An Old Score

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An Old Score Page 33

by Edie Baylis


  Helen laughed again, but this time not quite so loudly. James couldn’t know that. He was full of shit. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous!’

  James smiled weakly. ‘I saw you, Helen. I saw you putting those tablets into a vitamin bottle. The vitamins you’ve been insisting your mother takes.’

  Helen felt cold and buzzy. Suffocation rose up from her feet, encompassing her in a black shroud.

  ‘I’ve done my research and the combination of those pills can mimic dementia-like symptoms,’ James continued, seeing Helen’s mind whirring. ‘You’ve set it all up. You’re ill, Helen – just not in the way I thought. You need help.’

  Helen trembled with unbridled fury. ‘Ill? I’m not ill! You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Yes I do and it stops here!’ James moved to stand into front of Helen.

  ‘Get out of my way. You’re ridiculous. This is all in your head. And you’ve been hassling my brother too? Asking him about money, no doubt? Trying to catch me out, you stupid prick?’ she spat. ‘And what a surprise... he hasn’t got back to you? That will be because he things you’re a fucking brainless twat as well!’

  ‘Robert loves his mother – unlike you!’

  Helen laughed sarcastically. ‘You don’t know the first thing about anything!’

  ‘I’ve sent Robert copies of everything. He deserves to know what you’re doing. He’ll phone the police, I know he will. You’re crazy, Helen, crazy!’

  Helen froze. He’d written to Robert? Her anger morphed into white rage. ‘How dare you threaten me! How dare you interfere.’

  Grabbing a wrench from the workbench, she lashed out, hearing a sickening thud as it connected with James’ skull.

  As he dropped to the floor, screaming loudly, his hands raised over his head, Helen continued striking out, her eyes wild. ‘Shut. The. Fuck. Up. SHUT UP!’

  Forty

  JONAH RESISTED THE URGE to push Lena down the flight of stairs they’d just climbed and instead forced himself to smile at her.

  Stopping outside the entrance to the VIP suite, Lena turned, picking something invisible off Jonah’s tuxedo shoulder with one of her talons. ‘Do I look nice, babe?’ she fished, running her hand over the front of her skin-tight diamante encrusted dress. ‘You don’t think anyone will be able to tell I’m pregnant, do you? We don’t want to give the game away.’

  Jonah ran his eyes over Lena, the shimmering dress looking like it was painted on. Cut in a deep ‘V’ down to the waist, her huge breasts scaffolded into place with strategically placed invisible tape holding them against gravity and the shimmering material outlining the pert and perfectly rounded shape of her countless implants, giving a cleavage to die for.

  Her oversized bust was at odds to her tiny waist and narrow hips, the dress clinging to her figure perfectly, only accentuating her washboard stomach was still that – completely flat. The dress also showcased her long legs, one visible through the high side split at the left and despite his daily increasing hatred for her, Jonah could not help his body reacting to the sight of her.

  Almost able to read Jonah’s thoughts, Lena lightly traced her hand over his crotch. ‘Hmm, like I thought... I look more than fine!’

  Irritated by his body’s lack of control, Jonah rearranged himself so that his fast-growing erection wouldn’t be visible to the hordes of press photographers waiting for them to make their entrance through the double doors.

  Lena took Jonah’s arm and whispered, ‘After the party you won’t be able to help but to fuck me senseless, baby.’

  Hating himself slightly more than he hated Lena, Jonah gritted his teeth, his throbbing arousal strong. ‘Let’s just get this done,’ he growled, stepping forward to push the double doors open.

  Standing with Lena on his arm, Jonah could see little apart from the explosion of flash bulbs going off around them. He kept his accustomed smile in place as they posed for photographs, the raucous cheering deafening and then moved forward amidst a host of congratulations and well wishes.

  The heavy bass from the top of the range music system cranked up and Jonah wished he was anywhere else but here. Aside from this party which had been foisted on him, he was still smarting over the ring he’d bought for Lena. Wanting no part in it, he’d feigned that she should choose one herself to ensure she liked it. He hadn’t been at all surprised to see the size of the rock she’d picked. Nor the price. Not that it made any difference. She’d always cost him a fortune and now he was marrying her, the bill would run for eternity.

