Brute Force

22

I found the immersion heater in an airing cupboard next to the bathroom and switched it off at the mains. Then I took a very long shower.

Assuming it was me they were after, who had a motive? The list was as long as my arm. I stopped thinking about the motive – what about the opportunity? Who the fuck knew I was here? More than that, who would be able to spring into action so quickly?

Dom? No. The housekeeper? Ditto. The shopkeeper, or somebody in one of the villages who'd recognized me? Almost impossible, unless they'd been on the streets of Derry and Belfast in the eighties and recognized my face twenty-odd years on.

And absolutely nobody else knew I was here. Why should they? I had no one to tell where I was going. It wasn't like I had family or an employer who needed to keep in touch. And we hadn't been followed. I would have known.

I yelled loudly as the water ran cold and went back downstairs with a towel around me.

'Looks like the boiler's on the blink. I'll phone Dom, see if there's a quick fix.'

I picked up the phone in the kitchen and talked without dialling. 'Can I speak with Dom, please? It's Nick, a friend. It's a personal call. He'll know who I am.' I hummed a bit as I waited. 'Hi, mate – listen, the boiler's playing up. Yeah, it's run cold. Oh shit, really? That's not good. You think so? OK, that's great. See you at about five then?'

I went back. Tallulah gave me the arched eyebrow treatment again. I beckoned her into the kitchen.

'What's happening, Nick? You're behaving very—'

'I'm not sure, but I think there's somebody outside. Don't worry, they're after me, not you. But Dom is on his way to collect you as a precaution.'