Breakdown (33 page)

I looked towards the door, to how it had closed ages ago. As I did, Trace eased back, checking his watch. “Oh look at that, I’m distracted,” he said, flicking a look at me. “Any decent carjacker would have stolen my car by now.”

I frowned.

“Okay.” Trace rolled his eyes. “You need me to close my eyes, maybe turn my back, peaches? Make it more real for you? You only get your kick like that, right? A real scene with real players?”

“You heard about the car thefts too?”

Trace winked. “You still here? Gray won’t be for much longer.”

I looked away with a hard sigh. “I’ve hurt him, Trace, not just with this, but Martin. Martin’s—”

Trace came over and grabbed the back of my neck before kissing at my head. “Let it go, Jack. There’s a time and a place for the bad. You’ve been there. Now you need to start allowing yourself to live the good too. Pick one good moment and hold on to it, kid. Otherwise you’ll lose the rest and live life fighting a battle you can’t win. Loss and damage, between yours and mine, we’ve all taken enough loss and damage to last a millennia. Look for the good. Look for what and who matters.”

The door caught my attention, but as I went to move, Trace caught my arm.

“You make damn sure you look after Jan. He’s not looking too good.” His eyes were hard. “He’s been on his own and taking care of your shit, dealing with your shit, and his, and Gray’s, and your father’s. He needs healing, he needs holding.”

“For as long as possible,” I mumbled. The door took my attention again, then I eased into a smile as I looked back at Trace. “You’ve still got a girl’s fucking name, y’know that, right?”

“So says the kid who never fuckin’ grows up, eh, Jack the lad?”

I winked, then headed for the door as I pulled out the two things that Jan had given me. The photo I recognised, and the broken black rope necklace from the fight in the alley with Gray? It sat there in my hand as I smiled down at it. “Long walk back to America, Trace. Me jacking your car and all.”

“Friends in high places, Jack,” I heard called after me. “You just remember that... especially if you call me a girl again.”

I headed out of the flat and into Trace’s Ford Escort.

Half an hour later, I’d pulled the Ford Escort to a stop off the path outside of Gray’s north wall. The whole thing ran the perimeter and stood roughly fourteen foot high. CCTV kept it company, but if Trace was right, then things would be being shut down, security not as tight. Didn’t really make much difference: I’d gotten in and out under the noses of Ray’s security over the years, probably for the first time now feeling a little guilty over the bollocking they must have been given the last time I did this.

Making sure the Ford was as close to the wall as possible, I climbed on the roof, then found familiar grooves in the wall that helped me hitch up over the rest. Landing was hard, and I winced, dancing around, nursing an ankle, and more than swearing about old age being a bastard.

In the growing darkness, it took an hour to go through the woods, another fifteen to cross the green that would take me to the back of the manor, then another five waiting for Ed to head on back into the manor after directing some removal men in through the staff entrance.

Ed, Christ. Wasn’t he dead yet? He’d been with Gray longer than I had and it pissed me off that I hadn’t been able to get the old fuck fired yet. He was too damn old for a butler’s position and too goddamn sneaky and one prize grasser when it came to me and Gray.

Kicking off some mud, really fucking hating that I couldn’t wind Ed up with tracing mud through the joint, I headed on over, cautious of the van and just who might be around. None of Gray’s security was on duty, or maybe they were just at the new premises, watching things from that end. Ray always acted more like manager than security anyway, which left me questioning just what the hell Ed did all day. Voices drifted on through from inside, Ed’s mostly, just quietly directing again, but before I went to head on in, something on the back of the removal van caught my eye.

“No fucking way,” I mumbled.

Ed hated technology almost as much as I did, and sitting there, all placed neatly among the row of arranged boxes, was a small rectangular one. After all these years, the old fuck had even kept the box to his CD player. This system was pretty special, to me anyway, and I reached in and pulled it down. No dust inside the box, everything always kept so fucking clean. Opening it up, the player inside belonged back in the nineties. It had the lot: twin tape deck, round knobs that were big enough to search for alien life, and speakers. Big massive ones that had belted out the classical shit he’d forced me to listen to as a teen. Didn’t mind it so much nowadays.

