by Susan Lewis
Overcome with confusion Corrie tried to turn away from him, but he held her there. ‘You don’t know me,’ she said feebly, ‘you don’t know anything about me.’
‘I know that I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman. I know that I need you too.’
‘How can you say that when …’
‘I can say it, Corrie, because it’s true,’ and to her amazement there was such sincerity in his eyes that she almost believed him.
‘But Annalise … You tell her you love her, she believes you love her …’
He looked away for a moment, but not before Corrie had seen a raw pain pass across his face.
‘Corrie,’ he said, almost in a whisper, ‘Annalise is like an addiction with me. I don’t know if what I feel for her is love, all I know is that there are times when she means more to me than life itself, and other times when I feel so stifled by her that it’s as though I’m losing my mind. Our relationship isn’t healthy, and it frightens me … I need to get away from her, Corrie. That’s why I’m so cruel to her. I try to drive her away, but it only seems to make her want me all the more. And God help me, I don’t seem able to resist her. I need you to help me, Corrie.’
‘But I can’t do that, Luke. I’m just not …’
‘But you can, Corrie, because what I feel for you makes me feel so good, so … I don’t know, I can’t explain it, other than to say that it just feels right. Wholesome, I suppose. Whereas, what I feel for Annalise … Well, I can’t explain that either …’ He smiled, sadly, and seemed to withdraw into himself. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I’m confusing you. I don’t mean to. If you like we can forget everything I’ve said. There’s no reason in the world why you should share my feelings, it was presumptuous of me to think that you might. So, shall we talk about Watkins?’
Corrie looked at him, aware of a rising compassion for him that was making her want to understand what was going on in his heart, what was making him seem almost as lost and lonely as Annalise. But she knew she was in danger of saying or doing something she might regret later, so she said, as gently as she could, ‘I think we’d better.’
He nodded. ‘OK. Well, I’ve decided that I don’t want TW becoming embroiled in a law suit, which it almost inevitably would if we revealed Watkins’ hypocrisy, so I’m going to pass the scoop on to someone in Fleet Street.’
Corrie was stunned. ‘I don’t believe it! You’re seriously going to let this go?’
He smiled at her surprise. ‘Not exactly. I’ll be asking the newspaper to run the story the morning after our transmission. They’re sure to agree, since the story doesn’t mean much without his denigration of brothels and prostitution.’
‘Well if we’re going to handle it that way, then surely it would be better to get the paper to run the story the morning of transmission. We can give them quotes from the programme, making sure that they credit us, naturally, and that way it should help pull in even more viewers.’
Luke was watching her, and shaking his head. ‘You really are starting to become quite invaluable,’ he smiled. ‘And don’t think I’m blind to the fact that you’ve been running this show. Annalise has been in no fit state, I’m more than aware of that, just as I’m all too aware that it’s my fault. I only wish I could make it up to you, Corrie, and give you the recognition you deserve for all you’ve done. But politically I’m afraid it’s just not possible at this time. All I can offer is dinner, tonight, when we get back to London.’
‘Oh, no, you don’t have to do that,’ Corrie said. ‘I mean, it’s very kind of you, but …’
‘I’d really appreciate it if you’d accept,’ he interrupted.
‘I’m afraid I can’t,’ she said. ‘I’ve promised Annalise I won’t see you again, and if she were to find out …’
‘She won’t find out. She’s going to spend the weekend with her parents. But of course if it’s me that you object to …’
‘No, it’s not that. Please don’t think that,’ Corrie said hastily.
‘Well I’m glad to hear that,’ he smiled, and he really did look so very relieved that Corrie found herself smiling too. ‘So you will come?’ he said, cupping her chin in his hand and drawing her towards him; and despite desperately wanting to distance herself from both him and Annalise, if only for a few hours, Corrie heard herself saying she’d love to have dinner with him.
