by Carys Jones
‘I knew you shouldn’t have come here alone,’ Charles rushed over and instinctively embraced Laurie, not caring what Henry or any other potential onlookers would think. Laurie buried herself against his chest, fresh tears soaking his coat.
‘It’s too hard,’ Laurie cried, her body trembling as she sobbed.
‘Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here now,’ Charles gently whispered into her ear as he stroked her golden hair.
As Laurie cried he looked at the great tree behind her, unscathed from the collision all those months ago. The only indication that a life had been taken on that spot was the meagre offering of flora nestled amongst the protruding roots. Charles envisioned how, when the tyre marks were still fresh on the road, that there would have been an abundance of flowers left there to commemorate Lorna. But time had moved on and now only the most dedicated made the journey there to place some carnations and pay their respects. It was sobering how time could erase someone so effortlessly.
‘I thought it would be okay,’ Laurie whispered, her voice hoarse. ‘That I could come here and just look, but I keep imagining her …’ her voice broke off as she struggled to complete the sentence.
‘Yeah, I know, it’s so hard.’
But for Charles, it wasn’t as hard as he had feared. Rather than being consumed by grief, his mind was instead preoccupied with concern for Laurie. Perhaps she was merely distracting him from his own despair, but she was a welcome distraction.
They stood there, Laurie still locked safely within Charles’ arms, as the Deputy Prime Minister scanned the area around them. It was an average country lane, pretty and narrow, with ancient strong oak trees standing guard over the road, and beyond them fields of luscious green vegetation. It was a beautiful piece of countryside, but what struck Charles was how it was hardly a spot which would attract those wishing to commit suicide.
Most places which tragically became associated with those wishing to end their life were bridges or railway lines, so that there was a guarantee that you would not live past your suicide attempt. Here, the road winded in such a way that it would be extremely difficult to generate enough speed to slam in to a tree at a high enough impact for it to be fatal. There were so many variables for why it would not work.
‘Why would Lorna have been driving down this lane?’ Charles asked, trying to think about the situation from a logical perspective.
‘Erm …’ Laurie rubbed at her eyes in an attempt to clear away the shroud of sadness and give her thoughts some clarity.
‘This is just the road we always used to use to get home. It connects us to everything in town, like the shops, the cinema. As I told you, it takes ages to bypass this area.’
‘So this road had no particular significance for Lorna?’
‘Not that I know of.’ Laurie frowned as she trudged through a lifetime of memories for anything relevant regarding the spot on which they were stood, but she came up with nothing.
‘I hate that she died alone.’ Laurie freed herself from Charles’ embrace and went and knelt beside the bouquets of flowers. She gently reached forward and placed a palm upon the tree trunk, at what might have been the point of impact, as if hoping the wood itself might burn with the imprint of what happened that night.
‘Apparently she had been dead for forty minutes before anyone drove past and saw her,’ the words sounded emotionless as Laurie relayed them, in the style of a news reporter, with cold indifference.
‘But I read the report,’ Charles came and knelt down beside her, placing a supportive arm around her small shoulders, ‘and she would have died instantly when she hit the tree. She would not have suffered.’
Laurie kept her palm pressed up against the tree trunk, silently cursing the world around her for taking away that which mattered most to her.
‘I called my contact,’ Charles said quietly, suddenly remembering the pretence he had orchestrated for his visit. Laurie remained silent and so he continued.
‘He was vague as he doesn’t have all the details yet, but something about the report isn’t right.’
‘What does that mean?’ Laurie’s words were sharp now as she grew tense at the possibility of hope which was being dangled before her.
‘I don’t know. I need more information, but there is something – I just don’t know what it is yet.’
‘She wouldn’t have done this. She wouldn’t have deliberately slammed her car into a tree. It’s not Lorna.’ Laurie turned to face him, her features dark and grave as she spoke.
