by Tara Bond
“Nina’s home.” My mother cut the speaker off before I could make out what he was saying. “I’d better go, but I’ll talk to you later.”
As she put the phone down, I walked over to the fruit bowl and selected an apple.
“Who was that?” I bit into the firm skin of the Granny Smith and chewed the bitter fruit slowly, waiting for her response.
“It was my counsellor from the rehab centre, just checking in.”
I stared at her for a long moment. Her counsellor was female, and the voice on the other end had definitely been male. So she was lying—I just had no idea why.
I thought about questioning her, but decided against it. If she wanted to keep her secrets, that was down to her.
“And everything’s all right?” I said, playing along.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
I didn’t honestly know, but somehow I suspected there was more to this than I was aware of.
I forced a smile. “No reason.” I waited a beat. “I’m going to get changed.”
I walked out of the kitchen still eating my apple, as though it was the most important thing in the world to me. But inside my mind was racing. I would let the lie go this one time, but the exchange had left me feeling uneasy.
* * *
Now that April was back living with us, we began to get into a routine. She would go to school and I would go to work, and then we’d eat dinner as a family in the evening.
My mother was starting to apply for jobs, too, and seeing some old friends. Luckily she seemed to be staying away from the bad men who used to be in her life. One night, one of them called, and I was proud of her when she told him that she wouldn’t see him and that he was not to contact her again. At least she was trying to act sensibly this time.
Because I was trying to bond with my family, I didn’t have much time to see Alex. April seemed to be in a clingy mood, and she wanted to be with my mother and me, as though she was worried that our domestic bliss wouldn’t last. I was concerned about her not seeing her friends, but I thought I’d leave it for a while before confronting her about it.
Then, one Thursday, a couple of weeks after she’d moved back in, April rushed home full of herself.
“Julie’s invited me to sleep at her place tomorrow. Is it all right if I go?”
It was perfect. Finally, I’d get a night to myself. As much as I loved my sister, I was missing being with my boyfriend.
As soon as dinner was finished, I called to tell Alex.
“I’ve got some good news.”
“Yeah?”
“April’s out at a sleepover tomorrow night, so I thought I’d come over and we could have a sleepover of our own.”
He didn’t jump at the opportunity like I’d expected. We’d hardly seen each other since April had come back, so I’d assumed he’d be dying for me to stay over.
“Of course, if you’d rather not see me, that’s fine. I’m sure I can find another young gentleman who’d jump at the chance to invite me over . . .” My tone was teasing, but deep down I was taken aback by his attitude.
“There’s no need for that.” He was trying to match his tone to mine, but I could detect something of an edge there. “What time were you thinking?”
“My shift ends at six.”
“Six . . . right . . .” He sounded a bit lost in thought. “Well, why don’t you come round for eight thirty?”
I was surprised he said that. Usually he would tell me to come straight from work, and have a shower and change at his place.
“How come so late?” I couldn’t help asking. “Are you doing something?”
He hesitated for just a split second before answering.
“Hugh asked me to go for a drink tomorrow, straight after he finishes work. I have a feeling he might be planning to pop the question . . .”
The momentary hesitation might have unnerved me, but I was too thrown by the idea that Hugh was thinking of proposing to Jas.
“God . . . wow.” I could barely contemplate the enormity of it. “I can’t wait to hear all about that! Eight thirty it is, then.”
I might not have thought anything more about our conversation. But after hearing him mention Hugh’s intentions, I felt an inexplicable urge to talk to Jas. I wasn’t going to say anything to her, of course, but I just wanted to hear her voice.
Unfortunately, she sounded busy.
“I can’t talk for long,” she said breathlessly. “We’re off to Paris tomorrow, and I’m in the middle of packing.”
Alarm bells sounded in my head. “When are you going?”
I was praying that she would say the following evening.
“First thing tomorrow, babes. So I’d better . . .” She didn’t finish the sentence, but instead made a sound like a car engine.
“Yeah, of course.” It was an effort for me to match her breezy tone, but I just about managed it. “Call me when you get back.”
* * *
After that call, I lay down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, the phone resting in my hand. A spider had made its web on the light fitting, and I watched as it struggled to make its way to the top, and then fell back down.
I watched the spider climb up and fall down again and again. Losing myself in its struggle was the only way I could stop myself from calling Alex and demanding to know why he’d lied. I hated those paranoid, clingy girls who were deeply suspicious if their boyfriends weren’t by their sides at all times. I wasn’t about to turn into one of them.
I had no reason to doubt him. It was probably just a simple mistake, and he’d got the day wrong. We’d probably laugh about it tomorrow night.
So why, despite telling myself that, did I still have a nagging sense of unease?
Luckily, before I had a chance to change my mind, April came in.
“Are you done with the phone? My minutes are all used up, and I want to call Julie to tell her that I can come tomorrow.”
“Yeah. I’m done.”
I got up from the bed and handed her my phone. It was a relief not to have it. That way I couldn’t call Alex.
