Never Can Say Goodbye (37 page)

‘Thank you.’ Dexter snatched the papers away from them. ‘And goodbye.’

Thelma and Louise, still greedily sorting out the various notes and coins, didn’t even answer.

Dexter slammed the front door so hard behind them that flakes of green paint floated from it.

‘Oh my God.’ Frankie, her hair blowing wildly across her face, leaned against the Mercedes, gulping in the cold, wet air.
‘Oh, my God.’

Dexter, shaking with anger, slid his arms around her and held her close. ‘Bitches,’ he muttered. ‘Complete miserly avaricious
scumbag bitches!’

‘I can’t believe people can be that awful,’ Frankie mumbled into the shoulder of his soft leather jacket.

‘I can,’ Dexter said gruffly. ‘Anyway, we’ve got what we wanted. At least Ernie can have his funeral now, can’t he?’

Frankie nodded. ‘Yes. And that’s all that matters, really. Let’s get out of here. As far away as possible. And can you drive
home, please? I feel all shaky.’

‘No problem.’ He held her at arm’s length and smoothed her hair away from her face. ‘And anyway, we’re not going straight
home.’

‘Aren’t we?’ Frankie knew they really didn’t have any money left to do much else.

‘No, we’re not. I’m going to do something I should have done a long time ago. I’m going to tell you my equivalent of your
Joseph story, and then I’m going to show you why I had to leave Oxford.’

Dexter had driven carefully back down the M6, windscreen wipers on full blast, in a flurry of non-stop spray from the other
cars and lorries on the wet road. The sky was dark and threatening and the rain poured in a non-stop torrent, washing away
the last vestiges of the snow.

Frankie shivered despite the car’s very effective heater. ‘What an awful day.’

‘On all counts, yes.’ Dexter nodded.

They’d talked a lot about Thelma and Louise, they hadn’t said anything, yet, about his impending revelations.

Frankie stretched, knowing she had to know, even if it broke her heart, which it probably would. ‘OK, then. Tell me. About
Oxford.’

Dexter glanced across the car. ‘Mmm, I was just wondering where to start.’

‘The beginning’s usually good.’

‘I don’t think there was a beginning, not really – Oh, yes there was.’ He slowed down and tucked the Mercedes in
behind a large lorry in the left-hand lane. ‘My brother, Simon – he’s three years older than me – and I started our own business
in Oxford as soon as I left school. I think that’s where it really starts. We were both mad about cars, you see, big, luxury
cars.’

‘Like this one?’

Dexter nodded. ‘We leased one to start with, a classic Jaguar, and we had the idea that we’d offer a sort of luxury taxi service,
or chauffeur people to swish events, that sort of thing. Anyway, it took off slowly at first, the way new businesses do. But
gradually it started to do really well. We managed to buy our next two cars and register the business. We called it Dream
Drives.’

Frankie nodded. ‘Sounds good.’

‘Maybe a bit naff now, but we were pleased with it at the time. Anyway, Simon was always keen to make as much money as possible
in the shortest amount of time, but I thought we could be doing it differently – oh, still sticking to our original principles
of top-of-the-range taxi-driving, which is what it was really, but also maybe using the cars to take people who’d never known
much luxury or happiness, out for the day. At very cheap rates. Very cheap indeed. I could see it as a sort of loss leader
that gave happiness to people at the same time.’

‘Nice idea. But Simon didn’t agree with it?’

‘Simon thought I was mad.’ Deter laughed. ‘But he went along with it because we were raking in the cash on the posh company
rides, and he was happy by then to diversify into anything that paid anything at all. And it got us loads of good publicity
for the company, and even more business as a result. So, I did all of the cheap drives and Simon stuck to the luxury
executive corporate end of the market. We bought two more cars and employed two more drivers.’

‘Quite the entrepreneurs.’

‘We were.’ Dexter nodded. ‘And the two sides of the business worked really well for several years. We were the first firm
the corporates came to for days out – race meetings, Premiership football matches, all the prawn sandwich brigade stuff. We
had a great reputation. And by running the other side too, well, I felt that we weren’t just cosying up to the people who
could afford it, but we were also giving happiness to those who couldn’t. It was great to see their faces – especially the
kids – when I turned up on some really run-down housing estate in my chauffeur’s uniform and whisked them off to the cinema
or bowling or just into town. It gave them something special in their lives, which weren’t very special at all. I loved it.’

