by John Creasey
Out in the lobby there was still no sign of Gina or Ross. Hannah considered going to reception to see if they’d booked a room but stopped herself. The drink had pickled her brain – even Gina wouldn’t be that blatant.
Paul Hunter came back into the lobby through a set of French doors that led out to a veranda. Hannah could smell cigarette smoke as she met him.
‘Was Ross outside with you?’ she asked.
‘No, I haven’t seen him for a while now,’ he replied, looking slightly puzzled by the question. ‘He did go out to his car though, and I haven’t seen him since then.’
Hannah thought back, trying to remember where they’d parked earlier in the evening.
‘Do you want him for anything in particular?’ Paul asked. ‘Anything I can help you with?’
Hannah forced a smile. ‘No, thanks. There was just something I needed to ask him … I don’t suppose my sister was with him?’
‘No. I thought she was with you.’
‘She isn’t… but I expect I’ll find her shortly. Thanks.’
Paul went back to the party, and Hannah made her way to the front doors. It looked as though Gina was behaving herself after all and she felt more than a little guilty that she had doubted her. Either that or Gina had given up on Ross and acquired a new target. . . If she could only find him, Ross might know either way. And if not then perhaps he’d be kind enough to take her home. She did need to find Gina to let her know, though.
Outside, the cold air hit her, making her shiver. Apart from a cluster of smokers on the veranda, also shivering as they chatted, their laughter ringing through the frosty air, the grounds were deserted. Hannah followed the path that led around the hotel to the carpark at the back. Hannah wandered between the cars, arms clamped around her trying to keep warm and wishing she’d grabbed her coat before she’d rushed out.
Finally she spotted Ross’s car but he was nowhere to be seen. Then, through the gloom she realised that the bright blob she could see through the windows was his blonde hair. So he was in his car and… oh hell! Gina was in there with him and whatever they were up to, had nothing at all to do with fundraising.
‘Shit!’ Hannah muttered. On a different night in a different mood she might have been mildly amused by her discovery. Tonight, she was just mightily pissed off. There was nothing else for it – she was going to have to make her own way home somehow.
Back inside, Hannah collected her coat from the cloakroom before realising that her handbag was still underneath the table in the ballroom where she’d stowed it. That meant she was going to have to face Mitchell and Martine again if she was going to get it, but without it she wouldn’t have her front door keys. Shit, shit, shit. They’d probably want to know why she was leaving so early. There would be awkward questions. But it wasn’t like she had to answer them, was it? Stuff them, if Hannah wanted to go and collect her bag it was her business. Still, she folded her coat up as small as it would go and stuffed it under her arm as she headed back into the ballroom.
‘Is everything ok?’ Mitchell asked as Hannah arrived back.
‘Of course… why wouldn’t it be?’ Hannah ducked under the table. Shit… where was that handbag? Scooting underneath, she felt around, until her hand touched leather and she grabbed it, tucking it under her arm and bumping her head on the table on the way back out. As she emerged she saw Martine reach for her drink to steady it as the table gave a precarious wobble.
‘Are you sure you’re alright?’ Martine asked, smoothing away an annoyed frown.
‘Yes… I um… I just need… it was lovely to see you both, really, but…’ Why did she think it was necessary to give them a reason for leaving? She had no idea whether Mitchell had meant what she thought he had, and if he had, what on earth could she say with Martine sitting there? It was far easier simply to leave. One thing was certain; her life would have been easier had Mitchell not ended up on her doorstep that day. Perhaps, had she known then what she knew now, she might have slammed it shut in his face. Something was leading me to you…. that was what he’d said, wasn’t it? Well that something could bloody well piss off because she didn’t need that sort of complication in her life.
Without another word, she hurried out into the night.
