Текст книги "This Man Confessed"

Автор книги: Jodi Ellen Malpas

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Текущая страница: 29 (всего у книги 34 страниц)

‘I need to go.’ I remind him, glancing down at my Rolex. ‘It’s eight thirty already.’

‘Two minutes.’ he repeats, returning me to standing. ‘You’ll wait for me.’

‘Hurry up then!’ I push him away and he starts jogging backwards with his contented grin in place. He’s all happy and roguish again.

I find Cathy in the kitchen wrapping a bagel and still muttering under her breath. She soon stops when my presence is noted. ‘Ava,’ She scurries over, wiping her hands down her apron. ‘I tried to stop the vindictive little minx!’

Something tells me Cathy has had an encounter with Coral before. ‘Don’t worry, Cathy.’ I smile and give her a rub of her arm. ‘You know her, then?’ I press lightly.

‘Oh, I know her, and I don’t like her.’ She starts muttering again as she returns to the island to finish wrapping my breakfast. ‘She’s been turning up for months, pestering my boy and claiming poverty. I told her. I said, look here, you conniving little tramp. Leave my boy alone and try fixing your marriage.’ I smile as I watch her aggressive hand movements, virtually bashing away at my bagel. ‘I don’t know how many times my boy has sent her packing. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’ She looks up at me. ‘Have you taken your folic acid?’

‘No,’ I walk to the fridge and collect a bottle of water before taking the pills that Cathy hands me, followed by a ginger biscuit.’ Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome, dear.’ Her wrinkled face grins. ‘You certainly put her in her place.’ She laughs and retrieves my bagel, and then stuffs it in my bag. ‘You eat that, I mean it.’

‘You sound like Jesse.’ I down my pills.

‘He cares, Ava. Don’t condemn him for that,’ she scolds me lightly, looking over my shoulder. ‘Here he is, and he’s dressed!’

‘I’m dressed.’ He laughs, straightening his tie. ‘As is my beautiful wife.’

I roll my eyes, but I don’t feel embarrassed at all. She’s seen it all before, and Coral’s visit has taken the edge off any mortification. ‘Can I go to work now?’

He pulls his collar down and rubs his three days’ worth of stubble. Two minutes didn’t give him time to shave. ‘Have you taken your folic acid?’

‘Yes,’ I groan.

‘Have you had your breakfast?’

I tap the side of my bag.

‘You better eat that.’ he warns, taking my hand. ‘Say goodbye to Cathy.’

‘Bye, Cathy!’

‘Bye, dear. Bye, my boy!’

I’m a little wary when we leave the penthouse, and even more wary when we step out of the elevator, into the foyer of Lusso, but she’s nowhere to be seen. I wince when I see Clive at the concierge desk, knowing he’s about to cop it in a big way.

‘Morning, Ava. Mr Ward.’ The old boy’s cheerfulness is going to be short lived once Jesse lets loose.

‘Clive,’ Jesse begins. ‘How the hell did a woman make it past you and up to the penthouse?’

The confusion on Clive’s face is clear. ‘Mr Ward, I’ve just come on shift.’

‘Just?’

‘Yes, I relieved the new boy…’ he glances down at his watch. ‘only ten minutes ago.’

I cringe further. It’s Casey who’ll be copping it. My sympathy for the new concierge increases. Chancing a peek at my man, I note a look of pure irritation. Casey might do well never to return. ‘When’s he back on shift?’ Jesse asks shortly.

‘I finish at four.’ Clive confirms. ‘Did he do something wrong, Mr Ward? I have advised him of protocol.’

I’m pulled towards the sunlight outside. ‘For what fucking use it’s done.’ Jesse mutters. ‘John’s taking you to work.’ he tells me as we emerge.

‘When do I get my Mini back?’ I ask, spotting the big guy across the car park, leaning up against the driver’s door.

‘You’re not. It’s a write off.’

‘Oh,’ I say quietly. I love my Mini. ‘Well when do I get to drive myself to work, then?’

Jesse opens the passenger door of John’s Range Rover and lifts me in. ‘When I find out who stole my car.’

‘Why aren’t you taking me to work?’

He pulls my seatbelt across and secures me before dropping a kiss on my forehead. ‘I have a few meetings at The Manor.’

