by Susan Lewis
All this was racing through her mind as she assured the girls that nothing was going to get in the way of their family night out, and yes of course Daddy was on his way home, and no, there were no reporters outside any more. Then leaving them to carry on with their own hair, and to try on every item of clothing they possessed, she went into her and Robert’s bedroom and closed the door.
‘OK,’ she said down the line to Cecily. ‘I’ve got it.’ She waited for the kitchen extension to go down, then with a violently pounding heart, she said, ‘Hello, Stacey. I’m afraid if you want to talk to Robert –’
‘No, it’s you I want to talk to,’ Stacey cut in sharply.
Anna’s insides tightened at the tone of her voice. ‘If it’s about Friday night …’
‘No, it’s not about Friday night. It’s about your bitch of a sister and the affair she’s having with my husband.’
Anna was so stunned she couldn’t speak.
‘So, I should tell you,’ Stacey went on, ‘if you value your marriage, and I think we all know you do, then you’ll make that whore stop seeing my husband, now, or I swear I’ll do everything in my power to destroy yours. We both know I can do it, whether it means making him leave you, or publishing his disgusting poems for the world to see. So it’s up to you, Anna. Tell her to leave my husband alone, or you and that perverted little creep you’re married to, will pay the price.’
As the line went dead Anna blinked, so shocked that she didn’t even know how badly she was shaking, until her knees buckled and the phone slipped from her hand. She sank on to the edge of the bed, trying hard to make herself think. It had never crossed her mind, when Stacey had screeched that ugly comment about keeping Rachel locked up, that she’d been referring to anything like this. Then her hands went to her face, as she remembered how interested Chris had seemed in hearing about Rachel. But surely to God they weren’t having an affair.
Snatching up the phone she quickly dialled Rachel’s number.
‘Rachel! It’s … Oh no!’ she cried, realizing it was the answering machine.
‘Mummy? Mum?’ She spun round to see Justine’s anxious little face peeping in the door. ‘It’s OK, darling,’ she said, praying she didn’t look as distraught as she felt. ‘I’m just leaving a message for Aunty Rachel.’
Justine’s big eyes showed her unease. ‘Can I wear my new …?’
‘Yes. Whatever you like, darling,’ Anna cut in. ‘I’ll be right there.’ The beep was just sounding on Rachel’s machine, but with Justine still hanging around she had to try and keep it light. ‘Hi, it’s me,’ she said, hoping she sounded chatty to her daughter, but urgent to her sister. ‘Call me as soon as you get this message. We’re going to the theatre in the park, but should be home around ten. It doesn’t matter how late it is, I nee … want, to talk to you.’
She put the phone down, then turned to Justine. ‘There,’ she said, smiling and getting up. Her legs were still weak but Justine couldn’t see that. ‘So where were we? Has Emily finished her hair yet?’
‘I think so,’ Justine answered, leading the way across the landing to her own room. ‘When’s Daddy coming back?’
‘He’s here,’ Emily announced, climbing down from her windowsill. ‘He’s just pulled into the drive.’
Justine’s face lit up. ‘So we are going tonight?’ she cried, looking up at her mother.
Anna’s heart twisted, for she’d obviously doubted it. ‘Yes, of course,’ she answered, stooping to hug her. ‘And what was it you wanted to wear?’
‘You already said I could,’ Justine pouted, sulkily, just in case the decision was about to be reversed, then without waiting to find out she headed for the stairs. ‘Daddy! Daddy!’ she shouted, thundering down as he opened the front door. ‘Mummy said I can wear my new dress, the one we bought at Top Shop, and I did all my piano practice, so you owe me a pound.’
As Robert responded with a mock groan, then what sounded like a whirling hug, Anna looked down at Emily.
‘Are you all right, Mum?’ Emily asked, attempting to sound grown up, but succeeding in seeming heart-rendingly young.
‘Yes, of course,’ Anna said, wanting to tear out her heart it hurt so much. Then she laughed in surprise as Emily suddenly embraced her. ‘What’s that for?’ she said, trying not to cry.
