Laura Page 15

  “Grab your coats!” Elliot's voice adds.

  “Already wearing mine,” I hear myself saying. God, is that really what my voice sounds like?

  “After the week I've had,” Jonathan mutters, “I could use a drink or two.”

  “Come on, then!” Sophie shouts. “Last one out the front door has to buy the first round!”

  “Help me,” Laura groans, with the sound of more waves crashing against rocks in the background. “Please, I'm at the beach, just call an -”

  With that, the call ends mid-sentence. I want to tell Elliot that there's clearly no reason to be worried, but I can see from the look in his eyes that he genuinely thinks Laura was in trouble.

  “Am I really that nasal?” I ask.

  I wait for Elliot to reply, but now he's looking toward the rocks again.

  “Come on, man,” I say finally, “it's nothing! She's always been a drama queen, right? Ignore the whole thing!”

  “But -”

  “This is what she wants,” I add. “She wants us to be worrying about her, and talking about her, and generally fussing about where she is. She wants to be the center of attention all the time, and you're falling into her trap. Sure, she's changed her tactics a little and gone for something pretty huge, but it's still a big fat lie.” I take another drag on my cigarette. “And I for one do not intend to waste my morning running around after Laura. Are you coming back to the house, or do you want me to leave you here?”

  “Fine,” he mutters, and we turn to start walking back along the road. “I just keep thinking about the fear in her voice.”

  “Give it a few days,” I reply. “Girls like that always find somewhere to sleep.”

  Glancing over my shoulder, I look out at the rough sea for a moment, and then I turn and take another drag from my cigarette.

  “She'll wash up eventually,” I continue. “She's just at some guy's house. Frankly, I hope she stays away this time. That girl's more trouble than she's worth. If she's really gone this time, we should be celebrating, not chasing after her.”

  I wait for Elliot to agree with me, to tell me I'm right as usual, but he seems really bothered about something.

  “So my voice doesn't sound that nasal, does it?” I ask, taking another puff on my cigarette. “Seriously, it doesn't. Not in real life. Does it?”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Today

  Stepping into the bar, I stop for a moment and take a look around. It's almost 9pm, and the live band is already setting up at the far end, but there aren't too many people here so far. I don't see any sign of the mysterious L, although after a moment I make my way to the next door and peer into the side-room, and I can't help smiling as soon as I see a girl sitting alone at one of the tables.

  It's her.

  She's actually here.

  I was half expecting this to be a joke, and for her to stand me up, but she's here.

  And she's wearing that same dark dress with the zipper that runs all the way down the front. Man, would I like to take that zipper and...

  Spotting me, she smiles and waves. I reciprocate, before heading to the bar to get a drink. I've got to admit, L already looks much prettier than I'd guessed from the murky photos, and I'm worried I might be out of my depth. Then again, she's the one who was keen to meet up, so I guess I should try to have a little confidence. As I wait for my beer, I look at my reflection in the mirror behind the bar, and I take a moment to make my hair look a little more messy.

  Girls like that, apparently.

  Maybe I just happen to be her type.

  “Hey, Nick,” L says a couple of minutes later, as I reach her table. “You came. I was worried you wouldn't.”

  “I'd never stand a lady up,” I tell her, taking a seat.

  She immediately laughs, and it's a happy, genuine laugh. She seems to have a really bubbly personality, although I'm surprised to see that she's wearing a lot of make-up. I remember the bright red lipstick from last night, but now I see that she has thick fake eyelashes, as well as plenty of black mascara and a whole lot of make-up all over her cheeks. Frankly, she looks like something of a painted lady, and it's clear that her jet-black hair is dyed rather than being natural. I don't think I've ever seen anyone wear so much make-up, with the possible exception of one of my aunts, but I guess I shouldn't be too picky.

  Besides, the look kind of suits her.

  “I've got to admit,” I say with a smile, as I take a sip of beer, “I don't remember every last detail from last night. Some of it's pretty hazy.”

  “No kidding. You did seem a little tipsy.”

  She takes a sip from her bright green cocktail.

  “I hope I wasn't too drunk,” I tell her. “I hope I didn't behave in an ungentlemanly fashion.”

  She giggles.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You just sound so old-fashioned. You sound like a really straight-up guy.”

  “I try my best,” I reply, unable to stifle a chuckle. “Is that something you like?”

  She sips at her drink again, while eyeing me with a calm stare.

  “I don't think I've seen you around,” I continue, trying to get a casual conversation started. “I'm sure I'd have remembered.”

  “You're good with faces, are you?”

  “When they're as beautiful as yours.”

  She giggles again. That line could have ended up sounding corny, but she seems to have liked it.

  “I'd definitely have remembered you,” I add. “I mean, no doubt about it!”

  “Well, I remember you,” she replies.

  “You do?” I wait for her to explain, but once again she seems content to simply stare at me. “So you've spotted me in town before?”

  She nods. “A while back.”

  “But we hadn't spoken until last night?”

  “It's complicated.”

  I open my mouth to ask what she means, but suddenly I'm struck by the realization that maybe she does look a little familiar after all. I can't put my finger on it, but I have a vague feeling that I might have seen her before. She seems to be about my age, underneath all that caked-on make-up.

