I moved closer, forcing myself into his eyeline. ‘How come you’re not at work?’
He smirked and shrugged his shoulders. It was as though my presence both bored and entertained him.
‘Isn’t this your busiest time of day?’
Again he said nothing. Instead, he searched my face, as though looking for an answer or for a truth of some kind, and then, when that proved fruitless, he reached both of his hands up to my head. I thought he was going to pull me in for a kiss, but instead, he smoothed my hair back away from my face. Then he did it again and again, so hard I could feel my roots pulling on my skull. After a while, the repetition became enjoyable and I was just starting to relax when he darted his head forward, as if trying to scare me. I couldn’t help but flinch. He laughed and lunged again. This time he put his mouth to mine.
He tasted of cigarettes. As we kissed, the friction of his beard against my skin created a burning sensation. He seemed to be enjoying it but then he withdrew and pushed me away, back against the kitchen counter. Removing my jacket, he pulled down the sides of my dress, the soft jersey material coming away easily from my shoulders. He looked at me for less than a second and then moved on to my bra straps, slipping them off and down onto my arms. With two tugs, he freed each of my breasts and then, as if his time was up, he stopped and took a step back.
I stood there half-naked from the waist up, the flat’s central-heated air blowsy on my body. I wanted to cover myself, or to at least cross my arms over my chest, but I sensed that to do so would be to fail somehow.
Tommy stared at my breasts and I felt my nipples harden. He registered their change with a smile and then, without saying anything, he went back over to the kettle and began pouring the tea.
Smarting with a humiliation I didn’t quite understand, I pulled my bra straps and then my dress back up into place.
Tommy handed me a mug and came and stood alongside me.
‘OK then,’ he said, taking a sip.
‘OK,’ I repeated, not sure what had just happened.
‘You asked about Keith.’ A muscle twitched underneath his right eye. ‘I told you about his sister, Jenny. Seems her husband’s out of prison.’
‘Oh?’
Tommy eyed me carefully. It felt like he was trying to decide whether or not I could be trusted with the next piece of information.
‘We had the police round here the other day, asking questions.’ I studied the flickering muscle under his right eye. It was a tiny movement, barely noticeable. ‘We reckon her ex told them some lies about his and Jenny’s custody arrangement. Naturally we all kept our mouths shut.’
‘But Kimberley is still working in the caff?’
‘Why are you so interested in Keith and his family?’ He smirked. ‘A lesser man might get jealous.’
I considered telling him my suspicions about Mikey. Confessing that it was actually I who had called the police. But no. Keith’s reason for upping sticks was entirely plausible. It all made sense. The realisation left me both reassured and deflated.
He clicked his teeth.
‘Got any plans for tomorrow night?’ he asked, as though the last few minutes had never happened. Going over to the sash window next to the sink, he lifted his arms up high and rested his hands and forehead against the glass. ‘There’s a fireworks display in Ropner Park.’ He looked down at the street below. Keeping his hands on the window, he turned to look at me, his eyes slitted against the bright sun. ‘We could go together?’
Keith and the boy’s disappearance made sense but still, there was something about that kid, something I couldn’t let go. I had to be sure. Kimberley continued to work for Tommy. That meant he still had contact. He was the key.
I moved across the kitchen until I was stood directly in front of him. I reached my hands up to his shoulders and dipped my fingers into the scoop of his clavicle.
‘Sure,’ I said as soon as I saw the beginnings of a smile on his face. ‘I’ll be there.’
Chapter Forty
I floored it all the way back to the office, the cigarette flavour still on my tongue. I opened the window a crack and the space around me filled with motorway roar. Remembering the feel of the