‘Then why did you make me wait for you?’ I ask on a scowl.

‘So I could put you in John’s car and remind you to speak with Patrick.’

I know I audibly groan. ‘You’re impossible.’

‘You’re beautiful. Have a good day.’ He kisses me once more and shuts me in, giving John a brief nod before making his way to the DBS. I’m suspicious of that nod and when John climbs in next to me, I make sure I direct my suspiciousness at him.

‘What’s up, Girl?’

‘Him.’

‘Nothing’s changed then,’ he laughs that deep, rumbling laugh.

‘No, nothing has changed.’ I grumble.

Chapter 31

I’m a whole hour late for work, but I’m not going to get away with it today. Patrick is here, and he’s standing over my desk when I finally burst through the door.

‘Flower?’ His round face is questioning, and the last thing I need today. I’m late, and now I’m going to shock him into a heart attack with my announcement. He looks up at the office clock. ‘What time do you call this?’

It’s one of the only times I’ve seen a displeased look on my boss’s face. I’ve always been so dedicated to my career, but personal stuff is getting in the way and my job has been side lined. I’m really pushing my luck, and I have been since Jesse trampled into my life. ‘I’m sorry, Patrick.’ I can’t lie and feed him any rubbish on a client appointment, so I leave it at just an apology.

‘Ava, I know your life has been moving pretty quickly lately—congratulations, by the way, but I need dedication.’ He takes his comb from his inside pocket and sweeps it through his silver mop.

I’m a little shocked. Congratulations, by the way? That was hardly sincere. ‘I’m sorry.’ I repeat because I’m stumped for anything else to say. By the way? I’m a little insulted, but my slighted state isn’t drawing any further inspiration to voice it, and Patrick doesn’t give me the chance to, anyway. He goes back to his office, shutting the door behind him. I turn my confusion onto my three colleagues, who are all sitting quietly with their heads down. Has he had a pop at them, too? I collapse in my chair and decide, wisely or not, given my boss’s annoyance, to call Kate. A friendly voice. That’s what I need to hear right now.

She grunts down the phone in greeting.

‘Are you still in bed?’ I ask, firing up my computer.

‘Yep.’ is the one word, swift reply that shoots down the phone.

I smile. ‘Is a certain cute, messy haired, dimpled faced man with you?’ I pray for a yes, then hear shuffles and definitely a giggle, making my smile widen. I might have wanted to hear a friendly voice, but this will do the trick, too.

‘He is.’ She answers on a little shriek, not bothering to evade or brush off my question. ‘Sam!’

‘Okay, I’ll go.’ I have things to share, but I’m more than happy to hold off.

‘No, Ava!’

‘What?’

‘Wait!’ she demands. I hear more shuffling, definitely a few slaps and then a door close. ‘I just wanted to know how you got on with Dan.’ She’s whispering, for obvious reasons.

That wipes the smile clean from my face. Kate doesn’t need to know the gory details, and I’m just as ashamed of my brother as he is of himself. ‘Fine. It’s fine. He’s gone back to Australia, and Jesse convinced him to keep quiet.’

‘I feel responsible.’

‘Kate, he’d already worked it out, before you made the entrance of the year.’ I can joke about it now. ‘Did you talk?’ I ask tentatively, taping my pen furiously on the table and wondering if there’s still scope for a bit of head bashing.

‘Yes, we talked. He knew about Dan.’ She pauses, and I know she’s waiting for a shocked gasp from me, but too much time has passed for me to fake one now.

I try, anyway. ‘Really?’ I practically shriek, receiving three sets of wide, startled eyes shoot straight to me from every corner of the office.

‘Whatever, Ava.’ she mumbles. ‘I felt like such an idiot. He’s not as daft as I thought.’

‘I know,’ I agree. ‘So, everything is okay?’

‘Yes, everything is fine. Perfect, in fact.’

I’m smiling again. ‘No more Manor?’

‘No more Manor.’ she confirms. ‘How are you? Throwing up? Achy legs? Any stretch marks?’

‘Not yet,’ I look down and notice my hand resting on my stomach. ‘I might not be the only one getting all of those things, though.’ I prick her curiosity. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever keep this one to myself.

‘Ooohhhh, who’s preggers?’ she asks, obviously intrigued. ‘Not boring Sal?’