  Suddenly she giggles again, seemingly for no reason.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing, just...” She stares at me for a moment. “Are you, like, some kind of eternal student?”

  “I...”

  Hesitating, I can't help wondering what she means.

  “You showed me your university ID card last night,” she continues. “You seemed very proud of it.”

  “Right.” I nod. “No, I'm not a student. Not anymore. After graduating, I got a job in a different university's careers office, here in London.”

  “So you never really left school?”

  “It's a good job. It pays.”

  “Huh. So instead of taking your degree and turning it into a career, you took a job where you advise students and tell them how to take their degrees and get a career?”

  Looking down at my beer for a moment, I feel a faint, embarrassed smile creep across my face. Clearly, this L girl doesn't understand the importance of my work.

  “I'm not criticizing,” she continues. “I just thought it was funny, that's all.”

  “So, L,” I reply, turning to her again, “what does the L stand for? What's your actual name?”

  “You don't remember?”

  “I was a little the worse for wear last night.”

  “Huh.” She smiles. “Well, take a guess.”

  “There aren't many names that begin with L.”

  “I guess not.”

  I wait for her to tell me, but she seems determined to turn this into a game.

  “Well,” I continue, “I suppose...”

  I pause.

  “Laura?” I suggest finally, although deep down I really hope that I'm wrong. That's not a name that holds good memories for me.

  “Huh,” she replies. “Could be. Could not be. There are other L names. Louise. Lorraine. Lucy. I think
I'll leave you in the dark for a while longer.”

  “Like a game?” I ask.

  She giggles. “I guess so!”

  Staring at her, I can't help noticing that she looks a little like the old Laura from years ago. Not completely like her, but enough to make me feel just a tad distracted for a few seconds. When she smiles, however, I see with a flash of relief that her smile is nothing like Laura's.

  “Does something about me freak you out?” she asks.

  “No. Why should it?”

  “Dunno. I just wondered, from the look on your face.”

  She takes another sip from her cocktail, while keeping her gaze firmly fixed on me.

  Looking down at my beer, I can't help feeling that this date – if it was even a date to begin with – is rapidly becoming pretty awkward. L seems to be the kind of girl who's difficult to keep up with, and frankly I find that exhausting. I'm starting to think that I should be polite and then head off to a different bar by myself, and just drink a few pints before going home alone. I'm a simple guy and I like simple dates.

  “We should make this a big night,” she says suddenly, reaching under the table and taking hold of my hand. “Let out hair down. Have some fun.”

  “I'm not sure that I -”

  “Come on,” she adds with a giggle. “You know what fun is, right? How about having some with me?”

  I open my mouth to tell her that I'm tired, but somehow I can't get the words out. I guess I don't have the guts to turn down a hot, happy girl.

  “Sure,” I reply. “What do you want to do?”

  “Something huge!” she continues. “Something that reminds us of when we were young!”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Ten years ago

  “No-one's seen or heard from Laura since the weekend.”

  Turning, I find that once again Elliot has caught up to me. I'd hoped to wander home from uni without any interruptions, but I swear this guy seems to always pop up from somewhere. We're almost at the house, and I wouldn't mind a nap before heading to the pub.

  “Isn't Sophie with you?” I ask.

  “Sophie's at the library,” he continues, sounding a little breathless. “Listen, I'm worried. Laura seems to have completely disappeared.”

  “That sounds...” I try to think of the right word. “That sounds pretty okay, to be honest.”

  “We need to go to the police.”

  “Why would we do that?”

  “You heard her on that call!” He starts taking his phone from his pocket. “I just -”

  “I don't need to hear it again,” I tell him, taking a drag on my cigarette. “This is all just Laura's way of -”

  “I know you think she's playing with us,” he replies, interrupting me, “but I'm completely serious! She wouldn't take it this far!”

  I push the garden gate open and head toward the door, while fishing in my pocket for my keys.

  “I know Laura can be irritating,” Elliot continues, “but she's a human being! She's our friend, or she was! We have a duty to tell the police if we think something might have happened to her.”

  “Then go and tell them.”

  “You have to come with me!”

  I can't help chuckling as I unlock the door and step into the house. He's being very insistent about this, and I don't quite understand why. “There's no way I'm lifting a finger for that -”

  Stopping suddenly, I see that clothes and books have been left all over the floor at the bottom of the stairs. I'm used to the house being a mess from time to time, but this seems different somehow. Stepping over to the nearest door, I look into the front room. Sure enough, the TV has been overturned and smashed, and all the cushions have been pulled from the chairs. It looks as if somebody has ransacked the entire house.

  “What the hell?” Elliot stammers, from over my shoulder. “Have we been burgled?”

  ***

  “It's at times like this,” I mutter, as I sit in the front room and roll another cigarette, “that I'm glad I don't have anything work stealing.”

  “They left my PlayStation,” Lynn replies, pouring herself another glass of wine. “It seems like they were only after smaller things. Jewelry, items that might have personal value.”

  “Are you sure you should be drinking that?” I ask, as I hold my glass up for her to refill. “You've been out of hospital for, what, a day?”

