Two Years After ; Friends Who Lie ; No More Secrets

by Paul J. Teague

  Caitlen’s immediate response was to challenge Naomi. She might have done six months ago. There was no love lost between Naomi and Terry. He thought that Rhett was emasculated by her. Only ‘emasculated’ was not a word that was in Terry’s vocabulary. He’d put it slightly more offensively than that. If you carry on like this, she’ll turn you into a Kasey! Naomi had wanted to punch his lights out at that, not only because of how he thought that Naomi was some kind of evil agent who was eroding Rhett’s inherent masculinity, but more because of his attitude to Kasey. The man was a copper. What chance did the public stand if attitudes like that were so deeply ingrained?

  There was little point arguing with Terry.

  ‘That smells like the stench of prejudice, Terry,’ she’d dared to challenge.

  He passed wind loudly and offensively.

  ‘That smells like the stench of yesterday’s dinner!’ he replied.

  And with that crass behaviour, everything stayed as it had always been. Terry would casually allude to Kasey’s sexuality in his coarse humour, the others would write it off as ‘just Terry being Terry.’

  ‘Can you keep a secret?’ Caitlen asked. ‘You mustn’t even discuss it with Rhett. Promise?’

  ‘Of course!’ Naomi replied.

  She’d hoped that they might get chatting. It’s what Rhett had suggested when the idea was first mooted that they’d have to share an apartment. He’d whispered it in her ear and she’d seen the sense in it immediately. Sharing the apartment would give her the ideal opportunity to broach the subject of money. She’d wait a day or two, then bring it up when they were alone. It was a good sign that Caitlen wanted to confide in her.

  ‘I’m thinking of leaving Terry.’

  She’d said it. It felt daring, scary and exhilarating.

  ‘Seriously?’ Naomi asked. She didn’t want to start damning Terry if there was a chance that they might stay together.

  ‘Yes. I’m serious. I think I should have done it before we came out here. I wanted to give him a chance, to see if it was just me being stupid. But he’s an idiot, isn’t he? I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to see it. But you all know that already, don’t you?’

  Naomi didn’t say anything. They all tolerated Terry. It wasn’t that they didn’t get on with him, he could be a great laugh at times. But he wore you down. He needed to be something else in the modern world and he seemed incapable of making the change.

  ‘When will you do it?’

  Caitlen noticed that Naomi wasn’t questioning her decision. It looked like her sister was several steps ahead of her when it came to Terry.

  ‘If your mind is made up, you shouldn’t wait too long. It will only make things worse.’

  ‘I don’t want to screw up the holiday for everybody. But we haven’t had sex in about three months – I’m not sure I can face him slobbering all over me again. You heard what he said about the twin beds. And he wheezes when he’s been on the beer ...’

  Caitlen began to cry. She’d been holding it all in, not daring to articulate her thoughts in such detail. Her earlier chat on the bus with Harriet had been sounding things out. Now she was talking specifics, not generalities.

  Naomi hugged Caitlen. She hadn’t felt so close to her sister in a long time. Naomi almost shared her own dirty secret with her there and then, but hesitated. Not yet, she thought.

  ‘I’m going to see how easily I can outmanoeuvre him while we’re here. He’ll spend most of the holiday pissed, and if I’m lucky he’ll fall asleep before he gets any ideas. There’s always Harriet’s too, if I need a spare bed.’

  Caitlen dabbed her eyes with a tissue. She wasn’t the crying kind, but breaking up with Terry scared her. The money would complicate things.

  ‘How do you think he’ll take it?’ Naomi asked.

  ‘Badly. He must know it’s coming. We’re like strangers in the house. He must have noticed, however busy he is at work.’

  ‘There was life before Terry, you know. You’ve split up with boyfriends before. There will be a life after Terry.’

  ‘Yes, but the money is going to make things difficult. He’s going to think that’s what this is all about. I come into some money and he thinks he’s going to be able to get his hands on it. Then I tell him to sling his hook. How would you like it if you thought you were going to get some of that cash and I told you to take a hike?’

