At some point in my wandering I skipped to BBC News.
"—been nearly a week and police still don't know the motive behind the killing, but a source inside British parliament says it could have been politically motivated."
I froze. There was a picture of a shirtless man on the screen. He looked to be in his sixties, but was still fit, with a broad chest and thick arms that belied the wrinkles on his face. I'd never seen him before, but nonetheless there was one very familiar thing about him. Tattooed on his right bicep was a stylised letter A. The image was grainy and indistinct — it looked like a hasty camera phone holiday snap — but the mark appeared almost identical to the one Sebastian wore.
The shot cut to a police man. "Our initial findings indicate that Mister Reynolds was tortured, possibly for several days, before eventually dying of his injuries. We're working closely with the government in our investigation."
The program moved on to another story, but I was no longer paying attention. I'd never seen that symbol before meeting Sebastian. If the two of them had shared a different tattoo, a dragon or skull and crossbones or some other generic ink, I wouldn't have thought much of it, but this was a very specific image with very specific typography. It looked to be a different size, and was in a different place on his body, but still, it was a little eerie.
Firing up my laptop, I began looking for more information. The man's name was Christian Reynolds and he'd been the environment secretary of state for the British Government. He'd been a British citizen his whole life and a government employee for thirty years. No one knew for sure why he'd been killed, but based on the extensive torture he'd suffered, it was suspected to have been about information. I couldn't find a better picture of him, but after taking a closer look at the one shot that was circulating, I was fairly convinced that the marking was the same.
It had to be a coincidence. He and Sebastian were worlds apart. Different countries, different careers, different generations. Perhaps it was just a more common symbol than I realised.
I knew the smart thing to do was just forget about it. I'd caused enough trouble already by letting my paranoia get the better of me. What was I going to do? Wander up to Sebastian and say, "Excuse me, but do you happen know this random dead guy from the other side of the world?" It sounded absurd.
But as I flicked the television to another station and tried to focus on My Kitchen Rules, my mind continued to wander. Something about that ornate little symbol bothered me. I just couldn't put my finger on it.
CHAPTER FOUR
A few nights later I was once again out having drinks with the girls. My week had gone steadily downhill since Sebastian's call, and when Lou had suggested we hit the town, I'd jumped at the opportunity.
"Nothing says 'Friday Night' like a tray of Mojitos," I said, setting our drinks on the table.
"Hear hear," replied Ruth, raising her glass. She took a long sip and sighed appreciatively.
"So now that it's had a few weeks to sink in, how's it feel to be the future Mrs Steven Page, Lou?" I asked.
"No complaints. To be honest it's pretty much the same, but it makes Steve more comfortable. We want to start trying for kids soon, and his parents just wouldn't be able to stomach it if we didn't tie the knot first."
"Bah, kids, weddings, I don't like all this growing up," said Ruth. "Pretty soon I'll be sculling cheap vodka alone in Jackson's on a Friday night, while you two host dinner parties and play charades, or whatever the fuck it is responsible people do in their downtime. It's selfish, is what it is."
"Hey don't lump me in with that crowd," I said. "There are no nappies or white dresses in my future."
Lou grinned at me. "That's not what I hear. I hear you might have a mystery gentleman of your own, now."
I shot Ruth a look.
"Hey, she dragged it out of me!"
I glared at her for a few seconds, but eventually broke into a laugh. I'm not sure what else I expected. Once you told Ruth something it was as good as front page news.
"It's not like that. It's strictly a casual thing," I told Lou.
"So? These things always start out casual. That's what the first few dates are. Doesn't mean it can't go somewhere eventually."
"With this guy, I think it does. He's not exactly the settling down type. I struggle to picture any woman keeping hold of him for very long. Besides, he's made his intentions perfectly clear, and I'm fine with that."
At that moment, my phone started buzzing in my bag with Sebastian's name flashing across the screen. "Speak of the devil," I said.
"He's back in town?" Ruth asked.
I shrugged. "Let's find out." I answered the call. "Hey."
"Sophia." The word sounded impossibly sweet off his tongue. He claimed he'd trained girls to come with a simple command, and the longer I knew him, the more I believed that might be true.
"Back in sunny Sydney?" I asked.
"Yes, I arrived this afternoon."
"Good flight?"
He laughed. "Flights are never good. Let's go with the word tolerable."
"Fair enough."
"I'd like to see you, Sophia. Tonight, if possible."
"Aww, did you miss me?"
"You don't know the half of it. I couldn't get the image of you playing with yourself out of my mind. I haven't been able to concentrate for days. I intend to make you do that again and this time I'm going to lick your pussy clean myself."
I blushed. There was something so hot about discussing such intimate things with my friends just a few feet away.
"I think I can arrange that," I said coyly.
"Excellent. There's a little company gathering I need to go to now. Nothing like the other week, a small group, but there are some people there I have to talk to. Why don't you come with me? We can have a drink, and after we can see about that show."
"I'm out with the girls at the moment," I said, although both of them were waving me on. "Also, I'm not dressed for a fancy party."
"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't care what you're wearing? You look gorgeous no matter what. Besides, if I have my way, you won't be wearing much of anything for very long. Will your friends mind if I steal you away?"