Behind A Twisted Smile (Dark Minds Book 2)

by Faith Mortimer

  “I’ve never been but I’d like to go.”

  He glanced down at me and smiled. “Then maybe you can. Perhaps we could go together some time.”

  His words made me feel confused, edgy and guilty. I hadn’t said a word about selling my home and moving somewhere else, and at the same time, I longed for us to be together. I nodded vaguely. “Seeing as you’re so knowledgeable, what else do they play in Cuba?”

  “Apart from the wonderful jazz, of course, there’s son, the birth of all Cuban music, salsa, rumba, bolero and nueva trova, a genre which arose after the Cuban revolution in 1959. Havana is an amazing place, you know, and you can hear different music on every street and corner. It’s emotionally charged, throbbing with vocals and drumming, right through to ballads.”

  “It sounds wonderful. Is it easy to go there? I thought there was some sort of embargo or something.”

  “Not for us Brits. The Americans can’t or won’t go—still too political for a lot of people, although masses of Canadians visit. The Cubans I met were friendly and seemed genuinely interested in meeting visitors to their country. They’ve had a good deal of strife over the years, but maybe it’ll all change.” He paused before continuing. “Cuba has two currencies, one for the locals and one for the tourists. The locals earn the equivalent of seventeen dollars a month and operate on a rationing system. Getting their hands on tourist money is crucial to them. It’s this desperation that triggers the ‘taxi, taxi’, as soon as you emerge from your hotel. It’s also the same reason you’ll be constantly asked the time or where you’re from on an hourly basis. They know you have money, and there are only a few ways they can get it. Cuba is beautiful and charming, but the ‘twee’ idea of Havana, of smiling faces, dancing in the streets and everyone having a good old time is really just a myth. You see, the popular tourist streets are the Cubans’ office, and while you’re there, you’re their client for a range of services from taxis to tour guide to cheap cigars. Care for a quick salsa?”

  I listened, spellbound. Jon was normally a quiet guy, and for him it was quite a speech. Cuba had obviously caught his imagination. I opened my mouth to reply and froze.

  Martyn and Evie had just walked in. They were arm in arm and all over each other. Watching Martyn’s behaviour, I turned away, feeling queasy. I suppressed a sigh. I should have known they would be there. Evie and Jackie’s husband were in the same year at college and hung out together for a while. All the same, I felt the fun of the evening evaporate and I wondered how soon we could leave.

  “Maybe later. I really am famished.” I tugged at his sleeve. He must have caught sight of Evie and Martyn, as he frowned before following me back into the hall. It was later, while we were piling food onto our plates, when I suddenly got an attack of nervous giggles.

  “What’s so amusing?” Jon murmured into my ear as he speared a piece of tandoori chicken onto his plate.

  I stood back and peered shakily up into his flecked eyes, panic welling up in me. I didn’t know what to say; hysteria wasn’t far off, and I was having great trouble keeping it under control. Eventually, I managed to squeak. “Oh, nothing much. Just me being silly.”

  “No, really? Something must have made you laugh. You looked daggers when Martyn walked into the room.”

  “You noticed. If you must know, I suddenly had a stupid idea that my life is reminiscent of a farce or a Greek tragedy. If it wasn’t so bloody awful, it would resemble a situation comedy. I’m not in control of my destiny. Someone’s intent on pulling the strings and I neither like it nor know what to do. It’s…it’s—” My voice cracked and wobbled with misery. If I had been acting, I would have won Oscar.

  As I hadn’t told Jon about what had happened, naturally, he looked puzzled and even more so when he noticed the tell-tale tears glistening on my eyelashes.

  “Moya,” he said softly, his arm slipping round my shoulders. “Please don’t be upset. You can tell me. What’s upset you?”

  “Here she is.” A loud voice erupted behind me, and to my dismay and annoyance, I knew Martyn had followed us into the dining room. “Moya, we want you to be the first to know.”

  I looked from Martyn’s triumphant, gloating face to Evie’s hostile one. A wave of despondency washed over me. I knew I didn’t want to hear anything Martyn was about to impart.

