by Beevis, Keri
‘I have to say, if you could it would really help us out,’ Natalie told him. ‘I’m happy to cover, but it’s a warm day and we’re busy. It’s easier if Beth can stay here.’
‘I agree,’ Beth chipped in. ‘We don’t want to leave Natalie in the lurch, do we.’
She gave Lila a knowing look that had nothing to do with not wanting to leave Natalie in the lurch, which had Lila’s cheeks heating.
Jack didn’t seem to notice, already sliding out of the booth. ‘I’ll go get the car.’
So that was it, yet another decision had been made for her. Frustrated, Lila sipped her Coke.
‘So,’ Beth turned to her the second Jack had gone. ‘The bloke at the funeral, the dead girl’s brother, I think you skimmed over a few of the details there, Lila.’
‘There was nothing more to tell.’
‘Nothing more to tell, Lila, are you blind? He’s hot, he’s into you, and he’s Jack freaking Foley, the author.’
‘I’ve never heard of Jack freaking Foley, the author,’ Lila pointed out. ‘Besides, he’s not into me. He stopped by to apologise for the whole funeral thing. He’s only being nice to me because I got hit by a bus.’
‘I know you’ve just had the whole bus thing, but I want to slap you, Lila. You’ve been single for so long you don’t even recognise the signs when a bloke is interested.’
‘There are no signs. Seriously, stop trying to fix me up with everyone I meet.’
They were still arguing five minutes later when Jack returned to the café.
‘You never said if you thought he was hot,’ Beth whispered slyly, before sliding out of the booth.
‘You ready to go?’
Lila shot Beth a look, stared up at Jack, a little flustered.
‘Sure.’ She looked around. ‘I need my crutches though.’
‘You only had one with you when the paramedics brought you in,’ Natalie reminded her, bringing it over.
‘Of course.’ Lila recalled seeing her crutch under the bus wheel. It would be useless. ‘The other one got crushed.’
‘We can stop by the hospital. Get you another one.’
‘You don’t have to…’ Lila reminded herself she didn’t have a choice. She stopped, made the effort to smile at Jack. ‘Okay, thanks.’
She slid out of the booth, considering how best to use the crutch Natalie held out to her. As Lila balanced it under her left arm, Jack slipped his arm under her free one and, snaking it around her waist, took the bulk of her weight.
‘Hold on to my shoulder,’ he instructed.
Given his lean build, he was stronger, harder than he looked, and Lila was very much aware of the warmth of his body through the cotton of his T-shirt, could smell the subtle scents of soap and washing powder.
She snuck a glance at Beth, annoyed to see her friend staring back, a broad grin on her face, knowing she wasn’t going to live this down.
‘No work for the rest of this week,’ Natalie ordered. ‘You go see your doctor tomorrow as the paramedics told you and get plenty of rest.’
‘I may be okay tomorrow.’
‘Not happening, Lila. I know you need the money and I’ll try to help you with that as much as I can, but you also need to take care of yourself. You’re taking the rest of the week off and that’s final. Now let Jack take you home and you get some rest, okay?’
Lila pouted a little, but managed to turn it into a smile. Natalie had been nothing but good to her and it wasn’t fair to be mad at her for the situation she was in. ‘Okay. Thank you.’
‘Take care of her, Jack,’ Beth called after them, a smugness to her tone, as Jack helped Lila out of the café.
‘I think your friend is reading more into this than there is.’ He didn’t seem embarrassed or annoyed. More amused.
‘I’m so sorry, she does this all the time; she tries to fix me up with all of our suppliers. One is in his seventies and doesn’t even have teeth.’
Lila’s comment had Jack laughing, which in turn made her less tense. She was still a little shaky after being pushed, but the Coke had helped. Feeling easier in his company, she relaxed into him, letting him help her to his car.
It was a weird situation. She had only met him a couple of times and he had initially been hostile, rude and angry. Now he was going out of his way to help her.
