‘So how did you learn this technique?’
‘Technique? I used to decorate the youth club walls. That’s about it. Kept me out of trouble. For all of about five minutes.’
‘Look. Do you want
to come down? I haven’t got anything in the way of food but I could take you out for brunch if you like. I’ve got toothpaste, and—’
‘So have I. I’m not some kind of wild man. But I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘I can’t leave here.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because if I leave this house, I’m as good as dead.’
Jenna, who had been growing in confidence in her dealings with this unexpected guest, was reduced once more to heart-fluttering anxiety.
‘What? Why?’
‘People out to get me. Bad people, you dig?’
‘People …are trying to kill you?’
‘Yeah, if it comes to it. I’m in hiding.’
‘But … well … surely, the police? Or someone ought to be dealing with these people?’
He laughed bitterly. ‘You’ve been out of Bledburn a long time, haven’t you? It isn’t the police in charge of things round here. No jobs, no futures – everyone’s a dopehead or a dope dealer and most are both. If I go to the police, I’m deader than dead and, besides, they’ll have an easy arrest in me. They won’t go looking for the real bad boys. They’re scared to.’
‘Surely not. It’s their job.’
‘I told you, love. This is Bledburn.’
‘You make it sound like the wild frontier. And don’t call me “love”.’
‘Look, it’s rough around here. I know. And I haven’t exactly been an angel myself, but I’ve tried to keep my head down and steer clear of the really bad stuff. Sometimes the really bad stuff comes and finds you, though. And that’s what’s happened to me.’
‘I see.’
‘You’re going to call the Feds, aren’t you?’
He bent again, as if about to retrieve his knife.
‘No,’ she said hurriedly. ‘No, I’m not. Unless you persist in calling them “Feds”, because it really irritates me. This is England, you know. Call them what they are. And I’d like to call you by your name. What is it?’
’I’m not telling you my name. But everyone calls me Leonardo.’
‘How fitting.’
‘Yeah, well, most people ask me if it’s after the Ninja Turtle. Or DiCaprio. But it’s after the artist.’
‘I thought it might be. You have such a talent. You could make a name for yourself. Your own name, not someone else’s.’
‘In another life,’ he said bleakly.
‘Oh, there must be a way.’
‘Trust me. There isn’t.’
‘How have you been living here? What have you been living on?’ She looked around her. There were no signs of cooking apparatus, or supplies.