by Susan Lewis
Pushing aside the sheet, she eased herself carefully from the bed and padded out to the hall. There were no lights on anywhere, so she stole steadily, gingerly through the darkness, her hands lightly touching the walls to guide her, her bare feet treading soundlessly on the limestone floor, then tapping ahead like a blind man’s stick to find the two steps that led down to the kitchen. As though to assist her, the moon appeared through the clouds, throwing a misty grey light over the counter-tops and cupboards. Through the large glass doors she could see the pool undulating in the wind, debris skimming its surface. It was as though the world had ceased to exist in colour, only in shades of grey. It was eerie, like a dream.
She crossed to the sink, opened the cupboard beneath it, and found that the Oriental pots, where she and Mitzi had kept their supplies, were gone. She started to shake as panic welled up inside her. She had to have it. She needed it now or the fear would drive her mad. She began searching, opening drawers and cupboards, boxes and even books, to see where he might have hidden it.
‘You won’t find any,’ Theo told her from the doorway.
She spun round, furious and desperate. ‘Where did you put it?’ she hissed. ‘I need it.’
He turned on the light and the world returned to colour. ‘No you don’t,’ he said calmly.
‘Don’t treat me like a child,’ she seethed. ‘Now where is it?’ Her eyes were wild; her shoulders were heaving up and down, cutting her through with pain.
‘Mitzi took it,’ he answered.
‘I have to call her.’ She made to grab the phone, but he was too fast, and snatched it away.
‘I’m trying to help you here, and you’re not making it easy,’ he told her.
‘No one’s asking you to. I can take care of myself.’
‘When that’s true, I’ll go and you can do as you like. Until then, you can learn to live without it.’
She glared at him, eyes full of hate. She wanted to rip the phone from his hands and smash his head against the wall. She wanted to kill him and everyone that was doing this to her – Mitzi, Wingate, Fabio, Colin … She loathed and despised them for taking her life and making it theirs. She needed it back. She had to be in control so she could make it all right. The coke made it all right, but he wouldn’t let her have it. So she had to make him. Somehow she had to find a way of forcing him to give her what she craved, but she didn’t have the strength, and her back hurt so much she had to stop sobbing because it only made it hurt more.
‘You don’t understand,’ she choked. ‘It’s the nightmares. I can’t stand them. I’m afraid to go to sleep.’
‘They’re just nightmares,’ he told her. ‘They’re not real.’
‘But that’s how they feel. If you knew what they were like …’
‘So tell me.’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t. I can’t tell anyone.’
Going to take some water from the fridge, he poured two glasses and handed one to her. ‘What are you so afraid of?’ he asked bluntly. ‘I mean, really. What are you running away from?’
She took a sip of water, then pressed a hand to her head, as though that might stop it throbbing. ‘It has to do with my husband,’ she said, still sobbing, though no longer crying. ‘I think he must have been involved in something, and now they want to know how much he told me.’
‘They being Kleinstein and Wingate?’
She nodded.
‘So what do they want to know?’
‘I can’t tell you,’ she said.
‘Is it to do with the girl who was killed?’
‘Yes. I think so. Partly, anyway.’
‘Did your husband do it?’
She nodded then turned away. ‘I think so, but I don’t want to discuss it,’ she said.
He looked down at her, wishing there was a way of knowing what was really going on in her head. ‘Did anyone ever hurt you like this before?’ he said. ‘When you were in the UK?’
‘No.’
‘So why now?’
‘I think they’re afraid.’
‘What of?’
‘I’m not sure. It’s hard to remember what was said. I just know that they were expecting me to tell them more than I could.’
‘So what did you tell them?’
Her eyes came back to his, and he felt a chill run down his spine as she said, ‘I told them the truth. But it wasn’t enough, because the man Wingate said: “Don’t go thinking we’re finished with you yet, lady, because we’re not.”’ She started to shake again as the memory of those words pushed her fear back to the surface. It wasn’t over; they’d be back for her. That was what he’d said and she knew it was true. So she had to run and hide. She needed somewhere else to go. Her head was swimming again; her limbs felt like sharpened knives.
