Guilty Feet (19 page)

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Authors: Kelly Harte

BOOK: Guilty Feet
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‘And have you given any further thought to that other little thing we talked about?’

I couldn’t spell out what I meant because I didn’t want Cass thinking that she too might be entitled to a share of the business, so unless Sid wanted a gooseberry along for the evening his comprehension skills had better be in good working order. I was feeling a little bit ruthless, if the truth be known, which wasn’t like me at all.

‘Is five per cent OK with you?’ he said, and even in the darkness I could see that he was blanching a little.

I hadn’t even considered an actual figure but five per cent of what could possibly turn out to be a successful business sounded good to me. Especially as I had nothing to lose, so I nodded accordingly.

‘We’ll firm things up on Monday,’ he added, and as my spirits were at soaring point now I did what was expected of me. I made my excuses.

‘I hope neither of you minds very much, but I’ve got work tomorrow,’ I said, and then
they
did what was expected of
them
. They accepted my excuses with an almost embarrassing amount of feigned regret.

***

Libby went straight to Dan’s flat when she got back. He was expecting her, after all.

He’d suggested himself that they got together on Friday night. As
friends
.

She hadn’t spoken to him in a couple of days—not since he’d discovered his break-in.

He looked tired when he opened the door.

‘Aisling told me what happened and I wondered what the damage was,’ she said.

He let her in, and she followed him through to the living room. There were dozens of CD cases piled on the coffee table, and she sighed in sympathy.

‘That’s terrible,’ she said. ‘How many have been broken?’

‘A hundred or so,’ he said wearily as he slumped into the armchair.

She looked around the room for a sign of the scarf, but she couldn’t see it.

‘Any idea who might have done it?’ she said.

He shook his head.

‘No clues?’

He shook it again.

This was getting annoying. The scarf was gone from the arm of the sofa, where she’d left it, and the very fact that he wasn’t mentioning it meant that he knew exactly whom it belonged to.

‘Well, I have,’ she said, as she sat on the sofa. She had hoped that Aisling would have said something by now, but she couldn’t wait any longer. ‘And I’m afraid that it might have been my fault.’

He looked puzzled, but he still didn’t speak.

‘I spoke to Joanna on Monday evening, and I’m sorry but I mentioned that we—’ she shrugged ‘—that we’d spent the night together.’

His eyes opened wide in what looked like horror.

‘Why the hell did you do that?’

‘Because it was true, of course,’ she said reasonably. ‘And I didn’t want her finding out from someone else.’ She sighed. ‘I thought I was doing the right thing.’

‘And you think she did this—’ he held his hand out in the direction of the smashed CDs ‘—because of that?’

‘It’s possible,’ she said.

He sat up straight in his seat.

‘But why would she do it when she’s happy with someone else?’

Damn, Libby thought. She’d forgotten she’d told him that.

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘It’s only a suggestion, and maybe I’m wrong, but it does seem quite a coincidence.’

He looked thoughtful as he turned this over in his mind, then he sighed.

‘I dunno,’ he said. ‘It just feels wrong. I know Jo pretty well, and I don’t think it’s something she’d do.’

Libby could see he needed more convincing—but not just now, she thought.

‘Have you eaten yet?’ she said, changing the subject. He looked dazed. ‘I’ve been too busy.’

‘Well, why don’t you have a shower, relax a bit, and I’ll cook you something.’

‘I can’t ask you to do that,’ he said, but she could tell by his tone that he wouldn’t take much persuasion.

‘No trouble,’ she said with a smile, ‘and no strings either.’

He looked uncertain for a moment, then shrugged. ‘Well, I was thinking of having a bath,’ he said, ‘and I wouldn’t say no to beans on toast.’

She stood up and did her motherly thing.

‘Off you go, then,’ she said, flapping her hands. ‘I’ll just pop up to my flat and get what we need, and if I leave the latch on your door I can let myself in again.’

It was just as she walked back into the flat ten minutes later that the telephone started ringing. Dan had put a CD on before he’d got into the bath, and since he obviously couldn’t hear it ring Libby answered it herself.

***

I jumped straight under a hot shower when I got back, and after wrapping myself in a couple of bath towels I made some tea and thought about my conversation with Aisling Carter. By now I’d consigned my mother’s situation to the back of my mind. I couldn’t cope with too many things going on at once—and besides, when all was said and done, at the end of the day, in the final analysis, the problem was hers, not mine. I

knew in my heart that it didn’t really work that way, especially with my particular

mother, but I managed to convince myself that it was so for the time being.

So what conclusion had this new information led me to?