I looked back towards the side of the building, where the maze lay. Fucking hated how old I was getting. But if this place was going to be sold, I needed one last look around.

Giving a smile down at the stereo, forever the thief, even if it was just stealing memories tonight, this was coming with me too. Ed wouldn’t miss it anyway. He hadn’t noticed I’d borrowed it the first time.

I looked back towards the maze.

Christ, I’d just turned twenty. The Tag had been off a year, disorders had started to order themselves, and that night in particular, I’d made a right pratt of myself.

Jack. Age 20

I’d have liked to try and see Ed grass me up for this and explain to Gray what I’d pinched. Gray would just give him that goddamn cock-teasing raised brow of his, hearing Ed’s whispers that I’d pinched Ed’s stereo. Hadn’t pilfered anything for nearly two years now, nowadays I just, well, tidied up a few things after people. Hell, OCD: I’d got such a virtuous nature lately. I could work the tag; it didn’t own me.

But the half a pound of cheese I’d also... tidied up under my jumper? Well, that would probably get me sectioned and was something I’d probably not mention even to Steve, not without risking being prodded and laughed at. But Christ, I’d still knee-cap a few people to see that look on Gray’s face as Ed tried to explain it. Even Gray knew I couldn’t stand fucking cheese, so if anyone asked, I’d put this shit down to mice, big friggin’ mice that could chew through Ed’s chains and padlocks, those big ones he’d stuck around the fridge lately just to stop me from raiding it.

This shit was Gray’s fault anyway. Tonight of all nights, he’d filled his mansion with aristocrat asses, all walking stiffs like they were still stuffed to brimming with sounding rods, hands holding cigars, some brandy, but all accompanied with the string quartet off the fucking Titanic. Friday night. I didn’t do social, but even I was ready for jumping overboard to save youth the agony of hanging on and dying with the wrinkled and fucked-up goings on in there. No matter which room I went in, people would shuffle through like sheep given a new pen to fill. I’d shuffle a few feet in the opposite direction, they’d follow, I’d growl, and they’d still fucking move in closer. Class or trash, Gray or Cutter, they all seemed to come with people, lots of people that still wouldn’t take the hint to get lost.

So cheese it was, that and also a gorgeous summer’s night I’d usually spend outside, a portable CD player, Gray’s maze, and a bottle of pilfered champagne. Oh yeah, and champagne. That had just begged for a... tidying up too. Tonight’s only saving grace would be Ed’s face when he found his favourite had gone missing. Sweet.

The maze was just off to the left of Gray’s pool. I’d walked through it a few times in daylight, really chuffed it had only taken me four times to find the middle. Yeah, not the most observant person, me. Besides, I was convinced Gray kept shifting the huge hedges just for pissing about sake. Or maybe Ed. Yeah, my money was on the butler. Hell, it worked for Cluedo.

Hence the cheese; no fucking way was I getting lost tonight.

Wearing no shoes, just socks, still not quite daring enough to feel grass underfoot with the dust found in even Gray’s spotless grounds, I made my way through the mass of carefully cropped hedgerows, dropping cheese as I went, and finally managing to breathe now the Manor’s music started to fade. The outer maze was lit for effect, all weird soft bulbs strung on delicate wiring to create ambience. Whatever greased the silver spoon, I suppose. Still, it gave me enough light to see where I was going.

Two missed turns, I finally reached the centre and set the CD player on the bench, threw the rest of the cheese, and pulled the bottle of champagne and a glass from my jacket.

“Anyone asks,” I said to the bottle as I struggled with the cork, “you slipped in my pocket, okay?” A pop, the cork flew off into the bushes somewhere, and I spent a few seconds hunting it out and binning it before the glass was soon filled. I downed it in one. “Christ.” I nearly choked and threw up on the bitterness. It tasted worse than come. “Beer.” I wiped my mouth. “Why is it Ed never just buys decent bloody beer?”