‘Here, sit down,’ he said, helping her to a chair.
Her hands were bunched together in her lap; evidence of the torture circled her wrists like bangles. Her tears fell on to them, trickling over the tender skin and dripping on to her nightdress. ‘So now do you understand why I’m afraid to go to sleep?’ she said, looking up at him. ‘It’s not only the nightmares, it’s them. I’m terrified they’re going to come after me and it’ll happen all over again. I don’t think I could live through it again.’ The terror in her eyes was so real that he reached for her hands. ‘I’ve got to go somewhere else,’ she choked. ‘I can’t stay here.’
‘You’ll be all right,’ he soothed. ‘You’re not strong enough to go anywhere yet, and I’ll be here.’
‘But not all the time. You have to go out, and I don’t want to be here alone.’
‘We’ll work something out,’ he assured her, looking at the blood seeping through her night-gown. ‘You shouldn’t be out of bed. Come on, I’ll give you a couple more painkillers, then we’ll take you back.’
When he’d settled her down under the sheets, she said, ‘Will you lie down next to me? I’d feel safer then. They might come in through the window.’
For a while they flicked through the TV channels, until finding Mrs Miniver on Movie Classics she said, ‘This is one of my favourites. The last time I watched it was with my granddad. He loved it too.’
‘So you want to watch it again?’
‘Yes. I think so. It might make me cry, though. I expect you’re fed up of me crying.’
‘I’ll get some Kleenex,’ he said, ‘because I’m damned sure it’s going to make me cry too.’
As it turned out she fell asleep well before the end of the film, a hand curled into the crook of his arm, and her head resting against him. A tide of affection swelled through him as he gazed down at her. She seemed so lost, and afraid, and so obviously in need of protection, that he knew he had to do what any other man in his shoes would do. He’d make enquiries tomorrow on where to get a gun, then he’d find someone to teach them both how to use it, because, God knew, if any of those bastards who’d done that to her ever came calling here, he wasn’t going to think twice about using the damned thing himself.
CHAPTER 24
Dear Elliot,
In light of what’s recently happened to Beth and the fact that you have managed to track me down, I am moving away from here to a place that even Colin knows nothing about. I should have known you’d find me eventually – was it through the bank and the mortgage Colin took on our little place in Cornwall? Or did you employ some other means? I don’t suppose you’ll tell, and it doesn’t really matter now. I just beg you, for Jessica’s sake even more than mine, please don’t try to find me again. What they did to Beth has shown us how right Colin was to fear them, and I know the last thing you’d want is to inadvertently lead them to us. Maybe they’ll find me without your help, or maybe, if I can demonstrate that I no longer have any contact with the press, they’ll feel less threatened and leave me alone. For the moment at least, I’m banking on the latter. I want you to know that I truly appreciate your concern for my and Jess’s wellbeing, but I hope you’ll understand and respect my wishes not to pu
rsue us.
With sincere affection,
Heather
AS SHE FINISHED reading the email Laurie looked across the desk at Elliot. ‘Is Gail still down there?’ she said, turning his laptop round and pushing it back towards him.
He nodded. ‘But not for much longer. I have to do as the woman asks.’ He picked up the phone as Murray alerted him to a Priority Two. ‘She’s clearly terrified, and not without reason. Elliot Russell.’
Laurie returned to her own computer, inwardly wincing as she recalled the graphic shots of Beth’s injuries that Tom Maykin’s contact had somehow obtained. They’d arrived as an email attachment a week ago, along with a forty-page dossier detailing over a hundred different US policies and financial strategies – both short and long term, national and international – that the syndicate had almost certainly already reaped the benefits of, or were currently designing. The run on the euro was in the latter category, featuring large.
