The One You Trust: Emma Holden Trilogy: Book Three

by Paul Pilkington

  ‘I’m sure you are. Just make sure that you keep your eye on all the threats.’

  Lizzy let out an exasperated sigh. ‘There you go again, being cryptic. If you really want to help us, then just talk straight, please!’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Adrian said. ‘I will.’ He gathered his thoughts. ‘Now that I’m not working for them, don’t you think that they might have other people, taking up from where I left off?’

  ‘Following us, you mean?’

  ‘Exactly. And now with what’s happened with Peter Myers, expect their interest to intensify.’

  Without really thinking, Lizzy looked around the large square. There were only a handful of people in the vicinity, and they were on the move. No one appeared to be loitering.

  ‘They’re smarter than that,’ Adrian said. ‘They won’t be that obvious. Not after what happened with me. They know that you’ll be wise to people following you, so they’ll more than likely adopt different tactics.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Longer-range surveillance maybe, using telescopic lenses. Phone tapping, possibly.’

  Lizzy reacted with incredulity. ‘Phone tapping? You can’t be serious?’

  ‘They’ve done it before. It doesn’t have to be fitting something to a phone – I’m sure you’ve read the stories about the press listening to mobile-phone voice messages of celebrities and crime victims?’

  Lizzy nodded.

  ‘So, they’ve done it before. How secure is your mobile messaging service, Lizzy? Have you set your own password?’

  ‘Er, no, I haven’t.’

  ‘So it’ll still be set as the factory default number, which is probably four zeros – it almost invariably is. That means, as long as someone knows your mobile phone number, which Firework Films do, they can dial in and listen to your messages.’

  ‘Did you do that?’

  ‘No, not with you. But I know it’s been done in the past.’

  ‘By Firework Films?’

  He nodded. ‘By Firework Films, indeed.’

  ‘I need to change my password,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, you do. And so do Emma and the others. The sooner the better.’

  This was great advice. But there was one thing still bugging Lizzy. ‘Why are you helping us?’

  ‘Because I want to make things as difficult as possible for them. They thought I’d go quietly, but I’m really not that kind of person.’

  ‘So you’re not doing this out of the goodness of your heart.’

  He smiled. ‘No, I suppose I’m not. But does it matter?’

  ‘No,’ Lizzy replied, ‘I guess it doesn’t.’

  ‘There’s one other piece of information that I want to give you.’

  ‘Go on . . . ?’

  ‘You’ve not asked me yet who Firework Films are. Aren’t you interested?’

  Stupidly, Lizzy hadn’t really thought about the people behind the company. Adrian Spencer had always personified Firework and, beyond that, she hadn’t considered who else was involved. ‘Yes, I do want to know.’

  ‘A search on the Companies House website will reveal who the directors are,’ he said. ‘I think you’ll be surprised.’

  ‘You’re not going to tell me?’

  ‘Just do the search,’ he said, walking away as rain began to fall.

  Lizzy sheltered around the corner from Trafalgar Square, in the entrance to the National Portrait Gallery, as the rain intensified. Buses and taxis splashed past, their windscreen wipers desperately trying to push the water away. A fresh and strengthening wind whipped into the sheltered area where Lizzy stood as she pulled out her phone and searched online for the Companies House website.

  It came up as the first result, and offered a full listing of all limited companies in the UK. For more detailed trading data, she would have to pay a small fee, but there was free access to basic information – including the address of the company and a list of directors. She found the ‘Search for company’ section and typed in ‘Firework Films’.

  The result came straight back. Lizzy clicked on the company name and its information page loaded. It was registered to an address in London. And there, on the right-hand side of the page, were the names of the three company directors. She didn’t know two of the names. But the name of the third director certainly stood out.

  Mr Guy Roberts.

  ‘Son of a . . .’

  Guy Roberts is one of the men behind Firework Films? The man who had contributed to the stress and anxiety they had all suffered over the summer, thanks to his commission of David Sherborn to pursue and photograph Emma – for nothing more than a calculated, cold-blooded PR stunt for his film – was now intending to profit from a television programme about it all? And, what was more, for that purpose he had employed Adrian Spencer to hound them as well?

