Bang: Memoirs of a Relationship Assassin (34 page)

“What’s wrong?” called Becky.

“Uh… nothing.” I walked in, rubbing my chin with one hand, pocketing my beard with the other. “Electrician’s still busy, might be a while.”

I wanted to suggest that this wasn’t a good time and maybe Becky could come back tomorrow, but then she handed me a mug of tea. She was perched up on my kitchen worksurface, her usual spot, sipping her own mug. Not going anywhere.

“John. Listen. I want you to tell me the truth now.”

“…Okay.” I drank some tea, tasting weird with the champagne.

“I know something’s… well, you’ve not been right for a while. I mean, recently, you’ve not been yourself.”

I almost laughed, biting it back. Felt like I might not be able to stop if I started.

“And then that other thing Darren said… the thing about you doing it for money.”

A brick splashed into my stomach. I barely had time to think before Becky rattled on. “I mean, I don’t know, maybe Darren was just angry and making up stuff, but I can’t stop thinking there’s might be more to your life than you’ve told me, and to be honest I always kind of thought it was weird you just being a courier, I mean you’re such a bloody handsome bloke, you could be a model or something, so I started wondering if it was true and if you… you know… if you’ve ever made money by…”

“…Sleeping with women?”

Becky nodded, lips pressed together.

I rubbed my face again, as if trying to work out whose it was. If it was John’s face, I needed to laugh this off. Make a joke about being a part-time gigolo, I’m your private dancer, I dance-a for money, do what you want me to do. Or perhaps a half-truth: admit that I used to shag rich women when I was younger to make cash, a dirty secret, but at least one she might forgive John for…

My mobile rang in my back pocket. I pulled it out – sending my goatee spiralling to the floor –
holy shit!
– bent down and snatched it up, shielding it from Becky with my body – answered the phone without thinking.

Emma’s voice: “Scott, I’m just coming out your tube station. Give me an update.”

“Um… yeah, it’s all fine. Everything’s fine.”

“You don’t sound fine. Is Megan still there? Have you had any luck?”

“Not much, no – ”

“John, for God’s sake,” said Becky, “whoever that is, can’t they wait?”

“Who the fuck’s that!”
snapped Emma. “That wasn’t Megan! And who’s ‘John’? Is that meant to be you?”

“Um, look, I have to go – ”

“Don’t tell me you’ve got your
girlfriend
there!”

“Talk to you later – ”

“Scott, you stupid bastard, she could ruin everything!”

I ended the call. Turned my mobile off. Becky slid down off the worksurface. “Who was that?”

“No one. Just a friend, somebody I work with. Sorry.”

She looked at me. Flat and cold.

“I thought I knew you,” she said slowly, stepping forward. “But I don’t, do I? You’ve got secrets.”

I actually backed away. Like she was getting too close.

“First that book I found that you went crazy over, then Darren, and now this. I’m not stupid, John. I know there’s something wrong. Something’s seriously wrong with you.”

Far too close.

She stepped forward again, staring at me, as if inspecting a stranger.

“Who are you?”

“SE-CRET A-GENT!”

“Wha - ?”

Blam blam blam blam! Dum-da-da-daahhhmmmmm!

We both spun towards the living room, from which came a familiar blare of gunfire and music. My pinball machine, starting up by itself!

I span back to Becky. “Uh – guess the electrician’s testing his work – back in a sec! Stay there!”

Ignoring her confusion, I sprang out of the kitchen, heart pounding, slapping the goatee back onto my face and entering the living room again. There was Megan, standing in front of Secret Agent, smiling a big smile as she played pinball. She threw a look my way. “This is brilliant!”

I quickly slammed the door behind me, hoping that her voice hadn’t carried. Okay, big smile, like this was all fine. “Having fun?”

“Yeah!” She slammed the flipper buttons, eyes tracking the ball as it rebounded this way and that to the sounds of gunshots, explosions, the ‘arghs’ of henchmen being gunned down and other spy movie noises. “I haven’t played pinball for years! They used to have these in a little arcade in Stornoway when I was a kid. I can’t believe you’ve got this, Jason!”

She sounded happy. That was more like it – Megan was getting back that feeling of being free from her TV star lifestyle. Plus the champers was obviously kicking in.

