Scandalous Lies: An addictive, sexy beach read

by Nigel May

  They both stared at her, their sadness almost palpable. Victoria picked up one of Lexi’s dolls and looked at the face. Innocent and cherubic, its spheroid eyes and rosebud lips gazed up at her. It reminded her of when Lexi was born, six years ago. Such a pretty girl.

  Victoria’s mind began to wander. Images soaked her mind. Of the moment she was handed her baby girl by the midwife in the delivery room, of the euphoria on Scott’s face as he kissed his wife and new babies in rapid succession, unable to comprehend his own happiness and of the joy of learning that both of her beautiful new babies were healthy and glowing with vitality. It was every parent’s dream. Nothing else compared to the moment when a family is born. Unadulterated happiness.

  So why would Victoria risk it all? Why would she let herself succumb to the pain and chance everything she had? Because she had no choice. No control. She could no longer look at Scott without feeling a river of disgust running through her body and no longer hold Leo and Lexi in her arms without wondering what they might be thinking about her. Everything around her appeared to be slipping through her fingers.

  She couldn’t even bear to look at herself in the mirror anymore. How could someone still so relatively fresh in age have become such a diseased, putrid whirlpool of self-loathing and disgust at what she saw in herself and in the minds of those around her? How had she let herself fall so far from grace?

  As images of her once beaming jubilation taunted her, the edges of Victoria’s thoughts began to darken, as if someone was holding a lighted match to them and laughing at her as the edges started to curl and blacken into tiny, irreparable flakes. The earthy crack and splutter of the burning image filled her head, the noise growing louder and more drowning as the long-distant image of her smiling teenage youth disappeared from her mind and was replaced with an image of her face as she saw it now. Grey, infected, sick. Unloved. All happiness gone.

  As the last trace of her old blithe self ebbed away in her mind, the new, rotten face that replaced it was a stranger to happiness, alien to love. Hadn’t she once been told that the definition of love was when someone else’s happiness became your own? She loved her family, idolised her children. They were her all. But they weren’t happy. How could they be with a mother like her?

  It was the sound of Lexi’s crying that forced Victoria’s thoughts back into the present. Her daughter was screaming. Confused, her brain fogged by her thoughts and the effects of her pills, Victoria just sat and stared at her daughter as she watched heavy tears flow down Lexi’s face.

  Why was she crying? Why? What was she supposed to do? Victoria’s caring, motherly instinct to cradle, love and nurture had all but erased itself. A barbed coating of helplessness seemed to wrap around her as she stared at Lexi’s misery. Leo too began to cry, distressed at seeing his sister so unhappy.

  Victoria began to rock back and forth, a momentary madness taking hold. She could hear the voices begin to gather in her mind. Whispers telling her to silence the screams. To block them out. To stop them hurting her thoughts. But she didn’t know how. Her own confusion and the constant shrieking of her children’s dismay escalated inside Victoria’s head.

  The words boomed from Victoria’s lips before she even had time to think about them. ‘Shut up. Just shut up. Shut the fuck up.’

  Lexi’s crying became louder, the look of horror on her pure features showcasing her complete lack of understanding at her mother’s reaction. Her tears endless, no words forming, all the child could do was point at her mother’s hands.

  Victoria looked down. She still held Lexi’s favourite doll, but the head and body were no longer connected. Unknowingly, Victoria must have twisted it and snapped it off as black thoughts filled her head.

  It stared up at her. Broken. Just like her family. Just like her own body. Just like her life. And Victoria wasn’t sure if any of it was capable of repair.

  Scott stood in the doorway, having finished work early for once. The broken family was complete. His face was red with rage. She had no idea how long he’d been there but his anger and disgust were clear. He raced over to his children and gathered them in his arms. He didn’t even look at Victoria, as if she were a stranger to him. He left the room, the bawling children clinging to his body. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that he returned to the playroom. Victoria was still staring down at the broken doll in her hands.

