- Home
- Jim Eldridge
4.3.2.1 Page 8
4.3.2.1 Read online
Page 8
‘I didn’t do nothing,’ the handsome fake Brett appealed desperately. ‘You jumped on me! You wanted it!’ He writhed, struggling against the ties. ‘What are you gonna do with us? And why do you have cable ties anyway? Why are you doing this?’
‘Shut up!’ Cass shouted at him. ‘Why am I doing this? Because you took my virginity. And then you took my shopping!’ She stood there, shaking with anger. ‘And just so you know, I’ve deleted all your pictures of me. And now we’re gonna see how you like being on the end of it.’
With that she bent down close to Sneaky Cool and Handsome. He did his best to writhe away from her, shouting, pleading with her, but she stuffed a sock in his mouth and then grabbed his trousers and pants and pulled them down to his ankles, exposing him. Let’s see how he likes his prick and balls being photographed and stuck up on the Web for everyone to see, she thought.
Cool Brett squirmed, pulling his bare legs up to try and stop her photographing him. He was trying to say something through the sock in his mouth. Cass stopped taking photographs, bent down and pulled the sock out of his mouth.
‘What?’ she demanded.
Suddenly one of his hands shot from behind his back and grabbed her wrist in a tight and painful grip.
He’s got his hands free! she thought, horrified.
The next second his other hand swung at her, bunched into a fist, and hit her hard in the stomach. Cass crumpled down, doubled over, all the air gone from her with the pain.
She struggled to sit up.
Panic hit Cass. I have to get away, she thought.
The pain in her stomach where he had hit her made her feel sick. She began to crawl towards the door, but then she felt his hands like claws grab hold of her legs. She tried to shake him off, but he ignored her, just clung on.
‘Let me go, you bastard!’ shrieked Cass.
‘Such a potty mouth for such a hot girl,’ sneered Cool and Handsome. There was real hatred in his voice, real venom, and Cass knew that if she didn’t get away he’d kill her. Again she tried to kick out, force him to release his grip on her legs, but his fingers just tightened on her even more painfully. Slowly, he was pulling her towards him. She turned and saw the evil smile on his face, a leer of sadistic pleasure as he dragged her ever nearer with the strength of his hatred.
Suddenly his expression changed and he let out a scream, releasing Cass. She pulled away and saw geeky Brett had his teeth sunk into Cool and Handsome’s leg.
Cass leaped to her feet and ran for the door. She was dimly aware of Cool and Handsome kicking the geek in the face, then pulling up his pants. She heard geeky Brett call out desperately after her: ‘I love you! I fucking love you!’ Then she had run out of the door and bolted for the stairs. Behind her she heard a yell of sheer hatred and anger from Cool and Handsome, and then his footsteps were right behind her, closing on her.
24
Cass almost fell down the steps of the brownstone to the pavement. Cool and Handsome was so close behind her she could almost feel his breath on the back of her neck. There was a sudden tearing pain in her scalp as his fingers snatched at her hair and pulled her back.
‘Got you!’ he shouted triumphantly.
Cass’s eyes filled with tears, both from the pain in her scalp and from the terror of what she knew he was going to do to her.
‘Hey! Leave her alone!’
Cass blinked and took in a stocky black woman standing by a trash can she’d obviously just been putting out.
Cool and Handsome turned towards the woman, but didn’t relax his grip.
‘Mind your business, bitch!’ he spat at her. Then he turned his attention back to Cass, pulling harder at her hair, making her cry out in pain.
The woman walked towards them, anger firing in her eyes.
‘What the fuck you say?’ she demanded.
Cool and Handsome turned back to her and scowled.
‘I said take your black ass inside. Eat some chicken or watermelon and mind yo’ own damn business.’
The woman glared at Cool and Handsome, then turned and spoke to someone just outside Cass’s field of vision: ‘You hear what he just say?’
Cass twisted so she could see who the woman was talking to. A dozen or so black people were walking towards them. All of them were looking at Cool and Handsome with menace. The woman who’d first interrupted eyed him coolly.
