Friday's Child (4 page)

“What time tonight?”

“Late. You need to be there. Just keep my name out of it.” He replaced the book and left.

Patrick stood still, continuing to flick through the book until he reached chapter seven. He slid the folded piece of paper into his sleeve. His mind whirled. Something big. But that could be anything. Another shipment in or out. Was it really connected to the Scottish case? He’d found no evidence to support that, despite DI Nemec’s insistence.

Either way, it was going to be a long night.

****

Eleanor squeezed through the gap in the tables and made her way over to the bar. She looked at Zeke. “It’s busy tonight.”

“Yes. Don’t leave after your set. There’s someone important coming to meet you. He should be here in the next half hour.”

“Who?” Immediately all her nerves went on edge. The last time Zeke had introduced her to ‘someone important’ it hadn’t gone so well.

“The owner of the club.”

“I thought Jake—”

Zeke shook his head. “This is the Big Boss. Owns every club you’ve sung in up and down the country. How do you think I find you work so easily? He’s followed your career with interest and wants to help you.”

She looked at him.

He leaned in and whispered. “You be nice to him, you hear me?”

Elle nodded, a knot of fear building in her stomach. She began her set, keeping an eye on the crowd. She spotted Patrick at the bar. Her heart began its familiar rhythm at the mere sight of him, but she ignored it. It was safer for both of them, if he stayed in her past.

Midway through
Ballad of Misty River
, a cold shudder ran through her. She was being watched. She knew there were dozens doing that in the audience, but this was different. She glanced to her left.

A tall man, dark curly hair, intense blue eyes leaned against the door marked private, his arms folded against his chest. White shirt glowed neon in the light, dark jacket undone, tie perfectly straight. A long jagged scar zigzagged down his cheek. Did she know him? His gaze indicated familiarity, but…

She finished the set and Zeke beckoned. She made her way over to the two men. Hopefully this wouldn’t take long. She was tired, and just wanted to go home and sleep.

Zeke, unusually for him, was on edge, his fingers trembling as they gripped her arm. “Eleanor, this is PJ. PJ, meet Eleanor Harrison or Lisa Bellamy.”

PJ’s hand was cold and the handshake too long. His frosty gaze ran over her. “Well, well. You really have grown into a beautiful woman, Eleanor.”

“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” She tried to pull her hand away, but he didn’t let go.

“You were very young, but I remember you. Come through to the office and we can talk about your new album, your career and how I can help you more than I have been already.”

What?
Alarm bells rang in the far recesses of her mind. “I’d rather talk here.”

“I said in the office.” Ice glinted in his eyes. “Jake said you’d object and said to remind you just who pays your wages.”

“The office it is.” She glanced at the clock. “I have thirty minutes before I need to be home.”

“A little old for a curfew, aren’t you?”

“It’s something that can’t wait.”

“Thirty minutes is more than enough time.” He held out a hand, a tattoo of some kind peeking out from his shirt sleeve.

She walked with him, feeling Patrick’s eyes on her as they headed through the door into the back of the club.

****

Patrick glanced down at the image on his phone. Similar but not the same, the hair color was different for a start. He shook his head as the phone rang. He left now and he might miss this chap leaving or something might happen to Elle. On the other hand, it was DI Nemec so he couldn’t just ignore it. As much as he hated people who reacted like this when he rang them, he only had one choice. He took the call. “Page. I can’t talk right now. I’ll call back later if that’s OK.”

He kept an eye on the doorway and waved over the bartender. “Another lime twist with ice, please.” He slid a tenner over the counter. “And one for yourself. So who’s the good looking dude that just went out back with Lisa?”

The bartender looked at him. “Someone from high up, out of town. He’s just come down to check up on a few things. He’ll be here for a while, then off again. Has a finger in many pies, if you get my drift. But he can’t keep away from this place. He seems to be the center of things.”

Patrick added a twenty to the ten already on the counter. “How so?”

The barman pocketed the money. “Looks can be deceiving. Helps he knows when the police are coming so the joint is clean if you get my drift.”

That turn of phrase was getting annoying. He slid another ten over. “I thought those things were meant to be unannounced.”

“The boss has contacts.”

