Out of Sight Out of Mind (2 page)

The hair under the cap was dishevelled but not lank. It was midnight dark, except for a splatter of silver at the sideburns. What she could see of the beard was black and silver, too. His head was down, sunk into his chest, so she couldn’t check out his features.

The fresh cut over the eye was oozing now, not dripping. In a proper light she could see that it had been half healed but had re-opened when he fell. With his head down, the bruises were less obvious. He’d been heavy enough when she’d manhandled him in here, but the ancient overcoat hung loose on him. She suspected he was gaunt for a man of his build. The ragged edges of a pair of grey trousers showed under the coat. The trainers were the most disgusting pair she’d seen in a while.

They would be going straight in the bin.

One of his hands, grazed at the knuckle and ingrained with dirt, was splayed out, limp, on the seat beside him. He was scrubbing awkwardly at the cut with the other.

‘Here.’ She found a lipstick-stained tissue in the bottom of her battered evening bag, tore off the stained part and handed it over.

‘Thanks.’ It was no more than a mumble, but it did get his head up.

The eyes were dark, possibly blue. Clouded and unfocused.

His head drooped again, but he still held the tissue, so he hadn’t drifted off.

Almost absently she scanned him; a fast, non-invasive once over. What was coming out of him now was the standard soupy muddle of thoughts she could pick up from any passer-by, on any street corner in London. The sort of stuff she’d learned to tune out, aeons ago … Nothing special.

Shit!
Had she made a mistake, dragging him in here?

She hesitated. She didn’t normally do this. It was against all her principles. But this wasn’t exactly normal. She gathered her thoughts and probed into him.

‘Fuck! Don’t do that!’ He jumped, wincing away from her. As if she had slapped him.

‘You can feel it?’ Shock spiked through her.

‘How can I fail to,’ he flapped his hand as if he was warding off a troublesome insect, ‘when you’re coming at me like a boot to the head?’

She pulled out of him sharply, heart rate accelerating and decision made.

‘Right, here’s the deal.’ She leaned over him, talking fast and close to his ear. Scott was walking back towards them. ‘You go along with everything I’m about to say and you get food, a bed for the night and fifty quid. In exchange you help me with a couple of experiments.’

‘Mind experiments?’

She caught her breath. Exhausted and in pain, he was still as sharp as a razor. ‘Yes. Mind experiments. Nothing painful, I promise.’

‘Huh!’ He hunched away from her, chin down. She was getting used to the look of the top of his head. ‘Hundred.’

‘What?’

‘Hundred pounds.’

‘In your dreams. Seventy.’

‘Hundred.’ He was looking sideways, over her shoulder. ‘Make your mind up quickly, lady. Your little pal is almost here. Got a pretty determined expression on his face. I reckon I’m gonna be out on my ass in about ten seconds.’

‘All right!’ She capitulated, exasperated. ‘A hundred. You’d better be worth it!’

‘Always do my best to satisfy a lady.’ He leaned back on the leather cushion. There was a distinct gleam in the dark eyes.

‘You’ve certainly recovered.’ She put all the ice she had into her stare before turning away.
What have I done?

She squared her shoulders. He was big and undoubtedly smart, but so was she, so that was no problem. He was hurt, which gave her the edge. She pushed down a qualm. He was better off with her than out there on the street, in pain. She could handle him. She had to. He had something she wanted. Really wanted.

‘Scott.’ She moved forward, smiling. ‘Please don’t give me grief on this.’ The folded note in her hand disappeared smoothly into Scott’s top pocket. ‘It’s just—’ she shrugged, looking guilty. It wasn’t that hard. She didn’t like lies, and there were far too many in her life already. But she had to get Scott onside. If he made a fuss – hell, she was
not
going to lose this guy. She had the speech planned. It wouldn’t be a lie. Not exactly. She revved up the smile. ‘Like you said, he’s bleeding. He was on the ground behind my car. I could have clipped him when I backed in.’
Maybe – if he’d been anywhere near at the time
. ‘I don’t want any trouble. If I can get him upstairs and cleaned up, he’ll be out of here by morning. We’ll use the service entrance.’ She put all the reassurance she could into her voice, then held her breath.

Scott was wavering visibly. ‘Well – I suppose he’s your guest, like, isn’t he?’ He made up his mind. ‘All right.’ He rolled up the sleeves of his uniform and leaned over to grab one of the captive’s arms. ‘Come on, sunshine, on your feet. And mind you behave yourself with the lady.’