  Catching the eye of Nero as he moved into the room, Jonah silently questioned the man’s expression, then froze noticing the twice-lifesize image of him and Lena behind the stage. His irritation escalated. Lena knew things like that made him cringe. He may well be well known around the city, but he didn’t want to be on a humongous billboard like in Piccadilly Circus and that’s how all of this felt. A fucking circus.

  He watched Lena air kissing random people who he had no clue who they were and was about to get a drink when he saw them.

  Freezing to the spot, his eyes narrowed at the diamonds making the centrepiece of a table. His eyes darted to the next table and there were more. Every table was the same...

  Feeling his blood boiling, Jonah snatched a flute of champagne off the tray of a waiter. It was only then that he saw balloons printed with a diamond logo and banners emblazoned with the naff statement; ‘Congratulations to the city’s most sparkling couple’.

  ‘Take it you don’t like the theme?’ Nero muttered as he approached.

  ‘Is she winding me up?’ Jonah spat out of the side of his mouth, his face still outwardly neutral. ‘Did you know about this?’

  ‘Not until I got here.’ Nero could only hope Jonah would keep it together. ‘Just let it go over your head.’

  ‘It’s bloody difficult,’ Jonah hissed. ‘Any news?’

  ‘Keith had words with the stoner. He’s arranging for the girl to be out of the house.’

  Jonah nodded, his eyes watching Lena make the most of the circle of women surrounding her and fawning over the huge diamond on her finger. More diamonds... ‘What day will it be?’

  ‘Waiting for confirmation of that,’ Nero said, noticing Keith still making his way through the buffet.

  ‘Jonah!’ Lena screeched, tripping towards him in her sky-high glittering stilettoes. ‘The press wants a photo of us in front of our big picture.’ She proudly pointed to the embarrassing oversized image. ‘Isn’t it great? It took me ages to find somewhere able to produce one of such a size.’

  Jonah glared at Nero, seeing him swallowing his smile.

  ‘Wait until you see the cake!’ Lena gushed. ‘You’ll love it!’

  Nero took this opportunity to wander off in search of a proper drink. He couldn’t deal with this champagne lark. A pint would do, thanks. He also wanted to make himself scarce before Jonah saw the cake and only hoped he’d have calmed down a bit by that point.

  SHAKING VIOLENTLY, Helen scrubbed at her body, frantically ridding herself of her husband’s blood and closed her eyes as the jets of water from the shower cascaded over her head.

  She’d watched James’ face as she’d hit him. Seen the shock register with the first blow, immediately changing into fear as his legs buckled under him and he’d dropped to the floor to cower beneath her.

  He’d tried to protect himself from the second blow. Oh yes, she’d seen him doing that, but it didn’t work. Of course it didn’t. And furthermore, she wouldn’t have allowed it. He’d gone too far, the stupid, stupid bastard.

  The image of that chunk of something, presumably brain, which shot out, sticking to her face, the rest going down her blouse, as the wrench had connected with his skull the second time was etched in her mind.

  Helen scrubbed at her hair, her face. Got to get it off. Got to get it off, she chanted to herself, feeling bile rising.

  Oh, but he couldn’t even attempt to protect himself from the third or the fourth hit, could he? No, he coul
dn’t. Because he knew it was over.

  The bloody moron, the idiotic fool. He’d fucked everything up.

  Stepping out of the shower, Helen kicked her blood soaked clothes to one side and grabbed a fluffy towel from the warmer rail. Quickly drying herself, she wiped the condensation from the bathroom mirror and stared at her reflection. She’d have to reapply her makeup now. Christ, come on!

  The shrill ringing of Helen’s mobile made her swing around violently, almost slipping on the wet tiled floor. ‘Yes?’ she snapped. At least it wasn’t James. It would never be James again. Ha ha.

  ‘Oh, Teagan... hello. No... no, I’m still coming.’ Helen glanced at the clock. Shit. 7.15. ‘No, no... I’m fine... I just got a bit held up...’

  Jamming her mobile in her neck, Helen stepped into some fresh knickers and quickly pulled on clean trousers. ‘Look, don’t worry. My mother will be perfectly fine for twenty minutes or so without you.’ Just go, Teagan for God’s sake.

