She swept the torch around again.
There was no one there.
Alberto was gone, with faithful Sandor at his side.
He’d evaded the Feds and now he would simply slip out of the country and disappear. Layla was overcome with anguish as the magnitude of it hit home. She was never going to see him again. Never.
And then they saw the flashing blue lights and heard the sirens. The police had arrived.
‘Fuck it,’ said Max tiredly. ‘The cavalry’s here.’
Annie didn’t remember going home. All she knew was that she woke up one morning in her own bed, and her head hurt like hell, her eyes felt like they’d been scrubbed with Brillo pads, and her mouth was dry as the Gobi desert.
‘What the…’ she moaned, turning on to her back, her eyes flickering open and then instantly closing again as the sunlight pouring through the window scoured her retinas.
Fumbling, barely awake, she sat up, forced her aching eyes open and squinted around her. Yes, she was home. And she was – as usual – alone. And… oh now she was going to be sick. She stumbled from the bed and went to the bathroom and threw up. Then, groaning, she cleaned her teeth, rinsed her mouth, took two paracetamol out of the medicine cabinet and tossed them down with a glass of water, and tried not to look at the mess in the mirror. She failed. There was a large bump on her brow. The cosh. She fell back into bed, and was soon asleep again.
‘Is she going to be OK?’ asked Layla anxiously.
‘She had a skinful, that’s all. She’ll be fine,’ said Max.
They were in the drawing room, Layla sitting on the sofa, Max pacing up and down.
‘That bastard forced booze down her,’ said Layla. ‘She never drinks. She hates it. She’s not used to it.’
‘Yeah, well, he won’t be doing that to anyone else.’
Layla watched her father stalking around like a caged tiger. She’d seen a different Max these past few days, a tough and terrifying Max. Thank God he’s on my side, she thought. She wouldn’t ever want to be one of Max Carter’s enemies.
‘I thought we’d lost her,’ said Layla in a small voice. ‘Maybe we should have taken her to hospital? That bump on her head…’
‘The police doctor said she was OK,’ said Max.
Layla fidgeted uneasily. ‘I feel bad, you know.’
Max stopped pacing. ‘About what?’
‘When you two split up. Divorced. I was so rotten to her.’
‘Ah, forget it.’
‘Sometimes it seemed as though she didn’t love me. She never showed it much.’
Max looked down at her in surprise. He shrugged. ‘Of course she loves you, don’t be daft.’ He paused. ‘You know what? She was never very close to her own mother, Connie. That old bag hated her. Loved Ruthie, but hated Annie. So she never got any hugs or any “I love you” off her own mother. Maybe that just seems normal to her.’