Page 49 of A Face in the Crowd
‘I’ll see ya around,’ Daff says. She ruffles Billy’s ears, gives me a small wave and then bounds off along the street.
There are more sideways glances and illicit photos on the bus. I’ll be an Instagram star without even knowing it. Or, more to the point, Billy will. #BuggyDog #BuggyDogOnABus #BusDog
By the time the bus pulls up close to Hamilton House, Billy is straining against the straps, so I let him out to walk on the pavement alongside me. He’s still slower than usual and there’s none of the curiosity he would usually have for lamp posts, walls and bushes – but the fact he’s walking is such an improvement.
After reading the news stories about Jade, I half expect there to be reporters or police hanging around outside the building – but there’s no one. I can’t help but notice the poster on the lamp post about the item lost on the bus. There’s another taped to a pillar on the opposite side of the road, almost as if they’re breeding.
Upstairs and Billy finishes his water in one go. I refill the bowl for him, but he’s already stomping circles in his bed, trying to get comfortable. The vet bills were a little over £100 and, even if it was my own money, I’d have found a way to pay it.
I sit with him on the floor for a little while, but he shrugs me away, wanting to be left to himself. This is the Billy I know and love. Friendliness is one thing – but affection and sleep do not mix. Or friendliness andhissleep. He’s fine injecting himself into my rest times.
Leaving him be, I park myself on the sofa and open the laptop. Mynewlaptop, bought with someone else’s money. I open my email, type in the address from the poster and sit staring at the blank space. This is the test of who I am and I want to be a good person. My fingers tremble as I hover over the keys.
Hi. I found your money. Do you want it back?
There’s a moment in which I almost hit send, but then I read back the line and instantly delete it. My next attempt isn’t much better:
Hi. I found what you lost. Do you want it back?
I run through half-a-dozen terrible variations until settling on something far simpler.
Hi. I take the same bus as you. What is it you lost?
I read this new version over and then send it from my second email account. It’s the one I use to sign up for things online so that all the spam ends up in one place, while emails that actually matter arrive elsewhere. More importantly, the alternate address does not have my real name attached to it.
That done, I send a quick text to Harry, asking how he is. I’ve barely finished doing that when Annie’s name flashes onto the screen as an incoming call. The last time we saw each other, I had essentially dumped her in a graveyard to talk to Gloria instead.
I’m nervous as I press to answer, expecting some sort of unease that doesn’t come. Instead, Annie offers a chipper: ‘Hey, hun!’
We go back and forth and she asks how things are going. I tell her about Billy being ill and she offers the expected sympathy before breezily moving onto the real reason for calling.
‘Do you mind if I ask what you talked to Gloria about?’ she says.
Far from being awkward, it feels like a relief that she’s asked. ‘Not much,’ I say. ‘It was all a bit strange. She asked if I’d made any money after the crash. When I said that Ben and I weren’t married and that I hadn’t, she went quiet and dashed away.’
‘Hmm…’ Annie takes a moment and then adds: ‘She just called me with the same thing.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Something to do with a TV documentary that she’s trying to pull together.’
Annie waits, as if expecting me to chime in – but I have no idea how to respond. It is far from what I might have expected.
‘I think there’s a production company involved,’ Annie adds. ‘They’re trying to get her to sweeten us all up so that they have some idea of who might want to work with them.’
‘Why didn’t she tell me that?’ I ask. ‘All she did was run off.’
Annie lets out a dismissivepfft. ‘Apparently Gloria’s been talking to everyone – but only as individuals. You know what she’s like: A complete nutter.’
I don’t say that I’m not sure what Gloria is like. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to her properly before the memorial.
Annie continues: ‘One of the others reckons there’s a budget from the production company. She’s trying to figure out how much she’ll have to offer people to appear. If someone got a bit insurance pay-out, they might do it for less – that sort of thing. If she can get a load of people on board for lower fees, she’ll get more herself. She’s been banking on none of us talking to each other.’
‘Has anyone signed up?’
‘I don’t know. Not that I’ve heard. I do have a second reason for calling you, though.’
She sounds reluctant in saying that.
