Duck and Dive — Secret Services
The Fragile Web of Secrets & Lies - Part 3: Nora Watches & Waits
“I’ve gotta nip down the ‘Ollybush,” Jimmy told me.
His hair was damp and he was dressed in clean jeans and a shirt I’d ironed yesterday.
“The Hollybush? I thought you were taking me dancing?”
My shoulders sagged. It’d been a deadly dull week in the staff room. The only thing that had got me through the photocopying and mountain of paint and glue pots to wash up, was the thought of losing myself on the dancefloor.
“I ‘aven’t forgotten Nora,” he tugged my hair. “Make yourself irresistible while I get this bit of business out of the way. I’ll be back at eight. We’ll get a taxi to Diamond Dogs after that.”
“You promise?” I chewed a hangnail.
I knew the way Jimmy got, how his confidence was oiled by pints of lager, which sideswiped his punctuality. I also knew that particular pub was frequented by skeevy-looking blokes who sold knock-off stuff on street markets or drove long-distance lorries and weren’t averse to making use of anything that ‘fell off the back’. Jimmy having business there wasn’t great news.
“Why would I leave my best girl home alone on a Friday night?”
With a cheeky wink, he shrugged into his jacket and descended the stairs, his footfall heavy in his thick soled shoes.
“See you at eight,” I called, but my voice couldn’t compete with the slam of the front door.
By the time the clock’s hands were inching mercilessly towards nine, my despondency warred with irritation. Where was he? I stood to look out of the window, hoping to see Jimmy’s tall physique hastening home. The glow of the streetlights on the pavements was an uninterrupted wash of amber.
“I could murder you Jimmy …” I muttered through gritted teeth.
But a flicker of something caught my eye.
One of the cars parked further up the road had an occupant, who was smoking. Just like a couple of weeks ago, I discerned the glowing tip of their burning cigarette.
Worry flared, icy rivulets down my spine. This was too creepy. I turned off all the lights in the flat and, crouching, crept back to the sash window. I hoped that I could keep vigil without being observed.
A little time passed and I saw Jimmy, turning the corner, slightly unsteady on his feet. When he drew level with the car, its door swung open, blocking his path. I gasped and gripped the sill, my breath caught in my throat.
I observed Jimmy bend at the waist, leaning towards whoever was in the car; unguarded, made affable by beer. I watched what seemed to be a conversation between him and the smoker. Then two legs swung out of the driver’s door and the occupant stood, moving away from the car; standing in Jimmy’s personal space.
“What the …?” I choked out. “They know each other!”
To be continued next Wednesday …
Image by Inna M on Pixabay
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