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‘Yes. That’s him in the navy hoodie.’
‘Stay here,’ he says, springing up before I can object.
Unnoticed, he makes his way towards the bar. But it’s only a matter of time before the man notices him. Everything seems to happen in slow motion. Just as Taylor reaches him, the man catches sight of him, jumping up from his bar stool and shoving him so hard that Taylor loses his balance. Then he is running for the doors, disappearing from sight.
Taylor manages to grab a bar stool to stop himself falling, and within seconds he’s chasing after him, yelling at him to stop. But of course the man doesn’t listen. I grab my bag and sprint after them.
I scan Putney Wharf, the indistinguishable crowd that floats in front of me, but there’s no sign of either of them.
‘Taylor!’ I shout, but my words wither and die in the cacophony of traffic and voices.
And then I see him, walking towards me, clutching his stomach. Dark red blood drips from his head.
And then he collapses in a heap on the ground.
TWENTY-THREE
I sit in the hospital waiting room, feeling as though I have no business being here this time. It’s not my husband in there being checked over by doctors.
But it’s all because of me that Taylor is here now.
We’ve been here for three hours, and Cole didn’t buy one word of my excuse that I’m not feeling well and had to go home. The lies are so tiring. I don’t know how much longer I can keep it all up.
‘But Ella’s coming in at five,’ he’d said, as if that could change the state of my health.
‘You’ll have to interview her,’ I’d told him. ‘Get her to fill out an application form and the job’s hers. See if she can start tomorrow.’
‘Are you sure about this? You’re normally so fussy. I’d hate to?—’
‘Doyoutrust her?’
‘Yes. One hundred per cent.’
‘Then that’s good enough for me.’ I’d hung up, just as Taylor had been called in by the triage nurse.
Taylor walks towards me now, a large dressing covering the cut on his head. ‘They said I can go. But I’ll need someone tostay with me for twenty-four hours. Concussion. Just in case something happens. Sam’s away but I’ll call another friend. I’m sure he won’t mind having a night in for a change.’ He pulls out his phone.
‘No,’ I say, placing my hand on his arm. ‘I’ll stay with you. It’s your place. You should be where you feel comfortable.’
‘Won’t Poppy mind? I don’t want to make things worse.’
‘I’m sure my mum won’t mind having her overnight. It’s the weekend, so she won’t have to worry about getting Poppy ready for school. And tomorrow is when the money is due.’
‘Come on, let’s get an Uber to my house to pick up my car.’
Night-time has crept up on us by the time we get back to Taylor’s. He lies on the sofa, while I make tea.
‘Shall we order pizza?’ I suggest, and then I laugh at how ludicrous it is that we’re talking about what takeaway to order when Taylor could have been killed. And when Max is out there, hiding in the shadows.Planning what?
‘Yeah, anything,’ Taylor says. ‘I’m not that hungry, though. My head feels like it’s been crushed.’
‘He’s a loose cannon, to say the least, isn’t he? Whoever that man is?’
He nods. ‘I told him you had the money. I was trying to make him stop. But he didn’t want to listen to me. And you’re about to give him fifteen grand.’
I ignore his comment. ‘Do you think he’s the same person who stole your phone and attacked you last time?’
Taylor considers this. ‘Maybe. Probably. I don’t know. When my phone was stolen, there were two of them, though. Maybe he has people he works with. I don’t know what those people do.’