‘Nothing,’ Emily said. ‘I just wanted to do it.’
Anna carried on hugging her, keeping her eyes closed in a losing battle to hold back the tears. But she had to pull herself together, act normally and happily, because they needed tonight to go without a hitch, so that in some small way they could be reassured that everything was all right. The papers just got things wrong sometimes, she’d explained this morning, and no, of course Daddy wasn’t thinking about leaving. He loved them all too much, and that was exactly what he’d told the reporters. And Anna knew it was true, for she’d never been in any doubt of it, despite the hellish nightmare of this obsession, and his failed attempts to overcome it. So no, he wasn’t thinking about leaving, nor could Stacey make him, because Anna simply wouldn’t allow it. This was her family and she was going to do everything in her power to keep it together. So Stacey Greene could just go straight to hell with her hysterical threats; even if there was something between Rachel and Chris Gallagher, which Anna simply couldn’t believe, then Rachel was obviously on the rebound, so could easily be persuaded out of it.
However, that wouldn’t solve the problem of the poems which, in their way, presented the biggest threat of all, for if they were ever to get into the wrong hands the shame and ridicule would be too much for Robert to bear. So as far as Anna was concerned, getting those poems back was every bit as much a priority as speaking to Rachel.
Franz Koehler was on board his private jet, talking to Chris Gallagher on the phone. ‘So where are you now?’ he said, taking the drink a steward was passing.
‘Still in Cornwall,’ came the reply.
‘And Mrs Hendon?’
‘She’s still here too. There’s been no approach, from Katherine, or anyone else.’
Koehler was puzzled. ‘Mm, I felt sure there would be by now,’ he responded. ‘But after I’ve seen her it won’t be a problem.’
‘Where are you meeting?’
‘Details,’ Koehler chided. ‘Now you can’t hang around there any longer, you’re needed back in Dubai. How soon can you get there?’
‘I should be able to charter a plane from Bodmin, or Plymouth. Or if I leave tonight, I can pick one up closer to London.’
‘Do it in the morning. We need you there in one piece.’
‘What’s happened to the money? Where is it now?’
‘That’s what you and Rudy need to find out,’ he replied. ‘He’s already on his way over there. The place is crawling with police and press so don’t do anything stupid. Just ask around, see what you can find out, and we’ll take it from there.’ He smiled and cocked an eyebrow. ‘Maybe we’ll send in the Marines,’ he added, making a rare joke.
Chris said nothing in response.
‘Is there someone you can ask to keep an eye on Mrs Hendon, while you’re gone?’ Koehler asked. ‘Someone who’ll tip you off, should Katherine stand me up, then show up unexpectedly on your fair shores.’
‘I think so.’
‘Good. See to it, then call me when you’re en route.’
Xavier was pacing Katherine’s hotel room, his lean, anxious face full of fear for the woman he considered almost a daughter.
Katherine was seated on the edge of the bed, the laptop computer open beside her, a brand new mobile phone next to it.
‘I have to talk you out of this,’ Xavier said, in his strongly accented English. ‘I cannot let you do it. The risk is too great.’
‘I really don’t have a choice,’ she responded calmly. ‘It’s the only way we can bring this to an end.’
‘No! Just give me time, I’ll get you to Rachel Hendon. We just need to wait for the fuss to die down. We agreed, it would be six months, maybe mor
e …’
‘But I can’t wait any longer, Xavier. I can’t go on living like this, and Franz …’ She swallowed. ‘He’ll find me, and if he does …’
‘He’ll kill you,’ he said forcefully. ‘And now you’re going to walk straight into the lion’s den. You’ll never come out of there,’ he cried, jerking an arm in the direction of Franz Koehler’s secluded hilltop villa. ‘Once you go through those gates, that’s the end.’
‘I agree it’s a gamble,’ she said.
‘No, it’s suicide! You can’t trust him.’
‘But I’m going to. And then we’ll find out if he’s prepared to trust me.’
