I dump my haul on the grey, scuffed mat while I fish out my keys with trembling fingers and finally open our door, my heart a battering ram against my chest. I chance a glance over my shoulder, through the glass doors, to see two huge men in dark jackets striding up the steps outside the block. With a silent prayer, I slam the flat door shut, thanking God for such a narrow escape.
I can’t believe the bloody bailiffs have managed to track me down. Thankfully, I’ve kept Mum in ignorance of my debts so far, but it won’t be long until she finds out just how much trouble I’m in. I’ll have to warn her never to open our front door.Damn. As if my day hasn’t been stressful enough without this.
The flat is silent and still. I exhale shakily and stand in the hallway for a moment, letting the quiet press in on me. I’m not a sensitive person, but right now I have this big balloon of anxiety in my chest that I can’t shake. I don’t like it at all. It’s not like me to get flustered.
My phone shows no reply from Mum. I stuff my purchases behind the sofa for now. There’s a chest of drawers in the hallway that’s already bursting with clothes I don’t wear. I should stick a load of them on Vinted, but I doubt they’d fetch more than thepostage. I don’t know why I keep buying stuff. It’s like a fever comes over me. A euphoric buzz that I don’t get from anything else. But, right now, I feel the opposite of that – I’m grubby and tired, my mind spinning, pulse still racing from everything that’s happened.
Mum’s not here, I can tell from the atmosphere, but I check her bedroom anyway – empty. I’m glad. I need some time to calm down before speaking to her. My stomach gurgles, but I’m not at all hungry. I drift over to the kitchenette, pour myself a tall glass of water and gulp it down, hoping it will calm me. It doesn’t.
I head to the little bathroom, strip off my clothes, and step into the shower. One good thing about this flat is that the water’s always hot and the pressure’s decent, something I’m grateful for now, as the sharp jets get rid of today’s grime and stress. I squirt on the Bath & Body Works shower gel that I treated myself to today. But its rich cherry scent taunts me – I shouldn’t have bought it. I shouldn’t have boughtanythingtoday, not with my debts piling up around my ears. I kid myself that I’ll take it all back and get a refund, but I know I won’t. I usually prefer to block that part of my life out, but it’s getting harder to do that. My spending habit is out of control, and the consequences aren’t going to be pretty. Not with the bailiffs on my back. Although, even if they did gain access to the flat, there’s nothing much here for them anyway. The TV’s old, the furniture’s crap. Maybe I should have let them in, saved myself the panic. I shudder as I picture their burly figures. No way am I letting them in.
I turn off the shower and stand in the steam, hair dripping in the warm silence. As I reach for the cardboard-like towel and wrap it around my body, I hear the front door open. My stomach clenches in fear, and then I relax. It will be Mum. But, right now, I don’t know if seeing her is worse than seeing the bailiffs. What will she say when I question her? What if she refuses to tell me the truth? What if she doesn’t know anything about the two women?Well, if that’s the case, then I’ll go back to Lymington. Try to find out who owns that yacht. Look out for the Mini. I took a note of the number plate, so maybe that will help me trace the owner.
Suddenly fired up again, I towel-dry myself and pull on my black and pink knockoff Victoria’s Secret dressing gown. I usually take time to apply body lotion after my shower, but I’m too impatient.
There’s a knock on the bathroom door. ‘Jade, can you let me in? I’m bursting here.’
I take a breath and open the door.
‘Thanks, love.’ She slides past and ushers me out. ‘Thought I was going to wet myself on the way home. My pelvic floor’s shot.’
I leave the bathroom and head to the kitchen to make us both a cup of tea. I need something sweet to settle my nerves, and I also need to put her in a good mood before I start interrogating her again. I’m trying to blank out the debt collectors from my mind. I can’t cope with that shit right now. I have more important things to deal with.
A couple of minutes later, Mum comes into the lounge, eyeing the two mugs on the coffee table along with a packet of Rich Tea biscuits. ‘Ooh, tea, you read my mind.’
I’m seated at one end of the sofa; she comes and plonks herself on the other.
‘Good day?’ I ask through gritted teeth.
She blows on her tea. ‘Not bad. Glad I’m not working tonight, there’s a match on so it’ll be carnage later. How was your lunch with Zac? Surprised to see you back. Thought you’d be living it up in town on your evening off.’
I sip my tea and take a breath. ‘I had a bit of a shock, actually.’
Mum puts her tea down and glances sideways at me. I catch her gaze, but she doesn’t hold it. ‘Oh yes?’ she says warily.
‘Yes,’ I reply, unsure how to phrase what I want to say.
‘Well?’ Mum asks.
‘Well,’ I repeat, cradling my warm mug. ‘I saw you, or someone who looks just like you, in town today.’
Mum picks up her tea again and takes a small sip. ‘Wasn’t me. I’ve been here – shopping, washing, cleaning, followed by a shift at the pub... all the glamorous stuff.’
I study her face intently, looking for any signs of a lie. ‘Me and Zac, we both saw you coming out of an accountant’s office.’
‘Very nice, I’m sure.’ Mum finally gives me some eye contact. ‘But, as you well know, Jade, I don’t earn enough money to have an “accountant”.’
‘So, you’re saying it wasn’t you?’
‘Course it wasn’t me. I was at work!’ she snaps. ‘Call Mags if you don’t believe me.’
‘Mum, I know you’re hiding something. Anyway, I have photos.’ I lift my phone off the coffee table and bring up the picture I snapped outside the accountant’s, and the others I took at Lymington Quay. I shift around in my seat so I’m looking straight at her as I flash my screen in front of her face. But she pushes it away, refusing to look, her face suddenly drawn and pale.
She gets to her feet, mug still clenched in her hand. ‘Glad you had a good day, but I’m exhausted. Gonna have an early night.’
My chest tightens. ‘No. Wait.’ I stand, heart pounding. ‘You’re not running off again. You’re not going anywhere till you tell me what you know. Anyway, I haven’t finished telling you everything.’
Mum’s face flushes the deepest crimson. ‘You can tell me tomorrow.’ Her lips tighten, and she starts walking away.