  That question was a little too close for comfort for Naomi. But Caitlen was dead right. If Terry thought he was getting a half share of all that cash, then immediately got dumped, he’d be furious. It would be like thinking you’d won that week’s lottery only to find you were looking at the numbers on an old ticket. Incredible elation followed by devastating disappointment. Naomi could imagine just how that might make Terry feel. It would be enough to drive even a sane person to murder.

  Chapter Nine

  Terry and Emmy: May

  ‘It’s one heck of a lot of cash, even if it is Monopoly money,’ Terry said, sitting up in the bed and revealing a chest that was dense with thick black hair. For Terry, the idea of waxing or even grooming was something that only youngsters did. A hairy chest had worked for Sean Connery and it had also worked for Terry all of his life.

  ‘Still, if I could get my hands on my half, we’d be well away.’

  ‘Has she said anything yet?’ Emmy asked. ‘When will it hit your joint account?’

  Emmy looked like she’d just had the night that she’d just had. Her long blonde hair was matted and messy, the remnants of her make-up smudged.

  ‘You look like one of those paintings from that artist guy ... what’s his name ... Picasso. Everything is there, but it’s not quite in the right place.’

  Emmy didn’t mind Terry’s humour. In fact, she loved Terry. The only person blocking them from being a couple was Caitlen. They were going to tell her and Porter after the dinner party, but Caitlen had messed it up by mentioning the money. And now they had to park their plan for a little while longer, so that they could figure out what to do.

  Terry’s mobile phone beeped at the side of the bed. He quickly read the message.

  ‘It’s Cait wondering how the surveillance went. Better not tell her that it was highly satisfactory, eh? And that I got to see way more than I bargained for?’

  Emmy blushed a little, but only for a moment. She hadn’t done that with a man before, it seemed daring and a bit kinky. But she’d enjoyed it. With Terry. The thought of she and Porter ever pushing the boat out and trying something exotic in bed was unthinkable. It was like having sex with a comatose man. It always felt like he was putting himself through an endurance event and one in which he was not doing very well. Terry was fun, in bed and out of it. They shared the same coarse humour. She didn’t know how she’d ended up with Porter, he was an idiot.

  ‘Does she really not suspect you, Terry?’ Emmy asked, checking the time on her phone. ‘She’s not stupid, she must at least have an inkling of what’s going on.’

  ‘I think she’s just pleased if I leave her alone when I come home. If I come on to her, she pushes me away. So I try it on more and more, because while she’s saying no to me, it diverts her from what we’re doing.’

  ‘I feel like a shit doing this, Terry, but it’s only a matter of time. She must feel the break-up coming. I just worry what will happen to the group when everybody finds out. They’ll have to take sides.’

  ‘I don’t think it’ll be like that, Ems. I think she’ll be pleased to get rid of me, especially with this bitcoin thing or whatever it’s called. We just need to hang on a bit longer to get our share.’

  ‘Just think, I’ll be shot of Porter, you’ll get rid of Caitlen and we’ll have cash in the bank. We should take a year out, you know. We’ll both be able to get sabbaticals from work.’

  ‘Yeah, I love that idea. My sexy Emmy all to myself and no crooks and criminals to chase for a whole year. We can spend the days sleeping in, shagging and going to the pub. Sounds like journalist and police heaven t
o me.’

  ‘Have you got your hands on any of the money yet?’

  ‘Only a small amount. She keeps going on about how it’s not like proper money and you can’t just get it out of a cash till. She’s moved some over into the joint account, but I think she’s got lots stashed in her own account. She’s keeping it deliberately quiet, the silly cow.’

  ‘We need to make some progress when we’re in Benidorm. I’ll talk to the others, see if I can get them to reveal their passwords. I’m a journalist, I’m good at this stuff. You’re a copper, you should be good at it too. Don’t you know anybody who could hack into her computer? There must be some bad lad you know?’

  ‘Jesus Emmy, I want to get my hands on the cash, but I’m not doing that. I’d go to prison and there’s a lot of hard bastards in there who could make my life a misery.’

