Page 35 of A Face in the Crowd
I stare beyond her, out past the fence of the beer garden towards the green on the far side, close to the stream.
‘Do you know him?’ she adds.
There’s a bit of a distance, but the shape is distinctive enough. There’s a large man in wellington boots and an olive-green fleece, standing with his hands in his pockets. He has some sort of dodgy comb-over but mutton chops that curve around into a beard.
‘I’ve never seen him before,’ I reply.
Elaine makes ahrmsound. ‘No one knows him,’ she says. ‘But he was hanging around at the church and now he’s here.’ She turns and the two of us stand side by side watching as the man stares back towards the pub.
‘I didn’t see him at the service,’ I say.
‘He was over by the cars as we were coming out,’ she replies.
‘He could be some sort of photographer…?’
‘Where’s his camera?’
She has me there. If he is from the media, there are people here who’d be happy to talk.
Perhaps sensing he’s being watched, the man takes a tentative step towards the bridge. He clambers up over the fence, turns to look at the pub once more and then continues over the arch. After a few seconds, he is swallowed by the shadows of the trees.
‘I get the sense,’ Elaine says, ‘that we’ve not seen the last of whoever that was.’
Chapter Twenty
It’s not long before the endless, meaningless small talk becomes too much. I ask the barman to order me a taxi and then pay in cash for the driver to take me to the train station. It’s money from the envelope, of course.
By the time I’m almost home and hurrying along the street towards Hamilton House, it’s almost four p.m. The sky is already starting to look gloomy. Nick is on his way out of the front door but stops when he sees me.
‘Did you hear about Jade?’ he asks, breathlessly. He doesn’t wait for a reply, before continuing: ‘It’s shocking, isn’t it? I cried most of last night.’
‘I don’t know what to make of it,’ I reply – which is largely true.
‘It makes you think, doesn’t it?’ he adds, which is word for word what Karen said.
I agree that it makes people think and then he starts to pass me before stopping once more. ‘How’s Billy?’ he asks.
‘He was fine when I took him for a walk this morning.’
Nick winces slightly. ‘Judge has been a bit down for the past day or so. He’s sleeping a lot and only eating little bits. He’s stopped begging for food, which shows how poorly he is. I wondered if he might have picked up something from Billy, or vice versa?’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t think so. I’ll keep an eye on Billy and let you know if I see anything.’
He nods along and mutters the word ‘vet’. I pat him on the arm and say I’m sure it’ll all be fine – then he disappears off to wherever he was going.
When I get into the apartment, I head straight for Billy, who is lying in his own bed. He raises his head and looks at me with tired eyes. His new squeaky toy is drizzled with doggy saliva, next to his nose. At least one of us has been having fun today…
I pet his head and he rolls onto his side.
‘You all right, mate?’ I ask him.
He laps my hand gently and, though everything is fine on the surface, I get the sense that something isn’t quite okay. Billy rarely sleeps in his own bed and prefers, essentially, literally anything else. It could be that Nick has put the idea of illness in my mind and that I’m reading too much into his general sleepiness.
I continue to smooth his fur until he closes his eyes and then I empty the envelope of cash onto the table. I count it three times over until I’m certain of the amount. I sit and stare at the piles, trying to work out what’s happened because, somehow, I’ve blown through very close to £1,000 of someone else’s money in four days. There is the obvious stuff in front of me – the laptop, the shoes, and then… what? I gave Vicky some money for rent. Little things here and there.
Is this what it’s like to be rich? Money spends itself simply because it’s there?
When I barely had anything, I’d budget to every last penny and knew what everything cost. Now, in no time at all, it’s as if I’ve forgotten all that.