“How often is he here?”

“The boss is always here. Jake never leaves.”

“No, this guy.”

“Depends how often Lisa sings, but he’s here a lot. At least once a week. He’s a law unto himself. Has more money than I’d make in a lifetime.” He leaned over as he pushed the drink across, picking up the money. “Rumor has it, he’s more than slightly interested in Lisa. I reckon that’s the last we’ve seen of her tonight.”

“Does this boss have a name?”

“Mr. F is all I know.”

Patrick took the drink. “Thank you.”

He sat nursing his drink until the club closed, but Elle didn’t come back out. Nor did Mr. F. He yawned. It was too late now to call DI Nemec, but he’d do so first thing in the morning. Time to go home and hit the hay, before the sun came up. He might just make it—once he’d written up his report.

****

“Come on, Eleanor, we’ll be late. Especially if you’re driving.” Her mother’s voice echoed up the stairs.

Eleanor finished brushing her hair and rose, pulling it into a tight ponytail. “I’m coming.” She grabbed her bag and keys and left the sanctity of her bedroom. Going to church had to be one of her least favorite activities. This was funny considering how much she used to love going. At one point, the weekend couldn’t come quick enough. Even at university. She and Patrick would go twice every week.

She shook her head. There was nothing in church for her now, despite her automatic prayers. Her mother insisted she attend for two reasons. Firstly, ‘if you live under my roof you abide by my rules’. Secondly, to ram home what she was no longer entitled to. Forgiveness. Salvation. Love.

Abbie smiled at her as she reached the hallway. “Mum says I can sit in the front with you today.”

Eleanor took in Abbie’s newly cut hair in dismay. It looked so much better longer. Why couldn’t her mother just leave things alone for once? “So long as you do up your seatbelt.”

“Of course.” She skipped outside and stood by the car.

Eleanor looked at her mother, taking in the scowl at her black trousers and close fitting shirt. “I don’t have time to change. Unless you want to be late.”

The scowl deepened and her mother sighed before heading to the car. Eleanor closed her eyes for a moment, then followed them, locking the door. If only she hadn’t fallen from grace, but then she’d be without Abbie.

****

Patrick slid into his normal pew just as the service started. He hadn’t expected to get here at all, as he hadn’t even left the office until four in the morning. He’d gone straight there from the club to write up his notes. He’d say he was conscientious, rather than anything else. His family on the other hand, would tell him to go get a life.

DI Nemec’s phone had gone straight to voicemail. So deciding the bloke must be in church, Patrick decided to do the same thing.

His soon to be sister-in-law, Jacqui, shot him a sly grin and moved slightly before he sat on her coat.

“You’re late,” she whispered.

“You’re lucky I’m here at all.” He grinned as he whispered a reply, kissing her cheek. He reached over her to shake his brother’s firm hand. “Hey, Liam.”

Liam smiled and grabbed his hymn book as the first song was announced. Patrick followed suit, then decided to follow on the overhead screen instead. He stood as the music started, and slid his hands into his pockets. He started singing, then his eyes spun right, his soul captivated by a very familiar voice.

Elle stood in the pew in front, three people along. Having not seen her in fourteen years, he was suddenly finding her all over the place.
Why haven’t I noticed her here before?

Because I’m never here.
He answered his own question and kept singing, forcing his eyes back to the screen, half wishing now he’d picked up the hymn book so he didn’t have her in his field of vision.

As the children left, he caught her eye and shot her a smile. A stab of disappointment filled him as a weak smile met him in return. He looked away and reached for his Bible to follow the reading.
There’s your answer, Patrick. She wants nothing to do with you. So ignore her and concentrate on the Lord. That is why you’re here.

His mind refused to co-operate. It rehashed that last weekend over and over. Patrick took a deep breath.
Fine,
he told himself firmly.
Then pray for her. That way you’re not leaving God out of this. And Satan is not winning this battle. He’s putting thoughts of Elle in my head to distract me from the service and my reason for being here, so I’ll turn them back to the Lord in prayer.

After the service finished, he sat for a moment. What did he do? Leave or say hello? Deciding it’d be rude just to ignore her, he slid into the pew next to them. “Hello again,” he said, holding out a hand.