The betrayal of her promise to Annalise played on Corrie’s conscience all day after that, and it was only exacerbated by the fact that Luke had insisted on cooking dinner himself, at his apartment. The intimacy of a cosy meal at home was inescapable, and she only hoped to God that Luke didn’t take it upon himself to tell Annalise about it later.
When she finally arrived back at her studio, early that evening, after a couple of nightmarish hours filming on the Ml into London, all she wanted to do was curl up in the safety and comfort of her own home. Paula, who called almost as soon as Corrie walked through the door, told her quite vehemently that that was just what she should do.
‘You don’t owe him anything, Corrie,’ she said. ‘He’s just playing on your sympathy, and if you ask me you’ve got far too much of that for your own good.’
‘But I didn’t ask you,’ Corrie snapped back.
‘He’s manipulating you, every bit as much as he is Annalise,’ Paula went on, obviously unperturbed. ‘You’re going to have to learn when to put your foot down, Corrie. Now if you don’t want to go, just call him up and say so.’
‘I can’t! If you’d seen him, Paula … Oh God, I don’t know, I can’t explain it, but believe me, I have to go.’
‘Then I think you should ask yourself why – and try being honest with your answer.’
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means that I think you want something to come of this relationship you’re not admitting to. You still fancy him, Corrie, and don’t bother to deny it because this is me you’re talking to. You’ve got some crazy idea that you’re the one to change him, to sort out all his problems, and that’s just what he wants you to think. He’s using you, surely you can see that …’
‘Paula …’
‘No, I’m not listening. Not until I hear you admit to the truth. You want to sleep with him again, don’t you? You want to hear him tell you again how special you are. Well, I can’t blame you for that, we none of us tire of …’
‘Paula!’
‘Just admit it, Corrie! For God’s sake if you can’t be honest with yourself you’re going to end up in an even bigger mess than you’re already in.’
‘All right! All right! Part of me does want to go to bed with him again. Satisfied? He’s an attractive man, so why shouldn’t I? But it’s only physical. I’m not emotionally involved with him at all.’
‘That’s what you think,’ Paula said.
‘I’m going to ring off now,’ Corrie retorted, ‘before I get really mad at you, because quite frankly you’re getting on my nerves assuming you know better than I do what’s going on inside my head.’
At eight o’clock Corrie turned up at Luke’s apartment with the truth of all Paula had said still ringing in her ears. She was furious with herself for not being able to understand why she was still attracted to Luke, when she hadn’t even really enjoyed sleeping with him on the one occasion she had. And to make matters even more confusing she was more than a little disturbed by the things he had said about his relationship with Annalise over breakfast that morning. She just knew that she was getting herself into something that was way beyond her, but simply didn’t know how to pull back.
She rang again on the doorbell, and waited for his voice to come over the entryphone. Baffled by the silence she turned towards the square to see if she could spot his car. It was nowhere in sight, but in Knightsbridge that wasn’t unusual, it was rare that anyone could park outside their own homes. She rang the bell again, but still there was no reply and not sure whether she was relieved or offended that he had stood her up, she started back do
wn the steps.
At that very instant he drove around the corner and pulled up on the yellow line right in front of her. Though he apologized profusely for not being there when she’d arrived Corrie could see that he was agitated, barely even knew what he was saying. When they got into his flat he went instantly to his answerphone to replay his messages, and to Corrie’s amazement she heard Jack Watkins’ voice saying that he would be glad to meet Luke the following day.
Corrie didn’t ask what it was about, but her curiosity showed, and laughing, Luke said, ‘I thought it only fair that the man should be tipped off that we know about him before we inform someone in Fleet Street.’
‘But why?’ Corrie protested.
Luke shrugged. ‘I guess because it’s a pretty rotten thing having your name splashed all over the newspapers like that.’
‘Well it’s not as if he doesn’t deserve it,’ Corrie pointed out, heatedly.
