Original Sin (78 page)

‘Are you a sight for sore eyes,’ he said softly, touching her cheek.

‘You’re here?’ she said groggily, struggling back on the pillows. It was the 28th of December. David should have arrived the previous night, but he had phoned to tell her he had to fly to Washington en route to attend some urgent meeting about his new show.

‘Flew straight back from DC,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t seen you all week, baby, but I figured it was better to get all the meetings out of the way so they won’t be disturbing us on honeymoon.’

‘Which they will … ’ she said with a slow smile.

‘Which they will
not
,’ he said firmly, sliding over to lie next to her.

‘They’d better not,’ she grinned, putting her arms around his neck. ‘I want you all to myself.

‘Well here I am,’ he said, kissing her neck and bare shoulders. Brooke giggled, feeling herself relax with the touch of his lips against her skin. After the emotional roller–coaster of the last few days, she had been frantic about how she would feel about David when they finally came face to face. Would her guilt overtake her? Would she baulk at his touch? But as soon as her eyes met his, she felt such an enormous surge of relief and love that the memory of what had happened with Matt just melted away. She pulled him closer and beamed into their kiss. When she finally let him go, David sat up and pulled a piece of paper from the back of his trouser pocket.

‘Alessandro’s countdown,’ he said smiling. ‘Have you got one of these?’

She nodded, rolling her eyes. David dramatically cleared his throat and began reading aloud.

‘Meet pastor three p.m. Return to hotel to change four twenty p.m. Final debrief five thirty–five p.m. Rehearsal dinner seven thirty p.m.’

‘Well, he’s nothing if not organized,’ said Brooke. ‘He was having pink kittens you weren’t here yesterday.’

‘Well, there’s something he missed out from the list.’

Brooke looked puzzled. ‘I don’t think we’re going to squeeze much else into today,’ she said.

‘One last date,’ said David, looking more serious.

‘A last date?’ said Brooke, her heart beating too fast.
Last date as in he is going to finish with me?

‘I was hoping we could slip off after the dinner,’ said David. ‘Just me and you. I want one last date with my girlfriend before she becomes my wife.’

She started laughing, taking in big gulps of air.

‘One last date,’ she said. ‘Yes, that sounds lovely.’ And she threw back the sheet and pulled him into the bed.

*

In an emperor–sized bed in an executive suite at the Pelicano hotel, Sean Asgill rolled over, panting. Finally, he turned back towards Tess and grinned.

‘Come back with me,’ he said.

Tess laughed and propped her arm behind her head. ‘Can we talk about it after the wedding?’ she asked, avoiding his eyes.

‘So you mean you want to take things slow?’ said Sean, resting his head up on his elbow.

‘Maybe.’

He bent over and took her nipple between his lips, gently pulling on it, then running his tongue around it in lazy swirls.

‘You mean slow like this?’

Tess gasped.

On her bedside cabinet, her mobile suddenly began to buzz.

‘Leave it,’ came Sean’s muffled voice.

‘Can’t,’ she said, pulling away and planting a kiss on the top of his head. ‘We’ve got guests arriving from three continents, and hundreds of media outlets baying.’

She swung her legs out of bed and snatched up the phone.

‘Ouch,’ said Sean with mock hurt. ‘I never had you pegged as the love ’em and leave ’em sort.’

‘Only when I’ve got important things to do,’ she laughed, sliding out of bed. She ran into the bathroom and jumped under the shower, still smiling as she enjoyed the cool water running all over her sticky body.

‘Only when I’ve got important things to do … ’ she repeated softly to herself. There was something about that phrase that was ringing a bell in the back of her mind, something she had heard in the last few days that had been nagging at her, something which didn’t quite …

‘Oh my God!’ she whispered. Suddenly she knew why. The last piece of the puzzle slipped into place with a flash of such clarity that Tess cursed herself for not seeing it before. Shutting off the water, she jumped out of the cubicle, and rubbed a towel across her body vigorously.

Scrambling into a white T–shirt dress and flip–flops, she grabbed her mobile.

