The Impossible Fortune - 9

Elizabeth climbs the three steps onto the minibus. It’s been a while, but Carlito is still there in the driver’s seat, now with added moustache.

‘Welcome back,’ says Carlito.

‘Thank you,’ says Elizabeth. She sees Joyce wave to her from the back of the bus.

‘For goodness’ sake, Joyce, there’s no need to wave. There are only twelve seats on the whole bus – I think I would have found you. I did use to be a spy.’

‘Me too,’ says a small man in the front row. Elizabeth considers him and suspects he might be telling the truth. She makes her way to sit beside Joyce.

‘Ready for action, Joyce?’

‘I have a flask of tea, some dried apricots and a hangover,’ says Joyce. ‘I’m ready. Any news on what we’re doing?’

‘We’re going to see Nick Silver,’ says Elizabeth.

‘My son-in-law’s best man?’

‘Paul’s best man,’ confirms Elizabeth. At some point Joyce is going to have to stop saying ‘my son-in-law’.

‘And why are we going to see him?’ Joyce asks.

‘This and that,’ says Elizabeth, as the bus pulls away.

Joyce nods. Elizabeth notes that her friend has got so much better at not asking unnecessary questions. The two friends sit in silence for a while, Elizabeth adapting to the world whizzing by and Joyce leaning a flushed cheek against the cool of the bus window. Joyce looks over at her.

‘You’re not hungover?’ You drank just as much as me.’

‘The moment I got in I drank two raw eggs with Tabasco sauce,’ says Elizabeth.

Joyce nods. ‘I ate some wedding cake, then had a Baileys.’

Elizabeth wonders why she has taken Joyce with her today. Nick Silver had approached her in confidence, had asked her to come and see him. She could easily have done that alone. Probably should have, in all honesty. Have a chat with the man, see what was what and find out exactly what those codes are hiding. Let it all filter through her mind and come up with a plan.

Perhaps there’s nothing in it? If that is the case, it’s simply two old women enjoying a day trip to the seaside. But what if there is something? One hopes so, one really does. The pictures of the bomb look real enough. She knows someone who’ll know for sure.

Should Elizabeth really be worrying Joyce about all this? Nick Silver is friends with her son-in-law after all. Is it fair to Joyce to involve her? If Elizabeth has finally chosen to dive back into trouble, that’s her business, but why involve her friend when she doesn’t need to?

Elizabeth looks over at Joyce, who is morosely chewing a dried apricot.

‘How much do you know about Nick Silver, Joyce?’

Joyce removes her cheek from the window and swallows her apricot. She breathes out slowly in the manner of someone not entirely convinced they’re not about to be sick.

‘Paul met him at university. Paul did Sociology, but I think Nick did a proper degree. Maths or something.’

‘And they set up a business?’

‘No, Nick has a business with another one of their friends; Paul just put some money in at the very beginning.’

‘Holly Lewis?’

‘Holly something,’ says Joyce. ‘I’ve never met her. You’re asking a lot of questions.’

She is asking a lot of questions, Elizabeth has to admit that. And then, of course, she understands exactly why she has asked Joyce to join her today. Because, however much Elizabeth has missed trouble, she has missed Joyce more.

‘Fairhaven,’ calls Carlito from the front of the bus. ‘I see you here at three. Don’t die, no refunds.’

As they file out, Carlito takes Elizabeth’s hand.

‘It really is nice to have you back,’ Carlito says. He tilts his head towards a photograph on his dashboard. Carlito and a woman, both smiling, the photo and the fashions a little faded. From ten years ago perhaps? ‘It never gets better, but it gets easier.’

Elizabeth squeezes his hand and follows Joyce out of the minibus. Time for them to get the measure of Nick Silver.