‘Oh come on, give the guy a break. The damage is done now, so it makes no difference whether he finds out sooner or later. I just thought it would be fairer to give him time to prepare himself for the flak. It’s quite usual, you know, to tip off the subject of an exposé. Anyway, let me get you a drink. Name your poison.’ He crossed to the drinks cabinet, then turned to look at her. ‘By the way, you look gorgeous tonight.’
‘Thank you,’ Corrie answered, avoiding his eyes.
‘Hey,’ he said, ‘you’re not still mad at me about last night, are you? I told you, it meant nothing.’
‘Like I meant nothing the last time I was here?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘That’s what you told Annalise, wasn’t it? That I had meant nothing. And while we’re on the subject, why in God’s name did you tell her anyway?’
He sighed, and taking her by the hand led her to the sofa and sat her down. ‘I thought I’d explained that this morning,’ he said. ‘I need to get her off my back, to make her stop idolizing me the way she does …’
‘But telling her about me! Didn’t you even stop to consider what it might have done to our friendship?’
‘Your friendship with Annalise means that much to you?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact it does.’
‘More than me?’
‘That’s not what we’re talking about.’
Luke smiled. ‘I can’t say I’m sorry that you care so much for her. As a matter of fact, I’m glad. She needs a friend, badly, and I can’t see you letting her down.’
‘Except for the fact that I’m here,’ Corrie pointed out.
‘She’ll never know. At least not from me, she won’t.’
He was still holding Corrie’s hand, and as his thumb started to circle her palm Corrie could feel his magnetism starting to draw her in. She tried to look away, there was still so much more she wanted to say, to demand that he explain, but he pulled her back and covered her lips gently with his own.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, ‘but I just had to kiss you.’
Corrie was never too sure later quite how she ended up in bed with him, but she did. And something else she was never able to figure out was how he managed to persuade her to let him tie her to the bed.
She hated it. The way she was spread-eagled across the sheets wasn’t only demeaning, the feeling of helplessness it gave her was frightening. But there was no mistaking the fact that it was driving Luke crazy.
She tried to hold on, telling herself that he would come soon and it would be over. But in the end she couldn’t stand anymore. ‘Luke,’ she whispered, as he pounded away on top of her, ‘Luke, please untie me now.’
‘Just a couple more minutes,’ he gasped, his eyes fixed to the bonds on her wrists, ‘I’m nearly there.’
Corrie closed her eyes, trying to disassociate herself from her own body, then suddenly she became aware that he had stopped. She looked up at him, then smiled weakly as she saw the deep concern in his eyes.
‘You really don’t like it, do you?’ he said.
She shook her head.
‘Oh God, I’m sorry,’ he groaned. ‘You should have said sooner,’ and within seconds he had freed her.
‘I told you before,’ he said, as he cradled her in his arms, ‘I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Please, don’t ever say yes to anything just to please me, because that’s not the way I want it with us.’
Corrie buried her face in his neck. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled, ‘I didn’t want to let you down. I wanted to prove that I was as adventurous, as open-minded as you are, but I guess I’m just not.’
‘Oh Corrie,’ he said, finding her mouth and kissing her tenderly, ‘I want you just the way you are. Please believe that.’
They lay quietly together for some time, until Corrie lifted her head and looked at him.
He smiled. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked, pulling a strand of hair from her lips.
‘You didn’t come,’ she whispered.
‘No. But it doesn’t matter.’
‘It does to me,’ she said. Then swallowing hard she asked him to make love to her, using the words she knew he wanted to hear.
His erection was instant. ‘Oh, baby,’ he groaned, as he rolled onto her. And as he pushed himself inside her, he said, ‘You just don’t know what you do to me, Corrie.’
– 11 –
IT WAS EARLY one morning the following week, before anyone else arrived at the office, that Corrie was making her way down the corridor to the edit suite in order to view some police library footage for the prostitution programme. She knew already that a great deal of it would be unusable, since it contained explicit pictures of what had happened to the prostitutes from Shepherd Market who had been murdered. In fact she was not at all looking forward to viewing it herself.
