Part 15 (2/2)

'Something silly.' There was another silence, then he said, 'What's in the bag, Jake?'

Sally closed her eyes for a moment, put her head back and drew a slow, silent breath tried to get her heart to stop throwing itself against her ribcage. When she opened her eyes Jake was opening the bag and everything in the house had a vague silvery glaze, as if it was holding its breath too. Even the big clock on the conservatory wall seemed to hesitate, hold its hand still, reluctant to click forward.

Then Jake pulled a DVD out of the bag. He placed it on the table. David looked at it in silence. After a moment or two, he held out his hand.

'And the rest,' he said. 'Show me whatever else is in there. I ain't scared of you.'

'There's nothing. Just more of the same.'

David nodded. 'Yeah. Of course. Let me see.'

Jake held the bag out. David took it, gave it a shake, peered inside. Put his hands in and sifted around. He raised puzzled eyes to Jake, as if he still suspected him of something underhand. Jake shrugged. 'What? What now?'

David gave him a suspicious glare, but he handed the bag back. Sally slowly let out her breath. In her chest her heart was still bouncing around like a rubber ball.

'DVDs? What are they?'

'My latest venture.' Jake inched forward on his chair, suddenly enthusiastic. 'Jake the Peg's done every city in the UK I couldn't afford to take it out of the country so I had to look for something cheap and I thought, Hey, old man, how about Jake the Peg does the alphabet?'

'The alphabet?'

'A girl whose name starts with every letter of the alphabet. She wears the letter on her outfit here.' He put a hand to his stomach. 'I got one of those basque things and had a letter A st.i.tched on. A for Amber. B for Brittany. C for Cindi. We've got to F for Faith so far. Her real name was Veronica. But serious mahongas. The type they like in the States.'

'Shows a touching faith in your audience, boyo, thinking they know the alphabet.'

'If I put the letter on the spine they become a set a collection. The real fans'll want to have the whole lot A to Z on their shelves.'

David turned one of the DVDs over, studied the back. 'Very creative. But they do say that about you lot, don't they? Good with colours, wallpaper, soft furnis.h.i.+ngs, that sort of thing.'

'I need some start-up capital.'

'From me? Well, I would, my old friend, but they say bukkake doesn't sell any more. Did you know that? Apparently more women are watching p.o.r.n. Apparently they don't get off on seeing some slag getting w.a.n.ked over by twenty men. G.o.d knows why, it's a mystery to me, but you do hear the word ”degrading” bandied around, these days.'

Sally ma.s.saged her temples. So what she'd seen on the video had a name. Bukkake. Somehow it made it worse, to put a word to it, made it more real. No pretending she'd dreamed it.

'Course, maybe you could flog it to the gay market could be a new opening. I mean, it was always beyond me why any red-blooded male would want to watch a bunch of other men jacking off. Where's the hetero in that formula, eh?'

Jake ignored the dig. 'I was thinking we'd go forty:sixty. You put in the copying facility, the packaging and the marketing. I put in the product.'

David was still for a moment. 'Forty:sixty? Who's the forty?'

'You. Let them go out at six ninety-nine. The same strategy we had with the last series.'

David got to his feet. He went to the fridge and poured himself another gla.s.s of champagne. He closed the door and stood for a moment or two, his back to Jake, as if he was composing himself. Then he came back and sat down. 'Look, boyo, we had a falling-out the other day when you were here. I was rude, I grant you.'

'Yeah you were p.i.s.sed off.'

'p.i.s.sed off. That's right. And I told you not to come back. You chose to ignore that. So you must, I think, be asking yourself why the h.e.l.l I let you back in today. Aren't you?'

'I dunno. Maybe.'

'Let me explain. I opened the door to you for one reason. Curiosity. I'm a curious man, see, always have been. Used to love, as a child, going to the zoo. Nice family outing to see the monkeys playing with their p.e.c.k.e.rs, know what I mean? Used to be curious about that and I'm like that even now. For example, I'm intrigued by the amazing variety of things some of the Kosovan slags'll shove up their s.n.a.t.c.hes for a few euro. That, believe me, never fails to make me curious. And Jake, my old friend, that's why I'm welcoming you in here.'

'Because you're curious?'

