Trust Me (Trust Me, Find Me 1)

“He’s a nice guy.”

She giggles then screws her nose up at me.

“But, d’you think he might be a player?”

I pull a face at that.

“So, why’s he always so secretive on his phone, then? If he’s not talking to other girls?”

“No! Jac would’ve said.”

I’m certain he’s not seeing anyone else. But she’s right; I don’t know him that well, either.

Claire sighs, then stands to get out of the jacuzzi.

“I’m not sure it’s going anywhere. Shame though.”

“‘Cos you like him?”

“Yeah, that. And, ‘cos he’s got a very nice ass.”

???

Sion spent a third day studying his mark.

Mid-thirties with a wide-boy look. He had a flashy sports car and he wore dark sunglasses even though it was pouring with rain.

Sion sat all day in the back of a hired blacked-out van studying his movements.

He’d come outside on his phone every now and then; having a stretch, a fag, getting something from his car. Most days, he’d walked to the parade of shops in the middle of this large council estate, returning some fifteen minutes later with more cigarettes or a bottle of pop in his hand.

Even though it was Friday morning, a string of school-age kids on bikes had been coming and going through the day. Delivery mules. He was obviously dealing. And he was raking in the cash, judging by the number of visits he was getting.

At five, a moped rocked up. Dinner had arrived. Pizza by the look of it.

Then, at about eight p.m. the man left the house and Sion followed, watching from the shadows as he disappeared into a rough-looking sports bar by the parade of shops.

Sion reached into his jacket, answering a burner phone vibrating in the pocket.

It was his handler.

“Go-ahead with the hit. Intel says the Scousers are a tad tetchy after the London raids. The hit’ll take the heat off you.”

???

“You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

It’s our first day out since lambing started, and we’re sitting on a bench on the Aberystwyth seafront, eating fish and chips from the paper with a chip fork.

The spring sunshine warms my back.

There are groups of university students out too with a sunny determination to enjoy the first few spring rays by the beach, despite the chilly April breeze.

“This is the life.”

Jac stretches his legs out and scrunches up the empty greasy paper into a ball.

“Ah! He’s got it.”

An arctic skua wheels into the sea, stealing a fish from a tern.

“Cheeky beggar.”

I finish my chips.

“It is nice to get out.”

He puts our papers into the bin beside the bench we’re sitting on.

“You and me, we’ve never been on a date.”

“What about the Cross Keys?”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Those hundreds of woolly babies we have might put paid to date-night, any time soon.”

A quick stop like this, when we get supplies, is the most we can hope for.

“I promise, Annie, I’ll take you out properly once we’re finished lambing.”

“Sounds good, ‘cos all my free labour’s gonna cost you. Big time.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. At least a weekend in Paris? Or… Prague?”

“How about Porthmadog?”

I shove my elbow into his ribs.

“Jac, you need to go out with the boys too.”

He puts his arm around me.

“I will. But right now, I’m enjoying our early nights in.”

A crowd of students approach, sauntering up the promenade, giggling together about something.

“Let’s go.”

Jac jumps up off the bench, lowering his baseball cap and lifting his jacket collar.

“You cold?”

“A bit… Sun’s in my eyes.”

“Hey! Jac! How you doin’?”

One of the girls calls over to us, as I’m standing up to go.

She’s blonde and wearing denim cutaway hot pants with thick black tights and boots.

Jac turns towards her.

“Uh... good, ta.”

He shifts uncomfortably, “This is my girlfriend, Annie.”

I put on a smiley face, even though an icy shiver is shooting right through me. She’s pretty. Taller than me. And quite a few years younger.

Jac coughs.

“Nice to see you… uh… Jo.”

“It’s Jen.”

“Sorry, yeah, Jen.”

“Hey! We better get going.”

He hastily makes to leave, taking my hand and dragging me away with him.

She’s all smiles as she moves quickly away too, re-joining her friends who’ve walked on.

“Who was that?”

She’s laughing with another girl, now she’s checking her phone.

We walk along the beachfront towards our truck. Without speaking.

“I met her one night when I was out,” he mutters, breaking the moody silence.

“When?”

I stop and watch his eyebrows furrowing.

“When you were in London.”

“What?”

“I thought we were all over. I was drunk, and she came on to me. At the club on the pier. Nothing happened. Honest. Except I missed my taxi and

Sion had to pick me up the next day.”

He adds a little nervously, “Ask Sion if you want. I spent a freezing cold night on a bench in a bus shelter.”

“Good... I hope you froze your nuts off.”

He sniggers and I huff, walking on.

“Annie?”

Catching me up, he goes off in front, jogging backwards to face me.

I stop and stare out to sea, refusing to engage.

He grabs both my hands and I can feel his dark eyes on me.

“We good?”

Are we good? It’s a fair question.

Slowly my eyes lift towards his, and the fear I can see clouding them immediately douses my smouldering jealousy. It’s painful, but I swallow my wounded pride.

He squeezes my hands.

“Annie, please.”

I hear his voice catch, extinguishing the final embers of anger.

Stretching up, I find his lips.

“Thanks.”

“What for?”

He looks a little surprised.

“For not spinning me some bullshit line. For telling me the truth.”

“Yeah, well, she made me realise I was still in love with you. Which was a bugger at the time ‘cos you hated my guts… Again.”

I can’t be jealous after that.

I really like that girl.

CHAPTER 19

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It was after eleven when Sion lay flat back on his bed in the small budget hotel. It was not the kind of room you wanted to do more than sleep in.

As he lay there, he reflected on his contact’s words. What did he mean when he’d said that the Scousers were ‘tetchy’ and that the job would ‘take the heat off him’?

Did that mean that the heat was on him? And what did it mean to have the heat on you, anyway?

It was probably just sloppy wording, but it bothered him.

He checked his phone, Claire was online. He clicked to chat, and she came on immediately.

“Hey!”

“Hey.”

“You okay? You sound flat.”

Claire yawned, stretching her arms above her head.

“Just tired, that’s all. Kev was drinking with his Scally pals and left me to rush around like a blue-arsed fly, taking orders and serving on the bar. What’ve you been up to?”