Page 43 of Diamond in the Rough

“Wha—”

“Enough now, Jake. When we get out the car, no more talk. I don’t trust your flat.”

“I haven’t found any microphones.”

“They might be hidden in plain sight.”

“Like where?”

Carl snorted. “I dunno, the fridge.”

Jake unclipped his belt, then climbed out the car. Carl wore a face of seriousness when he got out and swept his brown hair back on his head.

He checked up and down the street, then waved Jake towards him. “It’s all clear.”

“I do have eyes, ya know.”

Carl held open the first door to the building, then pointed at the floor for Jake to wait at the bottom of the steps. “Yes, sir,” Jake said, then saluted.

“Keep your bedroom talk in the bedroom.”

Carl hurried up the stairs, alert with his back straight and head whipping round to see every angle. He reminded Jake of a meerkat, and he laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Carl tapped on Jake’s front door, and he joined him, slotting the key inside.

“I’ll do a quick sweep of your flat, and then I’ll go,” Carl said.

Jake opened the door and let Carl rush ahead of him. He hurried from room to room, checking for any threat. He seemed satisfied there was nothing and walked back into the living room.

Jake put his keys to the side and slumped onto the sofa. He struggled to turn on the TV, but eventually, the controller gave in to his demands and the news came up on screen.

“Every time I come get you, that’s what you’re watching,” Carl said.

Jake shrugged. “There’s nothing else on.”

“What’re you talking about? The amount of food programmes.” Carl waved his hand at the kitchen. “You could learn a lot, get you away from those quick noodles.”

“They taste good.”

“They’re terrible for you.” Carl snapped his fingers to get Jake’s attention. “That’s why I got you this from the bakery. The owner recommended it.”

Carl reached inside his coat and pulled out a paper bag. He lifted his eyebrows, and Jake took the package and peeked inside. It didn’t look like the gun he’d fired in the woods. It was smaller and light in his hand.

“Thanks,” Jake murmured, then bit his lip.

Carl looked around the living room again, speaking loudly and not directly to Jake. “Thought you could do with it in case you’ve had enough of noodles.”

“Ri—Right…”

Jake couldn’t speak, and Carl leaned forward and gripped his shoulders. “It’ll be fine, I swear. I’ll pick you up for work tomorrow.”

He cast his gaze over the room one last time, then strolled away.

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