21

The following morning, after they'd been waiting in the layby for almost two hours, Julien gave in, much to Ilya's relief. Not that Ilya was running out of topics of conversation, he had plenty of those, but he had a feeling Julien was getting fed up of him talking.

Julien started the engine. "We'll drive into Deal and have brunch on the pier."

"You do know that the moment we set off, they'll be behind us."

They weren't.

Luckily, their Airbnb in the town had a designated parking spot not far from the property and they left the car there.

"The bed ought to be messed up a bit,"

Ilya said. "Just in case Lors checks it was used."

Julien laughed. "I'm all for messing up the bed. That sounds fun. On the way back to the car. Okay?"

"Now I'm all excited."

"It was hard enough to keep my hands to myself in that layby. If I hadn't been worried that we'd be seen…"

"I didn't want to distract you."

"You always distract me."

But Julien's smile reassured him. "Everything you say is fascinating."

"Now I know you're lying. Your eyes glazed over when we tried mental chess."

"I don't have the phenomenal memory for chess moves that you seem to have."

At the top of the street, they reached the seafront and Ilya whistled. "Wow! Look at that. It's so long! What an erection!"

"I assume you're talking about the pier."

Ilya blinked. "What else could I mean? There's nothing like that in Russia. What about France?"

"There are a few, though this one is longer than any of them. I think they're a British thing. The Victorians and their engineering."

They set off along the pier, which was dotted with anglers. When Ilya started over towards one of them, Julien tugged him back by the sleeve of his coat. "We don't want to be remembered,"

he said quietly.

Ilya nodded. He'd been going to ask the guy if he'd caught anything, but Julien was right. It could get them caught.

The restaurant at the end looked like a timber-framed shed with a lot of glass. Julien asked for a table well away from the restaurant's entrance. They took off their coats and sat side by side facing the sea.

"Feels like we're in the middle of the water,"

Ilya said.

"It does."

They chose what they wanted to eat and the coffee was brought straightaway.

"Have you thought about what you'd like to do when this is all over? Is there any chance of you being a doctor again?"

"Possibly. It's very difficult to get reinstated after you've been struck off. I don't know if I can stomach what it would involve. The hearings, going over it all again, courses I'd have to take to get up to speed. I'd be unlikely to be allowed to return to surgery. I could retrain. Choose a different field. Maybe pathology. At least someone wouldn't be dying in front of me."

"Hey! You didn't kill them. Stop beating yourself up about it."

"I failed my brother."

Ilya gripped his hand under the cover of the table. "Don't say that. You know how badly injured they were. You tried to help. And when you put their hands together…that would have meant the world to them."

"I… I moved them apart before the paramedics arrived. Abrek was too far gone to notice. But I felt bad."

Ilya suspected that would always be the case. "I'm not sure what I hope happens after we die, but to leave this world holding the hand of someone I loved, that would be everything. You gave them that."

"It's something,"

Julien said quietly. "But I'm still angry. The police have closed the file. No one's been held accountable."

"That would make me angry too. Did you talk to Sébastien's friends? Did they know Abrek?"

"One of his close friends said the two of them were soulmates."

His voice broke on the last word.

"Did Lors and Borsha know Abrek was gay?"

"I doubt it. I didn't tell anyone what Sébastien had asked me to do, nor what he'd said. Not my parents because I knew it would just upset them more. Not the police. I couldn't see it was of any relevance."

He sighed. "Maybe I was wrong."

"Chechens have a terrible record as far as homosexuality's concerned. They've been known to round up gay men, beat them and torture them. It makes me wonder if Borsha is behind this."

"He'd kill his own brother because he was gay?"

"It might have been an accident. Maybe Borsha went there to kill Sébastien, and Abrek got in the way. Abrek said the word brother to you. He had defensive wounds. Sébastien didn't."

Julien swallowed hard. "He was saying I was Sébastien's brother."