I remembered that there were cameras running in this room. I threw a glance at the fake chandelier, hello! So now I had evidence of Megan enjoying herself playing pinball, but somehow I couldn’t see that image leaping out from the newsstands. I had to get more. And I had to move fast!

I walked closer to Megan. She was really getting into the game now, squealing when she lost a ball, firing a new one into play. She leaned forwards over the table to follow it closely, fingers punching the flipper buttons. I stood behind her small, curved body, so that her head was framed by the target sight motif up on the backglass.

It was probably just because she was getting into the game… or it might have been her glimpsing my reflection in the glass… but Megan’s body arched a little, pushing her bottom out towards me. Tight jeans. Almost like an invitation. Or a warning. Red or green light?

I took a step forwards, pointing over her shoulder. “Try to get the ball into the piranha pit up there, it’s a triple bonus.”

“Which one’s that?” She leaned forwards, peering at the machine, body arched even more.

I swallowed dryly. Another step forwards, an inch away from pressing up against her. “Just there…”

My doorbell chimed – I jumped about twelve feet in the air. Megan refused to stop playing, a big half-drunk smile on her face. “Oh thank God, rescued at last!” she laughed.

“Uh – might be the plumber’s mate – back in a sec! Stay there!” I jogged out of the room and along the hall to the front door.

Jane Shields, client liaison officer from Global Investigations, stood there in her power suit and said “You complete and total amateur.”

“Emma, look, I… just give me some time, I can still – ”

“I knew this would happen, I just
knew
it!” She shook her head. “What on earth made me think you might pull this off?”

“I can do this!” I insisted. “I can still do this! Megan’s in there, she’s having fun, she’s loosening up, I can make this work, I swear! Just give me more time!”

“Where’s your ‘girlfriend’, then? She’s got to go. Right now.” Emma stepped forward, fingers flexing. “If she ruins this – ”

I blocked her. She bounced off my body, startled.

“If you hurt Becky,” John said quietly, “I’ll kill you.”

Emma stared at me, caught off guard. “Scott, listen to me. If she sees Megan, it’s all over. The mission’s ruined. If you’ve still got a chance, fine, go for it, but don’t take any stupid risks. Your girlfriend can’t stay here, she has to leave!”

I nodded. “All right. But you don’t lay a finger on her. I’ll do it.”

“Then do it!” Emma urged. “Quickly! Run!”

I turned and sprinted back into my flat. Emma in the doorway. Megan in the living room. Becky in the kitchen. Had to get her out of here, now!

“Becky!” I said, entering the kitchen. “Look, I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to ask you to go. We can talk properly later, but I really have to sort some stuff out with the electrician and if I don’t do it today…”

Becky’s mouth hung open. Staring at me.

“…What?”

She pointed at my face.

“What?”

“John… you’ve just grown a beard!”

My hand flew to my chin. I felt the goatee. The goatee I’d forgotten to take off.

I was wearing the wrong mask
.

Becky laughed a little, but her eyes were nervous. “You’ve only been gone two minutes! How did you… what’s going on? Is that fake?”

I panicked. Ripped the goatee away from my face hard. “OW!” Suddenly I was short of breath. “Becky, Becky you have to, you have to go, just…“

“John?” Now she sounded scared. “What’s going on? If this is a joke then just tell me, okay, I don’t – ”

“Jason?” called Megan as she strolled into the kitchen. “D’you think the plumber will mind if I just use your loo? All that champagne’s gone right…”

She stopped, seeing Becky.

For a long moment, the two women stared at each other.

“You’re
the plumber?!” said Megan.

“You’re
the electrician?!” said Becky.

You’re fucked, I thought.

Megan threw me a look that said:
Why is there a pretty girl in your kitchen instead of some hairy-arsed workman in overalls?
She then did a double-take, staring at my suddenly naked face. “Where’s your…” She mimed a goatee.

I held it up for her to see.

For a few seconds, we all stared at the loop of hair hanging limply from my fingers.

“You’re Megan MacLeod!” said Becky suddenly. “So that
was
you! I wasn’t sure at first, but… it was you after all!”

Megan looked even more confused. “What’s she doing here? Oh – is she one of your people? Is this part of the test?”