Xavier turned angrily away, his tall, rangy body stiff with frustration and fear. He looked down over the slate grey and ochre rooftops of Locarno, to the treacly blue of the lake, where a scattering of boats rocked gently in the breeze, but he was seeing nothing beyond the disaster that was looming.
Behind him Katherine, a thousand times more afraid than she was showing, checked her small black purse for the handgun Xavier had brought with him. She knew he deeply regretted giving it to her now, but he wouldn’t take it back, when it was her only means of protection.
‘Did you hear anything from the actress, Stacey Greene?’ she asked, knowing that if he had he’d have told her.
He shook his head. ‘She was in the paper on Saturday, something about a fight with her husband.’
‘I hadn’t realized she was married,’ she said. ‘But I suppose it stands to reason. She’s very beautiful, as I recall.’
‘So are you, and you’re not married,’ he responded.
Her eyes went down. ‘So she’s obviously got other things on her mind, if she’s fighting with her husband,’ she said, after a while.
‘It was never a good idea. You don’t know enough about her.’
‘It just felt right,’ she said. Then looking at her watch, she said, ‘Franz should be landing soon. Do you know why he was in London?’
‘I imagine it was something to do with the journalist who’s gone missing. Franz’s name has been all over the papers in connection with it. Apparently the journalist was last seen in Paris, at a meeting of the Scientific Research Council for Central Africa. Franz was at the same meeting.’
‘Well, we know what it was really about, don’t we?’ she said archly. ‘And if the journalist is missing, we have to assume that he knows too.’
‘Knew,’ Xavier said.
She looked down at the gun and turned it over in her hand before sliding it back into its black leather pouch. ‘Why don’t we talk about what we’re going to do after I’ve seen Franz?’ she said.
It was so early in the morning when Rachel opened the kitchen door to let Chris in that the sunlight was no more than a honey mist spreading through the cove, where everyone else was still sleeping.
‘Sorry about this,’ he said softly, even though there was no one to wake. ‘Did I frighten you?’
‘Not really,’ she answered, stifling a yawn. ‘Well, maybe a little. Is everything all right?’
‘I have to leave,’ he told her, as she closed the door. ‘I knew it might happen, I just wasn’t expecting it this soon.’
She stood looking at him, awkwardly, wanting to object, but knowing it would embarrass them both. In the end, she merely said, ‘Where are you going?’
His lips pressed together as his eyes showed regret.
Standing back, she gestured for him to go on inside, and closing the kitchen door she followed him down into the sitting room, pulling her dressing gown tighter as she shivered. Then looking up into his unshaven face she felt an unsteady beat in her heart. Their close proximity at a peculiarly intimate hour, especially while she was in her nightclothes, was having an unsettling effect, and she didn’t think it was just on her.
‘I wanted to see you before I left,’ he explained. ‘I know I could have called, but …’ He pulled a hand over his face. ‘I’m glad we’ve had this time to talk.’
‘Me too.’
‘I know I haven’t been as expansive as you’d like …’
‘It’s all right,’ she said. Then swallowing, ‘You’re making it sound as though you might not be coming back.’
His eyes held hers. ‘I will be back,’ he said, ‘I’m just not sure when, or how much might have changed by then.’
‘Now you’ve got me really worried,’ she chided.
His smile was too faint to be reassuring.
‘Actually,’ she said, turning towards the table, ‘I’m glad you came, because I need to tell you about a call I had from Anna.’ She looked back, glad there was this small distance between them now, considering what she was about to say. ‘She’s heard from Stacey and …’
His eyes closed in dismay. ‘Please tell her I’ll do everything I can to stop this … thing she’s got going with Robert,’ he said.
‘It wasn’t really about that,’ Rachel said. ‘It was more about us, and what Stacey’s prepared to do to stop us having an affair.’
The word fell into the air between them, charging it with a potency that just seemed to get stronger as neither of them attempted to deny it.
‘She’s threatened to try and break up Anna’s marriage if I don’t stop seeing you,’ she said, looking away. ‘And she’s got certain poems that Robert’s written, which she’s threatening to make public.’
He waited for her eyes to come back to his. ‘You told Anna the truth about us, I take it?’ he said.