*
The temperature seemed to have dropped by degrees in a matter of minutes as Hannah huddled into her coat, wishing she’d opted for a thicker one. Frost glinted on the grass that lined the roadside and her breath curled into the air. The road leading directly away from the hotel was well lit, but as she walked further on, the gaps between streetlamps became longer and longer, until she found herself in eerie pockets of blackness, thankful for the meagre light from her phone that she had now resorted to using in order to prevent her breaking an ankle on the road. Sobriety had hit too, and she was beginning to wonder if this was the stupidest thing she’d ever done. Gina would be furious, despite the brief text to let her know that she was heading home and would sleep on the sofa to let Gina in when she arrived back (if, indeed, she did arrive back that night). Hannah couldn’t help but feel vexed about that situation, if the truth was told. She had no right to be angry about Gina and Ross getting together – they were both consenting adults, of course – but she couldn’t help but feel that they might have been a bit more discreet, bearing in mind that the party was full of people Ross and Hannah knew, including his doting parents. She expected Gina to know better, but then, wasn’t she acting just as stupidly right now? Drink and betrayal did funny things to a person.
She was pulled from her thoughts by a faint rhythmic tapping from behind her. Were they footsteps? Footsteps on this dark and lonely road, miles away from her house – from any house for that matter… Way to go, Meadows, hacked to death by a mad axe murderer, all because you can’t handle a grown-up conversation with a member of the opposite sex. She quickened her pace, trying to swallow the panic that bubbled up through her chest. But the footsteps behind seemed to quicken too, matching her own. The barely controlled panic was now turning into abject fear, and Hannah broke into a run. Where the hell she thought she was running to she had no idea. Not only would she end up dead in a field, her feet would be covered in blisters, her heels broken and her hair a streaming mess.
Whoever was behind her broke into a run too, and it took her a whole five seconds to register that her name was being called. She stopped and spun around. Mitchell was charging towards her.
‘What are you doing?’ Hannah panted.
‘What am I doing?’ he shouted back. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
‘Going home.’
‘Like this?’ he slowed to stop as he caught up with her. ‘On your own in the middle of the night? Anything could happen to you!’
Hannah couldn’t help a wry smile. ‘I thought it was just about to. You scared me half to death. Why are you following me? Where’s Martine?’
‘At the party.’
‘I bet she’s thrilled that you’ve left her sitting like a lemon while you chase after me.’
‘She’s alright…’ he said, though he didn’t look convinced of that. ‘She’s safe in a room full of people.’
‘Unlike me?’
‘Exactly.’
‘I can handle myself. Besides, these roads are always deserted so it’s not very likely I’d meet anyone, even if I walked all night.’
‘That’s why you shouldn’t be out alone. What if you fell? Or if someone did choose this moment to attack you? There’d no way of getting any help.’
Hannah didn’t have a reply. She started to walk again.
‘You’re determined to walk home?’ Mitchell asked as he fell into step beside her.
‘I don’t see how else I’m going to get there.’
‘We could have given you a lift if you’d asked.’
‘I don’t think Martine would have been happy; you’d only just arrived.’
‘She wouldn’t have minded.’
‘Hmmmm. Well, I don’t like to take advantage.’
�
��Where’s your sister?’
‘Busy.’
‘How’s she getting home? Wouldn’t she have come with you?’
‘Like I said, she’s busy. But I think she had the whole getting home thing covered.’
‘Does she know you’ve left?’
‘Yes,’ Hannah replied, although that did depend on whether she’d looked at her phone or not. Hannah thought it better not to mention that bit.
‘And she didn’t try to stop you?’
‘No… though… I didn’t exactly tell her to her face.’ She turned to him. ‘What are you doing?’
‘What?’
‘You’re walking with me.’
‘Yes. Well spotted.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I can’t let you go home alone.’
‘Does Martine know this is your plan? And how will you get back to the party? It’s miles away from my house, and Martine has been drinking so you can’t call her to fetch you.’
‘I’ll get a taxi.’
‘That’ll cost you a small fortune out here at this time of night!’
‘Then you’ll just have to turn around and come back to the party with me until someone can take you safely.’