  Helen dragged a comb through her towel-dried hair and rolled her eyes forcing herself not to scream at the girl. ‘I appreciate you’re uncomfortable with leaving her... Yes, I know... but you don’t need to worry.’

  She was wasting precious time and she had to get out of here away from... from what was down in the garage. And Robert? If Robert read that letter, he’d be here like a shot. Although she knew he tended to leave his post to mount up and read it at the end of the week, like the weirdo he was, she still had to accept that it was a possibility.

  That was of course if James had been telling the truth about writing to Robert in the first place.

  Realising that Teagan was still procrastinating about leaving the old bat on her own, Helen gritted her teeth. ‘Look, Teagan, she’s my mother so I’m hardly going to let her down, am I? It’s your well-deserved night out, so I insist you go as planned. It’s not your fault I’m running late.’

  No, it’s James’ fault. Fucking James, always James...

  ‘I’ll be there in less than half an hour ok, so stick her in front of the TV and give her a cup of tea. I doubt she’ll even notice you’ve gone. I’m about to leave now, so off you go.’

  Walking into the bedroom, Helen hung up, slinging the mobile onto the bed. She didn’t need Teagan flapping and making things even worse.

  Not even bothering to sit down, she grabbed her makeup, rapidly slapping on a bit of foundation and powder, along with a slick of lip gloss. That would have to do.

  Shoving a selection of clothes into her weekend bag, Helen pushed her makeup bag in too, then ran back into the bathroom to grab her toiletries and toothbrush. There was no other way around it now. She had to locate those diamonds tonight and then get out of the country. Damn James and his interference.

  Everything was ruined. Everything. All she’d worked for all her life she’d have to leave behind: her business, the house, the money from Footlights, the lot...

  Rushing back into the bedroom, Helen opened the wardrobe and fumbled with the code for her small safe. Grabbing her passport and the small wad of cash in there, she crammed the lot into her handbag.

  But wait... Maybe she was panicking? She needed to calm down and clear her head. Once she’d located those diamonds, she’d be in a better position to think straight. It was perfectly feasible that someone could have come into the garage and attacked James whilst she was out, was it not?

  Teagan would witness she’d spoken to her at this time, which proved she was doing something else. Helen looked at the bag she’d packed. Maybe she shouldn’t take this after all? It would look suspicious.

  Quickly emptying it, she placed everything back where it had come from and kicked the bag back under the bed. If James hadn’t sent that letter, or Robert hadn’t yet read it, then she could ‘discover’ James’ body when she returned later and deal with losing Robert’s letter, if there was one, another time.

  Helen flapped her hand in front of her face to get herself some air. Stop panicking.

  Taking one more glance in the mirror, Helen hurried downstairs, walked past the adjoining door to the garage, leaving it purposefully open without looking in. Grabbing her jacket, handbag and car keys, she left the house.

  Forty One

  HEATH HOVERED in the hallway at Footlights. ‘What did Helen say?’ he asked when Teagan returned. He was surprised Helen was late. He’d heard nothing from her to say the time he’d suggested wasn’t convenient.

  Teagan glanced through the door into the sitting room at Dulcie unmoving in one of the wing-back chairs. ‘Helen said to carry on and go and that she wouldn’t be long.’

  ‘Right, let’s do exactly that,’ Heath grinned, moving to the front door. The sooner they got out of here, the sooner Helen could get on with searching.

  ‘I don’t know...’ Teagan faltered, lowering her voice. ‘Dulcie’s really out of sorts. I’m worried about leaving her and feel I should stay until Helen arrives and...’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing!’ Dulcie silently appeared behind Teagan. ‘Go on. Off you go. I’ll be fine. I’d be even finer if Helen wasn’t coming to babysit.’

  Teagan saw Dulcie studying Darren intensely and hoped she wouldn’t ask him anything. The way she was wordlessly scrutinising him was painful and she didn’t have the first clue how she would explain something like that to him.

  Heath awkwardly soaked up the intense stare emanating from the tiny woman in the doorway – the root of all his problems, as well as equally the answer to them. The way she was looking at him was... it was strange – like she could see through him. ‘If you’re sure you’re going to be alright, Mrs Adams, then we’ll make tracks.’

