Chasing Stars by Helen Douglas

Author:Helen Douglas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2014-02-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Back in my hotel room, I hung my suit in the wardrobe and changed into something more comfortable, a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. I lay on the bed and scanned the com-screen till I found a news channel.

They were speculating about events inside the courtroom. It was a closed trial, and none of the reporters had a clue what was actually going on. I saw myself arriving and leaving. The usual comments about star-crossed lovers were made. I saw Cassie arrive and leave, and Ben. A woman who was identified as Travis Deckard’s widow was the only witness who spoke to the camera. She accused Ryan of murdering her husband so he could be with his girlfriend.

I needed to get out. I tucked my hair inside the baseball cap Peg had lent me and crept out the back door of the hotel. So far this was still safe. The hotel backed on to a lane filled with service trucks and the stench of overflowing dustbins. Holding my breath, I hurried to the end of the lane and made my way back to the main road. A quick glance over my shoulder told me the press was still hanging around outside the front of the hotel. I’d done it.

I strolled to the waterfront and watched the pleasure boats for a few minutes. If I’d had cash instead of the stupid flexi-card that announced my identity to the world, I might have bought myself an ice cream and stayed there longer. I didn’t want an ice cream enough to trade in my anonymity.

I left the waterfront and wandered slowly through the backstreets of Lakeborough. Whereas the main streets were wide and clean and felt like they could have been any city anywhere, the backstreets had a different feel altogether. There were fruit and vegetable markets along one lane, a flower market along another, hot food traders along a third. The lanes smelt of rotting vegetables and rose petals, of sharp blueberries and fried rice. My stomach rumbled and I realised I had completely forgotten to eat lunch. It was half past four by now. I probably would have started heading back to my hotel room to order some food, but I suddenly found myself outside the gambling den where Peg and I had hidden a few days ago. Peg’s apartment was only a couple of minutes away. I had no idea whether or not he would be working, but decided to give him a try.

The greasy noodle bar underneath his apartment had a busy afternoon trade. Children, dressed in a smart blue school uniform, queued up to buy a small tub of sweet cricket noodles. Once again I wished I had cash instead of the flexi-card; there was no way I was willing to sacrifice the secrecy of Peg’s apartment for a carton of greasy noodles.

The door to the apartment complex was open so I climbed the stairs and knocked loudly on Peg’s front door.

He answered the door dressed in nothing but a pair of brown trousers and a loose vest.

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