It was guilt, she reminded herself. He was beating himself up for how he had treated her and was trying to make amends. Had she not been pushed in front of the bus, Jack would already be out of her life and on his way back to Cley or wherever he lived. Instead he had stayed and was trying his best to help her.
It was close to an hour’s drive back to Norwich, plus of course they had to stop off at the hospital, and Lila expected conversation to be stilted. They had said all that needed to be said while sitting in the park and she didn’t imagine they had much in common. Jack Foley moved in different circles to her, plus the memory lingered of her last uncomfortable car journey with him, so she was surprised at how chatty he was this time, the conversation easy, and the time passing quickly.
He stopped at the hospital, parking as close as possible to the physiotherapy department, helping Lila inside the building then proving charmingly persuasive with the receptionist in getting Lila seen quickly. She recognised a couple of the nurses from her stay at the hospital, was pleased when they remembered her too, both of them greeting her warmly, expressing concern over her latest accident.
‘They’re figuring you have seven lives left,’ Jack commented wryly, as they made their way back to the car.
‘Sorry?’
‘Like a cat? Nine lives?’
‘Oh, Jesus, I don’t want seven more accidents.’
Jack sobered. ‘What happened today wasn’t an accident, Lila.’ He held open the passenger door for her, taking the crutches and helping her into the seat.
‘I know. I just hope the police catch him before he does it to someone else.’
Jack climbed into the driver’s seat, pulled the door shut. He was silent for a moment; his hand stilled on the ignition key as he turned to face her. ‘Okay, I don’t want you to freak out, but what if it wasn’t a random attack.’
‘What are you saying?’ A chill ran down Lila’s spine. It was a redundant question, as she knew exactly what he was implying.
‘What if you were the target all along?’
‘Why would someone want to hurt me?’
‘I don’t know. Have you pissed anyone off lately?’
‘Aside from you?’
Jack’s lips twisted. ‘Touché. I deserved that. Seriously though, you need to think about it. If it wasn’t a random attack it’s possible you may be targeted again.’
It was a scary thought, but one she had to consider. Lila gave Jack her postcode, settling back in the seat as he typed it into the satnav, letting his words sink in, annoyed that she was shaking again.
Did she have an enemy? Was there someone out there who wished her harm?
8
Lila was quiet on the ride home from the hospital. Jack could tell she was mulling over his words, considering them, and while he knew he had probably frightened her a little, if there was a chance that someone was intentionally trying to hurt her, she needed to be on her guard.
The satnav took him to a quiet street half a mile from the city centre.
‘It’s here on the left.’
Lila directed him to the one house in the street of large Victorian terraces that actually looked as if someone really cared about it, the long front courtyard garden filled with summer flowers and hanging baskets and a cobbled pathway leading to a bright red front door that, along with the white window frames, looked recently painted. She hesitated for a moment. ‘Would you like to come in for coffee?’
‘Don’t you want to rest? You did just get–’
‘Hit by a bus. Yeah, everyone keeps reminding me of that.’ She smiled. ‘You drove me all the way home. The least I can do is make you a coffee before you drive back.�
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‘Okay, sure.’ Seeing that she got safely inside probably wasn’t a bad idea. ‘You like gardening?’ he asked, following her as she hobbled her way up the front path.
‘Oh this? It’s not mine. The house belongs to my landlady. She rents me the ground floor flat.’
Jack mentally slapped himself. He had assumed the house belonged to Lila, forgetting that she was a part-time waitress and photographer, and, according to the comment from her boss, relied on every penny. Properties in the centre of Norwich had skyrocketed in recent years and houses like this would be worth a premium, likely well out of her price range.
She leant on one crutch as she fished for the keys in her bag, opened the door and led him into a bright spacious hallway, stopping before another door and turning the key in the lock. ‘It’s through here.’
The flat wasn’t huge, but the high ceilings and wide sash windows gave it a bright and airy feel while the ornamental ceiling rose, fireplace, and restored floorboards were in good order, suggesting the house – like the garden – had been well cared for over the years. Painted in warm rich colours, Lila’s personality was all over the place, from the quirky wind chimes and ornaments to the photography on the walls.
