All the Rage (34 page)

‘I do. '

‘How can you be so sure? '

It was his moment to keep quiet. She watched him, her eyes expressing doubt.

‘Kara,' he said reluctantly, ‘I had a weird dream when the surgeon was bringing me back from death's door. It scared the shit out of me. Do you remember that you once talked about being receptive to people who were no longer with us? Well, I believe in it. Call it an out-of-body experience – whatever – but it was very real to me. I've had the dream before, but this was different. '

He recounted the dream.

Kara's blood ran cold.

‘I think Antonia and Julius are still in danger,' Michael said. ‘And I think that Maggie is alive and keeping low. Remember, she was injured and needs time to recover. But she has the resources and, mark my words, she'll be back. All of us are in danger, so watch over your shoulder. Be vigilant. '

‘What can we do? ' she asked.

‘Maggie won't surface, not yet while the heat is still on. I reckon she got back into the house, retrieved the passports and escaped. There was a hell of a lot of cash lying around, which she would have taken as well. The police haven't mentioned this, so it stands to reason that they never found it when they searched the house. This was getaway money. I believe that Lauren and Maggie were about to do a runner. When I feel better and able to travel, I'm going to Venice to see Antonia and Julius. So much needs to be explained. Will you come with me? '

‘Wow, that's a big ask, Michael. '

‘They are good people, Kara. You'll like her. Besides, they can help you by filling in the missing pieces. I've asked Terry to broker a meeting. So much has changed. Julius will now lay claim to the farm and the twelve paintings, which survived the fire. The main house remained intact. As the surviving spouse he will get everything. Provided he can prove it was Lauren who perished in the barn, of course. It's all about legal ownership. A neat twist on things, don't you think? Lauren was manipulative and greedy and paid the ultimate price. Through her arrogance and deceit, she scuppered her devious plans and sealed her own fate. If she had played fair with him, they both could have forged a future of some kind – apart from one another of course - and shared their wealth jointly. But there was the rub. Lauren was insanely jealous and would not forgive a singular act of betrayal, even though he had betrayed himself in order to help her so many years ago. In masquerading as Patrick Porter, he was part of the deception, hiding her secret. Their whole life was built on a lie. Deep down, he resented her for her skills, but she brought in the big money. So he played along. He was talented, but she was
truly
gifted. His only excuse was blind love, shallow attitude, youth and stupidity. '

‘And your excuse? How are you going to come to terms with all that has happened? '

‘I'm getting there. Blind love or lust can be rectified. However, the shallow actions of a middle-aged twat are not so easy to sort out. That part will need working on. '

Kara bit her lip. ‘I lost my bonus,' she joked in a solemn manner.

He caught her mood. ‘Lighten up, Kara, and count your blessings. I do, every day. Come to Venice and meet with them. They can bring a sort of closure, if you like. '

‘It's too early for that, Michael, but yes, I'll meet with them. '

‘Good. ' Michael smiled, and looked into her eyes. ‘Enough about everybody else, Kara: what are you going to do now? '

She returned his gaze. For the first time, she saw the future, and decided to take his advice and lighten up. Misery was now a thing of the past. They all lost
something
that fateful day.

Her face lit up. ‘I have plans. Watch this space. '

 

***

 

Three Months Later...

 

‘What a fantastic surprise. Come in. '

Michael led Kara into the conservatory of his apartment and poured iced water from a jug on the table.

‘Are you alone? ' she asked.

‘Yes. '

‘You look great. ' She hugged him.

‘One more skin graft operation, then I'm off to the Caribbean,' he joked. ‘Coming? '

‘Don't tempt me! '

‘You look radiant, Kara. ' He noticed she wasn't drinking. ‘Do you want something else? '

‘Something stronger, perhaps? '

‘Gin and tonic, wine…'

Kara giggled. ‘Champagne? '

‘Are we celebrating? '

Kara moved to the window and marvelled at the huge expanse of London, which stretched out as far as she could see to the blue horizon. The cityscape looked magnificent, the light reflecting off the gleaming tall steel and glass structures. For the first time, the sun broke through the low cloud and bathed her in the warmth of the day. She heard the pop of the cork.

‘Well? ' he said.

She turned to him.
Wait for it.
‘The police are treating the fire as an accident, in view of our collaborating testimonies. Basically, this is the official line and gets us all off the hook. Great news, eh? '

‘I heard yesterday. It's huge relief, Kara. We can once again get our normal lives back on track, without this hanging over our heads. Maggie can't remain a fugitive forever. Is that why you've come to see me? '

Kara smiled.
Wait.
‘Sort of,' she teased. ‘Do you recall my remark about making plans? '

‘Hmm…'

‘Well, this is my last alcoholic drink, for a while, anyway. '

‘Because. . ? ' Then it clicked, and he smiled too.

She beamed. ‘I'm having a baby. '

‘Bloody amazing! ' He yelled. ‘Does Marcus know? '

‘Yes. He's jumping up and down with the excitement of becoming a dad. He's driving me crazy! I just thought that you should be the next to know, after all that we have been through. It somehow feels right. Marcus and I want you to be the godfather to our first child. '

‘A double celebration. ' He raised a glass to her glass. ‘This is the best news in the world. ' A mischievous glint appeared in his eye. ‘Assuming it's going to be a boy, how are you going to tell Marcus that you've chosen Michael as a name? '

‘That will have to wait until he comes back to earth, and who knows when that will be! ' She laughed. ‘Don't you think I have enough on my plate looking after one oversized child already? '

 

***

 

The news of Kara's pregnancy and the decision by the police to drop the investigation against them had a huge impact on Michael. It gave him the impetus to awaken the spirit within, which he felt had been lost forever. The dark side lifted, allowing for a renewal of faith in all things good. Within days, he severed his dependence on the daily visits from the nurse, and, like Kara, began to make plans. Revitalised, he ventured out on his own for a short stroll beside the harbour, aided by a walking stick. Slowly, his strength was returning. Little steps, he reminded himself.

