“Stop parading me outside like some beacon declaring your heterosexuality and let me in.” He pushes open the door obligingly and motions for me to enter ahead of him, which I do, soaking in every detail. The hallway is vast and open, plush cream carpet stretching out to greet a tiled kitchen floor in the distance. The walls are a pristine magnolia, antique pine furniture has been positioned perfectly, and a huge ornate gold-framed mirror hangs behind the door. It looks a lot like the home I made for my family once upon a time, and I can’t shake the thought that another woman is responsible for this one. I scan the walls for signs of where photographs might have been but see none.
The kitchen is no disappointment either. All sleek black worktops and chrome accessories that don’t look like they’ve ever been used. Definitely not a woman’s kitchen. There’s not a cookbook or a cute kitten calendar in sight, and no spice rack either.
“Are you sure you’re not gay?” I tease as Nick looks bashful at my amazement.
“Not my own work, I’m afraid,” he admits grudgingly. “I had an interior designer come in when I bought the place.”
“Not bad for a journalist on a local rag,” I comment, then immediately feel rude for speculating about how he can afford such a place.
Nick doesn’t balk at my rudeness, however. “I won some cash when I was younger and invested when house prices were low,” he explains. “A stroke of pure luck really, given the way things are now.”
“Sorry,” I apologize. “I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t afford it here.”
Nick shrugs. “It’s okay, you’re right, I’d never have been able to buy this place if it wasn’t for luck. Anyway, I’ll put the kettle on, then we can take your stuff upstairs.”
“Great, good, thanks.” I’ll admit this all feels a bit strange, moving in with a man I barely know. You’re not moving in; just a stopover until you can sort yourself out. And Cassie knows where you are.
Shit! Cassie.
“I didn’t tell Cass I was coming here,” I realize suddenly. I’m so used to her being around all the time that I’d forgotten to actually tell her I wasn’t at home. “I’d better let her know, in case she goes to my house . . .” An image of her letting herself in and seeing the remains of what happened tonight makes my skin crawl. I don’t add “and in case you’re an ax murderer.”
I pull out my phone and wince at the reply to my earlier text message. I don’t care how tired ur. I want 2 no what happnd with ur dad. Call me!! <3
“She’s not going to be happy you’re here,” Nick says as I lift the phone to call her.
“Don’t worry, she’s too far away for any real violence.”
“Where the hell are you?” she demands the minute the call has connected. “I’ve called your house, sent texts, you’ve disappeared! I’ve been worried! For Christ’s sake, Susan!”
I’m sure the rant would have continued had I not cut her off quickly to explain what had happened. Her fury quickly turns to concern, until I tell her where I am now.
“Why didn’t you come to me?” she replies a bit snottily.
“Nick was closer, he was only down the road at the hotel. I was petrified, Cass. Someone went into my house and left a dead cat on my bed! I just wanted out. Tell her I’m okay, Nick.”
I flip her on to speakerphone and he confirms I’m still in one piece. All he gets in reply is a grunt. I fill her in on what happened with my dad. “And tomorrow I’m going to see Mark,” I surprise myself by announcing. I’m not sure when I made the decision, but now that I’ve said it out loud, it seems like the logical course of action. The only place to go now is home.
Cassie and Nick don’t seem to share my confidence. They both begin to speak at once, Cassie’s voice the loudest despite being over a hundred miles away, but nothing they say is going to deter me. It makes me feel better that I’m resolved in this decision; stubbornness is a trait the old Susan used to have in spades.
“Do you really think—”
“Suze, I don’t think that’s the best thing for you to do, hun. It’s been four years; he’s not going to want to see you. What if he calls the police? You could get yourself in trouble, or set yourself up for a fall.”
Since when does Cassie Reynolds care about trouble with the police? Not once in the three years I’ve known her has she shied away from a plan, no matter how harebrained.
“Cassie’s right,” Nick agrees. I can feel Cassie scowling despite the fact that he’s agreeing with her, and it makes me smile. “You could just make things worse. What if he doesn’t know anything about this?”