Having spent the past hour poring over the latest reports, Laurie returned to her own files and the reconstruction of all she could remember from the computer that had been stolen. It was a laborious task, and frustrating, for without the original transcripts it was virtually impossible to know the accuracy of what she was recalling. Most irritating at that moment was the loss of the interviews with Sophie Long’s neighbours, for so much had happened since those early days that she could hardly remember anything they’d said.
‘That was Liam,’ Elliot remarked, putting the phone down. ‘He and Jed are flying to Sydney tomorrow, in case anyone’s interested.’
‘Where are they now?’ Laurie asked, eyes still on her screen.
‘Tokyo. A couple of reporters have backed out over there, which was what the call was about.’
‘Too much heat?’ Murray enquired.
Elliot nodded. ‘It’s not a disaster,’ he said. ‘There are others who can take their places,’ and he turned back to his own screen.
A while later, noticing it was dark outside, Murray said, ‘Who’s for sushi?’
Both Elliot and Laurie raised their hands, as Jerome said, ‘I’ll come with you. If I keep going round the cyber globe at this rate I’ll end up as some kind of weird Orwellian prophecy with air miles.’
Just as the door closed behind them, Laurie’s mobile rang. As it was closest to Elliot he picked it up and handed it to her. For a brief moment their eyes met, then turning away, she tucked it into her shoulder and resumed typing. ‘Laurie Forbes,’ she said.
‘It’s Bruce. Are you sitting down?’
Her fingers immediately stopped. ‘Yes,’ she answered, looking at Elliot.
‘Colin’s agreed to see you next Thursday.’
‘You’re kidding! That’s fantastic. What changed his mind?’ To Elliot she said: ‘Ashby’s agreed to see me.’
Elliot’s eyebrows rose.
‘Maybe what happened to Beth,’ Bruce answered. ‘I don’t know. He just said he’d do it.’
‘Great. What time?’
‘Two thirty. You should get the VO by the beginning of next week.’
‘Great. Thanks, Bruce. Before you go, has Georgie heard from Beth yet?’
‘No, not yet. But she’s in regular touch with the producer chap, Theo.’
‘So how is she?’
‘Making progress.’
‘Is Georgie going out there?’
‘My mind’s made up on that,’ he said shortly. ‘I don’t want her any more involved in this than she already is.’
Thinking of how awful that would make Beth feel were she to hear it, Laurie said, ‘I’m still not having any luck getting hold of Theo Kennedy.’
‘Believe me, if I had the number of that house I’d give it to you,’ he replied. ‘But it would mean snooping through my wife’s address book and that I won’t do.’
‘But Georgie can’t be the only one who has it?’ she said, thinking how misplaced integrity could sometimes be.
‘She’s the only one I know who has it,’ he responded.
‘And after what happened when she gave me the tape, there’s no way she’s going to part with the number now,’ Laurie said dismally. ‘I hear you. But if anything changes …’
‘I’ll let you know. And listen, don’t give yourself such a hard time over that tape. Georgie understands, now you’ve explained about your parents. She’s just not sure what to do for the best at the moment.’
After ringing off Laurie checked the bottom corner of her computer screen for the time, made a quick calculation and was about to start dialling when Elliot said, ‘Laurie, now probably isn’t the time, but –’
‘No, it isn’t,’ she interrupted.
‘You don’t know what I was going to say.’
‘I can guess, and I told you before, I can handle it.’
‘You’re talking about us, I was talking about your state of employment.’
Flushing, she put the phone down and looked at him. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, feeling so excruciatingly embarrassed she wanted to vanish into thin air. ‘So what about my state of employment? Don’t tell me, you want to fire me?’ Though she was joking, it suddenly occurred to her that she might be right, and already she was starting to panic.
‘The reverse actually,’ he responded. ‘I’d like you to join the team. I mean, officially.’
Though relief and even joy flooded her heart to know he wanted to keep her in his life, she was already shaking her head. ‘You know I can’t do that,’ she told him. ‘Once this is over, well,’ she looked away, ‘it’ll be over.’