‘No!’ I look over at boring Sal and instantly register that she is, in fact, boring Sal again. I cave on the inside for her. ‘Who then?’ Kate’s impatient voice relieves my eyes of boring, suicidal Sal and pulls me back to her pressing need for answers.

‘Coral.’

‘Fuck off!’

‘No, Coral is pregnant and that’s not all.’ I’m teasing when I really don’t need to. I have her full attention and shock. She’s heard nothing yet. ‘And she claims it’s Jesse’s’

‘WHAT?’

I pull my phone away from my ear, certain that the whole office, perhaps even the whole of London, heard her. ‘It’s not, though.’

‘Wait, wait wait.’ She’s gesturing with her hands in my mind’s eye, and I hear the unmistakable scraping of a chair across her kitchen floor. She’s sitting herself down. ‘Coral’s pregnant?’

‘Yes,’

‘And she claims its Jesse’s?’

‘Yes,’ I open my email as I answer, all casual and not at all affected by Kate’s shock. I’m over it.

‘But it’s not?’

‘Nope,’

‘How do you know?’ She asks the question prudently, but it’s a fair one, and I highly expected it.

‘Because she tried to pass off a peanut as a walnut.’

‘What the fucking hell are you on about?’

I sigh and continue absentmindedly scrolling my email account. ‘She has a scan picture. She’s claiming it’s a four month scan, but it’s clearly not and she’s cut all of the evidence away – the date, everything.’

‘The crafty fucking bitch! Is she that desperate?’

‘Very. She’s four-ish weeks, maximum. The last time Jesse slept with the tramp was over four months ago. I swear to God, Kate, I was this…’

‘Hold up!’

‘What?’

‘Fucking hell! SAM!’ she shrieks, and I jump in my chair. ‘SAM!’

‘Will you stop yelling in my ear?’ I snap, hearing thundering footsteps down the line, then the sound of a door crashing open. There’s the mumbled, sleepy voice of Sam, and the high pitched, wide awake shriek of Kate. I can hear neither. Sam is too quiet and Kate is so loud, she’s all distorted. ‘Kate?’

‘Ava, fucking hell!’

I’m losing my rag now. ‘Stop your shouting and talk to me.’

‘Okay,’ she pants. ‘Drew slept with Coral.’

I sit up in my chair. ‘When?’

‘Oh, about four or five weeks ago.’ she says casually, which is a million miles away from the last few moments of frantic shouting and blurting of words.

‘How do you know?’

‘Sam told me. Drew was rat arsed, Coral nabbed him. The poor bloke knew nothing about it and probably wouldn’t if Sam hadn’t have turned up at his place. He caught her sneaking out.’

‘Oh shit,’ I’m not scrolling my email casually anymore. I’m tapping my pen wildly on the side of my desk. ‘How did she think she’d get away with it? I mean, the baby would be three months overdue!’

‘Desperate people do desperate things, my friend.’ She’s calmed right down. ‘Sam’s on the phone to him now. Are you okay? That must have been a shock, even if she was lying.’

‘Yeah, I’m used to shock with Jesse.’ I brush it off with the apathy the whole episode deserves. Drew won’t be, though.

‘Good. You need to be careful now, don’t you?’ She asks it sweetly as a question, but there is a tinge of menace in there, too.

‘I do, I am, and I will. Listen, I’d better go. Patrick’s got the hump with me and Tom, Sal and Victoria all look like someone’s slapped them in the face. Lunch tomorrow?’

‘Perfect. Call me.’ She hangs up, and I cast a sceptical gaze around my office. It’s only ever this quiet when I’m here on my own. I glance over my shoulder to Patrick’s office and see his door shut and whilst I’m dying to call Jesse and off load my new knowledge, I would be pushing my luck further. I know Sam will be calling him up, anyway. I should prep for my meeting with Ruth Quinn.

* * *

At eleven thirty, no one has spoken still, Patrick hasn’t come out of his office and I’m feeling nervous when I knock on Patrick’s door. I don’t just open it like I usually would. I wait for his okay and when it comes, I poke my head around and smile sweetly. ‘I have a noon appointment with Miss Quinn.’

‘Fine. You need to be back by two. We’re having a meeting.’ His tone is clipped, and he doesn’t look at me, choosing to keep his attention on the screen of his computer.

