‘So that’s where you live!’
‘Oops. I’m still half asleep. Can you pretend you didn’t hear that?’
‘Hear what?’ Dan glanced across and smiled. He reached across and squeezed her hand. ‘Don’t worry. You’re totally ready for this.’
‘How do you know?’
‘For the billionth time, trust me, would you? This is going to be fun.’
Naomi went quiet as she fastened her seatbelt and allowed Dan to take her to the house and lead her round the back of it to the pool room. It was always toasty warm in sharp contrast to the outside. Dan closed the door and locked it. Naomi got changed.
They spent the first half hour going over the things she’d already done. She did them with no anxiety at all, but the deep end sword was hanging over her.
Then Dan took her face in his hands and said, ‘It’s time.’
‘I don’t want to do it.’
‘Naomi, everyone should be able to swim confidently. Everyone should feel comfortable in water. It’s essential. You’ve done great this week, and now it’s time to shift things up a gear.’
‘I’m not ready.’
Dan smiled. ‘You never will be. We’re going to go underwater together right here before we go up there.’ He nodded towards the other end of the pool. ‘Are you OK with that?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘OK, on the count of three, bend your knees and drop below the surface of the water with me and we’ll come right back up.’
Her heart was thudding.
‘One,’ Dan took her hands. ‘Two, three.’ He bobbed under the water and back up, but she’d let go of his hands.
Dan laughed.
‘Let me count,’ Naomi said.
She counted down and froze. The thought of the water smothering her face was too much.
Dan stepped forward and took hold of her hands and held them. Then he leant in and closed his eyes and kissed her. Her instinct was to fold her arms around his neck and pull him closer, but Dan kept her arms by her side and a loose grip on her hands. His lips were moist with cool water, but his mouth was warm. Her eyes were closed. Dan gently pulled on her hands and she felt her knees give way. Dan continued to kiss her, slowly until the water rose around them, shoulders, neck, chin, all the way. Clinging to Dan and keeping up the connection, she allowed Dan to pull her under. He squeezed her hands. Well done. And they stood tall again.
She felt elated. Dan lifted her into his arms and she stretched out, almost weightless, and put the back of her head into the water. ‘I did it,’ she yelled.
‘You did it,’ Dan echoed.
‘I can’t believe it,’ she shouted, spreading her arms behind her head and splashing around while Dan let go, and she floated effortlessly.
‘Deep end,’ Dan said. ‘Right now.’
‘Now?’
‘It’s the best time,’ he said. ‘I’ll swim right underneath you, so if you panic and want to put your feet down, you can step on my back, OK?’
She found her feet and they waded to the edge of the pool and Naomi took hold of the side. Dan stood next to her.
‘I’ll be right underneath you,’ he said again. ‘Tell me when you’re ready.’
Naomi looked across the metres of water to the other end of the pool. She took two deep breaths and said to Dan, ‘I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.’
‘You can do this,’ he said, and bent over to kiss her cheek. ‘The idiot – couldn’t-teach-swimming-for-being-a-prat, what was he called?’
‘Mr Barnard. I still dream about him.’
‘Shall we show Mr Barnard how it’s done? Then he can leave you in peace forever.’
‘I think we should.’
‘Count down from three and let’s go then.’
Naomi filled her lungs with air, counted down slowly and watched Dan change into a shifting shape beneath her. Then, heart racing, she launched herself away from safety and headed for deeper water.
<><><>
Solomon looked over his garden from the card room. A mild spell had lured the daffodils from their dark hiding places but hadn’t enticed them to open. It was only a matter of time.
The sun was already falling. Late afternoon sunshine dappled the lawn, broken by a line of tall trees. His phone buzzed from the desk behind him. He turned sharply to see Nathan’s name. Nathan? What did he want?
Out of curiosity, he picked up the phone and pressed answer. ‘Nathan,’ he said. ‘Why would you disturb me on a peaceful afternoon?’ His quiet tone was drizzled with irritation.
‘You said I could call if I had any information.’