 

During his walk, he rested on a bench and took stock of his situation. Life was returning to how it used to be, but without the aggravation and worry. Toby was now integral to everything, taking on and winning the battle for financial security, which had become a burden to Michael, notably with the taxman who was breathing down his neck. Toby had reached a compromise with the authorities, allowing the gallery to continue to trade without hindrance. His son had certainly proved his worth, stabilising both the business and, incredibly, the bad relationship which previously existed between his mother and father. Straight talking was the order of the day. It was Toby who eventually got the message across to Adele that hard line tactics would sink them all, which would ultimately be counterproductive to her cause. He had to admire his son's logic: in other words, Adele understood which side of her bread was buttered. Michael knew the situation wasn't perfect. Never would be, but a kind of truce was struck between them.

The icing on the cake was Kara's happiness, and the overwhelming joy everyone felt toward the forthcoming birth. Michael had to smile. Marcus was now a different man, extolling the virtues of fatherhood even before experiencing it first-hand. That was Marcus! His enthusiasm, as always, was getting the better of him. Kara wouldn't have it any other way. They were made for each other, Michael was delighted to admit.

On his return to the apartment, Michael was overtaken by physical exhaustion. Even a short walk became an endurance test. The London marathon was certainly out of the question at this stage. His humour ad

not deserted him, thankfully. In time, his speed of recovery would hasten, and then nothing could stop him conquering the world again. For now, a cup of tea would suffice.

The telephone rang. It was Terry. The world tipped over again.

‘Thought you should know,' his friend said, without the need for social niceties. ‘Delores Porter has passed away. Died yesterday, after a bout of pneumonia. Quite suddenly, but not unexpectedly, owing to her old age and frailty. '

Michael was not entirely shocked, more saddened by the news. It put a damper of his renewed optimism. Then an ugly thought crossed his mind, but before he could speak, Terry beat him to it.

‘This throws up quite a scenario, don't you think? The funeral takes place in five days. Can you see where this is leading? '

Christ. When it rains, it pours. He knew exactly where this was going.

‘The police will be expecting Maggie to suddenly turn up,' he replied, his voice wavering under the weight of the conversation. Out of nowhere, a ferocious headache blasted into his skull.

‘Maggie's husband is taking charge of the funeral arrangements,' Terry said. ‘He maintains that no contact has been made with his errant wife. That's hard to believe, especially as they have two children. Also, he seems remarkably unaffected by her apparent disappearance. The police aren't buying into his story either. '

‘Assuming she's still alive, of course. '

‘Of course. ' Terry paused. ‘But where is the anguish that you would normally expect from a husband in these circumstances? '

‘Do you think he's protecting her? '

‘Got to be. It's inconceivable that a close knit family would be driven apart without secretly communicating in some way. According to the police, this is the official line they are following. It stands to reason, therefore, that the likelihood of her death seems remote. In all probability, he is shielding her. But this new development changes everything,

Michael. If she is lying low then she's making a damn good job of it.

There's been the odd sighting by the public, but often by misguided do-gooders. This has led the police down a blind alley on several occasions but no concrete evidence can point to her whereabouts. So it's all conjecture at this stage as to whether she will surface at long last. '

Michael knew better.
She's alive, without a doubt. Fuck.

He moved to the drinks cabinet, forgoing the tea for a large measure of brandy. He closed his eyes and let the whole picture sink in. When he reopened them, the contents of his glass had miraculously vanished.

‘Are you still listening, Michael? '

This time, Michael turned his back on the bottle and discarded the glass in the kitchen sink. Alcohol would simply cloud his judgement, and he wasn't going in that direction again. This time, he needed his wits to be razor sharp, because the war of attrition was about to start. Only this time, the enemy was hidden. Keeping undercover. Approaching the fight, unseen. Playing clever.

Terry spoke again. ‘The burial will take place in Ireland. Plain- clothed police officers will travel over and stake out the funeral service, with the help of the local Gardai. This is their chance, in the belief that she'll not be able to keep away. ' He fell silent, waiting for a reaction.

There was none. ‘Michael, are you still there? '

The brain can only take so much. In Michael's case, it began to shut down. Swiftly. He had control, but only just. Moments earlier, he felt able and strong-willed, but courage began to desert him.

This was hell revisited, but in his heart he knew this moment would come one day.

‘Yes, Terry, I'm still here,' he said finally. Beyond this response, he couldn't fathom his next words. Instead, he gripped the phone and stared into space, imagining the venom contained in this killer called Maggie.

This vision was unnerving beyond belief. His body trembled, the warm sticky sweat seeping into his shirt. Faith was lost in an instant, and that, out of everything, was the hardest thing for Michael to come to terms with.

He remembered his promise to Kara,
when this was all over, there would be a safe and loving world in which to live.

An empty promise, he now feared.

Prologue