by Susan Lewis
‘This is for you,’ he declared with certainty. ‘In this, you are the most beautiful woman in all of Spain.’
Laughing softly, she hung up the dress, feeling tiny frissons of excitement eddying through her as she failed to close the curtain fully. Her heart was hammering as she let the burnt-orange dress she was wearing fall to the floor then unhooked her bra. She had no idea if he was watching, but it was enough to know he might be. She looked at her dark nipples in the mirror, standing out large and proud. Then reaching for the dress, she slipped it from the hanger, undid the zip at the waist and stepped into it.
The shimmering gold top was a halter, and was cut lower in the front than anything she’d ever worn in her life. It was almost to her navel, and the view of her totally naked back with her new blonde hair curling in wisps around her neck was utterly exquisite.
‘Ah, Mamá mía,’ Antonio murmured, clapping his hands together as she came out of the changing room. ‘Is very beautiful, no? Is dress made for you. We just need maybe to move the buttons here …’ Turning her round to face a mirror, he pulled the halter top a little tighter. ‘See. Is perfect now,’ he said. And holding it in place with one hand, he swept the other down the front V of the dress, almost touching her, but not quite. ‘Like this,’ he said, letting the halter go slack, ‘is too big. Like this,’ he tightened it again, ‘is perfect. And the length is good too. She stop at the knee, and we see the wrapover show us the legs. You like?’
Ava was entranced. She looked and felt like a goddess.
‘We have shoes,’ he told her, taking off to get them. ‘You want try the shoes?’
They were gold mules with four-inch heels and two sparkly bands across the front. Slipping her feet into them she walked up and down the shop, admiring herself in the mirror and becoming more and more turned on by the daring that was electrifying her mind. ‘I’ll take the dress and shoes,’ she said. ‘And maybe a bikini.’
‘Oh sí,’ he agreed. ‘We have fantastic bikinis. I show you.’
As he went to sort out the best, she returned to the changing room and removed the dress. She was slipping it back on the hanger when he opened the curtain and put two bikinis on one of the hooks. ‘You try,’ he said, not looking at her breasts, but surely noticing them.
Allowing the curtain to remain as open as he left it, she slipped her panties down over her long brown legs, then stood straight to take one of the bikinis from its hanger. It was lime green with turquoise polka dots, no straps and a thong back. After she’d put it on, she stepped out into the shop to look in the mirror. Antonio was right behind her.
‘I don’t think so,’ she said, hands on hips as she shifted her weight on to one leg. Had he seen her naked? She hoped so, but just in case she wanted to be naked again.
‘You try the other,’ he suggested.
Leaving the curtain open again, she removed the bikini entirely, then reached for the other. Never in all her life had she been this brazen, nor would she be now, without Ava in control, and even Ava didn’t know how far she might go, particularly with the door to outside still open. Anyone could come in at any moment, and the risk was so erotic it was almost making her faint.
Making a circle with his finger and thumb as she stepped out in the black bikini, Antonio said, ‘Perfect.’
She turned to the mirror. The throbbing between her legs was intense; her nipples were like rock. ‘I agree,’ she said, her voice faltering slightly.
‘Yes. I think you must take this one,’ he told her, coming to stand very close behind her.
Her heart was beating wildly. She was certain she could feel his breath on her shoulder. She wondered what she’d do if he touched her. Did she want him to? She wasn’t sure. She slid her hands over her hips, keeping her eyes away from his. It was as though they’d both become frozen in the moment, uncertain where to go from here. Then, hearing a noise, they both turned and looked at the door. It was the idly strolling man who’d passed her earlier, returned to browse through the tat outside. She half suspected that he’d been there for a while, had possibly even seen her naked too. Did she mind about that? She didn’t think so, but she wanted to get dressed now, this had gone far enough.
Later, as she recalled the episode, and explored its wonderfully erotic potential, she realized that what was exciting her the most was the way Ava had managed, for those few precious minutes, to transport her out of Beth’s misery into a whole other consciousness. If she could do it once, she could do it again, maybe for longer, with more courage and daring. It was what she wanted – to become so far removed from who Beth really was that eventually she could forget she even existed.
