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  ‘He did?’ I throw a surprised look at William and get flat-out ignored. ‘That was thoughtful.’

  The strapping man rises from the bed and dips to kiss my grandmother’s cheek, and she accepts on a fond smile, lifting her hand and patting William’s arm. ‘Do you still have plenty of credit?’ he asks.

  ‘Oh yes!’ Nan scoops up a remote control and points it at the television. It springs to life and Nan settles back in her chair. ‘Marvellous piece of equipment! Did you know I can watch any episode of EastEnders from the last month at the touch of a button?’

  ‘Incredible,’ William agrees, flicking his smile to me.

  I’m stunned into silence as I watch Nan and her daughter’s ex-pimp converse like family. William Anderson, the lord of the underworld, doesn’t look like he’s shaking in his boots right now. And Nan doesn’t look like her spunk is about to be unleashed on the man who sent her daughter away. What does she know? Or what has William told her? They don’t look like there has ever been any animosity or bad feelings between them. They look comfortable and cosy. I’m confused.

  ‘I’d best be off now.’ William’s soft announcement breaks into my conflicting thoughts and puts me back in the stifling hospital ward. ‘Be good, Josephine.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ Nan huffs, waving him away with a flap of her hand. ‘If they set me free tomorrow, I’ll be an angel.’

  William laughs, his liquid grey eyes sparkling affectionately at my beloved grandmother. ‘Your freedom banks on it. I’ll pop in later.’ His tall body turns to me and his smile widens at my evident bemusement. ‘Ted will be back to collect you once he’s dropped me at the Society. He’ll drive you home.’

  The mention of William’s establishment halts my instinct to refuse as flashbacks of the opulent club start to creep to the front of my mind, making me clench my eyes shut in an attempt to halt them. ‘Fine,’ I mutter, standing and plumping the redundant pillow on the bed so I don’t have to confront the stern look that’s pointed at me for any longer than I have to. The chime of my iPhone is timed perfectly, allowing me to re-focus my attention on seeking out my mobile once I’m done toying with the pillow.

  It’s polite to answer someone when they ask you a question.

  I should just go home and escape to the sanctuary of my bed, where no one can find me or aggravate me. ‘Olivia, sweetheart, are you OK?’ Nan’s concerned question leaves me no option but to force a smile.

  ‘I’m fine, Nan.’ Dropping my phone carelessly without replying, I disregard the further reprimands my ignorance will likely spike and make myself comfortable on the bed again. ‘So, home tomorrow or Friday, then?’

  Relief floods me when Nan’s concern slips away instantly before she launches into a rundown of why she can’t wait to escape this ‘hellhole’. I endure a whole hour of it until George arrives and I leave Nan filling him in on her grievances after I’ve had a recap of them myself. I’m not certain of many things at this point in my life, but I know for sure I wouldn’t want to be a nurse on Cedar Ward right now.

  Just before leaving Nan and George, I receive a text message from an unknown number, advising me that my car awaits when I’m ready to go home. But I’m not ready to go home, and I also know that Ted will have had strict orders from William to take me nowhere else. I also know that no amount of sweet talk or smiles will convince William’s driver to do otherwise.

  ‘Baby girl!’

  I swivel on my Converse and virtually squeal when I see Gregory jogging towards me, the familiarity of my best friend in his grubby combats and tight T-shirt eliminating every tortured thought currently plaguing my mind.

  He seizes me and swings me around, prompting another high-pitched squeal. ‘God, it’s so good to see you.’

  ‘And you.’ I cling to him tightly and let him squeeze me happy. ‘Are you going to see Nan?’

  ‘Yeah, have you been?’

  ‘I left her with George. She might be allowed home tomorrow.’

  Gregory detaches me from his body and holds me in place by the tops of my arms. Then he narrows guarded eyes on me. I don’t know why. I haven’t said or done anything to be suspicious of. ‘What’s up?’ he asks.

  ‘Nothing.’ I immediately chastise myself for avoiding his eyes.

  ‘Of course,’ he retorts sarcastically. ‘Because watching you run away and then having the pleasure of a few heavies ram-raid Miller’s flat was all a figment of my imagination. You’ve got nothing to be worried about.’

  ‘Heavies?’ I home right in on Gregory’s reference to what Miller prefers to call the immoral bastards.

  ‘Yeah, quite an experience.’ He takes my hand and links it through his bent arm as he starts to lead me towards the exit.

  ‘You never mentioned anything on the phone all of the times we spoke.’

  ‘Livy, whenever we’ve spoken since you disappeared to New York, it’s been mindless chitchat. Don’t pretend you wanted it any other way.’

  I can’t argue with him, so I don’t. I had no interest in hearing what went down once Miller and I had left, and still, deep down, I don’t, yet the mention of heavies is piquing my curiosity.

  ‘Mean-looking sons of bitches.’ Gregory only heightens that curiosity, along with adding a mountain of trepidation, too. ‘Your man William – master of the frigging drug world – handled them like they were kittens. He didn’t even break into a sweat when one tapped the holster of a gun. A fucking gun!’