‘I think the first thing you’d better do is let that girl go,’ she said firmly.
As the woman’s friends and neighbours drew closer, Cool and Handsome released his grip on Cass’s hair. He tried to back away, but already some of the people had moved behind him, covering his exit in that direction. He and Cass were surrounded.
The woman looked at Cass.
‘You lost, girl?’
‘Yes and no,’ whispered Cass.
‘Where you from?’
‘England.’
The woman nodded, then said, ‘Now, I take it that you do not want this soon-to-be-ass-whipped little bitch pulling on your hair like he was?’
Cass shook her head in agreement. The woman winked at her and gave her a small smile, then said, ‘Well, you just take your little ass home. We gonna deal with him.’
‘What are you gonna do?’ asked Cass, intrigued.
‘Well, first I’m gonna teach him respect for women. Then I’m gonna get my cousins here to talk to him about racial stereotypes. Like assuming all black people eat watermelon and chicken. After that, he’s gonna understand that although my ass is black, he ain’t got no right to signify that shit to me like I didn’t know already. That is gonna be a hard lesson.’
Cass shot a look at Cool and Handsome. All his bluster had gone and now there was fear in his eyes. You bastard, thought Cass. You hurt me and you enjoyed it. And you were going to hurt me again, really hurt me, and you were really going to enjoy it.
She turned back to the woman.
‘Maybe you could tattoo him as well? So he learns his lesson.’
The woman grinned.
‘What you want it to say?’
Cass looked at Brett, her expression coldly angry.
‘Something like: I used to pretend to be someone else to have sex with girls. Then I got caught and hog-tied and nearly had photos taken of my tiny penis. And every day I look in the mirror I will remember how lucky I am to only have this tattoo as revenge.’
The woman thought it over, and nodded.
‘It’s a bit long,’ she said. ‘But I think we get the picture of what you want.’
Brett suddenly turned to Cass, his eyes desperate.
‘Please,’ he begged. ‘Don’t leave me here!’
Cass looked at him coldly, then flipped him the finger and walked off. Behind her, she saw them closing in on him.
25
Cass sat on the bed in her hotel room. She felt miserable. No, she felt worse than miserable; she felt as if her world had fallen in on her. First Brett. Then the audition for Larofsky. All screwed up and gone. Gone for ever. The only good thing that had happened this weekend was Big Larry taking that note back to England for Shannon from her mum. Big Larry was a good guy. Maybe she should have saved herself for him instead of that creep Brett. Both Bretts.
She wondered if the note had made it safely to the UK, and if Kerrys had passed it on.
She looked at her clock. 5 a.m. 10 a.m in England. She wondered if Kerrys was still at her place, or if she’d gone home. She also thought about the party that had been going on at her place. She’d have something to say to Kerrys about that when they met up, she thought angrily. Kerrys was supposed to be her friend!
She dialled Kerrys’s number. Kerrys answered almost immediately.
‘Hello? Oh, hi, Cass. What time is it in New York?’
‘Five in the morning.’
‘You ain’t asleep?’
‘Long story,’ said Cass. ‘Did you get the note from Shannon’s mum? The one I sent by courier.’
‘Yeah. Wow.’
‘I d
idn’t have her address. I guessed you’d know where to get it to her.’
‘No problem.’
There was a brief pause, then Cass said, ‘I hope you cleaned up my place.’
‘Yeah,’ said Kerrys. ‘Left it spotless.’
‘OK,’ said Cass. ‘See you later.’
Cass hung up.
I bet Kerrys is lying, she thought. I bet my place is a real mess. She wished she still had geeky Brett’s hacked webcam so she could see what her place looked like. Then she dismissed the thought. She didn’t want that apartment, or even the memory of it, in her life again ever.
She felt angry. Beaten, defeated and angry. And it was all my fault, she thought. OK, not those scum, the two Bretts. That was definitely them. But blowing the audition like that.
