Page 156 of Fe
He needed Ripley out of the house. Fen was too much of a coward to walk out with Ripley watching.
“If that’s what you want.” Ripley grabbed his phone and wallet and left.
Fen didn’t waste time. He booked an Uber, then went upstairs, added his toiletries to his backpack, pulled on a hoodie, and left his keys on the hall table.
Ten minutes later, he was in a Toyota Prius heading towards London Bridge feeling as bad as he’d ever felt. Fen texted his mum details of what happened and told her he was going away for a few days. He blocked Ripley and switched off his phone. He might be doing the right thing but it didn’t feel right. Maybe it would eventually.
By the time the driver had dropped him outside the bank in Borough, Fen was sure there were no reporters on their tail. It would have been difficult to follow anyone through that amount of traffic. Inside the bank, Fen queued for a cashier.
“Good afternoon. How can I help you?” asked the lady.
“I’d like to move money from my account to someone else’s account, please.” Fen handed her his bank card and his driving license. “I’m not sure of the balance in mine.”Please don’t recognise me or my name.
“The balance is £85,541.”
Fen gasped. “What? When was the last transfer in?”
“Yesterday.”
Why had Ripley done that? “I’d like to transfer the £80,000 back to the account it came from. It’s not mine.”
“Was the money not paid in by someone you know? Do you suspect fraud or money laundering?”
Eek!“No. I just didn’t want it to happen. Can you return it? Block future payments in? I’m not in contact with the sender.” Not a lie, not technically.
“We can’t block future transactions unless you’re willing to report fraud or money laundering and complete our formalities. You could, however, close this account and open another.”
“Okay.”
“Do you have any direct debits?”
“My phone provider. And I need four hundred in cash, please. Oh, and I’ve just remembered, I’ve sent the sender money once before. Here, it’s on my app.”
It took a while to sort out the new account but when the money was winging its way back to Ripley, Fen felt nothing but relief. He gave his mother’s new address for where to send his card and zipped the cash into an inside pocket on his jacket. Now all he had to do was survive until his mum and Alistair came home.
He called Morgan, who didn’t answer. Then he called Seth.
“Fen! What’s up?”
“Think I could crash at your place for a few days?”
“Course you can. What’s happened with Ripley?”
“We’re done. Don’t answer a call from him.”
“He doesn’t know either of our numbers unless you told him. He better not have hurt you. Morgan is working until six but come when you like.”
“Thanks, Seth.”
He could be there in fifteen minutes but he needed to be on his own for a while. Fen walked along the side of the Thames and kept walking long after he should have stopped because now he’d have to walk all the way back to Borough and he was tired. He found a place to sit and look at the river. Once he’d stopped moving, he was cold and he pulled on his hat and gloves. Fen hadn’t thought his life could be more of a mess, but he’d been wrong.
He wished Ripley had never offered to pay him. He wished even more Ripley hadn’t put all that money in his account. Why had he done that? What was he saying? Fen could have the money whether he stayed with him or not? He didn’t want the money standing between them? Or he’d known the split was coming, understood the impact these revelations would have on his career and if Fen had hung around today, Ripley would have been asking him to leave.
Fen liked him. More than liked him. Ignoring the mess over the money. When he’d realised it was Ripley he’d been with in the club, he’d thought he was going to keel over in shock. Fen didn’t believe in fate, but at that moment, he had. Now everything was wrecked. Thinking about Ripley made his stomach clench in a painful knot. He had enough aches and pains without manufacturing them.
A sense of desolation swept over him. Fen felt overwhelmed, as if his entire body had shut down. He couldn’t breathe. A tiny bit of him wished he’d never breathe again. He was so tired. Despair was exhausting. He didn’t want to think because thinking hurt. It was almost a disappointment to register his lungs still functioned.
The sun was setting and the Thames was flowing out to sea. He was on the edge of the ebb and flow of life. The sky gradually turned to fire and the reflection on the water made it look as though everything was ablaze. He took a picture. Fen’s life might currently be shit but there was still beauty in the world.