Her lips curved in a smile. She looked different, and even now, all these hours later, she still felt different, but she had to confess that the prospect of getting to know all sides of Ava’s nature in order to become her completely was filling her with fear as much as excitement.
This was the third time in her career that Laurie had visited someone inside Wandsworth Prison, so the unwelcome interest, plus the crude gestures and comments were expected, though still offensive. However, she maintained a pleasant expression as she worked her way through the closely packed lines of tables towards Colin Ashby, whom she’d spotted in a far corner at the back of the room. Because it was so hot out she was wearing thin, yellow cotton trousers and a white T-shirt with an embroidered waistcoat buttoned over the top of it, for the last thing she wanted, especially in a place like this, was for the ampleness of her breasts to be noticed. Nevertheless, her ash-blonde hair, clear creamy skin and deep blue eyes made her look as fresh as a spring flower that had somehow wafted into a drab and dingy backyard.
As she neared him Ashby glanced at her, but didn’t even seem to register her as he looked on past. She saw that his eyes were bloodshot and exhausted; he was badly shaven and his pallor was a ghostly grey. Though she hadn’t imagined he’d create the picture of health, she was still shaken, for it seemed that his legendary easy-going charm and confidence had already been beaten into submission.
‘Mr Ashby,’ she said, stopping at the other side of his table.
He looked at her with vague surprise.
‘I’m Laurie Forbes,’ she told him.
At first he appeared confused, then his eyes closed tightly in what seemed to be frustration. ‘I presumed you were a man,’ he told her, his voice thickening with anger. ‘Why the hell didn’t they tell me you were a woman? All this time waiting …’ He pressed his fists to his temples and clenched his teeth in rage.
Sitting down quickly, she said, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realize they hadn’t told you. But please don’t let it make a difference. I’m very interested in your story. I’ve already done a lot of work on it.’
‘You don’t understand,’ he growled. ‘I’m already trying to protect the women in my life, I can’t take responsibility for you too.’
‘I promise you, I can do that for myself,’ she retorted.
His expression was almost derisive. ‘Look at you,’ he declared. ‘You’re hardly out of pigtails …’ His eyes closed again and for one startling moment she thought he was going to cry. ‘I should have known, when I hadn’t heard of you,’ he seethed. ‘The name Laurie Forbes. What a fool. I’m just not thinking straight. I can’t in here … Jesus Christ, is someone having a joke on me somewhere?’
‘Mr Ashby,’ she said gently, ‘I’m really sorry I’ve disappointed you. I swear I had no idea you thought I was a man, but it doesn’t change the fact that I truly do want to help you. Giles Parker said you were ready to talk.’
He was shaking his head. ‘No. Not to you.’
‘Look, I don’t believe you killed Sophie Long,’ she told him earnestly. She wasn’t entirely sure she meant that, but it just might go some way towards breaking down his resistance. She took a breath to continue, but was forced to wait for an uproar nearby to subside. Then, leaning towards him, she said quietly and urgently, ‘Please let me help you. I’ll do everything I can to
make you forget I’m a woman.’
He looked at her sadly. ‘At any other time that might be funny,’ he responded, ‘but here and now … Well, let me tell you this, naivety can be a good thing when you’re starting out in the world, but it’s not going to work for this. Does Wilbur know you’re here? Of course he does. It’s a coup –’
‘No, actually, he doesn’t,’ she interrupted. ‘I’ve been instructed to leave the story alone. Threatened, almost,’ she added.
His eyes filled with dismay. ‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ he said, more to himself than to her.
‘Why doesn’t it?’ she prompted.
His eyes returned to hers and he shook his head. ‘No, do as they tell you,’ he said bleakly. ‘Laurence Goldman’s not going to rock any boats, and certainly not this one. So go home, Laurie Forbes, and stop putting yourself and your boss’s knighthood in jeopardy.’
‘Would you walk away from this if you were me?’ she challenged. ‘No, of course not. You didn’t get to the top by always toeing the line and bowing to every bit of pressure that came your way.’