‘Sit down,’ she ordered, pointing to an old sofa covered in a patchwork throw and scattered with cushions. ‘I’ll go put the kettle on.’
‘Why don’t I do that since you had the whole bus thing?’
Lila shot him a look. ‘Everything’s working. I can still make coffee. Sit.’
She had been shaky after the accident and he knew that had pissed her off. Her adrenaline was still spiked though and the aches and pains from that day’s incident hadn’t hit her yet. Lila Amberson valued her independence, he could see that, knew that she didn’t like having to ask for or accept help.
He didn’t argue the point, leaving her to go to make the coffee, but he didn’t sit either, instead studying the photos she had adorned the walls with, recognising many local places. There was no denying her talent, taking an ordinary scene and bringing out the extraordinary; from the forest at Holkham with the shaft of light falling through the pine trees bathing the forest floor with an ethereal glow to a young child running away from the camera down a rainy cobbled street, the only colour in the picture coming from the child’s bright yellow rain mac.
‘Do you want milk, sugar?’
‘Neither, thanks.’ Jack turned to study the opposite wall, eyes immediately drawn to a striking canvas of boats moored at Burnham Overy Staithe, a scene he knew well. The shot had been taken at sunset; the sky filled with hues of pink and orange, the water a dark inky blue.
‘Your photos are great. You take all of these yourself?’
‘Yeah.’
She sounded distracted and he stepped through into the tiny kitchen to see her struggling with full mugs of coffee and crutches.
‘Here.’ He took both mugs before she could object, caught her look that was somewhere between annoyed and grateful, carrying them through to the living room.
She hobbled behind him, took a seat on the sofa, set her crutches down, and accepted the mug of coffee he passed her.
‘Thank you.’
Jack remained standing, studying the rest of the pictures. There were a few more scenic shots of the county, others that were taken abroad: a Parisian street, what looked like a Greek tavern with strings of lights winding around olive trees. He turned back to the photo of the kid in the yellow mac.
‘Was this a random lucky shot?’
‘That’s my friend, Natalie’s son, Joe. It’s about fifteen years old and one of the first pictures I took. We were out in the rain and he looked so cute splashing in the puddles I got my camera out, snapped a couple of dozen shots. This was the winning one.’
‘Your photos are good.’
‘Thank you. I got the arty streak and my brother is the academic.’
‘Is it just the two of you?’
For a moment, Lila looked wistful before a frown knotted her brow. ‘For as long as I can remember.’
‘What about your parents?’
‘My dad died not long after Elliot was born. Mum married again within a year, mostly for the security. She wasn’t around much after I turned sixteen and was old enough to keep an eye on Elliot. She’s off living it up on honeymoon with husband number four.’ She gave a dismissive shrug, like it didn’t matter, when it clearly did.
Jack dropped into the armchair facing her, stretched his legs out, and took a sip of his coffee, studying her. He had been so angry when Lila had shown up at Stephanie’s funeral, only able to see what he had lost and the future that had been taken away from his sister. He had initially blamed Lila, knowing that, although the accident hadn’t been her fault, had she not been there at that precise time, his sister would still be alive. He had been too short-sighted to see that Lila had been a victim too, that she deserved to live as much as Stephanie. She had a life and a talent, and people whose lives would have been just as affected had she been in Stephanie’s place.
‘So you’re some hotshot author then.’ Her words broke through his thoughts.
‘I’m not sure I would use the word “hotshot”, but yeah, I write.’
‘Beth and PC Wallace seemed impressed. I thought they were going to ask for your autograph.’ Lila looked amused and he heard the teasing in her tone, understood that she wanted to turn the subject away from her mother, and that was okay. ‘What sort of books do you write?’
‘Fiction. Thrillers. You a reader?’