Frankie stared ahead at the pelting rain and the lorry’s blurred taillights as they joined the M42. ‘Yes, I can understand
that. So?’

‘So,’ Dexter said, ‘after a couple more years, still looking to expand the business, Simon bought a pink stretch-limo to hire
out for hen parties, and girly days and nights out, and then he employed Cindy to drive it.’

He was silent then, concentrating on the road ahead.

Pennies dropping like coins in an amusement arcade, Frankie glanced across at him. ‘And Cindy is – was – your Joseph equivalent?’

‘More or less, yes.’

‘The one you said you shouldn’t have fallen in love with?’

‘Yes.’

Frankie swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘OK, so you and
Simon were now running a really successful chauffeuring service on three levels, and … ?’

‘I was madly in love with Cindy. I’d had plenty of girlfriends before, but no one like Cindy. I’d never been head over heels
in love before. Like you with Joseph, I was simply blown away by her.’

Frankie decided there and then that she hated Cindy more than she ever hated anyone. Even more than Thelma and Louise. And
definitely more than Biddy or stupid Maisie Fairbrother.

‘So, it was the love story of the year, was it?’

‘Sadly not. Cindy liked me, and was my friend, but Cindy didn’t love me. Didn’t even fancy me. Cindy was in love with Simon.’

‘Right.’ Was Cindy
mad
? ‘And Simon?’

‘Was flattered, and fancied her, and, because he was wildly competitive and knew that I loved her, he married her.’

‘Oh, God.’ Frankie stared at him. ‘And what did you do?’

‘I was best man at their wedding.’ Dexter gave a short laugh. ‘And we all carried on working together and expanding the business,
and I dated more women than there were days in the year.’

Frankie frowned at the non-stop rain sheeting from the unrelenting sky. ‘So, that’s where you got the bad boy reputation from?’

‘It was well deserved.’ Dexter looked at her briefly. ‘I loved and left everyone. I behaved like a complete bastard as far
as women were concerned. You went one way – after Joseph you didn’t date anyone – I went the other. I had to show them, Simon
and Cindy, that I didn’t
care
.’

Frankie sighed. ‘When really you cared like hell? Oh, why is
life so complicated? So, that’s why you had to leave Oxford is it? Because you still loved Cindy, who was your sister-in-law,
and simply couldn’t bear to see her and Simon together?’

‘I wish it had been that simple.’ Dexter slowed the Mercedes down and indicated to leave the motorway.

‘Where are we going?’ Frankie frowned. ‘Are we taking the scenic route?’

Dexter nodded. ‘We’ll get back on to the M40 later. We’re not far from Oxford. I just need to do this.’

‘OK, fine by me. So, what happened next?’

‘Are you sure you really want to know?’

‘Absolutely, as long as you want me to know,’ Frankie said firmly, pretty sure she was just about to hear things that would
break her heart for ever. And far, far more painfully than Joseph Mason had ever done. ‘After all, you were a star listening
to my tale of woe. So, let me guess – you had an affair with Cindy? Your sister-in-law. And Simon found out and –?’

‘Again,’ Dexter sighed, ‘I wish it had been that simple. And Cindy would never have had an affair with me, anyway. She treated
me like a brother or a best mate. For her, there was no spark at all. She just didn’t feel like that about me.’

Cindy, Frankie decided, was definitely certifiably insane.

‘No, it wasn’t Cindy,’ Dexter continued. ‘It was something else entirely. You see, by this time Dream Drives was a pretty
substantial business, and we had a fleet of cars and some really good blokes working for us. It was all going amazingly well.
I bought a house. Simon and Cindy bought a mini-mansion and all the other trappings. We all lived really well. Then Cindy
and Simon took a week off to go on holiday … ’

Frankie had no idea where this was leading so she said nothing.

‘And,’ Dexter continued, ‘I thought it might be a good opportunity to get the accountant in to go through the books – Simon
handled all the finances, all the preparation of the books for the accountant and the Inland Revenue so I’d never really looked
at them before – because I was thinking maybe we could sort of franchise the idea of the chauffeur-driven cars for the less
well off and hopefully turn that into a spin-off. And I didn’t want Simon dissing the idea out of hand. And, well, to cut
to the chase, the accountant left me the figures to look at, and I discovered that someone had been creaming off money for
years.’