‘So I did.’
‘So, I’m calling with some information.’
‘And what makes you think it would be valuable to me?’
‘I know you.’
‘No you don’t.’
Silence.
Solomon smiled and said, ‘No matter, let’s play nicely. What pearl of information have you got?’
‘I know where the Hamiltons live.’
Solomon stiffened before he dropped into a leather chair. ‘That’s old news, Nathan.’
‘Of course it is. You have Dan in your pocket.’
Solomon examined his free hand. ‘Don’t make assumptions or you may land yourself in trouble.’
‘I’ve had enough of your threats, Vincent. You’ve left me with nothing. What do I have to lose?’
‘Your looks?’ Solomon said, and Nathan went quiet. ‘Your freedom? Need I go on?’
‘Why are you doing this to me?’
‘Doing what?’ Solomon left room for a reply which never came. ‘What’s this really about, Nathan? Tired of being a mummy’s boy?’
‘I want my own place,’ Nathan snapped. ‘That bitch has all my cash.’
‘Language. Language. May I give you a piece of advice, Nathan?’ He went on, without permission. ‘Go and find yourself a wealthy older woman – someone who’s bored enough to need a little excitement, someone who’s willing to throw good money at a bad loser. Find somewhere quiet to live with her. Florida’s nice this time of year. Don’t crowd my space, do we understand each other?’
‘How come Dan’s got everything: my wife, my money, the life I planned?’
‘Well, that’s a simple one. In life, we usually get what we deserve. It’s the law of attraction, Nathan. You still have your looks and your freedom, which, under the circumstances is more than you deserve. There’s a very good website, plenty-more-fish-in-the-sea.com. Why not check it out for divorcees who’ve come away with a nice little settlement. Go for the generous type who go weak at the knees and careless with the purse at the sight of young flesh.’
‘I don’t like older women, Vincent. Everything moves south when women get older. I’m holding out for a divorce settlement of my own, and now I know where my wife’s been hiding –’
‘You’ll go nowhere near that house.’ Solomon served an icy pause. ‘Your wife hasn’t been hiding. She’s getting on with her life, Nathan. She’s back at college, haven’t you heard? And she won’t be your wife for very much longer. You will help her to annul the marriage.’
‘Not without some cash I won’t.’
‘Pardon?’
‘What business is she of yours?’
‘You’re trying my patience now. I’ll be very clear so we can wrap this up. Go within one hundred metres of Naomi Hamilton and no attractive divorcee this side of the Atlantic will give you a second glance now or in the future. I’ll be overseeing this particular situation for reasons of my own. I’ll bend that rule just once: when you meet her over legal matters to end the marriage. Any questions?’
‘I need money.’
‘That isn’t a question and isn’t my problem. And be warned, this story has had all the attention it’s getting. If you attempt to sell your side, you will not live to regret it.’
Nathan sighed dramatically. ‘At least let me have Lorie.’
Solomon laughed. ‘Not going to happen. Will that be
all?’
There was a loud pant before, ‘You can’t stop me from seeing Lorie.’
‘Actually, I can. It’s happened. Past tense. Finished.’
‘Does she miss me?’
Solomon ignored the question. ‘You had your opportunity to make a little cash and keep Lorie in the bargain, and you failed.’
‘I didn’t fail. I made a perfect plan and did everything right!’ Nathan shouted.
‘Don’t raise your voice at me,’ Solomon said quietly.
Nathan fell silent.
Solomon said, ‘If you made a perfect plan then why is your wife a second-year music student with more than a million in the bank, while you have zilch?’
‘That’s exactly what I want to know, and you have the answers.’
‘So that’s why you called – not to offer information that you knew I already had, but to fish. How stupid do you think I am?’
‘I know you’re not stupid. You knew my plan was watertight, and you intervened and stopped it happening.’
‘Well, that’s a fanciful idea, Nathan. I don’t appreciate accusations.’
A long break where Solomon could hear Nathan’s breaths coming in short bursts. The light was dimming outside.