  He delivered one sentence. It was all she needed for her own tears to flow. Heavier than they had ever flowed before.

  ‘I want a divorce, we’re through …’

  Fifty-One

  Georgia could feel the burning of her lungs inside her body as she and Charlie ran off across the car park in pursuit of Mitzi.

  Her mind raced; she was ecstatic that finally she knew that her friend was alive, but equally confused by the fact that Mitzi was running away from her and Charlie. Why? Was it an admission of guilt? Georgia couldn’t even bear to contemplate the thought.

  She and Charlie watched as an obviously petrified Mitzi reached the camper van, opened the door and disappeared inside. A moment later the headlights illuminated, their signal obvious.

  ‘Do you have the car keys, Charlie? She’s going to drive off.’ Georgia was determined not to lose the opportunity to finally talk to her friend, no matter what she might learn.

  Charlie patted his jacket pocket as he ran alongside his girlfriend. ‘They’re here.’

  They changed direction, heading towards their own vehicle. By the time they had both climbed inside and turned the key in the ignition, Mitzi and the RV were already screeching their way out of the car park exit, trailing dust in the dark night air.

  Charlie drove.

  ‘We can’t lose her, Charlie. Not now, we’re too close.’

  ‘I have no intention of letting her slip away, don’t worry.’ Charlie did his best to sound as confident as possible despite the road vehicle having a good head start on them. It was already tearing down the open road heading out of Tijuana before Charlie and Georgia had even vacated the car park.

  Had this been a car chase in a film, then no doubt every other vehicle on the road would have miraculously steered its way out of Charlie and Georgia’s path, leaving them with free passage to catch up with Mitzi. But this wasn’t some Vin Diesel Fast and the Furious flick, and as a result it seemed that every car, motorbike, bus and taxi seemed to be in their way. They could still see the road vehicle in front of them but as red lights and crossings turned against them and the roads leaving the city became darker, the tail lights of Mitzi’s ride seemed to be moving further and further into the distance. It wasn’t long until they were nothing more than virtual pinpricks on the horizon.

  Neither Charlie or Georgia were giving up though, Charlie switching from lane to lane on the highway in the vain hope of saving a few seconds in order to gain on the vehicle they were chasing.

  As they left Tijuana, there seemed to be fewer cars on the road and keeping tabs on their quarry became slightly easier. The roads inclined and narrowed, venturing upwards, the landscape becoming hillier as the madness of the city disappeared behind them.

  It was clear though that the road vehicle had no intention of being caught and even though the roads were becoming narrower and more meandering, Mitzi was still keeping her foot to the floor and maintaining a good speed. Georgia had trouble keeping the vehicle in sight as it twisted from left to right as the road wound its way upwards.

  They must have been in pursuit for about twenty minutes when finally it seemed that they were gaining on the road vehicle. Maybe it was the power of their own car or the heaviness of the RV slowing it down as they snaked the road, but they were definitely gaining.

  Georgia could feel a list of questions clicking into place in her mind. There was so much she needed to say to Mitzi. The thought of finally being able to spend time with her, no matter what the circumstances, seemed somehow comforting to her. She needed answers that only Mitzi would be able to give.

  Droplets of heavy
rain started to fall onto the windscreen, unseasonal for the late summer and Charlie flicked on the windscreen wipers to push them away. The red lights of the RV in front of them blurred slightly with every pass of the blades.

  The RV could have been no more than five hundred yards in front of them when it attempted to take a severe turn to the left as the road angled sharply. The combination of the extreme weight of the van and the acuteness of the angle were a far from perfect mix and in an instant the RV began to swerve as the driver behind the wheel attempted to keep control.

  Georgia and Charlie could only watch on in horror as the RV swerved perilously across both lanes of the narrow road.

  It was mere moments before the RV skidded its way across the wet road and crashed through a barrier on one side. What was on the other side was unclear in the dark and the rain but as the red lights of the RV disappeared from view it was obvious that there was an incline.

