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‘You’ll only bring yourself down with me. You’re not exactly clean, are you?’

‘Think about it, Martin. Me, the most I’d get is a few years for fraud. What’s the going rate for murder?’

Caldwell
swallowed hard. ‘You don’t have proof.’

‘Want to risk that? Look, be sensible, you’ve a lot more to lose than me. Nice wife, nice house, nice car, cushy new job in the country. Do you really want to risk all that?’

Caldwell
slammed the phone down and stared hard and unforgiving at it. He sank down into his office chair, shaking, seeing his world unravel before him and unable to do anything about it.

He’d watched out for her every evening but she’d not turned up. He’d go down to the auditorium and check out the back row but always he’d climb the stairs to the projection booth bitterly disappointed.

Vince had expected this evening to be exactly the same. He’d left the projector running and descended from the booth with little hope in his heart. The cinema was only half-full tonight. Martin Caldwell, even more on edge than usual, had commented upon it, saying that they really had to get more people inside or the place would sink into its own shit. It’s only a weekday, explained Vince in order to try and buoy the man up; Wednesday, half-day closing in Langbridge. Nobody ever did anything on Wednesday afternoons. It was like having half a Sunday in the middle of the week. But that failed to appease Caldwell who did what he usually did and hid away from sight in his office.

Vince wasn’t prepared for seeing Laura Leach on the back row. His heart almost popped with excitement when he saw she was sitting on her own again, same seat, quietly watching the film.

Do it, he thought. Go over to her, say hello. What, interrupt her during the film? Say you’re checking things out, that’s all. Tell her you’re the projectionist – no, the
Chief
Projectionist – and you’re checking to see if everything’s OK. Like a fucking survey? She’d love that, you idiot! Think of something else, quick, because you’ll have to get back to your box soon. Don’t screw up your chance. Think, man!

Except he didn’t have to worry at all. There wasn’t any point. The man – that same man – was here. He’d been down to the kiosk to get her something and was making his way down the line of seats holding out a bag of Minstrels for her. He bent, he kissed, he coiled his arms around her shoulders, did all those things that caused Vince’s heart to freeze stone cold with loathing and hatred and every nasty bit of emotion he could dredge up from the deepest, blackest parts of his soul.

Vince’s insides collapsed. The bastard, he thought! The two-timing skunk! He was seeing two women, cheating on them both, but most importantly cheating on Laura. The slimeball!

He envisaged going up to them, telling him how wrong that was and he must be a real low-life to do that to someone as lovely and as perfect as Laura. He’d tell her he loved her more than this scumbag who couldn’t control the insides of his underpants. They’d fight, naturally, and it didn’t matter if he lost because he’d come out of it looking good whichever way it went.

But of course he didn’t do any of that. He slipped quietly away, back to his projection booth to allow his anger to ferment.

‘The name’s Casper Younge tonight,’ he said.

Martin Caldwell had obviously been drinking again. His face was flushed and there was a slight wobble to his head. He sat in his desk chair, arms folded. ‘I don’t care what fucking name you’re using. I told you never to contact me again. You shouldn’t be here. Who showed you my office?’

‘One of the ladies from the kiosk. Charm, Martin. Works every time.’

‘Get the fuck out of my office. Out of my life.’

‘Now, now, Martin, no need to act like that. Let’s sort this amicably.’

‘There’s nothing to sort, Felix. Look, you saw how many people were in the cinema tonight. The takings in this place are piss-poor. It’s barely hanging on. I’m not making enough to hide even a little top-slicing. So you’re wasting your time. You and Kat can go and fuck yourselves, because I can’t help you. Now take the hint and leave me alone. Go back to taking that poor bint for a ride. It’s what you do best.’

Felix smiled. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment, particularly as it comes from an old master. You don’t know what you’re missing, Martin. We’re screwing Laura for twenty-thousand pounds.’

Martin’s eyes widened. ‘You’re pissing up my back!’