‘There is something I’ve been wondering about, seeing as you’re on.’ Solomon said. ‘What do you know about Simon Wilde’s disappearance?’
A pause. ‘Who?’
‘Don’t play games with me. What’s happened to your ex-girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend? She’d like to know too. Revenge was it? Someone to take your frustrations out on because you failed with Lorie and Naomi?’
‘I don’t know anything,’ Nathan said.
‘The police were crawling all over your apartment last year and came up with nothing, which means that someone did a very good job. So what have you done?’
Silence a beat. Nathan drew a noisy breath. ‘If I give you information, what’s it worth?’
‘You’re unbelievable,’ Solomon said. ‘I think we’re done, Nathan. Be pleased that I’m letting you go. It’s what you always wanted.’
‘Not like this. I need money and I want Lorie.’
‘In that order? Priorities, please.’ Solomon broke off, but Nathan didn’t speak. ‘Maybe you got too greedy. Don’t call me again. Don’t contact Naomi Hamilton unless it’s to end the marriage. Don’t contact Lorie Taylor at all. Don’t hedge or cross any of my paths, are we clear? One do – do send a postcard from Florida.’
Solomon cut the call and flicked through his contacts and paused to think. He glanced at his watch.
‘Let’s see how things are going,’ he said to himself, and pressed call.
Four rings later, ‘Yes?’
‘Not very pleasant. Do you mean, “Hello, Vincent”?’
‘No, I mean I can do without this. What do you want?’
‘An update. It needn’t take long.’
‘Fine. It’s going well. Bye.’
‘Just a minute,’ Solomon cleared his throat. ‘Why do I feel as though you’re withholding information?’
‘No idea.’
‘May I offer a crumb of advice – something my father used to say that floats into my mind occasionally. Maybe it will help.’
‘I don’t need help.’
‘A matter of opinion.’
‘Whatever! What is it then, this advice of yours?’
‘Just a little saying, somewhat crude, admittedly – treat them mean, keep them keen.’
‘Poetic, Vincent.’
‘Let’s not be silly. Poetry it isn’t, useful it may be. Girls aren’t looking for lapdogs. It’s built into their DNA to select a strong leader and provider, someone who can drop the proverbial boar at the cave door every evening after a hard day of work. Modern society has meddled with the sexes and produced men who barely fit into the male category at all, and women who go to war. A few decades of domesticating men into obedient dogs and making Rottweilers out of women can’t obliterate thousands of years of genetic coding. Do you follow?’
A sigh. ‘Not really.’
‘Well, use your intelligence. Women, whether they admit it or not, are looking to be captained and led –’
‘And ruled?’
‘Not necessarily. But they like a show of strength, some assurance that the male they’ve selected is going to stand between them and the fire, so to speak. They want to feel safe. They want the assurance that they’ve picked the best possible mate.’
Silence, until, ‘I’d like to go now.’
‘Always nice to chat.’
<><><>
Nathan was in Suede nightclub, hoping to see someone. He’d looked up PC Kerry Marshall on Facebook since he’d last seen her. On her profile picture, she was standing in front of a silver sports car. On that basis alone, he’d sent her a friend request. She hadn’t accepted, but had replied with a private message telling him she’d love to keep in touch, but didn’t want her colleagues knowing they were friends. Nathan had smiled. It was the perfect response. Nathan didn’t want her colleagues knowing they were friends either, but he’d found a way in. It wouldn’t be long before he had access to her mobile phone number and just about anything else he wanted to help himself to. It was a distraction until he could find something more productive to do, like getting his money without attracting Solomon’s attention.
Nathan had immediately responded to her private message by telling her he understood. And then he’d let her stew for a while. It always worked. Plant seeds. Water them from a distance. Allow things to take root and grow, then rake the harvest.
When boredom overcame him a couple of weeks later, he’d relented and decided to get in touch again. It was a little premature, but life was pretty crap, so to spice things up he’d sent this: ‘I don’t suppose you go to Suede every week. I’ll be alone in there tomorrow night. It’d be good to see you again if you’re free. If not, no worries. I can drown my sorrows quite ably by myself. Nathan.’