  ‘Well, you need to lean on Cait and see what her plans are. If push comes to shove, you should tell her that if she gives you a cut of it, you’ll piss off and leave her to her new fortune. That’s if she wants rid of you. Offer to make it easy for her. A clean break for, what, 100k? That should do it. We’ll be set up with that amount of cash – once Porter fucks off, that is.’

  ‘Do you think he suspects what’s going on?’

  ‘Porter? The man’s barely alive, I don’t think he notices anything.’

  ‘Why on earth did you two get together?’

  ‘Why does anyone get together? Why did you and Cait become a couple?’

  ‘I’m serious. Me and Cait got along fine for a while. It’s only since we hooked up that I’ve seen her faults. We were never marriage and kids material, although I think she once thought we might be. But she realised a year or two in, I think. How about you?’

  ‘What? Kids? I’m not really interested. Porter is, but he’s ten years older than me. I’ve got my career on the paper, it’s exciting, I like to be in the thick of things. Porter’s just ... dull. When we met, I thought he was distinguished and intelligent. I was stupid enough to marry him before I realised he was just a boring little shit.’

  Emmy’s phone vibrated.

  ‘That’s the office. There’s a full staff meeting at ten – are we going out for breakfast?’

  Terry leaned over to pick up his phone. His back was as densely populated with hair as his chest was. When the body hair was being handed out, Terry got three times the regular allotment. Emmy liked that, a man who looked like a man. Porter had started to shave his pubes because he thought it would reinvigorate their love life. Every time Emmy saw his junk, she thought he looked like a freshly plucked chicken. Or a chick to describe it more accurately. She found the shaved look a real turn-off. It was good to spend the night with a simple guy like Terry.

  He texted Caitlen to put her off the scent.

  We got them good and proper. Video evidence of them handing over the drugs. Well worth an all-nighter. See you later, T.

  He thought about adding a kiss before sending the text. He decided to add two, he wanted her to feel like he was going to be difficult to get rid of. What a dance it was, both of them wanting the relationship to end but neither of them confronting the issue until it was the right time and place for them. Emmy and Porter were the same. Terry was not a deep-thinking man, but he did sometimes wonder how many relationships were based on complete bullshit. They were all going through the motions until the point at which somebody finally decided to call time on it. In the meantime, they supported the lie.

  ‘Breakfast would be good. There are a couple of places along this road, I think. I can’t face the breakfast here, it’s continental crap. I might just as well eat the Bible in that drawer for all the taste those bloody croissants have.’

  Emmy got out of bed. She was still naked, they both were. Terry imagined a life with this woman by his side. Just looking at her walking across the room made him hot. She was his kind of woman: straightforward, funny and really dirty in bed. It was a dream come true. He’d never been with a woman like that before. As a journalist, she knew his world, too. That’s how they’d met, both working a job. Only he was trying to find out who’d left the body and she was trying to report on it. They’d hit it off immediately. And now Caitlen and Porter were getting in the way of a good thing.

  Terry resisted the temptation to encourage Emmy back into bed. She’d need to shower – after what they’d been up to, she wouldn’t want to go into the office without cleaning up first. Besides, in Benidorm it would be hard – probably impossible – to get any time alone together. They needed to chat and make a plan. Benidorm was going to be their moment. He was going to end it after the visit to Spain, but he was determined not to leave empty-handed.

  By the time Emmy had showered, dressed and put on her make-up, Terry was also cleaned up and ready to go. They checked out of the hotel and began to walk up the street, looking in the windows of the cafés that were open and deciding what they wanted to eat for breakfast.

  ‘What will we do in Spain, Em? Do you think we’ll be able to sneak off from the others?’

  ‘We should find something to do that the others won’t be interested in. Walking or something like that,’ Emmy suggested.

  ‘This looks good,’ Terry said, as he stopped outside a burger bar to examine the menu. ‘They do bacon rolls here and you can always get a decent coffee in these places.’

  ‘Looks good,’ Emmy replied, thinking how Porter would have dragged her into some hippy place that served avocado or eggs Benedict, some crap like that. She was a journalist. Journalists live on bacon butties and coffee. Just like coppers.