  It was only when a terrified Georgia and Charlie stopped their own car and ran over to where the RV had vanished from view that they could actually see what had happened. The upturned road vehicle lay at the bottom of the deep drop, its wheels spinning.

  Neither Georgia nor Charlie could see clearly. Or at least they couldn’t until a ball of flames filled the air as the RV exploded.

  Heavy drops of rain fell down on Georgia as she watched the fireball, the heat and suddenness of it causing her to fall to the floor. She felt her tears mingling with the rain on her skin. Had she chased her best friend to her own death? The thought horrified her. As Charlie placed his arms around her and pulled her close she felt the rain soaking her hair and her face, washing away any final hopes she’d had of seeing Mitzi alive and finally gaining some answers to her questions.

  Fifty-Two

  The smell of hot dogs and fried onions wafted in the air. A backdrop of spinning lights and flashing bulbs lit up the sky as dusk settled itself over the theme park on the outskirts of Los Angeles.

  Screams resonated from every direction. Those of thrill-seeking daredevils riding the array of rides spread across the park, their terror and delight merging into one big ball of adrenaline as they shot into the air, spun round at breakneck pace and plummeted into hidden tunnels. But tonight the screams of the people enjoying their rides were drowned out by those gathered to try and catch a glimpse of their TV hero in the big, bold, beautiful, buxom flesh.

  Nova Chevalier was filming at the park. The story for Super Nova was that she and a group of her girlfriends wanted to spend some fun time together on a day out to ‘chillax after another hard round of press launches, media bashes and the day-to-day grind of just having to look downright fabulous in LA’. She and her socialite friends were hardly industrious compared to the millions of real working Angelinos but the TV viewers would doubtless lap up the chance to see Nova and her pals with wet backsides from the log flume and hair out of place as they clung on for dear life to each other on a rollercoaster.

  Not that there was any chance of a hair out of place for long with a team of hairdressers and make-up artists following Nova and her two ‘besties’ – an actress from US glam-soap Peregrine Palace and one of the panelists from The View – as they tiptoed from ride to ride on completely inappropriate skyscraper high heels.

  It would be must-see car-crash TV. The type for which Champagne Super Nova had become famed.

  Sitting in her make-up chair and sipping a flat Diet Coca-Cola, Nova had one more ride to experience before the end of the filming. A fact that she was hugely glad about. The day’s filming in the park had literally turned her stomach upside down, making her feel like she was bouncing off the ceiling, hence the need for flat coke to quell her nausea, but at least it had taken her mind off the middle-of the-night phone call she’d received from Charlie in Tijuana informing her about Mitzi’s death.

  It was news that had already spread throughout the crew of Super Nova faster than Hollywood tittle-tattle and various news stations had started to pick up on the story. It had saddened Nova enormously and Jacob had been incredibly upset when she’d told him the news. As had Addison, evidently full of compassion for her new friend, Georgia.

  Addison and Sarah were standing alongside Nova now, Addison with production clipboard in hand, Sarah looking bored, as the make-up artist brushed on another final layer of Laura Mercier’s Secret Finishing Powder onto Nova’s already flawless skin.

  ‘So when are Georgia and Charlie back from Tijuana?’ Addison asked.

  ‘They’re on their way back now. They had to explain to the police about what they were doing in Tijuana and why they were chasing after poor Mitzi, but it seems the authorities have just said she lost control of the vehicle and careered to her death. I guess we’ll never know why she killed that Foster chap now.’

  Addison and Sarah were both visibly shocked at Nova’s words. ‘So you really think she killed her boyfriend?’ said Sarah.

  ‘Well until somebody tells me otherwise I really don’t know what to think. She ran away to Mexico for some reason and as far as I can see, fleeing the scene of the crime to escape capture is probably the most likely explanation, don’t you agree? It’s all completely awful but can you think of any other explanation? The police seem to be happy with that theory according to Charlie.’