And it wasn’t just to please her mother that she’d come to audition for Larofsky. It was something she’d really wanted to do. Playing a piano was like breathing to her. Yes, it was as real and important as that. She couldn’t imagine not playing the piano. And not just playing it, but being the best! She knew she was good. No, she was even better than that, she was special. She could take the world by storm, but instead she’d let her anger, her desire for revenge, get in her way. It was her fault that she’d messed it up with Larofsky. She’d been in control of her life, and then like an idiot she’d blown it.
Well, now it was time to stop being an idiot and get control of her life back again. Time to put her life back on track.
Jago Larofsky woke to a buzzing sound. What was it? Some sort of insect?
He looked at his wife, sleeping. He was half-asleep himself.
Drowsily, blearily, he wondered where the noise was coming from. Then he suddenly realised. It was the door buzzer.
He looked at the clock beside the bed. 5.30 a.m. Who on earth was calling at this hour? And with their finger pressed permanently on the door buzzer, by the sound of it. It had to be some sort of emergency for someone to be ringing like that. But if it was an emergency, why hadn’t they phoned? Maybe it was a neighbour? Maybe there’d been an accident right outside the apartment and someone was pressing the nearest doorbell in panic.
As these thoughts went through his head he was getting out of bed and pulling on his dressing gown, sliding his feet into slippers.
‘I’m coming!’ he called.
It did no good — the buzzer kept sounding, strident and annoying. He opened the door of the apartment. The girl from the previous night was standing there. The one who was late. What was her name? Phillips. That was it: Cassandra Phillips. He stared at her, dumbfounded.
‘What do you want?’ he demanded. ‘Do you know what time it is?’
She didn’t answer. Instead she pushed past him into the apartment, and began to run from the hallway, opening doors, peering into rooms.
My God, she’s mad! thought Larofsky. I’ve let a mad girl into our apartment! She’s going to kill us! He tried to remember if she’d been armed when he opened the door. He had to get help. He was running for the telephone to call for urgent assistance, when the sound of his piano being played came to him, and he stopped. That is superb, he thought.
He forgot about the phone and headed for the piano room. The strange girl was at the piano, her fingers flying over the keys, her whole body wrapped up in the music she was creating. And yes, although it was a piece he recognised, played by everyone, she was creating it.
He stood in the doorway and listened, watching, admiring. It had been a long time since he’d heard anyone this good.
Cass finished with a flourish, and then sat, head momentarily bowed, before she stood up and faced Larofsky. Larofsky studied her for a moment, and then what looked like the ghost of a smile appeared on his face.
‘Despite interrupting my Sunday rest, you countered your tardiness with invention,’ he said. ‘This leaves me to judge you purely on your impromptu performance which, if I am honest, was . . .’ He hesitated, then smiled properly and said ‘. . . brilliant.’ He gave her a little bow. ‘You have your place next year, Miss Phillips. Now leave, before I call the police.’
Cass smiled gratefully, nodded, and walked out, her eyes shining. She’d done it!
It was late on Sunday when Cass arrived back in London. She knew she should have told her parents which flight she was getting so they could meet her, but she didn’t want that. She didn’t want them. She wanted her friends. She wanted to know if Shannon had got the note from her mother. She wanted to talk to the girls about what had happened to her. It had been the most crucial, the most traumatic, weekend of her life, and she needed to share it with people who would understand.
She took out her mobile and dialled Jo.
‘Cass!’ Jo sounded both surprised and pleased. ‘Where are you?’
‘I’m back,’ said Cass.
‘You’re here?’
‘Yes. Where are you?’
‘I’m with Kerrys,’ said Jo. ‘Trying to find Shannon.’
‘Because of the note?’ asked Cass.
‘That, and some diamonds.’
‘Diamonds?’
‘We’ll explain when we see you. Where are you? We’ll pick you up.’
‘I’m in Blake Street.’
‘Stay there. We’re on our way.’
Cass hung up. Diamonds? What diamonds? Then she remembered the diamond she’d found in her hotel room in New York. The one that had fallen out of her bag. Her mind flashed back to those items on the TV news about the diamond robbery, and a feeling deep in her gut told her that somehow or other the diamond she had was part of it. But how?