‘Okay,’ I shut the door with care and leave the office bewildered and concerned. A meeting? A meeting to discuss my lack of job commitment lately, no doubt, and bizarrely, I’m not even that concerned.

I’m greeted by a moped courier at the door. ‘Delivery for Ava O’Shea.’ His voice is muffled through his helmet, which he hasn’t taken off.

‘That’s me.’ I murmur apprehensively, the sound of my maiden name sending a chill down my spine.

‘Sign here, please.’ He thrusts a clipboard under my nose and I sign away, taking an envelope from him when I’m done. I don’t want to accept this delivery, but when John pulls up, I try my hardest to appear natural when I really should be appearing exasperated at the big guy’s arrival. The courier jumps on his bike and zooms off down the road without another muffled word. It’s not until John leans over and pushes the passenger door open that I realise I’m frozen in place, still with the envelope in my hand.

‘What you got there, girl?’ he asks, his smooth, shiny forehead creasing above his wraparounds.

‘Nothing,’ I stuff it in my bag and jump in, pulling my seatbelt on. ‘What are you doing here?’

He pulls straight into the traffic and starts the therapeutic tapping of his palm on the steering wheel, and I wonder how the leather hasn’t developed a dent in it from the constant drumming. ‘You have an appointment, girl.’

My inquisitive eyes bore into the side of his head. He can’t possibly know that because I’ve ensured my work diary remains under lock and key, just like my mouth. ‘How do you know?’ For the first time since I’ve known this big, menacing, black man, he looks awkward, and he’s refusing to look at me. ‘He’s making you follow me, isn’t he?’ I accuse. I don’t believe this.

His tapping increases momentum. I give him time to think about his answer, but I can tell by the look on his face that he knows I’ve got him. ‘Girl, someone tried to ram you off the road. You cannot blame him for being a little jittery. Where am I heading.’

‘Lansdowne Terrace,’ I reply. ‘So what’s your excuse for all of the other times he’s stalked me?’

‘I don’t have one.’ he answers candidly. ‘Those times he was just a crazy mother fucker.’

I laugh and John joins me, his neck retracting just how I like it. ‘Don’t you get bored?’ I ask, thinking that he must see me as a royal pain in the arse. This definitely can’t be in his job description.

‘No,’ He quits with the laughing and turns to me, smiling fondly. ‘That crazy mother fucker isn’t the only one who cares about you, girl.’

I have to press my lips together before my stupid pregnant emotions get the better of me and I let out an embarrassing sob. I know John won’t appreciate it. ‘I don’t mind you either.’ I shrug his affection off because I know he’ll appreciate that, and his quiet laugh confirms it.

‘I’ve been reading.’ he informs me, leaning over and opening the glove compartment. He takes a book out and hands it to me before resuming tapping of the wheel.

I read the title, and then again to make sure I have it right. ‘Bonsai trees?’

‘That’s right.’

I start flicking through the pages, admiring the pretty little trees and imagining John bent over one, delicately clipping at the fragile branches. ‘It’s a hobby?’

‘Yes, very relaxing.’

‘Where do you live, John?’ I don’t know where the question comes from. John and Bonsai trees would never be two things that I would naturally put together, but with this strange, new knowledge, I’m compelled to know.

‘Chelsea, girl.’

‘Alone?’

‘All alone.’ He laughs. ‘Me and my trees.’

I’m astonished. I would never have thought it. This is a man who on first sight I thought was a member of the Mafia—this huge, black, mean looking geezer, who patrols The Manor, keeps over exited men, and perhaps women, too, in their place, and now I find out that he lives with trees? Fascinating.

* * *

‘Are you going to wait outside for me?’ I ask John playfully when he pulls up outside Ruth Quinn’s house.

His gold tooth flashes, and he reaches over to take the book. ‘I might read a few pages, girl.’

‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’ I jump out and dash up the path to Ruth’s home.

The front door is open before I even knock. ‘Ava!’ She sounds far too happy to see me.

‘Hi, Ruth. How are you?’

‘Fabulous! Come in.’ She looks over my shoulder on a slight frown and ushers me in quickly.

I let her be curious because explaining John will take too long, and I don’t want to stay any longer than is necessary. I need to keep this as professional as possible.