  “Hello, Evie,” I managed. I wasn’t even sure whether my sister replied, as Martyn suddenly grabbed her left hand and held it out.

  “Evie has done me the honour of becoming my wife. We’ve just got back. We knew you’d be here and wanted to surprise you.”

  Dumbstruck and more than a little fearful, I stared at the gold band encircling Evie’s finger.

  I don’t know how I got through the rest of that evening. All I could think of was Martyn revelling in how he had decided he wanted their marriage to be wholly romantic. He had contacted Gretna Green, just over the border in Scotland, arranged the paperwork and two weeks later, whisked Evie up there.

  “Evie was completely taken by surprise, bowled over by what I arranged,” he bragged in between sips of champagne. “She had no idea I wanted our marriage ceremony to be so different. She should have guessed I wouldn’t waste time on any old thing.” He smirked in my direction, and I almost flinched under the force of his triumphant glare.

  “What about Mum? Did she know about it all?” I asked, noticing Evie standing pale and silent by his side. Why did she seem so detached?

  Martyn waved a hand dismissively. “Of course I had to fill her in. Belinda was a little tearful at first, but once she understood how much I wanted this and how excited Evie would be when we reached Gretna Green, she gave me—us—her blessing. In fact, she went as far as paying for the honeymoon suite in the hotel as part of her wedding gift to us.” He glanced down at Evie and gave her a hug. “Belinda—Mum I should say now, ha ha—has been magnificent. She paid for everything, and it’s enabled us to move into our new home early.”

  This was all news to me, of course. I hadn’t spoken to any of my family or Martyn after the last altercation. Mum obviously still bore me a humungous grudge, and shunning me was her way of punishment. Although it was upsetting, I knew we would eventually make our peace and things would carry on as usual. We were close in our own way; we didn’t usually make a song and dance over fights, but we had weathered everything else and so we would my excommunication. Our family never banished a member for ever. All the same, I wondered just how much Mum had forked out on Martyn’s little party trick. I didn’t begrudge Evie one penny, but Martyn was another matter.

  I glanced at Evie again and realised that not only did she look colourless and withdrawn, she had lost even more weight. I wasn’t used to this thin older sister of mine. If truth be told, it didn’t suit her. Evie suited a size twelve or fourteen, not an eight or ten like me. She had a much larger frame than I and could carry the extra weight. I risked speaking to her, knowing she couldn’t ignore me completely at someone else’s party.

  “Congratulations, Evie. You must have been stunned by Martyn’s surprise. Did you really have no idea of what he was planning?”

  She stole a look at her new husband and shook her head, two pink spots appearing on her cheeks. Her face remained blank. “No.” Her voice a hoarse whisper.

  “Well, you look…good.” I lied. She looked ill and not the radiant bride she should have been. “I see you’ve lost more weight.”

  Again, she flicked a look towards Martyn before answering. “Yes. Martyn likes me thin.”

  Thin, he might, but I reckoned she had shed over a stone in the three weeks or so since I last saw her. I wondered what our other sisters and mother thought. Darcy being Darcy, sixteen years old and into herself, probably hadn’t even noticed. Angela spent all her time alternating between the family sweet factory and her two children. She of all of us was on the farthest limb of the tree. She kept herself to herself, preferring her work, except when she had to attend family gatherings. Like Darcy, Angela probably wouldn’t hav
e noticed, or if she had, she would have guessed Evie had gone on a crash diet for the wedding.

  I suddenly realised Martyn was speaking to Faye, who had wandered into the room, and I stiffened. I watched as Martyn exuded his oily charm and drew Faye into his and Evie’s circle. Faye kissed Evie’s cheek, admired the band of gold and then allowed Martyn to kiss her on the lips. I nearly gagged. Martyn laughed, hugged both women in his embrace and cast a leer in my direction. I knew it was definitely time to leave.

  Chapter 21

  “For an architect, you sure get around the world,” I said, snuggling in Jon’s arms as he said goodbye. I leaned back and stared into his face; his eyes were warm and tender as he kissed me a final time.

  “True.” He stood away from the bed where I still lounged, wrapped up in the duvet. “But it’s not always like this.” I knew he had to get home to pack, as he was off to San Francisco that afternoon.