  “I need something,” she says, taking a sip from her glass once she's refilled mine. “This past week has been getting crazier and crazier. The booze helps me feel more sober. Funny that, huh?”

  Hearing the door swing open, I look up just in time to see Sophie coming into the room. There are tears in her eyes, and she looks utterly shocked by something.

  “You alright?” I ask, taking a sip of wine.

  “The bastards took my grandfather's medals,” she replies, her voice trembling as if she might burst into tears at any moment. “You know those medals of his from the Second World War? The ones I brought here because I wanted to draw them for a project? The bastard tore my room apart, but the only thing he took was the medals. Was kind of sick asshole would do something like that?”

  “That sucks,” I tell her. “Have a glass of wine. We've got more in the kitchen.”

  She takes a seat opposite, and I can see that she's trembling with anger. After a moment, a fresh tear trickles down her cheek.

  “It was her,” she sneers finally.

  “Who do you -”

  “It was Laura!” she says firmly, fixing me with a teary-eyed stare. “Don't even try to deny it! She knew about those medals! She must have come back here while we were all out, and she stole anything she thought she could take to really hurt us! That's exactly the kind of thing she'd do!”

  I can't help sighing. “You don't know that it was -”

  “I've told the police,” she continues. “They said they'll talk to her. Of course, they'll have to find her first. This feels like the kind of thing someone does before they skip town, though, doesn't it? Like a last middle finger to us all. A way of saying goodbye.” She dabs at her eyes with a piece of scrunched-up toilet paper. “When I get my hands on that cow, I'm going to make her pay. And if she doesn't give me those medals back, I'm going to...”

  She hesitates, clearly fuming with anger.

  “I'm going to kill her!” she hisses finally.

  “Might be too late for that,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “Your boyfriend thinks something might have happened to her.”

  “My what?”

  “Elliot.”

  “Elliot's not my boyfriend,” she spits back at me. “You don't know what you're talking about.”

  Lynn and I exchange an amused glance, just as the front door swings shut in the hallway. A moment later, Elliot steps into view, with the police having apparently departed.

  “What did they say?” Sophie asks, getting to her feet. “They're going to go and arrest her, yeah?”

  “They want to talk to her,” he replies cautiously, “but first they have to find her. I told them about the call she made last night, and about how she sounded so upset. I even played it to them. They're going to start poking around to see where she is. They agreed with me that it sounded like she might be in danger.”

  “They're worried about the bitch?” Sophie asks, raising her eyebrows in shock. “Seriously? They need to haul her in and get our goddamn stuff back from her!”

  “First they need to find her,” he points out. “She might be in danger. She might -”

  “Leave it out,” she mutters, pushing past him and hurrying out of the room. “You can be a real wet blanket sometimes, Elliot.”

  Once she's gone, Elliot seems almost frozen, as if he's not sure what to do. I think that might have been the first time I've ever heard Sophie snap at him, and he looks completely stunned.

  “She left my weed and coke,” Lynn mutters. “Thank God for that. If it was Laura, wouldn't she have taken my stash? She knows I keep it behind that loose pa
nel in the door.”

  “Maybe that's not what she was after,” I suggest, still watching Elliot.

  A moment later, Sophie's door slams shut upstairs.

  “Hopefully this means she's gone, at least,” Lynn mutters, taking another sip of wine. “Frankly, I'll be very happy if she never shows up again.”

  “Nah,” I reply, leaning back in the creaking armchair and putting my feet up on the coffee table. “Mark my words. We haven't seen the last of that little trouble-maker. It might not happen today, and it might not happen tomorrow, but eventually she'll wash up somewhere. Girls like that always do.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Today

  “Oh man!” I splutter, leaning against the door to my apartment as I fumble to find the key. “Did you see their faces in that last bar? They couldn't believe the way we were dancing!”

  “I'll have you know,” L replies behind me, giggling slightly, “that I'm a very fine dancer. Now are you going to get that door open, or are we going to freeze to death out here?”

  “Hang on,” I mutter, finally finding the right key. It takes a moment longer, but I get the door open and stumble into the hallway, and then I hear the door swing shut behind me.

  “Nice place,” L says, pushing past and heading toward the front room. “A bit of a man-cave. I can't believe you still have movie posters on your walls. I thought you said you were in your thirties now!”

  “Some of them are very artistic,” I reply, struggling to get my jacket off. I'm drunk, I know that, but I don't want to act drunk. This is the first time in years that I've managed to get a girl back to my apartment, and I'm damn well not going to waste the opportunity.

  “How many DVDs do you have?” L asks, stepping into the next room. “There must be thousands here!”

  “It's a pretty impressive collection,” I admit with a smile, as I stumble after her.

  “Are they all in alphabetical order?”

  “They most certainly are.” Stopping in the doorway, I watch as she heads over to take a look. She's stumbling a little too, most likely due to all those cocktails she kept knocking back. Frankly, I'm impressed that she's still standing at all. “I thought about dividing them up based on genre,” I continue, “and I actually spent one Sunday doing just that, but it didn't feel right so I spent the next Sunday putting them back the way you see them now.”