Shadows to Ashes

by Tori de Clare

  Her head felt heavy with tension. ‘You have to remember that Nathan was unhinged.’

  ‘I am remembering that.’

  ‘So Dan was worried about me.’

  ‘He certainly was. Absolutely agreed.’ His tone dropped. ‘How worried, is the real question. Worried enough to compromise those brakes to the point of failure? Worried enough to want to give Nathan a shock, a warning? Or was he worried enough to want Nathan out of the way for good?’

  Naomi opened her eyes and took one look at him leaning across the table with his vile accusations. She lost control and shouted in his face. ‘I’m telling you, he didn’t do it.’

  …. Five months later.

  7

  Charlotte Solomon aka Charlie, checked her watch. It was just after eleven in the morning. She did a quick time-conversion in her head and reckoned it was about ten p.m. in Sydney, Australia. Images of the Opera House flooded her mind which distracted her enough to decide that it was time to save the work she’d done and shut her laptop down. Her concentration was fraying at the edges, her mind hopelessly playing with other ideas.

  For three hours, she’d been doing Vincent’s accounts for Rhapsody, the Manchester nightclub he owned. Vincent trusted only her to do it and he’d trained her for the job. It had been several years since he’d enrolled her on a course to do an ACCA level 4 Diploma in accountancy without asking her permission. Her protests were wasted on him. Two years of night classes followed and having narrowly avoided death by boredom, she ended up top of the class.

  Vincent didn’t need an accountant at the time. He’d had a very good one. But there was accountancy work that Charlie and Vincent did that she’d never learned at college. There was a job to be done before the accounts were ever put into the hands of Vincent’s capable accountant. Before he died, that is. She brought his name to mind: Simon Wilde. Only young too, poor chap. Since his death, Vincent had replaced him with a not-so-capable accountant that he’d chosen very carefully. He’d arrived at the conclusion that capable accountants could be . . . well, too capable really.

  Accountancy was the detestable kind of work that Charlie tried to avoid. It didn’t suit her to be sitting for hours pouring over figures and spreadsheets. She preferred physical activity. Any sort. She wasn’t going to resist the pull of Lycra any longer. She was desperate to punish her muscles until she got a rush of endorphins. She wanted to test her heart until it knocked loud and insistent against her ribcage. She wanted to squat with an iron bar across her back edged with weights, and then to push herself hard on the treadmill. That’s when she felt resuscitated, alive. These numbers were killing her while the gym was calling to her, as it often did.

  But first . . .

  She pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked up her most used number and pressed call, and within three rings:

  ‘Charlie. Long time, no speak.’

  Charlie laughed. It had only been twelve hours since she’d last called. ‘How’s it going, Vincent?’

  ‘Sydney’s stunning this time of year. The UK is drowning in mist and rain and we’re basking in perfect sunshine. I’m just watching the sunset with Lorie. Wish you were here?’

  ‘Definitely. But I must have missed your invitation.’

  ‘Probably got lost in the post.’

  Charlie smiled into her phone. ‘When are you coming home?’

  ‘Soon now.’

  ‘Hallelujah. How soon’s soon?’

  ‘As soon as Dan Stone is banged up in prison, which shouldn’t be long. How’s the trial going, anyway?’

  ‘As expected. Textbook. Rumour has it that Naomi will be testifying for the defence.’

  ‘Well, of course. Did you think I’d be surprised?’

  ‘She’s crazy. The prosecution lawyers will tear her apart.’

  ‘She was always going to testify.’ Vincent sighed theatrically at the other end of the phone, a sigh that miraculously travelled 10,000 miles in a heartbeat. ‘That's my girl. Never one to lie down. Outraged at injustice. Fiercely loyal. Passionate about doing the right thing.’

  ‘She’s passionate about Dan Stone, Vincent. That’s the only reason she’s putting her neck on the line.’ Charlie smirked, glad that Vincent wasn’t there to see it. She knew how to press his buttons, and from this far away, why not? ‘She’d do anything for him.’

  ‘I’m just watching a swollen sun dipping a lazy toe into the horizon, Charlie. I’m convinced it will go all the way. You wouldn’t believe the myriad of colours in the sky and on the water.’ She could hear him breathing now. ‘In other words, I’m enjoying a exquisite moment. I’m not taking the bait.’

