in my head. Now, as the lift climbed to the third floor, I continued to pick over the debris. He’d said that he’d lied to protect me, to ensure I wasn’t implicated. But the more I thought about it, the more I doubted whether this was actually the case. His priority had been to protect Vicky, to protect himself.
The doors dinged open and I tried to focus on the task at hand. Right now I had to deal with Tommy, to find a way of despatching him quickly and cleanly from my life.
Out of the lift, I counted my way down the corridor to his room, knocked and stood back to wait. The air smelt of mould and stale cigarette smoke.
There were footsteps. I heard the sound of the metal spy-hole cover on the other side of the door being slid open and made sure to stare, unsmiling, into the glass fish-eye. I wasn’t entirely sure why he’d asked me to meet him at a hotel and not his flat, but I suspected it was because he thought it more likely that it would lead to some kind of tryst. I crossed my arms. From the outset I needed him to know how things stood. Nothing was going to happen.
A minute or so passed and then finally the door opened a sliver and Tommy peered out. Without saying a word, he leant his head forward and scanned the corridor, like he was looking for somebody. Satisfied I was alone, he ushered me inside.
We stood facing each other in the long passage that led into what seemed to be the bedroom. To my left was a door, presumably the bathroom, and to my right was a fitted wardrobe. The wardrobe wasn’t shut properly and as I followed the line of the middle door to the floor, I saw that there were two large holdalls stashed in there, one on top of the other. Resting on top of the holdalls were two picture frames. I’d seen one of them before, in Tommy’s flat. A small bleached-out snap framed in silver, it showed Tommy and his brother and sister as kids, their arms wrapped around each other. The second picture was in shadow and more difficult to make out.
I realised Tommy was smiling shyly.
‘What’s so amusing?’
He shrugged, his smile goofing into a wide grin.
I needed to stay calm, but I felt like he was goading me.
‘OK, funny man,’ I said. ‘How about this for a joke? What the fuck were you thinking, coming to my house? Why did you think it was OK to follow me?’
‘Heidi.’ He shook his head as though I’d disappointed him. ‘You don’t mean that.’
This exchange felt like the one we’d had the other day. It was as though we were having a conversation about two very different things, as though he was alluding to something he thought I should know all about but didn’t.
‘I don’t like being blackmailed,’ I said, determined not to let his weirdness throw me off course. ‘Don’t come to my house again.’
‘Or what? You’ll tell your husband?’ He nudged me gently with his elbow. He seemed to think we were enjoying some shared joke. ‘You won’t tell him, same way he won’t tell you.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, sick of these insinuations that made no sense.
Silence.
‘Look,’ I said, softening my tone. ‘You’re a nice guy, but what happened between us, it didn’t mean anything. I’m sorry if I led you on.’
For a brief moment his grin disappeared. I’d hurt his feelings. He stopped to consider the veracity of my words. A beat, and then he shook his head, my protest dismissed, and the smile returned, wider than before.
‘What is it you want?’ I asked, unable to stop myself from escalating into a shout. ‘Why have you brought me here?’
Tired of his games, I took a step back and was about to leave when something in the wardrobe caught my eye. It was the light, catching on the silver framed snap of Tommy and his siblings. I stopped. From this spot I was granted a full view of the second frame lying next to it.
The air seemed to tighten and flex.
I had seen it once before: in the room at the back of the off-licence. Looking down through the tiny window, that day I’d only been able to make out that it was a shot of a larger man, the boy and another adult on some kind of a fishing boat. Now, up close,