracing out the suburban sprawl that encircled the town centre, lights flashing on the cranes putting up blocks of flats nobody local would ever afford. This place had made her, but in the coming years it would likely change beyond recognition.

They sat a few feet back from where the bonfire had burned, both lifting their hands as if they could still feel its warmth.

‘Are you scared?’ asked Kat.

‘Terrified.’

‘You’re good at hiding it.’

‘That first time you inhabited someone, I thought that was it – you were gone for good and I was left here by myself.’ Safa chuckled coldly. She reached for the locket around her neck and twisted it, the doll opening into top and bottom. Another smaller doll, the same but painted in different colours, nested inside. ‘I’ve been selling you so hard on the fade so I don’t have to do it alone. If I can convince you, I can convince myself.’

The second doll opened too, revealing a miniature third inside. Safa fumbled to close them up, as if her fingers were numb, and then stood the dolls in a row in front of her.

Kat lifted her hands to let the lights of the town shine through them. ‘I don’t want to experience everything second-hand for the rest of my life,’ she said. ‘I am so fucking confused about all of this, but whether I love you, have a stupid crush on you, or I’m just so confused by actually having a friend that I’ve mistaken infatuation for something more, I know that kiss was real. I know the connection we have – me and you – is real.’

‘My dude, you’re such a romantic.’

‘You should stay here with me.’

Safa tilted her head towards her. ‘What if neither of us gets to stay?’

‘I’m going to save Tinker tomorrow,’ said Kat. ‘I think it’ll bring me back.’ What would it take to keep Safa here with her?

When the other girl took her hand it felt porous, as if their grips would pass through each other if they squeezed too hard. ‘Let’s just have tonight,’ said Safa.

They sat together, close enough to be overlapping, until the sun began to rise.

‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ said Jordan.

Wesley had to do it. For