Cover Story - 13

‘Don’t you worry junk food is going to destroy your looks?’ Aaron said to Bel, as she, unobserved she thought, nibbled on her ice cream, the following Wednesday. ‘My sister’s always on about UPFs. She caused a ruckus telling her mate at a baby shower that the sugar in red velvet cupcakes causes cancer. It’s that thing … hyper … what it’s called?’

‘Hyperactive?’ Connor said.

‘Hyperpalatability!’

‘Firstly, it’s one mint Magnum,’ Bel said. ‘Secondly, nice sexism – would you say that to a man? Did you time travel here as an ad exec from Sterling Cooper?’

‘It was a compliment in disguise, I’m only mithering,’ Aaron said.

‘Yeah, wrapped like a tenner round a brick through a window.’

Connor was smirking. That sight roused Bel further.

‘Also, bad science. Looking good as you age is genetics and sunblock. But they don’t tell you that, because they can’t charge you anything for the first or much for the second.’

‘Who’s they?’ Aaron said.

‘Big Celery.’

Aaron hooted with laughter and Bel was annoyed at herself for being gratified.

‘I don’t hold with your body being a temple. You should enjoy it. They wear out in eighty years, either way. Your body is Alton Towers,’ Bel said.

‘A great ride,’ Aaron replied.

‘Ewww. Can you send me the top six paragraphs of your motorcyclist death story? Toby wants to see if there’s a longer piece in NHS response times in the North West.’

‘Will do, doll.’

What was all this newfound fuss over her being conspicuously attractive? Was Aaron trying to embarrass or intimidate her? Bel didn’t think she was a sight, nor did she believe herself owt special as Yorkshire had it. At the right time in her menstrual cycle, in obliging lighting, she could pass as reasonably enticing.

But she was no trophy girl – Connor Adams, for example, was certain to think she looked like a toe. She suspected Aaron was responding to the zoo-like captivity of their outpost office; she was the only lady panda he could mate with.

‘Getting old is no sausage party, right enough. My dad always says the young never think they’re going to be old, and only the unluckiest ones are right,’ Aaron said, trying on a philosophical air.

‘Fuck,’ Bel said, putting her wooden stick down on the wrapper, ‘remind me never to risk the psychological impacts of “having a snack” in here again.’

Connor’s mouth twitched a smile again. Bel couldn’t tell if it was amusement or sarcasm, as usual. Laughing with her or at her.

‘Hey, Adams,’ Aaron said, checking his laptop screen, ‘you’re up. Reported threatening behaviour incident in Victoria Park, some fucker with a plastic pirate’s cutlass, the DI tells me. He’s wearing a bed sheet as a cape and shouting about “spreading the word of Saint Cuthbert’s potency”, so sounds like a psych ward job rather than counter terrorism’s. Fancy getting down there with your notebook?’

‘I mean “fancy”, might be overstating it, “prepared to do it”, more accurate,’ Connor said, finishing his coffee in one gulp as he stood up, opening his taxi app with one smooth movement in the other hand.

After he’d departed, Aaron said: ‘He’s about as much fun as food poisoning on a ferry, but fair play, he’s a hard worker. Every crap job I throw at him, he takes without arguing. Cicely woulda filed an harassment complaint if I’d asked her to go to Pret.’

Bel noticed a notification from Signal, which turned out to be Ian confirming their meeting tonight.

It was the result of a Bel prompt to him over the weekend. She was turning and turning the Rubik’s Cube puzzle, trying to get the click. She’d sent:

Bel

Hi Ian. Quick Q. Where did GB take Erin for their private times together? Thinking he’s too famous for hotels, unless he was hiding in cleaning carts?

Ian

I asked her, and her answer was extremely interesting. So much so, I think it’s worth us meeting again.

Bel

You know I said rendezvous at a greasy spoon? How about the Hong Kong tearoom version, the Happy Valley café opposite Strangeways? It’s such a wild-card choice that it’s surely unlikely we’ll see anyone we know, and having done thorough background reading, I can confirm there’s incredible toasted sandwich options?

Ian

It’s as if you know me.

If she was honest, Bel half suspected that the Mayor story would fizzle. Not through any bad faith, or untruth, but because Ian was rightly scared of being unemployed in midlife as a whistleblower. Erin would move on, or move away, as twenty-four-year-olds did.

Bel had it filed away for when something resurfaced, because one thing she knew for sure, men like Glenn Bailey didn’t stop.

She’d ingested so much about the Mayor now, consumed so many newspaper reports and such a ton of social media, she felt less like an amateur sleuth and more like an obsessive fan. They were in a parasocial relationship.

Great day meeting the staff and patients at Wythenshawe Hospital

Pint of the 0% black stuff! Thanks to The Freemount. Much needed *shamrock emoji*

Honoured to be asked to cut the ribbon on this new sports centre which will be a fabulous resource for Heaton Park

When you re-elected me I pledged to address the rise in antisocial behaviour around Piccadilly Gardens

This refuge’s work is vital for women and children fleeing domestic abuse

Every time, Bel squinted at the weathered, lean, trustworthy face beneath streaky, strawberry blonde hair, and tried to put it together with a man who told a twenty-four-year-old intern he’d kept her nudes as blackmail.