Elle looked at him and took his hand. Her skin was cold against his and she shook his hand lightly. Her smile was forced and she looked uncomfortable. “Hello. How are you?”

Patrick smiled, hoping the warmth of his greeting would help ease her. “I’m good. How are you?”

“Fine.” Elle shifted slightly at the ragged cough from the severe, grey-haired lady. “This is my mother, Jeanette Harrison. This is Patrick Page. We were at university together for a while.”

Patrick extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Harrison.” He took in the hostile stare and the limp grip which was dropped as soon as possible.

“Were you in the same year?” Mrs. Harrison’s voice was just as cold.

“No, I was two years ahead, doing my post graduate course. I was Elle’s mentor.”

“Ellie, look what I got. Charlotte gave it to me for my birthday.”

Patrick turned to see a girl, possibly in her early teens run over, holding out a book. A beaming smile lit her face, making her blue eyes sparkle. This must be the little sister.

Elle took the book. “Wow, very nice. How’d you swing that one, squirt? It’s not your birthday for a while yet.”

The child grinned, tossing her short blonde curls from her face. “Did I say birthday? I meant my unbirthday.”

Elle laughed. “You are terrible. Patrick, this is my sister, Abbie. Abbie, this is Patrick.”

“Hello. I’ve seen you here before.” Abbie, unlike the other two women in her family, gave him a wide grin.

Patrick smiled. “I’m here most weeks when I don’t have to work.”

“Ellie works a lot too. Mum, Charlotte’s asked me to her house for dinner. Can I go?”

Mrs. Harrison nodded. “As long as it’s all right with her parents.”

“Cool. Bye, love you.” Abbie ran off, beaming.

Elle watched her go and shot her mother a look that Patrick couldn’t make sense of. Before he could say anything more, Jeanette stood.

“Eleanor, we should go.” She nodded to Patrick. “Goodbye, Mr. Page.”

Elle nodded and stood. “Bye.”

“Goodbye.” Patrick stood to let them pass. He sat down again, suddenly bereft. He didn’t understand what just happened. The conversation had been as icy as it was brief. He glanced up as a hand fell on his shoulder. “Hey, bro.”

Liam was staring him down. “Mum says to come for lunch. Don’t think it’s an option.”

“Lunch sounds good, Li.” He got to his feet.

“Who was that woman? She looks familiar.”

“She works in the library.” He wasn’t about to give away her other identity.

Liam held his gaze. “Are you sure you’re OK? You seem really distracted. You have been ever since you got here.”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar. And in church, too. Sit down and talk to me. We’ve got a couple of minutes.”

Patrick took a deep breath, sitting heavily. “Her name’s Elle. She’s someone from my past. From way back in my uni days, that’s all.”

Liam sat next to him. “Sounds intriguing. Old girlfriend?”

“Way more than that, Li.” Patrick spoke quietly, aware of the fact he and Liam were in church. Back then, he’d been a different person and acted in ways he wouldn’t dream of today. His faith was nowhere near as strong then as it was now. “Elle and I, we, uh, we were close.” Irritation rose at Liam’s scrutiny, and he cringed, annoyed for letting his emotions control him.

“How close?”

“Let’s just say I
knew
her. But then she vanished, and I haven’t seen her since.” He glanced up into his brother’s stunned face. “Shocked you, haven’t I?”

Liam struggled to find the words. Being an English teacher he always had a plethora of them at his disposal, most of which Patrick had had thrown back at him over the years. “I just never imagined you of all people—”

“Yeah, well. No one’s perfect. And I’m sure you’ve done stuff you’re not proud of, too.” Patrick cleared his throat. “It’s in the past.”

“Uh huh. Your reaction says otherwise.”

“Trust me, it’s over. She’s as cold as ice toward me now.”

“And how do you feel?” His firm gaze gave Patrick nowhere to hide.

“That’s irrelevant.” Yet his mind drifted back to the cramped student library and the table
crammed with textbooks.

Patrick finished explaining the passage that’d had Elle stumped for weeks. He grinned as the figurative light bulb suddenly flashed on over her head and the joy of understanding shone in her eyes. “You got it?”