Blazing Obsession (3 page)
Authors: Dai Henley
Holding her in my arms with our cheeks brushing together, I couldn't have been happier. And I didn't care who knew it.
During the last record of the evening, a dreamy number, I kissed her neck. It felt the most natural thing to do. She didn't flinch.
I'd knocked back the best part of a bottle of wine, which led me to feel confident enough to suggest she came back to my place. Previously when I got into these situations, I chickened out â my fear of rejection kicked in. But this felt right.
Similarly intoxicated, she agreed.
Around one o'clock, most of the guests had left. We put on our coats and merged into London's still-hectic, crisp November evening.
I hailed a taxi and, in the darkness of the cab, the only illumination coming from the neon lights of the city, I squeezed Lynne's hand and got a squeeze back. I couldn't resist attempting another kiss. Lynne pushed me away, looking in the driver's mirror to see if he noticed.
“Later! Be patient,” she giggled. I returned to hand squeezing, willing the cab to jump the red lights.
As the lift zoomed up to the twenty-third floor of my apartment block, I couldn't contain myself any longer. I threw myself at her and kissed her passionately on the lips. We didn't release our clinch until the doors opened.
As we entered the penthouse, I flicked on the light switch. I'd bought the apartment a couple of years previously and asked an interior designer friend to advise me on decor. I spared no expense. A fabulous blend of contemporary-style interiors, magnificent lighting and colour schemes made coming home after a hard day's work a pleasure. The stunning night views over the Thames and Canary Wharf added to the effect.
Lynne spun around taking it in. “Wow!” she said. “What a place! Like something out of
Ideal Home.”
I caught her arm on the second spin and dragged her towards me, our lips colliding. Finally letting her go, I said, “Never mind the architecture. How about a night-cap?”
“Think I'd better have a coffee. I'm starting to slur my words. Do you have any decaf?”
“Sure. Make yourself comfortable.” I waved at the oatmeal leather settee as I went into the kitchen. “Be two minutes.”
As I topped up the percolator from the tap, she followed me into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around my midriff. I felt her head against my back.
Putting the percolator down on the kitchen worktop, I turned, and taking her face in both my hands, I kissed her fully on the lips again.
It was timeâ¦
*
“Would you like that coffee, now?” I'd already showered and thrown on a pair of boxer shorts and had a mug in each hand. Lynne laid half-asleep in my bed, partially covered by a sheet, a shapely leg dangling over the side.
“That'd be great.” She sat up, blinking, pulling the sheet around her body in embarrassment, holding it close with one hand. Given the intimacy we'd enjoyed all night it seemed incongruous. With her other hand, she attempted to sort out her dishevelled hair before reaching for the coffee mug.
“I didn't think you'd be seeing me like this. I must look a wreck!”
“Well, you're the best wreck I've seen⦠at least this morning.”
I slid next to her in bed. We both cupped our hands around our coffee mugs.
“What time is it?” she said.
“Around 10.30. Do you have to go?”
“No. It's my ex's turn to have Georgie this weekend. He'll bring him home about 4.30.”
“Good. What did you think about last night?”
“That's hardly etiquette, is it? Are you looking for marks out of ten?” A grin split her face.
“No! That's
not
what I meant. Did you enjoy the party?”
“Oh, yes, I haven't had such a good time in years. What a fantastic night! You've got great friends and I got on so well with Pat. We spoke for ages. Thinks a lot of you.”
I put my empty coffee mug down on the bedside table and said, “Fancy scrambled eggs and toast? It's my signature dish.”
“Love some.”
I nodded in the direction of the bathroom and said, “By the time you've showered and re-floated the wreck, it'll be ready.” She threw a pillow at me and giggled.
“I scored you a âten', but make that an âeight' now.”
Fifteen minutes later, she wandered into the kitchen shoeless, wearing my navy-blue dressing gown, which swamped her body, the sleeves hanging loosely over her hands. She'd re-applied her make-up and in the weak November sunlight filtering into the room, her face glowed.
After we'd breakfasted and dressed, we shared a slightly awkward silence. I sensed neither of us wanted to leave each other's company.
“Fancy a walk down the riverside?” I said.
“Sure. Fresh air would be great.”
As we strolled along, she put her arm through mine. I couldn't believe we'd only met six weeks earlier â it felt so natural.
We shared a late lunch in the
Fine Line
pub on the riverside at Fisherman's Walk.
As she toyed with the pasta on her plate she said, “What was life like with your ex?”
“Good⦠at first. But I realise now I caused the break-up. I worked all hours; I became obsessed with building my business. I thought I was doing the correct thing, you know, being the breadwinner and all that. I didn't give our relationship the priority it deserved. Silly of me, really.”
“Well you can hardly blame her for being upset, can you?”
“Oh, no, I don't blame her. Since the break-up, I've often asked myself whether I loved her enough. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, it does.”
