The Dead Dog Day (25 page)

‘Ouch!' she whined. ‘Be careful, idiot! How am I supposed to concentrate with you tugging at me like that? Where's Sherry today, anyway?'

Ben said nothing. Sighing loudly, Alice picked up a red notebook and started to flick through the pages, pausing every now and again to mouth questions she'd obviously written in advance for today's big interviews.

Cora raised her eyes heavenwards and exchanged smirks with Danny, who was putting the finishing touches to her blusher.

‘So Danny – any gossip? You know, other than that in the trashy mags?'

‘Oh, Cora. I could tell you, I'd love to tell you, you know that, but then I really would have to kill you. A make-up artist never …'

‘Er … Cora. You're so clever – what does quant … em … quantit … hang on … quantitative easing mean again?' interrupted Alice, smiling sweetly over her shoulder.

Astounded, Cora whipped her white cape off and stood up. Seriously – did Alice really think she was going to help her now, after the little bitch-fest she'd just listened to? What on earth was wrong with the girl?

‘Thanks, Danny. That looks great, you're a star,' she said, and headed for the door.

‘Cora! Did you not hear me?' Alice's voice was so piercing Cora half expected dogs to rush into the room.

‘Bye Danny – Ben,' she said cheerfully, not looking at Alice.

‘Oh, I see!' the newsreader thundered. ‘Very funny. HILARIOUS.'

The room was suddenly quiet, all eyes on Alice and Cora.

Cora stood in the doorway, waiting.

Alice paused for a moment, and when she spoke her voice was quiet and pure ice.

‘I'm warning you, Cora – ignore me at your peril. People who ignore me live to regret it.'

She stared at her rival with steely blue eyes, and unexpectedly a chill ran through Cora. Wow, she thought. She can actually be really scary when she wants to be. Transfixed, she gazed back at Alice for a long moment, then dragged her eyes away and left the room.

‘And then he – or she – just ran around the corner and disappeared. And that's it – well, for now, anyway.'

‘And at no stage have any of these people talked to you, tried to make contact in any way?' Adam tapped his pen thoughtfully against his coffee mug as he listened. Cora definitely sounded nervous, and he thought she was unlikely to be the type to
imagine
somebody was following her, but it didn't sound like she'd actually been in any danger at any point. He wasn't sure there was much he could do.

‘Well – no. I mean, I've only actually
seen
the person once, that last time. The previous times it was more like … well, shadows, or movements. Or a feeling that someone was there. I know it sounds stupid.'

‘No, no, not at all. Look, Cora, all I can say for now is keep your wits about you. Try not to walk around on your own, especially at night. And if at any point you're actually threatened, or feel in real danger, call 999 straight away, OK? But try not to worry. It's a stressful time, what with your boss's murder and all that's happened since. Try and relax, alright?'

‘Yes, OK. Thanks, Adam.'

Cora ended the call, feeling only slightly reassured. She could tell the police officer was a little sceptical, and who would blame him? She tossed her mobile into her handbag on the passenger seat and started her engine. As she crawled along the South Bank, her mind turned for the first time in days to the whole Justin mystery. She rubbed her throbbing brow, steering with one hand. It was beyond her. The hanging around outside the building, the fleeing to Spain, the weird messages – and especially the last one.

Stuck for what seemed an age at a red light, she picked up her phone again and flicked through her Twitter feed to her direct messages. She clicked on the last one from Justin.

@a-friend
@CoraBaxterMLive Cora, I got your msg. But a warning for you. Be very careful. Watch your back.

She looked at the date. The fifteenth of January. Today was the fifth of February, so she hadn't heard from him in nearly three weeks. Three weeks. She did some calculations in her head. She was pretty certain that the first time she'd thought someone was watching her was a few days after Justin's message. Could it be him? Could he be back in the country? But surely he'd get in touch, not just hang around in the dark scaring her? And what exactly was she supposed to be careful about? It made no sense.