"Are you sure? Not trying to tell you his brother did this?"

"No, I'm not sure. Fuck it."

"You're not the bad guy. None of it was your fault."

Ilya rubbed his thumb over Julien's knuckles.

"Have I been blind all this time?"

"Maybe, but it's not as if you can do anything about it. Borsha's never going to admit it, is he?"

The food arrived. Poached eggs on wilted spinach on toast for Ilya and a lobster roll and skinny fries for Julien.

"Perfect poached eggs."

Ilya had pierced the yolk with his fork and it had run over the toast. "How's yours?"

Julien turned to Ilya.

"You'll never guess,"

he whispered. "The four have just walked in. Don't look."

"I wasn't going to."

Though he nearly had.

"We'll stay until they pay, then follow them."

Ilya's heart was beating faster. "What's the plan?"

he whispered.

"Let's hope the American pays. I'm going to move to sit opposite you so I have a better view. If we know the whereabouts of the wallet, it improves our chances."

Two tables away, the group had all hung their coats over the back of their chairs. Ringbold's coat was closest to them. Ilya was pretty sure the wallet was in the pocket they could see. There was something about the squarish shape under the material.

He leaned across to whisper to Julien. "When they're talking to the waitress, I'm going to go to the counter to look at the pastries. I'll have a coughing fit and pretend I'm choking. You rush to me and check the closest pocket on the way. If you do the Heimlich, be gentle."

Julien opened his mouth, no doubt to say no, but the waitress had walked up to Ringbold's table and Ilya pushed to his feet. He coughed as he walked. By the time he reached the counter, he had his hand over his mouth and was doing what he thought was a reasonable impression of choking to death. God, I'm good at this.

As Ilya staggered around, staff and some customers converged on him. Then Julien was at his side and Ilya allowed himself to be manoeuvred so he was facing away from those eating. Julien held a napkin in front of his mouth and thumped him five times on the back. Hard. Fuck that hurt! Ilya gasped and leaned forward to press his face into the material.

"Got it,"

Julien whispered.

Ilya hoped he meant the wallet and not his tonsils.

"Is he all right. Do we need to call an ambulance?"

one of the employees asked.

"I'm…okay."

Ilya was helped to the nearest chair and given a glass of water. He watched out of the corner of his eye as everyone sat back down or returned to their seat, including the American. Julien brought over their coats. He put forty pounds on the counter and helped Ilya out.

"Don't let's rush off,"

Ilya whispered. "Looks suspicious."

Julien sat him down on one of the bench seats that ran the length of the pier and rubbed his back.

"Is the coin in the wallet?"

Ilya whispered.

Julien nodded. "Yes. We do need to get out of here."

When they were off the pier, Ilya felt a little easier. Julien didn't open the wallet until they were sitting in the car. There the coin was, sitting in a small holder.

"Wow. It's pretty."

Ilya smiled at him. "Well done. Thanks for saving my life. What did I choke on?"

"I put a piece of toast in the napkin. That worked really well. It was a good idea. Though we might well be suspects when he discovers it's missing."

"There were so many people milling around, it could have been someone who just took advantage of the drama. I still can't get over what an idiot he is for carrying something of that value in his wallet."

"I know. But the job is done and the faster we're away from Deal, the better. Sorry about our plans to mess up the bed in the Airbnb."

"Another bed will be fine."

They collected their bags, and once they were on their way to London, they both relaxed.

"Did I hurt you?"

Julien asked. "I had to make it look realistic."

"I thought I was going to cough up my appendix."

Julien laughed. "You do know—"

"I know. Do you feel bad about taking the guy's wallet?"

"It's stealing. I'm never comfortable taking something that doesn't belong to me but I've tried to stop feeling guilty. It's a necessary evil. That's the way I look at it. Not everything I stole made me feel bad but some jobs left me deeply ashamed. Lors will get what's coming to him one day."

"You hope."