  “Are you tied to the firm? Like a partnership or anything?” I realised I still didn’t know that much about Jon’s employment, except the company he worked for was a middling to largish one. From early on in our relationship, we had this unspoken agreement not to talk too much about work, and for the most part, we had kept to this.

  He nodded before moving towards the door. “Not a partner, but I am a director—still junior, but I have expectations. Sorry, I have to dash. I’d really like nothing more than spend the morning in bed with you. I have to get Tango to the kennels as soon as they open. I’ll ring you before I leave. Bye.” He touched his fingers to his lips and was gone.

  I lingered for a moment, revelling in the luxury of a lie-in. Jon was good for me: steady, feet on the ground and always willing to listen when I cared to share what was on my mind. And he was a wonderful lover.

  I laughed. Yes, Jon was good to have around. I felt guilty about his poor dog being left on the nights he spent with me; maybe I should have offered to look after him while Jon was away. I always liked well-behaved dogs, and he would have been good company as well as some sort of protection. I vowed to mention it to Jon on his return.

  I suddenly felt the need for a run and throwing off the duvet, leapt out of bed and grabbed my sports gear. I fastened the laces of my trainers, slipped a sweatband round my head and drank a glass of water before leaving the house. Glancing at my watch, I saw it was eleven thirty. The neighbourhood was empty apart from a man washing his car outside his house. I glanced both ways before crossing the road and then set off with a medium-paced jog.

  The wind felt cold on my face, and I noticed there was still a hint of ice in the gutter, from the previous night. I ran down an alley, which took me on a shortcut through to the park, and settled into my rhythm. The sky was the palest of blues with hints of sunshine peeking from behind a thin layer of fluffy cloud. I passed a woman walking her spaniel and called out a greeting. I met a runner coming the other way, and we exchanged knowing smiles. I saw the local publican opening up The Black Swan and laughed when a cat harried a dog away from its sunny spot on the pavement. For a moment, I saw the world as it was— everyday happenings going on all around me, and I felt happy. The hours ahead promised to make it into a glorious crisp and dry, late, autumn day, and here was I running along near empty streets and pathways.

  Ever since Jackie’s party and Evie and Martyn’s gobsmacking revelation, things had taken a turn for the better. My family had started speaking to me again. We weren’t entirely back to all being bosom friends, but at least we were talking. I was treading carefully, knowing the turnaround was like walking on cracked glass. One step wrong and I would have been back to stage one. I wasn’t making enormous overtures of friendship; I considered it best to let things proceed very, very slowly.

  Evie had thawed enough to speak in monosyllables when I addressed her. So far, she hadn’t made any attempt to start a proper conversation with me, but I wasn’t worried. I knew she would give a little each week, and Christmas wasn’t that far off. As a family, we normally spent it at Mum’s, and so long as none of us argued, the seasonal festivities would be a good place for cementing better relations all round. I was positive Jon would spend the holiday period with me. I got the feeling he was thinking about upping the status of our relationship, and I could hardly wait to say yes.

  After half an hour, I turned for home, increasing my speed. It felt good to run fast.

  ***

  Later that afternoon, I went through my finances. I needed to get them up to date, as, for once, I had been tardy. I wasn’t the best at maths and my sister, Angela, had set up a simple accounting system for me when I started my business. Everything looked rosy on the spreadsheet. I was making a healthy profit; it seemed people didn’t want to give up their aromatherapy massage in spite of a recession. If this was the case, then if I did move, starting up again wouldn’t be too damaging to my bank balance. It was a big if. I was biding my time. With Evie and Martyn married, I hoped things would get back to normal and I didn’t have to worry.

  I paused and thought about Jon. So far, all I had told him was that my flat was ‘quietly’ on the market…just as a test. I hadn’t discussed moving away from the area. I wondered where he and I were heading. If we became more serious, then there was a distinct possibility we could live together. Was I ready for a full-time liaison? I believed so, and the idea filled me with gorgeous warm thoughts. I laughed at my daydreams. I wasn’t ready for a meringue-white wedding dress, but thoughts of waking up next to Jon every day was definitely top of my list. A sweet dream if ever I had one.

