Page 35 of Taylor
“Good morning, Sir. How can I help?” the lady on reception says when Iapproach.
“Hi, yeah, there was a Mrs Bentley-Cox staying in room 304. Could you tell me if she has checked out,please?”
“I’m sorry, Sir. I can’t give details about ourguests.”
“I booked the room; look at the details. She’s my mum and I need to know if she’s gone ornot.”
“Sir—”
“Please.” I must look pathetic enough that she caves and tells me Mum checked out of her room yesterday morning. Just as Isuspected.
“Oh, hang on, Sir,” the receptionist says as I turn away. “There’s a note to say she left something here foryou.”
Turning back around, I see her rooting through a drawer. “Here.”
I take the small piece of paper from her outstretched hand and, after thanking her, I march from thehotel.
I find a bench a little down the street. I sit and stare at the piece of paper for a few seconds, trying to imagine what could possibly be on it. I come to a conclusion it can only be one thing. When I open it, I find I’mright.
I’m sorryx
“Motherfucker,” I mutter under my breath, and screw the paper up into my palm. That’s it. That was her last chance. I warned her and I meant it. I will not help her try to get away from himagain.
When I get back to the flat later that afternoon, Caleb is just lowering his phone from his ear. His face shows that he hasn’t just received goodnews.
“That was the police,” he sayssadly.
“Goon.”
“They picked up your stepdad earlier. Questionedhim.”
“And…”
“They can’t chargehim.”
“Why the fucknot?”
“He’s got analibi.”
“Of course he fucking has,” I mutter as I come to stand in front of our kitchen worktop. I place my palms on the counter and hand my head. “She’s never going to leave him, isshe?”
“Taylor,” Caleb says, coming to stand next to me before wrapping me in hisarms.
Caleb
“This is the one,”Taylor announces as he spins around, looking at everything this appartment has tooffer.
In the past two weeks, we’ve looked at hundreds of apartments online and viewed a handful, none of which have been suitable. The second we were shown the details for this one, we both knew. This was the one. It’s a stunning top floor maisonette of a recently converted warehouse. It’s slightly more out of town than our old place but the compromise is so worth it. The space we get for our money is insane. So what we’ll have to spend a little longer each day commuting into thecity?
I continue watching Taylor take in all the details. I don’t need to see any more. The photos we’ve seen and his reaction now is all I need. He’s looking at the modern kitchen in a pool of light the giant windows let in. One wall is completely glass, giving us an amazing view. Most of the walls are exposed brickwork and the floor is stunningly refurbished dark wood. The mix of both wood and metal throughout this place is incredible. Taylor’s boss came up trumps with the estate agent recommendation. Brian was the only agent to know this was coming on the market, and we’ve been lucky enough to be the first and hopefully only people to viewit.
“Where do we sign?” I ask Brian, ripping my eyes away from Taylor’s ass as he starts climbing the stairs to check out the bedrooms andbathroom.
“Don’t you want to lookupstairs?”
“I will, but I don’t need to. This is our new home,” I stateproudly.
We spend so long in the flat Brian has to practically drag us out because he has other clients tomeet.