  ‘A gun?’ I gasp, my heart jumping into my throat.

  Gregory takes a cautious look around us, then diverts us down another corridor, out of the earshot of other hospital visitors. ‘You heard me. Who are these people, Livy?’

  I retreat a few steps back. ‘I don’t know.’ I can’t feel guilty for lying. I’m too worried.

  ‘Well I do.’

  ‘You do?’ My eyes are wide and I’m frightened. William surely hasn’t told Gregory. Please say he hasn’t told Gregory!

  ‘Yes.’ He comes in closer and has a quick peek each way to check our privacy. ‘Drug dealers. Miller works for the heavies, and I bet he’s in all kinds of shit now.’

  I’m horrified. I’m stunned. I’m not sure whether letting Gregory believe Miller’s involved with drug dealers is better than the truth. Gregory has one thing right, though. Miller does work for the heavies. ‘Right,’ I breathe, desperately searching for something else to say and finding nothing, but it’s fine because Gregory continues before my silence is noticed.

  ‘Olivia, not only is your man a psychotic, OCD-suffering, ex-homeless, ex-hooker/escort, but he’s also a drug dealer!’

  My back falls against the wall and I look up to the harsh lighting, not even blinking back the powerful light when it burns my retinas. I’m banking on it burning away my troubles, too. ‘Miller isn’t a drug dealer,’ I say calmly. It would be so easy to fly off the handle right now.

  ‘And that Sophia bird, I haven’t figured out who she is yet, but she can’t be good news. I mean –’ he laughs – ‘kidnap?’

  ‘She’s in love with Miller.’

  ‘And poor Nan,’ Gregory goes on. ‘She welcomed William to her dinner table like they were old friends.’

  ‘They are.’ I reluctantly acknowledge that I should perhaps find out how friendly they are, but I’m also mindful that Nan is delicate, and stirring up old ghosts would be stupid. I drop my head on a sigh, not that he notices. Gregory is well into his stride, keen to get his conclusions out there.

  ‘He was there every day when you were . . .’ He finally pulls up, his neck recoiling on his wide shoulders. ‘They are?’

  ‘He knew my mother.’ I know those words will begin an outburst of questioning, so I hold my hand up when he draws breath. ‘Miller does work for those people and they won’t let him quit. He’s trying to find a way.’

  He’s scowling. ‘What’s that got to do with the Godfather?’

  I can’t help but smile at his quip. ‘He was my mother’s pimp. He and Miller’s boss don’t g
et along. He’s trying to help.’

  He can’t hide his wide eyes. They’re like saucers. ‘Fuuuuuck . . .’

  ‘I’m tired, Gregory. I’m tired of feeling so frustrated and helpless. You’re my friend, and I’m asking you not to enhance it.’ I sigh, all of those feelings magnifying anyway, simply because of my own admission. ‘I need you to be my friend. Please, just be my friend.’

  ‘Well, damn,’ he murmurs, dropping his head in shame. ‘Now I just feel like a hundred tonnes of first-class shit.’

  I want to ease his obvious guilt, tell him he doesn’t need to as long as he quits right here, yet the strength to do that is nowhere to be found. I push my back from the wall and drag myself towards the exit. I might be highly pissed off at Miller, yet I also know he’s the only one who can comfort me.

  A tentative palm slides onto my shoulder and his legs match my pace. But he says nothing, probably too scared to send me further into despondency. I look up at my best friend as he pulls me a little closer, but he remains focused forward. ‘Aren’t you going to see Nan?’

  He shakes his head with a rueful smile. ‘I’ll Skype her on that fancy television. She gets all excited.’

  ‘It has Internet?’

  ‘And a phone, but she likes seeing me.’

  ‘Nan’s been using the Internet?’

  ‘Yep. A lot. William’s been constantly topping up her credit. Must have cost him a fortune in the past few days. She’s hooked.’

  I laugh. ‘How’s Ben?’

  ‘We’re getting there.’

  I smile, delighted by this news. It can mean only one thing. ‘I’m glad. Have you got your van?’

  ‘Yes. You want me to take you somewhere?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’ I smile and snuggle deeper into his chest. I’m not going with Ted. ‘Can we go to the bistro, please?’

  Chapter 9

  Gregory’s phone starts ringing as he pulls up around the corner from the bistro, and he lifts his arse from his seat to rummage through the pocket of his trousers as I open the door.

  ‘I’ll call you later,’ I say, leaning across to peck his cheek. He frowns down at the display. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Hold up.’ He signals for me to wait a moment by holding up one finger as he answers. ‘Hello.’ Relaxing back in my seat, my hand resting on the handle of the open door, I watch as he listens intently for a few seconds. Then he seems to shrink into his seat. ‘She’s with me.’

  I cringe, wince, and grit my teeth all at once, then instinctively dive from the van and shut the door, my feet working fast to carry me across the road. I should have anticipated a search party after leaving Ted waiting for me at the hospital and ignoring numerous calls from Miller and William.

