Page 21 of Rivers of Ink
When it came around to time for dessert, the final seat swapping took place. Two men joined their table, announcing themselves as Ned and Andy.
“How are things, Cal?” asked Ned.
“Not bad, mate, not bad,” said Callan.
“I gather things are picking up at the shop again. Saw Isobel the other day, she’s still a wreck.”
Alicia felt Callan stiffen at the mention of the woman’s name. It was the same as the one on the email that had been sent to Jason Mackey. Could they be the same person, and how did Ned know her?
“As she should be.”
Alicia was surprised at the coldness in Callan’s tone. She’d never heard him speak like that before.
“She said you barely spoke to her at the funeral. I thought you would have been more sympathetic towards her, after all, she’d lost someone close to her.”
Callan’s nails dug into Alicia’s palm, and she winced, pulling back a little.
“And I hadn’t? Don’t be a prick, Ned.”
“Must have been a shock though, finding them together like that.”
“She told you?”
“We went out for drinks. She told me pretty much everything.” Ned’s face glowed in triumph. “Seemed you got over her pretty quickly though.” He looked directly at Alicia. “Who’s your new bird going to screw when she’s had enough though?”
Callan jumped up, his chair crashing to the floor. “I thought I told you not to be a prick?”
“Callan, it’s okay. Calm down.” Alicia reached for his arm. He shook her off.
“Don’t tell me to calm down, Alicia. You know nothing about this.” He stalked across the room towards the exit.
Alicia glared at Ned, who just laughed at her. She didn’t know what to make of what he’d said. She knew that someone called Isobel used to work at The Unbound Soul, but she didn’t know what she had to do with Callan. And how did Xander fit in to it all? She pushed her own chair back and went to find him.
He was at the bar on the ground floor, nursing a glass of what looked like a double shot of whisky. An empty glass already sat on the bar beside him.
“Do you want to tell me who Isobel is?”
Callan fixed her with the same expression he had shot in Ned’s direction. “Not really,” he growled.
“She must have been important to you for you to react like that.” Alicia couldn’t help pushing it. She wanted to know what was going on.
He laughed hollowly and beckoned the barman over to get a refill. “Don’t push it, Ali. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Part of her wanted to stay, to find out more about this Isobel who had so clearly gotten under Callan’s skin, whoever she was. The sensible part of her decided it was time to bail.
“I think I’m going to go home and check up on Nell. She was a bit out of sorts when I was home earlier, and I’d like to stay with her tonight. I think that’s best.”
A shadow of disappointment crossed Callan’s handsome features, and Alicia knew she had to be strong enough to walk away. He leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek, but she ducked out of his reach.
“See you later,” she said.
12
The sun was starting to come up, and Callan was still awake. He was stretched out on the sofa in his living room and hadn’t slept since Alicia had given him the brush off the previous evening. His behaviour towards Ned had been out of order, and he still hadn’t explained the whole situation to his new girlfriend. The truth would probably be a good start.
He’d put on The Comedy Channel for background noise, half watching the reruns of old sitcoms. He stared at the screen, not really taking anything in. His eyelids started to droop as he finally felt sleepy for the first time in hours.
What felt like minutes later, his alarm went off. Marek was doing the morning shift, as Saturday was usually a busy day for tattooing, and he was doing the afternoon. It was already midday. Callan dragged his tired body into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He stripped off his clothes and threw them into a ball in the corner. He stepped under the flow and let the jets run over him, stimulating the blood around his body.