‘No pissing. She’s all over me like a rash, believes everything I tell her. She’s waiting for me, out in the car. I said I’d lost my wallet, had to come in and find it. Gives me time to talk things over with you.’

‘You’re taking her for all that money and yet you’re bothering trying to cream a few measly quid from the Empire’s takings? Why is that, Felix?’

‘Because I can,’ he said matter-of-factly, checking his manicured nails, picking out a smidgen of dirt.

‘Well you can bugger off, because I’m not playing ball.’

‘You’ll regret it, Martin.’

Caldwell
leant forward, his fists on the desk. His face twisted into angry lines. ‘Don’t fuck with me, Felix, or you’re dead!’

Felix raised an eyebrow. ‘Would you believe it – the little dog has got teeth!’ He grabbed
Caldwell
by the tie, yanked him forward. ‘Say that once more, Martin, and you’ll be the one who’s fucking dead!’ He released him, flinging him back as he did so. ‘You’ve got until the end of the week to come to your senses.’

He smoothed his jacket, passed
Caldwell
a last, lingering look, and then left the office. He made his way down to the foyer. Everyone had left the cinema now, apart from Edith who was stowing away ice-cream trays and sweets behind the kiosk; and Vince, who had just said goodnight to the ticket lady and was preparing to lock up the cinema doors for the night. He was taken aback at seeing Felix descending the stairs, fastening his coat. He glanced at Vince as he approached. Vince was still boiling inside, a great, intolerable pressure that was building up like a head of steam as Felix strolled up to him. As they drew level with one another Vince casually closed the plate-glass doors.

‘I need to get out,’ said Felix, eyeing the young man. ‘Open the door.’

‘I know you,’ said Vince. He was aware of Edith looking curiously at him.

‘Really? Well I don’t know you,’ said Felix. ‘Open the fucking door.’

‘I saw you up on Glastonbury Tor kissing that woman.’

Felix’s eyes narrowed, then recognition flooded in. ‘The runt, yeah, I remember you. So what?’

‘So you shouldn
’t be seeing both her and Miss L
each at the same time. It’s not right, and it’s not fair on Laura.’

Felix studied him coldly. ‘Are
you
telling
me
what I should or should not be fucking doing?’ He smiled and shook his head. ‘Get out of my fucking way.’

‘If Laura found out about you and that other woman…’

‘She won’t find out, will she?’ said Felix, his voice low and menacing.

‘I’m going to tell her. She has a right to know.’

In a flash, Felix had Vince by the collar. He tumbled him backwards and he almost fell over with the force. Felix pounded a hefty, balled fist into his stomach and Vince doubled over, winded and in pain. Then he was punched squarely in the face and Vince crashed against the popcorn cabinet. Edith screamed and ran from behind the counter.

‘Leave him alone, you brute!’ she said.

Felix bent down to Vince, who dabbed at a bloody nose. His cheek and mouth were beginning to throb terribly. ‘Listen to me, you fucking shite; don’t you tell Laura anything and don’t tell me what to do. Nobody tells me what to do. One more word from you, one tiny little squeak, and I’ll fucking kill you. Do you understand?’ Vince moaned softly, drops of blood splashing on the tiles. Felix slapped him hard across the cheek. ‘I said, do you understand, moron?’

Vince nodded weakly and Felix rose, straightened his coat and casting a meaningful, smouldering look towards Edith who had her tiny hand in her mouth. As soon as he’d left the cinema she ran over to Vince who was struggling to get up.

‘My God! Who was that horrible man? Shall I call the police?’ She saw the blood streaming down Vince’s nose. ‘Oh, Vince – you’ve been wounded!’

Well that didn’t go according to the plan he had in his head, thought Vince, allowing Edith to help him to his feet.

‘I told you to forget that Laura,’ she said, taking her handkerchief to staunch the blood. ‘She’s nothing but trouble.’

‘I don’t need reminding,’ he said shakily. ‘Not tonight.’

*  *  *  *

‘What have you done to your hand?’ she asked.