  ‘Olivia!’ Gregory shouts.

  I pivot when I’m safely on the other side of the road, seeing him shaking his head at me. I shrug guiltily, but only because I neglected to advise Gregory that Ted was waiting for me under William’s instruction. I didn’t intentionally drag him into the centre of locking horns.

  Raising my hand in a little wave, I turn my back on my friend and slip down a side street that’ll take me to the bistro. But I’m cringing all over again when my fancy iPhone starts chiming “I’m Sexy and I Know It” from my satchel. ‘Damn,’ I mutter, pulling it out, howling on the inside at my choice of ringtone for my best friend.

  ‘Gregory,’ I say, maintaining my determined stride.

  ‘You devious sod!’

  I laugh and check the traffic before crossing the road. ‘I’m not devious. I just didn’t tell you I had a driver for the day.’

  ‘Damn it, Olivia! William isn’t happy, and I’ve just had Mr Screw-Loose call me, too.’

  ‘Miller?’ I don’t know why I asked. Who else could Mr Screw-Loose be?

  ‘Yes. Jesus, baby girl! When did being your friend become a hazardous job? I fear for my spine, my bones . . . my fucking pretty face!’

  ‘Chill out, Gregory.’ I jump when a car horn honks at me and put my hand up in apology as I make it to the pavement. ‘I’ll check in with them both now.’

  ‘Make sure you do,’ he grunts.

  This is ridiculous, and I’m now weighing up the lesser of two evils. My self-inflicted solitary life was a little stifling but far easier to deal with, as it was me, myself, and I who controlled the reins. No one else. I feel like Miller awakened me, set me free, just like he’s said, yet now he’s trying to take away that sense of freedom, and I’m beginning to resent him for it. Gregory’s supposed to be on my side. I’ll be damned if they’re dragging my best friend over to the dark side. ‘Whose friend are you?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘You heard me. Whose friend are you? Or have you and William become bosom buddies since I’ve been away?’

  ‘Funny, baby girl. Very funny.’

  ‘I’m not trying to be funny. Answer the question.’

  There’s a brief pause followed by a long pull of breath. ‘Yours,’ he says as he exhales.

  ‘I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.’ I frown as I hang up on Gregory, then check left and right before I cross the road to the bistro. My steps are light across the tarmac, almost skipping as I come closer to my place of work. I’m smiling, too.

  ‘Olivia!’

  The bellow, laced with dread, has me stopping in the middle of the road and swinging around. I hear car horns and more shouts of horror.

  ‘Olivia! Move!’

  I’m confused, looking around frantically, trying to figure out where and what the commotion is. It’s then I see a black four-wheel drive coming at me. Fast. My mind is giving me all of the right instructions.

  Move!

  Run!

  Get out of the way!

  But my body is ignoring each and every one of them. They’re in shock. I’m frozen. A sitting target.

  All of the sound around me is drowned out by the repeated demands in my mind. The only thing I’m focused on is that car coming closer and closer and closer.

  The screeching of tyres is what finally yanks me from my trance, then the pounding footsteps on tarmac. I’m rugby-tackled from the side and sent crashing down to the pavement. I’m stunned back to life by the impact, but my landing is soft. I’m disoriented. Confused. Then I’m suddenly moving, but not by my own volition, and I’m soon sitting up with Ted crouching in front of me. Where did he come from? I left him at the hospital.

  ‘You’re gonna get me sacked, girl,’ he says, scanning my face quickly before checking my body for injuries. ‘Fuck’s sake,’ he grumbles, helping me up.

  ‘I’m . . . sorry,’ I stammer over my words, totally shaken, while Ted brushes me down with constant huffs and puffs of irritation. ‘I didn’t see the car.’

  ‘You weren’t supposed to,’ he mutters quietly, but I heard him loud and clear.

  ‘Did someone purposely try to run me down?’ I ask, dazed and motionless before him.

  ‘Maybe a little warning, but let’s not jump to conclusions. Where are you going?’

  I indicate blindly over my shoulder to the bistro across the street, unable to tell him with words.

  ‘I’ll wait here.’ He shakes his head as he pulls his phone from his pocket, giving me serious eyes that dare me to give him the slip again.

  I turn on shaky legs, willing some solidity into them before I present myself to my work friends and they have a chance to suspect something is wrong. But something is very wrong. Someone may have just tried to mow me down, and if I take all of the worry that Miller has expressed in recent days, I can only conclude that the heavies, the immoral bastards, whatever you want to call them, are to blame. They’re sending a message.

  The smell and sounds of the bistro are familiar. It almost makes smiling easy.

  ‘Oh my God! Livy!’ Sylvie dives across the bistro, leaving endless customers with wide eyes as they follow her path to me. I remain where I am for fear of her crashing into the door if I move. ‘It’s so good to see you!’ Her body collides with mine,
knocking the wind right out of me.

  ‘Hi,’ I cough, but I’m frowning again when I catch sight of an unfamiliar face behind the counter of the bistro.

  ‘How are you?’ Sylvie steps back, her hands still on my