‘Laurie, you’re a girl,’ he said in a pained tone. ‘You’re not even a woman.’ He looked at the annoyance in her lovely young face, then, as though to temper his rejection, he said, ‘You write well, though. I’ve been reading some of your articles since knowing you were coming.’
‘You don’t have to patronize me,’ she responded.
He shook his head, and said, ‘It’s the truth. Your article this morning, about my wife … I didn’t know about her success until I read your piece. She didn’t – no one told me.’
Laurie looked at his hands on the table and was almost tempted to cover them with her own, for his misery couldn’t have been more pronounced. It seemed he was genuinely hurt that he’d found out about the book in a newspaper, which in turn made her curious to know why his wife hadn’t told him. ‘I submitted the story a few days ago,’ she said, ‘right after I found out. Then I didn’t hear anything until last night when Wilbur called to tell me it would be in today. I suppose, as exclusives go, it was pretty innocuous so they decided to let it run. Have you read the book?’
He nodded. ‘It’s good. Better than good. She’s got talent.’
‘Of course, everyone’s going to be wondering now if any of the characters are based on you,’ she said. ‘Are they?’
He only looked at her.
‘By the time it comes out,’ she continued, ‘everyone’s going to be looking for things that might allude to what’s happened.’
‘It was written before,’ he reminded her.
‘I know, but that won’t stop them looking.’
He was shaking his head. ‘Beth doesn’t know anything,’ he told her.
She watched his eyes, wondering if that were true, but they told her nothing.
After a while he sat back and looked at her frankly. ‘Beth and I are divorcing,’ he said. ‘There’s an exclusive for you.’
Though surprised, she kept her expression neutral and fixed her gaze on his. ‘Why?’ she asked.
He gave a dry, almost bitter laugh. ‘Why does anyone divorce? The marriage is over.’
‘Was it over before this?’
‘Of course. We just hadn’t got round to admitting it.’
‘So why now?’
‘I’ve held her back for too long, and as your colleague Elliot Russell informed the world, I have a child by another woman.’
She nodded. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was having difficulty with the exclusive on a divorce. It seemed a strange thing to offer, though right at that moment she couldn’t work out why. ‘Do you intend to marry Heather Dance?’ she asked bluntly.
He said nothing, but as she looked into his ravaged face she got the impression that the answer was probably yes, if it ever became possible. ‘You know, you owe it to those who love you,’ she said, ‘as well as to yourself, to do everything you can to get out of here.’
‘Ah,’ he responded, ‘there speaks Giles Parker who sends me a girl-child to do the job of at least three grown men. Now why would he do that? I guess because he doesn’t know what’s involved.’
‘So what is?’
He didn’t answer.
‘I’m not working alone,’ she assured him. ‘I have colleagues who are helping me.’
‘Which colleagues? Do I know them?’ There was a glimmer of hope in his voice. ‘You’ve got some good people on your paper.’
Of course he was referring to the boomers whom he’d obviously know, and who would be as likely to work with her as they would to give up the front page for a fiver. Unfortunately, Gino and Flaxie’s names would mean nothing to him, and besides, she hardly even dare mention them when they didn’t know anything about Goldman’s warning, or Wilbur’s deepening concern.
For him her hesitation was answer enough. ‘Ah yes, I forgot, they’re being made to toe the official line,’ he commented. ‘Amazing the power of a mortgage and an offspring’s education. So now tell me this: where are you intending to get the story printed, considering your own employer’s reluctance?’
‘There’s more than one paper,’ she reminded him. ‘And, I imagine, once the whole truth is out, plenty will be more than eager to run it.’
‘Now that’s a fact,’ he responded drily. ‘So what are your theories on the truth, Laurie Forbes?’
‘I have no theories, exactly, but I do know that Sophie Long was a professional escort who very probably entertained several of your colleagues too. I also hear that there are some fibres from the scene that have yet to be matched.’
He was nodding. ‘Good,’ he told her. ‘But forget the professional escort link. It’s got nothing to do with what’s really going on. Doesn’t even come close.’
‘So why is the story being held back? It’s still interesting, and immoral enough to excite the tabloids.’
‘It’ll run when they’re ready.’
‘When who’s ready?’
