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“Ah God, it’s good to see the pair of you,” Nat said. “Feels like the end of a particularly craptastic chapter, finally having the pair of you back in town.”
“It’s good to be back.” Lilith rubbed at her shoulder blades. “You been okay since you flew home?”
The last time we’d seen Nat he’d been standing in the dock at Newcastle Crown Court, calmly taking the jury through the litany of filth he’d uncovered by dismembering Blaine’s hard drive, and he’d looked more than a little wild around the eyes by the time he’d finished.
“Yeah, just about. Took a couple of days off and went on a mighty bender, mind you. Fuck knows how you managed to sit through the whole thing.”
“Vodka, mainly,” I said from the back seat, not entirely joking. I leaned my head against the door pillar and watched the streetlights flash by, illuminating the way to somewhere called ‘home’.
“Any more interesting post?” Lilith asked.
“Ah…” Nat began.
“That’ll be a ‘yes’, then?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t ask. A couple of dozen fan letters, a handful of threats, on screen and on paper - anything from your basic mutilation, all the way up to a lingering and painful death when you least expect it – oh, and a rather delightful request from a gentleman in Cheshire for a pair of your knickers. Worn,’ Nat said.
Lilith gave a howl of laughter. “Really? Oh good lord, I’ve finally made the final rung of celebrity; somebody actually wants my pants! Do you think he’d pay? That could be a whole new market for me. D’you think I should send him my thong from today? I’ve been wearing it for about twenty hours now – maybe I could charge him extra…”
“For fuck’s sake, Lilith!” Nat interrupted. “I find it slightly worrying that you seem more interested in some old perv’s used underwear collection than the fact I’ve just told you that there seems to be a steadily growing queue of people who want your head on a plate. It’s not exactly common to have to take the entire contents of your best friend’s mailbox to the nearest bloody police station, you know.”
“Nat sweetheart, I’ve been receiving dodgy emails and letters since I realised that painting people without their clothes on was an indecently decent way to make a living,” Lilith said, and gave him a reassuring pat on the thigh. “All that’s happened since we managed to ruin the lives of an international squad of dirty bastards is that the frequency’s increased. That’s all.”
“That doesn’t make me feel much better. This is pretty scary shit, as far as I’m concerned.”
“I know, I know. And I’m even the tiniest bit sorry for being facetious, believe it or not. But I can’t let it bother me; that way lies madness. I’ve got to believe that we’re as safe as we can be here – and let’s face it, the whole town’s pretty much got our back. It’s time for a little normality, I think.”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “Good luck with that one, crazy lady.”
*****
It took us an hour to get to the outskirts of Santa Marita. One of the reasons Lilith had chosen it as her home was its seclusion; apparently it had missed out on the developments that blighted the rest of the coastline thanks to the hills that rose up to the west of the settlement. By the time a tunnel had been blasted through, only thirty years ago, the building boom had finished and the little town had escaped, relatively tourist-free and looking the same as it had for the last two hundred years. More than once I had heard Lilith refer to it as her fortress, and from the first time we’d approached the place it was easy to see why. I only hoped that one day I would feel as safe within its boundaries.
Nat was expertly driving the jeep through the narrow streets that led to Lilith’s home when she turned to him. “So, who’s the lucky girl?”
“Fuu-ck!” We swerved into the middle of the road and narrowly avoided a moped heading in the opposite direction as Nat momentarily forgot how to steer. “Next time you decide to do your vaudeville act, wait ‘til I’m parked up, woman.”
“Sorry,” Lilith said, not particularly sounding it. “But anyway, who is she?”
“There might not be…”
“You’ve told me about the mail, and you clearly didn’t want to do that. Now there’s still something on your mind, but it isn’t bad news and yet you still can’t quite look at me. So what did you say her name was?” Lilith gave him a grin that was entirely evil.
“Vanessa Latimer. And I hate you.”
“No way. Vanessa Latimer as in ‘Yacht Club royalty Vanessa Latimer?’ As in, ‘Dear Ms Bresson, please do not pollute our lovely club with your foul mouth and pornographic paintings, lots of love, Christian Latimer, Dictator for Life’? And you dare to take the piss out of me for being part of the Santa Marita élite?”
Nat now looked as though he wanted to be somewhere on the other side of the world, and I was happy to sit back and listen to their banter.
“Yes, that Vanessa,” Nat said. “But she’s different; her dad drives her mad. I’ve only been seeing her for a couple of weeks.”
“So when do I get to vet her?” Lilith asked.
Nat exhaled loudly. “Seriously? I’m still vetting her myself. I wouldn’t dream of letting her anywhere near the pair of you until I’m a hundred percent sure that she’s not going to be any trouble. Maybe my birthday, next month? I thought we could maybe all meet up for drinks and then take it from there. That would keep it as safe as possible.”
“Oh, and now I nearly feel guilty for taking the piss.” Lilith kissed her fingers before placing them softly on Nat’s cheek. “Thank you.”
“I’m not doing it for you, you horrible creature,” Nat said. “I’m doing it for my mate in the back seat.”
