The Busker: A gripping psychological thriller Read online

  ‘How about taking the photo over there?’ Sally asked her when they reached the other side of the crossing. She pointed ahead at the visitor information kiosk, part of the large pier terminal of the harbour. Lined outside the ticket desks were queues of tourists waiting to board ferries across the bay. It was a kind of piazza outside the pier terminal, just enough space to accommodate the horde of tourists.

  ‘There? In the middle of the crowd?’ Ashley asked, bemused at her friend’s suggestion.

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ Sally replied. ‘I can see how that wouldn’t work, let’s get to the railings then.’

  Past the information kiosk and the pier terminal, Sally and Ashley had to avoid a line of eager people in florescent jackets fundraising for charities. Busy trying to catch the names of the different organisations, Sally nearly walked into a sign for a fishing trip tour. The sign rocked on its hinges as Sally’s heavy bag grazed its side. She had to grab her friend’s elbow to steady herself, but Ashley didn’t pay any attention, she was too busy scrolling through Instagram on her phone.

  Boats, like the one advertised on the fishing tour sign, littered the harbour. Ferries and cruise ships swayed in the water in anticipation, all waiting for the tourist cash heading their way. Sally and Ashley continued through the piazza, and on to the actual promenade of the quay. They were heading away from the pier, and towards the famous bridge. A set of railings ran around the edge of the promenade, preventing anyone from accidentally falling into the harbour. It was a beautiful day, maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea to come to the harbour. Sally was just glad to actually be here, on the other side of the world with her best friend.

  Ashley had stopped scrolling on her phone. She was now waving it in front of Sally’s face. ‘Do you remember Olivia?’ she asked. ‘You know, Olivia from school? Remember her?’ She thrust her phone into Sally’s hands, and Sally took it clumsily. She loved Ashley, but she could be a real pain in the arse sometimes when she got too excited.

  Grappling with Ashley’s phone between her thumbs, Sally hat to dodge a man outside a souvenir stall. He jumped back from Sally in shock, narrowly missing the board of magnets he was trying to sell. The magnets were little figures of the bridge Ashley so desperately wanted in her photo. Sally apologised to the stall seller, and he waved her away dismissively. Her and Ashley continued down the promenade towards the bridge.

  Ashley, focusing on handing her phone over, didn’t notice how she’d made Sally swing into the man. With a grunt, Sally straightened the heavy bag on her back and glanced at her friend over her shoulder. Behind Ashley was the pier terminal, and beyond were the tall buildings of the city, glistening like glass in the midday sunlight. Skyscrapers towering over the harbour.

  ‘Yeah, I remember Olivia from school,’ Sally said, her eyes narrowing. She held Ashley’s phone between her fingers. ‘Why are you talking about Olivia? I didn’t think you were even that close with her.’

  ‘We were close,’ Ashley replied.

  ‘I don’t think you were.’

  ‘Yes, we were.’

  ‘Wait, didn’t you two have that big argument in P.E. class when you thought she stole your socks?’ Sally asked. ‘I remember that.’

  ‘Excuse me, I was close to everyone. I’m the life of the party,’ Ashley said. ‘And she did steal my socks.’

  ‘So, why have you given me your phone?’

  Before Ashley had the chance to answer, a rabble of tourists came barging towards them. The tourists shuffled around Sally and Ashley, a sea of oversized cameras and tacky baseball caps. A colourful flag, held aloft by a tour guide, led the rabble past the two backpackers. The crowd’s faces hypnotically swayed to and from every new sight along the waterside. The opera house. The art gallery. The bridge.

  ‘Have you seen the latest photo she put online? I follow her on everything. She posted it on Instagram yesterday,’ Ashley said, gesturing to her phone.

  ‘You know I haven’t. And you know I don’t really do social media,’ Sally said as she swerved around another tourist. It was getting ridiculous, her bag’s weight was forcing her to lean left. No wonder she kept falling into things. Fighting against the uneven weight of the bag, she straightened its straps again. With a tight grip on the phone she kept an eye on her friend, trying to stay composed, If Ashley noticed her unbalanced bag they’d be standing there for the next half hour arguing over the minutiae of weight distribution. ‘I’m only on Facebook to message people, and I barely check my Instagram, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to show me this photo anyway,’ Sally continued.