I asked myself reasonably as I tucked my feet under my bottom on the sofa and sipped my tea.

From what I had learnt, it would appear that Libby was a scheming bitch who had simply wanted her evil way with Dan. And I, like a fool, had trusted her. Not that it had done her very much good, as it turned out. But then it hadn’t done me much good either, come to think of it. Because I’d believed everything she’d said I’d ended up half crazed with jealousy. This in turn had led to the invention of Sarah, whom Dan seemed to be getting quite fond of. And, just to add to the mess, it was just possible that Dan believed I had broken into his flat in a fit of revenge.

Aisling might well have said that he didn’t think that, but if Libby thought it then she might just convince him I had. She certainly seemed to have it in for me, and I knew better than most just how convincing she could be when she wanted.

The sensible thing would be just to phone him. Explain I’d met Aisling, tell him what she’d told me, and that I was completely innocent. After all, he
should
know that Libby was being so deceitful, I reasoned.

So I did it quickly, before I had time to change my mind. I picked up the phone and dialled Dan’s number, which I still had stored in my memory.

It rang four times before the connection was made. ‘Hello?’ a familiar female voice said, and I think I gasped just before I slammed the receiver back in its cradle.

Libby had answered Dan’s telephone.

I went straight to bed after that, and lay awake for a very long time until I heard my father come in. He was humming quietly to himself as he got ready for bed, and it occurred to me that he too would soon be in for a great big shock.

I waited till I could hear him snoring, then I got out of bed again and turned on my computer. I knew what I needed to know, and after hours of deliberation I’d come to the conclusion that there was only one way of getting the answer.

Dear Dan

I’ve been thinking about what you said about my ex, and I was wondering if you are really so sure that it’s over with yours.

Sarah

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

It was nearly one a.m., and Dan was just cleaning his teeth in readiness for bed when he heard a heavy knock on his door. Libby had left ages ago, soon after ten, and then he’d started making a list of the CDs that would need to be replaced when he could afford it. Luckily, quite a few of those broken didn’t matter very much to him, but there were some—about thirty or so—that he couldn’t really imagine living without.

He was glad to say that it was beginning to look as if Libby would not be a problem after all. And, although he’d been really pissed off with her at first—for talking to Jo, for telling her what had happened between them—he could see now that he only had himself to blame for that. They’d talked about things over beans on toast, about Jo in particular, and Libby had made a very good point.

‘Is there anything that really bothered her while you were still together?’ she’d asked him, frowning.

‘Everything seemed to bother her near the end,’ he answered ruefully. He wouldn’t normally talk about his relationship with Jo to anyone else but his mother, maybe, but Libby was involved, in a way. And she was a very good listener. ‘But especially the music, I suppose. She said that I thought more about it than I did about her.’

Libby nodded her head sagely. ‘Then I’m sorry, Dan, but what better way to get back at you than through your music?’ She shrugged. ‘It’s what some women do, I’m afraid. They hit out where they think it will hurt the most.’

She hadn’t said anything else; she hadn’t needed to. She was obviously convinced that it must have been Jo, and she didn’t even know about the scarf. She’d left soon after that and, glad as he was that she really did appear happy just to be friends, he hoped very much that it wasn’t her back at the door. It seemed unlikely, at this time of night, but he couldn’t think who else it could be.

He was still holding his toothbrush when he opened the door.

‘What the hell are you two doing here?’ he said, frowning at Aisling and Steve.

‘Nice welcome!’ said Aisling.

She nudged past him, and Steve grinned at Dan as they followed her into the living room.

‘I’ve come to inspect the damage,’ Steve said. He gave a long, low whistle as he looked at the piles of broken CDs still there on the coffee table. ‘Good job you’ll be earning soon from that book of yours, because I’ll lay odds that you’re not insured.’

Dan shrugged, and when Aisling flopped on the sofa he rolled his eyes.

‘Who are you supposed to be?’ he said wryly. ‘Mother Christmas?’

‘No need to be rude,’ she said breezily. ‘This is a very expensive designer number, if you must know.’ She frowned at his crumpled T-shirt and jeans. ‘And at least I don’t look as if I’ve slept in my clothes.’

‘Got anything to drink?’ Steve wanted to know.

‘I doubt it,’ Dan said. ‘Looks like you’ve had plenty already,’ he said to Aisling, when Steve headed towards the kitchen to look for himself.

‘That’s not very polite,’ she said haughtily, then she patted the seat next to her.

‘Go and get rid of that disgusting toothbrush, and then sit down here and talk to me.’

