Page 24 of Beyond Repair
Once the door had swung shut and the strains of the classical music could be heard again over the thumping from downstairs, Daniel wiped his hands down his face and reached for the envelope. He pulled out the photos slowly and smiled as a close-up of her face came into view, pleased that he’d requested all the images to be printed rather than just viewed on his computer. Somehow she felt more tangible this way; every one of her thick, dark lashes clearly defined, her high cheekbones flushed with colour and the freckles on her nose easily discernable. His smile died quickly however after he spread the rest of them across the desk. There she was being held up by a man – secured to his side. As he flipped to the next, his grip on his drink tightened again: the man was backing her up into her front door. The sound of shattering glass filled the office as Daniel flipped to the next photograph. He swore and snatched up some tissues to stem the flow of blood from his hand. Jerking his chair back, he jumped up and headed to the door, slamming it behind him. On his desk sat the blood-splattered image of a beautiful, small, curly-haired woman in the arms of a dark-haired man. At first she was looking up at him, scrunching her nose, and then his mouth had covered hers.
Out of the shadows, behind a filing cabinet in the corner of his office, Goodie emerged, dressed all in black and her short white-blonde hair only slightly ruffled. She dusted off her skin-tight trousers and sauntered across the room like she didn’t have a care in the world; as if squatting behind filing cabinets for hours on end was all the same to her. In the middle of the room she suddenly looked up at the far corner and performed a little finger wave and a one-finger salute, before moving on silent feet to the desk. She looked down at the photos spread over it.
Then she smiled.
Chapter 12
Everyone knows you don’t have to mindlessly obey the warning lights
‘So, you want in or not?’ Rob asked, expertly lifting Finlay up into his chair, then pausing to bellow: ‘Kids, get your arses in here! Supper’s on the table!’
‘Jesus,’ Sam muttered down the line, ‘could you bloody warn me before you do that; I’m deaf in one ear now.’
‘Boys! Supper, now!’
‘Rob, Christ, they’re children not a sodding regiment of new recruits.
‘Oh, believe me they’re worse than any regiment I’ve ever been in charge of,’ Rob muttered darkly.
‘What, worse than controlling a bunch of hormonal, violent, emotionally immature teenagers with weapons?’
‘Mate, I’ve been pissed, shat, and puked on today. One of them decided to hide from me whilst the older boys were playing tennis, causing the whole goddamn tennis club to come to a standstill. Just as the police pulled up, the little blighter pokes his head out of a cupboard in the clubhouse shouting: ‘I win!’ Another one ran out into the road whilst I was wrestling the baby into his car seat and fighting against his impressive imitation of a plank of wood. I ran after him, got him out of the way, but was clipped by a car myself in the process. So to sum up I’m a lot more worse for wear than after a day training new recruits – even a day in active service pales in comparison, mate.’
‘Where’s the missus?’
‘Goddamn exhausted and hopefully sleeping,’ Rob replied. ‘She looks like death. Gonna have to throw money at the problem and force her to accept a nanny or something. The profit on this next job alone could pay for a year of childcare if not more. So you in?’
‘Look … I think I’ll stay around here for the time being,’ Sam said.
‘What?’ Rob asked, and then, ‘Benji! Do not throw your brother!’
‘But he likes it,’ Sam could hear in the background.
‘He’s two and he’s a nutcase,’ Rob returned. ‘Just because he likes it does not mean it’s a good idea. Heis nota bowling ball. What do you mean you want to stay? You never want to stay?’
‘Are you talking to me or the hellions?’
‘Sam, don’t be a prick. You know I’m talking to you.’
‘Look, I think I’m better off running the security on the set at the moment. Needs someone with experience, and I …’
‘Christ, it’s not about that Lydia bitch is it? Please tell me you’re not staying so you can continue to tap that?’
Sam shuddered. After an extremely ill advised attempt to continue to ‘tap that’ last night, he was sure of at least one thing today and that was his intention to avoid her at all costs. ‘You could freeze ice in that woman’s vagina, mate. Not going there again.’ Rob let out a bark of laughter, then shouted, ‘Boys sit down, now!’
Sam had to hold the phone away from his ear, and winced. ‘I don’t think Sarah shouts as much as that, does she?’
‘It’s all water off a duck’s back with these psychos,’ Rob muttered into the phone. ‘Anyway I think shouting is coming back as a valid parenting technique.’
Sam was sensible enough not to question that assertion or the fact that Rob had any knowledge whatsoever of parenting techniques.
‘Look, if you need me to go …’
‘No, it’s fine, I can send Geoff with the boys – but listen, hold on.’ Sam heard a scuffle, and then the shouts and screams of the boys went quiet. ‘Ah, blissful silence,’ Rob said, sighing in relief.
‘How did you … ?’
‘I’m outside the front door,’ Rob told him, and Sam stifled another laugh imagining Rob in the freezing cold of his porch, hiding from his own kids. ‘Listen, is this because of … ?’
