Page 122 of Into the Dark

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Page 122 of Into the Dark

Nick sits up, alert. “Not the old copper factory? The one on the corner of Bond Street?”

I shrug. I don’t know London like how Nick and Jake know London. “It’s called Surgery.”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Fucking hell, Al, your boyfriend owns it?”

A little rumble of fear moves over me. Does Nick know something about the new owner of the old copper factory? What if Jake’s reputation precedes him in London circles that aren’t just his own? What if Jake’s name and what it means is known in my brother’s circles too? Oh god, why haven’t I ever considered this? I feel sick.

“You know it?” I swallow.

He nods. “We were trying to book it for one of our production companies, Ramshackle—they’re shooting a film adaptation, some vampire book set in London. They wanted a nightclub and were quite particular about how it should look. Had to be a certain size with a certain number of windows and split-level.” He rolls his eyes. “Anyway, one of the girls had been there and said it was perfect. Raving about it, literally. But when we called they wanted something ridiculous for the week we needed it for. Like serious money.” He shakes his head in disgust.

“Well, he needs to make a living,” I say noncommittally. A legitimate one. The relief I feel at Nick having no clue about the man who owns their much-desired location is immense. “Where did you book in the end?”

“Nowhere—we’re still looking. Like I said, they’re being really fucking particular.” He raises his eyebrows and grins at me, giving me one of his bright, puppy-eyed innocent smiles.

“Something you want to ask me, Nicholas?”

“Well, you know how you’re my favorite sister? And how I always do favors for you whenever you ask me…?”

“Mm-hmm, it has been known,” I reply as I sip my tea.

“What would he say if you asked him very nicely?” He gives me a lascivious wink, and I screw my face up. “Wow, okay that was weird.” He visibly shudders, and I laugh into my tea. “But this is an up-and-coming film company, Al, like a sister company of Annapurna. The director and main cast is British, and it’s going to be fucking huge. Apparently, the book is huge. And it would be great for his business too. And if I could pull this out of the bag it would make me look really fucking capable, you know.”

“I know.” I nod. “When is it you need it for?”

“Filming starts in about eight weeks? They’d need the club for about a five days to a week at the start of November, but they’re flexible on that.” He stands and goes to retrieve his phone from where it’s charging on top of the microwave.

I glance down at my own phone in case Jake’s texted, but there’s nothing there since the last time I looked at it five minutes ago. I can’t do this all day.

“I’ll ask him on one condition: you’ll consider talking to Mum and Dad. For Jin. Only for Jin.”

That familiar look of fear flickers over his face. “Would you come with me?” he asks, blue eyes wide and vulnerable. “If and when I talk to them, would you be there?”

“Of course I would.”

He grins broadly. “Okay. I’ll think about it. For Jin.”

“And I’ll talk to Jake when I see him later.”

“You’re amazing. Anyone ever told you that?”

I sigh. “Not this morning, but it’s still early yet. So, what are you up to for the rest of the day?”

“No plans yet,” he says before lifting his pastry and shoving the last half of it into his mouth. “You?” he asks around it.

Oh, just sitting around worrying that the father of my child hasn’t been driven off by the gangster boss he’s informing on to be murdered and dumped in the Thames… “Nothing. Fancy seeing a movie?” I suggest.

Nick and I used to go to the cinema a lot on Sundays when I lived in London. We’d turn up at the Picturehouse in Piccadilly and see whichever film was next to start as long as it wasn’t based on a comic book. It was a throwback to our Sunday night movie nights at home. We’ve only done this a few times since I moved out to Shere, and it feels somewhat nostalgic to be walking along Shaftesbury Avenue toward the cinema.

The streets are packed tightly and the day is hot like yesterday, so there’s barely any queue when we get there. Most people want to be outdoors soaking up the sun, which I can understand, but today I like the idea of losing myself in the dark for a few hours.

While Nick buys the tickets, I check my phone, but there’s still nothing from Jake. I tell myself it’s for no other reason than because he’s driving or his hands are busy, and I decide to switch it to vibrate rather than turn it off completely.

“The girl warned me it’s in French,” Nick says with an eye roll as he approaches and hands me my ticket.

“Oh, it is? I’d never have guessed,” I quip.

He chuckles and suggests we buy an ice cream before going inside.




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