Dan did as he was told, and when he returned from the bathroom he found Steve pouring a yellow substance into three glasses. It was some cheap Spanish liqueur in a knobbly bottle that someone—he couldn’t remember who—had brought back from holiday years ago and had been hanging around ever since.

‘Not for me, thanks,’ he said. ‘And don’t blame me if it makes you ill.’

‘It was all I could find,’ Steve said. ‘I expect you’ve hidden the decent stuff.’

Dan sat down next to Aisling, as he’d been instructed. ‘So,’ Dan said. ‘What have you been up to tonight?’

‘We went to a new bar,’ Aisling said as she took a half-filled glass from Steve. ‘And guess who was there?’ Her eyes were glinting mischievously.

Dan took a stab. ‘Arnold Schwarzenegger?’

Aisling shook her head, as if the suggestion had at least been half-sensible. But she obviously didn’t want to hear any more wild guesses.

‘Your ex!’ she said, fixing her eyes firmly on Dan.

‘She looked great,’ said Steve. ‘Although she didn’t hang around too long.’

‘You’re talking about Jo, I take it,’ Dan said, and as he said it he could feel his pulse quicken.

‘I introduced her to Jamie Astin, and he asked me later for her number. He seemed quite taken with her,’ Aisling added in a bewildered manner.

‘Jamie Astin?’ Dan said, frowning.

‘Don’t pretend you haven’t heard of him,’ Aisling said scornfully. ‘He had a number one hit three months ago.’

‘Of course I know who he is,’ Dan said. ‘I just didn’t know you were acquainted with him.’

‘I’m acquainted with lots of people, sweetie, though I’m not sure you entirely believe that.’

‘Was she with anyone?’ he found himself asking.

‘Jo?’

He nodded.

‘Didn’t see anyone.’ Steve said. He took a sip of the yellow liqueur and shuddered. ‘That’s disgusting,’ he said. ‘It’s tastes like something you’d put in an engine.’

‘But she did rush off,’ Aisling said, picking up where Steve left off. ‘She said there was someone waiting outside—and it must have been important, with Jamie around!’

Dan sighed, picturing Jo with some mysterious man. He thought for a moment, and although he hadn’t intended saying anything now that she’d been brought into the conversation it seemed the natural thing to do.

‘Libby said she thinks it might have been Jo who did all this.’ He tilted his head towards the stacks of broken CDs.

‘Ah,’ Aisling said with nod. ‘I wondered when she’d get round to that.’ She glanced at Steve, and he nodded too.

Dan looked at both of them curiously. ‘Am I missing something?’ he said.

Aisling smelled the liquid in her glass and shuddered as well. She handed the glass to Dan, who found a place for it on the table.

‘I’ve been telling Steve about our conversation,’ she said. ‘And he thought I should tell you.’

‘Your conversation with whom?’

‘With Jo, of course. I met her in the cloakroom and we talked for ages.’

Dan slumped back on the sofa and listened to the brief gist of their exchange.

He let out a long sigh when she’d finished talking.

‘So let’s get his straight,’ he said. ‘You’re saying that Libby told her a pack of lies about me and you?’

Aisling looked over at Steve apologetically.

‘Well, I did fancy him for a while—but that all changed when I met you, darling.’ She put her fingers to her lips and blew him a kiss, and then she turned back to Dan.

‘My guess is that she did it because she wanted to make damn sure that Jo didn’t call you.’

‘Because she didn’t want you getting back together again,’ Steve put in.

‘So that she could have her wicked way with you herself,’ Aisling said with a grin.

Dan shook his head. ‘I can’t believe it. It’s just
so
...
weird
.

‘Not necessarily.’ Aisling shrugged. ‘All’s fair in love and war, and all that baloney. Though I think she went a bit far when she tried to blame the break-in on Jo.’

‘So you don’t think she did that?’ Dan said thoughtfully.

She shook her head. ‘She said she didn’t, and I believe her.’

‘You told her about it?’

‘Of course.’

Dan rubbed his forehead. He thought for a moment, and then got up and went to his bedroom. When he returned he had Jo’s Burberry scarf in his hand.

‘Then how do you think this got here?’ he said.

Steve and Aisling looked at one another again and frowned.

‘Are you saying it’s Jo’s?’ asked Steve.

‘I’m almost certain it is, and I found in here that night I got back to the flat.’

‘A bit careless of her to leave it behind,’ Aisling said.

‘I know, but how else could it have got here?’

Aisling chewed her lip for a moment. ‘Maybe someone planted it here to make it look like Jo. Maybe Libby did it?’

