The Grey Man

CHAPTER FOUR

Kevin sat on the top deck of the bus, with his briefcase on his lap. He normally sat downstairs because he hadn't far to go. Today he had helped an old lady and she wouldn't stop thanking him so he had come upstairs to escape. He could see the whole of the high street through the rain-stripped windows. Lots of men with briefcases and umbrellas struggled up the hill to the car park. Office girls huddled in the doorway of Boots, smoking.

A woman with a pram tucked a new mop under one arm as she pushed with the other hand. Then she lost her grip on the pram, which started to roll down the hill. She dropped the mop and grabbed the pram. The baby was safe. For a moment, Kevin saw himself as Superman, in red cape and blue tights, smashing the bus window to fly after the runaway pram.

The bus drew away from the stop. He pulled out his phone and texted Linda that he was on his way. This was the best part of the day, going home.

As usual, Symington had been too idle to put in the CCTV videos that recorded the bank overnight. He knew it was a sacking offence but he didn't understand the machines. The bank wasn't insured if the security devices weren't working, but Symington thought he was above the rules. Every night Kevin put new tapes into the machines before the bank closed and replaced them in the morning.

He could hear two women laughing as they climbed up to the top deck. He recognized one of their voices, and turned, slipping his mobile back into his coat pocket.

He hadn't seen Debbie Robinson since he had left school, almost fifteen years ago, but she had hardly changed. She still looked great and he felt shy, like he always had at school with her. She wore a black mini-skirt, biker boots and jacket. Her hair was jet black and punky, and she had the biggest blue eyes he had ever seen. She was chatting with her mate as they walked past him and took the seat in front. She didn't notice him. Just like at school, really.

Her mate's phone rang and she was soon talking about what pub to go to that night. Debs checked her hair in a compact mirror and caught Kevin looking at her in its reflection. She swung round. 'What the fuck d'ya— Hang on, I know you. You're Kevin… Kevin something or other. I remember you from school. You had one of those pogo-stick things, didn't you?'

That was Kevin Logan. I'm Kevin Dodds.'

'Yeah, right.' She thought hard. 'Got it. The podgy one, basin haircut, always in the back row.'

Kevin was sort of pleased she knew who he was, but he was still a little nervous talking to her. 'So, what are you up to, Debs? Married with kids and a poodle?'

'Married with one kid. No poodle. You remember Dave, don't you? Captain of the football team? But you didn't play football at school, did you?'

Kevin shook his head. 'Er, no. But I knew him.'

Everyone at school had known Dave. He played almost every sport for the school. That made him hated by the boys as much as he was loved by the girls. Worse, he was good-looking, always had money and never got spots.

Debs's mate closed down her phone and listened to the conversation while she shoved salt and vinegar crisps into her mouth. Her crunching was nearly as loud as Debs's voice.

'Well, he's got his own carpet business in Leadenbridge now. Got lots of staff. Doing really well,' Debs went on.

Debs's friend wasn't impressed. She pulled a face. 'Yeah, Dave's doing really well and still just as popular. That's why he's never at home, eh, Debs?'

Debs shot her a look that told her to shut it. She shoved some more crisps into her mouth.

Kevin had played football at school but only with the other kids who never got picked for the team. It wasn't that he was bad at it. He just never looked right. He was a bit plump, as he was now, but it was more than that. All the other kids had the right Adidas shorts, and the right trainers. Kevin's mum always bought him cheap ones from the market. Even at ten, kids could pick out a loser.

Debs was still going on about Dave. 'Anyway, I married him, and we've just moved into the new Bovis estate. We got the show-home up there. It's gorgeous. Three bathrooms. I'm a hairdresser at Cuts To Go in town. What about you?'

'Remember Linda Perry? We've been married seven years now. No kids, and definitely no poodle. I'm the deputy manager at The Bank, the one on Middle Street.'

'Linda? Wasn't she the zitty one with greasy hair and Mr Magoo glasses?'

Debs's friend was giggling now. Debs nudged her. Kevin did what he normally did at times like this. He just smiled. He didn't want to make a scene. 'Dunno… Anyway, she doesn't have spots or glasses or greasy hair now.'

'I remember Linda.' Debs turned to her mate who was now munching a Mars bar. 'They were the school geeks, yeah? Ah. That's love for you.'

Her mate swallowed and let out a high-pitched giggle.

Debs liked that and carried on taking the piss. 'Hey, Kev. You should do something about your hair. That side-parting just isn't on. Come and see me and I'll bring you into the nineteen nineties at least.' They stood up for their stop. The Mars bar wrapper and crisps packet were stuffed down the back of the seat. 'See ya, Kev. Listen, maybe don't bother with the cut. I'm sure the lovely Linda likes you just as you are, but what about some gel?'

Kevin heard more giggles as they disappeared down the stairs. No doubt Debs had made another joke about him. He should have said something back to her. But he hadn't been able to think of anything smart or witty. He was thirty this year, but it had been just like school. Some things never changed.