‘Yes, of course,’ she answered, though her throat was dry and her chest felt tight. ‘I told her there was nothing, that Stacey’s got it wrong.’
His eyes were still locked on hers, and a long moment passed as the wish for more freedom to speak the truth stole between them. ‘I’ll speak to her again,’ he said.
‘It’s the poems Anna’s most concerned about,’ she explained. ‘She needs to get them back, and we were hoping you might be able to help.’
He appeared irritated and impatient, though she guessed more with Stacey than with her. ‘I’m not going to London,’ he said. ‘But I’ll speak to her on the phone.’
She braced herself, for there was more, and she wasn’t at all sure how he was going to take this. ‘I told Anna about Stacey’s smuggling enterprise,’ she said. Then quickly added, ‘I was so incensed when she told me how Stacey had threatened her, that I didn’t really think it through. I just wanted to give her something to hit back with, some leverage to get the poems.’
‘You did the right thing,’ he assured her. ‘But my advice to Anna is, don’t go to Stacey, go to Petey, her assistant. He’ll be a lot more concerned about saving his skin than Stacey will, so he’s your man for getting the poems back.’
Rachel smiled with relief. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I told Anna you’d know what to do.’
His eyes shone with irony, but a moment later he was serious again. ‘I have to go,’ he said.
She waited, not sure what to do, for he’d made no move to leave.
‘Take care of yourself,’ he murmured. ‘You’ve got my number. If you need to call.’
‘Then don’t forget to answer,’ she responded.
‘Touché, and OK it won’t be switched on all the time, so just keep your wits about you, and if you’re not sure about anything, trust your instincts.’
‘A very unreliable set of tools,’ she commented drily.
He smiled. ‘I’ll call Nick from the road,’ he said, ‘tell him to keep an eye out for anyone strange hanging around.’
Though her heart tightened at the prospect, she tried to make light of it, saying, ‘Well that’s a nice comforting thought to leave me with.’
‘Everything’ll be OK,’ he told her. ‘All you have to do if Katherine calls, or anyone on her behalf, is either refuse to see her, or, if you want to, set up the meeting, then call and let me know where it’s supposed to be.’
She nodded.
Lifting a hand he brushed a thumb lightly over her cheek. ‘Go back to b
ed,’ he said softly, ‘then get up at a decent hour and treat the boy to a man-size breakfast.’
For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but then he was gone, leaving her walking over to the window to watch him jog down the footpath to where he’d left his car, blocking hers in. She waited as he reversed back down towards the pub, then drove up over the hill, and vanished from sight. She’d already half turned back inside when a movement on the opposite headland caught her eye. At first she couldn’t quite make out what it was through the mist, but as it moved again she realized it was someone on horseback. Since it wasn’t such an unusual sight, even at this hour, she thought no more of it, as folding her arms over the baby she started back upstairs to bed.
Chapter 27
FOUR DAYS HAD passed since Elwyn had reported seeing Chris with Rachel Hendon, putting his hands on her pregnant belly, kissing her, swinging her from a stile like lovers, and still it made Stacey feel violent just to think of it. The image was so abhorrent, so painful, that she almost wanted to beat her own head as though to crush the thoughts that gave it power. But it hadn’t ended with that nauseating little scene on the hillside, because he’d apparently visited the pregnant bitch’s cottage at five in the morning, presumably to say goodbye, before he left. Had Stacey been able to reach either of them when she’d heard about that little early morning tryst she’d have smashed them with all the might of her fury, but she hadn’t, so once again she’d had to make do with his belongings, which didn’t exclude his valuable collection of paintings.
Since then, there had been nothing to report, but if he thought his absence was going to make her believe Anna Maxton’s frantic phone calls, swearing there was no affair, then he could think again. No man put his hands on a woman’s pregnant belly, then kissed her, without there being something to it, so Anna could just forget having her warped little husband’s poems back, because they were staying right where they were. And attempting to use Chris to get them for her wasn’t going to do her any good either, because his phone call, warning her to stop playing games or she’d have him to answer to, hadn’t impressed her at all.
