to the idea, ‘we can bring her home.’
Stuart stood, hands on hips, looking around. ‘What makes you think you can help? You just said you didn’t know anything about him.’ He stepped away from me, shaking his head. ‘I can’t trust you.’
‘Yes you can. I don’t know him, I swear. The only reason I talked to him in the park was because he was acting all creepy towards that girl, remember? You saw him too. He’s some weirdo with an ISS Approval is all I know. We can find Gemma. Together. You and me.’
If that weirdo took Gemma, he might have taken Fran’s baby. He might even have taken that girl in the park if I hadn’t stepped in. Stuart paced about and rubbed at his face with both hands before looking at me real hard. I grinned my friendliest, helpful grin when what I really wanted to do was shake him, beg him, fall at his feet and hug his ankles.
‘That Red with the dragon on his head.’ Stuart pointed between his eyes. ‘Why were you with him and why did he stop me? I mean … you keep popping up all over the place. Why?’
‘Coincidence.’
‘Yeah right.’
‘Alright, it’s not. But believe me when I say I want to find Gemma every bit as much as you do. Let’s go somewhere and talk.’ He looked like he might be thinking about it. I kept up the pressure. ‘You choose where. Anywhere you like.’ Despite us being safely away from prying ears and any CCTV, he’d surely want to go someplace else. Somewhere neutral where he knew I didn’t have any friends around the corner waiting for the chance to jump him. It’s what I’d do. As for me, I’d pretty much go anywhere with anybody rather than go to the caff.
‘Okay. But if you’re messing with me …’
‘I’m not. Honest.’ I put up my hands like I wouldn’t dare do such a thing. But Stuart? Scary? Not ever.
He led me around the edge of West Basley to the beach. Basley beach is long and sandy and, at one time, it used to attract tourists from all over the world, but that was before the sea took on its fluorescent green tinge at the mouth of the Bast. By the time they built the toxi-plant to filter the gunk out, the cage had been put up and nobody, or at least anybody who doesn’t have to, crosses west of the Bast.
The toxi-plant did a better job some days than others. Sometimes the sea is reported to be as clear as vodka and giving off a gentle pungent scent, like salty nappies. Sometimes it’s so shiny it burns the eyes and stinks somewhere between engine oil and disinfectant. But other days, the in between days, it looks and smells pretty good. The coastline is a natural blockade on one side of West Basley, the river and cage makes up the rest, the plan being to stop the cons breaking back east.
I’d not been down to the shore for a long while and forgotten how good it felt. The sense of space - miles and miles of sand and sea with no one to hassle me – think freedom.
I needed to put Stuart at ease. So I talked. The polite chit and chat has always been a struggle for me, but I put in my best effort, smiled a lot, and tried to change the subject – relax him. ‘Apparently, before the boundary between east and west went up, this place was teeming with people from all over.’ I glanced at him to see if he was listening. Possibly. I kept going. ‘That Red gave me a lift back to the west in his van yesterday. He knew I didn’t belong over east. I think they thought I might be casing the joint.’ Stuart kicked at the sand. His teeth were clamped shut, his jaw square. His look reminded me of a cartoon superhero. I had to get him to open up. ‘That’s some house your dad’s got.’
‘Why were you over by my dad’s house?’
‘I just happened to be in the area, saw you, recognised you from the park, and thought I might say hi.’ I stopped, not wanting to dig the hole any deeper.
‘Do you know where my mother is?’
I tried to look affronted. ‘No. Why would I? Don’t you?’
‘I don’t know anything. Nobody
Stuart stood, hands on hips, looking around. ‘What makes you think you can help? You just said you didn’t know anything about him.’ He stepped away from me, shaking his head. ‘I can’t trust you.’
‘Yes you can. I don’t know him, I swear. The only reason I talked to him in the park was because he was acting all creepy towards that girl, remember? You saw him too. He’s some weirdo with an ISS Approval is all I know. We can find Gemma. Together. You and me.’
If that weirdo took Gemma, he might have taken Fran’s baby. He might even have taken that girl in the park if I hadn’t stepped in. Stuart paced about and rubbed at his face with both hands before looking at me real hard. I grinned my friendliest, helpful grin when what I really wanted to do was shake him, beg him, fall at his feet and hug his ankles.
‘That Red with the dragon on his head.’ Stuart pointed between his eyes. ‘Why were you with him and why did he stop me? I mean … you keep popping up all over the place. Why?’
‘Coincidence.’
‘Yeah right.’
‘Alright, it’s not. But believe me when I say I want to find Gemma every bit as much as you do. Let’s go somewhere and talk.’ He looked like he might be thinking about it. I kept up the pressure. ‘You choose where. Anywhere you like.’ Despite us being safely away from prying ears and any CCTV, he’d surely want to go someplace else. Somewhere neutral where he knew I didn’t have any friends around the corner waiting for the chance to jump him. It’s what I’d do. As for me, I’d pretty much go anywhere with anybody rather than go to the caff.
‘Okay. But if you’re messing with me …’
‘I’m not. Honest.’ I put up my hands like I wouldn’t dare do such a thing. But Stuart? Scary? Not ever.
He led me around the edge of West Basley to the beach. Basley beach is long and sandy and, at one time, it used to attract tourists from all over the world, but that was before the sea took on its fluorescent green tinge at the mouth of the Bast. By the time they built the toxi-plant to filter the gunk out, the cage had been put up and nobody, or at least anybody who doesn’t have to, crosses west of the Bast.
The toxi-plant did a better job some days than others. Sometimes the sea is reported to be as clear as vodka and giving off a gentle pungent scent, like salty nappies. Sometimes it’s so shiny it burns the eyes and stinks somewhere between engine oil and disinfectant. But other days, the in between days, it looks and smells pretty good. The coastline is a natural blockade on one side of West Basley, the river and cage makes up the rest, the plan being to stop the cons breaking back east.
I’d not been down to the shore for a long while and forgotten how good it felt. The sense of space - miles and miles of sand and sea with no one to hassle me – think freedom.
I needed to put Stuart at ease. So I talked. The polite chit and chat has always been a struggle for me, but I put in my best effort, smiled a lot, and tried to change the subject – relax him. ‘Apparently, before the boundary between east and west went up, this place was teeming with people from all over.’ I glanced at him to see if he was listening. Possibly. I kept going. ‘That Red gave me a lift back to the west in his van yesterday. He knew I didn’t belong over east. I think they thought I might be casing the joint.’ Stuart kicked at the sand. His teeth were clamped shut, his jaw square. His look reminded me of a cartoon superhero. I had to get him to open up. ‘That’s some house your dad’s got.’
‘Why were you over by my dad’s house?’
‘I just happened to be in the area, saw you, recognised you from the park, and thought I might say hi.’ I stopped, not wanting to dig the hole any deeper.
‘Do you know where my mother is?’
I tried to look affronted. ‘No. Why would I? Don’t you?’
‘I don’t know anything. Nobody
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