  Neither Sarah nor Addison replied at first, lost in their own thoughts. It was only after a gap of about fifteen seconds that Addison finally murmured, ‘Yes, no other explanation I suppose,’ before losing herself in contemplation again as she considered the fragility of life.

  It was Nova who broke the silence, this time speaking to the make-up artist.

  ‘Now, could you reapply my lipstick, shape up these brows a little and I’m thinking I might like my hair given a touch more bouffe if you don’t mind. It’s been dreadfully flat since that godforsaken trip on that water ride earlier. Chop chop.’

  Addison checked her watch. ‘We are behind schedule, Nova. You should have been on the ride forty minutes ago and the park actually closes in an hour. Unless you want to come back tomorrow to film again of course. But Jacob did say that this had to be a one day shoot due to location costs.’

  Nova wasn’t swayed. There were times when only playing the diva would do in Hollywood and now and again Nova enjoyed playing it, just for the sheer wicked enjoyment of it all. She was as savvy as any industry player. She had learnt from the best in Jacob. Even though the cameras were off, she was still the star.

  ‘My adoring husband would not mind us coming back tomorrow if need be, ladies. When you are married to me then there is no question about cutting corners on cost.’ She turned to the make-up artist as Addison looked at her watch yet again, sent Sarah off to phone Jacob to inform him of Nova’s decision and frowned with worry.

  ‘Now, let’s start with the brows, shall we? A little shaping would be good. I need to outshine those two bitches I’m filming with today.’ She was only half-jesting, enjoying her ‘role’. ‘And as for being late, Addison, well, my darling Jacob would also tell you that it’s better to arrive late than to arrive ugly no matter what you’re doing. Even if it’s being thrown around on a sodding fairground ride.’

  Fifty-Three

  The bedroom floor at Jack Christie’s house was never a clean one. Between the pile of wank magazines in the corner, the dirty mugs quarter-filled with stone cold coffee and a varied selection of butt-filled ashtrays dotted across the carpet, his bedroom floor was student-worthy in its messiness.

  Not that Jack cared, as the woman in his bed was far tidier than his bedroom floor would ever be. In all senses of the word.

  It felt good to have Chloe back in his life. Not as a girlfriend, he didn’t need that. He was a lone shark, someone who thrived better without the heavy albatross of emotional attachment around his neck. And besides, from what she’d told him, she was much more into the older professional type of man these days. The bankers, not the wankers. A DILF lover. And specifically, one, in the form of the husband of the rich family she wa
s nannying for.

  But he was loving her regular visits to the flat he shared with Andy North. Because while she wanted something from him, a never ending supply of painkillers, he was able to get what he wanted, and that was getting his leg over on a regular basis too. This jackdaw was a randy bird.

  Jack had already fucked Chloe once that afternoon and as he buried his face deep within the fleshy wet folds of her pussy he was ready for round two, his cock stiff and the veins within it throbbing with lust.

  Jack adored going down on a woman. There was something so deeply satisfying about it. In some ways he preferred it to getting his end away. Once you’d shot your load, the euphoric sensation of climax quickly ebbed away but even hours after lapping at a wet, willing pussy Jack adored the fact that the taste of his lover’s stimulation was still ripe on his lips.

  Chloe lay underneath him, her legs spread wide as he feasted on the succulent layers of her sex. She gave a slight moan as he found her clitoris and nibbled against it, the rough texture of his day-old stubble and the biting of his teeth causing her to thrash her hips upwards allowing him even deeper access into her pussy. He pushed back the outer lips and marveled at the glowing pinkness of the flesh hidden inside. It was warm and inviting. Jack extended his tongue as far as it would go and dipped it into her sexual darkness, moving it as fast as he could, causing Chloe to moan with excitement again. Her breathing became harder and faster. This was erogenous nirvana.

  Jack was still flicking his tongue across the top of Chloe’s clitoris when the bedroom door opened. The action made Chloe jump and she attempted to grab the bed sheet to cover herself. Jack looked up from between her legs to see Andy standing at the door.