Chapters (29)
Amy’s flat – the one she lives in herself – is on a small street of Victorian terraces separated by floor into flats and rented (or sold off) by the council. I tried her doorbell: no answer, but Clive came to the window and peered at me.
‘Hey, Clive – it’s Paul, remember?’
Clive is retired and lives as a council tenant in the flat underneath Amy’s. I had once answered the door to him when Amy was having a party. We were being quite civilised, in our opinion, but he was worried that the number of people we had in the living room was going to make the ceiling collapse. When Clive complained we moved everyone out to the pub. I hoped he remembered me fondly.
‘Paul? Yeah. I remember. Not so old I forget a face yet.’
‘Have you seen Amy?’
‘I was hoping you’d tell me where she is. She’s got people staying upstairs again. Airbnb, what have you. She knows she’s not allowed to do that. Council regulation. I don’t know who these people are I see coming in through the front door. I get nervous. And they loud too. I understand if girl needs money. I understand that! But can you tell her to tell them girls to nah do so much clomping on the damn floor. Sounds like they stabling horses up there.’
‘I’ll tell her. Haven’t you seen her for a while?’
‘I don’t know. Two months ago, more?’
‘Was she all right then?’ I asked, thinking about what kind of a brother it was who allowed his sister to go missing for two whole months.
‘I don’t know. I asked her if she’d had a nice Christmas. She just shook her head. “I know that feeling,” I said to her. I never seen her again. She in trouble?’
‘I hope not.’
‘What about her job?’
‘She doesn’t work there any more. They won’t tell me any more than that.’
‘Sounds like she ran away. Well, she’s still taking those bookings.’ He pointed down to a little key safe at the foot of the door. ‘Look at this thing! I’ve a good mind to take a hammer to it. You need to find her and get her to talk to those upstairs. Or I’ll have to call the council.’
‘I’ll find her,’ I told him. ‘I will.’