  Ashley laughed and leaned over. Her brown hair brushed Sally’s face as her finger hovered, ready, over the phone screen. ‘Check it out. Look at her, look how fake she is in this. What a joke.’

  ‘Hang on, I can’t see it if you’re in the way, Ashley.’ Sally had to step aside to let another oblivious tourist past her. Click, click, click went their camera. ‘It’s busy here. Can’t we do this somewhere else?’ she asked.

  ‘You are right, it is pretty busy.’

  ‘Pretty busy?’ Sally said, gesturing around her. ‘Ashley, it’s chaos. Let’s get this photo done, then we can look at whatever you want to show me.’

  ‘Sure, but first you’ve got to take a look at Olivia’s photo,’ Ashley instructed.

  ‘You definitely owe me a visit to the beach now,’ Sally replied. Her friend rolled her eyes at her.

  ‘Just have a look, I can’t believe what she’s like now,’ Ashley giggled. ‘Olivia’s changed so much. Remember she had those big glasses and that puffy hair.’ Ashley waved her hands over her head, miming the size of Olivia's hair. She was overdoing it a bit too much.

  Getting closer to the bridge, they passed a burger van parked next to the road running along the quay, strategically stationed to lure in the promenade’s pedestrians. A long queue stretched around the burger van like a coiled snake, blocking off half the footpath. The smell of cooking onions and garlic wafted over Sally. She hadn’t eaten all day, not since the plane, but she wasn’t hungry. She didn’t eat much any more, not in the last few weeks, not since the Funeral.

  ‘Her hair wasn’t that crazy,’ Sally said to Ashley’s mime act.

  ‘Close enough,’ her friend replied. ‘Have a look at it, for me. Please. I want to know your opinion.’

  ‘The sun’s too bright,’ Sally said holding her free hand over her face and squinting. ‘I can’t see her profile.’ Her hand was getting sweaty, and the afternoon was getting hot.

  Ashley motioned to her backpack. ‘Put your sunglasses on.’

  Sally checked her pockets. ‘I forgot them,’ she replied, remembering the morning of the flight, and the rush when Ashley didn’t answer her phone. Oh. That’s why she’d forgotten the sunglasses, they were still on her kitchen table. ‘I must’ve left them at home.’

  ‘What? Do you mean your real home? The one thousands of miles away?’ Ashley asked, shaking her head. ‘Sally, you know how sunny it gets here.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘You even said you read the guide book.’

  ‘I forgot to pick them up, that’s all.’

  Ashley stopped, frowning. ‘How are you going to look in the photos we’re going to take? The sun will scrunch up your face,’ she said. ‘You’ll look horrible.’

  Sally raised her eyebrows. ‘I thought we were only taking photos of you. I told you I didn’t want any.’

  ‘Of course, you do. We’ve come all this way for the perfect picture. We need to make everyone at home jealous.’

  ‘Why are you so intent on making everyone jealous? Jealous about what?’ Sally asked.

  ‘This trip.’

  ‘That’s not really my thing,’ Sally replied.

  No way was she going to let people back home see her in some photo online, leaving comments under it. Sally knew what those comments would be. She’d muted all notifications on her phone a few days after the Funeral. There was no need to see how sorry everyone was. All Sally wanted to d
o was to forget it all, forget everyone back home, forget everything that had happened.

  The Funeral. Everything.

  That was why she was here, on the other side of the world.

  Ashley gestured around them at the surrounding harbour. ‘What’s the point of coming here if we aren’t going to take a great photo?’

  Sally was about to reply, but then a force hit her in the arm. The shock unbalanced her backpack to the left, jolting her forward.

  Her feet tripped.

  With a jerk, Ashley’s phone shot out from between Sally’s fingers. A pained whimper escaped her lips as the phone spun away from her in the air. With a crack, it skidded across the concrete pavement under the feet of incoming pedestrians.

  Nearly falling, Sally saw someone rush past her. It was an aggressive push, and this person, whoever it was, had done it. The push had strength behind it.

  A man.