“I always think if you love someone deeply, you'd move heaven and earth to please them.”
I glanced at my watch and remembered about Lynne's ex returning Georgie.
“Would you like me to take you home? It's four o'clock.”
“That would
not
be a good idea. Nick would be furious if he knew I'd seen another man.”
“What? I don't understand. He's your
ex-
husband. Does he expect you to live like a nun?”
“Listen, my life's complicated. To be honest, he's making my life hell.” She replaced a stray hair back behind her ear.
“Still causing problems?”
“Afraid so. I know it's right he should be able to spend time with his son. But he's not a good influence on Georgie. Nick pumps him for any information he can find about what I'm doing, where I'm going and who I'm seeing.” She looked defeated.
“He turns up all times of the night, slags me off and threatens me if I ever see another guy. I had to get a restraining order. But it's only a piece of paper. It's not police protection. He ignores it most of the time. It's pathetic!”
For the first time since we'd met, her eyes glistened. The self-confidence she'd displayed last night at the party and at my pad evaporated.
She reached inside her bag for a tissue. I leaned across and hugged her shoulder.
“If he knew about me spending the night with you, I don't know what he'd do.”
She drew a deep breath and, as she exhaled, said, “Sorry to get like this. I really enjoyed myself last night, you know. I'd forgotten how wonderful it is to be cared for and appreciated.”
“How did you get hooked up with Nick?”
“A question I often ask myself. I suppose he was the first guy who ever paid any attention to me. I thought the way he treated me was normal. And when Georgie came along, I felt trapped. Didn't want to do anything to upset our family.”
“But you divorced him.”
“I had to. It got so bad. His rants got worse, became more physical. I didn't want Georgie to see that. I surprised myself, having the strength to do it.”
“Sounds like you're not much better off now.”
“No, but at least I'm not having to put up with him every day of the week. And Georgie's not seeing us fight all the time.”
“That's true.”
I looked at my watch again and said, “Let me sort out a cab for you.”
I turned to her and said, “Are you going to the gym on Tuesday? I'd love to see again.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Thanks for a lovely time.”
Standing outside the pub, waiting to hail a cab, we kissed and hugged continuously. I hoped it would never arrive but it did. From the kerb side, I watched the taxi until it disappeared out of sight. The image of her woeful facial expression framed by the taxi's rear window remained in my head for a long time.
She'd be seeing Nick within the hour.
On the following Tuesday night, after working out, we met up in the gym's cafe.
As we sipped our Diet Cokes, a token of our fitness regimes, I said, “Everyone says how lovely you looked on Saturday night, how nice you are and what a great couple we'd make. Did you get any comments?”
“Oh, one or two, like, âI suppose you'll be up for promotion soon'. And, of course, the other managers told Bill about it. He's seen it all before. Thing is, all they know for sure is we sat down, had dinner and danced together. Big deal! I told them to get a life.”
I smiled and said, “Listen, Lynne⦠this may sound soppy, I know it's only been a matter of weeks butâ¦I think we're meant for each other. I dunno, it just feels right. I want to see more of you. In fact, don't laugh, but I think I'm a little bit in love with you.”
She didn't laugh, but feigned surprise, although I suspect she'd already guessed how I felt.
“James, I⦠I don't know what to say. I feel the same way⦠really I do. But there are too many problems.”
Using her fingers to emphasise each point, she said, “One, I have Georgie to think about. I don't know how he'd react. He loves his dad. Two, Nick'd go berserk if he knew there was another man in Georgie's life and three, the rumours and innuendo in the office can't be good for either of us, but especially for you.” She reached for her glass, took a sip and sat back in her chair.
I stared into her extraordinary eyes and said, “I don't have all the answers right now. But if you're happy to keep seeing me, I'll come up with something.”
“Oh, I don't know.”
“Well, for starters, I'd love to meet Georgie. See how we get on.”
“It's a big step. Georgie's bound to tell Nick, then there'll be trouble, believe me. He's a thug. I wouldn't wish that on you.”
I couldn't believe she allowed herself to be controlled in this way. I said, as sympathetically as I could, “Are you going to spend the rest of your life in dread of Nick? You and Georgie deserve better.” I leant forward and reached for her hand.
Pausing for a moment she said, “I know you're right, but it's difficult. Actually, I'd love you to meet my best friend, Alisha. We're very close.”
I smiled. “Sure. Is she going to run the rule over me?”
“Let's say I'd trust Alisha with my life.”
*
The following week, we chatted away at our usual seats in the cafe after working out in the gym. Pouring a Diet Coke into a glass, she said, “I had a long chat with Alisha last night. She thinks you're mad.”
“Perhaps I am.”