She leads me down the corridor, into the kitchen. ‘Did you have a good weekend?’ she asks.

Brilliant and awful. It seems like light-years ago. ‘Yes, thank you, and you?’ I settle myself at the huge oak table and get my files out.

‘Wonderful,’ she sings, taking a seat next to me.

I smile politely and open her file. ‘So, what did you want to discuss? Cupboards?’

‘No, don’t worry about the cupboards. We’ll stick with the original. Now, the wine fridge, remind me, did we opt for the single or double width?’

If that is what she’s dragged me here for, I will be most upset. ‘Double.’ I say slowly. I’m not at all comfortable. She could have called for both of those points. My phone starts ringing from my bag, but I ignore it, even though it’s Angel. I don’t plan on being here for much longer, and there is absolutely no need for me to be, so I can call him back as soon as I escape. ‘Was that all?’ I ask dubiously. My phone rings off, then starts again immediately.

‘Do you want to get that?’ she asks, looking at my bag.

‘It’s fine,’ I shake my head mildly. She doesn’t know it, but it’s in disbelief. ‘Was there anything else Ruth?’

‘Urm,’ She looks frantically around the kitchen. ‘Yes, I’ve changed my mind about the walnut floor.’ she says, dragging a magazine over from the other side of the table. ‘I quite like this.’ She points to an oak alternative on the cover of the magazine.

I start to voice my reasons for sticking to walnut when my phone cuts me off. My shoulders sag.

Ruth pushes my bag towards me. ‘Ava, perhaps you should answer. Whoever it is obviously wants to talk to you.’

I close my eyes in a give-me-strength gesture and reach into my bag to retrieve my phone before getting up from the table and making my way into the hall. ‘Jesse, I’m in a meeting. Can I call you back?’

‘I’m having Ava withdrawal.’ he murmurs. ‘Are you having Jesse withdrawal?’

‘Is there a cure?’ I ask on a grin, knowing damn well what the cure is.

‘Yes, it’s called constant contact. What time are you finishing work?’

‘I’m not sure. I have a meeting at two with Patrick.’ I glance over my shoulder and see Ruth flicking through the design magazine. She may not be paying any attention, but she must be able to hear me. Maybe that’s a good thing. I’m happily married, most of the time. And I’m pregnant, too. Should I slip that into the conversation?

‘Oh good. You’re finally going to see through on your promise to talk with Patrick.’ Jesse says.

‘Yes,’

‘Well it won’t take that long, will it?’

‘No, probably not, but it doesn’t matter because John will be waiting for me, won’t he?’ I answer his question with my own. I’ve probably dropped John in it, but what’s the point in pretending I don’t know?

‘He will,’ I can hear his grin in his tone. ‘How are my babies, lady?’

‘Our babies are fine,’ I realise immediately what I’ve just said, and I also notice my hand caressing my belly. ‘Jesse, I need to get back. I’ll see you later.’

‘What am I supposed to do until later?’

‘Go for a run.’

‘I already did that.’ he counters proudly. ‘Maybe I’ll go shopping.’

‘Yes, go shopping.’ I encourage him, hoping he lands in Babies R Us and doesn’t emerge until gone six. ‘I love you.’ I end the conversation on something that’ll placate him for a little longer.

‘I know.’ he sighs.

‘Bye.’ I smile and hang up, making my way back to the kitchen. ‘Sorry about that.’ I wave my phone as I sit back down. ‘So, oak then?’

She looks lost in thought as she studies me for a while, and then her stare drops to my tummy, which is tucked neatly under the table. I knew she must have heard, but a tiny part of me was hoping she hadn’t.

I start scribbling down a load of complete nonsense. ‘I’ll get a price on the oak. The fitting and labour will be the same, but I’ll check it out, anyway. Are you sure we’re ditching the walnut?’ I wait for her confirmation, but when I’ve ran out of things to write and she still hasn’t answered, I look up and find her still daydreaming. ‘Ruth?’

‘Oh, sorry! I was miles away. Yes, please do.’ She jumps up. ‘Ava, I’m so sorry, I’ve not even offered you a cup of tea. Or maybe wine. We could have a cheeky lunchtime wine.’

‘No, honestly. I don’t drink.’

‘Why?’

Her abrupt question increases my unease. ‘Not in the week. I don’t drink in the week.’

