Someone Else's Conflict (14 page)

That will soon change. She has only just moved here from the capital, after all, and with their help will soon transform the run-down farm back into the home it used to be. Her spiritual home, she says. He is sure Ivan feels the same as she does, even though it is also his first visit to this place – they are family, after all. As for himself, he realises, with a sadness like nothing he has felt before, that he doesn't have a spiritual home. Throwing all his energy into helping repair, clean and awaken the sleeping house, adding a layer of the habitable to the spiritual, he is more than ready to believe her when she says he is young yet and he will know when he finds it. That may be true, but he senses it is something she has always known, that she had no need to discover, and it makes him feel inferior.

And now she has told them they shouldn't be there. Her smile seems just for him and he is reassured that she is speaking from concern. She looks at him in a way that makes it perfectly clear she does not want them gone.

The sound of the front door opening echoes down the hall. Zora frowns.

‘I didn't expect him tonight.'

He and Ivan exchange a glance.

A formidable-looking man enters the room and he shivers as he is touched by the fresh, cold night air that accompanies the newcomer. The intense jealousy he feels as Zora rises to greet their visitor, embracing him warmly and kissing him on both cheeks, is irrational but real. The same goes for the fear he feels under the hostile, disapproving gaze. His grasp of the language is insufficient to understand the man's question and Zora's rapid reply, which adds to his disquiet.

‘I was telling him my nephew and his friend have come to stay,' she tells them. ‘This is my good friend Lek.'

Without knowing why, he is fully aware that the man is more than a good friend. Lek's face is expressionless as she presents them. She introduces him as Å ojka, the name she gave him when they first came last year, saying it sounds so much nicer in their language, suits him so much better, than
Džej
. He agreed willingly; from the moment they first met she has made him feel older, interesting, an exotic foreigner – someone more special than he really is. But now, though his expression does not change, Lek's eyes bore into him, unequivocally conveying that being named for a bird is something to be despised. It is a challenge.

Unsure of the etiquette, they stand to shake Lek's hand. He makes himself look straight into the man's eyes and ensures his handshake is hard and strong. It is a challenge he accepts.

‘You are welcome here,' Lek says, glancing possessively at Zora, ‘but you will soon wish you had not come.'

The nature of his smile makes it clear he is in deadly earnest.

Chapter 12

The orange-tinged dawn was clearing to a dirty daylight by the time Vinko headed back to the corner shop, his collar turned up against the drizzle. He was grateful it had only just started and he'd managed to do most of the round in cold but clear air. When the weather was right, if he had to choose he might even say he preferred the paper round to his main job at the factory, though he hated both. On mornings like this he would simply think of the extra money through a haze of embarrassment and regret at the impulse that had made him respond to the card in the window a few weeks ago. The other paper rounds were the territory of boys who seemed half his age or less – he couldn't remember ever feeling that childish. Their initial phase of mocking his accent had by now settled into a respectful distance, and he was happy to keep it that way.

As he rounded the last corner his heart sank as he saw the silver car parked across the road. Giving his uncle a minimal wave he disappeared into the shop to hand over the empty bag and the reflective vest, trying to stall for time by engaging Mr Choudhury in conversation as he bought his tobacco. Today, the shopkeeper was more interested in the customers and getting his own small children off to school on time than chatting to an oversized paper boy.

He lingered in front of the magazine rack gathering his thoughts. Two calls from Novak in as many days had been ignored, but now he had to make some kind of decision. He desperately wanted to feel he belonged somewhere, but although he'd warmed to Anja, Boris had eyed him with suspicion from start to finish and he couldn't imagine them ever offering him a way in. It would be a while before he could face going back. Now he had to deal with Novak's insistence. Whatever he felt about the family that should be his, he had no taste for the job he'd been given, either. Then again, if Novak paid him well, he would have no need to depend on anyone. Anyone at all. After a few moments he reminded himself that if he stood for much longer by shelves of headlines that meant nothing to him, he'd miss his bus to work. He steeled himself and stepped out onto the street.

Novak grinned as he crossed the road to the car.

‘Going up in the world, are you?' He nodded towards the shop.

‘I can't stop or I'll miss my bus.'

His uncle gestured towards the passenger door and Vinko reluctantly accepted the offer of a lift.

‘So, have you seen them yet?'

‘I went, yes.'

‘And?'

‘Nothing you'd be interested in.'

Novak turned out onto the main road and put his foot down, swearing as he dodged to avoid two young girls crossing the road.

‘Watch it,' Vinko muttered, gripping the edge of his seat. ‘We'll get stuck in traffic whatever you do. No need to kill anyone.'

‘Since when have you been able to drive? Shut it.' He slammed his brakes on within inches of the last car in the tailback. ‘So, bore me. What did you talk about?'

‘Nothing. My father. The past. All right? I didn't tell them I knew you, where I live, where I work, so you've no need to worry on that account.'

‘Did you find anything out about the money?'

‘I looked in a few drawers. Found nothing. No one said, “Hello Vinko, so lovely to see you, now can we give you a tidy sum to set you up in life?” And I didn't ask. One thing I don't do is beg.'

‘That's exactly what you will be doing if you don't start showing some respect. Listen, son, you were in trouble when you came to me. The way you're talking anyone would think you're squeaky clean. We both know you're not. I've helped you, set you up here, and now it's your turn. Not even a favour – I've said you'll get your share. My friend's getting impatient. I need to be able to tell him something.'

‘Tell him I don't want to know!'

