A Long Way Back (Unfinished Business #2) - Barbara Elsborg Page 0,103
stressed how careful I had to be. They did a TV drama about it. I’ve never seen it. It’s awful that people could find entertainment in the story.”
“I haven’t seen it.”
“Some online weirdoes found out every solitary thing they could about me and Wes, probably from our classmates. Every snippet of information was noted. They knew we’d end up getting new identities—well, not Wes—and promised we’d never be safe. We’d spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders because someone would be there to remind us of what we’d done.”
“The police allowed that?”
“The people that were doing it were on the Dark Web. But my new identity was supposed to keep me safe.”
“A bit like the Skripals.”
“The Russian father and daughter that were poisoned? Yeah. Hard to hide that you’re father and daughter and that you’re Russian. And their faces were all over the news.”
“They’re supposed to be in New Zealand.”
“I bet they’re not. Maybe they’re in Canada. I think New Zealand is just to put the Russians off their scent. They’re not hiding from people like Carter, or the ones who want me dead, but from the whole Russian intelligence machine. I hope they survive.”
Tay poured more wine and lifted his glass.
“To our new future.” Tay stared into Ink’s eyes.
Ink nodded and clinked his glass against Tay’s. Tay wished Ink had repeated the words.
Chapter Sixteen
INK CAME BACK INTO THE flat from the garden with Dog when Tay called him.
“The guys have gone,” Tay said.
Dog ran from room to room and whined.
“What’s the matter with him?” Tay asked.
“It looks weird with no furniture. Maybe he’s worried he’ll get left behind.” Ink picked Dog up and looked around. “Where’s your wheelchair?”
“I let them take it. I don’t need it. Not today. Are you feeling okay?”
“Better than yesterday.”
“I told the removal guys that if anyone asked where I was going, they were to say Cornwall and to tell me if anyone did ask.”
Ink sighed and nodded. He felt bad that he’d trawled Tay into his mess.
“Stop it,” Tay said. “If I didn’t want to help you, I’d have told you to fuck off. Not that you ever took any notice when I did say it.”
Ink laughed.
“There’s a black cab coming to get us in around ten minutes to take us to King’s Cross. Let’s wait in the entrance hall so we can get straight out to it.”
Ink faltered. “Do you think there’s someone out there?”
“I didn’t see anything suspicious when I looked, but better safe than sorry.”
Ink winced as he shouldered his backpack.
Tay tsked. “You should have packed it. And your guitar.”
“I need my things close to me.”
Tay stepped into Ink’s space and kissed him, just a brief brush of lips, but Ink’s pulse sped up.
“Am I a thing?” Tay asked.
Ink smiled. “Yeah. My most important thing.”
“That’s okay then.”
Tay put his laptop bag over his head, locked the flat, put the keys in an envelope and dropped it on the hall table. Ink pulled the front door slightly ajar and they waited. This should be easy, so why did Ink feel so anxious?
“We’ll buy food at King’s Cross to eat on the train. Okay?”
Ink nodded. He’d feel better when they were on their way out of London.
“I read there’s a trolley stuck in the wall with half a bird cage sitting on the top of the cases,” Tay said. “Maybe we’ll have time to look for platform nine and three quarters.”
“There’s a cab pulling up,” Ink said. “Keep your eyes open.”
“That usually stops me falling over.”
Ink smiled, though a surge of apprehension made him feel sick. It would only be a matter of time before Tay decided he’d had enough of his paranoia. But was his gut telling him trouble was outside the door, or just that there’d be trouble ahead? There was always trouble ahead.
He let Tay go first and gave him time to negotiate the steps, before he came out with Dog. The camera flash stunned Ink for too long a moment. More than one camera. Voices shouting. People coming towards him. Fuck. Adrenaline surged. He shoved Dog’s lead into a bewildered Tay’s hand and set off at a run across the gardens towards the high street. The pain was instant, his backpack banging his injuries through his jacket and T-shirt, and he pulled them round to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He needed to move as fast as he could. They’d follow and he had to lose them.