A Dark Matter Episode 54

Jenny hung up. She had a flash of memory, looking at a coffin last night, thinking about climbing in. Standing in the low sunshine with Craig, the smell of him and the fuzz of booze taking her back 25 years.

Feeling alive again, something that didn’t happen often. And she thought about Liam throwing paint on to a canvas, making something out of nothing, and wondered if that’s how he felt when he did it, if he felt alive.

She drove the van through rush hour, took ages to get across to Leith, managed to find a parking space on Constitution Street and walked along Bernard Street.

She checked The King’s Wark first – no sign, then doubled back.

The streets were full of office workers walking home, another day nearer the grave for every one of them.

But they were smiling in the sunshine, wearing shades like it was Paris or Milan, the terror of a Scottish winter banished from their minds.

She walked up Maritime Street and into the vennel. She didn’t stop, just pushed at the door to the studios.

Security for this place was woeful.

Retreated

She crept to Liam’s studio and stood outside breathing. The door had been patched together at the lock where she’d booted it in.

She cocked her head and listened. A shuffle of feet inside, then a few moments later she heard him clear his throat.

She retreated to the cafe on the street, got a black coffee, poured in three sugars and waited.

She thought about Melanie. Was it Longhorn? Or this Bradley tutor guy, or the boyfriend?

Inappropriate pics, naked pictures and God knows what else.

So she had a boyfriend and was seeing her lecturer. If either of them found out about the other that might mean something.

The tutor was less likely, but maybe he was jealous of others getting a piece of her.

An hour later Liam came out of the vennel and walked along the road. Deja vu.

Jenny gulped down her third coffee and followed at a distance, her trainers scuffing the gutter. She followed him to The King’s Wark.

This time she walked round to the other entrance on The Shore and went in. And there he was at the bar, smiling, chatting to the same barmaid, sipping his pint, looking at the crossword.

Maybe Jenny would follow him forever, paid by Orla, end up having a symbiotic relationship with them, going wherever Liam went, taking money from Orla, reliant on their affluence and secrets for her livelihood.

A woman from a corner table got up and went to the bar next to Liam.

She was dressed in a short skirt and skimpy top, like she was out on the pull along Lothian Road on a Friday night.

Nobody went out on the pull in The King’s Wark on a Wednesday.

Maybe she was meeting friends and heading to town later, but still.

She was tall and slim, black hair in silky waves, a perfect figure in that black skirt, damn it.

Tanned legs that ended on big heels as she placed her tiny handbag on the bar and ordered from the cocktail menu.

Conversation

She turned and smiled at Liam, and he smiled back. Jenny shrank into her dark corner and widened her eyes.

The bombshell started a conversation and Liam joined in – what man in the world wouldn’t.

She was mid-twenties, not a baby but far too young for him. The body language said they didn’t know each other, but Jenny was no expert and maybe that was part of what was going on.

The woman touched her hair then tucked it behind her ear, and Liam straightened his posture in response, paying attention.

She wore a lot of lip gloss, eyelash extensions fluttering. Jenny couldn’t work out whether she was genuinely interested in him or just liked attention.

Liam leaned forwards when the woman’s mojito arrived and offered to pay for it. She accepted.

That meant a longer conversation, and the barmaid poured Liam another pint with raised eyebrows that Jenny understood.

The woman was making a play for him. It wasn’t completely unbelievable. Liam was handsome and well put together, but he was at least 10 years older than her, and hadn’t been on the lookout, was just sitting nursing his lager.

This never happened, except it was happening in front of Jenny’s eyes.

Jenny got her phone out and pretended to check social media as she zoomed in and took a few pictures of them chatting.

The woman sat on the barstool next to him and faced him. The way her skirt rode up her thighs when she leaned towards him drew the eye.

She was mirroring his body movements, touching her ear, lifting her drink, chin resting on the heel of her hand.

This was what pick-up artists did. Why was she pulling this stuff on a guy in a Leith pub?

Attention

They kept talking, drinking, mirroring, occasionally a laugh, but something was off.

Liam wasn’t responding the way she wanted. She had to reignite the conversation while he glanced down at his crossword.

The barmaid went to serve someone and Liam’s attention was grabbed for a moment before the dolly brought him back to her with a swish of hair and a waft of perfume.

He responded, but his smile was more polite than predatory.

She finished her mojito with a flourish and put the empty glass down like a challenge. He finished his pint, smiled warmly and stood up to leave.

She put a hand on his arm and he stood and listened while she leaned forwards and talked in his ear.

Then he calmly replied, removed her hand from his arm and walked away, out of the pub and into the evening sunshine.

The girl turned and smiled at Liam, and he smiled back. Jenny shrank into her dark corner and widened her eyes

More tomorrow.

A Dark Matter by Doug Johnstone is published by Orenda Books, as is Black Hearts, his latest in the same series. orendabooks.co.uk