‘Yes, guv. Obliged to you, guv.’ Over Scott’s head Madison met eyes with the wickedest gleam she’d ever seen. Then he winked. She swallowed a breath. The next few days were going to be … eventful.

Scott had got him up, but he was floundering, favouring the left side of his body. The one she’d thumped in the alley. She swallowed down a twinge of guilt, and moved to take his arm gently, letting him settle his weight against her in his own time.

‘Thanks.’ The word was a whisper against her ear. She looked sideways. As he stooped they were on the same level, and she met his eyes again. Navy blue. Softer now, but still knowing.

She was about to take this stranger into her home. A place she didn’t even take her friends. She shivered, hoping he didn’t feel it.

Scott was getting impatient.

An unlikely threesome, they shambled towards the elevator.

Scott was back on the ground floor, soaping his hands in the cloakroom, when the door banged open behind him. His sister, Sandra, stood in the doorway, holding a mop and bucket.

‘Wondered where you’d got to.’

‘Had to wash my hands, didn’t I?’ Scott shook water off his fingers. ‘Been up to the penthouse. Helped Miss Albi take a man up there.’ He smirked when his sister’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Some old vagrant she nearly ran over. Filthy, he was.’ Scott fastidiously adjusted the cuffs of his uniform. ‘Too soft-hearted, she is. Wanted to make sure he was all right. I’d have left the bugger there.’

‘Yeah, well, you would.’ Sandra advanced towards the sink. ‘You know Miss Albi, she’s dead kind to everyone, treats everyone proper. She’s a really nice lady. For a spook.’

Scott’s head jerked. ‘You don’t want to go saying that. That’s just stupid gossip.’

‘Might not be gossip.’ Sandra flounced as she put her mop in the sink. ‘That place Miss Albi works. Research laboratory –
mind
research. Got to be top secret, innit? Spooks and stuff.’

‘You want to keep your mouth shut,’ Scott warned. ‘If Miss Albi hears you talking like that she won’t want you cleaning her place.’

Sandra sniffed. ‘Know when to be discreet, don’t I?’ She turned off the tap. ‘Bit risky though, innit, taking in some bloke off the street? You reckon she’s all right up there?’ Sandra frowned, concerned. ‘She’s got some nice stuff, and she’s all on her own since that chap of hers went. Pity about that.’ Sandra gave a sentimental sigh. ‘Right before the wedding and all.’

‘Better before than after,’ Scott said sharply. ‘You don’t want to go talking about
that,
either.’ He adjusted his tie. ‘She’ll ring down, if she wants anything. You get on and do the lobby, while it’s quiet.’

Madison shoved her key in the lock, one eye on the captive.
Really must get a name.
He was propped against the wall, head down. Scott had scarcely handed them out of the lift before he’d pressed the button to descend. The lift foyer to the penthouse was tiny, but it had still taken them an age to cross it. She looked him over, mouth twisting. Exhaustion was closing in on him.
Him.

‘Do you have a name?’ She pushed the door open.

‘Mmm.’ He was swaying. She grabbed him before he fell. If he went down, she’d have to call Scott to get him up again.

‘Not far now.’ She hauled on the front of his overcoat, holding him upright with teeth gritted. She felt him pull in a deep breath. Some of the weight eased. ‘Okay?’ she checked, cautiously.

‘Yeah.’ For a moment they stood, looking at each other.

His eyes were surprisingly alert, long lashed. Madison felt colour coming up into her face. His body leaned against hers. Close. Hard. Warm. Warm was good, except—

She swallowed. Behind her was the open door of her home. Her refuge. What was she doing?

‘S’all right.’ His voice was husky. ‘We have a deal.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She tried to sound brisk.

‘You’re worried about taking me in there.’ He nodded behind them. ‘And if you’re not, then you ought to be.’ She couldn’t really tell, under the mat of beard, but there might have been a twisted grin in there somewhere. ‘I’m assuming there isn’t a husband/lover/boyfriend lurking?’

He’s going to find out, so why hide
? ‘No.’

‘No one to object if you bring your work home with you.’ There was definitely amusement in the voice now.

Madison felt a familiar stir of resentment. Women had to be so careful about things a man wouldn’t think twice about. It got under her skin, but now wasn’t the time. Even so— ‘I wouldn’t be with a man who wanted to dictate what I do. And I’m not afraid of you,’ she added, for good measure.

He was staring at her. ‘That so?’