“I’m going.” Part of me is just being stubborn because I feel like they’re ganging up on me and my inner teenager is refusing to back down. “This is my problem and I’m going.”
“Fine,” Cassie relents. “I’m coming with you.”
“Not this time, Cass,” I reply. “This is something I’ve got to do on my own. You can come here and help Nick.”
“No frigging way. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”
“Wow, thanks, coming from a murd—”
“Don’t make me prove how far I can throw you.”
“As if I would be so stupid.” He turns to me. “If she won’t work with me, that’s her prerogative. I’ll dig up everything I can on your trial and Dr. Riley and meet you back here.”
Cassie seems to realize that this leaves her sitting at home waiting. Alone.
“Fine. I’ll help. I can keep an eye on the reporter. I’ll drive down in the morning.”
I’m grateful they’ve given in so easily; now I don’t have to lie to them. I’m nervous and more than slightly scared that in less than twenty-four hours I will be confronting the man whose life I shared. Whose life I ruined.
26
JACK: 13 JANUARY 1991
Predictably, when Billy had been rejected from Cambridge he’d been gutted—and Jack had been there to cheer him up. At least he’d been accepted for his second choice, and that meant they were all going to Durham together. Billy had apologized over and over for attempting to ditch them all but Jack told him not to worry—after all, they were mates, and mates forgave each other, right?
They’d been in Durham four months and already Billy had forgotten that he’d ever wanted to go to Cambridge. This was living. Every night was just drug-hazed memories of parties and shagging. Women threw themselves at all of them, it was fucking amazing. Even Shakes was getting laid left, right, and center; in fact he was beating Mike, Adam, and Matty hands down. The change in Billy over the last year was ridiculous. His dad’s business was turning over enough to fund the kind of lifestyle he’d always wanted: new designer gear and a monthly allowance to rival the foreign-aid budget. Lately it was his name that got them into VIP. And that was fine; Jack was content to let his friend have his time in the sun, as long as he remembered who the real leader of the group was. The one who made decisions, the one who made things happen. The only concern he had was how close Billy and Matt were getting. He hadn’t spent so much time on Shakespeare’s complete transformation to hand him over to Riley to ruin.
It was in their third month that Billy brought Tanya back to their place. A pair of tits with legs, Tanya was tight in all the right places, but more amazingly, she could read and spell. Of course Shakespeare was hooked. She spent the next three weeks glued to his side; everywhere they went, there was Tanya. That was bad enough, but she’d walk around the place wearing shorts no bigger than a tea towel and vest tops so tight she looked like she’d been sprayed into them, her long, dark curls skimming the bottom of her massive breasts. She’d be there every time Jack turned around, bending over for the remote, nipples looking like they could cut glass. He’d seen her around St. Chad’s a few times before but he’d never really noticed her until Billy brought her into their lives. Now all he wanted to do was touch her. Surely she could see the effect she had on him? Of course she could, and she liked it. He’d be doing Billy a favor if he showed him what this little prick
tease was really like.
Ironically it was Friday the thirteenth when it all went wrong.
“Tanya.” Jack stood in the open doorway and frowned. “What’re you doing here?”
She smiled, held up a Waitrose bag that clinked with the sound of bottles, and peered over his shoulder. “It’s a surprise. Is he in?” Tanya usually called Billy by his real name, another reason Jack didn’t like having her around. She had a way of making it seem like the last four years hadn’t even happened, like everything was year zero and she was the only person who mattered.
“No,” Jack said, without moving aside. “He’s studying, at Bill Bryson.”
Tanya looked puzzled. “The library? On a Friday? That’s weird. Maybe I’ll go there and find him.”
“No,” Jack said quickly. “Come in, wait here.” He guided Tanya through to the open-plan apartment, took the bag of alcohol, and carried it to the kitchen area. “Can I get you a drink while you wait?”
He uncorked the wine she had brought with her, poured a glass, and—with his back still to her—added a shot of vodka for good measure. Wouldn’t do her any harm. Then he poured half a glass for himself.