‘You might have saved my life once, but that doesn’t mean I owe you,’ Hannah replied tartly. ‘I can do what I like and I want to go home.’
‘You don’t owe me, but I owe you. Hannah…’ he laid a hand on her arm and pulled her to a halt. His voice was softer now. ‘I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you…’
‘Nothing will happen to me –’
Before she could finish her sentence his lips were on hers. She could pull away… she should pull away. . . but she didn’t want to. His lips were frozen from the chill of the night, but soft and yielding. They kissed as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and there was none of the awkwardness of first date kisses she’d known before, it was as if they’d always known how to kiss each other. It was so, so wrong, and yet it felt so right and so wonderful that she never wanted it to end. Her arms slid around his waist, travelling across his back beneath his jacket, exploring the firm contours of his muscles. He pulled her closer, his kisses more urgent, his hands now at the nape of her neck and in her hair. This was… this was…
Hannah yanked herself away, all at once burning for him and appalled at her lack of control. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m sorry… I thought…’
‘You thought wrong.’
‘But I… we… I sensed a connection…’
‘You’re married!’ Hannah cried, choosing to ignore the question in his statement. Of course there was a connection, and she couldn’t deny it, the only thing she could do was ignore it.
‘I know… don’t remind me.’
‘Don’t remind you? She’s your wife!’
‘I don’t know her!’ Mitchell said. ‘I’m married to a woman I don’t know!’
‘That will come back in time.’ Hannah’s voice was softer now.
‘It might, but I don’t think it will change anything. I don’t feel like I know her because I get the feeling things were already wrong between us, even before the accident. But I know you. And I can’t get you out of my head. I sit down to eat with Martine and I want it to be you, I go to bed with Martine and I want to go to bed with you, I come home from work and Martine kisses me but I want it to be you…’
‘This is ridiculous! You don’t know me either.’
‘Maybe. But I know you more than I know her right now. I feel like I can trust you more too. There’s something she’s not telling me…’
‘You and Martine have a past together. You married her for a reason, in sickness and in health. You’re sick right now, and she’s doing her best for you. That has to be enough, doesn’t it?’
‘But it isn’t. Why do I have to accept that, make the best of a bad job? Where’s the rule that says I have to do that?’
‘You might think you want me now,’ Hannah said, her voice shaking with the emotion she was trying to hold back, ‘but what happens when your memory comes back and you remember why you were in love with Martine? What happens when you want her again? Do I just step aside?’
‘It won’t happen.’
‘You can’t know that for sure!’
‘So… what we just did… you didn’t want to…’
‘Of course I wanted it, you stupid git! I want to shag your brains out right here on the side of the road… but that doesn’t make it right. And it doesn’t make for a happy ending, does it, not when you’re already spoken for.’
Mitchell ran a hand through his hair and let out a huge sigh. ‘I don’t know what to think. All I can tell you is what I feel right now. My head is a mess, but my heart is telling me that I need you, not Martine, in my life. The only time anything feels right is when I’m with you.’
‘Stop it, please. You don’t know what you’re saying.’
‘But I do. That’s just it, I really do. How can I be mistaken when I feel it so strongly?’
‘What about Martine?’
‘I’ll leave her.’
‘Now you are talking rubbish. You can’t leave her for a woman you’ve just met.’
‘She’s a woman I’ve just met.’
‘This is ridiculous.’
Mitchell took her by the arms and searched her face. ‘Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll go.’
‘I’m not playing this game.’
‘Who said I was playing? I’ve never been more serious.’
‘Mitchell, I…’
They both spun around at the sound of a car roaring in their direction.
‘Martine…’ Mitchell breathed as the Audi sped down the road towards them. Hannah felt sick. A minute or two earlier and Martine would have seen everything. Was this who Hannah was now – the other woman, who snuck around with husbands who didn’t belong to her? It certainly wasn’t who she wanted to be.
The car pulled up beside them and Martine wound the window down.
‘I told you to wait,’ Mitchell frowned. ‘I said I’d be back.’