‘Hey sexy,’ called Sean from the bed, ‘see you here for lunch?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ she said distractedly, hurrying out of the room as she called Jemma. She glanced at the time on the phone’s screen, hoping that Jemma had arrived in Florida from Toronto.

‘Are you here yet?’ she asked anxiously as soon as her friend picked up.

‘I’m at the hotel. I called you ten minutes ago, didn’t you get my message?’ said Jemma. ‘I got in really late last night but didn’t want to disturb you.’

‘What room are you in?’

‘One of the cottages by the pool. The blue one at the end of the row.’

Tess ran down the stairwell, her flip–flops clattering against the marble floor. The door to the cottage was open and inside she could see Jemma sitting on the patio having breakfast under a gently fluttering palm tree.

‘Hey there you,’ said Jemma, clearly enjoying herself, ‘come and try these croissants, they’re amazing.’

Putting her finger to her lips, Tess glanced up and down the beach, then beckoned to Jemma to come back inside the cottage.

Frowning, Jemma pulled the patio door closed and followed Tess over to a white sofa under the ceiling fan.

‘You’ve found something out, haven’t you?’ said Jemma quietly, and Tess nodded.

‘What I’ve found out is that Meredith was having an affair with Olivia Martin.’

Jemma looked wide–eyed. ‘You’re kidding!’

‘It seems Olivia was trying to blackmail Meredith to keep quiet about their affair, which is why Mary–Ann Henner saw them arguing before the fireworks display.’

Jemma mulled it over. ‘How much was she blackmailing her for?’

‘Five thousand dollars a month,’ replied Tess. ‘That was a lot of money in the Sixties.’

‘So much for the broke, depressed Olivia theory, then. That certainly doesn’t sound like the mind–set of someone who was going to commit suicide a couple of hours later.’

Tess nodded. ‘Exactly what I thought, especially as Meredith didn’t cough up immediately. She says she asked her to wait and discuss it after she got back from her honeymoon, so all the more reason for Olivia to hang around.’

‘It could still have been an accident,’ said Jemma, distractedly brushing flakes of almond croissant from her shirt. ‘She was a boozer and a pill–popper, wasn’t she?’

Tess stared down at her fingers, deep in thought.

‘Have you got Mary–Ann Henner’s phone number?’ asked Tess.

‘Sure.’

Jemma was already scrolling through her BlackBerry. ‘What do you want me to ask her?’

‘Ask her who she had sex with in the rose garden on the night of Meredith and Howard’s wedding.’

Jemma winced in disbelief. ‘Come on, Tess. That’s a bit hardcore, even for someone as shameless as me.’

Tess had a firm look on her face.

‘You said Mary–Ann told you that she had sex with someone in the rose garden some time around eleven fifteen, right? Well that’s just around the time Olivia tried to blackmail Meredith, also in the rose garden,’ said Tess. She thought back to her visit to Riverview, how she and Lori, the assistant manager, had walked past the secluded garden around that time of night; how still and clear it had been; how she could hear every noise, from the crickets in the trees to a couple walking across the lawns to their room.

‘It was all go in the rose bushes that night,’ said Jemma, raising a shaped brow.

Tess didn’t smile. ‘Mary–Ann also said the guy she was with didn’t show up for the fireworks, which is when Lori Adams thought something might have happened to Olivia.’

Jemma was hesitating, her thumb over the ‘call’ button of her BlackBerry.

‘Just make the call, Jem,’ said Tess. ‘And put it on loudspeaker so I can hear.’

‘But what do you think she’s going to tell us?’

‘I think I know who was with Mary–Ann that evening,’ said Tess with conviction. ‘I think he heard Olivia’s threats and decided to shut her up.’

Jemma pulled a face, then made the call. ‘Wish me luck,’ she said.

Tess walked onto the balcony, leaving Jemma to speak to Mary–Ann, although she could hear both sides of the conversation.

‘Mary–Ann?’ said Jemma.

‘Yes?’

‘Er. Hi. Happy Christmas. It’s Jemma Davies, I came round a few days ago.’