"I hope. I need to leave you somewhere while I take the coin to him. I could park in Greenwich and go into London on the tube. I'll come back and get you and we'll return to Driftwood. We can use the Blackwall tunnel to cross the Thames."

"How long do you think you'll be?"

"If I'm lucky, fewer than three hours, assuming Lors is there. But it might be longer. Maybe he won't be there until tomorrow. Do you have enough money to get yourself a room?"

"Yes. Please be careful. Don't go suggesting Borsha might have killed his brother because we both know how that will turn out. Remember, I still haven't had that fun you promised."

"You're not worried I'm going to disappear with a three-million-pound coin?"

"I know you won't. There is no one I've ever trusted as much as I trust you."

Julien shot him a smile.

After Julien had parked in the station car park in Greenwich, he locked the car and tried to hand Ilya the keys. "Driftwood's key is on there too."

"No. I don't want them. I can't drive, remember? I just want you to come back."

"I will—"

"Don't you dare say but."

"I will come back. I won't call you until I've done with Lors. I don't want him to take this phone from me and see your number. So don't call me, okay? But if—"

"I said no buts!"

"Listen."

Julien put his hands on Ilya's face. "If I do call you and I tell you to run, then you run, and not to Driftwood."

"Now you're scaring me."

He pulled Ilya into his arms. "I'll come back."

Oh God, I'll try.

Julien might not be into public displays of affection, but they were in a not-very-busy carpark. Did that even matter? If they'd been in the middle of Greenwich, Julien would have still kissed him. Do not think this might be the last time. Julien felt desperate and he had no idea what to do about it.

It was Ilya who pulled away. Julien was pretty sure he couldn't have.

"That is not a goodbye kiss,"

Ilya whispered.

"It was an I can't wait to get back to you kiss,"

Julien managed to say.

"Good. Be careful. Don't get robbed."

Julien had promised Ilya he'd come back but as he sat on the train, travelling towards the Mandarin Oriental, he hoped he could keep that promise. Before he left Greenwich station, he left a message for Lors, saying he was bringing him what he wanted. There had been no reply. Julien hoped the guy was at the hotel by the time he arrived. If not, he'd have to wait.

When he gave his name at reception, Keram came to fetch him. Julien was searched outside the suite and allowed inside. Borsha was in there with Lors and there was something about the way they looked at him that set Julien on edge. Had Borsha smirked? Julien felt more uneasy than he usually did. Although was that for once, he had someone to go back to, someone who cared about him, someone he cared about too.

He offered Lors the wallet. Lors opened it up and smiled.

"Okay!"

he shouted. Not to Julien.

A door opened and Ringbold walked in. What the fucking hell?

Lors handed the guy the wallet. Julien pressed his lips together. He should have thought more about the likelihood of someone carrying a coin that valuable around with them. But even if he had, he'd still have done this job. Was this it? That was his last job? Some sort of test? Except… No, that didn't make sense. He stopped himself swallowing. He didn't want anyone to think he was nervous, but Ilya had been seen by Ringbold and his family. Oh shit. Think fast.

"You can almost see gears in brain clicking,"

Lors said. "Thomas my friend. Rival but still friend. I bet I could get coin from him."

"You said I was a fool for keeping it in my wallet. You were right. I've learned my lesson."

Ringbold laughed.

Do you know who you're friends with?

"How did you know we'd eat at that restaurant,"

Ringbold asked.

Julien shrugged. "I didn't."

Ringbold raised his eyebrows. "So it was pure chance?"

"Almost."

I have to save Ilya. "I planned to watch the place where you were staying, and follow you, but I didn't need to. Lots of people who visit Deal like to eat at the end of the pier. I decided to give it a try, see if there was anything useful to learn about it. I was halfway down the pier, talking to an angler and saw you coming. I persuaded the angler to join me and we hurried inside."

Please don't remember we were already in there eating.

"The young man who create diversion?"

Lors asked.