“But she agreed with you. I shouldn't let Nick dominate my life. She thinks you're too good to be true. She feels you
could
be my knight in shining armour, but wants to know if you've got any chinks. Can you make dinner, Thursday night?”
“Yes, of course.”
“What about the
Grapes
Pub in Limehouse Basin? About 7.30?”
“That's fine. What's Alisha like?”
“Oh, we've known each other forever. We're more than just great friends. She's more like the sister I never had, even though she's black and I'm white. I attended both her weddings and commiserated with both her divorces.”
“Did she have any kids?”
“Fortunately, no.”
“What does she think about your ex?”
“Nick's always been jealous of our friendship. There's no love lost between them.”
“What does she feel about men, now?”
“Not a lot. She's had some awful experiences. Best not to get her started on the subject.”
“I'll avoid it, don't worry.”
She flashed a mocking smile. Wagging her finger under my nose, she said, “You'll have to do a lot to impress her, be warned!”
I felt like a schoolboy again.
*
They turned up at the bar just as I'd ordered a pint. Alisha, her short, black, lustrous hair framing a pretty, dark-skinned face with dark brown eyes, was an inch or two shorter than Lynne with a similar curvy figure.
She made a point of looking me up and down as if I was something the cat had brought in. Taking off her coat, she nodded at my pint glass.
“Taking on Dutch courage, are we?”
“Alisha, give him a break! Poor man's obviously nervous. You know what they're like.” Lynne winked at me, trying to lighten the mood.
Over dinner, I learnt that Alisha Alleyne worked as a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company based in the West End. Born to druggy parents in Trinidad, they'd divorced when she was five. Her grandparents thought she'd have a better life living in England. She had an aunt who'd married a wealthy white businessman living in Swiss Cottage and they'd brought her up.
When we got to the coffees, Lynne excused herself to visit the loo. Alisha leant towards me and said, “You know, Lynne's a special person. She's been a wonderful friend to me. Especially when I was going through my divorces. Despite her own problems, she was always there for me. I don't want to see her hurt anymore. She
deserves
a better life.”
“Look Alisha, I love her. I want to be with her all the time. I don't care what it takes. ”
“You've no idea what you're taking on. You'll have gathered by now her ex is a complete arsehole.” The waitress almost spilled the coffee as she topped up our cups.
“What does Georgie think about him?”
“Oh, he idolises him. Nick spoils him rotten. Makes it difficult for Lynne.”
“There must be a way of getting it sorted.”
Before she could answer, Lynne appeared at the table, looking anxious and flushed.
“You'll never believe who I bumped into in the bar on the way back from the loo?” she said, catching her breath.
“Oh, don't tell me!” Alisha said. “Not Nick?” Lynne nodded.
“He's drinking with a guy I've not seen before. I couldn't avoid him. He asked who I was with in the restaurant.”
Alisha said, “What did you say?”
“I didn't want him to cause a scene. I panicked. I said I was with you, Alisha⦠and your new boyfriend.” She closed her eyes tightly shut as if expecting a blow to the head.
“What!” Alisha exploded.
“Well, suppose he came in to check on me? You know what he's like.” Lynne trembled.
Standing up, I said, “Look, this is bizarre. He needs to know you're seeing me. What's the worst that can happen? He won't try anything on in a public place. It's time someone let him know his days of dominating you are over. I'm going to have a chat.”
Lynne said, “I don't think that's wise.”
Ignoring her, I made a move towards the door then realised I wouldn't recognise him. I didn't want to pick on the wrong guy. “Alisha, come with me. You can point him out.”
“Sure. This'll be interesting,” she said, with a mischievous gleam in her eye as she turned to Lynne, who had both her hands up covering her mouth.
He appeared older than his thirty-five years and shorter than I imagined. Good-looking, in a rugged kind of way, he had hooded eyebrows and a square jaw. He wore a black leather jacket and blue jeans reminiscent of the Jets gang members in
West Side Story
.
He stood at the bar smoking and talking to an overweight bald man with a neck the size of a night club bouncer â only the communication ear-piece was missing.
“Sorry to interrupt, but can I have a word?” Adrenaline coursed through my body. I felt light-headed.
“Who wants a word?” Nick said, glaring first at me, then at Alisha. “Oh, Alisha's new boyfriend, I assume.” He slurred his words and sneered as he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the counter. I noticed a tattoo in the shape of a snake encircling his wrist as he did so.
“Er⦠not exactly. I think there's been a misunderstanding. I'm seeing
Lynne,
not Alisha.”
A ten-second silence followed whilst he gazed down at the ground and took in what I'd said.
“And who the fuck are you, then?”
“My name's James and I've been seeing Lynne for a few weeks. I just thought as a matter of courtesy, you should know.”
“
As a matter of courtesy
,” he mimicked my words. “I don't do courtesy.”