Charles was struck by Laurie’s beauty; even when stricken with grief she had the face of an angel. She was right beside him, gazing into his eyes. Charles felt himself being drawn to her, leaning forwards, wanting more than anything to kiss her, to feel her lips against his. He went to move closer when his mobile phone screamed out, shattering the silence between them.
Flustered, Charles removed the ringing mobile phone from his pocket and noted the name flashing manically on the display: Elaine. With one swift movement, he cancelled the call.
Elaine Lloyd sat in her recently renovated dining room and listened to the familiar answerphone message as her hand clenched around the telephone receiver in frustration. When the beep came, signalling that it was her turn to speak, she inhaled before relaying her anger to the automated system.
‘Charles, where on earth are you? I called your office and Faye says that she doesn’t know where you are. What is going on?’ Elaine paused, trying to contain her fury.
‘It is now six o’clock. Six o’clock Charles! Have you forgotten the diabetic benefit we are attending this evening? For Christ’s sake, we are supposed to be leaving in twenty minutes and I’ve no idea where you are! Dammit Charles!’
As she disconnected the call, Elaine slumped down in her chair, feeling defeated. An angry fire continued to course through her veins but this was tempered by an overpowering sense of neglect and disappointment. It was her duty, as a wife, to at least know the physical whereabouts of her husband. Elaine let her head fall into her hands in despair. She was failing. Every day, Charles became more of a stranger to her.
The clock positioned on the wall opposite mocked her, reminding her with each passing minute that her impending engagement grew ever closer and that her husband would not be by her side. She would have to face yet another event alone and lie about how Charles was too tired or too busy to grace them with his presence.
Elaine felt ridiculous, sat in her ballgown in her elegant home, waiting on the man whom she had vowed to love until the end of her days to return. What unsettled Elaine most was that even Faye was unaware of his current whereabouts. Whilst Charles’ assistant had her flaws, she was diligent and managed the Deputy Prime Minister’s official diary with military style precision. Wherever he was, it was a safe assumption that it was somewhere that he shouldn’t be.
Feeling desperate, Elaine called Charles’ mobile phone again and was greeted by the same voicemail message.
‘Dammit!’ Elaine angrily slammed her own telephone against the table, her hands shaking. She wanted to cry. She needed to cry but she couldn’t risk ruining the makeup she had meticulously applied only a half hour ago for she did not have time to paint on her face a second time. And Elaine wasn’t about to send her apologies to the benefit. Image was everything in the world of politics; the minute you stopped attending to your duties, the vultures who permanently circled around you would immediately swoop in and pick at your carcass until there was nothing left. Elaine wasn’t about to let the empire she and Charles had worked so hard to build begin to crumble. As with most of her decisions, Elaine would attend the benefit for Charles, for their legacy.
A car pulled up outside, ready to take Elaine over to the venue for the evening. She raised herself up and gave a curious glance out of the window. Even though Elaine was no connoisseur when it came to vehicles, she knew that it was not the Bentley. She wished she had taken the time to become better acquainted with Henry, so that he could now be used as an ally, but
she had always found the man crass and so had kept her distance from him.
Even though it was pointless, Elaine dialled her husband one last time, only to be greeted by his voicemail. This time there was no anger on Elaine’s part, only acceptance. She left the dining room and entered the hallway, where she put on her Burberry trench coat and grabbed her clutch bag. Before leaving, she stopped and regarded herself in the mirror.
By any standards, Elaine was a beautiful woman, but her looks had inevitably faded with age. But more than that, it was as though the light which had once flickered within her had gone out. The young, hopeful girl Charles had met at university was long gone, replaced by a woman withered by bitterness. Elaine scowled at the memory of who she had once been, and tried to push her worries about Charles to the back of her mind.