‘Amongst others, the News of the World. They’ve had the story prepared for a while.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Elliot Russell told Heather, when he interviewed her. Do you know Elliot Russell?’
Deliberately ignoring the question she said, ‘You still haven’t told me why they’re holding the story back.’
His brown eyes regarded her for some time as he debated which way to go. All his male instincts were warning him against getting her involved any further, but time was not on his side.
‘If I trust you with any of this,’ he said in the end, ‘I want your word you’ll take it to Elliot Russell.’ She froze, but he seemed not to notice as he continued, ‘If you don’t know him, just call and tell him you’ve spoken to me in person and he’ll see you straight away. Or get Giles Parker to make the call for you. Russell’s got the experience, the contacts, the staff, all the back-up this is going to need. In fact, he’s probably about the only reporter I know who’s equipped to deal with this, now that the staffers’ hands are being tied, and I’m not even sure how far he can get. Until today I was concerned about his high profile, but frankly, when compared to you and the kind of problems you present … well, I don’t want to be rude, so let’s just say, on your own you’re going to be finished before you’ve begun. With Russell, you might just stand a chance. So, is it a deal? Do I have your word you’ll take this to Russell?’
Laurie eyes were widening as she fought to keep out the resistance. He had no idea what he was asking, and now was hardly the time to tell him, when he’d just agreed to give her the biggest break she’d probably ever get in her career.
He was still watching her, quizzically, as though sensing he’d somehow hit a nerve.
‘What about,’ she said, hedging, ‘letting me evaluate the danger for myself?’
His answer was unequivocal. ‘Sophie Long,’ he responded.
Her heart skipped a beat, for this was the third time Sophie’s name had been used like a warning. ‘Why
was she killed?’ she demanded, as eager to get him off the subject of Elliot, as she was to learn.
‘Because of what I know. They either thought I told her, or they did it to put me right where I am now.’
She was shaking her head. ‘It doesn’t add up,’ she responded. ‘If you and/or Sophie Long have information they don’t want you to have, then why not kill you both and be done with it?’
‘A question I ask myself constantly,’ he replied.
‘Did she have the information?’
‘Not that I was aware of. No. It’s not possible.’
‘Why?’
‘It just isn’t.’
‘If you’re so sure of that, how come someone else wasn’t?’
‘Another question I frequently ask myself,’ he admitted. ‘Now, before we go any further, do I have your word you’ll take what I tell you to Elliot Russell?’
Her heart sank, but it was clear he wasn’t going to give up on that, so deciding she’d work out later how to get out of it, she said, ‘OK. You have my word.’
His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
‘You have my word,’ she repeated forcefully.
Still he looked at her, though whether he was concerned about trusting her, or having second thoughts about everything, she couldn’t tell.
In the end he said, ‘I want you to understand that there’s enough money involved in this to make it worth everyone’s while to get rid of you and Russell, if they have to, and that’s a fact. You’ve probably been in this business long enough to have some idea just how many cover-ups there are in a year, particularly in areas of extreme sensitivity, such as government policies and economic programmes. In other words, if certain people don’t want certain information to get out, believe you me, it generally doesn’t. And there’s no one in this who’s going to want this information out there. No one.’
She started to speak, but stopped when he raised a hand.
‘I don’t know how knowledgeable you are about high finance,’ he said, ‘or the kind of people who are key players in the international banking communities, currency markets, commodity exchanges and so on, but believe me, there are those out there who go hunting billions, and I mean billions, as though it were some sort of sport. It doesn’t matter that they’re already worth more than half a dozen small countries put together, this is a big man’s game where all the big men stand to win and to hell with the little people who get hurt in the chase. I had no idea it was happening until I was invited to join.’ His expression became bitter. ‘And like a bloody fool I turned them down. Don’t ask me why. I’m no more averse to making money than the next man, so maybe I’m just an old-fashioned bloke with morals who cares about his country and the people in it. And did I want to get out there as a government spokesman, spewing all that rubbish about why we’re not joining the euro, why interest rates are on the climb, why the economy’s taking a downturn, whatever I might have to say, knowing that I’m benefiting from whatever disaster’s afoot?’ He was shaking his head. ‘I couldn’t do it.’