  Charlie bit her bottom lip, but her smile wouldn’t leave. ‘Whatever you sa –’

  ‘Who do you think Naomi’s thinking about right now, right this minute?’

  ‘My talents don’t stretch to telepathy.’

  ‘Use your brain. You have a lot to learn, but I’d like to think that the years of training haven’t been wasted.’

  ‘Training? What am I, a Jedi?’ Charlie chuckled to herself and paused to glance at her fingernails. They really needed painting. She’d have to book a paint and polish, and soon. ‘I thought you weren’t taking the bait.’

  ‘You managed to pull me in. Congratulations. You’re hoping to ensure that my mood sinks as rapidly as the sun and I’ll have to disappoint you.’

  ‘I’m hoping to lure you home.’

  A short pause, then Vincent lowered his tone. ‘The answer you’re looking for is me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Naomi,’ he said slowly, quietly. ‘She’s thinking about me. Her thoughts will be consumed by me at this point in time. I guarantee it.’

  Poor Vincent. He had it bad. It must be killing him to stay away from her. He’d removed himself to the far corner of the world to achieve it. She decided to throw him a nugget, just for entertainment. ‘Well, she has been to the club again. She banged on the office door demanding to see you. She was furious. The message was, as I heard it, that she’s out of time and patience.’

  ‘What did I tell you? She’s as desperate to see me as I am to see her.’

  ‘Mmm. Slightly different motives, if you don’t mind me saying. Face it, Vincent, she hates you.’

  ‘Exciting, isn’t it?’ he said.

  Charlie shook her head. ‘What are you on?’

  ‘Hate is a powerful emotion.’

  ‘Turns people to the dark side? Jedi talk again.’

  ‘Don’t be absurd. Naomi has strong feelings for me. Every emotion has a polar opposite and there’s sometimes a really fine line between the two – intense pleasure and pain, for example. And of course opposites attract.’

  ‘She isn’t attracted to you at all.’

  His tone remained irritatingly calm. ‘You said your talents didn’t stretch to telepathy. So how would you know?’

  Charlie laughed. ‘Wild guess. As I see it, you have everything stacked against you. She isn’t even impressed by money.’

  ‘Neither am I. The world is full of wealthy imbeciles.’

  ‘And she isn’t attracted to power.’

  ‘She isn’t attracted to weakness.’ Vincent cleared his throat. ‘She really likes my shoes, Charlie. I mean really likes them.’

  ‘Oh stop it.’

  ‘Seriously. Naomi’s sensitive and observant. She’s musically trained, after all.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So her eyes and her ears are attuned to fine detail. And she’s noticed my shoes and she likes them. She’s intrigued by me altogether. I’m a patient person. I’ve never shrunk from a challenge. I’ll work from the feet up. It’s a step, no pun intended.’

  Charlie chuckled again. The new Vincent was deluded, but it was comical. ‘So, let’s get this straight, your master plan is to get her into bed by inviting her to a shoe exhibition in your room?’

  A long pause at the other end of the phone. He’d hang up on her soon, but she’d play him as long as she could.

/>   ‘You’re incredibly crude, you know that? My master plan neither starts nor ends with my bed. That isn’t my style and is no way to treat a queen.’

  ‘Oh p-lease! She’ll be known as the Virgin Queen next, even though chances are, Dan’s already –’

  ‘She is a virgin,’ he said so quietly that Charlie barely heard.

  ‘Says who?’

  He drew breath sharply now. ‘In the words of the song, Charlie,’ he said in a more upbeat tone, “the sun has gone to bed and so must I”.’

  Charlie managed, ‘Just come home,’ before Vincent severed the call.

  ***

  Solomon looked out to sea from his position on a ragged rock on a cliff edge. He was sitting, knees to chest, on a light-weight jacket to protect his trousers from rough stones. He’d never liked the feel of jeans. Or shorts. So he didn’t possess a single pair of either.