The traffic lights were on red and Vinko moved to get out. The central locking clicked on.

‘Not so fast. I've got some information might help you. Someone my friend would really like to see. If you could track him down for us… Play your cards right and not only will you get yourself a decent financial reward, but he could also help you with old Boris Pranjić. It's a long shot, but… We're ninety-nine per cent certain he's the one who gave them the money, so we think he must be living somewhere in the area. He was a friend of your father's. I was told to ask if you knew him.'

‘I don't know anyone.'

‘Then you can help us to look.'

The traffic started moving and they drove the rest of the way in silence. Novak stopped the car a little way down the road from the factory. The expensive glow of the dashboard clock told Vinko he was early.

‘So,' his uncle said as he offered him a cigarette. ‘
Do
you know Jay Spinney, by any chance?'

‘No.' He lit up and inhaled deeply to avoid looking at Novak. ‘What makes you think I would?'

‘Like I said, he knew your father. You'd think he might have wanted to get to know his mate's lad. Do something for you. But that was down to me in the end, wasn't it?' He sighed dramatically. Vinko stared through the windscreen. Much as he hated to admit it, it was true. Novak had been there when no one else was. But that didn't mean he had to trust the man.

‘Look, what's going on? Who is this “friend” of yours? If he even exists.'

Novak gripped his wrist so hard it hurt and pushed the glowing tip of the cigarette to within a centimetre of his face. ‘Like I said, boy, time you started showing some respect, right? Let's just say he's called Lek. That's all you need to know – and if you don't buck your ideas up you'd better hope you never meet. He's been inside till recently so he needs the money. And he has a strong suspicion our friend Spinney might have had a hand in putting him away, so you'll understand he's also got personal reasons for wanting a reunion. Enough information for you?'

Novak released Vinko's arm, took a drag of his cigarette and produced a photo from his pocket. Vinko was fairly sure it was the same man he'd seen in the picture Anja Pranjić had shown him a few days ago. Young, with short wavy hair and a clean-shaven face – Vinko still couldn't be certain it
was
the busker he'd seen in Holdwick. He shook his head. Novak stowed it away. ‘Keep your eyes and ears open.'

‘I'm not promising anything,' Vinko muttered.

‘I know you won't let me down. You've got a phone; use it. Let us know the moment you find anything out.'

He released the lock, smiling unpleasantly as Vinko made his escape.

Chapter 13

‘Did you have a good day?'

As Jay got into the car and she set off towards home, Marilyn wondered if her voice betrayed the fact that she'd missed him. It was Friday afternoon and, with the barn's concrete floor laid and hardening, she'd spent the best part of the day at the craft centre workshop while Jay had returned to the marketplace. He leaned over and gave her a quick hello kiss and she realised how much having him around had come to mean to her. It was just under a week since he'd appeared, even then getting on with his digging as if he'd always belonged there, but it seemed more like a month. They'd achieved a lot; Alan still couldn't tell her when he'd be ready to turn his attention to her barn, and she was seriously beginning to wonder if she needed or wanted him to. She liked having Jay around.

‘Mike Greene was pleased to see me – I honestly wondered if he'd remember me. You know, I think I saw one or two shoppers from last week and I'd swear even
they
remembered me.'

He sounded boyish in his pleasure at the recognition.

‘That's great. You're already claiming that territory as your own.'

The silence surprised her like something tangible. She gave him a moment then glanced at him. ‘Jay? I said—'

‘Yeah, I could be a regular. That'd be good.' He stared at the road ahead. ‘Anyway, I can get to know the bus routes, go a bit further afield.'

‘You don't want people getting too familiar with your stories, do you?' she said, trying to understand his sudden change in mood.

‘I've got quite a repertoire, and I'm always putting new stuff together.'

‘Sorry, I didn't mean—'

‘I know you didn't. It's me.'

‘What? Was there something wrong in Holdwick?'

‘No, it was good. I like it round here.'

‘So what's bothering you?' she insisted.

‘What the–?'

A car overtook them in a ridiculously tight spot as another appeared round a bend. Marilyn had to brake hard, as did the approaching car. Jay swore at the receding tailgate of the overtaker then grinned at Marilyn in relief. The previous moment had gone and, as her pulse slowed from the adrenalin of the incident, she realised she was glad she'd been saved from pushing it with him. There was no point; he'd told her little more about his life before they met than she'd learned in the first couple of days – there were fleeting moments when he seemed to want to, but he always backed off, covering his momentary weakness with flippancy. It was probably for the best; she was enjoying their growing intimacy but was wary of getting too attached. He would leave, sooner or later. It was bound to happen and she would handle that when the time came.

‘Nice one,' he was saying. ‘You handled that well. Good job, too – I don't want anything happening to my gracious employer.'

She smiled. His teasing reassured her – that lighthearted banter that kept it all at arm's length. A working partnership, a friendship. Sex. She had even become used to his occasional brief mood changes. They never lasted and certainly never implied any blame of her.

‘I don't want to feel I'm tying you down,' she found herself saying later, over dinner. ‘I could manage. You know…if ever you felt you needed to get away for a while.'

‘What makes you say that? I've got a job to finish.'

‘I was just wondering,' she ventured. ‘I know how much you love the freedom of life on the road. Something I said earlier, about establishing yourself a pitch…it seemed to get at you. I'd hate you to think I'm trying to commit you to anything you don't want. I'm not.'

He finished his mouthful and grinned.

‘I don't even know myself what got into me. If anything did.'