David laughed expansively. He leaned over and slapped Jake on the knee. 'Oh, I love it I love your expression. You think I'm going to ask you to pull out your p.e.c.k.e.r like those monkeys, doncha? Or ram an onion up your jacksy? Don't worry I'm not going to ask you that, though I'm sure you would, you being a b.u.m-boy and all. No I've seen your legendary whanger enough times to satisfy that curiosity, eh? Like half of Britain. Sad your one-handed audience can't applaud, isn't it? Might make you feel better about yourself. No, Jake, I'm not curious about any of that. And yet I am still curious. Still curious ...'

'About what?' Jake blurted.

'About what the f.u.c.k f.u.c.k you were you were thinking thinking!' He rammed a finger hard into his temple. Spittle flew out of his mouth. 'Have you f.u.c.king lost lost it up here in old Mission Command, boyo, mincing back, trying to sell me my own f.u.c.king speciality? it up here in old Mission Command, boyo, mincing back, trying to sell me my own f.u.c.king speciality? I I'm the bukkake king, you queer piece of s.h.i.+t. I I'm the one got you started. I made made you, Jake. you, Jake. I. Made I. Made. You You.' He shook his head sorrowfully. Let out all his breath wearily and opened his hands as if he despaired. 'Honestly, Jake, if you had an extra brain it'd be lonely. Now, get the f.u.c.k out of my house. And this time don't come back.'

Jake stared at him.

'What're you f.u.c.king looking at? You deaf or something?' David slammed a fist on the table, making the DVDs rattle. Jake jumped to his feet and hastily swept the DVDs into the bag. Throwing it over his shoulder, he backed out towards the door, his hands up. David followed him as far as the hallway, then swung loosely around the banister and disappeared from Sally's view up the stairs.

Going for the crossbow. He had to be.

She got up and went quietly to the door. Jake was outside on the gravel, patting his coat, trying to find his keys, glancing anxiously at David, who had come downstairs and was standing a few feet away in the suns.h.i.+ne, his back to her, the crossbow raised. She looked across the kitchen to the utility room just ten feet to cover, then she'd be out. She was about to scamper across when there was a loud thwack and a bolt was fired. A fountain of gravel spurted into the air about ten feet away on the driveway near the jeep. Jake put his hands in the air defensively.

'What's wrong, boyo?' David called pleasantly. 'Still struggling with the meaning of ”f.u.c.k off”?'

In an act of defiance, Jake stooped, s.n.a.t.c.hed up a handful of gravel, and threw it at him. Then, before David could react, he was in the jeep, powering up the driveway, the automatic gates swinging open to let him go. And Jake was gone, the b.u.t.terfly flash of his jeep b.u.mping along the tiny lane that wound down to the road.

David trudged back into the house. Immediately he caught sight of Sally shrinking back into the atrium.

'What're you staring at?' He glanced over his shoulder as if there might be someone else in the hallway who was making her gawp like that. 'What? So I lost my temper. Don't get all weepy on me, Princess if you hadn't been c.u.n.ting around with my private affairs I wouldn't've been so p.i.s.sed off in the first place.'

Sally gaped at him, lost for words. Her face was on fire. She was thinking about the girl in the video, strapped to the floor.

'What?' His chin jutted forward aggressively. 'Don't give me that f.u.c.king superior-b.i.t.c.h look I'm fed up with seeing it. You stand here in my my house judging me? Well, there's a simple solution to that. You f.u.c.k off. If you don't like it, then just f.u.c.k right off.' house judging me? Well, there's a simple solution to that. You f.u.c.k off. If you don't like it, then just f.u.c.k right off.'

She was still for a moment longer. Then she turned on her heel and began to walk towards the utility room. 'You b.a.s.t.a.r.d,' she muttered, under her breath.

'I beg your pardon?'

She shook her head. Kept walking.

'You'll apologize for that,' he yelled behind her. 'You'll f.u.c.king apologize.'

She got to the door of the utility room. Mercifully it opened smoothly and she was out in the sun, her bag over her shoulder, her jacket bundled up in the cleaning kit. She was trembling but she didn't run, just went fast and steady, her head up and straight, ferreting around with one hand in her bag for her keys. She could hear him behind her. Also not running. But keeping pace.

'I said apologize apologize. Say it. Tell you what, I'll make it easy for you give you the script. ”I'm truly sorry, David, for calling you a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I'm sorry.” Just say it and it's over.'

As she got to the bottom of the path and swung the little gate open, the keys in her bag suddenly seemed to leap into her hand. Thank you, thank you, thank you, she thought, hoisting them out and aiming them at the car. The locking system beeped and clunked rea.s.suringly; the indicators flashed. The gap from the parking area to the gate was only a few yards. As soon as she was in the car she'd be fine.

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