  They pushed through the double doors and joined the back of the short queue. Terry held Emmy’s hand, moving close into her while they waited and made final decisions on what they were eating. Soon they’d be together. Soon. If they could just walk away with some of Caitlen’s cash in the bank, it would be perfect.

  ‘How may I help you this morning? We have a free extra topping with every long Macchiato that you order today.’

  Terry didn’t even know what one of those was, it sounded like an opera to him.

  The penny was slow to drop, but Emmy had picked it up straight away.

  It was the red cap and hair tied back in a ponytail. And the diverting uniform, which tended to make all employees look homogeneous. But it was the voice that did it and made her look twice.

  ‘Well, fancy that! What on earth are you doing here, Naomi?’

  ‘I might ask you two the same thing,’ Naomi said, noticing how quickly Terry had drawn his hand away from Emmy’s the moment he’d realised who was serving them.

  Chapter Ten

  Benidorm: June

  What a prat!’ Terry said, openly sneering at Wes. This new arrival was definitely not his kind of man. Caitlen, Naomi and Harriet were hovering around him, enthralled by his wonderful guitar playing and incredible singing voice.

  ‘Singing James bloody Blunt, too. I think I just died and went to hell.’

  Terry hated it when he couldn’t be the centre of attention. He’d tried a joke as soon as he realised which song Wes was singing.

  ‘Yeah, you’re beautiful too, mate, but if I see your face in a crowded place I’ll know exactly what to do.’

  His lyric-based satire fell on deaf ears.

  ‘I really like James Blunt,’ Rhett protested, as if the singer were in the room with them and had taken offence at Terry’s comments.

  ‘He’s sold a shedload of albums and for some reason lots of blokes seem to have a real problem with him. He was in the army before he was a pop star – he can’t be a prat because they’d have sorted him out there if he was.’

  ‘Actually, I like him too,’ Kasey agreed.

  ‘Well, you would, wouldn’t you?’ Terry said, forgetting himself for a moment. He back-pedalled quickly. ‘What I mean is that guys who are gay are more sensitive, aren’t they? I mean you dress better than us straight guys and you have better taste in music. And you can dance ...’

  Rhett rescued h
im.

  ‘Whatever you think of James Blunt, you can’t deny that Wes is amazing.’

  Terry couldn’t deny that Wes was amazing. It was cramping his style already.

  Matt and Becky walked through the open apartment door. They’d been drawn by the sound of the music making its way along the hallway.

  ‘What is that lovely sound? I thought you’d put a CD on,’ Becky said.

  ‘It’s Wes, he’s amazing!’ Caitlen replied quietly, as Wes brought the song to an end and acknowledged the round of applause.

  ‘Yeah, him and James, they’re a right couple of Blunts!’ Terry muttered in earshot of the men. Still there were no bites.

  ‘Actually, I’m partial to a bit of James Blunt,’ Matt said. ‘I loved his first album, couldn’t stop playing it when it came out.’

  ‘Maybe we should adopt “You’re Beautiful” as our tune?’ Becky suggested.

  It was Matt’s turn to mutter something inaudible. He’d just spent the afternoon in bed with Becky, supposedly sleeping off that day’s journey. He wondered if she could feel that his heart wasn’t in it. He felt as if he was getting deeper and deeper into the trap.

  Wes started to play a new tune.

  ‘See if you recognise this one,’ he announced. He was performing already, he had a rapt audience and he hadn’t even ventured away from the sofa in Caitlen’s apartment yet.

  They recognised the tune immediately.

  ‘Oh, I love a bit of Oasis, what a great choice!’ Harriet smiled. ‘It’s like having your own private jukebox. This is amazing, Wes!’

  ‘Hi, mind if I come in?’

  It was Gina, drawn in by the excitement in the apartment opposite hers. There was a moment of disappointment as the men turned around to find that she was now dressed. However, she looked stunning in a figure-hugging, short dress. Her long legs were smooth and muscular, her figure spectacular and athletic.

  ‘Hi Gina!’ Caitlen said, a little over-enthusiastically.