‘I am when I have the time. I like thrillers. So how did you get into doing that?’ She paused, as if seeking the right words. ‘It’s something you always wanted to do, right… needed to do? I guess like my photography. I’ve never really wanted to do anything but take pictures, capture moments. But it’s not an easy industry to crack.’
She got it; Jack saw that, the burning need to create something, knowing that you would continue to do it even if it never amounted to anything.
‘I was a journalist for a while, figured I would follow in my dad’s footsteps. After I graduated university, I moved to London, managed to get a junior job at one of the tabloids and worked my way up. It was never enough though. I had always written, tried to get published, but with no success. I focussed on my career for a while, but the writing bug never went away. A few things happened, made me re-evaluate everything.’ He paused, decided not to elaborate. Lila Amberson didn’t need his life story. ‘I ended up quitting my job, travelling, and while I was away I wrote a book, pitched it to a few agents when I got back, got lucky with one, then the rest is history.
‘I’d like to say it was that easy for everyone. I know it’s not. I did get lucky. I had a good team working with me who believed in me and they got my book in front of the right people. It sold massively, became a bestseller, and more books, plus a generous deal, followed. Now I get to write full-time, do the thing I love the most, and I wouldn’t change that for the world.’
He’d been caught in the moment, drew himself back to find Lila studying him. She pulled her one good leg up onto the sofa, dark eyes understanding.
‘I get why you love it.’ There was no teasing in her tone. ‘I’m glad you get to do what makes you happy.’
Silence lingered between them for a moment then the sound of a key in the latch, the door barging open and a pile of papers slipping to the floor. The guy who had dropped them let out a curse; still oblivious to the fact Jack and Lila were sitting in the living room.
‘Elliot? You’re early.’
The man jumped, eyes darting up and spotting them both. Jack got up, retrieved the papers from the floor, handing them to him.
‘Um, thanks.’ Elliot looked confused as he studied Jack, blinked owlishly behind his glasses.
‘Elliot, this is Jack Foley, Stephanie Whitman’s brother. I had an accident at work and he gave me a lift home. Jack, in case you haven’t guessed, this is my brother.’
‘Oh.’ Elliot loo
ked at Jack again, realisation dawning. ‘Oh.’
He regarded the hand Jack offered with suspicion before shaking it briefly then wheeled on Lila, as the rest of her words registered.
‘Accident? What accident?’
Lila put her leg down, sat up straight. ‘Okay, now I don’t want to stress you out, but someone pushed me in front of a bus.’
‘What?’ Elliot was looking like he was about to hyperventilate.
‘It’s okay, I wasn’t hurt and the police know. Jack was there and he gave me a ride home.’
‘Why don’t you sit down,’ Jack suggested. Elliot had gone white and looked like he might lose his lunch. He was younger than Lila, Jack guessed by about ten years, and awkwardly geeky, though he could see similarities. They shared the same dark hair, dark almond-shaped eyes and stubborn chin.
As Elliot sat looking dumbstruck and Lila started to explain what had happened, Jack slipped into the kitchen, put on the kettle, and fished in the cupboard for a mug.
Lila had an eclectic mix, most of them chipped, and he selected the closest half-decent one, emblazoned with a picture of a sunglasses-wearing polar bear and the words “Daddy Cool”, considered how Elliot might take his coffee and, taking a chance, dumped both milk and sugar in the cup.
‘He intentionally pushed you?’ Elliot was questioning as Jack returned. ‘You’re sure?’
‘He pushed me,’ Lila insisted. ‘He even hid his face so he wouldn’t be seen.’
Jack held out the mug. ‘Here you go, buddy.’
‘Thank you.’
Elliot took the mug without question, barely taking notice of it. He continued to stare at Lila as Jack took a seat beside her on the sofa.
‘If he did this… if he really did what you said, what if he’s done it before?’
‘What do you mean?’
Elliot absently took a sip of the coffee, immediately choking and spitting it back into the cup. ‘Yuck, sugar!’ He pulled a face, set the cup to one side.