KERRYS
26
Friday
As Kerrys rode the bus home she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy when she thought of Cass. Not about the guy in New York, the ‘love of Cass’s life’ — just the fact of Cass being able to pull out the money and buy an air ticket and book a hotel without needing to worry about the cost. It was the way the other half lived. Half? Hell, it was a lot less than that. Maybe ten per cent of the population had the kind of money that meant they could do what they wanted when they wanted, without worrying.
Kerrys felt in her pocket and her fingers touched the set of keys she’d picked up when they’d fallen out of Cass’s bag at the Cappuccino. The keys to Cass’s apartment.
OK, technically it was theft, but Cass wouldn’t be needing them for the next couple of days. She wouldn’t be needing her apartment for the next couple of days. And Kerrys was sick of living cooped up like a battery chicken in her tiny house, with her mum, her stepfather, her brother Manuel, her baby brother Lewis, and everyone else who turned up to visit. It was like living in the waiting room of a busy railway station. Cass wouldn’t mind if Kerrys took a couple of days’ breathing space, especially if Jas was free.
At the thought of Jas, Kerrys’s face almost broke into a smile. Almost, not quite. The subject of Jas was still a matter of anguish and pain at home. And hateful digs from her brother, Manuel. Her half-brother. God, she hated him!
She jumped off the bus, walked down the street and entered her house. There was a babble of noise coming from the living room, like they had half of Brazil in there, all talking at once. Kerrys moved as swiftly as she could past the closed door, aiming to get upstairs to her room before she could be spotted and dragged in.
She made it and as she went in she saw the lump of a body hidden beneath the duvet and her heart gave a leap. Jas!
She was about to take her clothes off and jump in, but then she hesitated. It wouldn’t be beyond Manuel to allow some of his skanky gang to use her room.
Carefully she peeled back a corner of the duvet.
A girl was asleep in the bed. A beautiful girl. A smile lit up Kerrys’s face.
‘Time to wake up, Jas,’ she whispered as she began to take off her clothes. ‘Mama’s home.’
Kerrys slid into the bed and her arm snaked around Jas’s naked body, her fingers finding Jas’s nipples.
‘Is the door lock
ed?’ asked Jas.
The answer came as they heard a knock at the door, and then the door opened. Both girls put their heads above the duvet and looked at Kerrys’s stepfather, Mr Jauo-Pinto, as he peered round the door at them. He looked embarrassed and half turned his head away.
‘Kerrys, your grandparents and your aunts are downstairs,’ he said. ‘They’ve come a long way, all the way from Brazil, and they need to rest, but they’ve waited to see you.’
Kerrys scowled. ‘They’re not here to see me,’ she said abruptly. ‘They’re here to see Manuel and Lewis. They don’t even like me.’
‘Just come down, please,’ her stepfather appealed to her.
Kerrys let out a heavy sigh.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘Give me a minute to get dressed.’
Mr Jauo-Pinto hesitated, obviously weighing up something that was on his mind. Finally he spoke, his voice awkward and his eyes still turned away from the two girls.
‘Also, your mother and I have told you, we don’t want no . . .’ He hesitated, and then looked towards Kerrys and Jas, his expression unhappy, ‘. . . no silly business in the house.’ He looked at Jas, obviously disappointed. ‘I thought your friend would just come up and wait for you.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Jas. ‘I did, but I got tired and fell asleep.’
Mr Jauo-Pinto didn’t reply, just looked at them dis-approvingly and then went out, pulling the door shut.
‘Shit,’ growled Kerrys.
27
Kerrys and Jas walked downstairs. Kerrys saw that Jas looked apprehensive and gave her a smile.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said. ‘Don’t let them get to you. Manuel should keep his mouth shut in front of my grandparents.’
They were just about to walk into the living room, when the doorbell rang.
‘Go on in,’ said Kerrys, gesturing at the living room. ‘I’ll join you.’
Kerrys opened the door. Manuel’s friend Dillon was there, with his friend Smoothy. Smoothy looked nervous, but then he always looked nervous around Kerrys. Either nervous or aggressive.