My jaw worked silently. Was that my way out? Could I get away with claiming Becky was a fellow Global Investigations operative, and she was here to –

“I’m his
girlfriend!”
said Becky firmly. “What are
you
doing here?”

I jumped at the sound of rapid, machine-gun clicking along the hallway floorboards. Emma strode into my kitchen.
Oh God, not her as well!

Megan looked relieved. “Jane, can you tell me what’s happening?”

“All under control, Ms MacLeod,” she said. “If you’d like to come with me please – Becky, isn’t it? I’ll explain everything outside.”

Becky quivered like she’d brushed against an electric fence.

“You,”
she whispered.

“Quick as you can, please,” said Emma, taking her arm, “we don’t have much – ”

Becky punched her in the face.

Nobody saw it coming – a blur of fist and Emma went down, slamming onto the floor. Megan and I jumped back in shock.

Emma sprang back up like a wildcat, and my blood ran cold at the look on her face – shit, I suddenly remembered, this girl’s lethal! Without thinking, I grabbed her from behind and pulled her away, just as she lashed out some kind of karate chop that might have put Becky in hospital.

“I’ll fucking kill you for that!” screeched Emma.

“Come on then, you bitch!” yelled Becky. “Come on!”

I shouted for Emma to stop as she struggled, both my arms around her, using all my strength to wrench her away as she bellowed for me to let go of her, Becky shouting for her to come on and try it, Emma swearing to God that she was going to break her neck, Megan standing to one side like she was watching a car crash.

“Stop it!” I managed to pull Emma to one side and stepped between her and Becky, my arms held out. “Enough! Just stop!”

Emma’s perfect white teeth were bared, hair hanging loose on one side as she assumed a martial arts stance. Becky’s eyes were enormous, nostrils flaring, knuckles white. Megan doing a Wimbledon back and forth between them, scared, out of her depth.

Me in the middle.

All three women suddenly looked at me. And that was when I felt something give.

You know when your legs just buckle under you for no reason, like you forgot how to walk? It was like that, but in my skull. Something went. My arms flopped to my side. Something I didn’t even know was there just gave out.

TILT.

Game over.

“Jason,” began Megan nervously, “I don’t know what this is all about, but I want you to – ”

“That’s not my name,” I said.

Megan looked at Jason King’s goatee on the floor, like it was a dead thing, then back up at me. Uncomprehending.

“Why is she calling you ‘Jason’?” demanded Becky. “Jesus, John, don’t tell me you’re – ”

“That’s not my name.”

Becky stared at me, mouth open.

“Christ, I don’t believe this,” sighed Emma, rubbing her face. “You’ve really screwed this up, haven’t you? Just get rid of them, Scott, it’s all over – ”

“THAT’S NOT MY NAME!”

Emma recoiled, as if from another punch.

Three pairs of eyes. Searching for the man that each of them knew. Failing.

No Jason. No John. And no Scott.

It was Megan who cracked first. Shaking her head, that famous red hair, she turned and ran from the kitchen. I heard her go into the living room to grab her shoes, and felt the impulse to go after her. In my head I saw Jason King rushing after the TV star and explaining it was all a mistake, trying to calm his client down, tell her that he had everything under control. I saw Andy Holloway grab her arm and push her onto the sofa, knowing the bitch loved being shown who was boss, they all did. I saw Simon Templar pulling her close to him for a showstopper kiss like in the movies, a sudden burst of passion to make the lady realise she could never leave this man.

My body twitched, but didn’t move. The front door slammed, rattling my kitchen windows. Just like they used to rattle in our old council flat every time Mum left.

And just like that, Megan MacLeod was gone, and the mission was over, and that was the end of it.

“What’s going on?” Becky turned to Emma. “And how come
you’re
mixed up in all this? Are you both just playing with my life or something?”

“I don’t know who the hell you are!” snapped Emma. She put a hand to her face. “Or why you punched me!”

“You don’t know? You don’t know who I am? You sleep with my fiancé and you don’t know who I am?”

“What are you talking about? I haven’t slept with anyone’s…” But then the penny, and Emma’s face, dropped. “Oh. Are you… oh.”

“Don’t you remember his name either? It’s Sajjan! Remember now? The guy you picked up at his college, and had all those coffees with, and shagged on his sofa? I’ve seen it! I’ve seen all the pictures, I’ve seen
you!”