He allowed a few seconds to tick by before saying, ‘It doesn’t have to be.’
Her eyes remained averted. Did she want to know what that meant? Did she want to grasp at a hope that probably wasn’t even there to be grasped? God knew, it was hard enough being around him every day, with him knowing how she felt – was she really going to make it worse by getting into this any deeper now?
‘I want you to know that this isn’t easy for me either,’ he said softly.
Her head immediately came up, but before she could speak he cut her off.
‘For a good deal of the time I was with Lysette I wanted you,’ he told her. ‘That didn’t change after she died, but I didn’t think it would ever happen. I resigned myself to it, told myself I had to move on. Then all this came up with the story, and we were thrown together … OK, I know I went out of my way to make it happen too, but –’
‘But now you’ve found out you were wrong,’ she provided. ‘That you don’t have feelings for me after all.’
‘Don’t put words in my mouth,’ he growled. ‘What I’m trying to say is since the night we talked …’ He stopped, uncharacteristically at a loss. ‘Well, frankly, I look at you and I don’t know who the hell I’m seeing any more,’ he said bluntly.
Her eyes were steeped in frustration and despair, though somewhere deep in her heart, hope was daring to stir. ‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that,’ she responded.
‘I’m just trying to tell you … What I’m saying is, I don’t know how to get past this. I want to make it up to you …’
Anger flared. ‘I don’t need your pity!’ she snapped. ‘You don’t have to make anything up to me.’
‘I’m sorry, that came out wrong. What I meant was, my feelings for you haven’t changed. They’ve just become well, I don’t know what they’ve become …’
‘Brotherly?’ she suggested sarcastically.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘I’m sorry, I thought you were expecting me to tell you what they are.’
‘No. I’m just trying to be straight with you.’
‘And you think I want to hear all this?’
‘Obviously not.’
‘Got it,’ she said. ‘Now if you don’t mind I need to make this phone call.’
As she dialled Mitzi Bower’s agent in LA her heart was pounding with misery, for she hadn’t meant to say any of that, it had just come out and now there was n
o way of taking it back. Worse was knowing how much she’d just hurt him when all he’d been trying to do was explain how he felt.
By the time Murray and Jerome returned she’d failed once again to get hold of Mitzi Bower’s agent, and was back at her computer, still feeling totally wretched and torn apart by the longing to go and put her arms around Elliot. But of course she wouldn’t. Pride would never let her run the risk of being pushed away.
‘Look who we found at the sushi bar,’ Murray declared, plonking a pile of cartons on Liam’s empty desk.
Both Laurie and Elliot looked up, and registered the same surprise when they saw who was coming in with Jerome.
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Wilbur said, setting down the cartons he’d been seconded to carry.
‘Of course not,’ Elliot assured him.
‘We met him at the sushi bar,’ Jerome said, not having heard Murray say the same thing. ‘In fact, dinner’s on Wilbur.’
‘How generous,’ Elliot remarked, watching him closely.
Wilbur’s birdlike eyes were hunting from side to side in their normal fashion, though his awkwardness was clear. ‘I just wanted to check you were all right,’ he said, not quite looking at Laurie.
‘Of course I am,’ she responded. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘Well, with all that’s been happening …’
Laurie and Elliot exchanged glances. ‘All what?’ Elliot asked.
Wilbur was looking more uncomfortable by the minute.
‘It’s all right to talk,’ Laurie told him. ‘Sam deBugger was in this morning.’
Wilbur frowned.
‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘They all know what we’re doing now, so we don’t really try to hide it any more.’
‘Is that wise?’ he asked.
‘Probably, because it’s the avenues they try to block that we know we have to really push. In other words, they keep giving themselves away. Am I right, Jerome?’
Jerome nodded, his mouth was too full of yellow tail to speak.
‘So to what do we really owe this pleasure?’ Elliot enquired. ‘Or would you prefer to eat first?’