  Sally tried to get a closer look, but she didn’t see much. A flash of someone as they disappeared into the crowd. She scanned the faces of the people around her. Nothing. Who’d it been?

  Sally steadied herself. Her backpack was not helping.

  ‘Shit,’ she said, looking at her empty hands. Her arm ached, but she had to deal with one thing at a time.

  She crouched. She had to get Ashley’s phone.

  ‘You okay?’ Her friend cried out.

  ‘I’m okay,’ Sally replied, breathless.

  ‘My phone.’

  Sally could see it, a glimpse of metal. She reached for it, and her fingers started to wrap around the phone casing.

  And then a boot came stomping down on her hand.

  4

  The boot missed Sally’s hand by a few inches. It belonged to a woman who lunged over Sally, completely oblivious to the backpacker lying beneath her. No one was paying attention to the ground, but Sally had to get the phone. She closed her eyes and hoped for the best. She snatched the phone from the pavement and sprung to her feet, relieved she hadn’t been crushed under a tourist’s foot.

  ’I’ve got it,’ she yelled, triumphant.

  ‘Is it okay?’ Ashley asked as Sally handed the phone back. She saw the white scratches running across the screen. She saw them before her friend did.

  ‘Sorry, I think the screen’s cracked,’ she said.

  Ashley gasped and checked the phone. ’Really? It can’t be, I literally got it a week ago.’

  ‘I am so sorry. Someone bumped me, and it fell out of my hand,’ Sally said. ‘I didn’t get a good view of him. Did you see who did it?’

  ’No. Why would I? I was too worried about my phone.’

  Sally went quiet and rubbed her aching arm. She knew Ashley was blaming her for this. She had to find him, the man she’d seen, the guy who bumped her. It wasn’t her fault. The push must’ve been deliberate.

  It felt deliberate.

  Sally spun around, searching for him in the crowd, her long hair flicking over her face. She checked one way towards the pier terminal, then the other way towards the bridge. No sign of him. Damn.

  Ashley was staring at her phone. ‘I’ll check if it’s still working,’ she said, flipping the phone over and pressing the home button. ‘The screen is blank, Sally. It’s not responding.’

  Sally scanned the mass of people around her, looking for the face she saw. ‘I’m sure we can fix it,’ she replied, distracted.

  ‘What if we can’t? All my stuff is on there. I can’t lose any of that.’

  ‘I can get you a new one if that happens.’

  ‘Do you know how expensive it is?’ Ashley said. ‘Sally, I don’t think you can afford it.’

  Sally waved her friend's concern away. ‘It doesn’t matter about the price, I’ll figure out a way.’ Her eyes were on the crowd, searching. Shit. He can’t have gone far. Where’d he go?

  ‘I’m sure the warranty doesn’t cover this, and we’re in a completely different country,’ Ashley replied. Sally wanted her friend to stop talking. To stop blaming her.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she told Ashley. ‘I can figure something out.’

  It can’t have been an accident. If it had been an accident then surely the guy would’ve stopped and apologised, that’s what Sally would’ve done. Why would they hit and run like that? What was in it for them?

  ‘I can’t believe we landed a few hours ago and already this has happened,’ Ashley said quietly to herself. She was nearly in tears.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Ashley.’ Sally put her hand in her pocket and took out her own phone. ‘Look, you can use mine if you want.’ She had to fix this.

  Ashley blinked, glancing at the phone and back to Sally. ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s no problem. I only needed to use it to contact you anyway. It’s an older model so obviously the camera isn’t as good as yours.’

  Pause. ’That’s alright,’ Ashley said.

  ‘And I’ll get you a new phone,’ Sally promised her. ‘I’ll go to a shop and get a new one today when we get to the hostel.’

  But Sally didn’t know how she’d do that. She had no money. But there was no need to worry about that yet, calming Ashley was more important right now. Sally didn’t want to deal with her friend’s tears and accusations. She didn’t want to be blamed for this.

  ‘Thanks,’ Ashley wrapped her arms around Sally in a tight hug. Her breath was hot in her ear. ‘I can give you the money for it,’ she said.

  Sally’s friend was more important than finding that guy. ‘Thanks.’ He could wait.