  A metre in front of him was an unfenced fifty-foot drop to the beach, which was a semi-circular slice, a pretty cove cut inland, dusted in the purest pale sand, surrounded and guarded by an arc of rocks. It was a kind of secret place that few visitors ever discovered. And when they did, few opted to make the steep journey down to the beach. So it was dead quiet by day and quite dead by night. A little haven in the heart of Sydney. A rare and precious gem, like Naomi.

  Behind Solomon, not twenty metres away, stood the house that Lorie had been renting at his expense for some time now. It stood alone, majestic, private and secluded in its position on the clifftop, with magnificent views and floor-to-ceiling glass through which to appreciate the glory of it all. He’d selected this place for Lorie after hours of painstaking research. It had had to be special. He was asking her to leave England, leave Nathan without a goodbye, leave her mum, her flat. Her entire life. So it had had to be special.

  She was sitting beside him now, looking at his profile. He could feel her eyes on him as he watched the ocean with fascination, the water being stealthily sucked of colour. Soon it would be an indecipherable black mass, shifting, restless, dense and heavy, hoarding its secrets under a canopy of darkness. Vincent’s mind felt like this, which is why he struggled to sleep, even here. His antidote was normally work. It had been a challenge being away from the anchor of work. It had been difficult to leave his business in the hands of others. Because he didn’t trust people. Full stop. With people being weak and stupid, he had no intentions of being as stupid as them by trusting them. Sooner or later, people disappointed at best and messed up big time at worst.

  So while the climate may have suited him here, the laid-back stretched-out hours did not, with the added irritation that his Armani trousers clung tenaciously to his legs in the heat. And the sight of ‘surfer-dudes’ – the term grated – in floral shorts, empty-headed but for the hope of riding the next giant wave, twisted his gut.

  No, vacant hours gave Vincent too much time to notice his own thoughts, and the predominant one was always this: a gulf of thousands of miles separated him from what he wanted most. He looked out at the moving, dark body of water, which was better for having spat out the yelling surfers.

  Secrets, secrets.

  Lorie drew breath to speak but Solomon stretched out a forefinger to her lips. He stopped short of touching her. ‘Shhhhh.’ He eyed her for a moment and then searched the horizon again. The colours were melding. ‘Just listen.’

  Lorie impatiently lifted her knees to her chin to mirror his position, and Solomon closed his eyes and tipped his head skyward and allowed the sounds and scents of the ocean to wash over him. A benign breeze caressed his hair. During this brief snatch of tranquillity, he could almost believe he was at peace. Almost.

  The sea gurgled and churned its secrets over and over. By the time Solomon opened his eyes, the sky was midnight blue and lights were twinkling on the coastline to his left and right.

  ‘What did Charlie want?’ Lorie asked gently.

  ‘To stir her pot. She gets her kicks that way.’

  ‘You look tired,’ she observed, shuffling closer.

  ‘My head is always crammed with stuff, so sleep is elusive a lot of the time. I’m completely used to it.’

  ‘What stuff?’

  Solomon’s gaze blurred into the scenery.

  ‘Why not unburden yourself for once?’ Lorie said.

  ‘I fantasise about doing that. About guiding someone through the chambers of my mind and allowing access to all the dark and private parts. Of sharing secrets.’ He paused. ‘One day, Lorie, before I die. But not with you.’

  If Lorie was offended, she didn't say so. From Vincent’s point of view, a peaceful minute passed. ‘Vincent,’ she began, tone more insistent now, ‘when you go back to England, I want to come with you. It’s amazing here, but I don’t want to be left alone on this clifftop anymore.’

  He looked at her now, in the fading light. ‘So find yourself a housemate or get a dog. That’s what people do when they can’t bear their own company, isn’t it?’

  She shook her head. ‘Don’t do this, please.’

  ‘Don’t beg.’

  ‘I’m not begging, I’m asking. You kept me from Nathan and now Nathan’s . . . gone.’ She paused for composure, which Solomon took in with some confusion. ‘And I miss him.’

  ‘You miss a perfect loser?’

  ‘We loved each other and yes, I miss him,’ she said, more defiantly.