His words and the way he spat them out put me on my guard. I guessed correctly. He looked away and then turned back, his clenched right fist swinging towards my face in a wide arc â fortunately too wide, giving me time to react before contact could be made.
Moving my head back out of the way as the punch grazed my chin, I grabbed his wrist and elbow with both my hands and using his momentum, I swung his arm up behind his back sharply. He yelped in pain. Now woefully off-balance, I kicked his feet from underneath him forcing him to the floor, pressing my knee on his back, squashing his face hard against the polished floorboards.
I felt the veins in my neck pumping blood.
I wondered what âBaldy' might do whilst my hands were full, but the landlord, sensing trouble, stepped in to restrain him. Lynne, who'd followed us into the bar, stood behind Alisha and pressed her face into Alisha's shoulder, not bearing to look.
“I want you all out of here. Now!” the landlord barked. I let go of Nick and he and âBaldy' slunk off towards the door. Nick stared at me, eyes bulging and yelled, “You'll be sorry you did that, you tosser!”
We waited for a few moments, giving them a chance to get away before the three of us put on our coats and went to
The Frigate
, another pub across the road.
After I'd bought brandies to settle our nerves, we retreated to a quiet corner.
“Well, how exciting!” Alisha said.
Lynne, still shaken, said, “I can't believe two grown men were fighting over me. It's so embarrassing. I don't know what Nick'll do now. He won't have liked me seeing him humiliated.”
Alisha said, “Well, as far as I'm concerned it's about time he got sorted out. He's alright bullying and threatening women, but the first time he's had to deal with a real man, he screws up.”
Turning to me, she said, “Where did you learn to look after yourself like that? I'm impressed.”
Not something which came easily to her, I thought.
“I went on a Martial Arts class for a few months when I was young. My dad thought it would be good for me.”
Lynne said, “You know he won't leave you alone now, don't you? He'll be like a wounded animal.” The brandy had settled her nerves a little.
“We'll have to handle it, Lynne, won't we? He's got to realise he can't go on like this. I think we've had enough excitement for one night, don't you? I'll rustle up a cab to get you both safely home. If he troubles you again, Lynne, you must let me know. OK?” She nodded weakly.
*
Over the next few days, the âNick' problem took up every one of my waking moments before I came up with an idea. I decided to meet him again once he'd cooled down and tell him my relationship with Lynne would have no effect on him seeing Georgie whenever he wanted to.
But given the circumstances of our first encounter, I felt I needed a back up plan in case he still didn't accept me being on the scene. I hoped I could use something in his past.
I called Tom Riley, my golf partner, who worked for a firm of lawyers specialising in criminal matters.
“Good of you to spend some time calling your old mate. Bet you couldn't drag yourself away from⦠er⦠what was her name? Lynne?”
“Yes. Actually, you could make yourself useful for once. I need a criminal check on someone. Can you help?”
“Sure. I've got my contacts. Give me the details.” I told him all I knew about Nick Burrows and he promised to get back to me as soon as possible.
Two days later he called me. “Did you know there's a court order restraining him from harassing a certain Lynne Burrows?”
“Yes, I know. It's not working. Anything else?”
“Yeah, he's got a criminal record; charged with affray in a pub three years ago and fined. There's a suspicion of drug dealing but the police don't have enough evidence to pin anything on him. I assume his ex is the same lovely Lynne who works for you?”
“Yes, he's still giving her a rough time. I'm hoping to find out something I could use to get him to back off.”
“If you're serious about this I can put you in touch with a contact of mine. He's got a personal surveillance business. It's a bit cloak and dagger, and bloody expensive, but he always delivers. We don't ask too many questions. A round-the-clock watch for a couple of weeks might throw up something.”
“Thanks, Tom. You're a pal.”
He gave me the number, which I called immediately and set up a meeting in my office on the first available day we were both free.
*
Roger Pendleton wasn't what I imagined. I had in mind someone wearing a dirty grey crumpled mackintosh, a trilby and several days' growth of beard.
Instead, a fit-looking fifty-year-old, over six feet tall with a military bearing sat opposite me in my office. He looked more like a hospital registrar with a smart navy suit, sober striped tie and polished shoes.
“I love these BMWs,” he said, wistfully staring out of my office into the showroom.
We engaged in small talk about the cars he'd owned. That's what I loved about my business. Everyone had a view about cars, the ones they loved and the ones they hated.
He produced a brochure which included an impressive CV. He used to be a senior officer in the Special Investigation Branch. His speciality was technical surveillance. He'd also reached the rank of Detective Inspector in the Metropolitan Police and spent a year on secondment working with the LAPD in Los Angeles, advising them on security matters. He said people usually referred to him as RP. It fitted.
He made notes as I explained that I wanted to get Burrows to stop harassing Lynne. I pointed out that what he'd hate most was losing contact with his son, Georgie. I passed on the information Tom had given me.