Leaving the champagne on the floor, I set the CD to play and took off my jacket. I’d reached a compromise with Gray, trousers and matching jacket were his choice for me tonight, black sleeveless T-shirt was mine. So I hadn’t exactly told him about my choice, but he’d have to catch my ass in it first, which would actually require him wanting my ass, which (again) would be a fucking first. I kicked at a stone and ignored just how much that pissed me off. I mean, he wouldn’t keep letting me come here, stay every couple of nights, if he wasn’t interested in my ass, right? Or maybe just because the tag had come off, it just meant that he didn’t trust me enough when it came to street walking.

Music filtered into the square from the CD player and I started on a run of katas. Gray had got me up to my second Dan, but the third? It was getting fucking hard. Champagne didn’t help in any way, and I gave up on my kata halfway through, just content with a bit of dancing. I hadn’t danced since Cutter, and that had been every inch the wrong kind of one on one. Work at my old man’s garage had kept me busy, enough that I managed one of his units, much to his manager Paul’s disgust. Especially since I’d shifted Steve up to my acting manager too. He’d needed the money. Steve always needed the money.

Besides. I stopped for a minute. Cutter was better off left as distant as the blackness up there. The night sky was full of stars, as untouchable as Gray, and every now and again there’d be this gentle sweep of reds, greens, and blues as the lights from the pool changed the tint on the black backdrop. Most lads my age would kill for a party setting like this. Me, I’d just kill for the setting. Music, darkness, just the freedom to move and breathe without bodies, without people, without life.

No whispers, no Humpty—

“Hello, Jack.”

I hadn’t known I wasn’t exactly alone until I heard the soft voice and looked back over my shoulder, back to the opening of the maze.

Roughly the same age as Gray, not as ball-teasing on looks, but certainly that same appeal with his quiet distance, a man stood leaning against the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe lamppost. Just watching. All he needed was a flute to go with the shine in his eyes and he was ready to lead the innocent astray.

Good job I was well past the innocent part, and leading... I preferred to fucking lead, me.

Feeling a little on edge now with the man’s steady gaze, I frowned and went and turned the music down.

“Apologies.” The man came over and offered me his hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” I didn’t take the offering, and the man nodded, seeming to understand without me saying anything. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

“I’m supposed to know you?” I didn’t make that particularly friendly and it pissed me off how he didn’t seem bothered. The man went to speak, but a rustle of leaf made us both look back towards the only exit.

Gray, his look on the man, was leaning against the huge hedge, one hand all casual in his trouser pocket. He wore a grey suit, some fancy name my wages would never see, yet, at that moment, I’d have begged to earn a wage high enough just to keep watching that suit sculpt his body like that. Business and class, yet casual. Fuck, could I do casual for the rest of my life.

He came into the clearing, and Christ knows what passed through their gazes, but the older man turned back to Gray and, putting a brief hand on Gray’s shoulder as he stopped by him, he whispered something in his ear before heading out.

“You move beautifully, Jack,” said the man, not turning around as I went over to Gray and peered around the corner.

“Weird fucking wildlife you leave wandering in here,” I said, finally looking at Gray, but he’d moved over to my CD player and flicked it off.

“Maybe it’s the cheese.” Blue eyes levelled on mine and they played such a wicked tune, one I wanted to carry on dancing to if only he’d give the nod. “You not read Hansel and Gretel?” He was looking at the trail of cheese.

“That a new Land Rover model?”

Gray chuckled. “Stop playing dumb, Jack. You do know Ed’s dog has eaten half the cheese already?”

I sniffed, then shrugged. “I’d have found a way out. Eventually.”

“Hmmm,” said Gray, that brow of his forcing me to focus on anything but him for fear of taking his feet from underneath him and kissing him on the floor. “No stolen cars out here to knock a crow’s path, Jack.”