Hanging Hill - Mo Hayder [52]
‘Yeah, what?’
‘He’s followed us. He’s here.’
‘Who?’
‘The guy in the jeep. Jake. That’s his name. Jake.’
Millie jolted at that. She got to her feet and stood for a moment, half frozen, not knowing which way to go.
‘It’s OK.’ Sally crept to the doorway and put her head into the gap, peering down the corridor. She could just see the hallway – a huge, galleried atrium with a central staircase done in granite and marble with black and white tiles on the floor. Jake was near the front door. His ebony hair was gelled into spikes, his distressed jeans and T-shirt showing off his muscles and the trim line of his belly.
‘He’s in the house,’ she whispered into the phone. ‘Don’t worry – he’s in the hall at the front. He can’t see you.’
She held the phone to her chest and cautiously leaned out of the doorway again to watch him. He seemed smaller and much less confident now he wasn’t in his car. He kept bending a little to crane his neck up the stairs to see where David had disappeared to.
Sally ducked back into the office. ‘I’m not sure what he’s up to,’ she hissed. ‘It’s weird – maybe he’s here just to see David. Go and hide somewhere – somewhere in the trees where he won’t see you from the back of the house. I’ll call you as soon as I know something.’
The noise of a door closing upstairs echoed down the stairs. Sally ended the call and jerked her head back through the door. Jake was still in the hall, tightening his belt, pulling his shoulders back, watching David come along the landing.
‘Jake! Jake the Peg!’ David smiled expansively from the top of the stairs. He was wearing a well-cut white shirt over jeans. His feet were bare as he padded down, his arms open as if greeting a long-lost friend. He stopped a few stairs from the bottom and sat so he was a little above Jake’s eye level, forcing him to look up. ‘It’s been too long. How’s things? How’s the extra leg, mate?’ He held his hands at his crotch to mime an enormous phallus. ‘Still getting out and about, is it? Making lots of new friends?’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ Jake nodded nervously. He folded his arms tight across his chest, his hands tucked under them. ‘Everything’s wicked. Ticking over. Had a bit of a business proposal and thought I’d – y’know – drop in. Talk to you about it.’
‘Yeah – I saw you “dropping in”. I’ll be honest – I was a bit taken aback you’d think I had the same gate code six months on. Thought that was a bit disrespectful, but … you know how I am. Never dwell on things. If you feel at home enough to plug my code into my gate, after not seeing me in all this time, I reckoned that means you just feel comfortable around me.’ He took a toothpick from his pocket and began studiously picking his teeth, his hand over his mouth, his eyes on Jake. ‘So, Jakey, Jakey, Jakey, my extra-legged boy, Jake. What you bin up to, boyo? Just, from time to time you do hear some stupid rumours. Last I heard you were up to a bit of jiggery-pokery with the old no-no stuff. Selling it on to the rich kids – hanging around outside the posh schools, like a lonely turd in a lake, or so I’ve heard. Course I never listen to that nonsense, cos I’m sure it ain’t true.’
‘Nah …’ Jake shifted anxiously. ‘Course it ain’t.’
‘So how you bringing home the corn, these days, then, matey boy? Now that you’re not cracking off the money shots for me?’
‘Oh, you know. Been – doing my thing. Hoeing my row.’
David made a small sound in his throat as if he found this incredibly funny. He had to put a finger to his head and bend slightly at the waist to stop himself laughing like a horse.
‘What?’
‘Nothing. It’s just