‘Yes.’ She pursed her lips, trying to ignore the squirm in her belly. This was getting to be quite a night for half-truths.

His eyes were still on her face. ‘You sure? Only you did such a good job, fibbing to Scotty-boy—’

‘If you were listening, you know I didn’t – fib.’ The childish word suddenly made her want to giggle. She resisted, sucking in her cheeks.

‘Sophistry.’

Madison blinked. ‘What?’

‘You heard. Didn’t think someone homeless would know a big word like that?’ He was baiting her again. Temper stirred.

‘I make it a rule never to prejudge anyone I meet.’
But you may have underestimated this one.
She ground her teeth. ‘I misled Scott. I admit it – so sue me. It got you up here.’ She met his stare. ‘I repeat, I am not afraid of you.’
Make something of that, mister.

‘Good, because you don’t have to be.’ Abruptly he gave up the contest. She saw a shadow of pain cross his face. Anger faded as her heart twisted in sympathy. ‘I can be civilised,’ he added. ‘Your person and your furniture are quite safe.’

Bitterness, under the flat tone?

‘Good to know.’ It was disconcerting to hear the quiver of relief in her voice. She took his arm again.

They made it into the hall. Madison took a second to breathe, wondering how the place appeared to a stranger. She’d chosen the coral paint to be warm, welcoming. Not that she ever welcomed anyone. Not since Neil. She stepped past that thought.

‘Right.’ She straightened up. ‘I’ll fix us some food, while you take a shower.’ She frowned. ‘Will you be able to manage that?’

‘I’ll manage – I’ll find something to hold on to – unless you’re offering to prop me up?’

She wasn’t going to dignify
that
with a response. ‘There are clothes—’ She gestured to the hall cupboard. ‘They should fit.’

She opened the door and rummaged. She knew Neil wasn’t coming back, but she hadn’t been able to get herself together to dispose of his things. They’d made it as far as a couple of plastic sacks in the closet by the door and no further. Now she was glad she’d lacked the courage for that final step. Neil and this guy were much of a size.

She unearthed the black bags and pulled out jeans and socks, a soft plaid shirt, which gave her a pang under the heart, and a nearly new sweater, which didn’t. Digging deeper she found an unopened pack of boxer shorts, and turned with the pile in her arms.

‘These were on their way to the charity shop, so you can keep them. Afterwards.’

‘After you’ve had your wicked way with me, you mean?’

She ignored him, looking at his feet. Shoes would be a problem. Neil had small feet for a six footer, smaller than this one. Those trainers were
too
disgusting. He’d have to go without until the stores opened tomorrow. She caught herself up.
Making plans to take him shopping?

He hadn’t moved to take the bundle, so she put it down on the hall table.

‘Not coming back?’ He nodded towards the pile. ‘The previous owner?’

‘No.’ She hoped her body language was telling him not to go there. Giving him Neil’s clothes was one thing, explaining— ‘I assume you don’t have issues with pre-owned?’

He shrugged and winced. ‘Not if he doesn’t.’

‘He won’t.’
Can’t.

He was leaning against the front door, as if he still hadn’t quite decided whether to bolt. ‘And they’re part of my fee – after you’ve sucked out all I have to give and spat me back out.’

‘You have a wonderful turn of phrase. It’s your mind I’m interested in,
that’s all
!’

‘Didn’t imagine anything else. No, wrong. Imagined, maybe. Expected? No.’

It took a second for her to realise he was laughing, not wheezing.

He looked dreadful, haggard and drawn and bruised, but he was laughing, head tilted, inviting her to laugh with him.

She almost wanted to.

‘Actually.’ He put his hand to his face, rubbing the cut as if it hurt him. ‘Despite my boasting downstairs, I’m not sure I’m in a fit state to accommodate a lady. Even one who only wants my mind. I think you may have wasted your money.’

‘I haven’t paid you yet.’ She pulled his hand away from his face. ‘You’ll make it bleed again.’

‘Sorry,’ he muttered, closing his eyes and leaning more heavily against the door. She stared at him. He hadn’t struck her so far as the kind of guy who apologised much, so he had to be feeling pretty bad.

Very cautiously, she flicked a probe into his mind. In and out, before he could sense her too deeply.

Even the half-second of contact was enough. Three different sorts of physical pain, confusion, gnawing hunger – and something that felt very close to total exhaustion. His system was just too overloaded to cope. It was swamping him. He was hanging on more or less by willpower alone.