“Here. Hope you don’t mind, I’m having a glass too.”
Tanya took the wine and smiled. “Thanks, I’ll just have the one, then I’ll go find him at the library. Maybe he could use a study buddy.”
“Look . . .” Jack sat down next to her and placed the bottle of wine on a side table. He ran his fingers through his short dark hair and gave her an apologetic look. “I really wouldn’t. It’s best you just wait here.”
“Why shouldn’t I . . . Oh, I get it.” Tanya took a huge gulp of wine and pulled a face. “God, that tastes like shit.” She finished the glass in two mouthfuls. “So if he isn’t really at the library, where is he?”
Jack leaned back and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry, I don’t know. If I did, I’d tell you, but . . .”
“For fuck’s sake.” Tanya reached for the bottle. “If he wanted to see other people, why didn’t he just tell me?”
“Hey.” Jack raised both hands in defense. “I didn’t say he was seeing someone else. I mean, he really might be at the library . . .”
Tanya smiled as she slugged back another gulp. “Thanks, but I’m not stupid, I can see it all over your face. Did anyone ever tell you you’re a terrible liar?”
Jack looked bashful. “I’ve never been much good, I’m afraid, not like Billy. He’s the brains of the group. I’m just the good-time guy. I don’t see the point of lying to women; what you see is what you get. Bit of a character flaw, I’m afraid. Here.” He reached past her to top up her wine again, his chest pressing against hers for a split second.
“I don’t think that’s a flaw, I commend your honesty.” Tanya took the glass from him—was it his imagination or did her fingers linger around his a little longer than before?—and raised it in a toast, her eyes glassy with tears. “I mean, I never really expected a guy to want a relationship in his first few months as a fresher, but he seemed so keen. I should have known there’d be others. Why not just tell me? I mean, it’s not like I’ve never had a one-night stand before, I could have coped.” She sniffed. “I’d started to really like him, y’know?”
Jack reached out and placed a hand on her knee. “I guess he just thought you were too beautiful to give up. Don’t be too hard on him; you can’t really blame him for wanting you around. I mean, when you’re here . . . Sorry, I’m talking out of place. Must be the wine.”
“No.” Tanya moved so close her breasts were brushing against his shoulder and he wondered if she realized. Intentional or not, it was making him hard and he knew he had to get a move on. Even Billy didn’t study too late on a Friday night. “Go on.”
“I can see why Billy wanted you around, that’s all. You’re gorgeous and clever and funny. He’s a lucky guy.”
Tanya screwed up her button nose. “Was,” she corrected. “I don’t appreciate being lied to, Jack, and it was unfair of him to put you in this position. You’ve been so sweet but I really should be going.” She put down her glass, eyes widening at the empty bottle. “Have I really . . . whoa.” She stumbled as she stood up and slammed straight back into the sofa. “Head rush. Just stood up a bit quickly, I’m fine.”
“Here.” Jack held out his hand and helped her to her feet. “Look, you don’t have to rush off, Billy’s probably not going to be back for ages.” He cringed. “Shit, sorry.”
She stumbled forward and placed both hands on his chest to steady herself. “I’m okay, I just drank a bit too fast. That was supposed to last all night! I just need to use the bathroom.”
“Sure.” Jack watched as she moved towards the bathroom in the deliberate way people do when they’re trying to convince themselves they haven’t had too much alcohol. When she was inside, he moved quickly, pouring his half glass into hers and topping it up with a shot of vodka. No more, Jack, you need to be able to get her out again in one piece. Afterwards.
“You okay?” he asked as she emerged from the bathroom. Her floral chiffon blouse was untucked and she’d undone the top two buttons, revealing a glimpse of tanned breast. Her hair looked ruffled, as though in the absence of a brush she’d run her hand hastily through her loose waves. This was going to be good.
“I’m fine, thanks. You’ve been so nice, I’m sorry you got caught up in this.” She stifled a sob and Jack took the opportunity to hand her her wineglass.
“Here, finish this and I’ll walk you downstairs.”