  ‘You even sound like him...’ Dulcie said quietly, her voice far away.

  ‘Sorry? What?’ Heath glanced at Teagan as she took Dulcie’s arm and gently steered her back into the sitting room. What had the mad old cow just said?

  Sitting back in the chair, Dulcie stared up at Teagan. ‘He does. He sounds just like him. That boy sounds like...’

  ‘Dulcie, please?’ Teagan begged, glancing over her shoulder, hoping Darren hadn’t heard. ‘Now, can I get you a drink or put the TV on?’

  Dulcie flapped her hand. ‘No, nothing. I’m fine. Go and have a good evening.’

  ‘Ok, if you’re really sure?’

  ‘I’m sure.’ Dulcie’s ice-blue eyes rested on Teagan. ‘Don’t keep your man waiting.’

  As Teagan left the sitting room, Heath opened the door, holding it for her to pass through. Following her down the stone steps to the road, he glanced over his shoulder back at the house and shivered seeing Dulcie Adams at the large bay window, watching. That woman knew – he could feel it. He didn’t know how, but she knew...

  Glad to reach the Lexus, he opened the passenger door for Teagan, then moved around to the drivers’ side and fired the engine. ‘Where do you fancy going? Dinner? Drinks? Both?’

  ‘I’m not hungry, so unless you are, drinks somewhere is fine.’

  ‘Ok.’ Heath knew his father would be relieved about that. Although he was bloody starving, drinks would have to suffice.

  Hearing her mobile buzz, Teagan fished it from her bag, hoping it wasn’t Helen saying she couldn’t make it after all. Having to ask Darren to turn the car around now they’d finally got out would not be good. On top of that she felt awkward, unsure whether she should kiss him or hold his hand? He’d made no attempt at physical contact, so she didn’t know where their relationship, if they had one, actually stood. One shared kiss before she’d screwed up last time was one thing, but where did things go from here?

  Unlocking her phone, Teagan’s heart sank to see a text from Joe. Whatever it was, whatever had happened, she wasn’t dealing with it. Not tonight.

  She reluctantly opened the message:

  Hi Teag, when r u next free? Wld like to tk u for a drink to say soz. J x

  Teagan frowned. All the years she’d wanted Joe to make an effort and now they weren’t together, he was. But it didn’t matter – she wouldn�
��t go out with him again, even as friends. Although she didn’t hate him, his behaviour over his drugs and those men had put paid to any lurking residue of hankering after him. Joe had killed off the remnants of any feelings for him, so in some respects, his shitty ways had done her a favour:

  Let’s just leave things as they are. I’m out at the mo. Have a good night. T x

  She stared at the kiss she’d placed at the end of the text, wondering whether she should delete that or not. She’d also thought about saying she was out with her new boyfriend, but was that even true?

  ‘Trouble?’ Heath took his eyes off the road for a second to look at Teagan.

  Pressing send, Teagan shook her head. ‘No, not anymore. All the hassle is over now.’

  With what Joe had very nearly involved her with, hassle was a bit of an understatement, but she wasn’t about to embarrass herself telling Darren her ex was a stoner who’d inadvertently made her out to be a drugs mule to a pair of dodgy dealers. No thank you.

  ‘I thought we’d go to one of those nice wine bars in town, if that’s alright with you?’ Heath said. He’d looked up a few bars in Maidenhead on the internet and there were a couple that looked decent. ‘How about The Sommelier?’

  Teagan frowned. ‘The Sommelier? Wasn’t that the pub which used to be called, oh what was it now? It was that place with the big fireplace.’

  Heath bit his lip. How would he know? He’d never been to bloody Maidenhead before all of this. What was a common pub name? ‘Erm, was it The Swan?’

  ‘The Swan? There’s never been a pub called that in town. Not to my knowledge anyway.’

  Heath laughed nervously. Bollocks. ‘I must be getting mixed up. It’s been several years since I’ve been here.’

  ‘Whatever it used to be called, let’s go there. Hey, I wonder if we’ll bump into anyone from school?’ Teagan would have been very concerned if she knew how much Heath was hoping they wouldn’t bump into anyone from a school he had never attended.

 

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