Read Online You Will Never Find Me by Robert Wilson - Free Book Online
Authors: Robert Wilson
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across his back to his extended left arm and then back to his neck.
âYeah?â said Sasha.
Sergei let the ball drop down his back to his heel and, looking over his right shoulder, he did Around the World with his right foot and then, looking over his other shoulder, did the same with his left foot. Then he back-heeled it high above his head and as it came down he dropped onto his hands, flicked his legs up and rocketed the ball into the railings.
Sasha gaped in awe. Sergei was fourteen years old to his ten, but he knew that some of the pros would have trouble with a trick like that. Around the World behind your back!
They walked down Netherhall Gardens towards Sashaâs school, keeping their balls on the move, swapping them every now and again until Sergei darted down a side street taking both balls with him. He snaked around some bollards at the bottom and sent a ball up high, which Sasha took on his chest. The second ball he swept up and over Sashaâs head. Sasha turned to chase and ran straight into the arms of a man in a thick wool coat, who threw him onto the back seat of a black Mercedes, where another man pressed his face hard into a rag in his gloved hand. The door slammed after him. Sasha didnât hear it. Sergei retrieved both balls as the Mercedes came out of its parking spot. He got in next to the driver, pulled the door to. The Mercedes took off with a sharp squeal from its front tyres.
Â
Mercy came awake, stretched, eyes closed, languorous as a cat. She was warm and relaxed under the duvet, still with the thrill of last night in her sex.
That fierce hug had turned into a long kiss and urgent sex on the sofa and then a much longer session in bed, followed by a strange, careless sleep to be woken by Alleyne with a plate of cheese on toast and a glass of white wine, which theyâd gulped down in bed. This was followed by a joint, from which, in the spirit of recklessness, she took two tiny tokes. There was a lot of giggling and then more sex and a longer sleep from which sheâd had to struggle to come round.
She ran her hands over her head and face, stretched them up into the air trying to recall if thereâd ever been a time when sheâd woken up caring so little about the world roaring beyond the bedroom window.
She rolled her head, knew what she would see. His back. She was just reaching out to touch him when she noticed a piece of paper curling away from the ceiling with the damp and only then did the full horror of yesterday kick back in to her mind.
What a fool am I?
Sliding out from under the duvet, she gathered her clothes, went to the bathroom. She swilled some odd taste out of her mouth with water from a tap encrusted with limescale and refused to look at herself in the demanding mirror. She had a quick basin wash just to feel bearable and had to dry herself off with toilet paper as the only available towel was of the rough and slightly damp sort found in a car mechanicâs toilet. She dressed. Had to look at herself to put on lipstick, hoped the make-up would drive out some of the self-pity from her face.
Her cop instincts, as Amy would call them, meant that she was unable to resist opening the one door in the flat she hadnât seen behind. The room was bigger than the bedroom theyâd been sleeping in and was full from floor to ceiling with cartons of cigarettes, high-end trainers, state-of-the-art headphones, Bose iPod docks and Samsung, LG and Panasonic LED flat-screen TVs. She shook her head. Fucking with a fence, she said under her breath, determined to be hard on herself.
âNow Iâm going to have to kill you,â said a voice with so little threat in it she turned very slowly to see Marcus Alleyne standing naked in the doorway, running his hand up and down his washboard stomach. For a fleeting moment she thought about going back to bed with him, taking a break from the ugly world in which she operated, but then DI Danquah reasserted
âYeah?â said Sasha.
Sergei let the ball drop down his back to his heel and, looking over his right shoulder, he did Around the World with his right foot and then, looking over his other shoulder, did the same with his left foot. Then he back-heeled it high above his head and as it came down he dropped onto his hands, flicked his legs up and rocketed the ball into the railings.
Sasha gaped in awe. Sergei was fourteen years old to his ten, but he knew that some of the pros would have trouble with a trick like that. Around the World behind your back!
They walked down Netherhall Gardens towards Sashaâs school, keeping their balls on the move, swapping them every now and again until Sergei darted down a side street taking both balls with him. He snaked around some bollards at the bottom and sent a ball up high, which Sasha took on his chest. The second ball he swept up and over Sashaâs head. Sasha turned to chase and ran straight into the arms of a man in a thick wool coat, who threw him onto the back seat of a black Mercedes, where another man pressed his face hard into a rag in his gloved hand. The door slammed after him. Sasha didnât hear it. Sergei retrieved both balls as the Mercedes came out of its parking spot. He got in next to the driver, pulled the door to. The Mercedes took off with a sharp squeal from its front tyres.
Â
Mercy came awake, stretched, eyes closed, languorous as a cat. She was warm and relaxed under the duvet, still with the thrill of last night in her sex.
That fierce hug had turned into a long kiss and urgent sex on the sofa and then a much longer session in bed, followed by a strange, careless sleep to be woken by Alleyne with a plate of cheese on toast and a glass of white wine, which theyâd gulped down in bed. This was followed by a joint, from which, in the spirit of recklessness, she took two tiny tokes. There was a lot of giggling and then more sex and a longer sleep from which sheâd had to struggle to come round.
She ran her hands over her head and face, stretched them up into the air trying to recall if thereâd ever been a time when sheâd woken up caring so little about the world roaring beyond the bedroom window.
She rolled her head, knew what she would see. His back. She was just reaching out to touch him when she noticed a piece of paper curling away from the ceiling with the damp and only then did the full horror of yesterday kick back in to her mind.
What a fool am I?
Sliding out from under the duvet, she gathered her clothes, went to the bathroom. She swilled some odd taste out of her mouth with water from a tap encrusted with limescale and refused to look at herself in the demanding mirror. She had a quick basin wash just to feel bearable and had to dry herself off with toilet paper as the only available towel was of the rough and slightly damp sort found in a car mechanicâs toilet. She dressed. Had to look at herself to put on lipstick, hoped the make-up would drive out some of the self-pity from her face.
Her cop instincts, as Amy would call them, meant that she was unable to resist opening the one door in the flat she hadnât seen behind. The room was bigger than the bedroom theyâd been sleeping in and was full from floor to ceiling with cartons of cigarettes, high-end trainers, state-of-the-art headphones, Bose iPod docks and Samsung, LG and Panasonic LED flat-screen TVs. She shook her head. Fucking with a fence, she said under her breath, determined to be hard on herself.
âNow Iâm going to have to kill you,â said a voice with so little threat in it she turned very slowly to see Marcus Alleyne standing naked in the doorway, running his hand up and down his washboard stomach. For a fleeting moment she thought about going back to bed with him, taking a break from the ugly world in which she operated, but then DI Danquah reasserted
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