  Lizzy was seething. Now she could place the comments from Adrian Spencer in a better context. Guy Roberts was a man who apparently had no morals, and was prepared to do whatever it took to get what he wanted. Maybe it was partly about revenge – Emma had, after all, rejected his offer of a movie role, so perhaps he wanted to punish her. Or maybe it was just about money – finding another way to exploit her story for commercial gain? Whatever the reasoning, it was reprehensible.

  But now the truth was out, and he could be exposed.

  She dialled Emma’s home number. It rang and rang. With each ring, her rage was replaced by worry. Why isn’t she picking up? She dialled her mobile. ‘C’mon, Em, where are you?’ No answer there either. Maybe she went for that run after all. But then wouldn’t she have taken her mobile with her?

  She called Dan, trying to steady her nerves as the call went through. She didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily.

  ‘Dan, have you spoken to Emma in the last hour or so?’

  ‘No. I was about to call her. I’ve been in meetings all day. You’re not with her?’

  ‘I got called to work,’ she explained. ‘Emma stayed at the flat. I’ve just tried to call her, but there’s no answer on either your home phone or her mobile.’

  ‘My God.’

  ‘It might be nothing,’ Lizzy said, trying to reassure herself as much as Dan. ‘She mentioned wanting to go for a run, so maybe she’s done that and forgotten her phone, or just hasn’t heard it.’

  ‘Maybe.’ But he sounded worried.

  ‘I’m going back there now,’ Lizzy said, moving out onto the pavement and into the onslaught of rain. ‘I’ll call you as soon as I get there. It’s probably nothing, Dan.’

  ‘I hope to God you’re right, Lizzy. I’ll leave now, and keep trying her phone.’

  Chapter 29

  Miranda might have wanted an explanation, but she didn’t raise the issue during the panicked drive to the hospital – she was in too much pain to care about anything other than the there and then.

  ‘It’ll be okay,’ Edward repeated, for what must have been the fiftieth time, as he accelerated along the road. He glanced in the rear-view mirror. ‘We’re nearly there, we’re almost there.’

  Miranda was in the back alongside Will. She was focusing on her breathing, gripping Will’s hand. Every so often she would grimace in pain, squeezing it yet tighter.

  ‘It’s okay, we’ll be there before you know it,’ Will said. Then, ‘Look, we’re here.’

  They pulled to a stop right outside the main entrance, and hurried up to the maternity ward reception.

  ‘I think my wife’s in the latter stages of labour,’ Edward said to the nurse on duty. ‘It came on suddenly. She’s in a lot of pain. She’s a doctor at this hospital.’

  ‘I know,’ the nurse said, catching sight of Miranda, who was hunched over, holding on to Will for support. She was concentrating so much on her own body that she didn’t seem to even see her colleague. ‘We’ve worked together many a time. Don’t worry, Miranda, we’ll get you checked out right away.’

  The nurse guided Miranda over to a nearby bay and helped her onto the bed. Within seconds she was wired
up to monitoring equipment, and a doctor had arrived.

  Will and Edward looked on from the side of the bed as the doctor and nurse scrutinised the various readings. They exchanged a glance and the doctor nodded. He then turned to Miranda. ‘Your baby is in some distress. We need to get it out as soon as possible.’

  ‘What, now?’ Edward said, blankly.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Miranda said, speaking through the pain.

  Edward looked at the doctor for confirmation.

  ‘We’ll perform a C-section,’ the doctor said. ‘Of course, you’re welcome to be present.’

  Edward looked at Miranda and nodded. ‘Yes, of course I want to be there.’

  Within minutes, Miranda was whisked off to the theatre, with Edward following behind.

  Will waited in the corridor, walking up and down, on tenterhooks for news. After a while of pacing, sitting, then pacing some more, he tried to call Emma. In all the drama of the past hour or so, he hadn’t thought to let her know what was happening. But there was no answer on her mobile or her landline. He then called Lizzy, but her phone cut straight through to her answer service. An uncomfortable thought rippled through him. Has something happened to Emma? But the thought was banished by the reappearance of Edward.