‘I see. Yes, we can all get a bit carried away.’ She smiles, but it goes nowhere near her blue eyes. ‘How’s your husband?’

I can’t help the sharp inhale of breath. Not when she’s linked alcohol, getting carried, away and my husband all in two close sentences. ‘He’s good.’ I start to pack my things away, keen to leave. She may have innocently touched a nerve, but she’s still gazing longingly at me, and it’s becoming unbearable. ‘I’ll get those quotes and call you.’

I make to stand a bit too hastily and catch my heel on the leg of the chair, causing me to stumble slightly. She’s on me in a second, holding my arm to steady me. ‘Ava, are you okay?’

‘Yes, fine.’ I collect myself, trying my hardest not to appear uneasy, but now she has a hold of me and she’s not letting go. In fact, she’s trailing her hand up my arm. I tense from top to toe as it makes it to my cheek and strokes me gently.

‘So beautiful,’ she whispers.

I should move back, but I’m too shocked and my lack of recoil is allowing her to caress my cheek to her hearts content. ‘I should go,’ I say quietly, finally letting some sensibility filter into my brain. I step back and her hand falls away, a shimmer of embarrassment washing over her face. She laughs and looks away. ‘Yes, perhaps you should.’

I take her cue and make my getaway, hurrying down the hall to the front door and swinging it open. I don’t even close it behind me. John spots me rushing towards his car and jumps out. ‘Ava, girl?’ he questions as he runs a quick all over scan of me, checking I’m physically okay. Once he’s satisfied himself that I am, he looks past me and slowly reaches up to remove his sunglasses. His action wouldn’t appear so strange if he’d have left his glasses on, but he hasn’t, and now he’s looking up the path to Ruth’s house.

I slow my escape and turn to see what’s caught his interest, seeing the front door close to Ruth’s home as I do. ‘What’s up, John?’ I ask, feeling better now that I’m away from my friendly client, who now just seems creepy.

‘Nothing, girl. Get in the car.’ His glasses are replaced and he nods at me, instead of repeating himself, so I climb in and wait for him to join me. He slides in and turns towards me. ‘What’s got you in a state?’

I sag and pull my seatbelt on, feeling a little stupid. ‘I think I have a female admirer.’

I expect a laugh or at least a shocked gasp, but I get nothing, just a nod of acknowledgment and a face that turns away from me. ‘Something else to send the mother fucker crazy.’ John rumbles dryly. ‘What’s her name?’

‘Ruth Quinn. She’s strange.’

He nods thoughtfully. ‘Back to the office?’

‘Please, John.’ I throw my bag between my feet, dislodging the envelope that I tucked neatly in there earlier. It pokes out, reminding me of its presence, and I reach down, curiosity getting the better of me.

‘What’s that?’ John asks, nodding at the brown A4 envelope that I’m holding.

‘I’m not sure.’ I sound as apprehensive as I feel. ‘A courier delivered it.’ I’m being totally honest because if this turns out to be another warning, then I’ll be telling Jesse anyway, so it’s of no consequence if John knows, too. I peel the seal and pull out a piece of card and as soon as I clock the cut out letters, I lose my breath.

‘What is it?’ John asks, his voice laced with concern.

I can’t speak. There is a certain level of maliciousness linked to these sorts of letters and as I stare down at the message, assembled with various newspaper and magazine cuttings, my casual disregard of my previous warning seems quite reckless.

‘It’s another warning.’ I manage to splutter through my racing breath. I feel sick.

‘Another?’

‘Yes, I had one with some half dead flowers. I just chucked it in the bin and put it down to a jilted ex-sexual conquest.’ I open the window to get some needed fresh air.

‘What does it say?’ John keeps flicking his sunglass covered eyes over to the piece of card that I’ve dropped in my lap. I read the message to him.

‘I told you to leave him.’

A frustrated curse shoots into the air. ‘What did the other one say? Was it like that one?’

I try and collect my scattered thoughts and attempt to recall the exact wording of the other message. ‘Something along the lines of me not knowing him. They said they did.’ I shake my head in frustration. ‘I can’t remember. The other was handwritten.’ I’m furious with myself for getting rid of it when I should have been sensible and told Jesse. He’s got Steve investigating the car incident and my drugging and, stupidly, I kept something from him that could’ve assisted in dealing with this. It may have sent him off the deep end initially, but the long term benefits to him knowing far outweigh the meltdown that would be guaranteed—the meltdown he’s going to have very soon because now he will know, and I’m going to be facing a seriously pissed off male. I’ve been so stupid.