He was running it under the cold tap in the bathroom. His knuckles were split and dribbled blood. ‘Nothing,’ said Felix. ‘I thought you’d be fast asleep.’

‘Have you been in a fight?’ She could read his face like a book. He was tight-jawed, steely-eyed, looked as if he were seething underneath. ‘Christ, what have you done?’ She went over to a cabinet and took out a small tub that held a variety of medicines and tablets. She opened a box of sticking-plasters.

‘Just some poxy, meddling kid at the Empire.’

‘What were you doing there?’

‘Thought I’d take Laura along to see a film, quiz her about how she was doing getting the money together. Then I thought I’d go and see our mutual friend.’

She sighed heavily, taking the top off a tube of antiseptic cream. ‘I told you to leave him alone. We don’t need him now. Don’t screw things up, Felix; we’re so close to clinching it. Martin’s a nobody. We’ve used him and there’s an end to it. Why are you so obsessed with him?’

‘I ain’t obsessed.’

‘You are. You can’t let it rest, can you? Are you jealous, is that it?’

He scowled, drying his hands on a towel and squeezing cream from the tube. ‘I had to wear gloves so Laura didn’t see the blood,’ he mused, smearing on the cream. ‘Me? Jealous of that fucking loser?’

‘You are, aren’t you? Christ, it was a long time ago. He didn’t mean anything to me. I told you what he was like. How he treated me. What he’s capable of. Forget him. It’s been nice to see him squirm, like he made me squirm, but now’s the time to dump him.’

‘You brought us here, Kat. You suggested we use him.’

‘Only to get back at him, no more than that! It was business.’

‘Really?’ He grabbed the sticking-plaster she held out and slapped it over his cuts. ‘You sure about that, Kat?’

‘You moron!’ she said, punching him on the arm. ‘I love you, not that loser. I never once loved him.’ She kissed him on the lips, stared into his unconvinced, sullen eyes. ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’ He nodded reluctantly. ‘So just leave him alone, eh? Let’s take the money and run. Forget Martin, forget this goddamn backwater. I hate renting this place in
Glastonbury
. I hate
Somerset
. We can have a real good life from here on in, so don’t screw this up for us, not when it’s almost in the bag.’ Kat held his hand, looked at the grazed knuckles. ‘So which kid was this you floored?’

‘He’s the projectionist at the Empire. He saw us on top of Glastonbury Tor. He could be trouble. I was warning him off because he threatened to tell Laura. I think he got the message.’

‘He won’t spill the beans, will he?’ she asked with some alarm. ‘I told you to avoid that place.’

‘He’s a frightened little runt. He’ll not be saying anything.’

‘You don’t go to the Empire again, you hear?’ she said firmly.

He shrugged. ‘Yeah, whatever.’

‘I mean it, Felix. So, when will Laura have our money?’

He smirked. ‘At the end of the week. All sorted by then. I managed to persuade her to get the cash and I’ll be picking it up on Friday. I’ve persuaded her I’m away on business for a few days, and I’m busy sorting out the clinic in
Philadelphia
, flights, that kind of thing. She still thinks we’ll be getting married after I’ve had my operation.’

‘That’s good,’ said Kat thoughtfully. ‘Till then we keep low. No more visits to
Caldwell
, no more flooring little runts. You and me we’re going to
London
to do some serious shopping. I’ve booked us flights to
France
for when all this is over. I’ve also got appointments booked with French real-estate agents to look over a few villas.’

‘You don’t hang around,’ he said, clutching her to him and kissing her.

‘A week from now and we’ll be sitting pretty,’ she said.

‘You’re already pretty,’ he said.

‘Cut the smarm, Felix; it doesn’t work on me. I’m no Laura Leach.’

No one likes to see a police car. It makes people feel really uncomfortable, thought Vince as he answered the rear door and saw the two police officers standing there, and the car parked like some kind of striped beast of prey behind them in the yard. Their silver buttons gleamed against the dark of their uniforms.