  As his father approached, still wearing a theatre gown, his face didn’t give anything away, but he looked drained.

  Will rose from the chair. ‘How is she?’

  Edward broke out into a broad smile. ‘They’re both fine.’

  The relief was total. ‘Really? And it’s a—?’

  ‘Boy,’ his father said. ‘A little boy. We’re calling him Jack.’

  Will beamed. ‘After Granddad.’

  Edward nodded and they embraced. It felt strange, but wonderful. Will had never hugged his father before, not even in those dark days after his mother’s death. The closest he had come was an uncomfortable back-pat at the funeral.

  ‘I’m really sorry, Will,’ Edward said, softly, as they held the embrace. ‘I’ve let you down too many times. Things are going to change.’

  Will pulled back. ‘I’m sorry too, Dad.’

  Edward sat down, and gestured for Will to do the same. ‘I know I’ve said the same thing before, but this time it is going to be different. You and Emma, you mean the world to me, and I just want to do the right thing.’

  ‘I know you do.’

  ‘Sometimes I behave stupidly, I know that. Like yesterday, challenging Sally . . . but I did it with the best of intentions. I did it to try and help you.’

  ‘I know you did, Dad . . .’ Will took a breath, steeling himself, ‘but you’ve got to understand that sometimes we just need you to be there for us – not running around taking action, doing things, trying to sort everything out single-handed, but support us just by being there. You nearly ended up in jail last time you tried to sort things out for me.’

  ‘I know, I know.’ Edward looked deep into Will’s eyes. ‘I just want to make things better.’

  ‘You need to let go of your guilt, Dad, about not helping us when Mum was dying. You need to stop blaming yourself. I know I’ve been angry about it for a long time, but it’s no good living in the past.’ Will shrugged. ‘We’ve all got to move on.’

  Edward looked puzzled for a moment – the comment had pierced his armour. He cracked, and began to sob into his hands.

  Will had never seen his father cry. It was disturbing yet strangely reassuring – he’d always suspected that his hard exterior was just a carefully constructed mask, one that ultimately stopped him from dealing with his issues. He placed an arm around his father’s shaking shoulders. ‘I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t want to upset you. This should be one of the happiest moments of your life. You have another son. You have a wonderful partner.’

  Edward recovered quickly, checking to see if any passers-by had noticed what had just happened, looking embarrassed by his lapse. ‘Thanks, Will. It means so much to me that you’re here. I don’t want you to think that this means I’ll forget about you and Emma, because I won’t.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Dad, we’ve never thought that. We just want you to be happy.’

  ‘I don’t deserve you two,’ Edward said. And then he smiled, wistfully. ‘I’ve never told you this, Will, but you really remind me of your mum. Your expressions, your mannerisms, they remind me of her so much. And I still miss her deeply.’ A single tear trickled down his cheek, which he stopped with his thumb.

  Will nodded. ‘I miss her too. But she’d want you to be happy, and to move on. She would hate to think that, years later, you’re still racked with guilt about anything you did or didn’t do.’

  ‘I know she would. Your mum always wanted the best for us.’

  ‘Exactly. So, you’ve got to move on. Seize the wonderful opportunity that you’ve got.’

  His father sighed deeply. He was obviously still shaken by his outburst. ‘I just don’t think I deserve it. I messed up with you and Emma, I was a terrible father. And now I’ve been given another chance. Why?’

  Will shrugged. ‘I don’t think life works like that. For too long I’ve tried to work out explanations for why things happen – was it because I did this or said that . . . ? As if life is so logical! But I’ve realised that life isn’t logical. It’s chaotic, filled with chance happenings and events. Some of them are bad, some are good. Mum was a wonderful person. She didn’t do anything to deserve to die of cancer, and there’s no point thinking about why it happened. It just did. The important thing is how you deal with the good and bad things. You can’t spend your life looking back, because then you affect the present, and that is the one thing you do have more control over.’

  ‘I always knew you were a thinker, Will.’

  ‘That’s half my problem, generally.’ Will gave a dry laugh. ‘But in terms of the here and now, you’ve got to focus on what matters most – Miranda and Jack. And Emma and I will be here to help.’

