or heard from him and they’re worried. About to call the police.’ I shrugged my shoulders in what I hoped was a disarming manner. ‘We’re trying to find him before that happens.’
He scooped his hair back and tied it with a piece of elastic he had plucked from his wrist. ‘Still don’t know where he is.’
‘When did you last see him?’ I asked.
‘He came to collect his wages.’
‘When?’
‘Pay day’s Friday.’
‘So you saw him last week?’
‘Week before.’ He dumped another crate of beer bottles on the counter and unpacked it, turning his back to us in order to stack the shelves. We waited a few moments before he glanced over his shoulder at us and said: ‘In fact, when you do find him, you can tell him from me, he’s sacked.’
‘Are you worried for his well-being?’ asked Jo. ‘Have you alerted the relevant bodies?’
‘Come again?’
‘An employee doesn’t turn up for work, doesn’t ring. Don’t you have some kind of duty of care? To make sure he’s OK?’
Bill pulled himself up to standing and turned to face Jo. ‘Who do you suggest I ring?’
‘The guy’s disappeared and no one gives a fuck,’ said Jo. ‘Who said society is dead?’
I moved to stand on the left-hand side of Jo so that I was between the two of them. I tried to ease her down the bar, away from Bill, using slight pressure from my right hip. Jo stood firm.
‘Do you know anyone who might know where he is?’ I asked.
Bill continued to stare at Jo. ‘You want me to ring his mother every time he don’t turn up for work?’
I felt genuinely sorry for Bill. He’d ended up on the wrong side of Jo, and when that happens you’ve got no chance.
‘Did you ring him even?’
‘Dint need to. His housemate came here. Said he’d done a runner and took his Xbox.’
‘Pants or Brownie?’ I asked.
‘Come again?’
‘The housemate?’
‘The guy with the piercings. Dint catch a name. Carly’ll know.’
‘Who’s Carly?’ I asked, but Bill clearly considered the conversation over.
He lifted up the part of the bar that snapped to the wall, allowing him an exit route, and picked up the two empty crates. He strode off back across the dance floor without saying goodbye.
I put my hand on Jo’s arm. ‘Steady tiger,’ I said. ‘Doesn’t help to get people’s backs up.’
‘It was a PlayStation last time we got told that story.’ She turned round and leaned against the bar.
The blonde girl returned, the one who’d let us in originally, and took over the space behind the bar that Bill had left. Jo persuaded her to sell two bottles of Tiger beer and asked her to point Carly out to us. She glanced around the cavernous space then gestured towards a young woman coming out of the women’s toilets. She carried industrial-sized toilet rolls, wearing them like bracelets. I led the way across to her, Jo still swigging her ice-cold beer. Leastways, I assumed it was ice-cold. Ice-cold and smooth as honey.
‘Hi,’ I said to Carly.
She frowned, an I-don’t-think-I-know-you kind of a frown. She had green eyes, and freckles splattered across the top of her nose like paint drops.
‘Bill says you might be able to help us?’ I waved in the direction of the bar even though Bill was long gone. ‘We’re looking for Jack.’
A burst of noise splintered through the sound system, bringing the place to life. Sound echoed off the walls as the lights dimmed. The DJ had obviously arrived.
‘What you want?’ Carly shouted to be heard.
Jo raised her voice to compete with the music. ‘We’re looking for someone and Bill says—’
‘You found him?’ Even in the dim light I could see her face grow pink.
Jo was still shouting out the remainder of her sentence: ‘know where his mate is?’
‘You know Brownie?’ I asked, my throat feeling the strain. Was the music always this loud in clubs? I haven’t been in one since I gave up the booze. I’ve somehow always managed to persuade Jo to get out of town before last orders. I realized as we stood there that I’d never come clubbing again because nightclubs are not intended for sober people. Being out of it is part of the deal.
‘How?’ Carly shouted.
‘What?’ yelled Jo.
We all frowned at our separate conversations. My eardrums pounded. Carly beckoned us into the toilets she’d just stepped out of. A hundred memories assaulted me. I always end up in the toilets, no matter what club I go to. In fact, most of my happiest memories of nightclubs are in the toilets. There’s something safe about the confined, women-only space. The volume decreased by a decibel or three as the door closed behind us.
‘You know Jack?’ I asked.
At the same time as she said: ‘Who are you?’
‘We’re looking for him. Know where he is?’ said Jo, offering her one of the bottles of beer she’d just bought.
‘Oh.’ Carly’s face fell. ‘No. Wish I did.’ She stacked the toilet rolls on top of the counter next to the sink, and I caught sight of the watch on her wrist. Almost nine.
‘When did you last see him?’
‘What’s it to you?’ she said, taking the bottle of beer Jo held out and putting it down on the side, next to the sinks. ‘I’ll get sacked.’
‘We need to find him.’
‘Why? Who are you?’
‘Do you know where he is?’
‘No.’
I didn’t trust her. There was something about the way she refused to make eye contact.
‘We need to find him,’ said Jo. ‘We believe his life is in danger.’
Carly turned away from us and sank her face into her hands. Silence. I watched her run her fingers over her skin like she was washing her face. Finally, she peeled her fingers from her eyes and said: ‘He’s disappeared off the face of the earth.’
I stared at her. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t think who. She looked like she might cry as she picked the beer back up. ‘I shouldn’t really.’
‘Do you good. You’re upset. Not heard from him then?’ said Jo.
‘No, not a word,’ she said. ‘Who are you?’
‘Friend of a friend,’ said Jo, as I wondered where she was going with this.
‘What friend?’
‘One of his mates. From college. She’s worried about him. What about you?’
‘I work with him, is all,’ she said. ‘“Friend of a friend”? Who?’
‘She doesn’t want people to know,’ I said.
Carly turned to stare at me. ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘You don’t have to believe us,’ said Jo.
‘Is it Liz?’
I glanced at Jo and we made a face at each other, like maybe we were nervous that Carly was on the right track.
‘You can tell her to get lost. He’s not