The Liberation of Alice Love - Abby McDonald [110]
Alice sighed. “This one, you would have maybe taken home? Or—”
“Look, I told the cops everything I could.” He shrugged. “Anyway, there’s no chance it was just some girl ripping me off. The fuckers took everything. It was a gang, right. Professionals.”
“Yes, but—”
“Look, I ain’t got time for this.” Patrick started backing away. “Good luck with it, yeah?” He turned and jogged back to where his teammates were gulping sports drinks on the sidelines.
Alice began to walk back across the field, dejected. It had been a long shot, she knew, but still, she’d expected something to be revealed, a small gem of insight or information into Ella’s makings.
“Well?” Flora was perched on a park bench in the sun. She was wearing a pretty, gauzy white dress, with her hair in two thin plaits. “What’s the news?”
“No news.” Alice sat down beside her with a sigh. “He says he hasn’t seen her, but he would hardly even talk to me…”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “Busy, with the game. Also, I doubt it’s his finest moment—being defrauded like that.” Alice looked at the small figures, dashing around on the other side of the field. “He’s been telling himself it’s the work of a vast criminal network,” she told Flora. “I think to take the edge off. Nobody wants to admit it’s as easy as one woman and an old bank statement—it undermines their manly prowess, you know?”
Flora laughed. “Why don’t I try talking to him?”
Alice paused, smiling over at her. “That’s sweet of you to offer, but I don’t think it’ll help.”
“No, really, let me try,” Flora argued. “I can help, you know, with his manly prowess.”
Alice raised an eyebrow, but Flora made a knowing face. “Come on, it’s not like I’m exactly threatening.” She held up a braid in each hand as evidence.
Alice laughed. “Well…OK. Why not?” She looked back across the field. It wasn’t as if she had any better options, and if Flora could actually prompt him to reveal something… “But these will have to go, I think.” She reached over and began to undo Flora’s hair. “They do make you look, um, rather young.”
“I know.” She shrugged, apparently unconcerned, and started combing out the other plait. “Sometimes it’s just easier, looking fifteen. People don’t really expect anything from you.”
Before Alice could think more about that curious statement, Flora leaped up. “Wish me luck!”
“Good luck. And remember to ask him about anyone he invited home,” Alice added. “And if they—”
“Relax!” Flora laughed. She fluffed out her hair and quickly applied a slick of Vaseline to her lips. “I’ve been watching you do this all day.”
Alice watched her trot enthusiastically toward the football game. The match was under way again, with shouts and the frequent blast of the referee’s whistle drifting on the breeze, but clearly, the lure of Flora’s angelic visage was temptation enough for Patrick. All it took was a comment to one of the teammates, and within moments, he had been fetched from the field. She certainly had her skills, but as Alice waited, she wondered about that cryptic comment. Flora had been so upset by being left out of the Italy operation. She’d accused Alice of underestimating her, but on the other hand, there she was, happy to act young and helpless because it was just easier that way—to have people doting on her and doing everything in her place.
Soon, Flora was bounding back across the field. “Well?” Alice rose to greet her.
“What a wanker!” Flora exclaimed, screwing her face up in disdain. “He kept giving me these skeezy looks, like I was in my underwear or something. And when he asked me out for a drink, and I said I was married, he was all, ‘It’s not a death sentence.’”
“Sorry,” Alice apologized. “I should have warned you…”
“Oh no, it was fine.” Flora beamed. “Anyway, he seemed totally clueless, like you said, but there was one possibility. I talked Ella up like she was a dangerous spy or something—so he wouldn’t feel stupid—and he said there was one night in December he took a girl back but woke up the next morning with no memory at all, like he’d blacked