Blood Relative by David Thomas Read Free Book Online Page A

laughing. ‘And I am one of the architects.’
    The WAG’s eyes widened, she reached across the table and grasped Mariana’s arm. ‘Oh my God!’ she squealed. ‘You and your fella could help us with our house. I mean, you couldn’t be worse than that other old bugger, could you?’
    And so we became architects by appointment to the Premier League, installing private cinemas and games rooms for the players, and spectacular kitchens, bathrooms, master bedrooms and walk-in wardrobes for their wives. We became experts in gyms that put most health clubs to shame, and indoor pools big enough for Olympic swimming events. Our years of learning how to save money and get fancy effects at budget prices were now at an end. All our clients wanted was the best, brightest, newest and smartest, no matter what it cost.
    I have to admit, I loved it. All architects dream of working for clients with bottomless pockets. When those clients can also provide free tickets to private boxes at Anfield and Old Trafford, or backstage passes to their girlfriends’ concerts, or invitations to parties where half the other guests are household names … well, I defy anyone not to have their head turned.
    I discovered, too, what a moreish substance money can be; how quickly one becomes used to it; how extravagances that once seemed unimaginable become part of one’s normal, everyday expectations. My values were distorted: I admit it. But these were the boom years and there was a lot of distortion about.
    As for Mariana, well, for the first year or two I worried that she would leave me for one of our fit, young, over-paid clients. Plenty of them had a go. That’s what footballers do. Even the most apparently effete or nitwitted of them is a fierce competitor, a ruthless survivor who has only arrived at a professional career after a process of elimination that has seen hundreds of other young hopefuls fall by the way. Yet Mariana rejected them all, batting them away with her wit and charm, ensuring that no offence was taken on either side.
    Instead, she put all her effort into winning over the women. Once they knew that she wasn’t after their men, the WAGs loved being able to chat with a girl their own age. Mariana knew about fashion. One moment she could talk about the latest hot handbag and the next explain the technicalities of clients’ building plans in language they could understand. Our business depends on word-of-mouth for new commissions, and the word among footballers’ wives was that Mariana was a star.
    And all the time, every minute of every day, I lived in the knowledge that Mariana wore my ring on her finger; that wherever she spent the working day, she spent the night with me.
    *
    I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I remember is dreaming that I was back at the house, looking down at Andy’s body. He was talking to me, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying so I kept asking him to speak more clearly, then shouting at him – really angry because I was so frustrated – until Andy started trying to get up, so that he could make himself heard, and then he was sitting up and getting to his feet and …
    I forced myself awake and there I was again, back in the cell. And for a brief moment that stark confinement felt like a place of safety.

WEDNESDAY
     
    In the morning I was given breakfast. Then I stared at the wall. There was nothing else to look at. An hour after the empty plate had been taken away, when the panel slid open for the second time, I said, ‘Excuse me.’
    ‘What is it?’ came a voice from outside the door.
    ‘I’m going out of my mind with boredom here. Can I have something to read, please?’
    ‘What do you think this is, t’ bloody Hilton? You’ll be wanting coffee and biscuits next …’
    The panel shut again, leaving me embarrassed and defeated in equal measure. But a few minutes later, there was a rattling at the door and the custody sergeant came in, holding a loosely