‘We are women, and as such, it is our lot in life that when things are bad, we put on our rouge, our high heels and step out into the world as though we don’t have a care in the world,’ Elaine’s mother had instructed her many years ago, and the old woman had been right. No matter what inner turmoil Elaine was feeling, it was her duty to Charles to maintain an image of calm perfection. She would attend the benefit and everyone would comment on how well she presented herself, how demure she was, and the Lloyd legacy would endure.
Elaine, nestled within the back of the car, was almost at the venue when her mobile phone suddenly whirred to life. Intrigued, she picked it up to see a message had come through from Charles.
Darling, I’m so so sorry but simply can’t make the benefit tonight. Work is so horrifically busy I just can’t get away. I know you will look wonderful and do great – just like you always do x
Normally, the heavy layering of compliments would appease Elaine and erase whatever wrongdoing Charles had previously done. She would smile and blush girlishly and chastise herself for being foolish enough to have been angry at her husband. But not this time. Elaine was not prepared to turn the other cheek yet again. Charles had angered her and no amount of flowers and diamonds could amend the damage he had done.
Chapter Ten
Forever means never letting go
‘Are you certain you won’t return to London with me?’ Charles asked Laurie, who rolled her eyes in boredom.
‘Honestly, I’m fine now. That little blip at the crash site was just that, a little blip, and I’m grateful that you were there for me but I’m okay. I just want to spend a few more days at home.’
‘But I’m worried about you.’ To vocalise his concerns was akin to admitting how deeply he cared for Laurie but that didn’t trouble Charles. He had grown close to her at the crash site, but as suddenly as Laurie had let him in, her walls had been hauled back up again and now she was treating him with cold indifference. He was determined to tear down those walls once more. Having achieved it once had raised his hopes.
‘Really, it’s fine,’ Laurie repeated stubbornly, her arms folded across her chest and an angry scowl on her face. She was annoyed with herself, but this internal conflict was manifesting itself in her behaviour towards the Deputy Prime Minister. She had let him comfort her at a time when she was vulnerable, which she now regretted. She needed to keep her distance from Charles in order to fully understand what happened to her sister.
‘I don’t like leaving you here alone.’
‘I’m not alone!’ Laurie snapped angrily. ‘I have my family.’
‘Your family don’t understand you – you said that yourself!’ Charles retaliated, his cheeks flushing as he grew impassioned. To anyone observing their exchange of cross words, it would appear that it was a lovers’ quarrel, not a disagreement between a boss and one of his interns.
‘You know nothing about my family!’ Laurie was seething as she spoke. ‘You know nothing about me or Lorna so stop pretending like you do!’
Charles was genuinely hurt by this last comment. The accusation that he had never truly known the woman he loved left him reeling.
Laurie wasn’t accustomed to inflicting pain on others via her words and so when Charles became subdued she was unsure what to do. She went to touch him, but then hesitated, her arm left indecisively in mid air.
‘I’m … I’m sorry,’ she attempted to apologise, fearful that she had said too much and that her words had penetrated deeper than the skin.
‘You’re right,’ Charles looked up at Laurie, his eyes glistening from the threat of tears. ‘I never knew Lorna, not properly, and I regret not knowing her.’
‘It’s okay,’ Laurie shifted uncomfortably. It felt surreal to see a grown man on the precipice of crying and she didn’t want to provoke him any further. She had already clearly said enough.
‘I want to know you.’ It was a bold statement to make, but Charles felt consumed by the moment which had almost occurred before his phone had shattered the atmosphere. He couldn’t help but wonder what had almost transpired between them, and he was determined to find out. His heart had already begun the insane drumbeat of irregularity usually reserved for teenagers in love.
‘I can’t be her. I can’t be Lorna for you.’ Laurie spoke softly, as in her mind she had a sudden flash of a memory where she and Lorna were sat watching a movie with their grandfather one Sunday afternoon. It was an old one and neither of the twins enjoyed it all that much. It was an Alfred Hitchcock film, which their grandfather insisted was ‘wonderful’ and that the girls ‘just had to see it’. In it, the main character lost the woman he loved, and then he met another woman and started dating her but made her dress exactly like the first woman he had loved in an attempt to replicate her. At the time, the twins had struggled to interpret the movie as they were barely in double digits. Lorna had turned to their grandfather with a puzzled expression.