‘This is a bit of a turnaround,’ Dan said, looking puzzled. ‘I thought you and Libby were the best of buddies these days.’

‘That was before I knew she’d told lies about me,’ she answered indignantly. ‘And before she left me hanging around in the middle of Leeds for hours on end. She was supposed to meet up with me when I’d spoken to her would-be buyer, but he didn’t show and she disappeared.’

Dan thought about this, then shook his head with a sigh.

‘She might have inconvenienced you,’ he said wryly, ‘and, OK, she’s clearly a liar, but that doesn’t automatically mean she did all this damage. And as for planting Jo’s scarf—well, I’m sorry, but that does sound just a little bit too far-fetched.’

‘Maybe,’ Steve said, frowning again, ‘but Libby has caused a lot of trouble. If she hadn’t interfered maybe you and Jo would have got back together.’

‘Maybe we weren’t meant to get back together.’

He looked at Aisling, hopeful that she might put up some further argument in Jo’s defence, but she didn’t. She didn’t say anything else on the subject at all.

Having given up on the Spanish liqueur, they left the flat soon afterwards, and Dan, although it was nearly two o’clock when he went to his bedroom, turned on his computer. There was a message from Sarah waiting for him and he responded to it immediately.

Dear Sarah

Until recently I wasn’t sure it was really over. But I am now. You still haven’t answered my question, though...

Dan

* * *

God, I was furious when I read that e-mail after crawling out of bed at seven a.m. Because, although poor Sarah would have been mystified by that response, I knew exactly what it meant.

As soon as Libby answered the phone I guessed what had happened. I could picture the sneaky, scheming…vandal—who had almost certainly broken into his flat herself, for whatever crazy reason, who may or may not have had sex with Dan but had obviously not given up on becoming more than just
friends
with him—telling him anything she liked about me, and the sucker believing every word.

God, men could be stupid.

I thought about ringing him again, of giving him hell, but I was afraid that he wouldn’t listen. Libby had clearly done a very good job on him, and I was the baddy now, the wicked, vindictive ex, and anything I had to say was not to be trusted.

I sat there for ages, looking at that brief message, and I knew it should be Libby that I was angry with. And I was—but I was angrier still with Dan. For thinking so badly of me, for allowing himself to be conned by such a conniving cow. I thought and I thought, and then, at about eight o’clock, when I heard my dad moving about in the living room, I wrote a reply from Sarah.

Dear Dan

I’m sorry to hear that.

I presume the unanswered question you refer to is whether or not I think that it’s completely over with my ex. Well, yes, it definitely is. I recently found out what a low opinion he has of me and I’ve decided the time has come to move on.

I’m starting with a trip up to Leeds, and I’d like to meet up with you if you’re free this evening...? Time’s a bit tight, and I have to leave here pretty soon, but I’ll be at a club called Zoot, say around ten o’clock? I’ll hang about the bar area for a while, in case you can make it, and I’ll be wearing red so that I stand out dangerously...

Here’s hoping, then.

Sarah

‘Ha!’ I said aloud as I sent it. I felt warm all over with wicked pleasure as I imagined him reading the message. I felt sure that he’d go—that he wouldn’t be able to resist it. My only regret was that I wouldn’t be there to witness him being stood up.

Which is when I had my next bright idea.

It was still pretty early for making calls, but it couldn’t be helped. I went into my list of business contacts on the laptop, and took a note of a number.

I rang it quickly, before I lost my nerve.

‘Tim!’ I said brightly. ‘I hope you don’t mind me ringing your mobile at the crack of dawn, but I was just wondering if…’

I didn’t have to wonder for long. He couldn’t have been more pleased to hear from me, apparently. And when I suggested a night at Zoot, he suggested dinner first. It was that easy.

‘You look cheerful,’ my father said when I left the bedroom. I was dressed now, and I’d made an effort with my make-up to reflect my sparkling new mood.

‘I am,’ I said. ‘And what about you?’ I knew the answer to my question already. He looked positively radiant, if it’s possible for men to look that way. He was sitting on the unmade sofa bed in his striped pyjamas. Unlike me, he didn’t have a job to go to today.

‘She’s a wonderful woman,’ he said.

I poured tea from the pot he had made and noted that it was Earl Grey, not the usual stuff—a sure sign that Dad was celebrating life.

I stood by the window and let him prattle on for a while about the great evening they’d had. I wasn’t really listening that hard, but when he mentioned his plans to take Giovanna to see
The
Pirates
of
Penzance
in two weeks’ time I suddenly remembered my Gilbert and Sullivan-loving mother. Bugger! How could I possibly have forgotten her latest bombshell?

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