‘I got sick of waiting,’ Martine snapped back. ‘That’s all I seem to do these days – wait around for you…’ she threw an irritated glance in Hannah’s direction.
‘You’ve been drinking,’ Mitchell added.
‘Yes, I have. Is that a shock to you?’
‘Don’t be so facetious. I just can’t believe you’ve been stupid enough to drive.’
‘I’m stupid?’ Martine squeaked. ‘I’m stupid? I’m not the one wandering about on deserted country roads on the coldest night of the year.’ She pressed her lips together so hard that Hannah thought they might disappear. ‘Another habit you seem to have picked up.’
‘I told you I was coming to look for Hannah and then I’d be back.’
‘Yes, and I can see that you’ve found her so can we please all get in the car and take her to wherever it is she needs to be so desperately?’
‘Swap seats,’ Mitchell said curtly, ‘I’ll drive.’ He started walking towards the car.
‘I don’t need to be taken home,’ Hannah said, suddenly feeling belligerent about the whole thing. She didn’t particularly want to walk home but she certainly didn’t want to be stuck in a car with them like this. ‘I’m perfectly capable of making my own way.’
Martine raised her eyebrows as she got out of the car. ‘There you go,’ she said to Mitchell, ‘I told you as much.’
‘Just because she says it, doesn’t make it true. I’m sure in normal circumstances it’s alright but I can’t allow it tonight.’ He looked at Hannah, who was now standing at the roadside with her arms folded tight across her chest. ‘Get in the car, Hannah.’
‘Er… excuse me but you can’t talk to me like that – I’m not married to you.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Martine cried. ‘He doesn’t get to talk to me like that either!’
‘She doesn’t mean anything,’ Mitchell sighed
. ‘Give the suffragette bit a rest, will you? The pair of you are drunk.’
‘Yes, but you’re sober so you think everything through before you say it,’ Hannah fired back, giving him a meaningful look. It seemed to stop him in his tracks for a moment, before he recovered, and for the first time, Hannah wondered if she was seeing something of the real Mitchell Bond as he issued his command again.
‘Get in the car.’
‘No.’
‘Hannah… please get in the car. I can’t leave you out here, so if you don’t it means we’ll all stay out on this road arguing about it until the sun comes up.’
‘Or we’ll all get hypothermia and die,’ Martine added, in a voice that suggested she rather hoped Hannah would.
Hannah folded her arms tighter. She didn’t want to get in the car. Right now she’d rather climb into a vat of Ross’s sheeps’ poo, but she could see by the look on Mitchell’s face that he meant what he said and she didn’t fancy a standoff either.
‘For God’s sake, please get in,’ Mitchell sighed.
‘Fine,’ Hannah muttered. ‘But for the record I’m not happy about it.’
‘You’re not happy about us saving you a long and freezing walk home?’ Martine scoffed. ‘Who on earth would rather do that than get into our nice warm car and be chauffeured the rest of the way? You must be properly crazy…’
‘Enough, Martine, please…’ Mitchell replied as he held the door open for Hannah. She slid onto the back seat and could feel her hackles rising. If what he had said to her only moments before was true… and that incredible kiss meant something… then what was happening now? Why not tell Martine right this moment how he felt? If he wanted Hannah that badly, why not end it with Martine? She knew it probably wasn’t fair, and the timing was hardly right, but his silence felt incriminating somehow – as though he was trying to have his cake and eat it. It wasn’t as though Hannah would immediately fall into his arms but at least there would be a chance in the future for them. As things were now there was no chance at all. The fact that he did nothing only strengthened Hannah’s conviction that he may have believed he meant what he said, but even he couldn’t be certain of the truth. Perhaps he was suffering from some kind of guardian angel/Florence Nightingale effect, some psychological syndrome that led him to believe he was in love with the woman who had happened to be there during his hour of need. But this was not a situation to build true love on, and Hannah had been in enough flawed relationships to know that getting involved was a bad idea… if only her heart would listen to her head’s very sound advice.