‘Why haven’t you told Jesse?’ John sounds concerned, only heightening my own worrying thoughts.

‘Why do you think, John?’ He can’t be so unwise to ask that question, and the deep breath and brief look of understanding that travel across his annoyed face tells me he’s not.

‘Okay, girl.’ He doesn’t say I’ve been foolish, but I know he’s thinking it.

‘I thought it was Coral.’ I say quietly.

‘Even after the dressing down that you gave her this morning?’ He’s restraining a small smile, I can tell.

‘No, I thought it was Coral before. Not now.’

‘Do you want to tell him, or should I?’ John asks seriously. I know what he means. No further elaboration is required and when he looks at me and nods at my pleading face, I know he understands. ‘I’ll tell him, girl.’

‘Can you try to calm him down, too?’

‘If we were talking about anything else, I’d say yes. But this is you. I’m not promising anything.’

I sigh, but I appreciate his frankness. ‘Thank you. Are you going back to The Manor?’

‘No, girl. I’ll call him. You just get done at work, and I’ll be waiting for you.’

‘Okay.’ I agree, feeling anxious, stupid and way too vulnerable. Once again, I’ve underestimated something that I really shouldn’t have.

* * *

The office is still uncomfortably silent when John drops me off at work. All three of my colleagues heads are firmly down, Sally still looks suicidal, and Patrick’s office door is still closed. No one acknowledges me when I pass through and Sally doesn’t offer me a coffee, so I dump my bag and head through to the kitchen to make myself one.

I’m just tipping my third sugar into the mug when my shoulders rise and tense at the sound of my beloved husband’s ringtone. If I could get away with it, I’d ignore him, but he’ll be calling the landline and failing that, charging into the office. Abandoning my coffee, I take deep breaths of courage as I go in search of my phone. This isn’t going to be a call that I can take in the openness of my office, so I hurry to the conference room and close the door behind me before connecting myself to what will be a raging mass of angry male.

‘Please don’t shout at me!’ I blurt down the line, immediately holding the phone away from my ear once I’ve made my plea.

I was right. ‘What the fucking hell were you thinking?’ he yells. ‘You stupid, stupid woman!’

My eyes close, and I quietly accept his rant, keeping my phone at a safe distance.

He’s breathing erratically between scorns. ‘I’ve been pulling my fucking hair out, trying to work with Steve and figure this shit out, and all along you had a handwritten threat?’ I hear a door slam. ‘And you tore it up? Evidence, Ava. Fucking evidence!’

‘I’m sorry!’ I’m close to tears. ‘I didn’t want to worry you. I thought it was harmless.’

‘Harmless, even after you were drugged? And did you still think it was harmless after you got rammed from the road?’ He’s so mad, but I know it’s because he’s not in control. He can’t control what’s happening, and it’s sending him crazy mad.

‘I should have told you.’

‘Fuck!’ Silence falls after his curse, and I can see a clear mental image of him slumped in his office chair, rubbing a furious circle on his temple with his fingertips. ‘Tell me you’re not leaving that office this afternoon.’

‘I have a meeting with Patrick. I’ll speak to him about Mikael.’ I’m trying to tell him what I know he wants to hear. I can’t work with Mikael, even if I don’t think it’s him anymore.

‘This isn’t the work of Mikael, Ava.’ he says more calmly than I know he’s feeling. I knew that, but what has convinced Jesse? ‘Steve confirmed that Mikael was on the flight to Denmark. He’s been back and forth to London over the last few weeks, but completely legit. He couldn’t have drugged you and he couldn’t have been driving my car because both of those times it’s confirmed that he was in Denmark. And why the hell would he say that he knows me?’ Jesse’s tone gets sharper as he finishes the sentence. It’s a reference to the first threat.

‘What about the man in the CCTV footage?’ I ask tentatively?

‘I don’t know, Ava.’ he sighs. ‘My car was found yesterday. Steve’s looking into it. The tracker’s been deactivated.’