Page 112 of Fe
“I can massage your back better.”
Ripley sighed and carried him to the bed.
This was more than sex.
Is that a bad thing or good?
22
The next day, Fen met the cleaner who was in her fifties. Ripley had warned him she was coming and that she liked the house to herself, so Fen said hello then left. He could have retreated to the summer house but he had a few jobs to do. He wanted to go and get his passport, and as he’d finished repairing the chessboard, he thought he might as well drop that in at the shop.
It took him over an hour to get there and it reminded him how much he didn’t like long journeys on the bus. If he’d still had his job, it would have been a trek from Ripley’s place. He reached the post office before the shop, so he called in there first. Once he’d shown his ID and been handed the passport, he found a space to stand and take a better look at it.
Fen wished he could have smiled, but he looked okay. Not like the wide-eyed, slightly stupid criminal of his first five attempts at an acceptable image. He grinned when he remembered the trouble he’d had, then zipped the passport in an inside pocket of his jacket. Fen didn’t really see why he needed a smart coat as well but he’d look for one if that’s what Ripley wanted.
The shop was less than fifty metres away and Fen’s heart had sunk long before he reached it. It felt strange coming back here. He spotted Scott on his own inside and Fen stepped back before he’d been seen. He had to stop himself clenching his teeth. It didn’t matter that he was happier doing what he was doing now, it still hurt to be dismissed for something he hadn’t done. Which gave him an idea. He activated the voice recorder on his phone and put it in his open backpack. Scottmightsay something incriminating.
Scott gave a mocking laugh when Fen walked into the shop. “What the hell are you doing here? Begging for your job back?”
Fen moved closer. “I’ve brought something for Alistair. Is he here?”
“Yeah. He’s in the workroom. I’ll give it him.”
“No. I don’t trust you not to drop it.”
Scott sniggered.
“Why did you stick that ring in my backpack? You could have hidden it anywhere else and picked it up later. Why get me blamed?”
When Scott didn’t say anything, Fen kept talking. “What have I ever done to you?”
“You’re an arsehole.”
“What? Scott, I literally came to work, spent most of my time in the workroom and went home. I had nothing to do with you.”
“And I get from my dad—At least Fen’s some use. You do fuck all.It was Fen this, Fen that.At least Fen knows something about Japanese ceramics. You know nothing.Then you opened your mouth about what I do on my phone when it’s none of your fucking business. At least now you’re gone, I don’t get you shoved down my throat.”
“I needed this job. At least it was something I could do. You don’t even like it. When you find something better, you’ll be off.”
“Too fucking right. But I wasn’t going to let an opportunity to get rid of you slip past.”
Fen’s heart pounded. “Why did Tara say you’d not been into the workroom?”
“Because she’s my girlfriend and I asked her not to.”
Was that enough? Fen wasn’t sure. “You lost the business the Belmont contract. The Richardsons got it.”
Scott smirked. “Not me that lost it.”
“Yes it was. You took the ring. What the hell were you thinking? That an old lady wouldn’t notice?”
“It was on the floor. I picked it up.”
“Dickhead,” Fen muttered and headed for the workroom, his throat choked with hope. Had his phone recorded? Was it clear enough?
Alistair looked up when he walked in. “Hello there, what are you doing here?”
Same question as Scott but said in an entirely different tone.