  ‘Oh dear. Whatever you thought you had with him, it wasn’t love. Nathan was a desperate nobody and he wasn’t thinking about you when he died. He had the time to save himself, but nothing to live for. So he tried to take Naomi down with him, and almost succeeded.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘I know.’ Vincent said with certainty before casting his gaze over the sea again. ‘For the record, he had someone else in the last few months.’

  This comment was met with silence.

  Eventually Lorie whispered, ‘No.’

  ‘You’re surprised?’

  ‘He promised he’d wait twelve months for me.’

  ‘He managed twelve weeks, then the eye candy beckoned. Too tasty to resist, it seems.’

  ‘Why should I believe you?’

  ‘Why should I lie?’

  ‘Why are you telling me this now and ruining my memories of him?’

  Solomon weaved his fingers together. ‘So that you don’t get any ideas about playing soppy songs and taking sentimental treks to graveyards in Manchester. Forget him. Stay here out of the way. There’s nothing to go back for.’

  ‘England is my home, Vincent. My mum is there and I’m her only child. Since my dad died, she’s been on her own.’

  ‘Your mother’s a liar. Forget about her too.’

  A long pause. ‘Vincent, listen, I don’t belong here. I could work for you again. Maybe –’

  ‘No. You’re out of the game, Lorie.’ He looked at her briefly, then returned to the sea. ‘I have plans in England when I get back. Life-changing plans that don’t include you anymore.’

  Lorie huffed out a frustrated breath. ‘But you owe me.’

  He twisted his neck and fixed his eyes on her now. ‘You gave me Henry Hamilton, and now I know him better than he knows himself. Every day, he suffers in silence trying to hide what’s happening from his wife, while I own his cars and his possessions and have his daughters exactly where I want them.’ He waited a moment. ‘I have you to thank for that, Lorie. The patient plans are paying dividends at last. You are undoubtedly the best employee I’ve ever had.’

  ‘So –’

  ‘I haven’t finished,’ he cut in. ‘Which is why I came here in the first place, to tell you about Nathan’s death, and why I haven’t told you, until I had to, that he was a detestable cheat and not worth the sand on your shoes. That’s valuable information. It means you can live without delusional thoughts running riot in your head.’ He leaned a little closer and hushed his voice. ‘But don’t even flirt with the idea that I’m in your debt. I’ve paid you well over many years and now I’m
offering this house as a retirement package.’

  ‘Retirement? I’m twenty-seven!’

  ‘Giving a whole new meaning to early retirement. Face facts: you’ll never have a career in the UK. You’d need references and I’m not supplying. You’ve been plastered all over national newspapers and been under serious police scrutiny. No sane person would employ you now,’ he said calmly.

  ‘In other words, I’m screwed,’ she panted. She looked at him and Solomon absorbed it effortlessly. ‘Do you care about me at all?’

  ‘Do I care about you?’ he repeated slowly, borrowing time for contemplation. An odd question, but it was worthy of a little thought. ‘Hmm! Let's say in fleeting moments when you remind me of Naomi, my capacity to care about you increases very slightly.’

  ‘What?’ It came out more as an explosion of air than a word. Lorie shook her head again and again. She glanced about her wildly, refusing to look at him.

  ‘So the short answer is . . . sometimes.’

  ‘You know how I’ve always felt about you, and your best answer is sometimes? When I remind you of her?’

  ‘Of Naomi,’ he corrected. ‘Why the drama, Lorie?’ There were tears of rage in her eyes which Vincent couldn’t comprehend. ‘You’re sounding like a spoilt child. I gave you Nathan, remember.’

  ‘I even had to share Nathan with her –’

  ‘Naomi.’

  ‘Yes, Naomi!’ Her voice shook with the effort of not shouting. ‘And Naomi virtually told me that she’d slept with Nathan on the wedding night.’

  ‘I’ve told you before, she lied to hurt you.’

  ‘You reckon?’

  ‘I know.’

  Lorie brushed away the tears from her eyes and got hold of herself. ‘And then you took Nathan away. And now you’re about to swoop in on . . . Naomi –’

  ‘That must have hurt.’

  ‘What are you planning to do with her anyway? Why would she want you?’

  His face relaxed into a smile. ‘Because I’m the only person on this planet who can offer her what she most wants.’