Tanya looked crushed. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
Jack shook his head and moved closer to her. “No,” he said, taking her free hand in his. “I’m just worried about what might happen if you stay. Billy’s my friend and . . .”
Tanya took a sip of her wine and placed it down again. “And he’s out right now having fun with some bimbo while you’re left here looking after his girlfriend. That’s not very fair, is it?”
She put her hand up to touch his face, trailed it down behind his neck and pulled his head gently downwards. He leaned forward and she placed her lips on his, gently at first and then, when she was sure he wasn’t going to pull away, harder. As they kissed, they moved towards the bedroom, Tanya taking Jack’s lead perfectly. He fumbled with the doorknob behind him, pushing the door open and guiding her towards the bed, where she fell, all the while tugging at the bottom of his T-shirt, finally releasing it from the waistband of his jeans.
“I’m not doing this to get back at him,” she gasped when she pulled away for a moment. Her hands were exploring his body, working at the rough leather of his belt until she found the buckle. She released the clasp and yanked at the button of his jeans, then pulled down the zip and shoved the denim over his hips.
“We shouldn’t be doing this at all,” Jack murmured, his fingers deftly unbuttoning the rest of her blouse, easing it open to reveal those amazing breasts. How he’d lasted this long with her flaunting her ass all over the flat he didn’t know. It was Billy’s fault really—did you put a crate of beer in front of an alcoholic? He slipped his thumb inside her flimsy bra, rolling it around her nipple and loving the way she groaned. He lowered his lips to her breast, taking the puckered nipple in his mouth and sucking gently at first, then pulling harder until she gasped.
“He deserves it, the bastard. Don’t think about him, Jack.” Tanya undid her own jeans and pushed them to the floor. “Do you know, he told me to watch out for you. Said you’d be jealous of what we have, that you’d try and ruin it. And all along he just wanted to keep you from seeing me so that you wouldn’t let slip about his other whores.”
“That sly twat,” Jack swore. “Well, he’s not going to get away with it.”
She pushed herself up onto her elbows. “But doesn’t this make us just as bad as him? Maybe this is a mistake . . .” Oh for fuck’s sake.
“Ssshhhhh.” He leant down and slipped off her lace knickers, threw them into the corner of the room. Shoving hi
s boxer shorts down, he pulled her closer, placed one hand over her mouth and thrust himself into her, smiling as her eyes widened.
* * *
“Honey, I’m home.” Jack heard the door bang closed and Billy’s voice drift in from the hallway.
“About time, darling. How was the library?”
Billy pushed the door open with his backside, his arms full of books. “Fucking boring as. Remind me never to leave an assignment until the last minute again. What’re you doing in on a Friday night?”
Jack shrugged, his feet up on the arm of the sofa. “Fancied a quiet one. Get us a beer, will you?”
Billy threw his stack of books onto his bed and grabbed two beers from the never-ending stock in the fridge. Tossing one to Jack, he settled himself in his usual chair. “So you’re telling me you’ve done nothing tonight?”
Well, not exactly nothing.
Jack put his best concerned face on and turned to his friend. “Look, mate, I needed to talk to you about something. It’s Tanya.”
Billy sighed, shook his head. “I knew this was coming. You’re pissed off she’s here all the time, right? Sorry, mate, I really like her. But we’ll go to hers more, get out of your way . . .”
“It’s not that.” Jack cut across him. “It’s just that, well, this is really embarrassing, but . . . well, she’s been coming on to me.”
Billy looked like he’d been punched in the face. “She’s what? Tanya? When?”
Jack dropped his eyes to gaze at the floor. “Ever since you first brought her back here. It’s been pretty difficult keeping it from you, to be honest, mate, but I thought she’d have given up by now. She left these.” He held up the lace knickers Tanya had been wearing earlier that night. After they’d finished, she’d let him dress her and call her a taxi with very little argument—she’d seemed a little dazed, Jack thought; turned out she didn’t like it as rough as he’d expected. “Under my pillow the other night. I was going to just ignore it, but then she turns up here tonight . . .”
How I Lost You Page 12