‘Of course. How are you?’

She sounded buoyant, full of festive spirit.

‘Uh, Mary–Ann, I have to ask you a very personal question,’ said Jemma quickly.

‘Shoot,’ chuckled Mary–Ann, ‘you know me.’

‘It’s about the night of Howard Asgill’s wedding.’

‘Found out anything interesting?’

Jemma looked up at Tess.

‘I think we’re getting there.’

She paused and took a breath. ‘I need to know who it was you had sex with that night in the rose garden at Riverview.’

Mary–Ann chuckled again. ‘My, my. That
is
personal.’

‘Please, Mary–Ann.’

Mary–Ann paused and both Tess and Jemma could hear the sound of ice cubes clinking in a glass.

‘If you must know, it was Leonard Asgill. Meredith’s brother.’

Tess and Jemma exchanged a look.

‘Yeah, I know what you’re thinking,’ continued Mary–Ann. ‘Should have lost my cherry to my high–school sweetheart rather than a one–night stand at a wedding? But hormones don’t work like that, do they, darling? I’d been at Riverview for a couple of days before the wedding. Sorting things out for Howard, you know how it is. We’d gotten pretty friendly, me and Leonard, and gosh, he was so good looking. A real charmer.’

‘And did you leave the rose garden together?’ said Jemma, looking over to an anxious Tess.

‘No. I ran off when I heard someone coming into the garden,’ she laughed bitterly. ‘I didn’t want to get caught with the bride’s brother, for crying out loud. I was supposed to be working, not fucking.’

‘Thanks Mary–Ann,’ said Jemma awkwardly. ‘I didn’t mean to drag up old memories.’

Mary–Ann laughed again. ‘Memories are all I got left, sweetheart. You take care now.’

Jemma put down the receiver and looked at Tess, her mouth open.

‘Leonard,’ she whispered. ‘It was Leonard.’

Tess nodded. ‘I knew.’

*

The rehearsal dinner at the Pelicano hotel was beautiful. Alessandro had worked his magic, transforming the hotel’s orangery into a sophisticated yet intimate space. The eight round tables were simply covered with French brocade linens, and each had a centrepieces of pale yellow and white blooms cascading from a large cream vase. It was as understated as you could get considering the occasion. The seventy–five guests – family and close friends plus a smattering of celebrities and political dignitaries – had been served the finest wines from cut–glass crystal, and the menu offered the state’s finest produce: braised artichokes with fennel and lemon, fresh lobster and miniature key lime pies from Joe Stone Crab. When the coffee had been served, Wendell Billington stood to give a surprisingly heartfelt speech welcoming Brooke to the family, then Sean brought the house down with a story about the time Brooke, aged seven, had written a letter to Prince Charles proposing marriage. Ignoring his sister’s blushes, Sean revealed that the palace had been good enough to write back to politely decline on the grounds that HRH was already married to Princess Diana.

After the speeches, the French windows were opened and the party spilled out onto the hotel’s terrace and down into the tropical gardens. Excusing herself from Rose Billington, Brooke quietly slipped down the stairs and into the tropical gardens, finding a hidden nook surrounded by mango trees. She sat down on a cold stone bench and breathed in the warm evening air, enjoying a little time out, and pretending for just one minute she was plain old Brooke Asgill again. All evening she had enjoyed having people tell her she looked beautiful, fielding the wide–eyed enquiries about Nicholas’s long biscuit silk dress, but right now she needed a moment to sit and be still, to listen to the sea, smell the blossoms, to think for herself. Her heart sank a little as she heard footsteps on the path. She looked up, expecting to see David; he had been so wonderful all day, so solicitous, so kind, as if he understood that the wedding, however perfect, would be difficult for her, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if he had come to check she was okay. But it wasn’t David, it was Tess.

‘Oh hi Tess,’ she said, forcing a smile as Tess came to sit beside her.

‘Was everything okay in there?’ she asked.

Brooke sighed, knowing she couldn’t lie to her friend. Besides, she was the only one who knew the whole story about her and Matt. Well, most of it, anyway.