Beautiful Liar (29 page)

“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 he'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.”

“So it was blood money,” I said.

“Something like that.” She smiled ruefully. “I went to Duncan with my suspicions. To be honest, even then I hadn't put two and two together. I thought maybe there was something wrong with the car your father had been driving—that it hadn't been properly serviced or something. But Duncan broke down and told me everything.”

“And that's why you didn't want anything to do with him after that.”

“Yes. I didn't
know what else to do. By then, there were no marks on the car. No proof of what had gone on.”

“Which was why you couldn't go to the police, either,” I filled in. I shook my head in disgust.

“It changed everything, you know.” My mother spoke in a low voice. I looked over at her. The moonlight peeked through the window and caught the silver tears on her cheek. “Once I knew what had really happened . . . and that I couldn't bring it to light . . . I felt like I'd betrayed your father. Like somehow I was part of the conspiracy.”

As she said that, a memory caught hold. Early on, after my father's death, she'd been sad, but she'd still been our mother—she'd still looked after us. But it was six months after his death that she'd fallen apart—and that the drinking had started.

“Is that why you began drinking?”

She gave a rueful smile. “It was stupid, I know. And it hurt you and April so much. But it was my way of dulling the pain. Just for a little while at least.”

In that moment I began to understand her a bit more. It must have been a terrible burden to carry—knowing that someone you loved hadn't got the justice they deserved. And then feeling like you'd been given money to cover up the true circumstances of their death. I could only begin to imagine how alone she must have felt.

We sat quietly for a while. It was me who finally broke the silence.

“Well, what do we do now? Do we go to the police?”

She looked at me. “We could. But Alex would probably go to jail. Do you really want that?”

I thought about it for a moment. I honestly didn't know how I felt. How was it possible to love and hate someone so much? I could go to the police and destroy his life. But would it make me feel any better? And would it bring my father back?

It was funny. I'd always known Alex would break my heart. I just hadn't thought it would be like this.

My mother was studying me closely.

“You love him, don't you?” she said.

“I did.” It was an honest answer.

“And now?”

“How can I after what he's done?”

Tears blurred my eyes. I wasn't even aware of just how hard I was crying until I heard the scrape of my mum's chair. A second later, she was kneeling down next to me, folding me into her arms.

“Oh, poppet,” she said, and I could hear the anguish in her voice. It matched my own. “This isn't fair, is it? None of it is fair.”

I was crying too hard to answer. She held me close, stroking my hair and murmuring reassurances as I sobbed against
her. It was the first time for years that she'd taken care of me. And right now, I was happy to let her.

The next couple of days passed in a blur. Jas came back from Paris, and called me to say that she was engaged. That, at least, Alex hadn't lied about—Hugh had told him that he was thinking of proposing to Jas. Despite my warning her about Hugh, he'd actually decided to make a very formal and very public commitment to her.

I was genuinely pleased for Jas, and I tried not to let her know that anything was wrong, not wanting to ruin her moment. I thought I'd been doing a good job, until she said, “So out with it.”

“With what?”

“With whatever's going on between you and Alex.” I froze, shocked that she'd seen through me so easily. “And don't try to pretend there's nothing wrong,” she said quickly, anticipating exactly what I was going to do. “I know full well that something's up. Every time I've mentioned his name, you've
been conspicuously silent.”

I thought about it for a second, and decided I might as well get it out of the way now. “We've broken up. And I don't want to talk about it.”

Jas swore under her breath. “Let me guess—he cheated on you, the rotten bastard.”

It was a fair guess, and I didn't want to deny it and risk her prying further, so I just said, “It's over. That's all I'm saying.” That left it sufficiently ambiguous for Jas to draw her own conclusions.

“Oh, babes.” Her heartfelt sigh said everything. “I can't believe it. I know Alex could always be a bit wild, but I genuinely thought he'd changed for you. I guess what they say about a leopard and its spots is right, eh?”

I agreed that it was, and then switched the conversation back to her wedding plans. She seemed to get the message that I wanted to talk about something else, and resumed gushing about dresses and venues and guest lists. I listened carefully, trying to match her enthusiasm, and hoping that it would fill the hollow feeling in my stomach.

* * *

“Nina?” I was leaving work the following evening when I heard Alex's voice. I did a double-take when I saw him. He looked terrible—he was pale and unshaven, his eyes red and hollow. He seemed thinner, too, his usually strapping body a
little hunched, as though he hadn't eaten. He stood a safe distance away from me, as though he wasn't sure how I'd react to him being there. “Can we talk?”

It was three days since I'd found out. He'd called and left dozens of messages on my phone, none of which I'd returned. But I'd known we'd have to discuss everything at some point. Now seemed as good a time as any.