“I won’t be long,” April said over her shoulder.
“Take as long as you need.”
She stopped and turned to me, her face animated. “Really? Brilliant!”
By the time she’d finished, almost forty-five minutes later, I’d managed to calm myself down and no longer felt the urge to talk to Alex.
I managed to put the matter from my mind the following day. I woke late and had to rush for work, and then I was kept busy.
I’d planned on going home to change before heading round to Alex’s flat for eight thirty. But one of the other receptionists was feeling ill, and so I agreed to stay at work a bit longer. That meant staying until the last person was out, so by the time I’d finished, there was no point going home. I knew the code for the lift, and I had clothes with me, so I could shower and change at his place instead. He was obviously going to be out—although I had no idea where—but at least I’d be there when he got back.
I wasn’t expecting anyone to be there, but as the lift doors pulled open, I found the lights were all on. It looked like Alex had left them on by mistake.
I was halfway along the hallway when I heard voices from the living room. I was about to call out a greeting, but some deep, innate instinct cautioned me not to speak up. Then I heard a woman say my name.
The voice was familiar. It took a moment to place it, simply because it was so unexpected. It was my mother, and she sounded upset. I frowned. What the hell was she doing there?
I carried on down the hallway, being careful not to make a sound so that I could hear exactly what my mother was saying.
“Don’t you think my daughter deserves to know the truth, Alex?” she said, as I reached the door. It was a little bit ajar, so I could hear every word. “Do you honestly think she’d be with you if she knew what you’d done?”
The words chilled me. What could be so terrible that everyone was sc
ared to tell me what it was? And what could it be that would make me not want to be with Alex? Part of me didn’t want to know, didn’t want my happiness disturbed. But it was all going to come out at some point. It might as well be now.
I took a deep breath, and pushed open the door. My mother was with Alex and his father. They turned to see who the intruder was—and when they saw it was me, I could see shock, then fear, cross their faces.
I looked from one to the other.
“I couldn’t help overhearing your argument,” I said. “Now, does someone want to tell me what the hell this is all about?”
Chapter 26
No one spoke for a long moment.
“Well?” I said, still standing, my hands on my hips. “Is someone going to tell me what this is all about?”
More silence, and then: “It’s about your father.”
It was Duncan Noble who spoke.
“My father?” That was the last thing I’d expected to hear. “What about him?”
I cast my eyes over the people in the room. None of them looked happy, but it was Alex who looked worst of all. He was so pale, like a corpse in the morgue in one of those crime series. Laughter bubbled up inside me at the comparison, but I swallowed it down. Part of me already sensed how inappropriate it would be.
No one seemed to be rushing to fill in the blanks.
“Seriously—is someone going to start talking? I don’t understand what my relationship with Alex has to do with my father.”
I expected Alex to answer, but he was looking so sadly at me, as though he already sensed that what was about to come out would be the end of us.
Instead, Duncan Noble spoke again. He seemed to be the only one with his emotions under control. “It’s to do with your father’s accident. The night he—”
“Died,” I filled in, and watched as everyone around the room winced.
“That night,” Duncan said, carefully avoiding the word “died.” “He didn’t swerve off the road and crash. There was another car involved.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in, but still I didn’t get it. There had never been any mention of another car before.
I frowned. “I don’t understand—”
I stopped as everyone’s eyes turned towards Alex. Suddenly it all fell into place.
“You?” I spoke the word disbelievingly. “You were driving the other car? But you were only—what—sixteen?”
He raised his eyes to meet mine, and I could see the sorrow there.
My mother stepped forward.
“Nina—” she began.
“Don’t.” I cut her off. My eyes were focused on Alex. It was him I wanted answers from. I took a step towards him. It was as though it was just the two of us in the room.
“You hadn’t even passed your driving test, had you?” The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place as I talked. Alex closed his eyes. “Let me guess—you’d been drinking that night? Wanted to impress a girl? Probably went joyriding in one of your father’s fancy cars—”
“Please, Nina—”
“What?” I demanded. I wasn’t about to let him get away with it. “Am I wrong? Because if so, do put me right.”
Finally he looked up at me. But he didn’t attempt to speak. As I’d suspected, there was nothing he could say in his defence.
I looked at my mother. Suddenly it all began to make sense. This was why she had fallen out with Duncan Noble and refused to accept any more help from him—because she’d realised it was blood money. This was the root of her drinking all those years. For the first time in a long while I felt like I understood. She’d been a victim of the Noble family conspiracy—unwillingly caught in a situation she shouldn’t have had to deal with.
I would talk this out with her later. Right now, there were more pressing matters to confront.
I turned to Duncan Noble. He’d obviously known. That’s why he’d stipulated that I shouldn’t tell my mother that we were in touch. Something else occurred to me.
“Is this why you offered me a job?”
“It is.” In fairness to him, he didn’t flinch. “I wanted to help you out in any way I could.”
“You mean you were trying to ease your guilt.”
