Page 28 of Between the Lies

‘Fuck you!’ Finn growled. ‘Fine! The day after tomorrow, on Argyle Street…’

Robert surrendered the laptop and pulled out his notepad. Twenty-four hours and he’d have Nina.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Nina twisted her head from side to side. That hotel bed had been lumpy at best. She’d woken up with a crick in her neck, tired from a night spent wrestling with the sheets.

The backpack on her shoulder definitely didn’t soothe the ache. Nina grabbed the right strap and held on to give her back muscles some reprieve.

She slowed down her walk, schooling her breath.

One step in front of the other, Nina.

Glasgow’s Argyle Street was busy with people shopping for Christmas, rushing towards the train stations, or queuing up to catch the bus. In all this chaos and early darkness of November, she had to find the ‘leaflet’ guy outside a mobile repair shop.

She had reached out to Finn again, begging him for another expedited ID. He’d grumbled, saying how none of his clients had returned to ask for a new ID just a couple weeks after he’d given them the first one. Apparently, she was a psycho case. Nina had a mind to ask if Finn would agree to a retainer. At this rate, she’d need a new ID every so often.

Things weren’t looking so good; she was running out of cash. This was the last ID she could afford.

She’d budgeted some cash for her basic living expenses. Even if she lived outside of Glasgow, sooner or later, she’d need to find a job, something that didn’t require any background checks or an employment contract with a notice period.

In her twenty years in the work force, Nina had always been a journalist. She hadn’t worked in a job that required minimum commitments. Her work had been high stress, ambiguous hours and constant pressure. All things she loved. Now she’d left everything behind. All her dear things – memorabilia from dream trips, her collection of designer boots and her expensive tech was all lost.

Except for a few changes of clothes, her favourite boots, laptop and Jonas’s camera, Nina had nothing with her. A situation she’d never thought she’d find herself in again.

Nina shut the lid on the memories of that rainy day she’d arrived at Heathrow, all her belongings packed in a suitcase. Guess she’d come full circle.

Nina let go of her backpack’s strap, again twisting her head. It helped relieve the pain and also with hunting for her leaflet guy.

Last night, Finn had sent her instructions. She had to find a man handing out leaflets near a mobile phone repair shop. The man would hand a leaflet to her which would actually be an envelope containing her new identity.

Finn was a godsend, though his delivery plans were a bit weird. And cumbersome.

Nina walked along the pavement, conscious of how long it would take her to get there. Finn had instructed her to be there by half five. It was around fifteen minutes past five now, and she was slowly approaching the shop.

He’d warned her of being too early or too late. They only had two minutes’ wiggle room either side of half five. Why? He hadn’t bothered to explain. Nor did Nina care to know. She’d follow his lead and hope that this new ID would be her last.

The mobile phone repair shop came into view not a minute later. A string of neon lights gleamed in the window, beckoning people to enter and bejewel their phones or repair cracked phone screens.

Under normal circumstances, Nina would never venture into such a shop – she liked her phone as plain as the day she’d bought it – though she didn’t have a phone now.

To avoid loitering outside the shop and risking an early arrival, Nina paused by the shop three doors down.

Shoes. Now this she could spend hours perusing. Nina stood staring at the window displays, each shoe gleaming, perfect for the festive season. They had a pair of glittery snow boots, fuzzy slippers for the cold and some beautiful heeled faux leather ones… in dark red.

In other circumstances, she’d have walked in to at least try them on. But now, Nina pivoted, so she could keep an eye on the repair shop.

There was a man outside, trying to hand people leaflets. He was tall and broad – with a muscular back visible despite his coat – not the sort you generally found on the streets handing out things to people. They generally liked more average-height folk who blended in.

This man stood out. And so did his deep voice.

He seemed to be doing a great job, particularly with women. Instead of steering away from him, like most people did when they saw someone handing out leaflets, people were walking towards him.

What were his leaflets about?

Nina wished he’d turn round so she could put a face to that broad back and fine arse silhouetted perfectly against the flashing Christmas lights. Instead, all she had to go on was his beanie, which hid most of his hair, and the collar of his coat, which covered his neck to keep the cold at bay. Just her luck! But he would be handing her the documents soon.

Excitement bubbled in her stomach… or was it nervousness?

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