Sleight of Hand [Show 'em Who's Boss #1]

5: Alethophobia

I carefully shut the front door behind me, taking care not to alert anyone that I was home. The day spent at work with Jakob had been fun, but now I was a spy in my own home once again. I was partially hoping that I'd overhear some more intriguing conversations which I wasn't meant to know about. These conversations might allow me to piece together the truth about my father.

     Going to work with Jakob was easily one of the best things that had ever happened to me. It had really opened my eyes and made me realise that I really don't need to be wasting my time at school. We'd easily earnt a few hundred pounds today. If we performed on the street everyday then one day we could have enough money to move away from home and start a proper life together, without the help of my father's money. I couldn't help but smile at how nice that would be.

     It hadn't been part of my plan to go to work with Jakob, but I was pleased that it had produced such a positive outcome, even though I had more important things to be doing (such as spying on my father). I still needed to convince my father to involve me in his work. It was crucial that I find out as much as possible about his business.

     The day before, when Jakob forced me to go to school, something happened. Something which really made me think. I had been sitting in my business studies lesson staring into space, thinking about changing my fighting technique against Jakob, as Mr Stanley discussed business plans for the hundredth time. Mr Stanley noticed that I was spaced out and decided to pick on me, like the irritating old teacher he is.

     "Ebony. Do either of your parents work?" he asked. I ignored that fact that he'd said 'parents'. Teachers often say stupid things without realising it. Then again, he's probably unaware about my mother'a death. It did happen years ago.

     "My father runs his own business, sir," I replied. Mr Stanley nodded his head.

     "What sort of business does he run?"

     I didn't have the answer to this question. In fact, I couldn't answer any questions about my father's business. I always tried to show such an interest in his work, and yet I knew next to nothing about the business. When I asked questions I was only ever told that work was going well at the moment or that Uncle Steve had saved my father from making a stupid decision. Why didn't I know anything about a business my father had been running for years? Was my father keeping something from me, or was I just being paranoid?

     "I'm afraid that information is classified, sir," was the best response I could up with. Indeed my statement appeared to be true, though. It was certainly classified from me.

     From that moment there were three thoughts permanently engraved in my mind. (1) Why was my dad so secretive of his work? (2) What were my father and Uncle Steve talking about last night in his office and (3) Jakob. I spend far too much time with Jakob on my mind. I often thought about how much I hated him and yet how much I wanted to love him at the same time. The problem is that love does not exist. That is one of the very few things Jakob and I agree on. A few weeks into dating Jakob I had told him outright that I didn't, and I would never, believe in love. I explained that no such thing exists between two people and Jakob completely agreed with me. We'll never, ever say 'I love you' to each other because the concept of love exists only in the imagination. If you believe in love then you clearly do not have a firm grasp on reality.

     I wandered up to my bedroom to change. I was still wearing the ridiculous leotard as I'd refused to use those disgusting public toilets again. Jakob had laughed and called me a snob, but he didn't go change in the toilets either. When I caught sight of myself in the full-length mirror a gasp caught in my throat. The outfit did things to my figure that I didn't even know were possible. Jakob had probably enjoyed the magic routine a lot more than I had. All I could see as I looked in the mirror was cleavage and curves. I couldn't believe I had been walking around London like that all day!

     I didn't hesitate to throw the costume in the bin as I searched my walk-in wardrobe for clothes that were more me. As I was changing I caught sight of the costume in the bin again. I tutted as I picked it up and hung it in my wardrobe; I had to keep it if I stood a chance of convincing Jakob to let me work with him. Once my normal state was regained (denim shorts and a check shirt) I decided that an adventure in Skyrim was necessary so I began to head downstairs to the games room.

     Something stopped my silent steps on the stairs though. A voice could be heard coming from my father's office once again and I couldn't believe my luck! This time there was only one man speaking, Uncle Steve, and it was clear by the prolonged gaps between speech that he was on the phone to someone. My stomach dropped as I realised this one-sided conversation wouldn't make much sense to me either.

     Clues were better than no clues though, even if it was going to cause more confusion. I tiptoed along the corridor once again, being even more cautious this time because I didn't have the darkness to hide me. When I was close enough to hear what Uncle Steve was saying, I paused and held my breath.

     "I know but-"

     He sounded worried. That was odd; Uncle Steve is usually the calm one. My dad is the businessman who can't control his emotions. I regularly heard him yelling or panicking over something.

     "Okay, I'll organise a meeting. 10:30pm tonight at the club."

     There was only two clubs in town that Uncle Steve could be referring to. I formed a quick plan in my mind. I now had my Friday night planned, and I was dragging Jakob along too.

     "Don't forget our deal." He slammed the phone down on the hook and his footsteps started towards the door. I started an innocent skip towards my father's office. This was my usual routine in the evening when I got home, providing I wasn't holding a grudge against anyone. I always ran to the office to say a quick 'hi' to my father before running off to play Xbox, so my actions were hardly suspicious.

     I bumped into Uncle Steve just as he was locking the office door. That door was hardly ever unlocked. He turned around and smiled when he saw me standing there.

     "You're leaving work early," I pointed out, "about time you took a break for once. Is dad around?" Uncle Steve smiled at my comment. The point I had made was merely evidence that I hadn't overheard what he'd just said on the phone.

     "No, Edward had an emergency meeting to attend. He won't be back until tomorrow morning. I've been told to tell you to invite Jakob to stay for the night so you're not alone. Also, take advantage of your father's debit card he left on the dining room table."

     He shoved the office keys in his pocket and I followed him to the front door, giving him a quick hug before he left. Uncle Steve was the closest thing to family I had, except for my dad. I was cut off from all my family years ago, and my mother had passed away when I was thirteen.

     I checked the dining room table for my father's debit card. It was left there with a note and a paper bag:

'Invite Jakob over, takeaway's on me! P.S. I'm still too young to be a grandfather.'

     I laughed as I opened the paper bag and found a box of condoms. Tonight they were likely to be used seeing as I was taking Jakob to get wasted at two different nightclubs while I did my work as a spy.

     I rang Jakob to tell him my plans for the night, leaving out the fact that the sudden interest in nightclubbing was due to the gradually unfolding mystery that needed solving.

★★★

Alethophobia: fear of the truth