Алия Уайтли: The Loosening Skin

Fear, pain, guilt. Sadness.

When I reach the Skin Centre I stand outside the doors and call the number on the card. To his credit, he answers the phone himself and has the decency to sound surprised.

‘Okay,’ I tell him. ‘I’ll poke around. But that’s all. I have a life here.’

‘I know,’ he says. ‘I saw it.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means thank you. I know how hard this must be for you. I didn’t realise—’

I cut him off, and go back to work.

Petra’s office, once Rose finally located it, turned out to be in one of those back alleys that had been squeezed into the shadows of other buildings. A supermarket depot jostled up behind it, the two separated only by a high wall upon which had been arranged a regiment of broken bottles. Hammersmith Road was in front, the cars bunching up and loosening in a continuous concertina.

It was locked up tight. She pressed the doorbell, and an outline appeared through a small central panel of leaded glass.

‘It’s Rose,’ she said.

The unbolting of the door took an age.

‘I could have lost another layer, that took so long,’ she said, when Petra’s face was finally revealed. She felt the muscles of her cheeks contorting but refused to cry. Petra wasn’t the kind of person she felt she could cry on.

Petra pointed at her leather backpack. ‘Is that all?’

‘What?’

‘You shed your skin on the floor of a superstar, then break up your fabulous romance, and that’s all you bring? I expected at least one suitcase filled with money, or statuettes, or something.’

‘I don’t want to take anything of his.’

‘Don’t be such an idiot.’

‘I can’t help it. Can I come in?’

‘Yes, sorry, manners. Come up, come up.’ She stood back and admitted Rose to the tiny hall that led to a steep wooden staircase. ‘Space is money. The door on the left.’

The bolts were slammed back into place behind her, and then she heard Petra’s fast feet drumming up the stairs. The room on the left was a surprise: larger than she thought it would be, and lighter, with tall windows. It had a halfmoon shaped pine desk in one corner, and a rubber plant in a bronze pot opposite. The plant exuded health, the shiny leaves tilted upwards. Apart from that, there was a yellow chaise longue with scrolled arms, squarely in the centre of the room, and an open fireplace with a pillared mantelpiece, painted white. Upon it were stacked letters and bills, photos and manila folders, and a silver lighter. But the room did not smell of smoke, and there was no ashtray in sight.

‘You told Phin?’

‘Yeah,’ said Rose. ‘Now what?’

‘Now you come and work for me. With me, if you prefer. Is that okay?’

She nodded.

‘I’m an investigator. Fancy being one of those?’

Could this new skin be an investigator’s skin? She wondered at how quickly she had left her last self behind. The self-assurance of the bodyguard, wiped away. But she already knew, this time around, that what she had lost in confidence she had gained in curiosity. There was so much she wanted to know, such as why the love disappeared and how the hate managed to stay behind, intact. If there were answers to be found to any question, she wanted to do it. ‘What do you investigate?’

‘The worst things.’

‘Do you stop them?’

‘Always,’ Petra told her. There wasn’t a speck of doubt to be found on her in that sharp suit. She inhabited the office, and the work. Whatever it was. ‘Always. One way or another.’

A leave of absence from the shop is the hardest part to arrange. Head Office wants a return date. Eventually we settle on a Monday a month away, and I don’t mark it on the calendar, which tells me something about my state of mind.

It’s not even as if my moult is due. I should have at least another five years, but I feel done with this version of my life already.

The fast train from Grantham, then from King’s Cross to Waterloo, an easy journey out of rush hour. I try to ignore the tight feeling London gives me in my chest; is it simply the stale air of the Underground? Down to Petersfield, which is a tight, monied kind of a town, secure in itself. I decide once I get there to hire a car rather than take a taxi using the expenses card Max had couriered up for me. The note that came with it bore his handwriting, but didn’t tell me anything useful such as how much of his money I could spend, or how much he would be paying me. I’m guessing he didn’t even think about such issues.

The approach to his Sussex house is the same: undeveloped stretches of rural land for so many miles around, green fields, dotted trees that darken the sky. But then, he owns it all, so the current building boom wouldn’t affect him. The tall fence with the high spikes still runs alongside the road for miles, and then broadens out into a set of gates – chunky, not flashy. Definite in their discouragement. I pull up to the metal pillar that houses the intercom and have a short conversation with a guy who sounds familiar, but I’m not certain that it’s Mike until I’m admitted and he comes out of the booth beside the beginning of the gravel drive to greet me. I get out of the car and find myself giving him a genuine smile.

‘Look at you,’ Mike says, holding out his arms and then dropping them again before I can mistake it for the offer of a hug. ‘You look great.’

‘You look the same,’ I tell him. He really does. ‘Don’t you age? I can’t believe it, eight years and here you are.’

‘Ah, well, it’s just a job. I never get the itch after a moult the way some people do.’ Then he flushes, and I realise he’s embarrassed.

‘I have to get out straight after. Same every time. Sorry I never said goodbye. It’s just how it takes me.’

He nods and we’re over the awkward moment. ‘Mr Black said you were coming to see the safe room. They cracked it without a scratch. I’ve never seen anything like it.’

‘Were you on duty?’

‘Yep, and nobody came through here. I’ve checked the perimeter since, twice. It’s intact.’

‘Nobody through the gate – not even a legit caller? A girlfriend, boyfriend?’

‘Nobody. The only thing that was different that day was Taylor – the bodyguard – changed her day off. The replacement came down, signed in early in the morning, and stayed until the following morning. She’s covered for Taylor before, she’s all right. But she said she didn’t hear anything. Max took two sleeping pills and was out like a light. He’s lucky they didn’t strip him of the skin he’s in now.’

It’s a horrible crime, but I’ve heard of worse. ‘Max in?’

‘Filming on the estate. He’s got a village set up there, caravans and everything, for this new thing he’s working on. Nobody’s staying at the house.’

‘So there’s a lot of people out on the Downs, then? Actors and crew?’

‘Fifty plus.’

I roll my eyes and he smiles. It’s a security nightmare, basically. ‘I’ll have to go poke around.’

‘Starting in the house, though, right?’

‘Yep.’

‘It’s great to have you around,’ he says. He leans forward. ‘None of the ones who have come after have been a patch on you.’ He gives me a set of codes and leaves me to it. I was unprepared for the emotion, but it really is good to see him.