"Just someone who was happy to earn fifty pounds and a meal for a dramatic performance."

"I really thought he was choking."

Ringbold gave a short laugh. "You knew exactly what to do."

"He was doctor, once upon a time,"

Borsha said. "Not good one."

Julien didn't rise to the bait.

"But an excellent thief,"

Ringbold said. "Maybe I could hire him."

"We'll see,"

Lors said. "You can go now. Stay close. Battersea is there for you to use for my convenience."

Julien nodded and left. All the way to the door he kept expecting Lors to call him back, to tell him they knew it was Ilya. Even when he reached the street, he still found his throat blocked with fear.

He was heading for the tube when he had a text from Lors. The final job was a delivery to and from France in a week's time.

Was that how long he had left to live?

Julien powered down that phone. Until he had all the details, he couldn't dispose of it. Then he went to a lot of trouble, travelling all over the underground and above ground until he felt it was safe to return to Greenwich.

When he was about ten minutes away, he called Ilya.

"Hi,"

Ilya said.

Julien could hear the anxiety in his voice and felt bad he'd put it there. "Everything's fine."

It wasn't, but… "I'm close now. Go back to the car."

"Okay."

He should have thought to give Ilya code words for safe and not safe, but it was too late now.

There was no sign of Ilya when he reached the car and Julien stood waiting close to it. He wished his heart wasn't pounding, but it was. It was possible Lors was playing some long game. Maybe Borsha had been in Deal and seen Ilya. Maybe even that short chat to Ilya had told Lors his location… Fucking maybes.

Then he saw Ilya coming and the relief was so profound, his heart lurched hard enough to make him gasp. He pulled Ilya into his arms and held him tight. It took a few minutes before he could bear to let him go.

"What is it?"

Ilya said into Julien's chest. "Did you get robbed? Are we heading for a Bonnie and Clyde moment? I want to wear my sexy jacket if we are."

"Wait until we're out of here."

Ilya put two carrier bags on the back seat and climbed in the front. Once they reached the Blackwall tunnel, Julien told him what had happened.

"Oh my God. I wonder how much the bet was?"

Julien hadn't even thought about that. "I have this worry that Borsha was in Deal and saw you. He knows what you look like. But then why would they have let me walk away?"

"We were careful, but were we careful enough? If they know I'm with you, maybe they're going to sell that information to my father."

That had occurred to Julien. "When I get all the details of the final job, I'm going to speak to the police. I'll ask for my parents to be protected."

He took a deep breath. "I might have to go to prison."

Ilya gave a shocked gasp. "What?"

"I've been breaking the law for three years. I could have gone to the police sooner. That won't be overlooked."

"Can't you make a deal with them? Maybe you should speak to a lawyer first."

"Maybe."

"Thing is, will this last job be real? He tricked you with the coin. What if he does that again? He knows you want to be done with him. He could make sure you're arrested."

Not arrested. More likely dead.

"Plus he'll know you're not in Battersea and not using the car."

"Don't let's talk about it anymore."

"Okay. I bought dinner. I'm going to cook. I had to search high and low for the ingredients."

"What are we having?"

"Cheese on toast."

Julien laughed.

"Gyoza and mixed vegetables. Have you had gyoza before?"

"I don't think I have. Are you going to make them, whatever they are?"

"Yes, unless you spot the packet they're in."

Oh God, I really like you.

It was dark by the time they pulled up at Driftwood Cottage. Ilya had fallen asleep and for the last hour, the journey had been silent. Julien had kept a watchful eye on any car that seemed to be following them for too long. None had. Before he'd got too close to their destination, he'd pulled off, then doubled back. For the last two miles, there had been nothing behind them.

Ilya woke as he switched off the engine. Julien sat looking at the cottage and Ilya's hand slid over his. "Don't waste time worrying about what might or might not happen. I am going to cook. You're going to be in awe."

Julien was already in awe.