With her programme file under one arm, and carrying a cup of coffee and a half-eaten pastry, she backed into the darkened edit suite, turned round and was momentarily stunned to find herself confronted by a bank of monitors all displaying horrific pictures of the mutilations the prostitutes had suffered both before and after death.
‘Oh God!’ she muttered, then glancing at her pastry she threw it into the bin.
Luke was at the controls, running the pictures through, frame by frame. Corrie wasn’t surprised to see him, since it had been at his personal request that the police had released the footage. He glanced up as she came towards him and she noticed straight away how deathly pale he was.
‘Jesus God,’ he murmured, ‘it’s enough to turn a man’s stomach. There’s not much here we can use though, I’m afraid.’
Corrie sat down next to him and watched as he continued to screen the pictures. After only a few minutes he stopped. ‘Look at it if you want to,’ he said, ‘I can’t. I’ll be in my office.’
As he stood up Corrie noticed him wince and as he turned into the light she saw a dark swelling above his eye. ‘What happened to you?’ she asked.
He grimaced. ‘If I told you it was a cupboard door would you believe me?’
Corrie shrugged.
‘Well it was.’ He laughed then. ‘If I were a woman you’d think my husband had been beating me up, wouldn’t you?’
‘Probably,’ Corrie smiled. ‘But that cut looks pretty deep, maybe you need stitches.’
‘It’ll be all right,’ he answered, and was on the point of leaving when he turned back. ‘By the way, I’ve invited a few people round to the flat for cocktails tonight. Would you like to come?’
Corrie was hesitant. She hadn’t seen him since the Friday before, when they’d spent the night together, and she was still no closer to resolving the turmoil of her feelings for him.
‘Annalise will be there too,’ he said, ‘so you don’t have to feel you’re being disloyal.’
‘Does she know you’re inviting me?’
‘Of course.’
‘Then OK, I’d love to come. Incidently, do you know where she is? She was supposed to meet me here at seven to go through this materi
al.’
‘If the telephone call I received at four this morning is anything to go by, then I think you’ll find her tucked up in bed with a hangover.’
Corrie sighed and turned back to the controls. Annalise had called her around midnight looking for Luke, so she had expected something like this.
The next hour, spent viewing the police footage, she knew would live in her mind, probably for the rest of her life. That one human being could do such terrible things to another defied belief – except she was sitting there looking right at it. Each gaping knife wound, caked in blood and slime from the river bank, stared down at her from the playback monitors like grisly smiles. On three of the bodies most of the cuts were bone deep, but the fourth was by far the worst. On this one several of the internal organs were visible. Corrie couldn’t even begin to imagine the depths of terror or pain either of them must have suffered in the minutes before they died, but it was there, even in death, frozen in their bulging eyes.
Detective Inspector Radcliffe who was leading the murder hunt, had told Corrie the day before, after they’d interviewed him, that he was only too aware that the prostitutes didn’t believe the police were doing all they could.
‘But I can assure you we are,’ he’d said. ‘And somehow we’re going to nail that bastard, because no one on God’s earth deserves to die like that.’
‘Do you have any leads at all?’ she had asked. Felicity had asked the same question on camera, so Corrie more or less knew what his answer would be.
‘Not enough,’ he said. ‘All these women seem to have in common, aside from their profession, is blonde hair. We don’t even know yet where the murders were carried out. If we did … Well, let’s hope your programme will persuade someone to come forward.’
What was distressing Corrie most of all now, as she forced herself to look at the passing images which, in any sane world, should only have come from a slaughterhouse, was the way in which she was identifying with the victims. She had known, albeit for a short time, what it was to be tied up, to feel so helpless and afraid. The difference was of course, that she had been with Luke, who had been so sensitive to her fear that he had released her immediately. That hadn’t been the case for these women, and it made her want to weep for the unfairness of it, when all they had set out to do was help a man release his pent up sexual desires.