  ‘And don’t worry about the money,’ Ashley whispered. ‘It’s okay.’

  But it wasn’t okay. This was Ashley, her oldest friend. Sally had known her too long to tell when she was lying. ‘But it was a very expensive phone,’ she said. An angry Ashley meant a ruined holiday. ‘Let me do this for you. Please.’

  Ashley didn’t respond.

  ‘Let me do this for you,’ Sally repeated.

  Ashley glanced down at the broken phone, then up to Sally. ‘As long as you’re okay with the money,’ she said, staring in Sally’s eyes. Her tears were gone. ‘You can always let me know if you need help.’

  ‘Sure,’ Sally replied, but she wasn’t sure.

  ‘This holiday is about you,’ Ashley said. ‘It’s my gift to you after all the shit you’ve been through.’

  ‘I know, and thanks for it.’ Sally didn’t want to get into another conversation about the past, about the Funeral. There had been enough of those. She hoped Ashley understood how much this holiday meant to her, how grateful she was to Ashley and her family. She hoped this accident didn’t change that. ‘Should we take some photos?’

  Ashley smiled, her perfect teeth gleaming white in the sunshine. ‘Yeah. We’re here now. We wouldn’t want to miss it.’

  ‘How about we get out of the crowd.’ Sally pointed to the art gallery to their left, and Ashley nodded in agreement.

  They squeezed through the mass of people to the side of the promenade. There was space to stand on the row of steps leading down the main entrance of the art gallery, and from there they could look down at the harbour, safe from the crowds. The bridge to their left, and the pier where they’d come from to their right. They dumped their bags against the old building and took a breather, glad to be out of the mass of people.

  She was going to have to buy Ashley a new phone, and she didn’t have the money. Sally tried to not think about it. Think about what little savings she had left in her bank account. Sally had been in this country for a matter of hours and had already lost hundreds of dollars. Typical.

  ‘Thank God we’re out of it,’ Ashley said, leaning against the wall of the art gallery. ‘I was feeling so claustrophobic. You can actually see the water from here, this is exactly what we want for the photo.’

  ‘Do you want to go first?’ Sally asked.

  ‘No, one hundred percent I want you to go first,’ Ashley said, gripping Sally’s phone. ‘Get in front. Let’s get the perfect shot.’

  ‘I’m al
ways the guinea pig.’ Sally rolled her eyes. ’You should go professional.’

  Ashley poked her tongue out at her in response. It was satisfying for Sally to see her friend in such a happy mood again, she’d been seriously worried about an outburst back there on the promenade. With a forceful push, Ashley guided Sally into place so that she positioned the harbour behind her. Taking a few clicks from Sally’s phone, Ashley stood with her bent back against the art gallery wall. She swiped through the photos, biting her lip. Wrong angle.

  ‘I screwed those up,’ Ashley said. ‘Maybe lean against the pillar there and face the other way.’

  Sally did what her friend asked. She tried to look natural, leaning against the gallery pillar in the same casual way she’d seen models do on Instagram, but she felt like an idiot. Forget about that, Ashley was happy taking her photo, and that’s what mattered. Sally turned her head. She looked at the crowd by the railings. She looked at the tourist information kiosk, the burger van and the pier with floods of tourists lining for cruise tickets. She was glad she wasn’t in that mass of people anymore, that she wasn’t getting her hand crushed.

  And that’s when she saw him in the crowd. That’s when Sally saw the man who’d pushed her.

  5

  He was leaning back against the railings blocking the drop from the quay into the harbour water, in front of him, sprawled out on the promenade pavement, was a black jacket. A metal tray with a handwritten sign, too far away for Sally to read, was placed between him and the jacket. He was about fifty meters away, at the edge of the promenade, from where Sally was at the entrance to the art gallery, too far away for her to read the handwritten sign. But that didn’t stop her squinting at him, trying to figure out what the sign said, trying to figure out who he was.

  Was it him? Was he the man she remembered?

  What was the deal with the jacket? He must’ve brought it along to use as a prop to mark his spot on the busy promenade. It was the height of summer in this country, far too hot for him to be wearing a black leather jacket. Sally was sweating, and she was only in denim shorts and a top.