  The ringing of the phone broke into my sweet imaginings, and I was taken aback when I saw it was Evie’s name on the screen. It was the first time in weeks and weeks since she had rung me. My heart leapt. Was it her first overture towards us being happy sisters again? My hand trembled slightly as I pressed the answer button. “Evie?”

  “Yes,” she sounded breathless, as if unsure or worried.

  “What is it?”

  “Can you come round?”

  Stunned, I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice. “Yes, of course. When?”

  “Now.”

  Now? I glanced at the open books on the kitchen table. I was almost done. I just needed to do a final tot-up: ten, fifteen minutes at most. I wanted to be sure I had enough capital to survive the next year in case there was a change of plan.

  “I can be there in about, say, half an hour. That okay?”

  I needed ten minutes to get there. I really wanted to finish my task while it was still fresh in my head, and besides, she had made me suffer for a few months. She could surely wait ten minutes or so.

  There was a lengthy pause, and I wondered if she had rung off. “Evie, you still there?”

  “Yes, I was thinking. That’s fine, but please don’t be any longer.”

  She sounded odd, uptight.

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes, quite sure.”

  “Is Martyn with you? Will he be there?”

  “No, he won’t be here. He’s at work. He said he’d be back in about two hours at the end of his shift. I…I want to talk to you. As sister to sister. Without him being around. He knows I’m going to speak to you, though. He was he who suggested we talk.”

  “Fine. Okay, I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

  Mystified, I put my phone in my pocket. So what had she got to tell me? And why had Martyn suggested we get together for a chat? I couldn’t really see him in the role of peacemaker. An odd thought struck me. Was Evie as happy as a new bride ought to have been?

  Chapter 22

  Although I had never been inside Evie’s new house, I had been curious enough to drive past in daylight and have a good look at the place once I knew she had definitely bought it with Martyn. It was modern and huge for just two people. I really couldn’t see them having children, despite their earlier talk, and expensive. Evie’s new home was set in a private road of about a dozen dwellings. The houses all had long drives leading off the road, and I was astonished
to see that each plot of land covered well over an acre. Apart from being completely secluded from neighbours, the whole development was situated in open countryside. Along the backs of the houses, I knew there were miles of fields and light woodland as well as a river. It was all very peaceful and highly desirable. It would definitely have suited Martyn’s super-huge ego.

  Evening was descending fast as I arrived, and after turning into the drive, I parked behind Evie’s car, which was standing in front of the closed double-garage doors. I got out and glanced at an upstairs window where I could see a light. Downstairs appeared to be in complete darkness. I shivered as I walked up to the front door; it was very cold, and I wondered why Evie hadn’t left the welcoming porch light on. She knew I would be there soon. I rang the doorbell and waited. To kill time I glanced round the road. There was no one in sight, and only a few other houses looked like they were occupied judging by the odd light dotted here and there. I supposed people were taking advantage of the weeks before Christmas to buy presents. There was nothing like getting it all done early and beating the late rush.

  When Evie didn’t appear, I rang again. I rattled the door handle, but it was locked. Puzzled, I decided to explore round the back, thinking she might have been in the garden. There was a tall wooden gate which led to the rear, and when I tried the handle, it turned in my hand, and the gate swung open. I closed it behind me and walked along the path. The first thing I saw was a wide sweep of lawn. Slightly unkempt flower beds lined either side, and in the distance, along the bottom fence, I spied a row of trees and what looked like a garden shed in the left-hand corner. A rambling plant of some kind covered most of the roof of the shed and as far along the bottom fence to a gate set in the centre. From where I was standing, the gate looked closed. A bicycle was left leaning against the shed door, and I guessed it was one of the two new ones Evie had bought. I wondered how much use she would make of hers—she always loathed exercise. The skeleton branches from the trees reached up against a backdrop of purple-mauve-coloured sky. The air was still, and apart from a few late birds getting ready to roost in the trees, it was as quiet as a graveyard. There was no sign of Evie. The garden was empty.