  Edward smiled. ‘Thank you. You don’t know how much it means to me, to hear you say that. I really want you and Emma to be part of our lives. I would hate it if you thought that Miranda was trying to take your mother’s place, because it’s not like that at all.’

  ‘We know. We’ve known that for a long time. I know we had reservations, about the age gap and the timing after Mum. But we both think Miranda is great, and she’s really good for you. So you’ve got nothing to worry about, honestly. We’re right behind you.’

  ‘I was worried that the baby would cause problems,’ Edward said, with the look of someone having a deep secret wrenched from them. ‘I was really worried about how you would feel. I thought it might push us away from one another.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Emma and I love babies!’

  ‘I’m stupid, aren’t I?’ Edward said. ‘I shouldn’t have underestimated you two. I should have given you more credit from the beginning.’

  ‘As I said, there’s no point looking back. Just do the right thing now.’

  Edward nodded.

  ‘I tried to call Emma,’ Will said. ‘I can’t get hold of her.’

  Edward seemed to be thinking. ‘Oh, right . . .’

  Just then a nurse approached. ‘Mr Holden? Your wife was wondering if your son would like to come in and see the baby.’

  ‘Yes, I’d love to,’ Will said.

  They followed the nurse into a small ward, partitioned into four by light blue curtains. Miranda was in a bed at the far left-hand corner, with baby Jack next to her in a plastic crib on wheels. He was asleep, wrapped in sheets.

  Will could see dark hair peeking from underneath a tea-cosy-style hat that baby was wearing. ‘He’s absolutely beautiful.’

  Miranda smiled. ‘He is, isn’t he?’

  Will edged towards the crib.

  Miranda noted his nervousness. ‘It’s okay, you can touch him. The doctors have done all their checks, and he’s absolutely fine. He’s a bit smaller than normal, but that’s just because he decided to put in an early appearance.’

>   ‘He’s amazing,’ Will said, moving his finger slowly over Jack’s skin. ‘He’s just so soft and perfect.’

  ‘You can hold him when he wakes up,’ she said.

  Will looked hesitant.

  ‘Holding him, it’s just amazing,’ Edward said.

  Miranda smiled. ‘He’ll want to meet Uncle Will.’

  Will grinned. ‘Uncle Will, I like that.’ It sounded more appropriate than half-brother. Then he collected himself – he was so caught up in the moment, he hadn’t asked Miranda how she was. ‘I totally forgot to ask. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she replied. ‘A bit sore, but otherwise I feel good. Still a bit shocked by how quickly all this has happened.’

  Will reached out again to Jack. His appeal was magnetic. ‘Yeah, I bet.’

  ‘Your dad was great, though,’ Miranda added, reaching out to hold Edward’s hand. ‘He was so calm, and just kept talking to me, so I didn’t really think about everything else that was happening.’

  Edward grinned, then grimaced slightly. ‘I wasn’t present for you or your sister, Will,’ he said. ‘Back in those days, it wasn’t as common for the father to be there in the room. And I’ve got to admit, I didn’t really fancy it. But I regretted it afterwards. So I wanted to do the right thing this time.’

  ‘I’m proud of you, Dad,’ Will said.

  Edward seemed to really appreciate that. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Does Emma know what’s happened?’ Miranda asked. ‘It would be great for her to be here and see Jack – have all the family together.’

  ‘I couldn’t get through,’ Will said. He looked across at Edward. ‘I’ll give her a quick call now, and let her know the good news.’

  Edward nodded, suddenly looking serious again.

  Will headed back to the corridor and called Emma’s landline first. Once again, it just rang and rang. When he tried her mobile, it didn’t even ring at all, instead just diverting straight through to the message service. He decided to leave an unworried message, as if by doing so it would increase the likelihood that everything was all right. ‘Em, it’s Will. I’ve got some really great news. Dad and Miranda have had their baby. It’s a boy and they’ve called him Jack, after Granddad. Everything is fine. We’re at St Thomas’ Hospital. Give me a call as soon as you get this.’