“Perhaps.”
At least he wasn’t trying to deny anything. But there was something still bothering me. “But why did you send me to Destination? When you knew I was likely to run into Alex?”
“Because I trusted Giles and wanted him to keep an eye on you.”
“So Giles knew, too?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Anyone else? Because right now it seems like I’m the only one who was kept in the dark.”
Duncan at least had the grace to look ashamed. “No, that’s it.” He took a step towards me. “Believe me, I knew this wasn’t an ideal situation. But I didn’t know what to do. So I told Giles to keep an eye on you, and asked Alex to stay away . . .”
He trailed off, and I knew the implication. Alex hadn’t stayed away. He’d known exactly who I was, when we first spoke at Destination. What had he said? You’re the chauffeur’s daughter, right? He’d been told who I was—knew that he’d killed my father—and had still gone out of his way to get to know me.
I felt the bile rise in my throat as I turned to Alex.
“But you didn’t stay away from me, did you? Quite the opposite in fact.”
He closed his eyes, “Nina—” he began, but I cut him off.
“How could you do this? How could you let it go this far between us?” How could you let me fall in love with you? That’s what I really wanted to know. “Or was that half the thrill for you? Knowing that you’d seduced the daughter of the man you’d killed?”
He winced at that last word. I heard my mother gasp, and murmur my name, but I didn’t care.
“Well?” I demanded. “What was this—some kind of game to you?”
“Maybe it started off that way.” Alex’s voice was surprisingly calm. “I’d seen you that day in Dad’s office. I’d gone over there to meet him, and he told me exactly who you were—and warned me to stay away from you. It made me want to get to know you—just to piss him off.”
“Jesus, Alex,” his father murmured.
But Alex just ignored him. “I just planned to talk to you a few times—I knew Giles would report it back to my father. But you made it clear from the beginning how little you thought of me, so I gave up on you. Until that night when I saw you play poker. That was when I saw my way in.”
Thinking back over the events made me feel even more like I was about to throw up. I couldn’t get over how calculating Alex had been. “And you didn’t feel any qualms about using me as a pawn in your game with your father? A girl who lost her father because of you?”
“I didn’t think of it that way.” He closed his eyes, and when he opened them they were filled with pain. “All I cared about was getting my own back on my father. But then I got to know you—”
“No.” I was adamant. “I don’t want to hear it.” I wasn’t interested in justifications. All I could think about was what he’d done—how he’d killed my father and got away with it.
“Nina, I’m sorry—”
“Sorry? That doesn’t bring my father back, does it? Do you know how bad things have been for us over the years? Losing our home . . . my mother’s drinking . . . not to mention both me and April growing up without a dad. And that’s down to you.” I looked at the face of the man I’d thought I was falling in love with, and all I felt was disgust. “God, I was right about you from the beginning. You’re an irresponsible arsehole, and I was a fool ever to trust you.”
I turned and ran out. I couldn’t stand to be in that room another second.
Alex followed me, calling my name. When I wouldn’t stop, he moved in front of me, catching me by the shoulders.
“Nina, wait. We need to talk about this.”
I looked up at him. Tears coursed down my cheeks. I made no effort to stop them. Let him see what he’d done—the pain h
e’d caused.
“You want to talk?” I spat out the word. “Why—what do you want to say? That it was a long time ago? That you were a different person? That you fell in love with me and realised the error of your ways?”
He didn’t say anything. Clearly I’d already guessed how he’d planned to argue his case.
“Don’t you get it? None of that matters. You killed my dad. You destroyed my family. And then you used me to get back at your own father. Nothing you say can change that. And I never want to speak to you again. Now at least have the decency to leave me alone.”
I broke from his grasp and hurried away. This time, thankfully, he didn’t come after me. It was a good thing—because in that moment I never wanted to see him again.
* * *
When I got to the Tube station, I realised I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go. I needed to be alone, and I wanted to think, and the best way I could do that was by walking.
I set off with no particular aim and in no specific direction. But I found myself crossing London. I walked along Kensington High Street, past groups of tourists and office workers on their Friday night out.
It took me three hours, but eventually I ended up back home. My mother was already there, sitting at the kitchen table in the semi-darkness, waiting for me. I was pleased to see she had a cup of tea in front of her. It had crossed my mind that a night like this might drive her back over the edge. I was going to make some caustic comment about her managing to stay off the sauce, but I didn’t bother. It seemed churlish in the circumstances. For once, my mum and I were on the same side.
I slid into the seat opposite her.
“When did you figure it out?” I didn’t need to clarify what I was talking about. There was only one thing on our minds tonight.
“It was about six months after his accident. Everything was a blur at first. I missed him so much.” Her eyes filled with tears at the memory. “But then I started to pull myself together. Duncan Noble had always been a good employer, but there was something off about how much he was helping me. He was giving me money every month—thousands of pounds—and something didn’t feel right about it. It felt like guilt rather than responsibility.”
