Chapter Forty-Three Si
Si had spent every spare moment of the afternoon trying to call Zig. He kept getting the message “Sorry, the person you are trying to call is unavailable.”
Why wasn’t Zig available? Si knew he’d charged his phone—he’d seen it plugged in by the bed like it was every night. Why would Zig have switched it off?
Maybe the power to the socket hadn’t been turned on? Si had done that once or twice.
In the end, he gave up trying to get through to Zig and called Esme.
“Es, is Zig there? I can’t get him on his phone.”
“No, I haven’t seen him since this morning. But—”
“Has a bloke been round asking after him?” Si cut her off.
“I was about to mention that. I see those psychic abilities are coming along nicely.”
“No—look, Es, it’s important. Was it an older bloke, uh, with a gold tooth?”
“Yes. He said he was Zig’s father and that he’d heard Zig was living here.
I didn’t much like the look of him, to be honest, so I simply said that any guests you might have were none of my business, there was nobody in the flat at the moment, and I couldn’t say when anyone might be back.
I invited him to leave a number, which he declined. ”
“Es, you’re a treasure.”
“Is he Zig’s father?”
“Seems so. But he’s bad news.”
“I could have told you that. I had to burn sage to cleanse the atmosphere after he’d gone.”
“If he comes back, call me. If you can’t get me, call someone else. Or . . . or the police. I mean it, Es. He ain’t good news.”
“Noted. And if I see Zig, I’ll tell him to call you.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up. Si’s stomach was churning. It was killing him, being stuck at work while Zig could be in trouble. Thank the gods he wasn’t out on calls this afternoon—or would that have been better? Maybe he could have kept an eye out while he was on his way around?
A customer came into the shop, and Si forced himself to focus on home security. Once they’d gone, he checked the time. Almost five. They closed at six; should he beg off early? Say it was an emergency? Another customer came in before he’d come to a decision.
Sod it. How much harm could Zig’s dad do in—Si checked—three quarters of an hour? It’d take most of that for anyone to get here to cover him. Course, he could close the shop early . . . but that wouldn’t be fair on the customers. Or the boss. And for what? A vague presentiment of doom?
Every second seemed to take an hour to tick by as he watched the clock—when he wasn’t dealing with customers or answering the phone.
When Si finally looked up from the last call, it was two minutes past six.
He surged into action, flipping the sign to Closed, locking the door, cashing up, and finally, finally grabbing his coat.
Si only stopped at the flat long enough to be certain Zig wasn’t there, then he headed out to the Prince of Wales. Gods, the streets were full of people. He wanted to shout at them to get out of his way. Didn’t they know this was an emergency?
Could be nothing, though, a voice in his head kept on telling him. It sounded a bit like Sash. Could be Zig’s dad found him, Zig told him to piss off, and everything’s hunky-fucking-dory. Si wished he could believe it.
He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice Adam until he’d practically walked slap bang into him coming out of the pub.
“You’ve spoken to Zig, then?” Si blurted out, taking a step back. It was decent of Adam to come out to warn him.
“Yeah . . .” Adam’s tone was grim.
It worried Si. “And?”
“He’s not inside. I asked at the bar. They said he’d gone out the back to talk to this older bloke who came in asking for him.”
“You mean his dad.” Si took a step towards the side alley.
Adam grabbed his arm. “Right. Look, maybe hold back a mo?”
“Why, for gods’ sake?”
“Well, for a start, if you go barrelling in there in the mood you’re in right now, you might end up starting a brawl. Zig ain’t gonna thank you for losing him his job.”
“I ain’t in a mood,” Si growled out.
“Mate, you look like you’re this close to punching someone.”
“I can control myself.”
“Can you? And . . .” Adam made a face. “You’re not gonna like this, but . . . Zig told you him and his dad had fallen out, right? That he sent his dad to jail. So how come when I stuck my head round the back, I saw them having a cosy little conversation like nothing’s wrong?”
“That’s . . .” Si’s brow creased. “Hang about. I don’t think his dad knows it was Zig that got them banged up.”
“Huh.” Adam paused. “In that case, all the more reason not to barge in like you think his dad’s about to deck him or worse. You don’t wanna give the game away, do you?”
“S’pose not.” Gods, Si’s knees went weak at the thought of putting Zig in danger.
“Right. So there’s no need for the rescue mission.
He’s not a bloody damsel, and he doesn’t look all that distressed to me.
We tried to warn him, and we didn’t make it, but it looks like he’s handling it on his own just fine.
So we let them have their chat. Chances are, Zig’s gonna tell you all about it when he gets home, yeah? ”
Si wasn’t daft. He knew what Adam really meant was, See if he tells you about it, then you’ll know if he’s been honest with you.
Half of him wanted to say bugger that—he trusted Zig—but the other half, the shameful half that remembered all too well the pain after they’d split up six years ago, seemed to be in charge right now.
It wasn’t a betrayal of Zig’s trust, was it? It was simply giving Zig an opportunity to be open with him.
“Fine.” Si’s heart clenched painfully, and he let Adam lead him away.