‘Why was the woman so sad to have been made to look like the dead woman?’ she had asked earnestly. ‘I don’t understand. I mean, there is two of me, I have Laurie.’
It was a flippant comment shrouded within the naivety of youth, but even a young Laurie knew to be alerted by it. Looking back, she knew it had troubled her but failed to understand the reason why. Now, without her twin’s influence she realised how Lorna had always been the dominant twin, and Laurie had spent most of her years trying to forge a life for herself beyond her sister’s shadow.
Laurie felt incredibly foolish to have chased Lorna’s dreams down to London, and to have masqueraded as her there, leading a life which was not hers. She had tried to convince herself that it was all in aid of uncovering the truth about Lorna’s death, but really, was Laurie just hiding? Was it easier to conceal herself within the identity of her twin than to deal with her loss?
‘I don’t want you to be Lorna,’ Charles said softly, reaching forward and running the tips of his fingers down Laurie’s cheeks. ‘I want to get to know you.’
For a moment they stood and regarded one another, their chests rising and falling as their breath quickened in excited anticipation. Then Laurie looked away, breaking the spell, and Charles let his hand fall back to his side.
‘I’ll be back in London on Monday,’ she said coldly, physically retreating from the Deputy Prime Minister. ‘Until then, I need to be with my family.’
Rather than being hurt by this, Charles felt buoyed. There was something between himself and Laurie, he sensed it, and it was only a matter of time before he would be able to cultivate it further.
After agreeing to leave Laurie in Kent, Charles returned to the Bentley and to the responsibilities he had neglected back in the capital. He yearned to remain there with her, to linger in her world, but he could not ignore his own duties.
As the Bentley whipped through various country lanes, Charles tried to navigate his way through the flurry of emails and messages which were awaiting him via his mobile phone. He was halfway through typing a response to an urgent query when an incoming call from an unknown number flashed on his screen.
Normally, Charles would ignore such a call, but he sensed that it might be important and so answered.
> ‘I found something,’ the caller stated simply. Charles instantly recognised the voice as it belonged to his contact abroad.
‘So the cake did taste off?’ Charles asked, lowering his voice an octave to prevent Henry from listening;even though he trusted his driver implicitly, he wasn’t prepared to take any chances.
‘Yes, very. So I had a little look, made some calls, to see if I could discover the problem.’
‘And?’
‘And there were some ingredients missing.’
‘Oh?’
‘But there is no recipe; there is just the cake, as though someone misplaced the recipe, which would explain why it tastes so bad.’ The contact’s voice was low and steady, ensuring that Charles absorbed every word.
‘Well, thank you for looking into that, I’ll make sure to compensate you for the cake.’
Charles hung up and smiled. He smiled, not because he had uncovered a hole in Lorna’s case, but because he now had an excuse to call Laurie back to London earlier than she had intended. His fingers still tingled from where they had stroked her soft cheek.
Then, perhaps out of guilt, Charles called Elaine. When she didn’t answer he assumed it was because she was already at the gala which he was currently missing. He anticipated that his absence would be met with some negativity and so he quickly ordered a bouquet of flowers online to be delivered the following day. When he was on the final page of the order, he contemplated ordering a second bouquet and having it sent to Laurie, anonymously of course. It was a gesture which Lorna would have adored but Charles felt uncertain how Laurie would perceive it. He really didn’t know Laurie very well at all, but he vowed to get to know her. Everything about her intrigued him.
‘Shall I take you straight home, sir?’ Henry asked from the front seat, aware of the late hour and the failing light.
Charles pondered for a moment before responding.
‘No, it’s late, I’ll just go and check in at a hotel rather than risk disturbing Elaine.’