‘None of it makes
any bloody sense
!' she said loudly, banging her fist on the steering wheel, just as a harassed-looking woman in a tight, black suit and tottering heels scurried across the road in front of her car. The woman scowled at her. Cora glowered back, her decision to keep Justin's odd behaviour a secret weighing even more heavily on her mind today. Should she at least tell Benjamin? It was the only thing she hadn't shared with him, and she was starting to feel bad about that. She pondered for a moment, then yet again changed her mind. Adam was right – nobody had actually threatened to do her any harm. And even if something odd was going on with Justin, he would never hurt her, she would bet her life on that.

Sighing, she turned Radio Four on. The afternoon play was starting. Just the distraction she needed.

That night, she felt immeasurably better as she snuggled into Benjamin's arms under his snowy duvet. Reluctant to go home and be alone, she'd suggested an impromptu mid-week meet up, and he'd been only too happy to oblige. As they'd cuddled up on the sofa, watching a classic Bond film and sipping tea, she'd felt so comfortable and happy she'd wondered why on earth she'd thought she might also have feelings for Adam. Ridiculous. Benjamin was all she needed. He was perfect.

‘Shattered, babe,' he murmured now, and kissed the back of her neck gently.

‘Mmm, me too. Sleep, then?'

‘Think so. If you don't mind.'

‘Of course not. Love you. G'night …'

She closed her eyes and drifted off almost immediately. Benjamin stroked her silky arm gently and stared into the darkness. He did love her, he really did. He'd even shrugged off the advances of several stunning women on his weekend shoot in the Caribbean, much to the astonishment of his crew. He'd been completely faithful, even when there was no chance of Cora finding out what he'd been up to. He was amazed at himself. The big question was, could he keep it up? He thought about it for a while, and for the first time, a tiny seed of doubt crept into his mind. Just a tiny one, but a seed nonetheless. Was he really ready to settle down? Had he met Cora too soon, before he really, truly, was ready to get serious?

‘But I don't want to lose her. Come on, Benj. Grow up,' he thought, and pushed himself up onto his elbow to gaze at Cora, now deeply asleep. He bent his head and brushed his lips against her cheek. She didn't stir. Smiling, he lay down again. Everything would be fine.

37

Friday 23
^rd
February

‘Damn thing. It was so much easier when we were allowed to have the wheels,' grumbled Scott.

He stood up and dragged his chair a few inches towards the truck door so Rodney had a bit more room to sprawl on the floor. It was an ordinary office swivel chair, but without the wheels – all the trucks had been forced to remove their chair wheels recently, after an unfortunate incident when an engineer had accidentally wheeled backwards straight out of the side door onto a busy road.

‘At least you won't end up as roadkill,' mumbled Rodney, his mouth full of chocolate digestive.

‘Yeah, whatever.' Scott sighed and took a loud slurp of tea. He looked thoroughly fed up, as always nowadays. Cora and Nathan, who were sharing the front passenger seat, glanced surreptitiously at each other. Several weeks after he'd last been questioned by the police, they were still no closer to discovering what their friend's problem was. He simply changed the subject every time they raised it, so much so that they'd pretty much given up.

‘He'll tell us in his own time. There's no point in pestering him,' Rodney had said wisely earlier that morning as they huddled together, the wind whipping their cheeks, outside a hospital where there'd been a huge norovirus outbreak. And so they'd all agreed to leave well alone. Cora had bigger things on her mind today anyway, she thought with a grin. It had taken a few weeks to find a date that suited everyone, but tonight Benjamin was finally coming to Cheltenham for the weekend. She'd barely seen him in the past fortnight, and as she clambered reluctantly out of the warm satellite van for the last live hit of the week she felt the usual little flutter of excitement. She couldn't wait for him to meet Rosie and Nicole, couldn't wait to show him off, couldn't wait for him to get an insight into her life away from TV, to see her beloved home town.

That evening though, as she luxuriated in a deep, hot bubble bath while she waited for Benjamin to arrive, her thoughts turned briefly to Adam again. They'd been chatting on the phone regularly recently, ostensibly because Cora needed regular updates on the murder case which seemed to have totally stalled. In reality though, she probably called him a little more often than necessary, enjoying the gentle banter that had developed between them, and the policeman certainly didn't seem to mind.