So here he was, sipping sparingly on red wine. He’d bought a bottle with his last pennies. It was in front of him beside an extra glass. Kerry had sent a vague response. She was trying to play it cool, but he knew she’d come. He’d gone to the trouble of dressing carefully and loaded on his favourite aftershave – the one that had sent Lorie wild in the old days and had her nibbling his neck in search of the scent. These days he didn’t even know where Lorie was. Her old flat was empty. She hadn’t contacted him at all. OK, she wasn’t allowed to, but when had that ever stopped her from breaking the rules? He wondered if she was still in love with him as he drew another sip of wine and consulted his watch and told himself to forget her.
Kerry Marshall drifted into view thirty seconds later and made it easier to stow memories of Lorie away. The sexy PC, all the more enticing because she was a PC, was wearing a small black dress. Nathan watched her approach. Her dress was intriguing and was made of the kind of shifting material which gave enticing little glimpses whenever she moved. It would have been entirely see-through without the floaty underskirt which finished three inches shorter than the outer layer. She looked like a delicious present, ready to unwrap. The dress wasn’t tight and was sleeveless, and had a kind of scoop neck which showed a hint of cleavage and loosely followed her curves and flicked out at the bottom away from her legs. She had great pins too. Very nice. A pair of chunky black ankle boots were at the end of them, which defied her dress somehow, but also made it work. She looked hot, but slightly unsure of herself, like she was only half convinced she should be there.
Nathan smiled the kind of strained smile which was meant to tell Kerry Marshall that he was unsure too, and that he was pining for his wife, but had managed to drag himself out of the house. He’d have to play this carefully. A challenge was just the antidote to the dull existence he was leading at the moment.
‘Hey,’ he said, fighting the music. She mouthed some greeting in return and clung to her handbag. Resorting to sign language, Nathan patted the space beside him on the leather so
fa and Kerry sat down carefully, half a metre away. ‘So glad you came,’ he said, too quietly.
She instinctively did what he knew she would do – she shuffled closer because she couldn’t hear him.
‘Sorry?’
He lessened the gap from his end and leant into her ear. ‘Glad you could make it.’ He paused to breathe against her hair and give her chance to inhale his scent. ‘You look really nice.’
‘Thank you,’ she smiled, looking at him very directly. ‘So, how are you doing?’
‘Not great,’ he said, which was true enough. ‘Naomi is in a full-on relationship with Dan and is doing nothing to be discreet about it.’
She sat on her hands and straightened her back and leant forward. ‘That must be hard.’
‘Yeah.’
‘I’m really sorry.’
Nathan twitched his shoulders. ‘I’ve done all I can. I moved out of the flat so that Dan could have it. I gave Naomi all the space she asked for. I haven’t seen Lorie since the wedding, even though there’s no reason to be faithful to Naomi any more. The only communication Naomi’s made with me is by initiating divorce proceedings.’
‘It’s too soon for a divorce.’
‘By divorce I mean an annulment, but she has no grounds.’ He collected his glass from the table and took a sip. ‘My life’s one almighty mess.’
‘I’m sure it’ll improve, Nathan. You’ve got a lot going for you.’
A chink. Nathan took advantage and loaded her with an intense and thoughtful stare. She met it willingly. He worked for a hint of vulnerability. ‘You really think so?’
‘Yeah, definitely.’
He broke eye contact. Eye contact was like chocolate, best delivered piece by sweet piece. Too much of it could be sickly. ‘At the moment, I can’t think of anything. Drink?’
She nodded. Nathan poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her.
‘You know I helped interview Jess Buckley?’ she said.
Hello! ‘Who?’ Nathan asked, painting confusion on his face. He knew exactly who Jess Buckley was.
‘The air stewardess who was on your flight home from the Caribbean.’
The Darkness Visible Page 23