‘
Cindy
?’

Dexter shook his head. ‘No way. I knew it wasn’t Cindy. But it was a huge swindle. Really huge. We’re talking hundreds of
thousands. All our corporate clients had been paying through the nose for trips and services that hadn’t existed, for years.’

‘Jesus.’

‘Exactly.’ Dexter was very pale. ‘And I just knew it was how Simon was funding his Richard Branson-type lifestyle. I just
knew it. And I felt so sick. So, when they came back from their holiday, I tackled him.’

‘Bloody hell.’ Frankie shook her head. ‘And did he admit it?’

‘No. Not in so many words. Well, not at first, anyway. But he went completely berserk. We had a fight. Big time. And he said
I should have kept my nose out and everything would have been all right and that he was only taking money from the big customers
who could afford it.’

‘And he thought that was OK?’

‘Apparently. And Simon just kept on saying I had to keep my mouth shut, and denying that it could hurt anyone. But it was
my business too, you see, and I’d worked so hard to make it
successful for years. And, despite my bad reputation –’ he smiled gently at her ‘– I am basically a very straight bloke. I
loathe dishonesty. Simon wasn’t just ripping off the corporates by his swindle, indirectly he was also cheating me and the
less-privileged customers who’d enjoyed the service for so long. And because Simon had been greedy and dishonest, I knew it
was only a matter of time before we were investigated, then the whole business was going to fold, and I couldn’t let that
happen.’

‘So?’

‘So I begged him to admit everything, to come clean. The accountant must have known the figures were wrong, so it was only
a matter of time before the Inland Revenue found out, and so it would be much better for Simon to admit he’d made a mistake
with his figures and offer to repay, than to be under investigation and for us to lose everything.’

‘And he wouldn’t?’

‘No. He just kept saying as long as I kept schtum then it would all go away. But I knew it wouldn’t. And Dream Drives was
really, really important to me and I wanted to save it.’

‘And Cindy? What did she know about all this?’

‘Nothing. That was one thing Simon and I agreed on. That Cindy – and none of our employees – should ever get wind of it. Oh,
Cindy knew we’d had a major falling-out, but she didn’t know why. And we didn’t tell her.’

‘So?’

‘When it became clear that Simon had no intention of confessing, and every intention of carrying on his scam, I gave him umpteen
chances to change his mind but he wouldn’t, so then I went to the police, and told them. And Simon was arrested and charged
with fraud.’

‘Bloody hell. I bet that went down well.’

‘It completely ballsed up everything. And then –’ Dexter swallowed as they turned into the driveway of a large country house
‘– it got worse.’

Frankie frowned at the house. There were lights spilling in warm welcome from all the windows. What on earth were they doing
here? Was it a hotel? Had they stopped for dinner? It was dark now, and she was hungry, but somehow she’d imagined they’d
go straight back to Kingston Dapple. Maybe Dexter felt he needed to take a break after all the awfulness.

‘Simon was let out on bail, pending inquiries.’ Dexter pulled the Mercedes to a halt behind a row of cars. ‘And he came to
find me, furiously angry, and said he knew I’d reported him.’

‘Well, yes I suppose he would have reached that conclusion.’ Dexter got out of the car and opened the door for her. ‘This
won’t take long. We’d better hurry – it’s too wet to hang around outside.’

Frankie stared doubtfully at the huge, beautiful sprawling house. Suddenly swamped by foreboding, a niggle of fear shivered
inside her. She had an awful feeling that this house was immensely important to Dexter and to the secrets of his past. She
was convinced now that something horrid awaited her inside.

‘Where are we? Is this a hotel? Are we eating here?’ Frankie looked at him hopefully. ‘I’ve got my credit card, but no cash
at all. Bloody Thelma and Louise had all my cash.’

‘You won’t need any money, it’s not a hotel, and, no, we’re not stopping long.’ Dexter took her hand, and heads down and feet
scrunching on wet gravel, they hurried through the icy wind and rain towards the doorway.

‘Then what exactly are we doing?’ Frankie shook raindrops from her hair as they stood in the gorgeously warm and luxurious
foyer, looking around in astonishment. ‘Is this place run by friends of yours or something? Or is it a private house? Do you
have landed gentry chums you haven’t mentioned? Sorry, Dexter, I’m very confused now.’