‘He's becoming a bit of a guilty little pleasure,' she mused, stretching out a soapy hand to carefully pick up the glass of Sauvignon Blanc she'd balanced precariously on the edge of the tub. ‘I know we'd be no good together – me and a single dad, for goodness' sake! But there's just something …'

Her mind drifted back to the telephone conversation they'd had earlier today, when she'd checked in for any updates on Jeanette's case.

‘Oh Cora, I wish I had something for you,' Adam had sighed. The investigation had pretty much ground to a halt, but he thought it best not to tell the reporter that. He paused. ‘So – how are you, anyway? Haven't seen you in the papers recently with, er … everything still rosy on the romantic front?'

‘Er – yes, all good thanks!' Cora hoped she didn't sound as surprised by the question as she felt. ‘Benjamin's coming to meet my friends in Gloucestershire for the first time tonight, actually. Should be fun.'

‘That's – great. Enjoy.'

‘I'll try,' she'd laughed. Now she cautiously replaced her glass and sat up in the bath, pink-cheeked and squeaky clean. He was interested, she knew he was. And she liked it. She couldn't help it. He was SO damn attractive. She wiped steam from the mirror with a corner of her towel and stared at herself.

‘And you shouldn't be finding him attractive, should you? So pull yourself together, numpty!'

And, suitably self-admonished, she strode purposefully into the bedroom to get ready for Benjamin.

He was still about an hour's drive away, travelling at a rather more sedate pace than he would have liked as a combination of Friday night traffic and three miles of roadworks brought the M4 to a crawl. He groaned as the cars in front braked yet again, and turned up the music in his custom-designed Range Rover Evoque. As Adele and the theme from
Skyfall
boomed from the speakers, he tried to clarify how he felt about the forthcoming weekend.

‘It'll be good to see her,' he thought. ‘Great in fact. We've barely seen each recently. And it'll be nice to see where she lives, and meet her friends, I guess.'

He tried to ignore the tiny wave of anxiety that suddenly pulsed through him. They'd been together for a while now, it was perfectly normal to meet your partner's friends, wasn't it? Of course it was. But in the past couple of weeks, when work had largely kept them apart, the niggling doubts had crept in again. He'd been lonely before he met her, although that was something he would never have admitted to anyone, and desperate to meet somebody, somebody he could talk to as well as have sex with, to rid him of that feeling. But he needed to get over this stupid fear of being tied down, of being with just one woman. Had he done all the stuff he needed to do, before settling down? Had he really? The same question had been running around in his head too often in recent days, and he simply didn't know what the answer was.

He flicked over to TalkSport as a fleeting thought of the beautiful woman he'd chatted to briefly in a bar last night flashed into his mind, then pushed her out of his head. This weekend, he would concentrate on Cora. Gorgeous, wonderful Cora. He smiled, and on cue the traffic began to move again. Moving smoothly into the outside lane, Benjamin grinned happily to himself, put his foot down and sped westwards.

‘Well, after that delightful first conversation, how could I resist?' Cora felt herself blushing as Benjamin, Rosie, and Nicole all howled with laughter. They'd been talking about diarrhoea for a good ten minutes now. It was lucky they'd chosen a quiet booth at the back of the small bar, away from prying ears. Cora would most definitely be having words with Nicole later for bringing the subject up. Honestly, would she ever be allowed to forget it? She elbowed Benjamin in the ribs.

‘OK, OK, enough now, give me a break, please!'

Still laughing, he draped his arm over her shoulders and hugged her. ‘Oh, sorry darling, but you have to admit that as a chat up line killer, that was probably an Oscar winner!'

‘He's right, Cora!' Rosie giggled. She wrapped her arms protectively over her bump and smiled at her friend fondly.

‘Yes, yes I know. But can we change the subject now, please?'

‘I know – let's talk about that time you got your jeans belt caught on a sticky-out nail in that house on live telly and ripped a big hole in your bum …' Nicole swayed slightly in her seat, waving her pint of cider in the air.

Benjamin spluttered into his wine. ‘Really?'

‘Yesh, really.' Nicole was definitely rather drunk.

Cora raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Maybe I should have said, let's change the subject and talk about something other than me and what an idiot I can be?'